(Untitled)

[stephenblack]

Stephen Black was becoming accustomed to being pulled from one place to another by way of magic. In fact, it was becoming something of a nuisance. This time was a bit more odd though. One moment he had just finished folding some of Sir Walter Pole's nightshirts and was in the process of putting them in the wardrobe when he happened to glance up and

Comments

[ironicalsmile]

It takes Strange a few moments to look up from his book, with the air of one who has been dragged away, much against his will, from something to which he desperately longs to get immediately back. Looking at Black, he does not appear to immediately recognise him. 'Really, if you people must continue to come bursting in here and interrupting my--' but then he interrupts himself. 'Half a moment, is that--Sir Walter's valet? What was the name, oh...Simon, was it? Sirius Simon Black?'

T: Whoa, bandwagon indeed. o.O Poor Stephen's going to be a bit out of sync, he may have to millstone the gentleman again--!

[thistledownking]

Typist: You had best not give him any ideas again, Mr Strange--!

[ironicalsmile]

T: Behaloed!Strange will just be reading his book, here...

[stephenblack]

"Stephen Black, sir." Stephen was wracking his brains to try and remember how and why this gentleman knew almost who he was.

[ironicalsmile]

'Yes, of course.' Strange shakes himself a little. 'Stephen. That was it.' With the rememberance of the name comes also another memory, of something very curious told him by the gentleman with the thistle-down hair -- and he begins to look at Stephen with a very different look than he first accorded him.

'Ay, Stephen Black. Well, well, well.'

[stephenblack]

"And you are, sir?"

[ironicalsmile]

'Oh! Why, I am Jonathan Strange,' says Strange, looking, by turns, surprized that he should have to give his name, embarrassed that he should think himself so very well-known, and finally, annoyed at his own embarrassment. ...his is an expressive face, clearly.

'...the magician,' he adds.

[stephenblack]

"I am afraid I do not recall having met you, sir."

[ironicalsmile]

'Oh--well--' Strange looks, now, a little disconcerted. 'Well, I have been at Sir Walter's house a number of times. I suppose I have seen you there, though you...may not recall me. My wife is Arabella Strange, a great friend of Lady Pole's.'

[stephenblack]

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, sir."

[ironicalsmile]

'There is no need for that,' Strange says, though he still looks a little put out. He has grown too used to being known everywhere he goes. 'I am not the sort of man who needs apologies when he is not famous to everyone.' ...this is, frankly, sort of a lie.

[stephenblack]

"Of course, sir."

[ironicalsmile]

'Well!' says Strange, trying to cover his embarrassment, 'if you are here, does that mean Sir Walter is, as well?'

[stephenblack]

"I should hope so, sir."

[ironicalsmile]

'How marvelous,' says Jonathan. 'At last, someone with whom I might play a decent game of billiards.'

[stephenblack]

"If I see him, I will inform him, sir."