it's only a game

[truemask]

[Who:] Lucius Malfoy, Sylar
[What:] A discussion on the state of play takes place.
[When:] Early Week 6
[Where:] Stadium; East Gallery
[Warnings:] Nada, will update as needed.

Comments

[truemask]

There is little comical about much, in this place, although Lucius does find irony.

Daily.

The journey of tea mug to his mouth is paused at the sound of approach, lowered again, turning to see who's decided to join him for the view - that it isn't someone he recognises, not Johann or Ana, not Tseng or Snape, not even Granger, startles him imperceptibly. But there is something recognisably familiar about it as well - it does, in fact, remind him of himself when he'd first approached Ana Lewis on the day of his own arrival, drawn to her because she was both there and wielding authority and, possibly, answers. He had held the same defensive and silent coyote-wired approach as this young man, and it was a little disheartening to know that he was playing out Ana's role

[truemask]

"My name is Lucius Malfoy."

Rather than bid Sylar to move closer, Lucius has no issue with closing up a little distance himself - one must assume a degree of territory, and he does so so as best to note the mark he expects to be there. "Mr. Malfoy will do, if you please." If Lucius sees him as a threat, it's more marked in that he is not being outright antagonistic, only allowing for chilly reserve and demand. "And as for what I'm supposed to be, I've been assigned Third-in-Command of the illustrious Militant army of Zone Fifteen."

His tone is bone dry. "I'm sure the good doctor already offered you apology, so you'll forgive me if I refrain from repetition. You'll have questions, I suspect."