Reflective: A Man of Letters
Title: A Man of Letters
Game date: 6th August, 1998
Time of day: Late evening
Characters featured: Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Narcissa Malfoy
Location: DMLE detention
Status: Reflective
Brief summary: Having acquired pen and paper, Lucius exerts what little influence remains to him
Completion: Completed
Warnings: None
Lucius was propped with his usual boneless grace against the narrow windowsill at the back of his cell, scribbling frantically into the last rays of the setting sun. His once immaculately kept hands now boasted ink stains to match the smudges of dirt but, for the first time since his arrest, he was neither restless nor fretful. In fact, his cold eyes were ablaze with an almost feverish intensity as his hand swooped and arced over the cheap paper, leaving a trail of sweeping, curlicued aristocratic letters in watery ink. Occasionally, his thin lips quirked into something perilously close to a smile and, from between them, emerged, in a tuneless distracted hum, an approximation of one of the jauntier airs Narcissa had been wont to sing in happier times. His feet rested amidst piles of screwed-up paper, thrown aside with the heedless abandon of one who has never known what it is to lack for anything. The letters themselves ran impressive gamut of manipulation and blackmail.
Dear Professor Hodgekiss,
I do hope your research into basilisk venom continues to progress to your satisfaction. I hope I will always be in a position to lend such a fascinating and necessary study the financial support the more squeamish academic world feels itself unable to supply.
Lucius Malfoy
***
Dear Doctor Prebble,
I can only presume recent events have contrived to disrupt work on the new wing; should circumstances prove providential you can count upon my continued and liberal support.
Lucius Malfoy
***
Dear Mr Thrume,
My current circumstances have provided me with much opportunity for reflection. I happened to find myself recalling the events of the 23rd of October. I wonder if they cross your mind also.
Lucius Malfoy
***
Dear Mr Camwell,
How delightful it was to entertain you and your lovely wife at Malfoy Manner last summer. I hope we shall have the pleasure of your company again should the climate be more congenial for parties.
Lucius Malfoy
And so the letters mounted until finally Lucius put down the rather ragged quill and began to smooth the cramps from his fingers. After a moment or two, squinting now in grim grey light and longing for something he had once thought as effortless as a lumos, he drew out a fresh sheet. He gazed, arrested and almost unseeing, at the blank page, drawing the quill absently through his hands, tattering it even further. Rather more hesitantly than before he put pen to paper, the words sliding from the quill in erratic bursts.
My dear Narcissa,
I wish I can’t I don’t It seems Perhaps
With a sudden, impatient motion he tore up the sheet and consigned it to the others on the floor. A new page, however, yielded no assistance and that too soon joined the first attempt with nothing but an ink blot to mar its surface.
The light had gone and, anyway, what was there that could be said that was safe to be intercepted? Lucius rested both elbows on the narrow ledge, dropping his chin down onto his interlocked hands as he stared out at the strip of ever-darkening sky and waited for the guard.
Game date: 6th August, 1998
Time of day: Late evening
Characters featured: Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Narcissa Malfoy
Location: DMLE detention
Status: Reflective
Brief summary: Having acquired pen and paper, Lucius exerts what little influence remains to him
Completion: Completed
Warnings: None
Lucius was propped with his usual boneless grace against the narrow windowsill at the back of his cell, scribbling frantically into the last rays of the setting sun. His once immaculately kept hands now boasted ink stains to match the smudges of dirt but, for the first time since his arrest, he was neither restless nor fretful. In fact, his cold eyes were ablaze with an almost feverish intensity as his hand swooped and arced over the cheap paper, leaving a trail of sweeping, curlicued aristocratic letters in watery ink. Occasionally, his thin lips quirked into something perilously close to a smile and, from between them, emerged, in a tuneless distracted hum, an approximation of one of the jauntier airs Narcissa had been wont to sing in happier times. His feet rested amidst piles of screwed-up paper, thrown aside with the heedless abandon of one who has never known what it is to lack for anything. The letters themselves ran impressive gamut of manipulation and blackmail.
Dear Professor Hodgekiss,
I do hope your research into basilisk venom continues to progress to your satisfaction. I hope I will always be in a position to lend such a fascinating and necessary study the financial support the more squeamish academic world feels itself unable to supply.
Lucius Malfoy
***
Dear Doctor Prebble,
I can only presume recent events have contrived to disrupt work on the new wing; should circumstances prove providential you can count upon my continued and liberal support.
Lucius Malfoy
***
Dear Mr Thrume,
My current circumstances have provided me with much opportunity for reflection. I happened to find myself recalling the events of the 23rd of October. I wonder if they cross your mind also.
Lucius Malfoy
***
Dear Mr Camwell,
How delightful it was to entertain you and your lovely wife at Malfoy Manner last summer. I hope we shall have the pleasure of your company again should the climate be more congenial for parties.
Lucius Malfoy
And so the letters mounted until finally Lucius put down the rather ragged quill and began to smooth the cramps from his fingers. After a moment or two, squinting now in grim grey light and longing for something he had once thought as effortless as a lumos, he drew out a fresh sheet. He gazed, arrested and almost unseeing, at the blank page, drawing the quill absently through his hands, tattering it even further. Rather more hesitantly than before he put pen to paper, the words sliding from the quill in erratic bursts.
My dear Narcissa,
I wish I can’t I don’t It seems Perhaps
With a sudden, impatient motion he tore up the sheet and consigned it to the others on the floor. A new page, however, yielded no assistance and that too soon joined the first attempt with nothing but an ink blot to mar its surface.
The light had gone and, anyway, what was there that could be said that was safe to be intercepted? Lucius rested both elbows on the narrow ledge, dropping his chin down onto his interlocked hands as he stared out at the strip of ever-darkening sky and waited for the guard.