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[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

"Smart phones make information gathering cake."

Comments

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

He lifts an eyebrow lightly over his cigarette. Aubery's curious, but only in a vague way.

"Hobby?"

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Curiosity killed the cat, or at least that's what they say. Lisbeth has never really believe it unless it's curiosity about her. Then she doesn't give a fuck if you're a cat or not, she might not kill you but she won't make living easy for you.

"Profession," she finally says.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

This answer seems to amuse Aubery -- again, vaguely. He hasn't spent time musing over Lisbeth's occupational possibilities, but for some reason this new bit of information proved to be pleasantly surprising. If pressed for a guess he would have chosen something much more mundane: a shop girl or a waitress, maybe.

"The plot thickens," he replies idly.

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Lisbeth can not imagine herself as a shop girl, or a waitress, only if her intent was to poison someone who was eating at her café. She is not, what anyone would call, a people person in fact a lot of smart people have categorized her as an anti-people person which is not entirely wrong it’s just that the people making those statements Lisbeth views as stupid. However now she’s viewing Aubery, or had viewed him anyway, which really wasn’t difficult, what was difficult to handle was the amount of vapid girls and boys who had happen to fall under Aubery’s spell.

“Does it, party boy?” She likes calling him mistletoe actually but that doesn’t fit with the situation. The fact is he doesn’t really fit with her. Or she doesn’t fit with him, whichever comes first.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

That she calls him a party boy does manage to wrangle a little more of Aubery's interest. He's no longer staring at her hands now (the way that she holds them, the length of her nails, how thin her wrists are), but stares at her face instead. Her eyes are obscured by the haze of smoke and her hair and that vague curiosity sharpens a bit, becomes more clearly fixed on his face.

"And thicker still."

He wonders if she's looked him up or if she's just taking a guess. It wouldn't have been hard to do -- Aubery went where he liked whenever he liked and left a trail of emails and text messages and facebook photos in his wake as he did so.

"Hobby?" he asks again, this time after any likelihood that she had looked him up.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

He lifts an eyebrow lightly over his cigarette. Aubery's curious, but only in a vague way.

"Hobby?"

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Curiosity killed the cat, or at least that's what they say. Lisbeth has never really believe it unless it's curiosity about her. Then she doesn't give a fuck if you're a cat or not, she might not kill you but she won't make living easy for you.

"Profession," she finally says.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

This answer seems to amuse Aubery -- again, vaguely. He hasn't spent time musing over Lisbeth's occupational possibilities, but for some reason this new bit of information proved to be pleasantly surprising. If pressed for a guess he would have chosen something much more mundane: a shop girl or a waitress, maybe.

"The plot thickens," he replies idly.

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Lisbeth can not imagine herself as a shop girl, or a waitress, only if her intent was to poison someone who was eating at her café. She is not, what anyone would call, a people person in fact a lot of smart people have categorized her as an anti-people person which is not entirely wrong it’s just that the people making those statements Lisbeth views as stupid. However now she’s viewing Aubery, or had viewed him anyway, which really wasn’t difficult, what was difficult to handle was the amount of vapid girls and boys who had happen to fall under Aubery’s spell.

“Does it, party boy?” She likes calling him mistletoe actually but that doesn’t fit with the situation. The fact is he doesn’t really fit with her. Or she doesn’t fit with him, whichever comes first.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

That she calls him a party boy does manage to wrangle a little more of Aubery's interest. He's no longer staring at her hands now (the way that she holds them, the length of her nails, how thin her wrists are), but stares at her face instead. Her eyes are obscured by the haze of smoke and her hair and that vague curiosity sharpens a bit, becomes more clearly fixed on his face.

"And thicker still."

He wonders if she's looked him up or if she's just taking a guess. It wouldn't have been hard to do -- Aubery went where he liked whenever he liked and left a trail of emails and text messages and facebook photos in his wake as he did so.

"Hobby?" he asks again, this time after any likelihood that she had looked him up.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

He lifts an eyebrow lightly over his cigarette. Aubery's curious, but only in a vague way.

"Hobby?"

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Curiosity killed the cat, or at least that's what they say. Lisbeth has never really believe it unless it's curiosity about her. Then she doesn't give a fuck if you're a cat or not, she might not kill you but she won't make living easy for you.

"Profession," she finally says.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

This answer seems to amuse Aubery -- again, vaguely. He hasn't spent time musing over Lisbeth's occupational possibilities, but for some reason this new bit of information proved to be pleasantly surprising. If pressed for a guess he would have chosen something much more mundane: a shop girl or a waitress, maybe.

"The plot thickens," he replies idly.

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Lisbeth can not imagine herself as a shop girl, or a waitress, only if her intent was to poison someone who was eating at her café. She is not, what anyone would call, a people person in fact a lot of smart people have categorized her as an anti-people person which is not entirely wrong it’s just that the people making those statements Lisbeth views as stupid. However now she’s viewing Aubery, or had viewed him anyway, which really wasn’t difficult, what was difficult to handle was the amount of vapid girls and boys who had happen to fall under Aubery’s spell.

“Does it, party boy?” She likes calling him mistletoe actually but that doesn’t fit with the situation. The fact is he doesn’t really fit with her. Or she doesn’t fit with him, whichever comes first.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

That she calls him a party boy does manage to wrangle a little more of Aubery's interest. He's no longer staring at her hands now (the way that she holds them, the length of her nails, how thin her wrists are), but stares at her face instead. Her eyes are obscured by the haze of smoke and her hair and that vague curiosity sharpens a bit, becomes more clearly fixed on his face.

"And thicker still."

He wonders if she's looked him up or if she's just taking a guess. It wouldn't have been hard to do -- Aubery went where he liked whenever he liked and left a trail of emails and text messages and facebook photos in his wake as he did so.

"Hobby?" he asks again, this time after any likelihood that she had looked him up.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

He lifts an eyebrow lightly over his cigarette. Aubery's curious, but only in a vague way.

"Hobby?"

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Curiosity killed the cat, or at least that's what they say. Lisbeth has never really believe it unless it's curiosity about her. Then she doesn't give a fuck if you're a cat or not, she might not kill you but she won't make living easy for you.

"Profession," she finally says.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

This answer seems to amuse Aubery -- again, vaguely. He hasn't spent time musing over Lisbeth's occupational possibilities, but for some reason this new bit of information proved to be pleasantly surprising. If pressed for a guess he would have chosen something much more mundane: a shop girl or a waitress, maybe.

"The plot thickens," he replies idly.

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Lisbeth can not imagine herself as a shop girl, or a waitress, only if her intent was to poison someone who was eating at her café. She is not, what anyone would call, a people person in fact a lot of smart people have categorized her as an anti-people person which is not entirely wrong it’s just that the people making those statements Lisbeth views as stupid. However now she’s viewing Aubery, or had viewed him anyway, which really wasn’t difficult, what was difficult to handle was the amount of vapid girls and boys who had happen to fall under Aubery’s spell.

“Does it, party boy?” She likes calling him mistletoe actually but that doesn’t fit with the situation. The fact is he doesn’t really fit with her. Or she doesn’t fit with him, whichever comes first.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

That she calls him a party boy does manage to wrangle a little more of Aubery's interest. He's no longer staring at her hands now (the way that she holds them, the length of her nails, how thin her wrists are), but stares at her face instead. Her eyes are obscured by the haze of smoke and her hair and that vague curiosity sharpens a bit, becomes more clearly fixed on his face.

"And thicker still."

He wonders if she's looked him up or if she's just taking a guess. It wouldn't have been hard to do -- Aubery went where he liked whenever he liked and left a trail of emails and text messages and facebook photos in his wake as he did so.

"Hobby?" he asks again, this time after any likelihood that she had looked him up.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

He lifts an eyebrow lightly over his cigarette. Aubery's curious, but only in a vague way.

"Hobby?"

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Curiosity killed the cat, or at least that's what they say. Lisbeth has never really believe it unless it's curiosity about her. Then she doesn't give a fuck if you're a cat or not, she might not kill you but she won't make living easy for you.

"Profession," she finally says.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

This answer seems to amuse Aubery -- again, vaguely. He hasn't spent time musing over Lisbeth's occupational possibilities, but for some reason this new bit of information proved to be pleasantly surprising. If pressed for a guess he would have chosen something much more mundane: a shop girl or a waitress, maybe.

"The plot thickens," he replies idly.

[wasplisbeth.livejournal.com]

Lisbeth can not imagine herself as a shop girl, or a waitress, only if her intent was to poison someone who was eating at her café. She is not, what anyone would call, a people person in fact a lot of smart people have categorized her as an anti-people person which is not entirely wrong it’s just that the people making those statements Lisbeth views as stupid. However now she’s viewing Aubery, or had viewed him anyway, which really wasn’t difficult, what was difficult to handle was the amount of vapid girls and boys who had happen to fall under Aubery’s spell.

“Does it, party boy?” She likes calling him mistletoe actually but that doesn’t fit with the situation. The fact is he doesn’t really fit with her. Or she doesn’t fit with him, whichever comes first.

[tenuesale.livejournal.com]

That she calls him a party boy does manage to wrangle a little more of Aubery's interest. He's no longer staring at her hands now (the way that she holds them, the length of her nails, how thin her wrists are), but stares at her face instead. Her eyes are obscured by the haze of smoke and her hair and that vague curiosity sharpens a bit, becomes more clearly fixed on his face.

"And thicker still."

He wonders if she's looked him up or if she's just taking a guess. It wouldn't have been hard to do -- Aubery went where he liked whenever he liked and left a trail of emails and text messages and facebook photos in his wake as he did so.

"Hobby?" he asks again, this time after any likelihood that she had looked him up.