Closed Bright Day on the Dark Side

[Rupert Cresswell]

Much as he didn't like it, Rupert's line of work meant he had long since adjusted well to unpleasant surroundings. It was hard to avoid them, when one dealt in unpleasant items. He had just finished a blessedly fruitful trip to Borgin and Burkes, picking up a particular necklace a client had asked him to break a curse on, and now he was headed home, warded box secure in his pocket. Before apparating home, however, Rupert had decided to take a small detour to the harbour, pick up some potion supplies while he was in town. Whistling to himself, he strolled down the alley, decidedly avoiding any of the more unpleasant doorsteps he passed.

 

[Violet Bellamy]

In her youth, Violet had been fearful of Bleak Street. It was a dark place for dark wizards, and sweet innocent girls didn't go in to dark alleys. She didn't fear the dark any longer. While she certainly wasn't a dark wizard by any means, she could not in good conscience say she was exactly above board, either.

Still, though, it had taken a lot of strength of conviction and character to get this damned music box from one of the less scrupulous traders in Bleak Street. Likely if she tided it up it would be worth a fortune. It was quite possibly cursed, of course, but as she oft repeated: caveat emptor.

She turned her head at the sound of whistling as she exited the store, and shook her head with a slight smile. "Well. Someone's cheerful in this blasted, miserable neck of the woods, aren't we?"

 

[Rupert Cresswell]

Working in such a niche field, it had never been terribly difficult for Rupert to recognise those in related careers, even people who operated in mostly different markets than his. Furniture was one of the easiest things to acquire, curse, and then send on its way after all. So when he heard someone addressing him, it only took a moment to recognise the person the voice was attached to. "Ms. Bellamy, charmed as ever." Rupert said with an easy smile, though he couldn't remember if he had ever actually spoken to the woman before. "One must seek to create cheer wherever one can, I find." He said lightly, approaching her. "Particularly in such a blasted, miserable neck of the woods. What brings you here?" Rupert knew it was hardly a polite question in places such as this, but he was curious as to how the woman would respond.

 

[Violet Bellamy]

There was always that momentary pause when someone recognized her. That split second of freezing up, which was utterly ridiculous when she was the one who'd started conversation. There was just that lingering fear that someone was going to catch her out for something in her past. Worst if it was expecting good things from her from her days at Hogwarts.

Then she remembered where she was, and was able to breathe again. No, nobody's going to police you here, of all places. And she realised who she was speaking to, looking him up and down, and relaxed in to a light smile.

"You must be the infamous Mr Cresswell." She emphasised the word 'infamous', but it was hardly malicious. She'd heard whispers of what he did and had come across his handiwork once or twice before. She should've been irritated by it but honestly she just had to be impressed. "A most noble of pursuits, indeed. One would think you're quite the philanthropist." Her smile twisted in to more of a smirk.

"Me? Oh, you know," she said, airily. "Acquiring certain inoffensive artifacts for jaded lovers to give as presents, which I certainly don't know anything about any...additional inclusions they may have. And yourself?"

 

[Rupert Cresswell]

Rupert chuckled lightly at how Violet addressed him, giving a small bow with a slight cheeky flourish. "At your service." He said as politely as possible, giving her his winningmost grin. "I have been accused of far worse." He teased lightly, slipping easily to the charming persona that had gotten him so far in life. Whether he needed something from someone in the moment or not, it never hurt to be effusively charming with anyone who might prove useful in the future. He chuckled lightly at her description of her aims, nodding in understanding. "Quite the noble pursuit." He said in agreement. "Curse-breaking brings me to this neck of the woods quite often, where better to find cursed artefacts in need of aid." Or fortification, he didn't add. No need to say so much at once.

 

[Violet Bellamy]

On one hand, she had the distinct feeling she couldn't trust this man as far as she could throw him. On the other, he was certainly charismatic, and she had the feeling they had distinctly similar lines of work. She'd had to call on curse-breakers a couple of times, for things far stronger than she could handle...but sometimes she was more inclined to turn a blind eye. Let the buyer beware. Or less of a blind eye and more of a wilfully covering her eyes and pretending not to see anything.

"My, you're quite the philanthropist, aren't you?" She beamed at him, lightly teasing. Of course people didn't flock to Bleak Street for altruistic goals - no doubt it was a lucrative endeavour for him. Not that she'd pry too much in to those details, that would be incredibly rude. "It is always intriguing the kinds of curses people will place on seemingly mundane objects. You certainly have to admire the creativity, if not the actions."

 

[Rupert Cresswell]

Rupert chuckled lightly at Violet's compliment, tipping an imaginary hat. Rupert certainly liked to think of himself as a philanthropist, doing what he could to make the world a better place for the people around him. If he made things a little worse for the cash benefit as well, well... that was just making sure he was compensated adequately. "I couldn't agree more." He said with an easy smile as she brought up the creativity of curses. Rupert liked to think he had a creative flair for them himself, not that he would be bringing that up so publicly. "It often requires quite creative thinking in return to deal with them. I once saw a comb that would turn the hair of whoever used it into thousands of tiny spider's legs - who on earth thinks of such a thing?" Rupert himself, of course.

 

[Violet Bellamy]

She blinked a couple of times, the mental image of hair turning in to spiders legs both completely horrific and yet grotesquely hilarious to her. "Oh, that's vile. How delightfully clever." A slight smile crossed her face at the thought - the vengeful side of her would've liked to have sold something like that to some of the nasty old women in town. How she could crow with laughter to herself at their vanity failing them so.

Of course, she was something of a nasty old woman herself at this stage.

"I am always rather impressed by the especially subtle," she found herself admitting, unthinkingly. "I once saw a lovely old grandfather clock that went forwards by about thirty seconds every single day. Drove the owners mad. Still worth a fortune, though." She would've liked to have been the one to curse it herself, but that was a little outside her wheelhouse. "Suspect a clock maker might have done it to drive up the repair business. Admirable, if entirely unscrupulous."