RP: This looks familiar.

[shh_travers]

Date: February 28th, 2005
Characters: Willis Travers, Vincent Crabbe
Location: Streets of Stoatshead Hill
Status: Semi-Public (it being an open street, and all)
Summary: Willis is wandering, runs into a Mr. Crabbe. HRM.
Completion: Complete

Comments

[shh_vincent]

Vincent had been at Roma again for dinner. He refused to become dependent on the place, but cooking would be an unimitigated disaster - and when it came right down to it, he refused to try - so unfortunately that left very few options in town. He had been disappointed, not to run into anyone he had used to know, but that was what happened when left it up to chance, rather than actively seeking people out

[shh_vincent]

Vincent raised his eyebrows at the implied command, but lowered his wand as the other man stepped away. "I didn't realize my name would have such an effect," His tone was dry as he twirled the wand in between his fingers.

It would be easy enough to turn and walk away, but in a way his curiousity was peaked. He had no recollection of the other man, but he was seemingly convinced he knew Vincent. Of course with this fellow, it could easily have been a case of mistaken identity - he was obviously not quite all there. And unless he had made a trip to Bulgaria, which was doubtful, there would be no cause for him to actually recognize Vincent.

But there was something, at least something the man believed he knew about him after hearing his name, that had made him release Vincent and cease some of his hostility. Unless this man was a closet fan of his book, which seemed more than unlikely, there was no way there should be any recognition.

[shh_travers]

Willis shrugged, pulled out his flask. "Yeah, well, looks like it worked for you." Pausing only momentarily to take a drink, he shook his head. "Not the greatest of names, but it'll suit."

Least the kid'd been quick enough to take the wand away. Probably better that it'd gone that way, anyhow. Willis'd told himself to keep from giving the bastards any reason to keep an eye on him. Keep any physical arguments out of town as much as was possible, right. That's what the Muggle places were good for. This was fine, then.

The kid didn't look exactly like Crabbe... Or did he? Willis couldn't rightly recall--didn't take much stock in remembering details like that--but figured he'd have figured it sooner, otherwise. This one seemed like enough of an arse to be a Crabbe, sure, but perhaps in a different fashion.

It really was very funny.

[shh_vincent]

Giving up, Vincent shook his head, buttoning his coat again finally. It was no use trying to talk to the other man. His words made little sense, and considering he doubted it was butterbeer only in that flask, they weren't likely to improve. Even if he did know Vincent in some regard, it wasn't like it was a connection he wanted to pursue anyway.

Shaking his head, he turned to go, not bothering to offer a perfunctory farewell. Half the time the other man seemed to be blathering to himself rather than other people as it was.

[shh_travers]

He didn't like leaving it off like that. Hell, he didn't like leaving anything off, not once he'd started. Besides, this kid had something coming to him. Willis had to say something, and if the kid wandered off after, that was just fine. He had his answer, after all.

If Willis were a betting man--and he could be, just didn't have anyone to gamble against right there--he'd have said this kid was Crabbe's son. Made sense enough, anyway, and was the only thing that came immediately to mind.

"You know, boy--Mister Crabbe--I think you just might take after your father. You look like him, any rate." Maybe, maybe not. Just one of those damned funny things to say.

Willis took another drink, replacing the flask after.