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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Sept 12, 2009 17:22:48 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]It seemed her coat was more difficult to put on the angrier she was. Rather than break the seams, she draped it over the crook of her arm. She could not believe anything Abraham had to say. Any defence would be poor, and when he had no defence, the argument would turn to insults.
The touch of his hand on her elbow made her jerk it away and she wheeled. “Don’t you touch me, or I’ll show you just how uncivil I can be.” She fairly snarled, pushing him back with a hand on his chest. “You pretend to be innocent but it won’t work on me! I might have fallen for it ten years ago, but I’ve changed thanks to the lessons you taught me.” Poking a finger in his chest, she leaned closer. “Just a kiss? Don’t think I’ll believe that one either. It’s never just a kiss with you.” The news that he apparently hadn’t slept with Lilith was somewhat of a relief, though in her current state she couldn’t put any trust in the denial.
“Why don’t you explain it to me then, Abraham? Tell me why you’re molesting teenage girls in a strip club and paying for illegal services in the very same place? Can’t find anyone willing? Have to prey on the young or get out your wallet for something a bit more substantial?” Her lip curled in disgust. “Explain that to me, Abraham.” |
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Sept 12, 2009 18:36:36 GMT 1
It was hardly a shove, but Abe still stepped back at the pressure of her palm on his chest, letting his hand drop from her arm as though he’d been handling hot coals. Jacaranda was a very capable witch, not to mention he heels looked as though they could do a fair bit of damage should she decide to kick him in the shins (or higher). Still, he wasn’t going to her storm off again and end up straight back in the arms (or bed, or stationary cupboard) of another man. Not this time, so he tried to position himself between her and the door even as she poked an accusing finger into his chest.
”I am innocent!” He protested, frowning as he resisted the urge to grab her wrist and halt the barrage of vicious prods. ”As innocent as I need to be, why should it matter to you whose company I keep?” Abe was finding it increasingly difficult to just explain himself instead of getting angry, he couldn’t help it, she was just so infuriating! And then she had the gall to blame him for the mess that had been their lives ten years ago. ”I’m not taking the blame for your dysfunction either, you were a man-eater long before I met you.”
In all honesty, while he’d pretty much begged for a chance to explain he didn’t really have an answer ready for her. So he just stood there gawping for a moment or two. Not that it seemed to really matter as was pretty much using the question as a segway into more spiteful accusations. ”I was not preying on her! She sought me out and I was only at the club looking for you.” He said, not sure if that admission would help or only make things worse. ”I would never have let things go as far as they did if I’d known she was so young! And the arrangement made by Silas was perfectly legal.” Abe huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in attempt to stop her from pointing the finger both literally and figuratively any more.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Sept 12, 2009 23:07:47 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Abe stepping in front of her made her move back slightly and her hand drop. The scenario reminded her of Silas, and being cornered by him was not a sensation she enjoyed recently. Her gaze dropped for a moment before she collected herself. What did she care if Abe was a deviant? It wasn’t as if they were good friends or even friends at all. Or at least that’s what she thought.
There was something left of her old self that clung to the idea that Abe was a friend, but the reformed part of her mind stoutly ignored it. “I don’t care.” She said, believing her own lie. There was a slight pause as she mustered a reason to interfere. “But as a leading mind in a difficult profession, you should be respected by the community!” There, that sounded feasible, didn’t it? “I’m only here to stop you from making a fool of yourself for the sake of arithmancy. I don’t care about you.”
She took another step back, eyes downcast now as she fiddled with her coat to put it on. As she was shrugging it up onto her shoulders, she glanced back to his face, her own expression impassive. It seemed being angry only made him think she cared, so rather than give him that false hope, she tried to maintain a neutral stance. It was difficult when she was brimming with the urge to slap him and drive a pointed heel though his foot.
“Don’t feed me lies, Abraham. You were at Scores for the drink and the peep show. You’re the responsible adult; you shouldn’t have let it go anywhere at all, even if she did drop into your lap.” He was trying to make it sound like Silas had a hand in his desire for prostitutes, and her jaw worked with the barely contained rage. “The fact that you can even justify paying for sex with that ‘it’s legal’ clearly proves my point.” She moved to push past him, pausing at his shoulder. “You disgust me.” She said in a low voice, almost spitting the words. |
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Sept 15, 2009 20:26:50 GMT 1
Whatever it was that kept drawing Jacaranda and Abraham together couldn’t possibly be called friendship. Friends enjoyed each other’s company, helped each other out of a jam and let it slide when one of them did something incredibly stupid. With all their spiteful arguments and snapping accusations they were about as far from friends as two people could get. And yet some kind of sick sado-masochistic streak seemed to bring them back together over and over to hash out variations of the same arguments.
Abe scoffed at Jac’s response, finding it about as convincing as his own weak defence had been. ”I am respected by the community.” He pointed out a little pompously. ”The people who read my work have about as much interest in my personal life as Driscoll does in celibacy.” Abe wasn’t even exaggerating that much, the stuffy old men with their dusty old books were only interested so long as he kept providing material for them to fervently discuss while drinking copious amounts of port. Even his publisher called him Andy on occasion, not that he was ever going to tell Jac that.
Somehow her quiet cutting anger, bordering on disgusted indifference was worse than being pelted with an entire chess set of pieces. At least her rage had given him the impression she cared. ”I’m not going to lie about enjoying the décor at Scores.” He said, deciding that honesty (or close to it) was a good policy if he wanted to survive the remainder of the confrontation without getting hexed. ”But contrary to what you seem to believe Scores is not my first choice for drinks, I was quite happy drinking at The Hog until the whole vampire issue arose.”
He blinked at her last remark, wondering how even though he was expecting her derision it still seemed to sting. Abe wasn’t going to let it get to him, though, nor was he going to let her elbow her way out of the room without putting up a protest. Or, you know, at least following her. ”I’m sorry.” He apologised, voice taking on a slight whine. ”But Silas suggested it and I didn’t see the harm. I didn’t want to offend you.”
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Sept 15, 2009 23:56:14 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Abraham was referencing that horrible Driscoll character a lot – Jac wondered if he’d sunk that low. She hoped not. She would have to pretend she’d ever even know Abraham let alone had a relationship with him. That meant she’d have to avoid him, and she did love tormenting him.
She wrinkled her nose at the mention of Score’s furnishings, but her disapproval of the stripper’s profession was short lived and she paled at the word ‘vampire’. Just the night before she had been bitten by a vampire in what she assumed was her safe workplace. For reasons still unknown, she was alive, but the very mention of the fanged fiends made her heart race and stomach plummet.
She pushed past Abraham and through the door, neglecting to slam it behind her or even lock it from the outside in her hate to leave. She breezed down the corridor, heels regularly clacking on the stone floor, eyes resolutely forward. Dark was already falling and she wanted to be in the comfort of her own home (or Silas’) before the sun dipped below the horizon. |
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Sept 17, 2009 21:05:10 GMT 1
When Jacaranda swept past without another word Abe’s face dropped from annoyed to worried in a heartbeat. He’d have to have been blind to miss the colour draining out of her cheeks and it wasn’t like her at all to miss a chance to snap back or lord it over him for cracking and apologising first (which he always did). The fact that she didn’t lock him into his own office, as she’d done on a previous occasion, was another indication that something was amiss. Last time he’d been forced to sleep in there, until he realised he could floo to Tristram’s office and use it until Adrian took pity on the poor man and unlocked the door.
”Jacaranda?” He called after her, using his considerably longer stride to close the head start she’d managed to get in the few seconds he’d been frozen on the spot. ”What’s wrong?” He asked, hurrying into a half-jog to try and get ahead of her and huffing as he narrowly avoided bowling over a first year Ravenclaw. ”I mean... apart from me. I was wrong, I should never have kissed Lilith or accepted Silas’s birthday gift.” Abe said, even though he’d already apologised. He didn’t want her to leave the castle not talking to him, it cost him a small fortune in bouquets and she only found creative ways to destroy them.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Sept 23, 2009 8:55:00 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Her hands were trembling even before Abraham caught up, and she put them deep in the pockets of her coat to hide them. He asked her what was wrong? Oh nothing, just a rational fear that she was going to be killed by nocturnal predators. She swallowed back something that might have manifested as a whimper had it made it all the way up her throat. She ignored Abe, striding as fast has her legs would allow without breaking into a run.
Insistent as ever though, Abraham managed to get in front of her regardless and she pulled up sharply. She scowled, but the effort of drawing down her brows added a slight tremor, mirrored by the tremble of the hand she shoved in the professor’s chest.
“Of course you were wrong!” Her voice was an octave higher than usual, a shrill edge to it bordering on panic. “You just never think do you?! Don’t try and blame it on Silas, I know full well who paid for it so stop trying to pretend it was a gift.” Her other hand had come to rest on his chest now and as her voice became more desperate, her hands clenched on his shirtfront. “As for Lilith, I have no idea how you can live with yourself.” How could he justify even kissing a teenager when there were perfectly good women around his own age?
But that was straying too close to the truth of the matter. “I hate you, Abraham Grey. Let me out of here, and stop coming to Scores. I’m fed up of chasing after your tabs.” |
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Oct 5, 2009 14:37:16 GMT 1
Despite the fact that Abe was trying to placate the rather irate Jacaranda, he was starting to struggle to remain suitably humbled. It didn’t seem to matter how many times he apologised, she was still acting like a crazy lady. If he didn’t value all his body parts quite a lot he’d have been tempted to suggest it was her time of the month. As it was he felt a little nervous even thinking it, she could probably tell. Women were scary like that. Abe had practically admitted to being a paedophile for her, he couldn’t see why she was being so unreasonable!
”I’m not trying to blame Silas.” He defended himself hotly, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary. Abe was quite happy to try and blame the club owner (it was his fault!) especially when he put two and two together and figured out exactly who had been lumbered with the bill. Some gift, he thought rather sulkily, and so much for discretion. He had a good mind to drink the special Absinthe he’d ordered from Switzerland for Silas, but he didn’t want to totally pickle his liver, so perhaps he’d just start slipping it into Connery’s breakfast cereal instead (it couldn’t make the muesli taste any worse). Either way he’d be damned if Silas was getting any.
”Jacaranda, please!” Abe practically begged, not entirely sure what he was asking for, but sounding quite desperate anyway. There was a cold, sinking feeling settling into his stomach as he began to realise just how serious the situation was. It was kind of hard to brush it off as a misunderstanding when somebody announced they hated you. What if this wasn’t something that expensive gifts and a lot of grovelling could fix? He didn’t even like Jac, though, did he? So it didn’t matter if she never spoke to him again. For some reason that didn’t make him feel any better and he vowed not to move from her path until he was certain he could secure forgiveness. Perhaps not in that instant, but at some point.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Oct 21, 2009 19:40:16 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]She expected him to move, or at least yield. Abraham was not the courageous type, and he usually gave her what she wanted one way or another. Today though it seemed she was not projecting her full factor of bitchy, and Abraham stood stubbornly still in front of her. She felt a flash of intimidation. He was acting more like Silas than himself, and she felt the sudden urge to bolt. She knew that Abraham was the last person that would physically hurt her, so it was a testament to her fragile state that she even felt threatened in the first place.
Jac’s hands dropped from his shirtfront, and her gaze slipped to the side. She had to get a handle on herself. She’s sparred with Abraham many a time in the past, and never had she felt so beaten. He was apologising. She should be grinding him into the ground with her heel, kicking him one last time while he was down before striding off into the sunset. Instead she was entertaining the idea of hiding from the world in his arms, or even worse, apologising to him.
Her jaw tensed, teeth grinding. No, she would not let herself unravel like this. She turned her gaze back on him, brows furrowed over narrowed eyes. “Get out of my way, Abraham.” She warned, cocking her head a few degrees to one side, leaning forward with lips parting in a dangerous and familiar smile. Her wrist flicked at her side, wand now in hand, a wordless charm commandeering his shoelaces and weaving them into an intricate knot. Her expression still lacked her usual intensity, but at least her hands had stopped trembling. “Don’t make me ask again.” |
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Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Oct 30, 2009 2:00:58 GMT 1
For some reason getting Jac on the defensive wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it should have been. Considering how often they argued, slogging out petty bicker after petty bicker, none of which Abe ever seemed to win, he should be more pleased that for once he seemed to have the upper hand. But it didn’t feel like a victory with the way Jacaranda was acting, her warning hand dropped from his chest and her gaze retreated just as quickly. It had never been his intention to intimidate her; in fact until that point he’d been under the impression that it wasn’t possible. He’d never once seen a chink in the armour and he didn’t much like that he seemed to have found one now.
And so it was quite a relief when he was the change steal over her, her resolve hardening. Jacaranda wasn’t beaten yet and Abe almost smiled when she fixed him with another furious glare. That was more like it; they were back on familiar territory. ”Not until you forgive me.” He resisted stubbornly, his confidence faltering just a little at all too familiar smile on her lips. Abe knew that grin, knew that it usually accompanied an unpleasantly enduring encounter with a table or more simply a stinging slap across the cheek. Unfortunately for him he misinterpreted the tiniest flick of her wand as warning.
”Now Jac,” Abe lifted his hands as a defensive measure, even though he was perfectly capable of defending himself with his own wand, should he choose to do so. ”Don’t do anything rash.” He didn’t much fancy trying to break whatever tricky hex she might put on him this time, and he was much too proud to go to Connery for help. He took a single step backwards, his stride being pulled abruptly short by his joined shoelaces and making him stumble through several shuffling steps as he tried, unsuccessfully, to regain his balance. In the end careening into one of the suits of armour that lined the hallways was the only thing that stopped him falling into a heap at her feet. And really, he thought as the metal plates crashed down around him, making an almighty racket, this was hardly more dignified.
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