RP: Domus Dulcis Domus
Date: 9 June, 2005
Characters: Lucius Malfoy
Location: 6B, Copper Towers
Status: Private
Summary: Lucius returns to Stoatshead Hill after several months away and is given to a bit of introspection.
Completion: Complete
Flat 6B, Copper Towers, was just as he remembered it. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to have happened in the months he was away--some kind of stealth redecorating, perhaps?--but nothing had. It was, compared to the Manor, still cramped and unappealing.
It was also his home now--represented almost the entirety of what he had, in fact--so he'd figured he best start adjusting. A Malfoy's place was on top, true, but no-one ever made the perilous ascent to social greatness by whingeing and sulking about like a child.
In the months he'd been away from Stoatshead Hill, he had managed to salvage some minor pieces from the ruined great houses that had once been the centre of his social circle and the Wizarding World. Contacting men who knew men who had friends who knew chappies who were interested in such items, he had managed to negotiate at least moderate returns on his investment of time and effort. His reputation in the field of Wizarding objects d'art had, thankfully, survived the war and Azkaban.
Home. It was an interesting concept, but inescapable. His wife and son were here in Stoatshead Hill, even if the wife probably wouldn't be for too much longer and the son was (naturally, given the circumstances) distant and wary of his father. Well, that was something to work on.
Work. His travels and trading had afforded him a margin of several months before he'd have to be milking cows--shudder--to make ends meet, but it did bear some thinking about. Malfoys weren't skilled in anything, well, particularly useful. They just were, and the fawning populace valued the contribution of one's mere existence. Stoatshead Hill probably didn't need his expertise in social etiquette or services as an upmarket gigolo, and certainly no-one was going to appreciate his simply being enough to sustain him. There was an idea forming, to be sure, but not fully formed. It would require some reconnaissance.
But for now, well, no-one ever insinuated themselves back into the bosom of their community by sitting around in their flat and moaning about how hard done by they were.
A Malfoy needed to see and be seen, and that was just what he was going to do.
Characters: Lucius Malfoy
Location: 6B, Copper Towers
Status: Private
Summary: Lucius returns to Stoatshead Hill after several months away and is given to a bit of introspection.
Completion: Complete
Flat 6B, Copper Towers, was just as he remembered it. He wasn't sure what he'd expected to have happened in the months he was away--some kind of stealth redecorating, perhaps?--but nothing had. It was, compared to the Manor, still cramped and unappealing.
It was also his home now--represented almost the entirety of what he had, in fact--so he'd figured he best start adjusting. A Malfoy's place was on top, true, but no-one ever made the perilous ascent to social greatness by whingeing and sulking about like a child.
In the months he'd been away from Stoatshead Hill, he had managed to salvage some minor pieces from the ruined great houses that had once been the centre of his social circle and the Wizarding World. Contacting men who knew men who had friends who knew chappies who were interested in such items, he had managed to negotiate at least moderate returns on his investment of time and effort. His reputation in the field of Wizarding objects d'art had, thankfully, survived the war and Azkaban.
Home. It was an interesting concept, but inescapable. His wife and son were here in Stoatshead Hill, even if the wife probably wouldn't be for too much longer and the son was (naturally, given the circumstances) distant and wary of his father. Well, that was something to work on.
Work. His travels and trading had afforded him a margin of several months before he'd have to be milking cows--shudder--to make ends meet, but it did bear some thinking about. Malfoys weren't skilled in anything, well, particularly useful. They just were, and the fawning populace valued the contribution of one's mere existence. Stoatshead Hill probably didn't need his expertise in social etiquette or services as an upmarket gigolo, and certainly no-one was going to appreciate his simply being enough to sustain him. There was an idea forming, to be sure, but not fully formed. It would require some reconnaissance.
But for now, well, no-one ever insinuated themselves back into the bosom of their community by sitting around in their flat and moaning about how hard done by they were.
A Malfoy needed to see and be seen, and that was just what he was going to do.