http://looneyloopy.livejournal.com/ (
looneyloopy.livejournal.com) wrote in
bait_backup2011-07-21 09:46 pm
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Russian roulette is not the same without a gun
*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.*
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.*
no subject
He keeps selling out of those wands we've begun importing, of course, thanks to this Registry nonsense. It's not as if there's been a sudden boom in 11 year olds who are getting their wands from him and others, but if they're being sold to adults, it's Borgin who's breaking regulations, not me. Everyone wants a backup wand, even those who aren't doing a thing wrong. After all, who really wants to have someone else see every little spell you cast?
no subject
*And that's about as long as she can make it before returning to the tartare. Oh well.*
no subject
It's a monumental effort, but he tries to focus. Scooting the little plates in front of him around gingerly, he nudges the tartare away and shuffles a little brie over closer. His appetite's shot but he can't just push the meat away like a finicky child, it'd be rude (and they all know who's footing the bill here, anyway, which is a level of embarrassment he hasn't even really had time to grapple with yet.) Still, he does little more than pick at it, a bit grey in the face and altogether silent.*
no subject
*A bit rich, from someone putting away raw meat like it's going out of style. But at least she's using the right fork.*
Have we thought about what we're going to order? They've upgraded their menus to gilt roofing tiles, apparently.
*Dismissively, she hefts the thing.*
no subject
*He looks at Lupin, the same old amiable smile affixed to his face like a plaster mask. Only the eyes tell how cruel he knows he's being.*
How about you?
*And good luck finding anything without at least some kind of animal flesh in it.*
no subject
It takes a moment, and some scouring through names he doesn't recognize and words he can't pronounce, and wanting viciously to make Rosier go to Yorkshire and try and navigate local cuisine there, on Remus's turf. Or better yet, have Nana toss a lot of Scottish food at him and just see how well he manages that. But then, mercifully, he finds something that doesn't make him feel ill just thinking about it. It's not as good as the chips and curry takeaway he'd rather be getting with Sirius right now, but it'll work, and Remus doesn't bother altogether hiding the hard edge of vindication in his eyes as he closes the menu and lays it back down.*
Quiche sounds lovely.
no subject
Oh, I'm a bit torn. Do I want the entrecôte or the carré d'agneau?
no subject
*He doesn't wait for her to give assent, but glances toward the service station, and the waiter appears almost instantly. He orders for the table, getting the entrecôte thoroughly rare for himself. When the waiter disappears, though, all his attention snaps immediately back to Lupin.*
So, I hear you've gotten married? Congratulations! Married life seems to suit the both of us. I'd love to meet your little woman sometime.
no subject
As to his "wife," well. Obviously out of the question, given that said 'little woman' is actually a rather scruffy, charmingly unkempt and not-all-that-diminutive man, and even if he weren't, even if they weren't cousins anyway, Remus wouldn't let Evan Rosier within a mile of his own, anyway.
But that's hardly an acceptable response. Giving a smile that's polite enough but sharp at the edges, he tilts his head slightly.*
Really? Amrita did mention she's a Muggle, I trust?
*And let the bastard think he's sharing a table with someone bedding a mudblood; Remus watches for discomfort, determined not to take all this lying down. If people overhear and are put off, all the better.*
no subject
*His smile goes a bit soft, and almost tender, in the direction of his wife, before he returns to the matter at hand.*
No, muggles are a wonderful sort, and so clever with their electricity and cars and whatnot. Heavens, my father even has ridden on their airplanes. I'd love to meet the one who thought up that and managed to convince people to get on it without a broomstick to save them if it fell out of the sky.
no subject
And apparently sometimes they do! Right out of the sky, everyone onboard dead. It's madness.
no subject
*It's said totally innocently as he takes a sip of his wine, but he's done playing nice. He'll be polite enough to stay in with Amrita, but he can't stomach a whole dinner of Rosier alternating between barbs at him and soppy saccharine looks at his wife. The steak tartare's already got him feeling ill enough as it is.*
no subject
*It's a pleasant, noncommittal sort of noise, and then Amrita excuses herself and rises from the table, depositing her napkin elegantly before she goes.*
no subject
I know you're thinking awful things about me. It's doing terrible things for the lines in your forehead. Spit them out.
no subject
Lamb and steak tartare? Really?
no subject
I only ordered what she likes. She was raised as a vegetarian, you know. Forgive me if I assumed you might share her appetites.
But why deny yourself? There's no reward in it.
no subject
I had no idea you were so concerned with my diet. How considerate.
no subject
Why must we be enemies, Remus? We want the same things. I don't think you were sad to see Umbridge and her vile cronies go, were you? Think of all the good that could be done with someone better managing the department. Someone like you, perhaps.
no subject
Really? Here? You want to discuss this here?
no subject
If you intend to take my offer seriously, then we could meet somewhere more private at a later date. But I don't think you'll take me up on that until you trust me at least a little, and I don't think you'll trust me until I do something for you. My wife no longer goes to the Ministry, I bet that particular inconvenience could be dispensed with for you as well--
no subject
But he won't take a devil's bargain to get out of it. His pride may be battered but some days it's nearly all he has, and the stubborn set of his jaw says as much.*
- I'm not in the habit of taking favors from people in your particular line of work, Rosier, however I feel about Umbridge being gone. Thank you, no.
no subject
*Evan leans in, lowering his voice.*
You do understand that it wasn't me, don't you? I assisted, certainly, I made it possible, but the work itself--ah, here she comes now.
*Amrita is approaching and Evan stands to pull out her chair.*
no subject
no subject
no subject
When the pieces click into place, even the vegetarian dishes on the table are enough to turn his stomach, and his smile is decidedly faint as he turns to smooth over Amirta's unvoiced concern.*
You two are lucky to have found one another. Evan speaks so highly of you, Amrita, I'm almost embarrassed.