(1941-06-22) Disingenuous Smiles
Details for Disingenuous Smiles
Summary: A quiet afternoon at the Cauldron soon devolves into barbs.
Date: June 22nd, 1941
Location: The Leaky Cauldron

Like many of the Veritas Party meetings, it seems that this one had too many cooks in the kitchen. Unable to agree on a course of action in regards to the next election, the meeting broke up, various Heads of Family heading home to different locales across England. Marcus Agrippa, silent during the whole of the affair, does not appear to be in a good humor. He makes his way into the Leaky Cauldron, holding the door for Elysia, before yanking it shut. Agrippa is dressed in a rather snappy pin-striped suit and a perfectly-shaped fedora.

He makes his way to the bar, sighing. The lean wizard looks — discouraged. "Two brandies, if you wouldn't mind." His Finnish accent is lilting and just slightly off-kilter, the rhythm of the words wrong. He glances over his shoulder to Elysia. "Your soup of the day for my wife. And I shall have the porterhouse. Bloody." After ordering, he turns and stalks to a table. Ostensibly gracious, the wizard yanks out a chair for Elysia with a bit more force than is necessary.

"It's like they are seated deep within an illusion," grumbles Marcus. The brandies are set before the pair, and he takes a long sip. His eyes narrow slightly as he considers the flavor. "Not bad," he says absently. "The stuff you buy is better, of course." Not so much a compliment as a statement of fact. "Does it not occur to you, Elysia, that these men are fools? It's a waste of time, waiting for them to act."

He reins himself in with a visible effort, sighing. "Forgive me, beloved. I am in quite a taking, am I not?" There's not the barest trace of irony in his voice. He stares at Elysia across the table, sighing. "At least I get a steak tonight."

"If you believe you are attending these metings in anticipation of some.." Her hand departs her glass, a gesture waved with her fingertips through the air, elbow remaining propped. "..triumphant display of alignment or an uprising against the would-be oppressors, than of course you are disappointed. They are not the means to the end.. they are a by-product of it. A cell of possible support, given the right circumstances."

"Ove would be mortified," murmurs Marcus softly. Almost a whisper. He takes another long sip of his brandy. The compliment from Elysia does bring a faint half-smile to the cold man's features, and he replies, "No. They are nothing like you or I." He considers the brandy for long moments, then sighs. "I had hoped to refrain from.. what is the term? Making a buzz. But the Cause needs these men to wake up."

Marcus falls silent as the soup and steak are brought, staring up at the waitress in a way that makes her flush, his eyes moving up and down her body openly. He looks back to Elysia without a hint of shame, though he does seem somewhat mollified. "So tell me, my clever wife. How do we wake them up?"


The young fellow, drenched from head to toe, takes his time to gaze about, a few grumbles given as a wand is produced, a faint wave of it given, and clothing is dried within a moments time. It was not much to dry off, thankfully, given he wore a long coat of some heavy material that caught most of the rain. Beneath he wore a long sleeve shirt, colored white with a red vest worn atop and a pair of black slacks with matching black shoes. After this, and only after, does his eyes settle upon a familiar figure. Be it two, perhaps. A hand is raised as the young Flint makes his way towards the familiar pair, calling out in conspiratorial tones, "Marcus, Elysia!"

Belatedly, Elysia raises her glass to her lips, pinkie daintily aloft, and takes a genteel sip. Ugh. She doesn't particularly like the stuff, but she's hardly about to complain, given the mood her husband appears to be in. At least the soup looks good - she eyes the bowl that's set down in front of her, while the waitress doesn't warrant so much as a glance. Ah, entitlement. With the excuse to set aside the drink, now that distraction is presented in the form of food, the brunette idly stirs the creamy soup with a motion of her fingertip above it, attention returning to Marcus himself.

"While it's not, perhaps, the time or place for the smaller details.." she begins, tilting her head a little to imply the relatively quiet Cauldron, "..if you are asking my thoughts on why precisely the group seems so lacking, I would suggest it to be a lack of incentive. Nothing happening to encourage them to push forward. That's been the case since the new Minister took office, of course. Which only lends credence to his 'winning' reputation, by popular opinion." Wisely, she's careful to keep her conversation open to interpretation. Discussing deviant activities? Her? Don't be silly. Look at that angelic face.

Hearing her name, her train of thought diverted if not broken, the singer shifts her gaze toward the newcomer through the door, whom she greets with a smile as he approaches their table.. and the other figure, now standing at the bar. It's quite likely she recognises him, really.. she does make it her business to know those who populate the upper circles of society. Regardless, her gaze lingers a moment on Regulus Black before returning to the freshly-dried young man. "Hello, Logan."

The advent of the Ministry official at the bar is noted — Marcus jerks his chin in Regulus's direction, frowning slightly. "Do we know him?" The question is voiced softly, but pointedly. And then Marcus falls silent, listening intently to the woman across from him. He takes in a deep breath after a few moments. "Yes. I believe I see what you mean. We shall discuss the rest of it at home."

Logan's arrival causes the man to look up sharply. His hand drifts down toward his lap, out of sight, but he smiles — his face warming surprisingly. "Hello, Logan! Do have a seat. May I order you a drink?" It's as though some switch has gone off in his head. Absently, Marcus's other hand reaches over to take Elysia's hand — as it happens, her soup-spoon hand. "I've a meeting to attend shortly. Perhaps you would be so good as to escort my wife once I leave?"

As the crystal wine glass is brought his way, filled with a deliciously pale wine, Regulus pulls a few coins from his pocket and tosses them atop the bar before curling his fingers around the stem of the glass and turning toward the bar room. His eyes perform a practiced sweeping motion before settling on the trio at the table, in particulur upon Marcus and Elysia, who seem to be taking as much interest in himself. His eyes settling on Marcus, he holds that look for a long while and then gives a slow nod of greeting before shoving off the bar and heading in their direction.

"It's good to see you both." Logan repies, a wide and genuinely warm smile set upon his face as he considers the offer. After a moments consideration he dips his head graciously pulling a seat out for himself and settling upon it. "Your offer is most kind, but I should insist on buying you both a drink seeing as I am the intruder upon your time and conversation. Lest it be some sort of faux pas." The second question is then considered before he offers a faint nod, eyes flickering from Marcus to Elysia. "Certainly, lest she has any objection?" A humorous gleam sinks into the young Flint's eyes as his hands come to rest atop the table, one flat over the other to show they are empty. Only then does his eyes find Regulus, considering him for a moment before returning his gaze to his companions, "I do hope I've not intruded?"

"And you." Likewise, Elysia's manner takes a sudden lean toward warmth as the familiar face takes a seat with them. "And you know I would never turn down either a drink or a pleasant companion." Any concern over either of those risks is swept aside, all with a mere word from the young Agrippa. Flashing Logan a smirk in response to that gleam of mischief in his eyes, the brunette then leaves the pair largely to it, turning her focus now to the other elegant chap who draws near.

"Regulus Black." Managing to succinctly answer her partner's query and offer a polite greeting simultaneously, Elysia offers a hand in a polite gesture of greeting toward the tall Wizard. How ironic, really. Two different sides of a coin, though with any luck the Black doesn't know it. Why would he, when she offers such a welcoming curve of lips. "I know you by reputation, of course. Elysia Agrippa." The name is offered with pride - after all, no Purist is going to baulk at that bloodline.

Marcus rises to his feet, slowly. He reaches to squeeze Elysia's shoulder, smiling in greeting to Regulus. "Marcus Agrippa, sir. What a pleasure to meet you — and how I wish I had the time to remain and discourse with you." The Finnish man's choice of English seems to be erratic at moments. "My wife, Elysia, was just telling me about your work in the Ministry. We are firm supporters of your work, of course." In Magical Accidents? Or does Marcus mean something else? His smile could be anything.

Attention turning back to Logan, Marcus says "I wish I could stay for that drink, my friend." His warm smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. "But as you know, I've so many things to attend to." Really? A tattoo parlor's owner? "I know that my darling will be perfectly safe in your company." He looks from one person to another, lingering on Elysia. "I shall see you at home later, my dear?" The narrow-featured man leans in suddenly for a rather passionate kiss, gripping the back of Elysia's neck lightly. When he straightens, the man doesn't linger, turning and walking out of the establishment.

A slight lift of Regulus' brow in surprise follows Elysia's ability to seemingly pull his name from thin air. His eyes flit across her face quickly, a calculating look that seems to whir through his files of familiar faces before his eyes turn to the standing Marcus who receives the same form of quick assessment. His smile is cordial, polite, and completely ingenuine as he gazes toward them. "Agrippa," he repeats. "Ahh, yes. My father and nephew Alphard have mentioned your names before. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm sure." His eyes return to Elysia as Marcus departs, apparently unphased by the public passion of the kiss and he says somewhat disbelievingly, "You are a fan of the Accidental Magic Reversal office? If so, I am no doubt on par with a Quidditch star in your eyes. Please, hold yourself back. I don't want to be bombarded for autographs this evening."

Logan slowly rises to his feet not long after sitting, a reserved smile offered to Regulus along with a faint incline of his head, "Mister Black." He says, voice polite and respectful and a hand raising to be offered to Regulus. "Logan Flint, a pleasure."

A brief glance to Elysia is given after Marcus departs, expression a mask of neutrality and practiced dispassion. "What might I get you to drink? The tab is open upon my coin." And with a moments consideration he then offers to Regulus, "And perhaps you as well, Mister Black? For when your present runs dry?" The jests from Regulus draw no smile from Logan, only an appraising gaze and a tilt of the head.

"It's a relatively well-known name, even outwith the rather smaller circles we've found here in London." Elysia chuckles. Notably, there's no trace of the foreign lilt in her tone.. no, that's pure, upper-class, plum-in-mouth English. "Whereas I find myself losing track of your own genealogy, I confess. I assume you have some system in place, when it comes to remembering birthdays and the like."

As for Reggie and his friend, his ego, the young lady merely chuckles low in her throat once more. "Oh, absolutely.. I do believe you've replaced Quick Palancher in the hearts of young women across the country. Or you will, if you obliviate their memories of Quick Palancher." It's a tease, if a guarded one. Does she really want to discuss tricks of the mind with a Ministry official?

Regulus' insincere smile persists, even going so far as to add a short laugh as she points out the winding branches that make up the Black Family Tree. "Madam Agrippa, when the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is your heritage, I believe you are ingrained with an impressibe knack for remembering birthdays and those cousins' names that somehow get misplaced in other lines." Glancing toward Logan, Regulus considers the man before saying, "Regulus Black. Senior Accidental Magic Reversal Wizard. And as for my drink, the barkeep keeps a special selection of French vintage behind the bar. Just mention that it is for me and he will know what to do." The Black slides out a chair, apparently not overly concerned with invitations and then settles down and gazes across the table toward Elysia. "So Alphard tells me that you own a… what was it? A tattoo parlor. That sounds… exotic."

A quiet rage fills Logan's eyes as his hand is ignored, face keeping it's neutral mask as he sidesteps from his place at the table and makes his way towards the bar. It's a quiet exchange, two glasses of white wine and one filled with the french vintage gathered and paid for before he returns to the table. The glass for Regulus is placed down with a little extra force, not enough to shatter the glass but the crystal creaks and protests the abuse. The young Flint then turns towards Elysia, offering a glass to her as he says, "Moscato, though I fear I am unaware of your personal tastes to red or white wines." He does not sit, taking a stand to Elysia's right and adjusting his long coat so that the handle of his wand is exposed only a hint from it's place along his belt.

"I would imagine so." replies the brunette, a momentary laugh complimenting the one loosed by Regulus. Though, rather like Marcus, no matter how charismatic her expression, the chilly hue of her eyes remains unthawed. Well, she probably can't help that. Discreetly adjusting her posture as the Black takes a seat, Elysia ensures she's at-a-glance inviting; settling back in her chair and folding her hands in her lap, rather than hiding behind the 'boundary' of the table. Another glance goes toward Logan, to see how well he accepts the lofty order - and dismissal - of the stranger, tempered with a flicker of sympathy should she catch his eye.

"Mmm.." The noncommittal sound announces her return to the subject laid out. "My husband does, yes. I never fail to be amazed by the beauty and detail of his work." There's a fleeting, obligatory smile. "I myself.. actually work for a relative of yours. If that narrows it down at all." She can't resist adding that, referencing the tease of a moment ago.

Looking up as Logan returns, the young woman accepts the glass with a genuinely grateful curve of her lips to acknowledge him. "Thank you. I've no real preference." She sniffs delicately at the wine, before nodding approval. "..but this seems lovely." While she doesn't say so aloud, the presence of the young man as he remains by her shouldr is a reassuring comfort, in Marcus' absence. She certainly doesn't seek to move him. The arrival of another to the Cauldron draws her attention to the fireplace… where her gaze lingers curiously, especially as the new arrival settles his gaze on Regulus.

A faint snort escapes from Logan as his eyes narrow, a free hand raising to gently touch Elysia's shoulder. He grinds his teeth a bit, fingers squeezing perhaps a bit too tight for a moment before relaxing. "I believe I may be on my way shortly, after all I still require storefront for the business." His eyes then flicker to Regulus, ignoring the newcomer as he says in a faintly venomous tone, "And I would not possibly wish to be rude to present company. Afterall, this is not my table and I would never be so intolerable as to invite myself to it, nor others, for extended time."

Amir returns the nod to Regulus, a small smile forming at the silent invitation. If he overhears Logan's words as he approaches, he is conveniently ignoring them…or simply contributing to the rudeness. He pauses just at the edge of their social bubble, offering a respectful bow to the trio. "Greetings. Please forgive my intrusion." He speaks with a distinct accent — Arabic, to the educated ear. "Mr. Black, is it? I believe you were pointed out to me as I was given the tour of the M.A.C. offices. I regret we did not get the chance to meet."

"Elysia." The enigmatic charm is, very briefly, set aside as the young woman firmly disallows the use of such an over-familiar endearment, only to then adapt it to unperturbed banter with a smile. "..if you don't mind, darling." Taking a tentative sip of her wine, the brunette flicks her gaze toward the turban-wearing man being invited across to, actually, her table. But apparently he's intriguing enough not to warrant her shoo'ing them off elsewhere. "Nigellus." she offers, by way of answer to the previous matter, without taking her eyes from the approaching stranger.

"Hmm. This is good!" she offers, across her shoulder to Logan as he prompts her with a touch; indicating her wine with a minute tilt of the glass. The surprise in her inflection doesn't seem to be intentionally riling, either. The young man, still standing by her right shoulder, apparently has more of her trust and understanding than the dapper chap she's seated with. But these things only come in good time. Arching a brow at his obvious ire - and pointedly not seeking to dissuade him from it - Elysia holds up a finger in a staying motion, taking a heartier mouthful of the wine before speaking. "..if you wait until I've finished this, I'll come with you." Oh my, that's strong when you gulp it. Her nose wrinkles ever so slightly but she seems otherwise undeterred.

There's not much to mark the entrance of Boudica through the door beyond the opening and closing of the door, perhaps. Taking a moment to pause within to allow her gaze to sweep over those occupants within the tavern, it lingers briefly upon the table where a few are gathered together, perhaps more upon the back of Amir than the others. Something different to attact the eye in his current outfit more than anything else currently. With a smile upon her painted lips, she finally moves away from the door, seeking a table for herself, nodding to a few who greet her with charming politeness.

A faint, but genuine, smile is given to Elysia at the comment on the wine, his own brought up and a long drink taken to drain the remainder of the glass. His fingers remain on her shoulders, eyes fixated upon Regulus and only deviating to offer Amir a dip of his head. Afterall, Amir did nothing wrong as of yet. "Very well. I don't suppose you know anyone looking for an investigator at present? Work has been.. Slow, as per usual." The idle tone of his voice lends to casual conversation rather than real interest, an idle gesture to pass the time.

"Oh, don't be foolish, Owen," Regulus says toward Logan, apparently not noticing that he has called the man by the completely wrong name. His eyes lift to the man's face for a moment and he says, "Why don't you join us? You say that you are looking for a store front? What sort of business is it that you do?" His eyes shift back toward Elysia and he says, "Ahh, Uncle Nigellus. You are the new singer in The Prestige, then? I had heard he had hired one." To Amir, "Indeed. Regulus Black, Senior Reversal Wizard with the Accidental Magic Reversal Department. Please, join us."

A faint, but genuine, smile is given to Elysia at the comment on the wine, his own brought up and a long drink taken to drain the remainder of the glass. His fingers remain on her shoulders, eyes fixated upon Regulus and only deviating to offer Amir a dip of his head. Afterall, Amir did nothing wrong as of yet. "Very well. I don't suppose you know anyone looking for an investigator at present? Work has been.. Slow, as per usual." The idle tone of his voice lends to casual conversation rather than real interest, an idle gesture to pass the time.

The moment Regulus speaks the wrong name Logan's eyes fill with rage, and this time his face doesn't remain neutral. His lips twitch, eyes narrow, and a faint utterance of some idle swear comes from beneath his breath. "Clearly you have no respect for my family, let alone myself." He says, voice laced with ice and venom, "To not even remember a name. How -dare- you offer such an insult? Be grateful I am no lesser man, Mr. Black." His eyes then flicker to Elysia, the fingers resting against her shoulder beginning to softly tap in soft rhythm.

"Not at all." Elysia replies, smooth as silk, to Amir's politely offered apology; even affording the stranger a smile, green eyes assessing him with a thoughtful down-up rake. How curious. But not curious enough that she's unaware of her 'guard' getting increasingly hacked off with the stuck-up Black. She's more used to this sort of thing than him, but she can understand how one's hackles might rise. "Boudica!" The outburst likely seems unprompted, given with how fixated all three men are upon one another - hello, there are pretty ladies present? - but Elysia raises a hand in greeting toward the newly arrived Burke, features alight with a sudden grin. Well, being the owner of three troublesome Crups doesn't half ensure familiarity with one's vet. "How are you?" she adds, with the standard 'cocktail party' tone of polite enquiry.

"Hmm?" Glancing back to Regulus, despite her distraction, Elysia blinks before recalling the discussion. Or so it would seem. "Oh, yes. Yes, been there a little while now. Lovely man." Now for another gulp of wine. And another, as she feels that indicative finger-tapping on her shoulder. Licking her lips, the brunette sets down the glass, still with the dregs in the base, and begins to rise from her chair; a smile firmly in place. "Do forgive me, gentlemen. I've some business to attend before returning home." Well, Reggie's statement of her workplace means she'll be easy enough to find another time. Hopefully by the handsome stranger rather than Reggie himself, though she looks equably betwen the pair. Having vacated rather an interesting spot, she gestures Boudica across to take it, adding, "We'll have to catch up soon, darling!"

Amir dips his head to Regulus, though steers his introduction to all three present at the table. "I am Amir Prince, Ambassador to your Ministry of Magic." As he pulls out a chair to join them, his eyes fix on Logan, arching an eyebrow at the outburst. But he decides better than to interject himself into the budding feud, instead turning his attention to Elysia with a confident smile. "I have only just arrived, and you would rob me of your beauty? I hope that I have not frightened you away."

Upon hearing her name called out, Boudica turns and smiles a little warmer upon spying the owner of those troublesome crups, "A good day to you, Elysia. I am well as can be. And you?" Turning away from finding herself a table, especially when the other lady rises and gestures for her to join the table, the young Burke heads right on over, not seeming to pay much attention to the tension that might exist between some of the men at the table. A nod of her perfectly coffed head is given as Elysia makes her excuses, "Indeed. And hopefully not at the clinic.." She half teases.
Logan pages: That's about right xD

Shrugging her frock coat more suitably about her shoulders, Elysia pauses a momennt as she pulls her dark tresses from beneath the collar and eyes Amir appreciatively. Probably not for the compliment; she recognises a silver-tongue when she sees one. But for his manners and lack of concern over.. well, whatever's going on here. "I'm afraid so, Ambassador." What, he's frightened her away or she's robbing him? A smile tugs at one corner of her lips, almost convincingly creating an impression of shyness and offering no elaboration on which it is. "Though you would be welcome, I imagine, to visit the lounge at The Prestige, if you'll be staying in the city long enough." Ahh. Robbery it is, then. Extending the smile again to Boudica, as the pretty young woman arrives, she leans in to offer a swift air-kiss to one cheek. "Very well, thank you. Do excuse my dashing off.. oh, have you met Regulus Black? His associate, Ambassador Prince?" She gestures to each in turn with one hand, the other resting lightly at the vet's elbow. "At least I shall be abandoning you in fine company, no?" With that, and a pointed look toward Logan that conveys a very simple 'we're leaving…', the Agrippa turns and strolls for the exit to Diagon Alley; somehow managing to look elegant even with her hands stuffed in her pockets.

Raising his brows in surprise, Regulus looks up toward Logan, the Flint formerly known as Owen, and says, "Dear man, please do not take everything so personally. I did not mean to slight you in the least. Do you have any inkling of an idea as to how many faces and names I deal with every single day? Forgive me for not being able to recall your name from the single moment you spoke between my arrival and when you went to fetch drinks." The Black's tone is cool and completely lacking in any passion stirring toward Logan's growing anger. Unriled, he continues, "I have attempted to engage you in conversation regarding your business and you have responded with insults and anger."

A faint click of the tongue is given in response to Regulus, "Your attempt to ensure the fault is not your own is noted, though dismissed. You have, Mr. Black, offered a grave insult despite what you might wish to believe. I offered you courtesy upon your arrival and was blatently ignored, and my name is not worth registering upon your mind. Yet, those who are present that you know by reputation but have never met, are so easily remembered." A snort is given as he turns, moving to follow Elysia and stepping swift to catch up to her, mumbling, "The nerve of some people.. To not even remember my name but a short time after it was given." With quickened step he moves to open the entrance to Diagon Alley before Elysia gets there out of politeness.

Exchanging the quick air-kiss with Elysia, Boudica wishes the woman once more a nice day, including her escort out of the tavern. Quiet does she remain until the pair are gone, turning them to Regulus and Amir, "A pleasure to meet you both, though I hope I am not interrupting or intruding?" While Elysia might have invited her to the table, she won't take a seat unless certain the two men don't mind her joining them!

Amir watches Logan and Elysia go, tapping his chin curiously. At last he sighs and shrugs. "What an angry man. He needs to find an outlet." He turns his attention to Boudica again. "I have only just arrived, myself. I would welcome you, but my price is your name."

Rolling his eyes dismissively, Regulus looks to Amir and says, "Some people and their need to be offended everytime the wind blows." Regulus sighs and looks toward Boudica. He rises and gestures politely to one of the vacated chairs and says, "Regulus Black. A pleasure to meet you, please join us." Sitting once more, Regulus looks to Amir and says, "So what if your time in London? Are you enjoying your time here?"

"I thank you both then, good sirs." Polite is the young lady as she accepts the invitation to the table, though before taking a seat, she turns and smiles to Amir, "Boudica Burke." As for Logan and his anger, she doesn't offer comment, quite dismissive of the man's believed insult. Seated, she turns attention to the question put forth by Regulus to the visiting Ambassador, a curiosity to be seen in her gaze.

Amir takes his seat again only after Boudica sits. Settling in, he spreads his hands with a shrug. "I have seen little of it so far. I have been here only for a few days, and the Ministry has kept me very busy. But it seems that I must locate this 'Prestige' and pay a visit. Tell me Mr. Black, Ms. Burke, where must I go to see the soul of London?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Regulus says, "The Pristige is located on Knockturn Alley in the Mysticked District. Keep a wary eye out when journeying to the betting house, but once you arrive I assure you, you are safe." Regulus frequents his uncle's business quite often. "As for the soul of London, I enjoy Brompton myself, though many like Soho." He glances toward Boudica and says with an uplifted brow, "What is it that you do, Miss Burke?"

Boudica considers the answer given by Regulus, her head nodding a few times to show that she would agree with him on his choices voiced. "I would agree with Mr. Black, though I also enjoy visiting the Thames Path and Little Venice." When asked, she chuckles softly, the sound husky as she answers with a brush of fingers to catch a lock of brunette and tuck behind her ear, "I own a clinic for pets. I am a healer for animals. Veterinarian, as the Muggles would say." There's a slight hint of something in her voice when speaking of the non-wizards, but nothing too strong there. "Creature Comforts, in the Mysticked District off South Vertick Alley."

The warning form Regulus about the dangers of Knockturn Alley brings a wry smirk to Amir's lips, and a spark of excitement to his eyes. He makes mental notes of the locations the two suggest, nodding to show he's listening. "Ahh," he muses after Boudica, "You must be quite the compassionate soul, then."

Regulus finishes his wine and then nods toward Boudica. "I expect that I will be seeing more of you, then. My crup deserves the best." With that he presses himself to his feet and slides his chair back to the table. "I am afraid that I must be leaving. You two have a pleasant afternoon." With that, Regulus turns on his heel and leaves.

"If it's any sort of animal…" Boudica begins, laughing softly before she turns to Regulus, "Please, bring your crup by, and I'll be sure to make sure it's doing well. I tend to Elysia's crups, so if you have any questions about me.." He can ask the singer. As Regulus makes his excuses, she dips her head to him, "Have a good afternoon yourself, good sir."

Amir gives Regulus a nod. "Mr. Black. I'm sure we'll see one another soon." Amir isn't too bothered by the man's departure. Being left alone with a pretty lady is hardly something to complain about. "So, only animals? This is good. Human beings can be awful," he says with a chuckle and a smirk.

Pleasantries are made as Regulus leaves the table, leaving her with the handsome forgeiner. Boudica smiles, only to chuckle a little more at his words, "That they can be at times, especially when they are sick or injured, I learned in school. Animals are far more forgiving.. and less headache." Laughter easily picked up in her voice as she speaks. When approached by a server, she considers, "Elderflower Wine, please." The look is turned to Amir, "And you? Did you wish a drink?"

Amir lifts a hand and shakes his head. "Thank you, no. I do not imbibe. Ah…just water, perhaps." He nods to the server. "So this clinic you mentioned, you are the owner? Well done, for one so young."

A delicate blush touches Boudica's cheeks, a wry smile to play upon her lips, "I am sorry. That ws perhaps rude of me.." When he settles upon water, she changes her own order as well, "Pomegranate ice tea?" The server leaves to fetch their drinks, leaving them once more alone, "I am, yes. I worked for the Ministry for a short time after graduating, and between it and the book I wrote.." She didn't have to ask for much from her family in the way of help.

Amir brow lifts. "You are an author as well? Most impressive, Ms. Burke. Forgive me, as I am new to this country. But 'Burke'…this is a wizard family?" He tilts his head curiously, keeping his expression neutral as he awaits her answer.

"Thank you." Boudica answers before giving a slow nod, "The Burkes are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families of England, yes." It's then that curiosity turns towards the man himself, "And you, Ambassador? What of you and your homeland?" She asks it politely, the smile warm upon her lips, "What brings you to London, exactly, if I might be so bold to ask?"

"Ahhh, yes the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I have heard of this. A bold claim." Amir chuckles, quickly dismissing the subject in favour of her question. "I am here to represent the Egyptian Ministry to your I.M.C. Our last ambassador was…less than competent. As I am half-English on my father's side, it was felt that I could serve well as a bridge between our countries."

"Are there not similar families within your own homeland?" Boudica dares to ask, one brow arched delicately above, though at his answers to her questions, she ahs softly, "Your father was from England?" Curiosier and curiouser! "Then.." She pauses as the server returns with their drinks, a quiet word of thanks given to the young girl before she turns back to her table companion, "..here is hoping that such talks will indeed, form lasting friendships."

Amir nods. "My father is a man called Sorrelus Prince. He is what you call a curse-breaker. But in answer to your other question, yes, we do have families of pure stock. Though we have no publication declaring one line more pure than another. Most pure-blood families trace their own lineage, and few would dare to question a claim of purity."

"Prince.." Not a name that Boudica seems familiar with, though she listens, paying attention to his words as she sips from the glass before her. "As they are said to have done in the past.." Noble families of Egypt, that is. "Do you have siblings?" A finger traces the rim of her glass upon the table, "Any pets you brought with you?" She adds the last with a soft chuckle, "Tell me, if one was to visit your homeland, where would you suggest they go?"

Amir chuckles. "You are full of questions. I like that. I do have a sibling. A younger sister. I also have a pet; a sand boa. Do you have experience with snakes?" He leaves her final question for the moment, taking things a step at a time.

"I am glad you do not mind them.." Boudica says as she ahs, "I have a couple of older brothers, so I have something in common with your sister." The baby and only girl of the family. When he mentions the snake, she ohs softly, "I do, yes. I have a lovely hognose that a customer left with me and never came back for. I named him Newt…" Of course, she chuckles further, "You'll find that a veterinarian tends to collect all sorts of animals. Likely far more than they need. But I can never turn them away.." As for the topic of snakes, she adds, "I saw some interesting serpants when working with the Ministry.. amazing what people think they need or can care for."

"Perhaps I will require some guidance on caring for Fatin here in England. She is used to the desert, where she can hunt on her own." Amir sighs. "To be truthful, I do not know that I will be able to keep her. She seems fond of me, but she may not enjoy this change in environment. She cannot roam free here."

"Have you had a good talk with her? I do not know parseltongue, but if you have a good connection with her.." Boudica offers before suggesting, "Maybe, if you have the room, make a nice area for her to roam around in as close to what home might be like? I know our winters here will be dreadful, but our summers are not so bad. " Thoughtful is she as she considers this habit for the snake, "Let her know if she does not like it, to let you know. Perhaps your sister could watch over her back home if it comes to that?"

"No, that would not be possible," Amir says flatly. He taps his chin. "Speak to her, hm? I am no parselmouth, either. But I admit, I have been known to talk to Fatin. Perhaps I should seek out a parselmouth to communicate with her. Of course, by the time I find one, she might already be miserable."

"Which? The room for her to use, or sending her to your sister?" Boudica wonders then, the brow to lift in subtle question as she hmms, "I might be able to ask around about parseltongue after talking to my father in the ministry. Could at least give me a name of one, if you'd like?" Obviously, the wellcare of his pet, and his own worry for Fatin, has her hooked.

"My sister. She isn't in Egypt. She's here, at Hogwarts," Amir explains. "I'll try creating a larger space for Fatin. Right now I do allow her to roam my home. But it is not the sands that she loves. Perhaps she needs a sandbox."

"She is? Oh! Well, that's wonderful. If she's enjoying it.." Boudica begins, only to pause, "Did she just transfer, or…?" So curious is she, though once more, she blushes as she shakes her head, "I am sorry. I ask too many questions again." Quickly, a sip of her drink is taken before she nods, hair to brush her chin as it sways, "That would the thing. If you have the room, give her more than just merely a tank, but a nice area. A whole room if you really had the space. Or if you have an outdoors area, perhaps even a greenhouse?"

"I'll see what I can do. " Amir gestures widely around them. "It has been a long time since I've lived like this. In a city, I mean. I imagine I will need to employ somebody to construct what Fatin will need." He tilts his head at Boudica. "You said you have many animals. How do you accommodate them all?"

"You may need to do that, but.. you seem the sort of person who cares for his pet, and truly wants to make her happy. Which will not be lost upon Fatin, this I am certain." Boudica is quick to say quietly before chuckling, "I do have many - a cat, a mouse, the hognose snake, a saw-whet owl, and a rather large puffskein. " She hmms, then answers, "They each have their own special spot, and except for Newt's unhealthy obsession for Babayaga, my little mouse friend, they all get along fairly well. But this is home for them, and always has been for the most part." England, that is.

"I thank you for your advice, Ms. Burke." Amir pushes his chair out to rise. "I expect I'll be seeking out your clinic for further guidance. I'm glad to have met a professional, particularly one of such breeding and beauty."

As he rises, Boudica does as well, the smile never quite leaving her face, cheeks remaining somewhat pink, "I would welcome you and Fatin any time, Ambassador.. call or drop by if you'd like." She takes a moment to dig into her handbag to pull out a card with the information on it to hand over, "I should likely get back to my clinic for my afternoon appointments. Have a good day."

Amir receives the card with a polite bow and a smile. "Good day, Ms. Burke. May good fortune follow you."

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