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Tazenhani · 04-16-2015, 03:05 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Magical Soul

The man took the half-eaten apple. Peverell was impressed that this man was willing to show trust on their first meeting, heck on their first few minutes together. It showed that he was serious about this one-sided bargain thing. He wasn't a mole. He wasn't trying to set him up or get him in trouble.

Good thing the apple wasn't poisonous. Whew.

"You are in luck, then, because I am the master of bargains around here." He put his feet down to the dusty floor and leaned forwards on his elbows, the table serving as his support. "You may take a seat before we start talking." He gestured to one of the far old chairs in the shop, and expected the young man to drag it over to the table where they could pretend they were having a small business conference. "Tell me, lad. What kind of young man, such as yourself, would request a one-sided bargain, no pay, though he could use a few extra galleons on attire?" Peverell gave the younger man a brief look of disgust.

In short, why? Who is he?

That wasn't a no. Mathis had been so used to hearing the word that it's counterpart was foregin to his ears. Especially coming from this man, the 'master of bargains'. The faintest of faint smiles twitched briefly on his lips. It wasn't a no. It sounded like a yes.

Taking another bite of the apple, he handed it back over before casting about for a chair. Upon finding one tucked haphazardly in a corner, Mathis made his way over, his eyes back to their roaming, pulling him along step by step. Had he had the time, or got something closer to a 'no', he would have taken a few minutes to explore the shop and its mysteries. As it was, all he could was examine, pick up the chair and let his eyes pull him back along the shelves and cubbies, back to the table.

Once there, his gaze took to tracing the grain of the wood on the table, the scuffs and callouses of hard use, as he set the chair across from the finely dressed man. After a brief moment, he took a seat. He neither perched nor reclined, simply sat and let his gaze drift back from the table, along the fine weaves of the man's suit, his tie, the contrasting smoothness of skin and back to the dark eyes.

He blinked once. His attire? It was simple really.

"I know my place. Money, means little to me."

Consciously, his hands went to the sides of his coat, fingers rubbing at the hem near the buttons. A soft smile took to his lips as his eyes slipped down to the weave of the coat, to a worn spot that had faded from consistent rubbing. His eyes, however, didn't smile. They took on the light of disgust, similar to Peverell's but distinctly different. An angered disgust, distantly directed.

His thumb took to rubbing that same spot. Around and around and around. Scrubbing, back and forth and back and forth. "Why...."

The rubbing stopped abruptly, and his eyes came up, locking onto the waiting man's. The tone of his voice changed too, as if the question he had been about to ask, had suddenly been redirected. "...did the chicken cross the road?"

04-16-2015, 03:05 PM	#64 (permalink)
Tazenhani DMLE & DoM Doxy Join Date: Oct 2009 Posts: 6,150 Hogwarts RPG Name: Amur Neverwinter Fourth Year	~ Rise and Rise Again, Until Lambs become Lions ~ Quote: Originally Posted by Magical Soul The man took the half-eaten apple. Peverell was impressed that this man was willing to show trust on their first meeting, heck on their first few minutes together. It showed that he was serious about this one-sided bargain thing. He wasn't a mole. He wasn't trying to set him up or get him in trouble. Good thing the apple wasn't poisonous. Whew. "You are in luck, then, because I am the master of bargains around here." He put his feet down to the dusty floor and leaned forwards on his elbows, the table serving as his support. "You may take a seat before we start talking." He gestured to one of the far old chairs in the shop, and expected the young man to drag it over to the table where they could pretend they were having a small business conference. "Tell me, lad. What kind of young man, such as yourself, would request a one-sided bargain, no pay, though he could use a few extra galleons on attire?" Peverell gave the younger man a brief look of disgust. In short, why? Who is he? That wasn't a no. Mathis had been so used to hearing the word that it's counterpart was foregin to his ears. Especially coming from this man, the 'master of bargains'. The faintest of faint smiles twitched briefly on his lips. It wasn't a no. It sounded like a yes. Taking another bite of the apple, he handed it back over before casting about for a chair. Upon finding one tucked haphazardly in a corner, Mathis made his way over, his eyes back to their roaming, pulling him along step by step. Had he had the time, or got something closer to a 'no', he would have taken a few minutes to explore the shop and its mysteries. As it was, all he could was examine, pick up the chair and let his eyes pull him back along the shelves and cubbies, back to the table. Once there, his gaze took to tracing the grain of the wood on the table, the scuffs and callouses of hard use, as he set the chair across from the finely dressed man. After a brief moment, he took a seat. He neither perched nor reclined, simply sat and let his gaze drift back from the table, along the fine weaves of the man's suit, his tie, the contrasting smoothness of skin and back to the dark eyes. He blinked once. His attire? It was simple really. "I know my place. Money, means little to me." Consciously, his hands went to the sides of his coat, fingers rubbing at the hem near the buttons. A soft smile took to his lips as his eyes slipped down to the weave of the coat, to a worn spot that had faded from consistent rubbing. His eyes, however, didn't smile. They took on the light of disgust, similar to Peverell's but distinctly different. An angered disgust, distantly directed. His thumb took to rubbing that same spot. Around and around and around. Scrubbing, back and forth and back and forth. "Why...." The rubbing stopped abruptly, and his eyes came up, locking onto the waiting man's. The tone of his voice changed too, as if the question he had been about to ask, had suddenly been redirected. "...did the chicken cross the road?" __________________ I've got a fire for a heart._________________________________________________ I'm not scared of the dark._________________________________________ _______________________________________You've never seen it look so easy.