Date: 18 June, 2000
Location: Padma's flat on Shelton Street to a Muggle club.
Time: 17:00 until Merlin knows when.
Character(s) Involved: Padma Patil, Myron Wagtail, and Terry Boot
Rating: PG-13. (May be changed, we'll see!)
Incomplete
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He couldn't help but think that this whole thing was a horrible, horrible idea. --Who 'danced'? What was 'dancing'? An excuse to bump bodies and spread disease, was what. )
Not that he didn't know this already.
But DuPont's tactel shirt's heavenly shining did not have the necessary effect on the doorman, who blocked the entrance to the lifts with a rather dispassionate face. Of course, he was an old man, what did he understand in the club culture? A minuscule of things!
"You don't understand, my good man, I'm here to escort Padma, that beautiful and smart Indian girl that needs loosening up," he explained, barely containing his impatience. Honestly, sometimes he really could understand all those misanthropic sentiments of some of his fellows. Especially in cases such as this.
"Can I go and fetch her and her friend now?" Myron vogued questioningly. "Hello-o, old man, can I now? We have to be running, seriously."
How strange - why was the old man staring at him like that and all silent too? Myron pouted and without another second's regard, bent down and pecked a kiss on the doorman's cheek, sending him into a temporary stupor - just enough to jump past him and into the lifts. He was already on his way to the upper levels, when he heard the doorman come into senses and call after him with the number of Padma's flat and the floor it was located on.
"Knockie, knockie, knock-knock-knock!" Myron repeated after his peculiar knocking style, waiting on the door to open, so he could grab the two newest 'friends' of his and disapparate into the club with them.
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Leaning slightly on the open door, Padma smirked, "Two boys in one night. The doorman probably thinks I'm some kind of freak. Come on in, Myron. Terry's already here, and we're ready to go. Well, ready as we'll ever be."
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Then, realising he'd gone rigid, Terry lifted a hand to rub at the place Padma kissed, certain he could still feel lipstick, but kept his eyes fixed on --Myron.
This was the man behind the journal, then. This was the man who envied the lives of pink bunnies.
Huh.
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"The poor doorman," he continued, proceeding into the room and settling himself in the larger of armchairs, hoping his height would fit in. "I pecked him on the way, you know," he added, raising his hands to check out his nails (clean or dirty?). "He was being difficult, on purpose as I'm sure, so I had to confound him someway."
All of this time, Myron was addressing Padma, in a way, because he wasn't introduced to Terry officially yet - but hey, when had he bothered about traditions and etiquette. Turning toward where Terry was located, Myron studied him for a minute silently, not a muscle twitching on his face. Being creepy wasn't really his style and liking, however, so in a few he let out a light laughter, and taking down his sunglasses, Myron nodded.
"Hello there, you must be Terry - and I'm Myron. Nice outfit, by the way, glad you listened to my advice." As if remembering something, Myron turned toward where Padma stood, eyes widened-- "And oh gods, your unearthly beauty in that enviable jacket made me forget that I had to actually let you know how awesome you look like that, darling - but I'm back to my senses - I love your outfit, Padma!"
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Words failed him- he never was a conversationalist.
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"You're kidding... You probably scared him to death," Padma said, giggling a bit to herself. "But that's all right. He's told me several times that he thinks my guests are a bit 'off'. I guess I'll be hearing it again tomorrow."
Fluffing her hair at the compliment, Padma tried her best to ignore the color suffusing her cheeks, "This old thing?" That she'd just whipped up about an hour before. "It's nothing."
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"Ahh," he sighed demonstratively, "Why is it that there aren't that many beauties like you two, hm?" Myron's smile widened even farther, as he briefly contemplated the possibility of showering the two youngsters with his compliments, which could get more and more uneasy to take - although always very true. It was a special talent - saying the truth in compliments. Easy for Myron, as he had an eye for natural gifts and winning features of almost all of his interlocutors.
"Anyway - are you folks ready?" he clapped his hands. Judging by the way they looked, they were. However, they still could have little unfinished businesses to take care, so he waited. There was a very small smirk, friendly in its nature, as he thought on how awesome the night was going to be.
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Terry looked at him a moment, contemplating something, before dropping his eyes to the man's shoes. His arm looped through Padma's kept him next to her- otherwise, he would have gone back to the couch- and probably, propped a pillow on his lap to pass the time- to keep his eyes on something other than part of the human anatomy. "Ready?" He turned his head slightly towards Padma's- his eyes still on the footwear. "I am."
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"I am not exactly sure as to the nature of this house, so I do not suppose using Apparition in front of your poor doorman would make him feel better about the earlier pecking," he continued, smiling slightly, as he towered above them. "What do you think we should do? Take the cab or 'whoosh' into the nearest dark corner near the club I'm taking you two?" he inquired curiously. Both ways were acceptable, although he doubted Terry would have liked riding the cab, which was not exactly the paragon of cleanness.
"At any rate - on to Fabric!"
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His eyes made their way hurriedly up to Myron's as his eyebrows contracted. "-Ah, cabs are- so many people sit there in a given day. You never know- what might be living there."
Terry bit his bottom lip a moment and looked over at Padma. "Do you have anti-Apparation Wards up?"
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"Here we are then," he said, releasing the two, as his hand instantly flew up to adjust his ruffled hair. Ruffled even more now, Myron looked his most gorgeous self (in his opinion), and with an excited grin he pointed toward the corner of the building that was lit up with an amalgamation of variously coloured lights.
"Shall we?"
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He watched distractedly as Myron 'fixed' his hair, then turned to see where the man was pointing to.
At least it looked nice- all the colours. And a heavy bass could be felt through the concrete, even from as far off as they were. Terry glanced to Padma and adjusted his glasses. "What's this place called again?"
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