(no subject)

[alt_regulus]

A quiet evening at home is a lovely, decadent thing. Especially such a rainy one when inside it's snug and warm.

I've been working all week at sorting through the boxes from Aunt Prewett's, but I'm nearly finished. I've set the armour to stand guard beside my breakfast table lest anyone steal my toast of a morning.

Now I think of it, most of the items were actually Uncle's--a rather wicked-looking poignard, for instance, and a silver shaving set. (I've been pondering what might happen if its charms have gone wonky at all.) Best of all, there are a great load of books. Inspired Strategies of Death-dealing Duellists by Esme Meretriste seems the most entertaining of them, but there are some real gems in the lot--ancient, obscure, idiosyncratic and utterly ingenious books of history and spellcraft and theory. There's a bit of philosophy in the mix, a medieval navigational manual, and a set of Senecan tragedies with very fine bindings.

One of the boxes contained an interesting assortment of oddments that must have been left at the end of the divvying up:

item, one ball self-tying twine;
item, one murderous thimble that jabs poison into the wearer's finger;
item, one well-worn pack playing cards missing three of its four jacks;
item, one fruit bowl, unwashed;
item, one flask doxy venom;
item, one absinthe spoon inscribed 'Hotel Churn, Cirencester';
item, one long shoe lace (unless it's really a garrote);
item, one chipped desktop espial globe;
item, one bone or ivory cigarette holder etched with ivy design;
item, one lady's hat, chartreuse with peacock tail.

Oh, yes, and one silver button.

I believe I'll take Salazar's Sapience to bed with me; it's a page-turner so far.

Comments

[alt_sirius]

If by having your priorities in order, you mean

-Regulus
-Regulus' friends
-Death Eaters
-Other Purebloods

and all others go hang, then I suppose you could say they're in order, yeah. You're right that I wouldn't say it, however.

Would be like Sally Slytherin to get himself in a lather about something like colour. Though you and your acquaintances seemed to favour unremitting black, from the boots to the hair to the lacquer to the eyeliner, wasn't it? Wonder what your hero would have thought of that nonsense. Anyway, are you suggesting he'd take the time from a busy schedule of murder and mayhem to coordinate his robes? Sounds more like that effete Lockhart bloke to me. (For what it's worth, Father did have a smoking jacket with red in the pattern. I think even Mother had at least two blue frocks and even one reddish one. but then you'd know what was in her closet far better than I, wouldn't you? )

... I think the other three Jacks might be found in Uncle Prewett's old things yet. I remember repairing a Snitch with one of the cards, and didn't he once shrink one down to stand in as the portrait in a broken pocketwatch for--oh, I don't know, some game you were playing. Or we were. I've no idea where the third one is. Perhaps a bookmark?

[alt_regulus]

Your list of my priorities leaves out the only One of any importance. If there is any second place to make it properly a 'list', then second place goes to family. Not that you've any concept of that beyond mocking our Parents' sartorial tastes.

Or have you let slip some nostalgic feeling for Uncle's playing cards? I could send them along if they mean something to you.


Oh, all right. I'll give you the fact that the kohl and paling powder look suited others better than it did me.

[alt_sirius]

You know, I considered putting him on the list, but then your lot are supposed to be so cowed you can't even bear to use the name he chose for himself, can you?

As for the cards, no sentimentality whatsoever, brother. Just wouldn't wish you to think you'd been cheated out of any part of the inheritance.

[alt_regulus]

What are you on about? He wills that He be addressed as 'Lord Protector' or 'My Lord', and His will commands.

I suspect the cards were a bonus rather than a proper bequest. I'm as content with 49 cards as with 52. It's a rather dodgy deck, in any case. The backs have a bunch of doxies cavorting on a plant that looks rather a lot like deadly nightshade.

[alt_regulus]

And you know, now I think of it, I nicked the hair dye off you. And the boots, for that matter. At least they were well broken in.

As for the lacquer and eyeliner, I feel certain you and your mate, Potter, got there long before I did. Not to mention the hair spiking and the studded wrist braces. You two were right ghoulish for a month or three.

Didn't really stick with it, though. Which speaks volumes about you. Both of you. Not very steady, really. Not what most girls' parents would call good value.

[alt_sirius]

I know you nicked the boots. You were always a miserable little copycat - and you were always helping yourself to my things. Couldn't have your own sense of style, even then, could you? But the dye? Never. James's hair was already black, you berk. As for me, I had no interest in making my hair look like Snivellus', thanks.

And why do you think I only did it over a summer, hm? We were having a bet on, to see how long it would take you to come running in behind us.

I see nothing's changed. Trying to get a twelve-year-old to build you up, so you can feel better about yourself, are you? Not healthy, Reg. Not in the slightest.

[alt_regulus]

Not a bit bitter, are you?

[alt_narcissa]

Oh, do stop, Reg. It's like tapping one of those wand-started monkeys, you know he will never stop whilst you give him any reason to continue.

[alt_sirius]

Only in the measure of my disappointment, Reg. Only bitter disappointment.