(no subject)

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

Who do you think you are?

Comments

HE DOESN'T BUT HERE HE IS ANYWAY

[notsogrimoire.livejournal.com]

Er. [Razas clears his throat. Yes, this was an excellent idea that could not possibly backfire.] Merely someone interested in your . . . more esoteric pursuits, shall we say.

<3 You love me.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

Considering I don't, as a rule, advertise them to riffraff, I'm curious how you learned I had esoteric pursuits to begin with.

[She had answered her door looking perfectly coifed and primped, wearing a ruby red dress and pumps. As though this was what she lounged around the house in.]

Insane amounts, yes <3

[notsogrimoire.livejournal.com]

[Razas draws himself up at that "riffraff", because really. Just because he's got the perpetually round-shouldered look of a librarian and is getting a bit of a pot belly . . .] Well, I suppose if I've come to the wrong place, I'll just take what I know about binding and summoning and go elsewhere.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

[Now, he's caught her attention--but her mood's still foul as month-old Chinese leftovers found in the back of the fridge behind the eggs.]

Who are you?

[notsogrimoire.livejournal.com]

An interested practitioner. Someone with certain connections to one David Preussich. [Oh, he is bluffing like crazy right now, but he wants to at least feel out how dangerous she is before he makes a move. Or, you know. Gets someone better at conflict to make a move.]

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

Ah, David? Really? You weren't at his funeral.

I was mad at him, when he died. There were certain things he never explained to me. He'd hint like mad, but would never demystify. I don't suppose you were close enough to do me the favor?

[Suspicious, uncertain, but her curiosity is winning, for the sake of one tiny snippet.]

[notsogrimoire.livejournal.com]

Mmph. I hate funerals. Depressing things, I make it a point never to attend. [What? He can still lie.] But I might be able to shed some light on his, ah . . . more mysterious activities. Some of them are specialties of mine, as it happens.

[betheft.livejournal.com]

[He raises an eyebrow.] You mentioned magic in a way that made it seem real. Do you fault me for being at least a little interested?

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

You're obviously one of the unaware--do you fault me for being protective of my secrets?

Oh joy, notifs are down again.

[betheft.livejournal.com]

[He considers, for a moment, and then nods. His voice is distant. Removed.]

We all have our secrets we'd like to keep under wraps.

[He, perhaps, more than many others.]

Gotta love it.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

You haven't even offered me your name. That's not how you start.

[betheft.livejournal.com]

[He actually flinches a bit, just a little. God, is he out of sorts.]

Do forgive me, I've grown somewhat unaccustomed to social niceties. Dominic Bloom.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

Anne York.

[Yes, THAT Anne York, Hollywood actress.]

HE DOESN'T BUT HERE HE IS ANYWAY

[notsogrimoire.livejournal.com]

Er. [Razas clears his throat. Yes, this was an excellent idea that could not possibly backfire.] Merely someone interested in your . . . more esoteric pursuits, shall we say.

<3 You love me.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

Considering I don't, as a rule, advertise them to riffraff, I'm curious how you learned I had esoteric pursuits to begin with.

[She had answered her door looking perfectly coifed and primped, wearing a ruby red dress and pumps. As though this was what she lounged around the house in.]

Insane amounts, yes <3

[notsogrimoire.livejournal.com]

[Razas draws himself up at that "riffraff", because really. Just because he's got the perpetually round-shouldered look of a librarian and is getting a bit of a pot belly . . .] Well, I suppose if I've come to the wrong place, I'll just take what I know about binding and summoning and go elsewhere.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

[Now, he's caught her attention--but her mood's still foul as month-old Chinese leftovers found in the back of the fridge behind the eggs.]

Who are you?

[notsogrimoire.livejournal.com]

An interested practitioner. Someone with certain connections to one David Preussich. [Oh, he is bluffing like crazy right now, but he wants to at least feel out how dangerous she is before he makes a move. Or, you know. Gets someone better at conflict to make a move.]

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

Ah, David? Really? You weren't at his funeral.

I was mad at him, when he died. There were certain things he never explained to me. He'd hint like mad, but would never demystify. I don't suppose you were close enough to do me the favor?

[Suspicious, uncertain, but her curiosity is winning, for the sake of one tiny snippet.]

[betheft.livejournal.com]

[He raises an eyebrow.] You mentioned magic in a way that made it seem real. Do you fault me for being at least a little interested?

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

You're obviously one of the unaware--do you fault me for being protective of my secrets?

Oh joy, notifs are down again.

[betheft.livejournal.com]

[He considers, for a moment, and then nods. His voice is distant. Removed.]

We all have our secrets we'd like to keep under wraps.

[He, perhaps, more than many others.]

Gotta love it.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

You haven't even offered me your name. That's not how you start.

[betheft.livejournal.com]

[He actually flinches a bit, just a little. God, is he out of sorts.]

Do forgive me, I've grown somewhat unaccustomed to social niceties. Dominic Bloom.

[dame-york.livejournal.com]

Anne York.

[Yes, THAT Anne York, Hollywood actress.]