gawain robards (embattle) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-09-24 10:44:00 |
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Ignatius hummed to himself as he left his office and walked down the hallway towards the lift. Things were far from perfect, but they were on an upswing. It was still strange to feel in a mood where humming was appropriate but here Ignatius was anyway, continuing to hum as he waited. And then humming turned to grinning as the elevator opened, and he found himself looking at the familiar face of his dear classmate Gawain Robards. Sure, he didn’t think that Robards was terribly happy to see him, but that didn’t really matter. “Robards,” he greeted as he entered the lift. “Should I hold the door so you can make an excuse to run away like a scared child?” Of course. Gawain didn’t bother to hide his exasperation -- there was little point to do so these days -- and merely looked Travers in the eye. “Not at all,” he said simply, and gestured into the elevator carriage itself. He was not going to be intimidated by Ignatius Travers. Ignatius wouldn’t say so, but he might’ve been a tiny bit disappointed that Robards didn’t make a point of leaving the lift. He did enjoy being intimidating, but then again, who didn’t enjoy an elevator ride? “You always were stubborn, I suppose. After all, you’re still insisting on being here despite the wide recognition of the worthlessness of your profession.” The doors closed with a little ding. “I suppose we have something in common, then,” Gawain admitted begrudgingly. “You were told for decades how worthless your life choices were and yet here we are.” “Was I? I don’t bother paying attention to gnats buzzing in my ear. And when I do pay attention to them, it’s only to squish them out of existence,” Ignatius dismissed easily as he casually crossed his arms over his chest. Gawain merely looked a cross between bored and unamused. “How poetic. I never knew you were concealing that talent.” His eyes flicked to the buttons. “Are you done trying to puff up your chest? You have a floor to select.” With a roll of his eyes and the air of being tremendously put upon, Ignatius reached out and pushed the appropriate button. “I’ve been trying to decide how long I think it’ll be before you find yourself out of the Ministry for good. As well as how I think it’ll happen. What do you think? Will you simply snap in the face of your own ineptitude? Kill a few of your favourite coworkers in a blind rage when you find life just too overwhelming? Or perhaps you’ll simply be caught in a moment of idiotic vigilantism.” “Seems quite unlikely on all fronts.” Gawain’s arms folded across his chest in such a way he could feel his Auror-grade wand holster. All it would take is a flick of his wrist if this came down to it. Instead, Travers wanted to talk. “I’ve no love for vigilantism anymore than I do dark wizards.” He fixed his gaze back on his former classmate. “Did you get the options no one else wanted in the pool, Ignatius?” “I wouldn’t say that. And there’s no need to look so tense, Gawain. Are you not enjoying having a chat among old friends?” A grin spread across his face, entirely too amused. “The boring answer of you up and flouncing out the Ministry and dying sad and alone in your bed from sheer lack of purpose just wasn’t any fun.” “Charming as always.” Despite his sheer force of will to not give Travers the satisfaction of looking tense, his jaw was tensed. Mostly, Gawain simply wanted to slug the cocksure Death Eater sharing the elevator carriage with him as a point that they were not lying down and rolling over. “No, you always looked for amusement, didn’t you?” “Not always. There’s a time and a place for efficiency. But I’ve had quite a few years to be extremely bored, Gawain. So, perhaps, I’m prioritising amusement now.” Ignatius shifted his weight, uncrossing his arms to let one hand tap lightly against the wall of the lift. “I’ve been quite enjoying my time here at the Ministry.” Gawain wasn’t surprised the Death Eaters that had escaped were parading around like peacocks, but that didn’t make it any less grating. He’d actually prefer dueling them in deadly situations to this. Making small-talk in elevators? ‘Hard pass’ he believed the phrase these days were. “Perhaps, yes,” the ex-Auror answered dryly as the elevator thrummed along to its destination while taking far too long for Gawain’s patience. “I bet. How is dear Pius doing?” “I daresay he’s the best Minister we’ve had in a long time,” Ignatius said, practically daring Gawain to disagree. He didn’t doubt that he did, of course, but it was interesting to see the when and where people chose to be mouthy. It was always a laugh when they tried to be provoking. “Naturally,” Gawain answered dismissively. “I can’t say I’m surprised given what he seems to be doing for you.” “It’s not what he’s doing for me, Gawain,” Ignatius answered smugly, even though it absolutely was. “It’s what he’s doing for us all.” As if on cue, the elevator ground to a halt, its doors beginning to open. “I really did miss conversing with you, Gawain.” Gawain snorted derisively at ‘for us all’. Nonetheless, before he could get another word in on the subject the doors had opened, and his former classmate-turned-Death Eater was taking his leave. “It was a peaceful sixteen years, Ignatius.” Ignatius walked out of the lift, but he turned and placed a hand in the doorway to prevent it from closing. “Yes, Gawain. I hope you enjoyed them, because now it’s our turn.” Satisfied with the last word, he turned again and hummed as he walked away. |