(no subject)

[manwithstyle]

The Clothing Box was a small matter of legend upon the Isle of Tabula Rasa. Indeed, to hear the story told, one could be forgiven if they assumed that the Clothing Box was a rather sadistic beast, complete with teeth and, possibly, glitter. In reality, however, it was small and innocuous. In fact, it was just a box, although it did reside on one of the lower levels which was cause for some suspicion in itself.

Albus did not much like the lower levels of the Compound and he avoided them whenever he could. Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. He'd been stranded for a few weeks now and his clothing was becoming frayed from repeated wearings. It was time, he knew, that he visited the box and began rebuilding his wardrobe in earnest.

When he entered the laundry room, he could feel the magic immediately. It was a different magic from that which he was accustomed but it was there; the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he smiled a wide genuine smile. Perhaps this wouldn't be as dreadful of an experience as he'd initially thought.

By the third dress, however, this opinion was thoroughly challenged. Frowning, he pulled out his wand and poked at the contents. Nothing happened, of course.

He sighed. "Toffee?" he asked the box warily.

Its only response was another dress.

"I thought not."

Comments

[manwithstyle]

The silence was curious, but Albus did not comment on it just yet. "Likely so," he said, eying Bartemius as he did so. "I was always invited under the expectation that I would discover some magical break-through by the time everyone had finished their hors d'oeuvres." Being extraordinary, he thought, was as tiresome as full-time employment.

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"I was always attached to my father," Barty said, "under the expectation that I would somehow, through the course of the evening, make him proud, which was code for make him look good."

[manwithstyle]

"Forgive my asking but did you and your father get along?" he asked canting his head slightly as if to better hear whatever response awaited him.

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"Oh," Barty said lightly, eyebrows lifting, "no. Not at all. Not since I was old enough to speak. Not even a little bit."

[manwithstyle]

Albus laughed melodiously. "It is such a shame that we cannot choose our relations," he said, shaking his slightly as he pulled out a rather extraordinary looking corset. "As it is also a shame that this box thinks me nothing but a common Muggle whore." He made a small sound of disapproval and tossed it aside. "Perhaps it is my hair?" he directed the last bit at Bartemius and offered him a wry smile.

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"Well, my hair is straw colored, not red, but it hasn't tried to dress me up like a harlot yet, so it's difficult to say if the box holds some particular prejudice in that regard," Barty said with a grin and a shake of his head, pushing his hand through said short hair so it fell away from his forehead.

[manwithstyle]

"Your hair is also short," he remarked, bring forth his own hair so that it laid on his shoulder in a curtain of auburn curls. "I imagine that that is the fashion in your era?"

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"Well, the proper one, yes," Barty said, with a twitch of a grin and a small glance at the fall of Albus's hair. "It's quite popular to have your hair a sort of shaggy, shoulder length, but it was popularized by Muggles, so of course none of my acquaintances have anything to do with it."

[manwithstyle]

"Of course," he agreed with a knowing sort of smile. After all, why would any self-respecting wizard be slave to Muggle fashion? He pushed back his hair before returning to his search for decent clothing. "I must seem horribly out of date to you," he remarked casually.

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"No," Barty said with a smile, "'horribly' would imply it's in some way displeasing. To be honest, your manner seems very much unchanged, so I'm somewhat used to it, and beyond that..." He pulled out a plain enough button down shirt that was an unfortunate hue of pale salmon, but accepted it with a shrug and set it aside for Albus's use, if he so chose.

"I you are so dated, then you must have been well ahead of your time."

[manwithstyle]

"A 'revolutionary' the Prophet called me," said Albus fondly, much in the way a parent might talk about their children. "I do believe I am inclined to agree."

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

Barty nodded a little and smirked, barely.

"They had you pegged from the start, then."

[manwithstyle]

"Something like that," he agreed with his own little smile.

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"Perhaps visionary is somewhat more apropos than revolutionary," Barty observed, standing and moving to the washing machine as it buzzed the ugly little alarm that meant it was finished, and started changing the clothes over into the dryer.

"Or at least offers more career longevity."

[manwithstyle]

"If your vision of my future is accurate, career longevity is hardly a pressing matter," said Albus lightly. He took his small pile of folded clothes and stood before making his way to the noisy Muggle contraption that he assumed washed clothes.

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"True enough," Barty sighed, flipping open the washer top for Albus to deposit his clothing and sliding the detergent toward him.

"Funnily enough, it isn't one for my future, either, but in the opposite way."

[manwithstyle]

Albus was good at many things and pretending that he knew how to perform a task when he in fact did not was one of them. Mimicing the earlier actions of Bartemius, he managed well enough, the detergent poured into the correct receptacle and the clothes placed loosely in the machine, though he did internally bemoan the lack of magic. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked, thinking the statement most curious indeed.