#thread;malcolm

[tonks-ted]

Starter for: Malcolm Parkinson @themalcolmparkinson Where: one of his buildings When: afternoon

Malcolm Parkinson was on Ted's radar. Truthfully, he'd never left it, not since Parkinson Sr had been imprisoned. Ted had been a Junior Auror at that point, only marginally involved in the case against him. But it had been his first case, and he had a morbid fondness for the whole thing, recalling every detail with the sated attention of a Ravenclaw who'd just consumed a bowl full of delicious knowledge. So when the name crossed his desk again, he took the assignment for himself. Months had passed. His case file had grown. He was convinced that Malcolm was involved in something shady - for once, a mere basic criminality rather than the usual wartime horrors. In a strange way, it was almost refreshing to be dealing with something that only involved gold, not blood, gore and torture.

Nonetheless, he wasn't sure what exactly was going on. He had his suspicions, but they were not yet proven. It was very difficult to track financial wrongdoings when people were stinking rich and gold was physical coins. Still, he deemed it time to visit Parkinson for a friendly little chat. So after trailing him for a week or so, here he was, after having gained an idea of his movements. It was an odd building. Not much in it, bare and with a distinct odour that betrayed the fact that there were not many windows.

Pausing on the threshold, he knocked, waited a moment, then spoke. "Hello, Mister Parkinson." A brief smile, without friendliness. This was professional and nothing more. "Do you have a few moments for Ministry business?"

[r-lestrcnge]

As Rabastan waited for Malcolm to repeat the words, he vaguely wondered what was ticking in his head. Probably not much, and that was part of his absurd charm. "I am not making deals. It simply would have been detrimental to refuse." Having clarified, he finished his snack and reached for another, catching sight of Alecto over Malcolm's shoulder. "No, I didn't think about that. But the advice still stands. If they've harmed you, own it or rectify it. See you later, Malcolm. I need to talk to Alecto."

End.

"You're at Serra's birthday party for your own business and social purposes?" he repeated back to him, this time slowly to make sure he wasn't missing anything. Malcolm rolled his eyes, not knowing how some people didn't know how to turn off the shop talk. "I really hope you score a business deal with her nine-year-old third cousin," he said vapidly, tilting his drink back. "Just because I need to talk to them about something doesn't mean I did anything wrong. Maybe they did something wrong. Ever think about that?"

[ihaveatypeanditstrickstergods]

There's a decently high possibility that Sean Finnerty and Malcolm Trills could have met during the war.

They were doing the same thing.

[wardensantoineandevka]

between the Trapp family and the Trills family, what is with the old money families of Newfaire and Tr— names

[concentratedbitterness]

[[Continued from X ]] @ghoulishundertakings "Absolutely not, it's funny. Endearing really, I think." She said, no longer standing on the long line of top of the mausoleum, but standing next to him, the bottle of gin outstretched for him to take. A shared favorite of theirs. "But, besides that, I was already out here. It's not usually a problem time, surprising enough, but I like to be out of the house if I'm needed. This," she tapped the ground with the heel of her shoe, "place is on a leyline, makes it easy to get to just about anywhere." The cemetery is unnecessary these days, she can get about the city itself as easily as breathing, but it is a time honored spot. The spot of their first meetings, official and otherwise. Those times were somber, blurry things. The memories of someone hearing things from underwater, and from cleaning the muddy river from her eyes. This is better. It's carnival season, the weather is cool if not cold. She can hear the din of revelers walking towards Krewe De Vieux carried to where they stand. It's not their usual cemetery, certainly nowhere close to the large family tomb in Old Metairie, but it's close to the action and she can walk to Royal when she wants. She looks like a woman dressed for the occasion, shining like she's painted herself in glitter, there a lights in her hair. If he got close, he'd see the lightning bugs crawling there, and the glitter is simply freckles she's gone and changed. She's old school for the clothes, the old standby of her youth, a white shirt with three colored stripes of purple, yellow and green and suitable pants and shoes. "I don't guess you're here for the party, though, are you? No offense, but you got that...look about you -- what's got you in knots today? If you say the end of the world, though you will have to get specific quickly."

*****

She moves with the fluidity of an apparition; from here to there and back here again as though she's merely some trick of the light. He's used to it by now, or at least he ought to be, he tells himself as he reaches for the offered booze. This one's a halfway decent bottle, though it may as well be the cheap stuff, for all that it burns his throat on the way down. Not that it stops him from taking a second swig. "The leylines have leylines in this damned city, Lucy." Malcolm leans forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, bottle of gin cradled in his hands as he looks up at the redhead. That's not the reason they come to places like this to have conversations like these, and they both know it. A trumpet note whines clear through the cool night air; carried over on the breeze from one of the marching crowds. He hates this time of year in New Orleans. The sights, the sounds, the smell in the air--it all feels like regret. Clearly his companion doesn't share the sentiment. "Not tonight. You'll have to do the celebratin' for the both of us, I reckon'." Mal shakes his head, heaving a quiet sigh even as he raises the bottle for another pull. Might as well cut to the chase. "I'm goin' away for a while. Ideally only a couple weeks, but there's a fair to midlin' chance it's gonna' be longer than that." The prospect makes his stomach turn, but the alternative is worse. His teeth press lightly into his lower lip, and he holds out the bottle for her to take. He suspects Lucy knows what he's about to ask before he gets the chance to ask it. "Will you spend some time with Ig? Keep him company while I'm gone, and, well, y'know...keep him safe? I think it'd be good for him. Havin' you around. He needs that."

[theknifeinyou]

@retriibutions liked a starter call and gets alyson with malcolm

"You keep saying nothing's bothering you," the club owner said as she sat down next to him, tilting her head. "But that's your fourth drink in the span of a half hour. That leads me to believe that you're lying, Mr. Bright. Talk to me, pretend that I'm more than the owner of the place you're drinking in again."

[cigvrettedvet]

open to: f / nb muse: malcolm davis based on: classic friends to lovers beat

malcolm laughs, partly from amusement and also from nervousness. he didn't know where the question was suddenly coming from. nor did he think it'd be very wise to answer honestly. "do i like someone? come on, are we in the third grade or something?" he did though, and that person was right next to him - close and yet entirely out of his reach. "nah, i'm not really feeling anyone right now. why, is there someone you've been crushing on? 'cause ift here is, i bet i can guess who. i think i know your type pretty well."

[thirtecnth]

@ghostsbrokenbyfairytales / closed starter / malcolm reese setting: main street

Benjamin tried to crack his neck as they walked-- the stress from the many injuries of this place really beginning to tighten him up. Still, he raised a brow at what his best friend had said, honestly surprised.

"You're serious? You really went to that speed dating thing?" He asked, trying not to laugh as he threw an arm over the other's shoulders. "Now, why would you go put yourself through that kind of torment, Malcolm? Nobody actually meets anyone there. It's like a proven fact of life."

[beauaustinsinclair]

WHO: @malcohen LOCATION: Sons of Silence Clubhouse

Beau would be lying if he said he understood what Malcolm might be feeling after the truth about his sister was revealed, but having a family member be taken from your life so suddenly and in a traumatic way -- regardless of the cause -- was something he hoped few people would have to experience in their life. He'd seen Malcolm a few times since then, but he hadn't exactly known what to say then. Seeing Malcolm lingering in the clubhouse and with it being quiet for once, he figured that even if he didn't have the right words to say to bring any sort of comfort, sometimes just being there could be enough. "Hey," he greeted as he stepped into the kitchenette area, going to start a fresh pot of coffee. "You want some or are you a tea drinker?"

[ariana-cruz]

tag: @malcohen location: hex appeal

-

Stocking a shelf somewhere in the back of the store, Aria makes short work of it once she hears the chime of the bells on the door. At this time of day, it was usually just her regulars who dropped in. Near closing time was always the best time to get her alone for a chat, so seeing someone unfamiliar standing there? She couldn't help the tip of her head and curious brown eyes. "You're new," she half smiles, keeping it soft, welcoming, even. "Can I help you with anything or do you just want to look around?" Aria asks politely & whilst she doesn't mean to, her eyes briefly float to the side of him and narrow just slightly. Having just finished up a reading, she was still functioning on a high frequency which basically meant that she still had that spiritual door open. "Aria, by the way," pulling her eyes back to him, she smiles. "Owner, witch, local crazy woman.. Depends on your beliefs, but I'll answer to any of them."

[survivoirs]

"Am I bluffing or are you just 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 a lack of quality in your own hand?" Malcolm pointed out playfully with a bright smirk. He was enjoying himself. Generally if he set foot in a casino he was invited to leave if they recognized him. If not, it didn't take long sitting at the tables for him to be 'politely banned'. An annoying part of casinos wanting to keep their money was they didn't take kindly to people who could quite literally read the room. Of course Bright hadn't mentioned any of that to Clark. Beyond telling him he was pretty observant, he'd not gone into what he did for a living yet. It tended to put some people on edge and Malcolm was enjoying getting to know Clark more beyond just being a cool connection to him acquiring some great tips about antique weapon sales before they hit public auction.

"Because what I think, is you haven't touched your drink in over five minutes despite telling me earlier how much you like the vintage. The size of the pot certainly could be enough that your focus is just your priority but I think you're just hoping I'm bluffing so you can take this hand with the meager --- what --- two pair hand you have? Am I close? Or is it worse? Were you hoping for that last card on the table to be a queen of spades to complete your full house or is it in my hand completing my straight flush? If you're feeling confident in your hand, then call my bluff and go all in -- I am," he finished, cheerfully pushing in all of his packets of skittles and twizzlers into the center of his kitchen island top. @kxllerblond

[breakagain-writes]

@cherrysugcr

The whiskey in his hand was not strong enough to make this evening less than insufferable. While Malcolm enjoyed his work, the corporate world outside of making deals he found utterly dull. These little schmoozefests meant to make connections he could hardly stand. Only there from boss's orders. The only hint of a genuine smile came when his eyes spotted her. She was hard to miss, always looking incredible. So much so it infuriated him as much as he enjoyed looking at her. He gulped down the whiskey, carelessly putting the glass on the closest surface he could find. Malcolm made his way behind her, waiting for the right time to lean in so his lips were close to her ear. "Looking the way you do tonight I can't tell what you want more... To poach clients or get my attention."

[nxttheendxfthestxry]

"I don't know what the twins have done and I don't think I want to. Jessica is probably fine and maybe overwhelmed, so I'll give it a minute. Okay, that leaves Fergus. Where the hell is Fergus?"

[thefvrious]

@cannib4l said -> ❛ i don't smoke. ❜

"oh, shit, right, fuck." mac says, quickly putting the freshly-lit-one-drag-taken cigarette out on the bricks of the building, dropping it with a trembling hand before he's got both of them in his back pockets, exhaling the smoke up and away with an awkward smile. why's he got the worst luck? he meets a pretty girl and the first think he does is fuck it up. "sorry about that. nasty habit. been meaning to quit..."

[bargainsleuthbooks]

I only knew the broad outline of Malcolm X's life, and a new book explores the people and influences that led him to prison, where he reevaluated his life. Revew--> #Bookthreads #Booksky #BookBlogger #BookReview #MalcolmBeforeX #HighBridgeAudio #MalcolmX #PatrickParr #ALCReview #ARC #NetGalley

[brotherhoodwarlord]

Just tell Inara she looks pretty. Mal walked up to Inara and said, " Whore." Idiot.