Abraham Grey
Adult (A)
Hufflepuff Head of House
Arithmancy Professor
Posts: 152
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Post by Abraham Grey on Feb 13, 2009 2:00:36 GMT 1
After all the drama at the shrieking shack what Abe had needed was a nice low-stress activity to fill the time. If anything remotely exciting or terrifying happened to him he was liable to have a heart attack and he was way too young for heart failure. The perfect opportunity for a completely mundane way to pass the time presented itself when Silas asked him to help do research into the extensive list of people that wanted to kill Dacian. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest that it was so long, the vampire was very undesirable company.
So Abe buried himself under a pile of books in the library, only emerging for coffee and to leave notes telling his classes to basically teach themselves, they were smart kids they’d get the hang of it. He only emerged when he was sure he had a few solid leads for Silas to follow and also some interesting details about Dacian’s past. He was sure the vampire would not be happy if he knew so much could be discovered about him in one library.
Having collected the information he needed Abe gathered together his scrawl of notes in a messy pile and headed to his office, intending to floo straight to Scores to see Silas. If he told Silas he was coming first then the man would probably insist on a private meeting and then he wouldn’t get to see the girls on the way through. Lecherous of him? Definitely, but Abe was only human and he had just spent the last day with only books for company. So sue him if he wanted to appreciate the female form.
A liberal sprinkling of green powder later and Abe was striding through the familiar setting of Scores. He only paused for long enough for one quick stare at the girl on stage, Kandi, then made his way in the direction of the office. ”Silas,” Abe banged on the door with his fist, now knowing better than to even attempt to get in, he didn’t want his fingers to match Connery’s. ”You owe me a drink…” He reconsidered. ”Make that several drinks.” [/font]
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Post by Silas Rosier on Feb 13, 2009 12:23:10 GMT 1
|| OoC || THIS is what happens when my muse builds up. Long rambling posts of nothing. ||Abe had been a right side more productive on the task of finding Vivian’s killer than Silas had been. After all, the club owner had absolutely no personal stake in the matter so instead he’d shuffled the brunt of the initial work onto Abe and instead dabbled into a personal project for the first week. Specifically, he was digging out everything that could be found on one Adrian Connery. The ex-auror had gone and made a mistake by attempting to blackmail him and Silas was determined to find something to flip the tide of power back in his favour. Adrian was, unsurprisingly, innocent as a fairy but there were at least two instances in his past which could easily be made to look incriminating. It wasn’t substantial, but it would do to ‘convince’ Adrian to foot the exorbitant bill it was going to cost to hunt down Dacian’s friends later.
Finished with that project, Silas had started by sending some owls off to a few vampire hunting organisations with inquiries about recent activity in the area. For good measure he tossed random names from Dacian’s list to see if it got a reaction. When it came to keeping an eye on the blood-sucking pests they were more reliable about it than even the Ministry. At least two were confirmed dead, some hadn’t left their respective countries in years, some were under close watch but too powerful to attack directly, while the rest had disappeared off the face of the planet or were unknowns which gave Silas the most bother. Tracking people was a tedious business and predictably the only known leads to them wanted to be financially reimbursed for their information. Well, screw it. He wasn’t the one that was going to face bankruptcy for it, Adrian was.
After crossing a few names off the register he’d more or less forgotten about continuing. There wasn’t much else to do until Abe arrived with information on Dacian’s history and a few names to start with. He’d practically slipped back into his old routine of repetitive business work and annoying Ed to relax. Ed, however, had been stretched to the limit with Dacian occupying all his time and had no time to deal with Silas as well on top of that. Eventually, out of frustration, Silas had found himself sending the man a crucifix with the dull hope his balls would finally drop and he’d go stick it in Dacian’s forehead. Much to his delight, he’d learned first-hand from the barkeeper that he’d actually gone and done just that. The mental of image of Dacian running outside and screaming like a girl with his sleeve on fire was one that would do him for a while. Money well spent.
Despite the amusing visual, the mood in his office today was rather foul. Not that his mood didn’t usually leave something be desired, but now he had a reason. On his desk was an almost painfully immaculate note from his outsourced accountant that looked as though it had been typed rather than written, each letter was so damn perfect. It arrived yesterday and bore a lot of nasty phrases like ‘missing funds’, ‘poor bookkeeping’ and ‘need to have a long discussion’. He was confident enough that he could wriggle out of whatever noose his accountant tried to throw at him, but mentally he’d already prepared himself for a war when she was due to arrive tonight. Although, the fact the message had been delivered by a freaking duck of all things hadn’t helped. Silas had almost roasted the poor bird in surprise when it skidded onto his desk and sent all his sheets flying.
At the knock on the door he scowled and was half tempted to ignore it. She couldn’t get in unless he let her anyway seeing as the door was conspicuously lacking any sort of handle. Oddly, the voice that came through was clearly not that of a woman, and in a merciful twist of fate it was none other than Professor Grey’s. Excellent. If he could run off with Abe he might be able to get out of a lengthy discussion about finance in the next few hours he did not want to have.
After jabbing his new elm wand in the direction of the door, it swung open by itself. Subconsciously fixing the cuffs of his sleeves as he went merely to give his hands something to do, Silas got up out of the chair and walked over. ”That I do. Come, walk with me,” he said crisply before leading the way back to the bar at a brisk pace for Abe to get as many drinks as he liked. The door quietly shut itself behind them. He was sick of being stuck in the office all day so the change of scenery would be a blessing. The music wasn’t too loud away from the stage so there would be no problem being heard and everyone was too drunk or distracted by the dancers to overhear regardless.
Taking the furthest barstool on the left out of the way of most of the patrons, Silas sat down and leaned against the wall, holding up two fingers to the barmaid and mouthing the word ‘usuals’. Abe was in often enough for her to remember his preferences; the girl had a rather terrifyingly sharp memory which had earned her the job. As she quickly scuttled off to fetch glasses Silas made himself comfortable and gestured at the seat next to him. ”Talk to me. What are we looking at?”
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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 Feb 13, 2009 22:50:10 GMT 1
Abe didn’t have to wait long for Silas to answer his knock, the man seemed far more crisp and in control and far less like a crazed dark wizard now that they were back in familiar surroundings. Still, Abe would never again take it for granted when Silas said he would ‘handle’ an overly grabby patron. It was probably safe to assume the reason none of them ever returned was because it was hard to walk back into Scores when their legs were broken in several places.
He flashed Silas a familiar grin anyway, shuffling his mess of papers and just about managing not to drop any of them as he turned to follow the club owner back to the bar. It seemed Silas was going to hold good on his promise of drinks, the evening was looking up, especially when they settled at the bar, still in sight of the dancing girls. Abe contentedly followed Silas’s lead, sitting on one of the barstools and dropping the notes he’d been carrying carelessly onto wooden surface of the bar. It wasn’t like they could get any more crumpled.
Abe’s gaze strayed to the stage. Had Silas realised what a distraction sitting in the club would most likely cause he might have kept the meeting in his office. Too late to change his mind now. Sucker. Days on end in the draughty Hogwarts library made practically naked girls all the more appealing. He winced slightly. Surely it wasn’t humanly possible to bend that way? Abe shook his head at least attempting to focus on his reason for seeing Silas.
”Right,” He pushed aside a couple of sheets of parchment, looking for one page in particular. Picking one up he glanced at it, puzzled for a moment, then discarded it too. Had he really written on the back of somebody’s Arithmancy essay? Oops. Oh well, they were getting a T anyway. ”Here we go!” Abe came up triumphant, waving a seemingly significant scrap of paper at Silas. ”We’ll start with the basics.”
Abe was rather proud of these discoveries. As it turned out it was pretty hard to fill in even the most basic of information about an ancient and secretive vampire. ”His name is Dacian Love, he’s over six hundred and thirty years old near as I can tell and he was born in Yorkshire.” He looked to Silas to gage his reaction. It had better bloody well be the kind of information he was looking for or Abe had lived on coffee and Fly’s crispy cakes for nothing. [/font]
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Post by Silas Rosier on Feb 14, 2009 1:18:32 GMT 1
Abe, it seemed, had plenty intention of using his eyes just as much as his voicebox tonight. Lucky Silas was there to intentionally waste time or he would have been a right side more bothered about him getting distracted so early on. There was little doubt the professor was going to walk out drunk anyway, you’d have to be a moron to miss the fact he only wanted to hold the meeting in person for the booze, so there was no harm in letting him ogle the performers either. Although he'd much prefer it if Abe was buying and tipping, Silas had to remind himself he could pay for a few drinks and deal with a few lost galleons in reimbursement for information on their toothy friend.
Abe did eventually get to the matter at hand and at the mention of Dacian’s last name Silas had to choke back laughter. He couldn’t stop his face splitting into an excited grin at any rate. Dacian Love, huh? No wonder he’d dropped the surname, it sounded like a bad pickup line. Oh yes, there would be much fun to be had with that. He was sure the vampire wouldn’t take appreciation to constantly being called Love and Silas was confident enough in his masculinity to go that far to deliberately embarrass him. The only problem was the imminent risk of getting his head snapped off, but that argument with the vampire as to how easy he could be killed had already been quarrelled over and Silas had come out on top. Dacian could do nothing.
”Yeah, that’ll give us a place to start,” Silas agreed, still smirking as the drinks arrived; Fire Whiskey for Abe and something unsettlingly black in colour for himself that was certainly not coke. ”Though with being six hundred years old that fucking list makes sense now. What doesn’t is how he’s still walking. You'd think one of them would have got him by now,” he added, taking a large swig from the drink for the sole purpose of getting some of the ice in his mouth to chew on. Not exactly a healthy habit, but one he’d had for a number of years. ”What else have you found that could be useful?” he asked, hoping for something juicy that could be utilized against the vampire later even though the whole point was meant to be tracking down Vivian’s attacker.
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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 Feb 14, 2009 12:44:08 GMT 1
All the research was made completely worth it by watching Silas’s reaction to Dacian’s surname. He’d been particularly pleased with that discovery. It couldn’t have sounded more like a pimp name if Dacian had tried. It was better, even, than some of the stripper names of the girls at Scores. That said Abe would be making a point of being out of the room, and hopefully the country, when Silas decided to tease the vampire about it. He didn’t want his nose broken. He’d already spent several paranoid hours in front of the mirror trying to decide if it was any wonkier than before.
He only nodded distractedly as Silas spoke, busy clearing a space on the bar between his notes for the clearly more important drinks. Abe flashed a smile of thanks at the bartender’s boobs. Oh how he loved Scores, she had a cracking pair, Silas had impeccable taste. Firewhiskey safely in hand he could concentrate on what Silas was saying to him. ”It was a pretty extensive list.” He agreed, sipping his drink and smiling with satisfaction as it burned its way down.
”So I’ve really only been able to narrow it down a little.” Abe explained, swilling his drink in the bottom of the tumbler, an unconscious habit he’d picked up from spending far too much time in bars. He knew Silas didn’t expect him to have discovered everything there was to know about the vampire, but scholarly pride made him want to at least know the most. ”Dacian went to war, the battle of Agincourt to be exact, and I can only assume he became a vampire around that time as all record of his human life ends there.”
Now came the hard part. Vampires didn’t exactly publicly announce their activities, especially not to wizards who would try to stake them and lop their heads off then burn the remains. ”There are records of a vampire that fits Dacian’s description causing considerable trouble in England several years later.” Abe handed Silas a sheet of paper, this one obviously torn from a library book with annotations scribbled in the margins. Again: Oops.
It was a report from the journal of a vampire obsessed wizard by the name of David Blant, who was actually as bad at hunting vampires as he was dedicated to doing it. He hadn’t even discovered Dacian’s name and he’d stalked the vampire for years. Abe had managed to find it out in less than a week. Yeah, he totally kicked vampire hunter’s arse. [/font]
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Post by Silas Rosier on Feb 14, 2009 15:31:15 GMT 1
Battle of Agin-what? Silas’s knowledge of wizarding history was deplorable, let alone on whatever crap a group of angry muggles did six hundred years ago. It came as no surprise when the name didn’t even ring a bell. It had an important-sounding sort if vibe to it as though it was something he ought to recognise, but that was really it. Mental note: Find out what that battle was and who was in it. No, wait. Get someone else to find out where it was and who was in it, then tip them later. He didn’t have the time or patience to track down Dacian’s past himself, let alone useless trivia from old muggle history books.
As he accepted the paper from Abe he found himself frowning in confusion as he noticed he was staring at what looked to be a page out of a textbook. Ah, the margins, right. Somehow he doubted the school would be very impressed at Abe’s apparent wanton vandalism, but then, who cared? That was the schools problem. Giving Abe a moment to be as lecherous as he wanted or to get his notes in order, whichever, he took a moment to skim the paper.
What he was looking at was a reprinted journal. Dacian was connected to a variety of kills, yadda yadda, which was to be expected. What was interesting was the quick descriptions and dates of deaths of the victims. David Blant was convinced Dacian had been trotting around killing things at leisure as none of them had been eaten, but the sheer range in victims and dates of death were contradictory to that theory. Firstly they were mostly vampires, strangers, with no connections between any of them aside from some degree of influence and wealth and the dates between the attacks varied too wildly. It was not the pattern of any serial murderer Silas had ever known or heard about. He had enough firsthand knowledge of crime to more or less guess what had gone down. ”He was contract killing. That’s interesting,” Silas voiced aloud, taking another mouthful of the black alcohol. ”How does this connect with the names we got though? Anyone in particular?”
There was only a slim chance that the girls (he’d forgotten her name already) killer could be found there because it had happened so long ago, but at least it was a start. Who knew how much time those crazy oversized parasites held grudges for? Hopefully this was one lead of several for the night or he’d be tempted to make Abe pay for the booze in revenge for bringing him so little to work with. He was half excited for and half dreading the thought of what Abe might have found on some of the lists more unusual names: specifically a Keeko the Pygmy, Mister Halfpint, Shorty McShort and a fellow called Stumpy. Had Dacian gone and run afoul of the seven dwarves or something? Either way it promised to be a comedic bit of back-story if it was going to be up for discussion.
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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 Feb 15, 2009 12:03:08 GMT 1
Abe watched Silas skim over the notes he’d written, then turned his attention back to his drink, taking a hearty swig before holding the glass up to peer at the amber liquid. This was the good stuff, he could tell by the colour, taste and smell. You didn’t grow up in a traditional pureblood family without learning how to recognise good alcohol when it was put in front of you. Not like the cheap firewhiskey Ed sold at his pub, then again drinks were cheaper there and when Abe was drinking at The Hog it was definitely quantity over quality that he wanted.
”Contract killing?” He looked up, slightly confused. ”Yes, that’s exactly what I thought.” Abe lied quickly, hiding his pout behind another sip of his drink. In truth while he’d realised the pattern of kills hadn’t exactly matched a typical massacre he’d had no idea what Dacian had been doing. Surprising Abe didn’t have much experience with contract killing, so it hadn’t sprung to mind. It wasn’t fair though, Silas didn’t get to have the interesting breakthroughs, that was his job!
”It wasn’t that easy,” He grumbled, setting his drink down and finding the copy of the list Silas had sent him. It was now covered in writing, so much so that it was hard to tell where the names were actually written on the page. ”Blant wasn’t the most accomplished of vampire hunters, he rarely learned the names of his targets. So I’ve been working off descriptions alone.” This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. Silas wasn’t even so much as complimenting his amazing discoveries, it was quite damaging to a man’s ego.
Good thing he had booze and scantily clad ladies to make up for the disappointment. There was nothing a glass of firewhiskey and boobs couldn’t fix. ”The Lambert family appear to be involved around that time.” Abe said, squinting at his notes, his writing was tiny in order to fit everything into the confined space of the page. ”As well as a man called John who might or might not be this Johnathan Graves.”
Abe gave up trying to read what he’d written and handed the page to Silas. He could try and decipher the messy scrawl. Besides the page would be useful, he’d crossed out a few names along the way. ”I think the ministry records said that Gustave Lambert was living in a cave in Norway. This was a good fifty years ago, but somebody set fire to him and he’s horribly scarred, so I don’t think he’s involved. No idea where the other Lamberts have got to. That’s your job.” [/font]
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Post by Silas Rosier on Feb 15, 2009 15:08:01 GMT 1
The new page was somehow worse than the other one. Good God, that was a teachers handwriting? You’d think they of all people should have legibility in the job description. Although, considering most doctors, maybe it was the case the more important it was for your handwriting to be readable the more likely you were to be hired if you could somehow make your s look like a t. Never matter, there had to be some charm somewhere for stubborn handwriting but Silas had expected more from a pureblood.
”Oh yes, owling more sociopaths. That’ll be fun,” Silas said with a wry smile when Abe finished talking. ”Had one guy, Frank Bruce, who’s living in Pendinas in Wales now or something, send me a beautiful letter telling me in eight hundred and seventy four words step-by-step instructions on exactly how he was going to relieve me of my spleen I brought up the name ‘Dacian’ again.” That was also precisely why Silas hadn’t signed his name, used his own owl or left any other means of identification on outdoing correspondences since the get go. He may be stubborn, but he’d taken up on Dacian’s hint that care needed to be taken with those on the list and so far that had ended up being exceptionally good advice. ”Brightened my day, that.” There was nothing like the threat of involuntary organ donation cheer you up in the morning, or maybe Silas just had a particularly sick sense of humour.
Abe had done his job admirably; the information was all well and good, just a little bit dated. It was lucky Silas couldn’t read minds or he’d wonder what in the hell Abe was sulking about. Lack of compliments indeed. It wasn’t every day he let someone guzzle his highest quality alcohol without even demanding a knut. Abe was drinking his gratitude right there and he wasn’t getting another thanks unless he pulled up something more concrete. Most of Abes notations on the list, or what could be deciphered anyway, seemed ancient. That was Dacian’s fault really; trust him to throw in as many pointless names in as possible to make things harder.
”This stuff here’s a start anyway. I’ll get working on tracking the Lambert’s when we’re done. Family groups always have the biggest chips on their shoulders so they’re a good bet. Have you located anything more recent since then though? Anyone that’s moved into the area or flown in here from overseas lately, any vamps on the list that are locals here or something? Best to start close to home and work outwards.”
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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 Feb 18, 2009 19:48:21 GMT 1
Abe shot Silas a horrified look, feeling the need to take a deep swig from his glass, finishing the remainder of his drink in one go as the club owner described his less than pleasant correspondence with one of the people on Dacian’s list of enemies. Sure they were enemies, but Abe hadn’t believed it possible for one person to piss off everybody they met to the point of bloody violence. Then he remembered that Dacian really was a damn irksome fellow and decided that if one person could manage it, it would be the vampire.
”Are sure its wise to interact with these people?” He asked, worrying more about his own spleen than Silas’s. Abe was sure Connery had mentioned something about Dacian’s warning not to attempt to contact any of the people on the list. Not that he’d been talking to the Gryffindor Head of House much in recent weeks, Connery had been wallowing in misplaced self-blame and for once Abe wasn’t using it as an opportunity to make the man even more miserable. Not out of any solidarity, just because he’d been too busy in the library.
”We don’t want to draw them here.” Abe said with a small frown. It wasn’t an entirely selfish notion, just mostly. ”One student has already died, we don’t want to lose any more.” Abe glanced at his empty tumbler forlornly, watching a ring of perspiration drip down the side of the glass to soak into whatever piece of parchment he’d left under it. He gave a meaningful cough, lifting the glass to rattle the ice in the bottom in a completely unsubtle manoeuvre. It was clear more booze would be required before he’d provide any more information.
Of course Silas could always kick him out and steal his notes, all the information was there, but that would also mean deciphering his handwriting. In reality the scrawled mess was just to help him commit the facts to memory, sometimes when Abe looked at what he’d written he got the feeling he’d been writing in a foreign language. A start? What did Silas think, that gathering this information had been easy. Abe gave a visible huff.
”Well I was trying to provide the information in some kind of timeline.” Abe said scathingly, clearly Silas was too unscholarly to understand the beauty of properly ordered information. Then again looking at the spread of parchment on the bar he was hardly organised. The blissful afternoon he’d spent with the magical highlighters had been fun though. Abe leaned over and tapped the list of names in Silas’s hand with his wand and several of the names began to glow a fluorescent yellow.
Okay ow! Perhaps he’d gotten a bit trigger happy with the highlighter there. When Abe blinked he could still see yellow blocks of colour dancing across his eyelids. ”Those names are the most likely candidates as far as I could discover.” He’d been a little sleep deprived when he made his shortlist though, which Abe realised when he noticed he’d left Cain Heath on the list. Why had he been significant again? Oh yes, he was a dreadful American. And a psychopath of course, but so was everybody Dacian had listed as far as Abe could tell. Being American was clearly worse in his book. [/font]
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Post by Silas Rosier on Feb 20, 2009 8:14:10 GMT 1
Abe’s reaction was more than a little agitating. The look of horror, drink-sculling and tone of voice was enough. He couldn’t tell if Abe was genuinely concerned about others or just for himself, but either way he registered it as cowardice and that was not a trait Silas held any sympathy for. Then again, he would also call a rape victim a coward for not firing a killing curse into her attackers forehead and moving on with her life, so he was definitely not the best judge in that regard. In fact it was probably worse if he was worried about the kids; it was a weakness that left vulnerability. Silas resisted the urge to mutter something and nursed his drink some more. At the present time it was much more beneficial to have Abe on his side than against, even if reading books seemed to be the man’s only skill. He was finding himself increasingly short on allies lately, which came as no surprise.
”Don’t worry about the ‘bad guys’; I know how to cover myself,” he reassured, ”Anonymity, anti-tracking charms on the owls, the works.” Honestly? He didn’t find anyone on the list that frightening. When a man like Dacian told a person they wanted dead to not contact someone because they might get hurt it wasn’t due to concern for their well-being. Dacian was covering himself or hiding something, he was sure of it. The vampire had a lot more reason to be scared than he did, if they ever came to town they’d be a lot more preoccupied with finding him than worrying about who tipped them off.
As Abe signalled for a drink the bartender looked up for confirmation. Silas merely nodded at her, now finding himself wondering again exactly what the hell Abe was drinking. Drinks and food were the clubs main source of income, and the Fire Whiskey ranged from one to ninety galleons for a full bottle, so Abe was either robbing him of mere pocket change or of more than he wanted to think about. He had probably gotten out of the cover charge too, Silas realised, since he had mentioned to the doorwoman that Abe may be showing up in the next few days. It wasn’t something he should be focusing so much on, he knew, but Silas couldn’t help being twitchy about it. He liked his money. Forcing it out of mind he opted to concentrate on just staying one drink behind Grey. Possibly two. Absinthe was one of the few drinks that could boast being nearly twice as strong as even a heftily priced Whiskey. Make that three drinks behind then. He didn’t like giving people the upper hand, even if they were, like Abe, about as dangerous as cherry tomatoes.
Grey didn’t seem enthused about his insistence to cut to the chase and Silas found himself dropping a ”Sorry,” before the professor continued. What was the point in discussing six hundred years passed except as a last resort anyway? When someone wanted someone dead they tended to wait a lot less than six hundred years to get it done. He had to remind himself that wasting time was kind of the point so he might as well just shut up and listen.
What was he doing with that wan- Oh Jesus Christ with the highlighters! What the heck had Abe done? Just scribbled the same spots over and over until the damn sheet just became a replacement lighting charm? Silas found himself having to squint just to shut the glare out, let alone read it. The parchment was a lost cause now, he could switch off the highlighter but he needed it on to see what names Abe had selected. If he planned on prolonged exposure to that list he was going to have to perform an anti-glare charm over his eyes to look at it without having his retina combust. Abe must have a fetish for shiny things. ”Henry Mannering was killed two years ago by one of the vampire hunting groups I contacted. Other than that it’s all fine. Are you trying to blind me with this thing, by the way?” he asked, pulling his own wand out and switching off the magical highlights.
They had gotten to the point of the meeting a little earlier than had been the intention. Silas checked his watch and wasn’t impressed with how little time had gone by. That would teach him to be his normal impatient self. Even if he left Abe was still going to be guzzling free drinks of unknown cost so it may just be easier just to stay there and let the man fulfil his desire to rattle on. ”Sorry for interrupting. Where were we on your timeline?”
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