InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "WAIT! WHAT!?"

dh_marcus (dh_marcus) wrote in darkesthour_rpg,
@ 2008-02-17 21:55:00

Entry tags:

complete, february 2008, marcus flint, terence higgs

RP: How Are The Criminals These Days?
Date and Time: February 17, 2008
Characters: Marcus Flint, Terence Higgs
Location: Higgs household, Wales
Private/Public: Private
Rating: PG
Warnings: possible language - it's Marcus
Summary: Marcus visits a friend and discusses business
Completion: Complete

Barristers. How the world, both wizarding and muggle, needed them. And how much Marcus despised them. They take your hard earned money to do what a monkey could, then bill you twice for their mistakes. Vultures, the bloody lot of them.

Even as Marcus stepped up to knock on the door that belonged to Terence Higgs, he couldn't help but wonder just which client it was that paid for the velvet curtains that adorned Terence's windows. The house was a modest one, set in a rural area of Wales, but one could tell that no lower class family lived there.

As the door opened, Marcus inclined his head a bit and smirked.

"Terence. How are the criminals these days? Wealthy, for your sake," he drawled as his friend greeted him.

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dh_terence
2008-02-18 03:13 am UTC (link)

Terence had been in the den, cursing loudly as he threw down the latest Quidditch column in the Evening Prophet with disgust. Yet another columnist raving about Oliver Wood and his fucking Puddlemere United players. Yet another columnist referring to the Magpies as 'a mediocre team.' Yet another columnist claiming the race for the Cup had become a two-team race. He had half a mind to storm down to Barnabus Cuffe's office right then and there.

There was a slight squeak as Brej, one of their house elves walked in. "Sir," her voice trembled. "Marcus Flint approaches. Shall Brej show him in?"

"Marcus, eh?" Higgs chewed on his lip for a moment. "No, I'll greet him at the door. Clean this mess up." He waved his hand at the papers he had flung. "Then fetch the bottle of the 1971 scotch from the cellar."

Terence waited a brief moment after Marcus' knock to open the door. "Flint," he said motioning the man in and extending his hand in friendship. "This is quite the surprise. And how many times do I have to tell you? They're not criminals until they're found guilty, which doesn't happen often. 'Persons of interest' is the more polite term."

He smiled, closing the door to the house. It was certainly more modest than his means, but that was because he didn't want to give off the impression of being a rich-snob so detached from ordinary wizarding life. Those folks not thinking ill of him was crucial to his future plans. And like most wizarding establishments, there was a good deal of magical enchantment to it.

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dh_marcus
2008-02-18 03:23 am UTC (link)

Shaking Terence's hand after stepping through the door, Marcus smiled congenially. "Higgs. I apologize for just showing up at your doorstep, but I dislike your office. I took a change - I'm surprised you aren't working on a Sunday," he observed.

With a 'hmph' at Terence's definition of his clients, Marcus raised an eyebrow. "I hate to burst that lovely rose-coloured bubble, Terence. My personal experience has it that the public will consider you a criminal until otherwise proclaimed by the courts. And even then, the label sticks well enough."

Marcus looked around as he was showed the inside of Terence's house, seeing a few noteworthy expensive pieces of artwork and the like decorating the interior. "So, Higgs. How's the wife? Still oblivious to your clandestine affairs?"

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dh_terence
2008-02-18 03:40 am UTC (link)

"I got home not too long ago, actually," he said as they walked through the entry way together. "I was able to get the work done earlier than expected and was looking forward to a quiet evening of reading about Quidditch. But, just like every other day of this season, the Prophet's Quidditch reporters have shown once more to be completely deft." He sighed. "But, I'm sure you didn't come all the way from London to hear me bitch about Quidditch."

"Yes it certainly does," Higgs said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder and guiding him into the parlour. "That's precisely why I have dedicated myself to seeing those things change. Which will hopefully be sooner rather than later. Shacklebolt's going to mess up real good."

"The wife is good. Still in the Voodoo Isles with the kids. They should be back sometime soon. Otherwise I suppose I should pop down there again for a weekend, which has the unfortunate side effect of meaning no work getting done." He sat down in a chair and motioned for Marcus to do the same. The fire place roared to life and Brej appeared with glasses and a bottle of scotch.

"Yes," Higgs said as Brej poured the liquor and brought them each a glass. "She remains oblivious of my clandestine affairs." All of them, he thought.

"What brings you here tonight?" He asked, wafting in a smell of the scotch, sighing with relief, then taking a sip.

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dh_marcus
2008-02-18 03:59 am UTC (link)

He snorted and rolled his eyes at the mention of Quidditch. "Anything that has to do with the Prophet will not get an unbiased report. Surely you should know that, Terence," Marcus remarked.

"As a matter of fact, you are correct. I haven't followed that sport in quite sometime, other than hearing about it passing." Marcus remembered bitterly on his banishment from the game. Not so much that he was no longer able to play pro, but more for the circumstances that were the reason why he couldn't.

Chuckling as Terence guided him into the parlour, Marcus then found a comfortable chair to sit in. "Still after Shacklebolt's throat, are you? That man has a tough skin to break through."

Grateful for his friend's hospitality, Marcus took the scotch with a nod and needed a large swallow after his friend's reference of the Voodoo Isles. "How long has she and the children been there? It's not the safest of areas to visit for only a woman and children," he frowned. His own chest tightened at the thought of his son. Marcus had all his available men he could afford on that matter.

"You know I've always wondered why you would stray from such a tasty treat as your wife is. Though, being a man myself I know just how it is to want to sample them all," Marcus remarked conversationally, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

Sighing, he rolled his eyes. "One of my employees got caught up in a bit of a tangle. Suspicion of practicing dark magic. Of course the charges are nonsense, but he does need representation and he is a valued member of my team." Marcus mostly employed muggles but he did have a few wizards in his little family - mostly for personal protection.

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dh_terence
2008-02-18 04:33 am UTC (link)

"Still, one can hope," he said shrugging. He knew his friend was right, but he just couldn't detach himself. He supposed he could always start following the American League. But, the Magpies weren't in America. It left with him with the problem of having to read the Prophet.

"I don't blame you, mate" he shook his head, still having a hard time accepting what had happened to Marcus and the unfair treatment he had received from the League. It was just another thing that needed changing.

Higgs took another drink. "Always am. And not just his, but all those who agree with him that might succeed him. People are just so bloody blinded to the ills he is wrecking because of how well the economy is doing."

He called for Brej again, this time requesting food. She returned with a tray of assorted finger foods.

"Not too long, just a few weeks." He nodded at his friend's concern. "Normally, I would be worried, too, but the property's in a small niche of other properties with like-minded owners. The security's just about as good as it is here on the manor." It was true, the security arrangements had cost nearly as much as the vacation home. "And if the rumors are true of recent violent acts against purebloods, they might even be safer down there.

Terence took a long pause of staring off to the side before answering. "Yeah," he said almost remorsefully. "I sometimes wonder that too. I mean, I love her. But, there are just times when I'm so stressed I just need a little something else..." He had long ago stopped trying to reconcile his conflicting desires. He would just have to hope that his predilection would die out before his wife found out. "But, I appreciate your confidence in this matter." He raised his glass in a toast to Marcus.

Higgs took a bite of the potted salmon while Marcus explained the purpose for his visit. "I'd suspect it doesn't help any that he works around Muggles. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to charge him with posing a risk to wizarding secrecy. That one's been popping up a lot lately." He took another bite. "Does he have any priors?"

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dh_marcus
2008-02-18 04:51 am UTC (link)

"Yeah, the last news I heard was when Puddlemere still beat out the Harpies even after that tosser Wood got knocked in the head during practice," Marcus said, leaning back and enjoying his drink. "Even consoled a Harpy that evening, which was a delightful surprise," he added, smirking when he thought about Angelina Johnson.

Rolling a mouthful of scotch in his mouth, enjoying the peaty flavour, Marcus shrugged and swallowed as Terence talked politics. "Can't say that I follow it much. Living amongst muggles for the past ten years will do that to you though. Fuck, I know more about the bloody muggle Queen than what goes on at the Ministry," he snorted, rolling his eyes.

"She isn't hard on the eyes at all, Terence. Nice arse too, and a great pair of tits. Yes, I've looked; bloody well hex me if you want, but I can appreciate a female's beauty without touching," Marcus smirked. "But I know about needing something else. It's not natural to be tied down to one woman for the rest of your life in my humble opinion." He grinned and raised his own glass to Terence. "Of course. I would hardly betray that confidence...without good reason."

Shaking his head, Marcus crossed his leg across the other at the ankle. "Clean as a white sheet. I always check my boys out before I hire them on. It's just the Ministry trying to put the squeeze on me again. They know Sean works for me."

Giving thanks to the house elf who brought him a plate of nibbles, Marcus listened as Terence talked about where his wife and children were staying. He nearly upset his plate when his friend remarked about pureblood attacks. "What rumors?" he demanded a bit sharply. This was not something he himself had heard. Marcus' blood began to simmer with finding out about something he should have been told by his contacts before having to hear about it from some posh barrister friend.

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dh_terence
2008-02-18 05:55 am UTC (link)

"Don't even get me started on that git," he waved his hand with disgust. He arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Do tell." He wondered if it was that feisty new seeker of their's. She was ravenous.

"That's part of the problem," Higgs said coolly. "When smart wizards like yourself don't pay proper attention we get stuck with Queensly."

He grinned like a schoolboy as Marcus described his wife. "I don't hex those that compliment me and mine." He raised his glass after Marcus. "That's why I trust you, Flint." Although, if you cross me, you'll wish you hadn't. But then, you know that, don't you.

"Who signed off on the notice? Or perhaps you know of some one else in the ministry that has it out for you but who has weight in the DMLE?" Higgs started mentally cross-checking those he thought might have something out for Flint with the names in the DMLE. He'd have to spend more time on this. "If we can figure out who it is pulling the proverbial strings, we might be able to put an end to this for good." Whoever it was, certainly had caused Marcus enough problems. No doubt it was some junior member trying to get noticed.

"There was some vandalism on the Greengrass wand shop a little while back. A few times at least," he recalled the others. "There have been whispers from around the country. Those with ties to Death Eaters have found themselves as the mercy of vandals. It's hard to get anything confirmed. The ministry doesn't appear to be doing much about it and I suspect the victims of these malicious hate crimes don't know who to turn to. But, again, these are just whispers. Although we know Daphne's shop was definitely vandalized."

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dh_marcus
2008-02-20 07:46 pm UTC (link)

Marcus grinned, sticking his tongue in his cheek when Terence prodded him about Angelina. "She's a hot piece of work for sure. Not on the team itself but a Healer for it. Very limber," he winked, then chuckled. "I think I have a new respect for the Healer type, to be honest."

He sighed and shook his head, knowing if he got Terence going on the subject there would be no end on the horizon. "How about I make you a deal. When his time in office comes up and you go against him, I'll fucking organize your political party?" Marcus offered, knowing that Terence would certainly take him up on that.

Marcus chuckled, taking a bit of some finger-sized pastry filled with cream cheese and crab meat. "Not many do, Terence. I don't know if that makes you wiser, or more gullible," he commented, raising his glass in turn. "Though if I ever tried anything on your wife, I'd be sure to let you watch," he added with a smirk.

Thinking, a name popped into his head when Terence asked about the notice. "Chester? Some bloke with the last name of Chester, I do believe. And if anyone had anything out for me, I'd know about it," Marcus said with confidence, thinking about his own mole that he had placed over there. "Though if you have any pull over there, I'd be interested in finding out anything my sources have yet to uncover."

Listening as Terence talked, Marcus tried to stay focus though his frustration was mounting. "Yes, I knew about the Greengrass shoppe. Daphne's kept me abreast about that situation and I've even assigned detail on herself and the shoppe in the meantime. I must have mistaken you - I thought you meant you knew of pureblood attacks in the Voodoo Isles," Marcus sighed.

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dh_terence
2008-02-21 01:13 am UTC (link)

Terence shrugged, never having been with a Quidditch Healer. "Then she must have been damn good if you respect her type now," he smirked.

"Well, we shall see. If that moment ever comes," he smiled. Terence knew he was still too young to be Minister, plus the next guy will have to clean up all of Shacklebolt's messes, and that frankly wasn't a task he favored. His time would come, though.

"My wife wouldn't let you, she is a capable witch." He smirked, in an almost sadistic kind of way.

"Chester?" He thought to himself for a good minute. The name didn't ring a bell. "I'll check into it and let you know what turns up."

He smiled, "Mistakes happen. Anyway, what else can I do for you tonight?" He held up the more. "More Scotch perhaps?"

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