(1937-12-18) Born Troublemakers
Details for Born Troublemakers
Summary: Alis and Cyril meet up by chance in Kensington Park.
Date: 12/18/937
Location: Kensington Park

Once the private gardens of Kensington Palace, Kensington Gardens is 270 acres of green right in the heart of London, at the west end of Hyde Park. A beautiful park full of green fields, fountains, and walking paths, this park attracts all kinds of visitors. Children especially come to the park, hoping to find the fairies described in Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, or to see the elaborately carved Elfin Oak, a 900-year-old tree stump carved with images of elves, gnomes, and small animals.

Ah, sunlight. It's a rare sight in occurance in London, especially in the middle of December. Because of this, Cyril finds himself spending his time out and about. As he secretly is in love with nature, he's decided to stop by Kensington Gardens where he's leaning against the bridge, looking down over the water, smiling softly as the wing plays havoc with his hair.

In her youth, Alis was well-acquainted with most corners of London, but it's been quite a while since she's spent much time in the country, much less the city. A sunny day is to be appreciated, certainly, but even on an apparently random stroll through the park, she's more poised and self-assured than the average tourist. She's winding her way along one of the paths leading toward the bridge, the pace of her footsteps somewhat more rapid than one would expect from a casual stroll. Rhythmic, almost.

Ooo, look! A duck! Cyril smiles warmly at the waterfowl and stands up from his leaning position. He rests his hands on his hips and looks over his shoulder where he spot Alis. Wait, is that Alis? It's been so long since he's seen her that he can't quite remember what she looks like.

The brisk pace falters briefly when Alis catches sight of the familiar shade of Malfoy hair. Really, it's better than a flag, even though his is shorter than that of the brother she met up with only a handful of days ago. The rhythmic beat of her footsteps resumes, picking up the pace only marginally as she continues along the path, pausing again when she reaches the bridge, halting rather than setting foot upon it. "Well, well. If it isn't Cyril Malfoy. That is you under that mop, isn't it?"

Cyril smiles warmly at her and moves to give her the Victorian smooch to the cheek, saying, "Indeed it is. I suppose that is still the gorgeous figure of Miss Alis Orpington. You're looking fantastic these days, my dear." The warm smile takes a turn to the more charming side as he says this.

Alis smirks up at him, shaking her head at the flattery. "I'm not nearly as impressionable as I was the last time you saw me, Cyril. That charm isn't going to work on me, but thank you. You're looking well. Taking a break from causing trouble? Or have you simply changed venues?"

Cyril smiles at her and leans sideways against the rail, saying, "Och, that's a shame. I'm still going to try, though." He smirks and clasps his hands, "I was never much of one to cause trouble, you know that. It just seems to…find me sometimes."

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?" Alis takes the single step closer, onto the bridge, then leans against the railing as well, one foot daintily crossing the other. "I haven't met the Malfoy yet who wasn't born to cause trouble, though I'll admit there are some members of the family I haven't had the pleasure of crossing paths with." She pauses a beat before adding, "Not that I can say there's anything wrong with causing trouble, given how often I do it myself."

Cyril chuckles and says, "You can believe it if you'd like. It's completely up to you." Another smirk and he says, "Though, I plan to stand by the fact that I'm a completely innocent, non-troublemaking member of society." He gives her a wink.

"Ah." Alis sighs, almost wistfully. "I'd almost forgotten how prettily you lie." She straightens a bit, wagging a finger at him, and tsks. "You really ought to be more careful with that. I might be inclined to believe you're a non-troublemaking member of society, but innocent? Really?"

"You should see what else I can do prettily." There's another wink and he stands up straight, tugging any wrinkles out of his fine, silk coat. He offers his arm to her and says, "Come. Walk with me. I dread lingering for too long in any one place."

That draws a short burst of laughter from Alis, and she tosses her head. "I expect that comes with being a Malfoy, doesn't it? Being able to do everything prettily?" She pushes herself away from the railing, her feet uncrossing so that she can take the handful of steps to close the distance between them, one hand lifting to rest on his offered arm. "I can relate to not wanting to linger, though I suspect for different reasons."

Cyril pats her hand and says, "It's true. We are a pretty people. It's a shame about Cassius, though. That bloody nose on him and all." He chuckles softly and begins to lead her down the sidewalk, saying, "Oh, I don't know about that. I believe that our motivations are far more similar than you'd like to admit."

"Someone bloodied his nose?" It shouldn't come as a surprise that Alis is so quick to evidence concern for the younger Malfoy. "I just saw him a few days ago, and he looked fine. When was this?" Ever the protective little lion, at least where Cassius is concerned. "I daresay you might be right, with regard to our motivations being similar. We just have different methods."

Cyril chuckles and says, "Oh, no. I was saying that he's got a strange nose. Not that someone's hit him. Though, I suppose that if someone wanted to hit it, that it wouldn't be that hard." He smirks and looks over to her, his brilliant golden eyes taking in her features once more as he says, "Exactly. I've got good methods and you've got other kinds."

"Oh." Even so, it takes Alis a moment to reorient herself, and she colors quite prettily in the interim. "There's nothing wrong with his nose," she finally says, with a shake of her head. "I think it suits him. And there's nothing wrong with my methods, either."

Cyril smirks and pats her hand, saying, "I'm only kidding, dear Alis. It's my right as his brother to make fun of him whenever I see fit. Just like it's his right to kick me out of his house because he doesn't agree with my bold personality." Nah, there's no bad blood there at all.

Alis is, quite frankly, aghast. "He kicked you out of the house?" She twists her body, the better to look up at him while still walking a straight line. After a moment of scrutiny, she makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a giggle, though she quickly covers her mouth with her free hand, hiding the smile and feigning a cough. It's not very convincing. "He offered me a job, when I went to see him."

Cyril grins and says, "He did, indeed. Luckily, I've still got Edwarlinda. She loves me enough to take me in, at least. I'm thinking about getting my own space, though. Trying to decide now between building an estate or just buying a nice flat downtown."

"Lucky you." There's just a trace of envy in Alis' voice, but it's gone quickly. "My return was rather unexpected, so I'm staying with Mum. At least until I can work some things out. Employment, lodgings, that sort of thing."

Cyril grins and says, "Don't think of me as some priviledged boy, though. Every penny that goes into my home will be one that I've earned myself. I weened myself off of my parent's fortune ages ago." He pats her hand softly and says, "I hate to hear that. If I had a home, it would of course be open to you, Alis."

"Oh, I've no doubt it would be paid for with hard-earned blood money." There's no malice to her tone; Alis doesn't pass judgment the way others might. "And that's sweet of you, Cyril, but I'd have to decline, so really it's for the best that you aren't in that position. I'm happy enough at home, anyway." This is an outright lie, and she doesn't do it anywhere near as prettily as he does.

Cyril smirks and says, "I hope you don't think of me as some sort of deviant, my dear. I assure you that you would be entirely safe in my hypothetical home. But, with social mores being what they are, I do understand." He's a genuinely nice guy when he's not holding a gun or strangling the life out of some dignitary who's crossed the wrong person.

Alis pats his arm with her free hand. "I like you, Cyril, but I hope you won't be too terribly offended when I say I don't particularly trust you. More to the point, I absolutely don't trust myself, with you. Social mores be damned, though I suppose I'll have to pay attention to such things if I wind up working for Cassius." There's a wrinkle she hadn't previously thought of.

Cyril furrows his brow and understands the bit about not trusting him because well…yeah, he kills people for money, but the next bit? "What do you mean you don't trust yourself with me?" To the next comment he says, "Oh, yes. You'll have to present yourself as a proper lady. A terrible thought, isn't it?"

"Well, let's just say that I have very little patience, and a habit of very poor judgment when it comes to certain men, shall we?" Alis waves that topic aside, wrinkling her nose at the notion of comporting herself as a lady should. "I expect that will last me all of five minutes, if that. Mum did her best to teach us all manners, but the only one it stuck with was the baby. I don't do proper well." Pause. "I did mention the lack of patience?"

Cyril drags a thumb along her hand and says, "A weak spot for dashing soldiers of fortune? You sounds like a young girl there, Alis. It's endearing." He smirks and says, "I'm sure you'll do fine, dear. I'm sure that even I could pretend to be a gentleman if the pay was right."

"A weak spot for pretty things," Alis admits, her lips quirking in a smirk as she shakes her head. "And I still am young. Not as young as I was the last time we met, but younger than you, at least." Her mouth twists, and she shakes her head again. "It's never been about the money, for me. That's especially true when Cassius is involved."

Cyril grins broadly and says, "Well, I thank you kindly for the compliment. I do prefer rugged, of course, but I shan't hold it against you." He chuckles and looks down at her, saying, "Well, I am getting old, fat and blind. It's simply inevitable, really."

"Oh, but you're far too pretty to really be rugged," Alis protests, trying not to laugh as she says it. "You might be getting old, but I daresay one would be hard pressed to find any fat on you." Pause. "Not that I'm volunteering to look, mind, because however old you get, you will always be trouble."

Cyril chuckles and says, "Oh, I guess I won't hold it against you. However much I might like to." He grins devilishly and says, "So, dear Alis, why are you back? You never really told me."

"Flatterer," Alis mock-accuses. The good humor flickers and dies at his question, however, and she looks away from him, staring off into the distance before finally replying, "Personal business." She takes a breath, lets it out in a quiet sigh, and elaborates, if only barely, with, "My da. Died in an accident."

Cyril stops in his tracks as he hears the news and turns to face her, saying, "Oh, dear…Alis, I'm so sorry." He rubs her arm softly before actually pulling her in to give her a hug. "I didn't mean to turn the conversation to such a dark place."

"No, it's… it's fine." Alis doesn't protest the hug, however, even taking a minute to lean against him. "There's no reason for you to have known. It didn't even make the Prophet." Her father wasn't exactly a public figure or even a wizard of note, beyond being a genuinely good person.

Cyril rubs her back softly and says, "I'm sorry to hear that, dear. I'm sure he's missed by the highest calibre of people." He releases her from his strong, comforting arms and rests his hands on his hips.

Alis lets out a sigh and steps back when he releases her. "I'm sure he's missed by those who knew him, and that's all that really matters. We hadn't been all that close since my early years at school." She gives herself a shake, then lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "I honestly hadn't intended to come back for good, when I arrived a couple of weeks ago."

Cyril raises his brows and says, "Well, I'm glad you've decided to stay." He thinks for a moment and says, "Here, let me walk you to wherever you're going. I don't mind as well, I don't have anything else to do all day other than walk around with beautiful women on my arm."

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