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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 20, 2011 23:02:50 GMT -5
Eleanor didn't often go to clubs. It wasn't that she didn't like them, because she did. And she wasn't entirely shy, either. But she didn't like to go alone, and Nora didn't really like clubs. Besides, being broke and unemployed, she didn't really have the money to go out often. Sure, she could usually get in just by flirting with the bouncers, and she could get guys to buy her drinks. But she also liked to look good, and she didn't have a lot of money to buy nice clothes. But the new advertising deal they had worked out with Sedriella Fashions had resulted in some pretty new dresses for both her and Nora. And so she had managed to convince Nora to meet her at Spellbound for a night on the town.
But of course Nora was late. Eleanor had been waiting nearly half an hour at this point, and she was getting bored. There was a really hot guy at the other end of the bar who kept buying her drinks and making eyes at her, and Eleanor was sorely tempted to accept his invitation to join him at the other end.
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 20, 2011 23:13:20 GMT -5
Yes, Trevor was a cad. He'd told Celia that he was out on "business" for the evening, when really he had come to the club. He knew she'd never even look for him here, because he always avowed his hatred of cheesy nightclubs like Spellbound. And it was true, he preferred the more refined things in life. But sometimes, he liked to slum it just a little, to drink the heavier scotch instead of airy champagnes and fine wines. He thought of Celia as a fine wine... and sometimes he just wanted something more basic.
Of course, there was nothing basic about the striking brunette at the other end of the bar. She reminded him of Celia in some ways, aside from the dark hair. But Celia had been at the bottom when he'd found her, picked her up, and began his long con on her. She'd always had that look of someone meant for better things. This brunette had that same look about her.
His goal tonight wasn't to cheat on Celia. He would not be bringing the brunette home with him, as tempting as it sounded. But he could have a little fun with her, at least. If only she'd stop giving him those innocent, coquettish smiles and come over to talk to him.
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 21, 2011 21:15:29 GMT -5
Eleanor was already finishing her second drink. And according to the "Nora" hand on her watch, Nora was still in her dark room. If she waited much longer for her, she'd be drunk and would probably end up doing something she regretted with the guy at the other end of the bar, just because he was cute and kept paying for her drinks. If she went over now, she reasoned, at least she would still have her wits about her and would be able to avoid making any mistakes. Or so she thought.
Catching sight of the man once again, she smiled in response to his beckoning look. Taking a last sip from her glass of wine, Eleanor bit her lower lip and then slid down from her barstool, walking over to the man.
"I guess I should thank you for the drinks," she began, giving him her best "coy" look.
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 21, 2011 22:02:33 GMT -5
Trevor broke into a charming smile and tipped an imaginary hat to her. "I was certainly hoping you would," he replied, adding a little extra emphasis to his Irish accent.
Up close, the girl was even more lovely. She had shining green eyes that were set against pale white skin and thick dark hair. She had intelligence behind those eyes, but also a certain vulnerability, like she wasn't quite sure where she belonged. Yes, Trevor knew how to read people, and he never hesitated to use it to his advantage. It was why he was so good at what he did.
"Please. Have a seat," he said, nodding to the empty stool next to him.
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 21, 2011 22:37:20 GMT -5
Eleanor eyed him with a cool expression on her face. He was handsome, and even though she herself was Irish, she had to admit that the accent was very attractive. But she didn't want to let him know that she found him appealing. She was no delicate flower to just fall into a man's arms because he bought her a couple of drinks and smiled at her across the room. She could control this situation, or so she thought.
"You're Irish," she replied, allowing her own accent to slip in just slightly. "So am I. I"ve been in England so long that my accent has faded."
She raised her eyebrow at him as he invited her to sit with him. Right, like she was just going to fall for that so easily.
"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly. I'm waiting for a friend. And I never sit with strangers. I just wanted to say thank you."
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 21, 2011 22:55:08 GMT -5
Oh, this one was a fiesty one. This was fine with Trevor, because it would make it more fun when he put the girl under his control. If she was already meek and submissive, there wouldn't be much of a challenge to it.
"Ah, well, it's always good to meet another from the land of Erin," he said, winking at her. "I'll admit, it's been a while since I've been back home meself, but I never like t' forget me roots."
That, of course, was a bald-faced lie, but she didn't need to know that. He worked very hard to forget everything about his past. He'd come from humble beginnings, and he'd always known he was destined for better. He only kept the accent because Brits found it exotic and interesting, and it helped him in his work.
"Well, my name's Trevor, so now I'm not a stranger anymore. If your friend's not here yet, why not sit with me for a while, until he gets here? Is it a he?"
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 21, 2011 23:29:28 GMT -5
Eleanor recognized his type. Oh, he'd play all cute and charming, but he was a cad, for sure. He'd flirt with her, make her laugh, and get her just drunk enough that she'd forget that she didn't want to go home with him. If he asked her out, that would be different.... it meant he was actually interested in getting to know her. But she was pretty sure he was not looking for a date. And she was not going to be that easy.
"I'm Eleanor," she said. "But just knowing each others' names doesn't mean we're not strangers. All I know about you is that your name is Trevor, you're Irish, and you like to play up your accent because you think it'll impress women. But I'll tell you what. My friend's still not here, and since I was getting bored down there by myself, I can sit with you for a while, just until she gets here."
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 24, 2011 23:25:13 GMT -5
Trevor smothered a smile as he dipped into an over-exaggerated formal bow. "Well, my lady, it would be an honor to share your company for a spell and to entertain you whilst you wait. Here, let me assist you into your seat."
He held out a hand to her, offering to help her up onto the empty stool. Once she was comfortably seated in the stool beside him, he sat back down on his own stool and waved the bartender over once more. "Another martini for me, and another glass of wine for the lady, if you please."
As the bartender went off to prepare their drinks, Trevor turned sideways to face her, leaning one elbow against the top of the bar. "So, your friend is a girl, then? Does that mean you're not seeing anyone?"
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 24, 2011 23:56:24 GMT -5
"Not necessarily," Eleanor said airily, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I didn't say I wanted another drink, either."
No, she was determined not to make this easy for him... she wasn't just some cheap hussy that would fall into a man's arms. She'd accept this drink, but she would sip it slowly and not finish it.
"Anyway, it's none of your business if I'm seeing anyone. We're still strangers, remember? Maybe you sghould start telling me a little more about yourself, so I know you're not just some creepy stalker who preys on innocent women in clubs. What do you do? You do have a job, right?"
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Post by Trevor King on Oct 29, 2011 22:41:06 GMT -5
Trevor smiled his most charming smile. She thought she was in control of the situation, that she was being smart. But by playing coy, she was actually revealing the truth of the matter--that she was interested. Not that Trevor was actually interested in the girl except as a means to an end... but if she had acted completely indifferent to him, he would have moved on and found another mark.
"If I promise I'm not a creepy stalker, I'm just going to sound like I really am one, aren't I?" he replied smoothly. "And we're just having a conversation here, until your friend gets here. There's no harm in that, is there? But since you asked, yes, I do have a job. I guess you could call me a... finder of lost objects. Is that respectable enough for your tastes?"
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Oct 29, 2011 23:12:28 GMT -5
"I don't know," Eleanor said in a lofty tone. "It sounds rather vague, if you ask me. Like you could just be saying that you're actually a thief and you're trying to make it sound respectable."
She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, as if trying to make sure he wasn't secretly picking her pocket as he spoke to her.
"Why don't you give me an example of something you found? Do you rescue lost kittens from trees, or do you 'liberate' lost jewels from museums? And are you an independent contractor, or do you get paid by the same person on a regular basis?"
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Post by Trevor King on Oct 30, 2011 21:54:18 GMT -5
Trevor laughed. "So many questions... Do you always give the third degree to everyone who wants to have a conversation with you?" he teased. "Honestly, look at this face? Don't I look like an upstanding citizen to you? Mostly I find people who are lost... kind of like a detective. I bring families back together."
Yes, he was lying through his teeth, and she'd hit it pretty close to the mark when she suggested he might be a thief. But hadn't he just recently found Pavel Novak's "lost" wife and daughter? So he wasn't exactly lying, was he?
"What about you? What do you do? Or am I not allowed to ask questions yet?"
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Oct 30, 2011 22:46:04 GMT -5
"You're a bit defensive," Eleanor replied, raising an eyebrow at him, but her lips curved up in a small smile. If he was telling the truth (and she was by no means convinced that he was), then she had to admit that detectives were kind of appealing. And so was he. But she still wasn't ready to let go, just yet. She believed she had the control in this situation, and that all she had to do was walk away if she didn't like something about him.
"But I'm sorry. Maybe I ask too many questions. You probably weren't expecting the Spanish Inquisition. Anyway, the truth is, I don't have a job right now... I've just been doing some modeling for my friend... she's a photographer."
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Post by Trevor King on Nov 7, 2011 23:26:04 GMT -5
"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," Trevor replied with a smirk, unable to help himself. Shaking his head, he added, "Sorry, that's from Monty Python... a muggle comedy show. Never mind."
Forcing his mind back to the matter at hand, Trevor looked the girl over in silent appraisal. He had chosen her simply because she looked vulnerable, but he was almost tempted to let her go now. A Ministry employee would certainly have been better. There wasn't much of a strategic advantage in an out-of-work model. But, he reminded himself, this wasn't necessarily about strategic advantages. It was about creating fear.
"Well, I'm sure you'll be great at it," he replied.
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 13, 2012 22:15:55 GMT -5
"I know what Monty Python is," Eleanor said, her tone a bit annoyed. "I was raised by a muggle."
Eleanor eyed him suspiciously over the lip of her glass. He seemed so slick and clever, and it concerned her a little. As much as she tried to believe she was worldly and tough, she knew deep down, she was a little bit sheltered. Even though her mother had been a witch, Eleanor had not grown up with her. She had been raised by her muggle grandmother, so she wasn't quite as aware of things as she would have liked. Just what did this guy want from her, anyway?
"I'm surprised you know about Monty Python, actually," she continued, attempting to feel him out a bit. "Most wizards don't. Are you muggle-born?"
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 13, 2012 22:16:59 GMT -5
He wasn't fooled by her tactic, but he decided to indulge her. After all, he didn't want her to get suspicious before he could put his plan into action. She seemed a bit naive, but she wasn't stupid, either. A girl who looked like she did probably had to be fairly good at reading guys, if only to protect herself from the bad ones. The guys like him.
"No, I'm not. I'm a pureblood. But I have no problem with mixing with muggles and muggle-borns. You miss a lot when you limit your society like that. Your parents were muggles?"
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 13, 2012 22:18:47 GMT -5
"No," she answered quickly, before she realized she probably shouldn't have. "I mean, I don't exactly know. My mother was a witch, I know that much, but I'm not sure who my father was. And my mother ran out when I was little, leaving me with my grandmother."
She closed her mouth quickly, realizing that she'd probably said too much. He hadn't asked for her sad life story, and she didn't usually like to talk about it. Why did it seem so easy to talk to this man, even though she didn't entirely trust him?
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 13, 2012 22:20:04 GMT -5
"That's sad," Trevor said, looking appropriately sympathetic. But in his mind, he was doubting his choice again. She was poor, unemployed, and had no connections to speak of. Controlling her wouldn't really gain him much advantageously. But that wasn't really the point. The point was to create fear and suspicion. And maybe he could find a way to use her anyway.
She was nearly finished her drink, so he flashed her a charming smile. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, holding his hand out to her. "I'm sure your friend won't mind, especially since she's kept you waiting so long."
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Post by Eleanor Walsh on Aug 13, 2012 22:20:38 GMT -5
Eleanor hesitated. She supposed that no harm could come to her in a room full of people, right? And he really did seem nice enough, if just a little too good to be true. He didn't dwell on her story about her mother, but he didn't completely blow her off, either. Surely it would be all right to just dance with him for one song. Nora probably would understand.
"Well.... OK," she said at last, setting her glass down on the counter. "Just one."
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 13, 2012 22:23:04 GMT -5
Luck was definitely on his side that night, because as she placed her hand in his, a slow song started up. They didn't play a lot of slow songs at the club--there were other places that people could go for romantic dancing. But every once in a while, they threw one in. And Trevor knew that, if he had only this one dance with Eleanor, he was going to have to make it count. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was sweep a lady off her feet.
He led her to the dance floor, just managing to refrain from bowing to her (which she surely would have thought of as laying it on too thick). There was an awkward moment, where they fumbled for positioning (he did it on purpose, of course) and laughed lightly about it. Then, finally, with one arm around her waist and the other behind her neck, they began to move to the music.
Trevor was a good dancer. It was something he'd practiced well, and of course, he danced often with Celia. What started as a gentle swaying became a bit more intimate, more seductive. He could see Eleanor's face flush, first embarrassed, then something more.
At the end of the dance, he dipped her down, then kissed her dramatically, like a kiss from an old-time movie.
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