[identity profile] looneyloopy.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] bait_backup
*Electricity is a funny thing. It can do so much, and yet it's so very easy to disrupt. Such are the woes of the proprietors of Maurice's, an upscale café that tries to look more edgy than fancy, and fails. It can't quite shake the air of snobbery infecting the area, the taint of We-Have-Too-Much-Money. Maybe it's the silk ascots; maybe it's the disproportionate number of Italian shoes. At any rate, no one thinks to notice the young man slipping out of the alley next to the building, in his new wingtips and old waistcoat, his button-down a bit rumpled and his trousers mended here and there. By the time anyone notices the breaker box on the back wall sparking and smoking, he's vanished into the crowds.

He takes the long way 'round back through some side-streets, timing it so that he walks up to Maurice's - again - about five minutes after he's agreed to meet Amrita there. Perfectly late, perfectly nonchalant, as he strolls up to the café, pretending to be unaware of the frustrated owners and the 'closed for maintenance' sign now hanging on the door.*



Date: 2011-09-25 03:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
*She's only just arrived when Remus strolls up, a few minutes late despite the cafe's close proximity to home. Amrita's frowning politely at the sign and looking a good deal more subdued than their last meeting, having traded in her riot of pleated silks for a smart gray dress. But the fit is immaculate, and her jewelry is appropriately small and tasteful but it certainly isn't paste, that's for sure. And she's still wearing sindoor (every day, without fail) and alta on her hands; she's gotten back into the habit, now that she can look however she pleases.

As a result the Muggles milling around the cafe are looking ever-so-slightly sideways at her moneyed strangeness--but she's completely unconscious of them, as if they are flies or potted plants. It's only when she spots Remus that she smiles.*

Hello. It's closed, apparently. Something wrong with the, ah-

*She circles one red-tipped finger in the air, groping for the word.*

Date: 2011-09-25 03:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
I should think so. Hrm.

I'm not sure there's another place 'round here, unless we--

*But it's all proper restaurants, and none very good. The nearest halfway decent cafe is four blocks over--or is it five, she can't remember exactly--and it looks like it's threatening to rain. Her little frown deepens, but it's more fretful than angry.*

Oh, I wish they'd figure out a way around it, or something--honestly--

Date: 2011-09-25 04:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
*She fiddles a little awkwardly with her purse as Remus talks to the waiter, and by the time he turns around she's already made up her mind. It'll be fine; the flat is warded and safe and Evan is out so there's nobody to surprise. Anyway, she isn't too keen on meeting Mrs. Lupin The Muggle, whoever-she-is, and she knows Evan wouldn't be all that keen on it, either--*

Don't be ridiculous. We'll go to the flat, it's only just 'round the corner. Do you mind?

Date: 2011-09-25 03:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
*But she's already walking, with a sisterly little tug at his sleeve so that he'll follow her.*

Psh. It's very close. You can meet the bar.

Date: 2011-09-25 04:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
The bar. It's very nice, you'll see. And I can show you that book I was telling you about, that plays music for you as you read-

It's not far, just there, see?

*She points at the rather majestic building they're heading towards. It hails from when factories were built more like temples or castles--but it obviously hasn't been a factory in quite some time.*

And how've you been?

Date: 2011-09-25 04:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
*At once, she makes a small and sympathetic little noise, her brow creasing. Perhaps he hasn't got a contraption like the one she once used--and if his wife, Hazel apparently, is a Muggle she can't be any use at all helping him. It hadn't been often that her own measures had failed, but she remembers vividly what it's like to wake up bleeding and gashed open from hip to knee.*

Oh, how awful. Don't you have a thing you can use, stop yourself biting?

It's just up here.

*They're in the building, now, and she leads him into a bronze-latticed lift much like the one they shared the day they met.*

Date: 2011-09-25 04:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
I believe it. I'm a mess all down my side here, and it only failed once or twice when I was younger. I've always used it, since, you know. It cut down on most of the, ah, messier bits. So I'd stay presentable. I only really would bounce off the walls, and that isn't so bad, considering.

*Amrita is very conspicuously avoiding the word muzzle; still, it's easier to talk about when she's looking ahead at the lift shaft crawling evenly downwards on the other side of the bronze lattice. She speaks softly, now, almost inaudible over the clanking of the old-fashioned lift.*

It's difficult, isn't it, for the wolf be held back from what it's meant to do?

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Date: 2011-09-28 06:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
*They're all more or less appropriate for Trois-Echelles. It's a little bit of a wine bar and a little bit of a restaurant, and it isn't exactly formal--still, it's unmistakably, irrevocably swanky and very French, and there isn't anything close to a Muggle-born in sight, just candles in little nooks and peculiar art on the walls and wealthy witches and wizards chatting at small tables. Amrita successfuly Side-Alonged Remus without a bit of trouble, and now they're being ushered to their place by a sleek black-robed waitress who's every bit as decorative as the furnishings.*

--the test was something else, you should've seen it. Me and a roomful of seventeen-year-olds! Most of them had parents around.

Date: 2011-09-28 06:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dapperdeath.livejournal.com
Of course.

*Evan watches Lupin makes his escape, and then looks to his wife.*

What was his wife's name again? I'm sure you've mentioned it, but I've forgotten.

Date: 2011-09-28 06:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
Ehm. Hazel. Don't know about her surname.

Date: 2011-09-28 06:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dapperdeath.livejournal.com
Hm. If she's a muggle I wouldn't know it anyway, so it doesn't matter. Have you met her?

Date: 2011-09-28 07:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
Don't suppose it does. And no, of course not.

Apparently they met at a market or something, she dropped all her shopping.

Date: 2011-09-28 07:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dapperdeath.livejournal.com
It takes all sorts, I suppose. Is he still tutoring?

Date: 2011-09-28 07:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
I didn't get that impression. It wouldn't surprise me if he couldn't find anyone to tutor, the way the laws are now.

Date: 2011-09-28 07:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dapperdeath.livejournal.com
No, I suppose not, although--ah, garçon--

*In rapid-fire French, Evan orders a bottle for the table--nothing too fancy--and steak tartare for each of them. That should hold Lupin's interest.*

Date: 2011-09-28 07:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cellarandmoon.livejournal.com
*And it begins, the intricate bee-dance that is dinner at a very expensive restaurant. A handsome breadbasket appears along with the wine and sparkling water; glasses fill themselves, gilt menus and the appropriate silverware materialize of their own accord, and so do suitably attractive waitstaff bearing tartare complete with precious little toast points and quail's egg.

Amrita's unmoved by any of it--part of the dance too, in its own way, and she is very good at it.*

We went ahead--plenty of other things to start with, though, take a look--

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