i think back home they think i've lost my mind

[amourpropre]

Who: Lucius Malfoy (Sr) and "Vanessza Bernát"
What: What's the use of kind turns, if you can't call in a favour? A little bit of patching up ensues.
Where: Eventually, Syriac Well.
When: Veerdi night.

It's a good thing, Lucius Malfoy reflects, that he had advocated to her the benefits of the kindness of strangers.

Or else this might seem unusual.

Not that there is much unusual about his current circumstance. A normal Veerdi evening in Baedal should see a wizard peeling back the mock up bandaging he's fashioned from conjured silk, soaked through with blood, and evaluating the damage. More complaint in the furrow of his brow for the torn fabric than broken skin, but then again, he isn't looking at that latter thing as closely as he ought, and he's already magically numbed the injury so as best to carry on with his fucking day. The charm had worn out by sundown, however, and he can feel the encroaching beginnings of human pain needling at his senses.

He runs the tap to let red come off his palm and spiral down the silver drain. A train has pulled in at the station, audible even in the public bathroom he has claimed for himself and magically locked against unwanted intruders. In the narrative, this implies a state of crossroads. Except he usually Apparates.

Hand clean, he takes out his CiD. Hesitates, as is only fitting. They call him 'family'.

you implied you are a doctor

And waits.

Comments

[amourpropre]

He pauses to consider that phrasing, before picking up the piece of paper and neatly folding it. "For your discretion, I may," Lucius says, as he goes to pocket the instructions inside his coat. "As for the rest, I suppose we shall see about that in ten days, won't we?"

He takes his cane back up in hand, moving to get to his feet.

[asklepios]

Keeping secrets, she doesn't say, is something she probably knows more about than he does. (Practise, and all that.) She tips her head, instead, rising to see him out of the apartment.

"Call me if there are complications," she exhorts, at the door.

[amourpropre]

"If there are complications, I'd have a mind to call someone else."

However, the corner of his mouth suggests the barest hint of humour, hedging towards 'smile' territory without every quite making it. Still, a dry tone of voice lends less credibility to how serious he is being. He should, at this point, thank her for her professionalism and efficiency.

"Good evening, Dr. Bernát."

[asklepios]

With a huff that's like a laugh, almost - to mirror the smile that isn't quite - Benevenuta waves him out. "As you like. Goodnight, Mr Malfoy."

It seems more appropriate, now he's got his shirt on.