Sebastian Valmont heard his step-sister's final line "Happy Hunting, Sebastian", as he closed the double doors behind him, with a loud crash
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Goodness, the laws of narrative comedy are so lax these days, aren't they?
Here comes Maia, leafing through the application with a look of distaste. 'You have read Les Liaisons dangereuses, haven't you?' She pronounces the French title with ease. 'You don't get off so lightly,' she purrs, revelling in the pun.
Sebastian had red Les Liaisons dangereuses, but there was not a chance in hell he was admitting anything. So instead he gave the punk-rock-girl a look, calm and steady.
"No, I haven't, I'm afraid. Why? Is there something important inside it that I should be aware of?"
'Only mentions of your namesake's extremely painful death,' Maia says casually, leaning on the table. 'Nothing much to worry about if you don't duel on a regular basis, however. Don't go bragging about famous literary allusions when you haven't read the damn book, okay?'
Albus Dumbledore puttered into the Sorting Room. He really did need to get his welcome-to-new-style-Hogwarts orientation pamphlet written, he reflected. These poor students kept being drawn into the Sorting Room by some magical equivalent of a tractor beam, and they didn't know the first thing about wizarding let alone talking hats.
Today he was attired in his favorite purple robes and high-heeled boots, with the matching hat. Big silver buckles adorned hat and boots. His long white beard had been neatly tied in a beard-ponytail, and his glasses' lenses had been freshly cleaned to a clear shine. He felt as snazzy as an old gay-verging-on-asexual wizard could feel.
"Hello, hello, my boy," he greeted Sebastian jovially. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Sebastian is not one to look surprised, if he can help it. So while there is a mild twitch at the words "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry", his face is mostly deadpan. Of course, it's taking a lot of self-control, because his brain is currently screaming "OMG IT'S BLAINE, EXCEPT MORE FABULOUSLY TACKY."
If Sebastian had a gaydar (which he doesn't, alas), it probably would've exploded.
"I like your outfit. It's fagtastic" He almost said fagtacular, but fagtastic is easier to pretend you didn't say fag. "Witchcraft and wizardry you say?"
Dumbledore performed a quick (and idiosyncratic) translation:
fagtastic = fag + -tastic as in fantastic fag = cigarette
therefore Sebastian thought Dumbledore's outfit was smokin'.
"The same to you, my boy, the same to you. I am Albus Dumbledore, former headmaster of this school, presently professor emeritus. We are indeed a school of witchcraft and wizardry, which means that you are a wizard!"
Hokay, this is a little too odd for Sebastian. It's obviously some sort of trick, developed by Kathryn. I mean... ALBUS? DUMBLEDORE? Dear God, what ever possessed him to keep that name.
"Well, I have been called a wizard once or twice." Along with bastard, and plenty of other insulting terms. "But I don't think we're talking about the same thing"
And Dumbledore's outfit is rather smokin'. It might need a bit more help though, just to ensure it combusts.
The applicant was slim, blonde, and well-dressed, and Francis was instantly intrigued. The therapist thing put him on his guard, though -- they'd tried to stick him with one of those before, God forbid, and he dreaded to think of the effect it might have had.
"What did she do, exactly?" he asked skeptically, brushing a speck of dust from his black cashmere sweater. "This therapist of yours."
Sebastian was intrigued. The man smelled of money, and style, and all those things that the upper crust of Manhattan absolutely adore. Obviously he was in good company.
"The Doctor? She overcharged, mostly." There was a smirk, as he remembered Marcie, and then he looked back at the gentleman.
"Sebastian Valmont" Hand out ready to shake, if the good sir chooses.
"Well, she certainly sounds like a great help," Francis replied, arching a brow. He still wasn't certain what to think: had he lied on the application? That was really neither here nor there, but if so, why was he giving it up so easily? Interesting.
Almost as interesting as the name. "Sebastian Valmont?" he echoed, a cool smile on his lips. He studied the proferred hand briefly before reaching out to shake it. "Francis Abernathy."
He's not a perfect liar, although he's very good at it. Besides, he thinks he sees a compatriot in Mister Frances Abernathy. Hoyes. Especially in that fabulous sweater.
"Abernathy? As in the Boston Abernathys? How intriguing."
"I've seldom known therapy to cure those kinds of...urges," Lady Heather purred. "At best I've known people who found ways of...channeling...those impulses."
She ran her fingers over the whip looped in the other hand. "So tell me, Monsieur Valmont, what am I to make of your claim?"
"My claim, miss? Which claim is that?" The boy was all wide-eyed innocence and contrition. At least so it would appear. Inside his brain, he's all scheming and sizing up this rather attractive lady. She's certainly not your average Manhattan Debutante, and thus might make for an interesting dalliance.
She also reminds him of Kathryn in parts.
"As for channelling, you're right. I do photography these days. Might I say that you have killer legs. I'd love to photograph them."
All soft, and innocent, and not threatening at all.
"Well, it wasn't so much sexual harassment, as... I was not a nice person. I hurt people, and I'm not proud of it. But Doctor Greenbaum says it's all behind me now."
Just like I was behind her daughter, you might say.
"Might I have the chance to take your photograph if the chance comes?"
"Hi there!" The redhead announced as a greeting. "I'm Ron!" And he was, indeed, Ron.
"So, you're going to be in a Muggle book? That's a real big deal. I saw a Muggle therapist once, too. It was sorta an accident, though. You see, I was doing a favor for some girl," Ron had a tendency to do favors for some girls, "And this was about her thinking that someone had his way with her cow, Macy. She was an Austrian farmgirl. So I found a therapist from having a Muggle friend use her computer machine to look up something called findtherapist.com. And it totally turned me out in the wrong direction, but that was alright."
Ron widened his eyes, and because he didn't want Sebastian to worry about Macy needlessly, said, "Oh, by the way, turns out the act was totally consensual. Were-Bulls, you know," he chuckled.
But, oh, Ron wanted to share. "Eloise, that was the farm girl, didn't do anything with her cow except worry about her. She thought that she had been, you know, abused, and she asked me too help out, since I was staying over in their barn. And I needed to get the heat off me, I guess, because I learned that whenever there's a crime, they first point to the stranger. And to the redheads, too, which is weird
( ... )
Comments 27
Here comes Maia, leafing through the application with a look of distaste. 'You have read Les Liaisons dangereuses, haven't you?' She pronounces the French title with ease. 'You don't get off so lightly,' she purrs, revelling in the pun.
Reply
"No, I haven't, I'm afraid. Why? Is there something important inside it that I should be aware of?"
Reply
Reply
Today he was attired in his favorite purple robes and high-heeled boots, with the matching hat. Big silver buckles adorned hat and boots. His long white beard had been neatly tied in a beard-ponytail, and his glasses' lenses had been freshly cleaned to a clear shine. He felt as snazzy as an old gay-verging-on-asexual wizard could feel.
"Hello, hello, my boy," he greeted Sebastian jovially. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Reply
If Sebastian had a gaydar (which he doesn't, alas), it probably would've exploded.
"I like your outfit. It's fagtastic" He almost said fagtacular, but fagtastic is easier to pretend you didn't say fag. "Witchcraft and wizardry you say?"
Wow, this post has degenerated
Reply
fagtastic = fag + -tastic as in fantastic
fag = cigarette
therefore Sebastian thought Dumbledore's outfit was smokin'.
"The same to you, my boy, the same to you. I am Albus Dumbledore, former headmaster of this school, presently professor emeritus. We are indeed a school of witchcraft and wizardry, which means that you are a wizard!"
:D
Reply
"Well, I have been called a wizard once or twice." Along with bastard, and plenty of other insulting terms. "But I don't think we're talking about the same thing"
And Dumbledore's outfit is rather smokin'. It might need a bit more help though, just to ensure it combusts.
Reply
"What did she do, exactly?" he asked skeptically, brushing a speck of dust from his black cashmere sweater. "This therapist of yours."
Reply
"The Doctor? She overcharged, mostly." There was a smirk, as he remembered Marcie, and then he looked back at the gentleman.
"Sebastian Valmont" Hand out ready to shake, if the good sir chooses.
Reply
Almost as interesting as the name. "Sebastian Valmont?" he echoed, a cool smile on his lips. He studied the proferred hand briefly before reaching out to shake it. "Francis Abernathy."
Reply
"Abernathy? As in the Boston Abernathys? How intriguing."
Reply
She ran her fingers over the whip looped in the other hand. "So tell me, Monsieur Valmont, what am I to make of your claim?"
Reply
She also reminds him of Kathryn in parts.
"As for channelling, you're right. I do photography these days. Might I say that you have killer legs. I'd love to photograph them."
All soft, and innocent, and not threatening at all.
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She smiled at the compliment. "Why yes you may say. Very well-behaved of you to ask. I do so like that."
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Just like I was behind her daughter, you might say.
"Might I have the chance to take your photograph if the chance comes?"
Reply
"So, you're going to be in a Muggle book? That's a real big deal. I saw a Muggle therapist once, too. It was sorta an accident, though. You see, I was doing a favor for some girl," Ron had a tendency to do favors for some girls, "And this was about her thinking that someone had his way with her cow, Macy. She was an Austrian farmgirl. So I found a therapist from having a Muggle friend use her computer machine to look up something called findtherapist.com. And it totally turned me out in the wrong direction, but that was alright."
Ron widened his eyes, and because he didn't want Sebastian to worry about Macy needlessly, said, "Oh, by the way, turns out the act was totally consensual. Were-Bulls, you know," he chuckled.
Reply
Blink.
Stare.
"Ron, you say? Why don't you just slow down, and tell me what this Farm girl did to her cow."
This sounds kinky, and Sebastian wants to know more.
He's ignoring the were-bull thing at the moment. Not wanting to know.
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