hisdarkmark | Thirty-Fourth Hex [Voice/Action]

[Draco Malfoy was starting to go a bit stir-crazy. After four straight days of snow, then cold, then more snow, and more cold, he had realized that staying in the confines of House 25 wasn't doing him any good. Hence today he's decided to head to the Battle Dome and test his programming skills. He's gotten pretty good at it, he likes to think.

When his journal clicks on, anyone viewing it will get a good glance of the front of a large manor.]

So...you really can recreate anything, can't you. [He's going to go ahead and walk down the path toward the front door of the house, and as he enters into the front hall he's going to continue talking to the village at large. This may just be a test to see if he can continue communication inside a simulation.]

How are the rest of you coping with the snow we've received over the last few days? I'd like a few back-up plans in case this doesn't serve to satisfy. At least when it was warm I could fly a bit, but this is starting to get ridiculous.

[And he's going to turn down the halls, wandering through the maze that is the manor with the ease of someone so familiar with the area. There are the sounds of other footsteps behind him, but if he hears them he doesn't seem to care.]

What's next, anyway? They've left us alone for a while...may as well start to prepare for something big to come. What are the chances they've grown bored with us? New Feathers. You might be the next targets. You ought to have a fair warning.

[His attention's drawn away from the journal then as the footsteps stop, and he finds himself facing a masked figure.] I was wondering when you'd turn up. [And he's withdrawing his wand, closing the journal. Though the picture's no longer available, the last thing heard is the sound of a spell firing off and ricocheting around the room.

[Though he'll stay in the chamber for the full allotted hour, he will be taking a break between enemies appearing and after his hour's up to answer anyone who's contacted him via journals. People are also free to find him in the main lobby of the Battle Dome as well after his simulation's over.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Giles normally isn't a dragon, unfortunately. [Yes, that's the first thing he clears up.] And she's not that much of a mother hen. It could be far worse.

As for Helios, well, you must not be used to magic.

From what I understand of him, no.

...

Magic is entirely fictitious in my world. There is slight of hand, smoke and mirrors, Hollywood magic but actual spells that do anything other than make the caster feel smug that they might have possibly changed something? It does not exist.

Then your world sounds incredibly primitive, not to mention boring.

Yes, because advances in technology could never, ever compare with the wondrous and dignified strides made bay men chanting while burning herbs or waving a wand about.

You've obviously never met a Mediwizard. Potions aren't always used.

Whatever it is they do it's far more effective than some of the more holistic medicines touted in my world. The scorn was not for whatever hypothetical methods there are in yours, but rather for an unpleasant individual I've met and was forced to work around before.

Well. Is said unpleasant individual here?

If they are I reserve the right to mock him viciously for his foolishness. Then again I would do that in my own world as well.

You have a somewhat miserable life, don't you?

No more than most, though it is probably much less than others here. Giles, I know for certain, has had many more difficulties than I have experienced. It's possible you have as well, if the odd familiarity you expressed at the...death eater, you called it? Is any indication.

The Death Eaters are none of your business. Giles is an indication, but your general mannerisms and how many people you seemingly dislike are a good indicator.

I apologize, I meant no offense. I simply inferred that your familiarity with them betrays some form of trouble in your own life, not to inquire as to that association.

No one likes a surgeon. Not really, they are grateful to them, but no one likes them.

There's no trouble in my life.

Does that bother you?

For that I am grateful.

Not entirely. After some time one becomes accustomed to almost anything. Solitude and scorn? It does not trouble me.

Then I suppose you're set.

...if you would indulge my curiosity a moment? The manor you were moving through, where was that?

England. [Technically Wizarding Britain, but, same thing.]

Allow me to be more specific, yes? What is that manor?

My home, if you really must know.

Most surgeons and physicians are notoriously curious, you should know.

Your home? It is quite spacious and grand; lovely.

I try not to make it a habit to know surgeons and physicians on a personal basis.

Thank you. The Manor's been in our family for generations.

See? No one likes Surgeons. At least not until we are sewing their fingers back onto their palms, then they love us.

The architecture is unlike any I have seen before, and all the more fascinating for it. French manors are more...ostentatious? Yes, that is the word.

I don't know if 'love' is quite the right word.

I suppose it helps that it's not Muggle-made. We're much more creative than that.

Are mildly less likely to insult us to our face, I suppose. I do not know if there is an English word for this.

'Muggle'? I do not know that word. It is some kind of slang, yes?

Tolerate might be a decent place to start.

Something of the sort. It's common in our world, actually, but most Muggles don't know what a Muggle is until it's explained to them.

[Written]

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