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@draeconianfae
@songoftherose // “oh. and that’s a lovely perfume your wearing.” mal kept her distance from rose at most points, but every now and again, seeing the girl helped guide her motives and somewhat rekindled her frustration with the girl. the girl and her mother. but anyhow. “ =very floral, isn’t it? do you know the kind?”
Oh Boy!
mousemanmichael:
“Well a shot of neat whiskey can fix any hangover” Michael beamed half jokingly, half serious. He looked at the mysterious woman as she wondered about his plans, “ Many things, I could just pop some off tonight, it’s the first day of the year, how could there not be a party? “ he chuckled.
“I’d like to think that,” Mal replies, a smirk playing across her face. She almost laughs at his tone as well. Sort of happy and joking and mildly haphazard. “It’s certainly a celebration but I don’t know how many people would like two consecutive days of fireworks.”
underworldlylord:
In a surprise to everyone, including himself, Hades was in a good mood. This wasn’t uncommon, not after New Year’s Eve, at least, but the amount of money he’d made? He just needed to figure out what to get with it, since the club didn’t need more improvement.
“Serious question: long vacation in the Mediterranean or beach house in the States? Gotta figure out where to spend February.”
“Neither,” Mal says, offhandedly and apathetically. “Go for France. It’s better than here in the bleak midwinter,” she says, eyeing the number of people, mostly winter tourists, wiping out on the pavement. “Besides, February? You don’t want to be around for,” she looks mockingly angelic now, a parody of young love, “the most romantic time of the year?”
Oh Boy!
mousemanmichael:
All these fireworks left over from last night…. Might just use it for the club.
Mal wanted to laugh at the statement. “With all the hangovers abound? That’s quite a cruel move if you were to do it tonight.” But Mal assumed this man, with nice clothes and friendly demeanour, would not bring her that little bit of joy. “No, no. So... what are you thinking of using them for? What do people in New York use them for if not for 4th of July or sports events?”
Continued from Here
It wasn’t often that Mal was surprised by other’s thoughtfulness, but she would let herself for this occasion. She took the gifts and examined them, her face somewhat blank. Though, she often has a blank face when reading anything. She does eventually smile though, gratefully. She isn’t completely heartless, and these are nice gifts. “Thank you,” she says, in a charming fashion. And then she hands him a small box wrapped in gift tissue and fabric carbage, holding a small lapel pin. It was cliche, she knew. But it was a safe gift anyways. “Here’s for you as well. And how is your evening? Are you enjoying the holiday party?”
thebedeviledking:
Aaric let out an overly dramatic sigh and leaned his head back. “Then why do I entertain you if I won’t be given kindness?” he asked. He looked over at her. “It is what it is.” It would be a lie to say he didn’t at least enjoy their banter a little bit. “Yes, an affair. With a younger woman even. Are you jealous?” Though he wasn’t really seeing anyone getting a rise out of her would be fun. “You are one of a kind, Mal.”
“Because you adore me regardless,” she counters with a quick, smart grin. Jocularity? How dare she. Mal sits up a bit straighter, indignant. “Jealousy? How unbecoming,” she says, though she looks at least a bit irked. “And a younger woman as well? You should be careful how you proceed, sir. You never know if that green-eyed monster will do something drastic.” But she smiles at him nonetheless and finally gets up from his chair and sits beside him, using the armrest of his and rubbing his shoulder for a moment. “That’s nice of you to say. Well, I think you’re one of a kind as well, Aaric.”
goofproof:
Max could already tell he probably picked the wrong car to talk to. She didn’t seem to happy to see him nor that stoked that he was asking her for a ride. He tried to smile as best he could, though he was aware it probably came out looking more goofy than he wished. ❛ Thank you, so much. Seriously. ❜ Max got into the passengers seat, trying to be as least problematic as possible. He kept his arms close to his side and his knees pressed together. ❛ I’m Max, by the way. Figured you may want to know the weirdo in your car. ❜
“You’re welcome,” she replies, without much ceremony. She’s pressed the gas and they’ve probably gone a minute--only a minute--before she asks, “so what are you in trouble for, then?” It’s a steady question, and Mal’s eyeing him in a curious way, though not interrogative yet. “And you needn’t be so tense, Max. I promise”--she lies--“that I’m a lot nicer than I look. I’m Mal.”
goofproof:
❛ ‘Scuse me, pardon me. Out of the way. ❜ Max said as he shoved himself between people trying to escape the angry man chasing after him. Running around a corner he looked to the person in the car beside him. ❛ Hey, how much money can I pay you to let me get a lift? Like a lowkey Uber situation. I accidentally pissed off a guy and he looked pretty jacked. ❜
This. Directly this. Was why Mal almost never drove anywhere. She would never refer to herself as lazy, unmotivated, or any of that other crap. But she just didn’t really want to walk seventeen blocks for the only good pastries this city offered. Or... rather, only good authentic French pastries. Good lord, the things she suffered for wanting one mundane day. Still, whoever this was looked mighty frazzled, and she couldn’t help but offer a bit of a smirk to the situation. Privately. Although she’s a bit irritated, she relents and tosses her pastry bag into the backseat and unlocks the passenger door. “Come on, get in,” she says, inclining her head. “We can figure that out on the way.”
thebedeviledking:
Aaric rolled his eyes and propped his feet up on the chair beside him. His eyes meet her gaze for a moment then down to her newspaper. It was nothing he could understand. The picture plastered on the front made him wonder what the article was about though. “No, you’re not.” His gaze met hers again. “Forgiven? Why, thank you. I don’t deserve your kindness.” A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not at all. Maybe I’m seeing another woman,” he teased.
Mal enjoys antagonising Aaric. He’s one of the only people she can banter with without wanting to kill them outright. Or at least lay down a more complex plan to prolong their torment. “I’m not kind,” she says, rebutting his comments. “Such slanderous language, Aaric.” She looks hurt a moment, though drops it quickly. She laughs, even. “Ah yes. An affair of sorts? Well, that’s fine, I suppose. Though, what a loss. And I don’t feel like being replaced today. Though, I doubt anyone is quite like me, my dear. Not as good at sneaking into city hall. And certainly not as good of a strategist.”
221bmouse:
“Are they? I’ve never thought of them that way although I don’t seem to understand romance or think of it the same as most people,” Basil said cocking his head to the side confused. “Oh yeah that makes sense. Lots of professions are romanticized in films or tv. Yeah films tend to do that, that’s one of the best parts of films. You forget everything bothering you as you focus on the film and like you said you start thinking everything is possible. No I don’t but I think it’s difficult for people to romanticize their own life. People tend to think of themselves as boring while it seems more interesting to outsiders.”
“A fair assessment,” Mal agrees, her tone even. “The French romanticise everything, though. I would know.” She inclines her head, a show of courtesy. “So do you see your job as boring? Or is it your life at large? I’m curious how you find... detective work... boring. Or if it was an example?” Her hands fold neatly, and she’s the picture of cordial behaviour. Far from any sort of troublemaker that this detective should be looking out for.
thebedeviledking:
Aaric was a very busy man and working for the mayor of one of the world’s most renowned cities meant his work was cut out for him. He was constantly in meetings and going to public events. It was all for the greater good though. All part of his plan to cleanse the world. When he was finished with his last engagement of the day he went back to his office, wanting nothing more than to lean back in his chair and close his eyes for five minutes. Instead he was met with a woman sitting in his chair. Aaric was only slightly irritated though. Mostly that he didn’t get to sit in his chair. Instead he took a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, meant for guests. “Late to my own office? How dare I,” he said in an almost mocking tone. “Well, it is city hall. I would hope security is doing there job. It seems like now I’ll have to talk to head of their department to make sure they keep out any unwanted visitors.” Not that Mal was an unwanted visitor but he had to at least try and get a rise out of her. “My apologies for doing my job, Mal.” He was more so teasing this time around. “Dare I ask what brings you here unannounced?”
“Yes,” she replies back, chastising, “how dare you.” But she cracks a smirk at him and continues to flip the pages of her paper, ignoring, of course, the fact that it’s in French and that Aaric might not be one for her humour in irrelevant headlines. “Security isn’t the issue, dear. They’re doing their jobs fine as it is. I’m just not the typical clientele,” she asserts, pivoting the chair and resting her feet, instead of on his desk, back to the ground. She sets the paper across his desk, notably absent of his paperweights, though she does not vacate his seat. “Well, you are, I suppose, forgiven,” she replies, all tongue in cheek. She loves that look on his face when he’s irritated. Or rather, the look on his face when he is irritated... by her. “I am here because you’ve been standing me up on our outings. Is work really so riveting?”
221bmouse:
“I guess it could be. I don’t really see it as exciting but that’s probably because I’m on the other side and that’s what I do most days,” Basil responded shrugging. “Well that’s a useful talent to have. I’m not the best at remembering names, faces yes, names no. I get pretty close but sometimes I mix up a few letters. Most of the times my cases aren’t as exciting as those films make them out to be but on occasion they are. I grew up loving the Sherlock Holmes stories so I can understand your excitement.”
Mal wasn’t as acutely irritated by him now. Only... broadly. He’d ruined her plans to cause at least some suffering (damn, she was probably going to make it until dinner without making anyone cry) but at least he wasn’t as dry as she thought he’d be. “Yes, well, detective stories are rather romantic when you think about them. Maybe overly so. Not in the romance of people, and their love and such. Not a fan of romance novels either. No, no. I think the romanticisation of the profession. The beautiful film artistry, cinema, is it? It makes you feel that everything is possible in film. And the idea of breaking the ordinary cycle while being an ordinary person. Ah, you must forgive me. I’ve grown up with too many French detective stories, I think. I doubt you’ve thought of your own life in that romanticisation lens. For you, it is all real.”
@thebedeviledking // He would hate her for this, she knows. Or, maybe would hate anyone else doing it but her. She’s got her feet on his desk, though, to her credit, she did clear away any papers or important items before she did it. Was he off on a meeting? Was he doing some sort of nefarious thing? If so, was he really not going to invite her? She would be hurt if he didn’t invite her. (Only slightly. But she would be.) Mal is reclining in his chair, his fancy chair that she always said would go a bit better if he fixed the damn wheel on the thing. He skipped out on their last lunch, and maybe their dinner before that? Maybe? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to get out of talking to her. When the doors finally did open, she folded back her newspaper dramatically, like in those classic films or whatever, and smiled up at him, only somewhat slighted. “You’re late, again. Do you know how hard it is to break in here? It’s pretty hard, you know.” The tone is somewhat uncharacteristic of Mal, who is often a bit--less to smile. But Aaric brings out at least some humor in her. He’s one of the only ones who can, even if she’s deliberately trying to (mildly) annoy him right now. “I’m all for crashing parties and forced entry, but could you at least be here to enjoy the act?”
therealnealxhopper:
He smirked a bit in response, nodding as he looked down at the cigarette in his hand for a moment. “Well, part of me doesn’t want to say because I think you’ll pick it apart and try to make it not fun anymore.” he was mostly teasing. Fun for him was getting high. Sometimes it was getting high with some company he could take to bed afterward. Or sometimes gambling through poker or other such games. Really it all depended on his mood. “Your goals that important that you can’t take a break? What are they, you trying to be head of the book club or something?” he jabbed a little playfully. There was a bit of humor that she kept bringing into play, but everything she described sounded rather dull in comparison to how they just met and such. “Well, watching some rich fucks fight over shards of glass sounds like a real party to me,” Hopper jested, looking over to her as he took another puff. “What sorta company do you care for?”
“My goals are... time sensitive,” she replies, coolly, then adds, indignant “and nothing so boring.” She’s smirking at him, as he teases her though. And she thinks he ought to know that she would never stoop to be such a mundane person. But perhaps she was a great actress in that regard. And he’d asked about the company she enjoyed and she couldn’t help but laugh, the smoke making it look like she may, at any moment, breathe fire. “Company? Must I keep any?” But then she’s not joking and says, “I prefer the company of like-minded, exciting, and intelligent people. I don’t suffer fools, though they do something wiggle their way into my life.”
marquxsphilip:
Philip carefully receives the bouquet of small bulbs from the woman and carries them in his other arm that’s holding the freesias. “Right, the last thing the missus and I need is something to go awry before the big day. But I know everything will be perfect.” he nodded. He pays attention to the directions she explained about the daisies, and it does sound simple and honestly romantic like she mentioned. “It does sound sweet and intimate. I can give it a try even if it’s an old tradition.”
“Do you believe in magic and romance, sir,” Mal asks suddenly, holding a rose, lavender in color, in her hands. “There are certain magics that flowers have, or so they say. I wonder if you believe that they can tell the future, or affect true love, or help people bond. Do you believe in that sort of power? Or do you think such things are boring?”
Mal watches his face for the response he does not say, but shows. She seems to not care much for any display of action, but of reaction. And before you know it, she’s back to tending to her flowers, the flowers that would find knew homes and hopefully not die soon after. She ties some with a bow, despite the fact that they were now on an expedite path to being obsolete.
“Now then, you want nothing to go wrong before the big day? A mighty order. Of the weather, the sky, the catering, the dress, everything. And yet, flowers and flowers. They sparkle, dazzle. If nothing else, count on flowers.”
