[Mingling Post] Open University (Cont'd)

[only_paul]

On the board in the common room, there's a list of open classes. Available classes
(schedules may be determined bona fide by the instructor and the student):

• History (Paul *****)
• Political science (Zillah Katz)
• Alchemy (Alphonse Elric)
• First Aid (Dr. Muraki)
• Vampirism in legend and popular culture (Dr. Muraki)

Comments

[thornofcamorr]

We are sincerely sorry, ahead of time. It will almost inevitably be necessary.

Locke is looking down the list, mouth twitching, but he manages not to laugh audibly until he gets to a certain one, when he sounds a bit like choking. "Fashion skills," he says, certainly audibly; rather loudly, in fact. "You're kidding me. Right?"

Locke never judges anyone. Riiight.

[fairy_fingers]

Angelique was just wandering in - the pretty young lady is in fact right next to Lock and just finished the line where her best friend's name is listed.

"--- I beg your pardon?"

She's not happy with what she's hearing.

[thornofcamorr]

He glances at Angelique, taking her in, and can't keep his mouth from twitching again. She looks so...helpless. And harmless. And like the kind of person Locke would con not for the money but just because it would be fun.

He indicates the board. "Fashion classes. If you need a class for that, I'd think you're out of luck." A pause, and he adds, with just a bit of a grin, "And besides, it's the stupidest fucking idea I've heard in a while, and that's saying something."

[fairy_fingers]

Again, she blinks at him. "... please, Monsieur, your language. It's very offensive."

And she does, indeed, look quite offended.

[thornofcamorr]

"I am offensive," Locke says, cheekily. Obviously. "It's my hallmark. Dare I even say, 'godsfucking offensive.' I would be nowhere without my offensiveness. Would you steal my identity from me?"

He gives her his best mournful puppy dog eyes.

Trying not to laugh.

[fairy_fingers]

She looks terribly shocked - horrified, even. "-- Monsieur, please, those words are good for taverns -- what if a child heard them?"

Heee, she's thinking of motherly duties DO NOT TELL ROBB.

[thornofcamorr]

Locke grins at her. "He'd probably repeat them and grow up better for it. I learned to swear before I could walk. It's good experience." He's probably lying there. Probably. Though it's possible not. "Mm. I'm sorry. Godsfucking swear."

Hee.

THE TYPIST WILL COVER HIS EARS. BELATEDLY.

[fairy_fingers]

... "That's no way to raise a child," she says angrily. "Then what next? Drink yourself raw and hurt them, perhaps?"

This is close to home, can you tell?

[thornofcamorr]

"There's a very good reason," Locke drawls, "That I'm never having children. And that's Camorr, dahlin'. Grow up with the Thiefkeeper and you have to expect it."

He grins sideways at her. "You wouldn't last half a day."

[fairy_fingers]

She frowns at him. "I would. I would run away, and find a way to be safe." And angry, she loses her countenance, "And I did."

[thornofcamorr]

His eyebrows fly up. Not literally. Fortunately. "You're not Camorri. Never been Camorri. I would know."

[fairy_fingers]

She looks at him like he's an idiot. "Of course I'm not. I'm French. Unless there are French Camorri, which I wouldn't know. And it doesn't matter. I know who I am and what I did, and you know nothing about me."

[thornofcamorr]

"No, I don't," he says pleasantly. "Although I can infer a number of things from what you have said and your general personal appearance. I could, furthermore, use what I have learned to gain your trust, get you to think I'm an old friend of your mother's, and probably convince you that I have only your best interests in heart as I waltz off with your money."

And with that, he holds up between thumb and forefinger, a porcelain thimble.

His grin is broad and entirely sincere. "Or your ...thimble, it seems."

[fairy_fingers]

Oh no you did not.

"Give that back!" And she's very angry, now, beyond pissed off, and reaches for her thimble with one eager and demanding hand.

[thornofcamorr]

He dances lightly out of reach, grins at her. "Ought to pay attention, miss. Never know what might go missing around me, I just can't help myself."

Of course, if he didn't want her to notice, she wouldn't. He's picked a necklace off of a sleeping countess's neck before.

[fairy_fingers]

Angelique looks positively outrage. "Give that back!" She screams, and squints at him. "You -- you -- you thief."

Very imaginative, Angelique.