Private Message to Rabastan Lestrange

[alt_crouch_jr]

You all right, then?

Your reflexes are still impressive, Raz. Unless you're a lot less inebriated tonight than you appear. And if that's the case, then I want to talk you into a change of profession: that was a masterful display of drawing and then wrong-footing your opponent.

Your skills are wasted, teaching children.

Comments

[alt_rabastan]

Where've you been all night? Watching from the shadows, I spose. I think Miss Peel is going to be disappointed.

Trust Stints mates saw him home with no further injury. Or drama.

I would say you overestimate, but I'm sober enough to know your compliments don't come lightly.

[alt_crouch_jr]

Peel knew what she had on her hook the other night. She's been sniffing around the trainees since they started. I told her to take her custom to Pseudonymity if that's what she's about--and to stay out of Dish! if she knows what's good for her.

Sorry to have been scarce. I was there more on business than to enjoy the social glitter. Or the auction.

You did the other bidders a service, though, when you took Stint off the floor. Wonder how much he spent? Competitive git.

Well-chosen hex, too: shut his gob impressively.

[alt_rabastan]

I figured as much. Course, Pseudonymity costs a fat sack of galleons while she might've had the trainee at a discount.


Cheers. Reckon he'll be thinking of me when his elf feeds him through a tube this week? I confess that in the clear but hangover-tinged light of morning I'm regretting such public display. Nothing good can come of it.