Dennis Finnigan Creevey (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} dennisthebrave) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
Dennis nodded and grinned toothily at her, still a little embarrassed for being so utterly cavalier with the skeletons in his closet, and for not being over the whole damn thing. "I can appreciate that," he said with a serious nod, before furrowing his brow. "I mean, it would be a red flag for me where I in a relationship with you, but since that's not likely to be the case I reckon it's a fine attitude to have. The whole telling people up front, that is." He gave a little embarrassed cough and flushed again. "Sorry for brining it up," he apologised. "Every now and then I get verbal diarrhea and it just sort of burst out."
He whistled appreciatively. "Angel? Nice! Living in zone one would be fabulous, especially if as you say you're blending as Muggles, nice and easy to get around by tube if you have to." He smiled at her, though he couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was avoiding his gaze, or possibly keeping something from him. He surmised that to be living in Angel so soon after moving to the city that Genie was probably living on an estate, but he didn't think that was the cause for her shadiness. "Makes sense to me," he said with a nod. "All my siblings are and were magical, but our parents are Muggles so we have Muggle identities that we can trod out when it suits - I think you're just taking it to the next logical conclusion."
"Wow I really need to introduce you to Rose and Rolf, the result would be absolutely beautiful, or bloody and horrendous - depending on how you feel about Palahniuk-style situations I guess." he replied with a happy sigh. "There isn't always recognition of individual ownership vis-à-vis food."
"Oh man, at one of Angel's famous diners," he asked, his imagination and curiosity both firing off with the sought of sudden and inevitable intensity of a rocket chucked on a bonfire. "The Prophet's looking for copy editors and general support crew at the moment, so there could be something to help you?" He furrowed his brow again at the mention of camping, then shrugged. "Well I don't know, but I guess it'd be okay, especially if it was a part-time job?"