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Post by Silas Rosier on May 24, 2010 15:41:20 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/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] There was something inherently fulfilling about seeing your plans come to fruition. The one for Scores Casino had been a long time coming. Perhaps a little rushed in the final stages and could have been managed a little better, but Silas was fortunate enough to have a skilled team to stop him messing up too badly. The overall result was well and truly a success.
The opening speech had been made with all the usual jokes and pleasantries, and without further ado the night was well and truly underway. Silas had been swallowed up by the crowd before he had time to breathe; an endless cavalcade of people offering congratulations, people wanting to introduce themselves, businessmen wishing to discuss details about the renovation, and generally being bombarded with a stream of names he had no chance of remembering.
Ordinarily Silas loved social events, especially when there was an opportunity to be the centre of attention and especially when it involved people of importance. But for some reason, now he was just feeling smothered. There was only one person he wanted to see, and naturally she was nowhere to be found. He’d seen her once while addressing the crowd, looking stunning as usual, but every time he tried to slip off he ended up getting waylaid by yet another power couple who he really should recognise.
Fuck it. He needed a drink. A real one. The glasses of ridiculously expensive wines making their rounds weren’t going to cut it and Silas’s fingers were starting to rap impatiently on the stem of the champagne glass he was holding. He wasn’t even sure where he’d gotten it; someone had thrust it into his hands at some point during the evening and he’d had it ever since.
Extracting himself from a conversation with one of the Nimbus board of directors and his wife was easier said than done. Both were rich and conceited enough to assume he didn’t have anything more important to do with his time on Gala night than talk to them and Silas was frequently forced to remind himself that sarcasm was not an appropriate way to address esteemed guests. By the time he escaped he was feeling unusually harried and opted to take a shortcut to the bar by jumping onto the stage and ducking behind the band. It was either that or swim his way through a number of dancing couples and risk getting caught by another social ambush.
He never got to his destination. Just as he hopped off the other side of the podium he caught a glimpse of a white and silver dress. Silas’s face relaxed into a relieved grin and he let out a pleased breath. Thank God.
It wasn’t like Jac was easy to miss. She was dressed in a way that wrested all the attention without looking like she was consciously vying for it. And why shouldn’t she stand out? This was as much as her night as well as his. The amount of money that flew though a business manoeuvre this big was no laughing matter and Jac had done a herculean job of managing it virtually on her own. Anyone else would have needed to hire a team. Another thing to add to the already mounting list of why she was amazing.
She was looking the other way and surveying the gaming tables with satisfaction, giving Silas a chance to scull the champagne glass and leave it somewhere for one of the waitresses to pick up. Something stronger could just as easily wait. A quick check later to make sure his suit was still in order so he didn’t look like a joke standing next to her and Silas made his way forwards, making no secret of his approach.
“Hey,” he greeted cheerily, touching her arm and leaning in for a kiss on her cheek. He wasn’t exactly sure how much public affection Jac was going to allow – or hell, even what their official status was supposed to be – so he decided to err on the side of ‘let’s not piss her off’. “I think it should be illegal to look that gorgeous. Enjoying yourself so far?” he asked, standing attentively and looking genuinely pleased to see her.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on May 27, 2010 8:43:34 GMT 1
And there he was. Swooping in like a knight in shining armour to keep her from looking so alone. Okay, maybe that was a bit far, but she had noticed everybody but Silas had been avoiding her, and even Abraham had been suspiciously absent though she knew he was here somewhere. She had hexed the invitation herself. He never did have any sense of self-preservation.
Jac’s content smile broadened and she turned to Silas as he greeted her. The touch on her arm was second nature, but she realised that maybe it shouldn’t be. Not in a setting like this. There were far more many people that usually saw them together, and she and Silas had yet to ask each other what exactly their relationship was.
A question indeed. Scores’ employees were already well aware of the relationship between Silas and his accountant, but there was a marked difference in what employees knew, and what benefactors, esteemed patrons and community officials should know. It might harm Silas’s reputation to be known to be with her, or it could not. Gossip was fickle, and she was wary of destroying what she had built with social discrimination. On the other hand, it might not hurt at all. Silas was expected to have women swooning over him. Beautiful, wonderful women. Could she stand up to that pressure?
The potion made Silas bias, but Jac’s head was still on straight. Could she keep this masquerade up for the world to see? She was fooling Silas, she had successfully convinced Scores, but all these people milling and jostling in front of her? She didn’t know if she could. The touch of irony was, it was Silas who made her feel better about herself. His confidence was infectious. Standing there so vital and eager, she was having trouble resisting his good cheer. Her own had been hampered by the confusing situation she found herself in, but she answered her own question by falling into Silas’s gravity.
She leaned into his side, and pressed a grateful kiss to his jaw. “You’re not looking too bad yourself. Scores looks wonderful, you did a good job. It’s going to pay off.” Her smile was warm and as she caught his deep brown eyes, she felt a warm comfort settle her pepped up heartbeat. Despite the deception of the Amorentia, this felt good. It felt right.
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Post by Silas Rosier on May 31, 2010 8:19:00 GMT 1
Jac looked like she was pleased and Silas felt some of his tension ebb. For some reason he felt better knowing she was okay. God knew why, but he puzzled enough about his feelings when he was alone as it was. Jac just had that effect. He’d given up wondering why.
“It’s going to pay off.”
“I know it will, I’ve got you helping me.” he replied in the same matter-of-fact ‘it’s common knowledge’ fashion he always dropped compliments. He had to catch himself from slipping an arm around her waist when she returned the kiss; he was so used to physical closeness now that consciously avoiding it felt unnatural.
There was a key change in the music and Silas cast an eye over the main floor. “Besides, I need your intervention,” he added. “All these people insist on talking to me and I have no idea who they are.” By the looks of it the man from the Nimbus board had managed to find a roulette table and someone who he suspected was the owner of the Neilson Wizarding Opera House was busy trying to hit on a waitress that looked about forty years his junior.
“So,” Silas felt himself grow more serious as he neared his point. He cleared his throat, looking back towards Jac and squaring his posture subconsciously. “I guess that means I’m cordially inviting you to accompany me for the rest of the evening.”
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jun 10, 2010 19:19:33 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;]Smugness was a normal state for Jac, but Silas inspired it two-fold. Well why shouldn’t a handsome man give her compliments? She deserved them. She’d worked hard, and as a result, she was permitted to play hard tonight. Jac’s smile was radiant, and she shifted her weight so her bare shoulder rested on the expensive fabric covering his arm. Ah, nothing like the caress of luxury garments.
She looked out across the floor, and flicked her gaze to Silas with a twist of her lips. Of course Silas wouldn’t spend time to learn the names of the most important figures in the room. He probably just guessed most of them. Naturally Jacaranda had made sure she knew who the movers and shakers were by face and name. Any golddigger worth her weight in galleons canvassed a party for the richest men. It was just second nature to her now, since the richest man in the room was stood right next to her.
The accountant turned back to her employer, doing her own preening with slow blinks and a coy smile. “Well, I cordially accept your invitation.” She said smoothly, slipping her hand behind the crook of his elbow and aligning herself next to him. The pair of them together turned heads, and Jacaranda was highly conscious of it and supremely pleased.
Just the way Silas looked at her was enough. She absently touched her free hand to her purse where the evening’s vial of Amorentia hid. Yes, this was definitely going to pay off.
The combination of music and a thin veil of alcohol over her senses began to take its toll. “Shall we dance? It’s a perfect excuse for not talking to anybody… Except me, of course.” Although from the way her chocolate-brown eyes glinted as they met his, she was quite happy to give him all her attention.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jun 19, 2010 10:28:54 GMT 1
The smile quickly found its way back onto Silas’s face again. It wasn’t like he’d actually expected her to reject him – you know, like he was even capable of that – but hearing the confirmation was always nice. He bent his arm so she could align her hand easier. In a way it kind of felt like his life was back on track for the first time. Asking women out for reasons other than just appearances sake. It felt good. It felt normal, which was something Silas didn’t get to experience very often.
For a Gala day they were both organising this was going a little too well. No major disasters, no last minute flurry, Jac had said yes without hesitating and the night was about as perfect as could be hoped for. Should he be suspicious? Just watch, any second the fire alarms were going to get triggered and all the guests were going to get soaked in water after the band spontaneously combusted. Or maybe Dacian would barge in through the doors and rip the head off the Minister for Magic’s Chief Advisor who was loitering nearby.
Actually, while things were going well maybe he should just enjoy it and not look a gift horse in the mouth.
Jac must have caught him looking at the band because she managed to beat him to the punch before he could get his thoughts in order. “Shall we dance?” she asked lightly, finishing something with her handbag and looking up at him with those brown eyes. “It’s a perfect excuse for not talking to anybody… Except me, of course.”
Hah. Silas cracked an amused smile. “Read my mind,” he agreed, stepping down off the platform and keeping his arm up for Jac to step down after him.
Admittedly, Silas wasn’t much of a dancing fan, but for Jac he was willing to put that aside for a bit. He was pretty sure it was something like riding a broom anyway – it just came flooding right back to you. As much as he liked resenting his mother for forcing him to learn all the banal crap all good pureblood boys were expected to learn, he had to admit it occasionally came in handy.
By the sounds of it the band was playing something formal yet sufficiently cheery enough for the tone of the night. A well-known but fun wizarding dance was coming to mind and Silas started mentally going over the steps in his head as he led Jac onto the floor. It was a good traditional one with which to start a night because it left the field wide open to progress to something else once both couples were comfortable.
“I won’t step on anyone’s feet if you don’t,” he promised jokingly, releasing her long enough to bow before gently pulling her closer and resting his right hand on her hip. “Aim of the game: Make everyone else wish they were us.” He held her hand firmly but gently, and once she looked comfortable eased into the first few steps. This might be worth it after all.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jul 5, 2010 22:29:31 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;]As Silas led her to the dance floor on his arm, she could feel her pride growing. Usually in a scenario such as this, smugness was the overwhelming emotion but there was something different about Silas. With him, she was as insufferably smug as usual, but there was also a wealth of feeling that was warmer and more fulfilling. Being on Silas’s arm, she didn’t just feel like a trophy, but an asset as well.
She had to listen carefully to catch his words as they began weaving between the throngs of people. She smiled and gave the barest shake of her head. It wouldn’t be hard to make a crowd jealous, even one as pompous as this. “I think this would be a very short game, in that case.” She replied, taking the opportunity of their stopping to kiss Silas lightly on the cheek.
She took his hand, and as the music picked up, they began to dance. To begin with they were steady, testing each other’s steps and reacquainting themselves with the dance. But then as with other things, it was easy to find their rhythm and as the song picked up, they could move faster and precisely in harmony.
It was a cliché, but they generally came about for a reason. As the dancing continued, it was as if they were the only couple in the room. Together they whirled and quickstepped, pressed tightly together, gazing into each other’s eyes. It was in this enraptured state that she managed to be oblivious to all the other people on the dance floor, including one man in particular who was making his way toward them across the crowded room.
When the current song finished, Jac leaned into Silas, smiling broadly and breathing heavily. Her sphere of perception began to widen, and her eyes followed suit when she saw who was standing next to Silas. Her flustered expression hardened too slowly for her anxiety to be completely hidden, and she subconsciously moved to shelter further behind Silas.
The mas was of similar height to Silas, but narrower in the shoulders, gaunt in the face and with eyes that bulged like a strangled rat. His hair was slicked back with an unattractive sheen and in the gloom of the dance floor, he looked suspiciously vampiric. His smile was suitably slimy, but revealed no fangs, “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Miss Jacaranda?” Jac’s mouth opened and closed once, but thankfully Silas came to her rescue. One hand laced with his, while one still rested on his chest. Jacaranda was rarely lost for words, but this was one man she did not expect to see again, and being confronted by an ex-employer and ex-lover while in the embrace of your current employer and lover was a cause for a little hesitancy. |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jul 11, 2010 14:54:32 GMT 1
Silas was actually having fun. You know, doing something normal. Dancing, step, turn, twist, an upswing in the music’s tempo, a misstep, Jac’s tinkling laugh, a rhythm, twirl, pressing closer, lights, sound, and those chestnut flecks in her eyes.
But like all good things, the music came to an end and the couples slowed, giving way to a short round of applause from the dancers. Moods were high, and the feeling was contagious. Silas smiled broadly, only managing to join the applause for a few seconds before Jac pressed into him and he turned his attention onto her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head.
Yanno, dancing wasn’t so bad. How he’d convinced himself otherwise was a mystery.
Of course, he should have trusted his first instinct: when things looked like they’re going well, that’s just because fate was just preparing to ruin things. From the way Jac suddenly tensed, that was due aboooout... now.
There was a man standing nearby, but until then Silas hadn’t paid him any notice. On the scale of things, it wasn’t quite the fire-alarms malfunctioning or the band combusting, but anyone who made Jac recoil like that probably deserved to be in the same category.
The man was queasy looking, staring that them both almost unblinkingly, calculatingly, and his smile revealed rows of uneven, uncapped teeth. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Miss Jacaranda?” he asked, and Silas felt rather than saw Jac withdraw in response while her fingers laced defensively with his.
Yeah, no.
“No, I think you can speak for yourself,” Silas replied with an air of polite good-naturedness that contrasted rather starkly with the borderline-aggressive response. “Who the hell are you?” he added, addressing the man directly. On the scale of things he could do a lot ruder, but this was Silas’s version of playing it cautious.
Incidentally, Silas did know who the man was. Byron Grisham, owner of a moderately large strip club up in Glasgow and who’d probably lost a fair chunk of customers after Scores had opened. Hell, he’d practically poached Jac directly from the man’s club. You didn’t get far in life without having some idea of who your opposition was. Well, and obliterating them, but darling Dacian wasn’t around to vouch for that one anymore.
R.I.P, or not.
‘Not’ was fine.
And one thing Silas knew for sure was that Grisham’s name had not been on the invitation, so what he was doing there was a damn good question.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jul 11, 2010 18:15:55 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;]The man squared his shoulders and met the casino owner’s gaze with his dead fish-like eyes. “Not to matter, I came to speak to Jackie.” He held his hand out, impatiently gesturing for the woman to come to his side. “We have plenty to catch up on, don’t we kitten?” He said, dismissing the other man.
The floor had cleared a little as couples navigated to the bars for refreshments, but the next song was starting, encouraging a slow and intimate dance. Jac was almost stricken, still clinging to Silas like a lifeline. In the past, she would have no choice but to take the man's invitation, and even now she felt the compulsion to do so. Silas’s instant response however gave her a little clarity. She was no longer under Grisham’s thumb, and it seemed Silas was willing to make that very clear. |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Dec 13, 2010 12:08:52 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/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] Wait, what? Kitten? Silas paused to visually size the other man up. “That wasn’t optional,” he answered harshly. Who the hell did this bastard think he was anyway? Barging in like he owned the damned place. “Second time: Who the hell are you?” Pet names, previous employers, commanding hand gestures? You didn’t need to be a genius to figure that one out. Goddamn it, Jac. Nothing like an impromptu meeting with the ex to ruin a good night. Grisham scowled and met Silas’s eye. “What’s it to you? It’s not like it’s any of your business.” “Actually, it is. Seeing as it’s our night you’re interrupting,” Silas answered, resting a hand on Jac’s shoulder. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed and Grisham’s eyes narrowed.
There was a terse silence, which Silas finally broke. ”Alright, sorry Grisham,” he sighed, turning away as though disregarding the man entirely. “Jac, be a dear and call security,” he asked. At the very least it should get her away long enough for him to talk to and/or threaten Grisham as required. Besides, the more distance between them the better.
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Dec 13, 2010 14:55:28 GMT 1
Jealousy from a man was one of two things, frightening or flattering. Grisham was frightening, Silas was the flatterer. The tight knot of tension in her chest eased a little as his hand settled on her bare shoulder. She dropped her gaze, staring intently at the floor between the two men as if she didn’t want to draw the attention of Grisham now he was firmly engaged in a staring match with Silas.
People had started to move around them again as the dancing continued. The three of them were an island of stillness in the heaving mass. They got more than one odd look as the two men continued their standoff. Jac might have been embarrassed if she wasn’t quite so worried about how this could escalate.
Thankfully Silas still had some restraint, even with Grisham glaring daggers at him. She’d admired him once, that single-minded determination that got him what he wanted, and all the money with it. Now she was on the receiving end of it, it frightened her. It had been why she’d been so eager to leave him in the first place.
Silas broke the standoff, and Jac took the cue to leave gratefully. She tried her best to avoid the dancers but she was bumped half a dozen times on her way to the bar, the most likely place to find a guard. She spotted a tall burly man, greying at the temples with a face set in stone standing near the bar and overseeing the excited patrons. What was his name? Lithgow? It didn’t matter if she couldn’t remember his name, he knew her on sight. Did he actually cringe or did she imagine that?
“Mr. Rosier sent for you,” she gestured to the dance floor where Silas and Grisham were talking about who knew what. The guard dutifully peered over the heads of the dancers and patted his wand at his belt. Feeling safer now she had some distance, Jac made a little half smile. “Take a whole team, just in case.” Just the idea of seeing Grisham escorted out of Scores by a group of security guards was satisfying.
It didn’t take long for the security staff to mobilise. They knew it was in their best interest not to dawdle considering Silas's penchant for finding people on the spot if they didn’t meet his standards.
While Lithgow rallied his pals, Jac took up sentry on a balcony, well out of harm’s way to watch the show. It was hard to see much, but Grisham was looking distinctly stony. An unpleasant flush of colour was rising angrily to his face and between the concourse of dancers there were glimpses of his clenched fists. By contrast, Silas was waving his drink around airily having conjured it from wherever he had hidden it, seemingly oblivious to the escalating tension. Whatever he was saying, Grisham was looking dangerously close punching him in the face. Although knowing Silas, that could easily have been his goal.
Soon there were a handful of guards cutting a swath through the dance floor. She bet none of them got jostled. They converged on the two high-powered men and just as Grisham started forward on Silas with what seemed like violent intentions, the guards seized him and took control.
She couldn’t catch all the details from here, but she knew they would have taken his wand, and used binding spells to hold him if he so much as resisted. Nearly every pair of eyes watched as Grisham was forcefully removed from the premises, and Jac was smiling along with them.
As the crowd quieted and returned to their evening, a new topic of gossip to entertain them, Jac looked back down onto the dance floor to see Silas presumably reassuring a remaining guard. He turned, and their eyes met across the crowded room. She felt her stomach flutter, and her smile break into a grin. She couldn’t help herself.
Without needing a prompt, she made her way back through the crowd to Silas, and they enjoyed the rest of the night with nary an interruption.
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