Tantalizing Treats (LUCAS)

[catryona]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #729295 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] i run to you, call out your name September... the beginning of term, the start of a new school year, new students new faces... though many were familiar, it was always a bit exciting to see the younger children be sorted and be so very giddy to begin their own lives at Hogwarts, to follow down their own path and blaze forth new trails into the seemingly unknown world of witchcraft and wizardry. Such events always left Aurora feeling a bit nostalgic... of the days when she'd wandered through these hallowed halls as a wide eyed young girl. She'd enjoyed being a student here and as such, she'd had a desire to teach here as well. Thankfully, her dream was met with reality. Today, however, she was not at Hogwarts, though she was nearby. She had decided (it being one of the first weekends back in school and students were still getting acclimated to their classes and the like.. so Hogsmead wouldn't be too terribly overrun) that it seemed like the perfect afternoon for her to take a trip to Honeyduke's Sweet Shoppe to get some new candy for her desk (as well as some of their delicious homemade fudge... who wouldn't want it?). So, she found herself wandering aimlessly through High Street, knowing her destination, though not exactly needing to go right off. A few students wandered about, mostly seventh years who hadn't stocked up on classes for this year. So their homework and studying wasn't as overboard as some of the more... driven, of last year students. She nodded to them politely, as they greeted her with smiles (and a few sneers). She was not a disliked teacher, though she was a bit on the strict side when it came to accuracy of mapping the constellations... it was usually only because the chart homework was given to students studying for N.E.W.T. exams who needed to have a rather particular aptitude for such things. The only other times she was abhorrently strict to her students was when they didn't listen to her in class... her class was as important to her as her breath and she didn't like a mockery being made of it. Though, most of her students were amiable and at least enjoyed her class some. Whether or not they desired it for the beauty of the stars or the fact that it happened at night and gave them an excuse to be out of their beds at such hours. Whichever, it didn't much matter to Aurora, as she enjoyed teaching and most (if not all) of her students seemed to enjoy her lectures... though it could be the candy... CANDY! AH! She'd nearly forgotten... how could she forget candy?? It was by far her most favored off "guilty pleasures" and a long standing tradition with her students. She always rewarded their correct answers with a piece of Honeydukes hard candy, or a nougat, or some sort of sugar coated fruit. She really shouldn't let her mind wander as much as she did... it made her seem a bit, well, delirious. She turned her attention to her current location on High Street and chuckled, bemused. She'd stopped, remembering her actual purpose for this visit directly in front of the intended destination. What a charmingly lovely little coincidence. She turned greeting a few students as the door opened, they were leaving, though were kind enough to hold the door for her. She smiled softly, before entering into the dreamy little shoppe that Honeydukes was. Waving to Mrs. Flume as she entered, Aurora slowly made her way around the store, eying the packed shelves. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Mr. Ambrosius Flume. She nodded to him. "Mr. Flume, good to see ya." He held out his hand, as did she, and they shook for a moment before he spoke. "Will you be purchasing more fudge today Miss Sinistra? Aurora chuckled softly, was she that predicable? "Oh but of course! Along with another assortment of candy... my dish is getting empty and you know how my students adore you sweets." Mr. Flume grinned widely. "I believe, it is safe to say, that they are not the only reason your dish is near empty. He was right, Aurora adored hard candies. Mr. Flume let go of her hand before laughing brightly, turning and heading toward the fudge table to get her order prepared. With that, Mrs. Flume was at Aurora's side, with a rather large basket and an arm locked with Aurora's. "Afternoon Mrs. Flume." She giggled softly. "'Ello Miss Sinistra." They wandered about the store, picking up items such as nougat and crystallized pineapple on their way around, discussing matters of gossip from around Hogsmead. Aurora was never given to spread rumors, but Mrs. Flume enjoyed discussing the happenings with her, so Aurora merely listened and nodded. As they made it to the fudge table, Mr. Flume handed Aurora a large bag of chocolate fudge and then followed behind the counter to the register, where he rung up Aurora's purchase. Mrs. Flume giving Aurora a small hug before departing to help out a student in need of some chocolate frogs. Aurora paid for her assortment of hard candies, fudge, crystallized fruits, nougats, and other candies and then waved goodbye to the owners. She then turned and made her way to the door. Suddenly, it opened prior to her exit, a group of giggling sixth year females came rushing in. Aurora gasped her bag firmly and weaved through them as best she could, walking backward out the door just before it closed. Outside, she swiftly turned about, so that she could continue walking. Though she was stopped, by a rather large and hard object in her way. She gasped, being knocked back a bit before looking to see it was a gentleman. She flushed madly, embarrassed that she had not watched where she was going more carefully. "I am so sorry sir... I should have been payin' more attention." i see you there, farther away tagged lucas words 1019 notes hope the locale is alright ^^ credits irisheyes of C.20

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[LUCAS DONOVAN CAIN MULCIBER]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1791 WORDS FOR AURORA Love the locale; beautiful post ^.^ DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Two years had passed since the Dark Lord had returned to the world in a forgotten graveyard outside of Little Hangleton, surrounded by his jibbering, simpering, scared little followers and a young boy whose defiance was an inspiration to anyone with a genuine understanding of darkness and the madness that hid within it. Lucas had not been there for the 'reunion' as it were, for which he was infinately glad. Something told him he would not have been able to mask his disdain for those loyal Death Eaters, let alone their master. The destrusction of Azkaban's top security ward had aided the escape of many who had lost the better part of their minds over the course of fifteen years, an assistance Lucas had not anticipated but found himself genuinely grateful for. He had no intentions of swearing a true loyalty from that moment on, but he intended to remember it. Whether that recollection would one day lead to a mercy, Lucas had no idea, but he knew a debt when he saw one however the debt may have been forged. Lucas was no fool - he knew that the esacape of over ten maximum security prisoners was not something Voldemort did because he needed those hidden behind the stone walls of Azkaban, but rather because he knew it would instill fear into the hearts of witches and wizards around the country, sow a seed of doubt in their hearts that the Ministry was being completely honest. There were moments in time these days when Lucas saw a glimmer in the Dark Lord that reminded him of the man who lured them all to the hoods and masks, the cattle brand on their arms and the lies that now bound some of the strongest of pureblood lines to a well deranged half-blood. That escape had been one of those moments, calculated as it was, but like many other moments it was a quick and fleeting thing. Lucas had wasted no time upon his escape from Azkaban, and had returned to the one place nobody would think to look for him - primarily because it was too painfully obvious. He spent little time there, knowing that Aurors would give it a check soon - a half-hearted one to be sure, but a check nonetheless. Arriving back on the Mulciber Estates, Lucas was immensely pleased to see that the house-elves and human staff had not let a single thing fall out of place. The mansion was in impeccable condition - and so were his clothes. He stayed long enough to bathe, change, and grab some money before slipping out the back as the Aurors arrived and into the small house that once belonged to the Swordmaster. From there, he took the Floo to Paris and promptly visited a barber shop before purchasing a train ticket to a small village in Pyrénées-Orientales where he laid low for the better part of the year, sending out correspondences to various connections throughout greater Europe, and a select few in England. On a whim, Lucas sent out a flock of letters, all with the same warning, all beseeching the people of England to take arms and defend their homes from the approaching darkness. It had been done with a sporting attitude, an attitude that would have remained had it not been for a particularly interesting reply - one of the very few that actually recieved answers, in fact. A correspondence began that intruiged Lucas for a time, before he cut it off for the protection of himself, and the mysterious 'penpal'. Time passed solwly in the lush mountains of France, quiet enough that Lucas was able to recover some of what had been taken from him in Azkaban. Lucas had not allowed his imprisonment to destroy him, finding a strength within himself that no patronus could duplicate he was certain. Every waking hour, Lucas spent utilizing every inch of his four by four stone cage. The bars on his window were tightly packed, barely enough room between them for sun to stream through, but enough for him to grip and lift himself, day by day in that cell to strengthen his arms and stare out at the sea without daring to long for it. His hands became rough from the bars and the floor he would push himself up from; his feet found purchase against his cell door and allowed him to do sit ups every day. Lucas never allowed the cold to stop him, concentrated on the adreniline his body formed through those daily workouts. He completed all the excersizes he was trained to complete from chidhood, again and again, stopping only to eat when the guards remembered to feed the prisoners, to write whenever he was blessed with a single piece of parchment and a self inking quill for a day, learning to make his writing incredibly tiny as a result. The guards may have thought him mad as he sat there and scratched away - mad like the rest of the Death Eaters in the maximum holding pens - but Lucas' words were not the ramblings of a madman. They mused of madness, but did not reflect it. By the time the escape came, Lucas was aware of only one thing. In Azkaban, to survive it with your sanity intact, you could not think of anything personal. You needed more than occlumency, you needed distraction and a broad enough mind to concentrate on things removed from yourself but close enough the Dementors believed themselves to be feeding off of you. It was a difficult and treacherous road, but as the brine of the open sea surrounding those broken walls assaulted his senses, Lucas knew he had managed some form of success. How much of himself he managed to retain became clear during those months in the Pyrénées, especially during his correspondences with his best friends, and his blood brother. Assured of his own sanity, Lucas made one final contact while in France, before returning to the country where by all rights, he was on the run. Looking like an affluent aristocrat and bearing a few carefully applied glamors and distraction charms, Lucas strode through London with very little thought or concern. He attended to various affairs of Mulciber origins, dealt with the Dark Lord and checked in on a few connections. For the most part, he was catching up on what felt like fifteen years of avoiding paperwork, menial duty and social networking. He had very little interest in the Dark Lord or his madness this time around and was, for lack of any better term, bored of him. The fact that the Dark Lord’s group of dedicated monkeys were now mucking about Malfoy Manor and treating not only Lucius, but Narcissa as their personal servants - as though the both of them weren’t high above their calibre - was something that was putting Lucas into a considerably black mood. Like most of the Mulcibers, Lucas had a rather condescending outlook on most of the pureblood families in Britain – but it just so happened he liked Lucius and Narcissa, and therefore they didn’t count toward his condescension. It utterly disgusted Lucas that a mankey half-blood had not only managed to make slaves out of so many proud people, but that those same people were bloody blind to how they were being used. That they turned on one another upon Voldemort’s whims was ridiculous. Feeling the need to get clear of Diagon Alley before he cursed someone just to let out some frustration, Lucas apparated to Hogsmeade, having half a mind to hunt down Severus and shock him out of a year or two of life, seeing as he had yet to mention to his friend that he was back in England. Although his appearance was drastically altered from the images released by the Ministry for people to keep an eye out for him, Lucas knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Severus would recognize him in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t matter that his hair was shorter than it had ever been in all his life, or that he was sporting a well trimmed shadow. The distraction charms that kept people from noticing the marks on his hands wouldn’t matter – Severus would know him by his eyes, the one thing few people looked to when trying to identify him. Glancing about himself to gather his bearings upon arrival, Lucas realized he’d popped out in front of Honeydukes, which was amusing enough to him that he smiled and debated walking in. A part of him thought it might be funny to pick up a licorice wand for Severus, considering how much his friend despised licorice and had the infamous habit of beating people with them once received. Or at least, so it had been in school – knowing Severus, he was probably more tightly reserved than a Gringotts goblin now and would never deign to do something so silly as beat someone with a licorice wand. Pity. About to make his way onward, Lucas found himself moving forward a bit with the force of someone colliding into his back rather abruptly. Turning around, Lucas anticipated someone young who had been in too much of a rush to notice where they were going. Eric has been like that as long as Lucas had known him, and so it was easy to grant a bemused smile to the harried woman clutching her bag of Honeydukes sweets and looking up at him to apologize. It wasn’t a kid, but Lucas found he couldn’t complain. She was, after all, very easy on the eyes. ”Quite alright, my good madam,” Lucas replied smoothly, his time spent in France coming out in the delicate curving of his words and his choice in them. If nothing else, the French House of Mulciber had done wonders for his manners while he was with them – considering the fact he had to be on his best behaviour due to some considerable tension between himself and that House. He had aimed to repair the bridge between them and, for the most part, had managed a modicum of success. Ramone still refused to speak with him, but he had managed to earn back most of the French House’s respect, which was saying something, considering how snobbish that lot always was. ”Are you alright?” He saw fit to ask, considering the force in which she had slammed into him. She appeared to still have all the contents of her parcel, and didn’t seem too ruffled, but it was only polite to check. He may not have been the best at communicating with people, but even Lucas knew what was polite and what wasn’t – not that many would believe that. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[catryona]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #729295 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] i run to you, call out your name Upon Aurora's awakening, she most certainly didn't think that she'd find herself in this sort of predicament. She had always prided herself on being careful, measured, methodical. It saved her from having debacles like this, as she blushed easily and found it entirely embarrassing to be in these sort of situations. Aurora disliked conflict, as such, times likes these made her dreadfully uncomfortable. Aurora was about seventeen different shades of flushed. She couldn't believe she'd done something so utterly juvenile as to run into someone. She was thirty two years old, she really should know to watch where she was going for goodness sakes. She sincerely hoped the gentleman to whom she'd bombarded with her form, would take it alright. She hurriedly set down her bag from Honeydukes and straightened out the flowing silver-teal dress she'd dawned before her departure to Hogsmead. She slipped a fallen, silken, strap back onto her shoulders before brushing a runaway strand of hair from her face, so that she could properly address the situation to which she found herself. She sighed, rather decidedly, before preparing herself for a more in depth apology. She looked up at him, her dark amber eyes locking onto his striking hazel. She fell silent for a moment, before flushing madly once more. When she finally heard his voice her jaw nearly dropped, it was smooth, rustic, and near intoxicating. She thought, mildly, that his voice could very well be compared to a fine, old wine. Red. Luscious and deep, rich with flavor and age. Something that would make her shiver at the taste of it. Something she would savor, take her time with, enjoy each tantalizing sip until there was nothing left. Thankfully, all this was running through her mind at the moment and not out of her lips, or the terribly embarrassing moment would suddenly get a great deal more compromising. She fell silent after he'd told her it was alright, taking this time to look him over a bit. He was well dressed, clean, proper, and remarkably handsome. There was a certain air in the manner of how he carried himself that made Aurora suspect that he was a pureblooded wizard, likely from a very, very long line of pureblooded wizards. This aspect worried Aurora slightly, though she did not allow for it to show outwardly on her subtle features. She instead, smiled softly to the gentleman and nodded her head politely, as a way of humbling herself, as if she wasn't already humbled by the fact that he hadn't yelled at her for running into him in the first place. She found herself looking back at his rugged features, his deep green eyes, formed lips, firm chin. Yes, this was a man of means... and she was not simply referring to the fact that he was wearing and expertly tailored suit. She could tell by how he held his head high, his chin straight, his eyes wide and calculating. She smiled faintly, this sort of man likely commanded others and if he didn't, then he needed to. If not just for the fact that his voice was like velvet. When she inquired as to whether or not she was alright, she nodded softly. "Aye... I am alright sir. Thank ya for askin'... it's very kind of ya, considering I was the one who ran inta ya in the first place." She said, her British accent seeming near childish in comparison to his deep, heady voice. Was he French? If so... what on the earth was he doing in Hogsmead? Well, at any rate, it wasn't exactly any of her business as to what his purpose was here, though... she was beginning to find herself glad that she'd ran into him in the first place... even if it was abhorrently embarrassing. She cleared her throat softly, before speaking once more. "I hope I didn't bother ya sir. I truly am sorry for runnin' inta ya like that. I was simply tryin' not to run over the students that came tumblin' into Honeydukes as I was attemptin' to leave." She explained, not exactly sure if he'd even care for the reason as to why she'd ran into him, though she really did feel as though an explanation as owed to him. It wasn't like they were students in the halls of Hogwarts, running into one another and then laughing it off on account of the crowded walkways of the school. She nodded then, kneeling down slightly so that she could quickly pluck up the bag of treats she'd set on the ground minutes prior. She bent at the knees, of course, seeing as she was in a lower thigh length sundress. She then nodded politely to the gentleman, "Again, I'm really sorry." She said, before smiling faintly and walked past him a bit, only to stop a foot or so away from him and turn slightly, a gentle smile on her lips. She turned to face him fully then. "Perhaps... a drink?" She asked coolly. "My treat? As a way of apologizing for bumping into you? The Three Broomsticks wont be as crowded today as it usual." She remained where she had stopped, a little over a foot away from him, the almost sweet smile still on her lips. She was hopeful, that he would accept, though she wasn't going to seem too eager for his company. After all, she didn't even know this man, but it seemed right in her mind. She wouldn't mind the companionship for a short while and at the same time she could really use something to drink. Normally she'd have a nice cup of tea or a stout coffee this time in the afternoon, though Madam Puddifoots was really the only place that had her variety of coffee or her blend of tea and the shop had a reputation for being a couples only sort of place... which was why Aurora usually only went in to buy in bulk her leaves and beans and merely brewed her beverages in her chambers or office. Which would more than likely be her next destination before heading back to the school, if the gentleman she'd offered a drink to declined. i see you there, farther away tagged lucas words 1045 notes thanks ^^ i adored your post! credits irisheyes of C.20

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[LUCAS DONOVAN CAIN MULCIBER]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]715 WORDS FOR AURORA --- DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Had Lucas been at all aware of the thoughts floating through Aurora’s mind as she examined him, he likely would have found this encounter far more intriguing. As it was, he noted the appreciative way she glanced at him and kept his composure cool, not entirely game for a lady friend this afternoon and, in truth, being a bit preoccupied with other matters. That was not to say he did not appreciate her in turn, having a bit of a fondness for women with darker skin; it wasn’t something that struck his fancy as much with men, but on a woman he certainly considered it among one of the more alluring charms a lady could possess. At her smile and humble nod, Lucas was content to allow things to go from there, a simple and yet brief interaction with an unexpected individual, before carrying on his way. When she spoke, he tilted his head minutely to the left at her accent, slightly charmed by the British lilts and falls twisted around her natural twang, forming something that was quite unique to her. It was something he would recognize in the future; a distinguishing way with words that would not hide her if they met again behind masks and lies, he was certain. ”Now what sort of gentleman would I be if I did not inquire toward your welfare, after having been so rude as to stand in your way?” Lucas returned, his tone mild and polite, with an air so slightly teasing beneath it that it could easily be missed; Lucas did not need his time in France to remember the subtle ways of conversations with pretty women – that had been ingrained into him ages ago by deportment teachers and indignant ladies alike during his teenage years, after all. At her returned concern, Lucas politely waved her off with a smile and a simple shake of his head. ”No harm done, my dear, I assure you,” He stated smoothly, seeking to assure her that there was little need for concern. ”I am more than aware of how rambunctious young teenagers can get at the prospect of a Honeydukes weekend – ah, pardon me, a Hogsmeade weekend,” He amended, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he made an attempt to cheer her over the social faux pas of running into someone with an easy joke. About to politely take his leave of her, Lucas found himself surprised by her offer for a drink. For a moment, he was silent as he mulled the idea over. A drink with a fine looking lass was not something Lucas generally passed up if there was nothing pressing going on, and as he had come to Hogsmeade mostly on a lark, it seemed a viable second option to sneaking into Hogwarts and stalking down Severus for the sheer hilarity of it. Rather than answer with words, Lucas half turned and held his arm out to her in a manner most gallant and traditional, a smile on his features that was undoubtedly dashing. ”I would be honored,” He responded, voice low and smooth as ever. He may have spent fifteen years in Azkaban, but there were some things he had not forgotten; as his exploits in France had certainly attested. It was probably best that he had spent a year in a country so free with its sexuality, as Lucas had always been a rather physical human being, and his years in the cells had left him considerably yearning for the touch of a warm body against his own. Yet the peace and debauchery of France was behind him, a year of reprieve, relaxation and healing left behind in favor of duty, obligation and preparation. He played a dangerous game now, one he could not risk jeopardizing by being too free with himself; which in the end, was probably best for Aurora all around. Her poetic soul would surely be lured by Lucas’ capabilities for romance and expert delivery, but a sweet soul was not something that could tame Lucas or keep him in place. The chase would be beautiful, but the aftermath a ruin. All told, she was better off in the fact he was sated and distracted, his unconsciously alluring behaviour more a habit than a deliberate ruse. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[catryona]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: f9f9f9; border: #729295 solid 10px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] i run to you, call out your name Aurora pondered over the gentleman before her. He was stout, firm, and resolute. He seemed confident and charming, all the manner of things that women would swoon for. Her gentle smile remained, she wondered, what he was thinking about her. She was not so oblivious to his eyes movement that she'd missed his subtle looked over of her form. She smirked inwardly, the sweetness in her smile remaining on her face as she watched him, gauging his reaction, his movements, his mannerisms. Aurora was a calculating sort, though she'd never had an affirmation for raising her standing, she more of less had the ability. She was content with her life, with her work, with herself, as such, she didn't often flaunt her abilities of observation or her acute sense of people. She was the Astronomy Professor, rumored to be either aloof or partially delirious on a regular basis. Yes, let others think what they would of her, she knew who she was and liked it very much. She spent the few moments that the gentleman before her was silent, mulling the small details he let go about his character. He apparently was French, or had spent a good deal of time there, so that his words came out much like liquid velvet.. yes, that was a very agreeable way for her to describe them. Liquid velvet The gentility to which he spoke was as if he were surrounded in satin, as if he were whispering through a gossamer curtain. Yes, how he would make women swoon. How he had the ability to make their knees buckle. She swallowed softly, the thought of buckling and giving into whiles was always an appealing sort of ideal, though Aurora didn't have the time for frivolity nor did she have the stomach for mind games (though usually when she wasn't the one dealing). She almost wondered if he acted this way so deliberately. He seemed charming, dashing even, as such... it was easy for a woman to feel comfortable around someone of his caliper, but she pondered the question... was he so willfully deceitful or did he beguile unknowingly. He held his arm out to her, touche. She chuckled softly and made a small curtsy. "It is you who honor me, sir." She said to him, her British accent coming out richly, as her words echoed sentiment. She slipped her arm through his and rested her hand against her other. Holding her own hand as it were, her bag on her other arm. She looked up at him, well, he was rather tall in comparison to her, wasn't he? Well, that was to be expected, but she looked up at him regardless, this being the first time she'd actually been close to him and able to look upon his features in detail. He was rather handsome, even in close proximity. His features seemed refreshed, lucky for him, she supposed. She turned her attention from him then, looking on down High Street as they walked toward The Three Broomsticks. She was silent, for a few moments, before deciding that since she was currently locked arms with the gentleman, she very likely should tell him her name. "Aurora..." She said simply. "I figured since we'd be in company for at least a small time longer, that, I should tell ya my name." She turned her attention back to him just long enough to flash a gentle smile, before carrying on watching down the road. She was correct, the Inn was not as crowded as normal, which was thankful... she didn't enjoy a lot of noise. She was predominantly awake in the evening, so she was accustomed to the quiet, as such, noise gave her a headache. Though, granted, too much noise likely gave anyone a headache. She walked through the entrance and slipped her arm from the gentleman's, nodding to him softly before taking a seat off to the side of the room. She looked about for a moment, again, without a word. Waving over a waitress she then turned to the man once more. She winked at him, before speaking. "Pick yer poison..." Her words were light, airy, gentle, though with a teasing undertone. She ordered a coffee, having a class later that evening and was not the type of person to drink before a lecture. She then took her bag from her arm and set it beside her, closest to the wall before sighing and getting a bit more comfortable in her seat. "So, what brought you to Hogsmead today?" She asked him, not attempting to make small talk, but actually wondering his intentions for the day. Partially because she hoped she was not intruding and partially because, with his tidy attire and mannerisms, he did sort of stick out in a crowd... he clearly, was not a frequenter of Hogsmead. i see you there, farther away tagged lucas words 819 notes Sorry for the shortness in post. x.x credits irisheyes of C.20

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[LUCAS DONOVAN CAIN MULCIBER]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]970 WORDS FOR AURORA --- DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]The smallest of smiles played across Lucas’ lips as the woman gave him a delicate curtsy, her response at once amusing and pleasing in his eyes. He gave her a moment to settle upon his arm, the courtesy of higher gentry coming more naturally than it had before Azakaban; in his younger years, he had preferred wilder ways. He had been a man of action then – a man of darkness, desire and ambition, not to mention greater aims and intentions than he had ever dared to speak aloud. Lucas had known what was expected of him when it came to socialization, had followed those norms to a painstakingly perfect degree for the pride of a man who, by then, was dead, and the pride of a woman who was never around to see if he succeeded or failed. Over time, as Lucas carefully juggled the courtesy of higher society with the darker intentions of his greater goals, he came to the realization that it was not just the pride of the dead and the unavailable he sought, but the pride of Mulciber in general. He had much to make up for; his father had tarnished the British house considerably and the fact Lucas himself had lowered the house even further by joining Voldemort’s cause was just one more thing he had to overcome. The defeat of Voldemort should have been the start of his work toward this end, but Rodolphus and Bellatrix had managed to lure him on that final mission – it wasn’t his way, not his style – but he owed both of them a couple of favors, and he saw no harm in it. Sixteen years in Azkaban certainly taught him elsewise, but then again Lucas may not have learned that which he ought to have learned from the punishment. Whatever he had taken from his time in Azkaban was kept tightly hidden, reflected only occasionally in letters and carefully placed comments that had too many levels of meaning to be fully deciphered. His time in France had helped him re-establish much of his old mannerisms, which had become carefully honed quite quickly. Much of his deceit, such as it was, came naturally and without any full intention toward drawing people in to him; when his intentions were to lure people in, he tended to be far more deliberate in his actions and each one was designed to specifically draw forth the reactions he needed in the moment. His mind was not at all on the hunt, or the chase – this interaction was purely non-manipulative, furthering no ends other than polite courtesy and whim – thus, all actions which could have been read as dishonest were simply parts of Lucas’ personality and habits showing through. Looking down at her as she offered him her name, Lucas inclined his head politely and responded smoothly, “Lucas,” Without skipping a beat or at all hesitating, he offered his true name, once again grateful that his parents had seen fit to name him something relatively common. It made falsifying his name ever so much simpler when it came time to do so. ”It is a pleasure to meet you, Aurora,” he continued honestly, holding the door for her as they stepped inside the Three Broomsticks, as was proper. She slid from his grip then, something he allowed with no resistance, looking about the pub with a somewhat distant expression that slowly softened as a smile came across his features. This place brought with it so many fond memories, that it was hard not to allow himself to fall back on them, now that it was safe to do so. Sixteen years of keeping all thoughts of a happy nature under tightly clasped Occlumency shields, losing some now and then when the Dementors came too close, or grew too restless with him, had put such a gap in his mind that genuine contentment was hard to grasp hold of now. Taking his seat across from Aurora, Lucas allowed himself a moment, just a brief spot in time, to embrace the warmth of the memories, the sounds of childish laughter so long forgotten and protected. His gaze wandered the pub, softer and more open than one would have thought possible for a man so poised as he allowed the feelings to touch upon his heart once again. Aurora’s voice returned to him to the present soon enough and it fell away, the memories and emotions pooling back to the place they knew best, the corner of his mind they had lived in for nearly half of his life. The brightness that had come so briefly to his hazel-green gaze faded, leaving behind the distant politeness of a man of means and politics, as opposed to a man of heart and mind. ”A butterbeer will do nicely, I think,” Lucas responded mildly, giving in to a moment of childish yearning as he inclined his head to the waitress, waiting for her to take her leave before turning to Aurora once more and responding to her question. ”In truth, I came here mostly on a flight of fancy,” He confessed, waving a slight hand toward where Rosemerta was pouring drinks and laughing at one of her frequent customers. ”It has been too long, I think. I sought a reprieve from the bustle of London, but I think I forgot just how quaint Hogsmeade truly is.” Turning his gaze back to her, Lucas allowed his eyes to fall to her Honeydukes packages, before raising them back to her and inquiring, ”And what of you, Aurora? Anything other than your sweet-tooth to lure you to Hogsmeade today?” He inquired, knowing that she was likely here for whims as well, considering she had been the one to invite him to tea, and curious as to what those whims might have been. [/style]

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[catryona]

I SEE YOU THERE FARTHER AWAY

[style=width:400px; background-color: #E0EEEE; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #000000;overflow:AUTO; height: 250px; border-top: 3px solid #687d77;]Aurora watched Lucas for a few moments, there was something about him that had changed. He had become a different man almost instantly. She took his moments of silence to truly look at him, he was not the man she'd met coming out of Honeydukes... he was entirely different. He seemed, alive. She couldn't help but smile ever so slightly as she watched him relive whatever it was that had made him so pleased. She wondered what he was thinking about, what had made him so serene in such a short amount of time. It was possible he was back in his younger years, seeing through the eyes of a young boy. Such envisioning happened often to Aurora. Places or objects that held some sort of meaning to her, brought her back to a much simpler time and in many ways, a happier time.

Aurora was genuinely intrigued be the gentleman across from her. It was not often that she met someone so complex and yet so seemingly simplistic at the same time. It was as if his mannerisms in and of themselves were a paradox. She found herself wondering more about the former Lucas, the one he had only been for a mere moment during their encounter. What had happened to him to make him so proper, so polite, so... methodical. Had he truly grown up so much that he held none of the wonderment on his youth? If this was true, he must lead such a hollow life. It was a painful thought. She sighed softly, though not exactly meaning to do so aloud.

She looked back at Lucas and smiled slightly, understanding the need for something different. "Well, I do hope your trip is more fancy, than flight." She said with a slight chuckle. The joke was horrid, simply terrible, but she had found it rather amusing, even if Lucas did not. The smile remained on her lips as she turned her attention to the waitress that had just returned to them, with their drinks in tow. Aurora nodded politely to the woman and took her coffee. She poured a small amount of sugar in and and took a sip, sighing softly as she felt the warmth of it slide down her throat. She thoroughly enjoyed coffee and the company she had obtained was not too bad either. She smiled once more, setting down her mug on the table to answer Lucas' questions.

She leaned back in her chair slightly, adjusting the bottom hem of her dress for a moment before clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. "I am a professor at Hogwarts." She stated simply. "Some students have come to Hogsmead on a lark and it is my responsibility to be near in the event that something happens or someone needs an authority. As such, I decided that while I was here I would go into the sweet shop and obtain my usual accoutrement's. I tend to enjoy a great many varieties and as well, I use them to reward my students who answer questions correctly in my class." She spoke softly, her hands still remaining where they'd been placed until she'd finished speaking.

She then reached once more for her mug of coffee, taking another sip and sighing a bit more. She enjoyed the comfort of it, but this coffee was still a bit weak for her taste. She took another sip and set the mug down. "I was on my way to the tea shop... yes, yes, I know, dreadfully cliche place... but I digress, I was on my way there when I was overrun by the young-lings and accidentally ran into you. The particular establishment, though horridly tacky, has my brand of coffee and tea. I usually purchase it in bulk so that I may brew it in my office or chambers daily. I am a night owl," she chuckled softly at that, "so caffeine is my Goddess." Which was rather true, though not as intensely true as if she were to say the night sky was her Goddess.

She shifted in her seat slightly and unclasped her hands, brushing a few locks of her thick black hair from her shoulders and behind to her back. She then took a moment to look over Lucas a bit. She was admiring his form and his rather... amble shoulders. He seemed a strong, fit type. She wondered if he'd done manual labor in his earlier years, or if he was simply a man who enjoyed exercise. Either way, it had done him rather good. She cleared her throat and smirked a hint, before taking another swig of her coffee. "So tell me Lucas..." she said after setting the mug down once more. "You seem a man of means and a man of poise, though I do not enjoy rushing to judgments about people. I am simply observing you, I hope you do not mind." In fact she was, it was as if he was laid out before her like a chart of stars.

That was an interesting simile... laid out before her. Metaphorically or realistically, neither was a bad prospect. Though one would very likely never happen. She inwardly chuckled. "I find your character rather fascinating. Your accent, French? Yet you are in this area. Which is something quite interesting indeed... as Hogwarts only ever entertained four countries of students and France is not on that list. So, if you do not mind me saying so, I find you a rather intriguing anomaly." She took another sip of her coffee, looking over the brim of the mug, her eyes glistening with interest. She set the mug down and smirked softly over at Lucas, before waving the waitress over for a refill.

TAG: lucas mulciber || WORD COUNT: 978 || NOTES: teehee<3
TEMPLATE MADE BY: myla

[LUCAS DONOVAN CAIN MULCIBER]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1014 WORDS FOR AURORA Loving Lucas in this post >.> Theres a secret in it ;3 DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Lucas found a small smile curving over his features as Aurora delivered her old joke, his indulgence partially a genuine amusement that she would see fit to use it, and a secretive sort of entertainment at the irony of it. It was deeply amusing how easy it was to walk freely through the wizarding community with only the most basic of cosmetic changes to make himself invisible to those searching for him. He was, by all rights, on the run from the law – flight, as it were – and yet he was here mostly out of fancy and whim, carrying himself with very little concern toward the danger he courted. Lucas knew what the Aurors expected of ‘Lucas Mulciber’ and had been quite certain to not deliver anything that could provide a hint to where he was; the two things he had done, he had also ascertained he looked just like his wanted poster, thus ensuring that the witnesses kept the Aurors sniffing in all the wrong places. It felt like a game of cat and mouse, in which the cat was playing a round of poker whilst simultaneously winning at chess while the mouse ran around in circles of terror and confusion every time the cat meowed. ”That is the hope,” Lucas replied, lifting his drink and partaking of it as Aurora spoke of her profession. His attention was peaked by the knowledge that she was a Hogwarts professor, a part of his mind instantly calculating a way to use that information as a means to get into the castle and shock Severus into a whole set of grey hairs. His smile at the thought seemed more like an indulgent one towards her commentary on the feeding of sweets to students, and his response did not at all indicate where his thoughts had taken him. ”A noble profession indeed – though I can’t recall any of my professors offering out sweets,” Lucas added with a slight chuckle. ”What do you teach, if you don’t mind me asking? Rumor has it old McGonagall is still kicking through Transfiguration, so it can’t be that,” He mused, as if attempting to guess at it through deductions. It took Lucas a moment to realize which tea shop the woman spoke of, and when he came to the conclusion, he politely looked off to the side to hide his disdain. Once his expression had returned to a more appropriate politeness, he turned back to his company and responded smoothly, ”Not a placeI care for, personally. Its a pity they’re the only ones who carry your tea; though one would think they could deliver it to you,” He mused again, taking another sip of his drink and relishing, for a moment, the long-lost familiarity of its taste. It was at this point that Aurora turned the conversation from herself and onto him, as was so often the flow of things. He inclined his head ever so politely in the face of her observations, respecting them for what they were and establishing them further by his natural formality. ”Nothing to mind, I don’t think. It is in our natures to observe,” Lucas responded lightly, dismissing her concern with aplomb before granting her a smile at the mention of how ‘interesting’ his character was. Upon her observations, Lucas nodded slightly before responding with due care, mixing honesty with lies with artistry. ”Your observations are most keen, and I can see how they would make a mystery of me.” The way of words had been trained into Lucas at a young age by various tutors, but it was Ramone who had taught him the beauty formality could create if utilized correctly. Time among the French branch of the Mulciber clan had shown Lucas that the ways of the 18th century had remained deeply ingrained within their ways, and it had been fascinating to observe; his time among them had helped hone his skills as a silver tongue, if nothing else. ”As it is, I come from a rather extensive family line that is often trading sons and daughters for the sake of education outside the home country. While it is generally customary for the branches to remain within their sects, they will from time to time make arrangements for alternative education, usually for political reasons,” He informed her, waving his hand slightly at the political commentary, as though to indicate it was all rather droll, really. ”My home country is, as you have accurately deduced, France,” Lucas continued, falling easily into the tale he had weaved with the Parisian elders before his return to England. ”However I was exchanged with a lass several years my junior and sent to live with my cousins and uncles here in England for the duration of my school years, resulting in the anomaly of a French Hogwarts graduate,” The explanation fell smoothly, ringing with a touch of humor and sadness that made it seem undoubtedly true. It was easy to call up such emotions as he spoke, though the reasons behind them were carefully not examined. ”I did return to France after my graduation, which was quite lucky as some of my English relatives fell into rather terrible repute,” Lucas stated, his tone falling rather cold and dismissive, as though the mere thought of those disreputable relatives was not only disdainful, but hardly worth his time to mention. ”It has been many years since I have been on English soil,” Lucas went on, as though completely overlooking his earlier comment, or truly dismissing it out of hand as unworthy of reflection. ”However what with the decline of the clan here, their land has been assigned to the family in France as well as the family in Spain – truly unwise, if you ask me,” he added, dropping his voice as though sharing a bit of a secret, or gossip as it were. ”Always butting heads with the Spaniards, we are. Having both lines in charge of something is just asking for pomposity and stubbornness, which never ends well.” Smiling easily, Lucas took another sip of his drink and carried on in an easy tone, ”I’ve been sent in as a representative for my uncle Ramone, who is head of the family back home. There’s a Spanish representative around here somewhere,” He added in a delightfully amused tone, ”Likely taking up residence in the Ministry’s international ambassadorial rooms, which would be part of the reason why I’ve yet to see him. Never really was one for Ministry accommodations,” Lucas explained, a teasing smile on his lips. ”Too many politics involved for my tastes. So I’ve taken to a small flat in London, and have been in the slow process of getting into contact with my old friends from Hogwarts.” [/style]

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