Pacing back and forth in a clearing has been Malva's newfound specialty these days, considering that's about the only thing she has been doing. After Cora confronted her regarding her daily routines that were somewhat quite 'disturbingly unhealthy' for someone like her, she had to go back through her records to see if people still believed her hiatus from the hospital was due to a transfer to Georgia. Apparently they still do and well, to say the Aspect of Magic was slightly relieved would be an understatement. She's been thinking about it since last night, the thoughts of returning to work as a pathologist there once again has been bugging her head. A little voice in her told her she should resume her work as one, maybe that could get her head away from some things that has been doing nothing but bring doubt and reluctancy to her. Whilst it was just as important as others, she was leading an unhealthy lifestyle, so much her younger sister had to shook her out of the state.

She still spent her time working on to retracing some trails back, but it's going to be slightly minimal due to her working commitment. She can't agree that performing autopsies and cutting people's bodies open was the option she opted for, to take her mind off things, but she wasn't being picky or choosy. And yet she has been doing nothing but pace around since last night. Her tendency to block things out and endurance was surprisingly a talent for the Aspect of Magic. For the past two days, all that the brunette has been doing was cutting her palm open to rectify her reasons on using blood magic to retrace their two finest guards’ disappearance that was holding their utmost attention at the moment, especially hers, considering she’s failed trying to get ahold of them. 13 times trying various locator spells she could think of, even up to resorting to blood magic for a more clearer insight, yet 13 times she was returned with a huge no.

Malva may as well make a dissertation out of it and see if anyone else reading hers would be just as frustrated as she is when everything she tried came back futile. Well, not everything. There were plenty of forms she still has yet to try but most of them dabbled way too much in the darker path; a path she doesn’t favor. But she’s desperate enough to seek out other ways just to see if she’s just a little low in her game or there was someone else who’s more advanced in this game than her. Of course she knew there were plenty of potential proteges everywhere in the world, but for someone to be able to tamper with her locator spells, that took a certain degree and the fact that she didn’t even know who it might be worries her to no end. Huffing slightly to herself, the pessimistic Ailward Aspect took the tablet on her desk and plopped on her bed, sitting cross legged as she ran her fingers wildly on the screen. It was clear that she was trying to find someone in their database, which would take a while considering they had thousands of names alone in them.

Halfway through her search, she stopped momentarily and wondered the risks that she was taking just to find someone. Everything was stored inside, every data, both internal and external, so she had to be careful. It was the same thing she did trying to track down Isaiah Bradford the first time, she did it manually so no one would notice and unfortunately, Malva needed this to remain a secret. “I can’t believe I’m really just diving into a pile of files to find one person.” she grumbled and pushed the tablet away from her before making her way downstairs to the control room so she could find physical copies of them. After spending at least two hours rummaging through them, she saw one particular name that caught her eye in the ledger. Until she noticed the species on the right side saying he’s a dark diviner. There was no point in pushing this prospect away in the end, she could make the most of it. Rushing to get his file and sneak out of there to get back to her room, but not before making sure there was no mess left around.

She’s going to get her answer today one way or another. He came from a long line of Necromancers, so surely he could hold the key to her question. She won’t know if she doesn’t try. Enacting a simple locator spell to find just where the male is, it didn’t take her long to pinpoint his location. A club, how surprising. She doesn’t usually venture to shady places like that but desperate times call for drastic measures. Brushing her hair for a while before letting it cascade down her shoulders, she wrapped a scarf and coat over her before taking her bag and make her way out of the room. As per usual, the habitual liking of locking her room and enchant them before leaving was making its comeback too. After a while of not getting used to her dragon transformation, she decided to retest it out, just for the sake of rekindling the fires that needed to be rekindled. In an instance, the dark haired Aspect had transformed into her purple dragon form as she soared through the skies and found the club not far off from where she was at.

Taking her place to land in between the trees, she was grateful their dragon forms were invisible to the eyes, since it would've been weird to see a dragon flying around. Even for supernaturals. Slowly reverting back to her human form, she made sure to trace her amethyst pendant that gave her the ability to transform into one. She missed the times where she would just fly around for the sake of peace in her own mind. The club was packed, as usual, even the wintery night couldn’t push her away. Malva’s adamant in finding this guy and getting an answer once and for all. But her temperament did got riled up because people kept bumping into her and if she couldn’t locate Lyndon in the hectic place tonight, she’s most likely going to throw a fit no one wants to be near. Until her sapphire hues landed on one raven haired guy sitting by the bar, thank god. Propping herself at the seat next to him, she obviously looked like she didn’t belong there. “I hope you’re sober enough to talk like any civilized person.”

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Music. It was the only noise that appeared to penetrate both your ears and your sight. It pounded heavily like a heartbeat, right through your core and usually made you want to dance, to move your body as if following the leader. But tonight, wasn’t one of those nights. The music swam around like a snake, too close, constricting tightly around his ears like a vice.

Lyndon was used to loud clubs, but this was next level. He was dressed casually for a night out, a pressed, crease-less white shirt that glowed slightly in the strobe lights and black trousers that hugged the curve of his ass perfectly and tightly caressed the length of his legs. Lyndon was a ladies-man, or used to be…After the alcohol clouded his vision and his dethroning, he didn’t much feel like himself. He rubbed at his ears slightly and glanced towards one of the many large speakers in the club, his eyes flashing a dull, blood-hued red and the speaker cut off, beginning to sizzle before smoking slightly and stooping lower on its stand.

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The relief from just that one speaker made Lyndon smile softly, he could finally hear his own thoughts. He sighed and sunk just a little further into his chair, picking up his glass and shaking it. The bartender knew what the Necromancer meant and Lyndon in turn flashed a cocky smirk in his direction, tipping the glass as the bartender filled it and raising it in the same cocky manner as the bartender huffed and walked away.

Just then, a voice pierced the usual bass of the music. Lyndon, in his alcohol induced state, was not an approachable man. Usually by this time of night the Diviner had a large circle of ‘personal space’ around him that unconsciously people just didn’t enter. But as he looked towards the sound, Lyndon spotted a small, dark haired woman now seated beside him.

His eyes instantly narrowed, and he turned towards her slightly. “Even sober, I’m not much of a conversationalist.” He muttered, low enough so it was just for her ears. His strong cockney accent wormed around every word that left his lips, a stark contrast to Evermore’s American twang. Lifting his glass to his lips, Lyndon looked over to the female again and cocked his head to the side. “But actions do speak louder than words…” He purred, smirking more arrogantly now.

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“Let me buy you a drink and we can talk all night long.”

She knew she made the mistake the moment she set foot inside the club. It was filled with people grinding against each other's sweaty bodies with the music blaring a little too loud for her liking. It was too overwhelming for someone who preferred solitary above all, someone who preferred peace and quiet. She'll never get any kind of serenity here for sure.

But Malva had to do what she had to do, which was seeking out a diviner that came from one of the most notorious family of witches that's existed, so she would be able to figure out a few things. Perhaps she shouldn't come here when she knew the person she was intending to talk to was most likely drunk. She couldn't exactly help it, but maybe she could help speed up the sober process.

As soon as she took a seat against the counter, she analyzed the male sitting not very far from her. Was this really him? Malva admitted, she was not surprised but from the reputation that spread around like wildfire, she expected someone a lot more different. Don't judge a book by its cover, she reminded herself. It didn't take long for the Aspect of Magic to facepalm internally at the sight of a drunken him though. Especially when she could very well identify the slurs.

“So.. That's an affirmation that you're not sober. Great.” she murmured silently to herself, barely making it out to be audible to anyone else but the two of them. She had nothing to hide anyways. Might as well get this over with. It's not like she'd rather be here a lot longer than she has to. Every fiber in her was just waiting to bail out anytime.

“It doesn't matter.. Preferential matters would not cause a stent in this, I'm sure. Though I doubt you're much of a professional to be working your gears now.” Letting out a slightly heaved sigh, she propped an elbow on the counter and pursed her lips. “I don't think there's anything much for you to act more than what you can already provide me with verbally, Mr Beckett.” With her temperament, it's easy to say she doesn't exactly have the best tolerance when it comes to being a patient person, but for the sake of the answers she is seeking, she'll keep calm. For as long as she could.

She did however, scrunch her nose slightly in distaste at the sudden mention of him buying her a drink. "Whatever works your way..." She never drinks alcohol, period. Her brothers would kill her and it wasn't just her being their baby sister, but more so to her emotions highly influencing her magic and well, there's not really a viable reason to see her being out of her depth or way too deep in her depth. 

Lyndon kept his eyes on the dark-haired female beside him. Something wasn’t right with her. She looked young, very young, but spoke with an aged tone. His eyes narrowed slightly and his moved to rest his chin atop his fist, as if leaning would help him figure her out further. “Why would I be sober, sat at a bar?” He muttered shortly, cocking his head to the left in question. “You seem to young to even be allowed in here…But I feel that’s not at all true is it?”

The hairs on the back of his neck pricked up as she mentioned she wanted something from him. The only other woman that wanted something from him in such and intolerable fashion was Careen and look where that ended him up…Drinking his sorrows away and trying to forget himself every hour he was awake. She knew his name…Mr Beckett came from his lips as if she knew everything about him…And he knew nothing of her.

“Whatever you want…You won’t get it…Not tonight anyway.” He added and looked her up and down. “Because I presume, you’re not here to take me to a bed, so I’m not at all interested.” Lyndon purred arrogantly, turning himself back to the bar and shaking his glass toward the bartender. “Get the lady whatever she wants, one drink then she’s leaving.” He glanced to her. “Merely because I offered.”

With that, he slid from the bar stool, downed the liquor and took a step, pausing so his lips were right beside her ear. “Good evening.”  And as easy as that, he replaced his now empty glass to the bar and made his way easily through the dancefloor towards the exit, glancing back every now and then as he danced his way through groups of girls. He knew there was a high chance the female would follow him. People who wanted things from him usually did, but he wasn’t going to do business in a busy club he frequented often. Somewhere quiet was needed for that.

If she could roll her eyes a lot more times than she's allowed to, Malva was sure she would've rolled hers for the hundredth time despite only being in the premise for no more than 5 minutes. This was dreadful, why did she even think she could convince someone who's not even sober to help her out? Well, not help, more to a shares interest, only one she's confident in. And maybe not convince, but rather be coerced in considering the Aspect of Magic can be quite persuasive almost all the time she's dealt with people in general. If Malva Ailward wants something, she usually gets it done, one way or another. There was no saying how far she's willing to take things. Sometimes she surprises even herself.

Narrowing her icy blue hues as the dark haired male who sat just a few meters away from her, she shook her head and shrugged casually, careful into not spilling any information about herself that much, not nearly enough to reveal who she is. If he was smart, he would be able to piece things up at the end of the day, given that he pays attention. But for now, she'll settle with what she can generate without trying that hard. “Stupid question,” she grumbled to herself, sighing heavily and cleared her throat. “I mean, are you that much under the influence of alcohol in your system, that you are not able to discern any differences or be a decent conversationalist for tonight?” Honestly, Mal didn't want to have to do anything more than convincing. She simply didn't have the time nor the effort to waste.

“Legally stated on ID, I'm 23, sir. So not too long and not too old,” she rolled her eyes and huffed, clearly gone down this road of age a lot more frequently than she'd led on. Okay, if they were being technical, she died at 19, so that's probably it. “Well at least all that drunkenness left a space in your head to work the gears around.” Impressive. But if they were going back and forth into annoying one another with their mere presence, things are going to be a lot harder than she intended them to be. Not that she would be anywhere near surprised. Quirking her eyebrows in amusement, she wasn't as taken aback by his forward fashion. Did she expected it? Probably.

“I can wait,” she shrugged and took a quick glance at the phone she fished out of her bag earlier. “I'm a patient woman when reconsidered.” That's a lie, she's not a patient woman. Her temperament always seemed to find a way to revolve her around trouble. Her sharp tongue had gotten her into trouble more than it has helped her, for sure. But she can put a few things aside for the better option. “Nope, not here to take you to bed or anything, just wanting to talk to you.” When she saw her attempts to be polite didn't work, she was highly tempted to go with the civil option and be herself, which could end up worse or better. Either way, she's not leaving until she gets to talk to him. But he is, from the looks of it. Well, to the dance floor at least. She was not going to go to the middle of the room and surround herself amidst the crowd. Over her dead body.

She politely declined the drink from the bartender and her eyes searched for another possible route she can take where she can finally get on her plans. Malva's bright hues fell on the fire alarm across the room. That would mean she's going to get wet, but oh well, desperate measures require a few sacrifices, even if it meant her cashmere blouse getting wet. Leaning against the counter, her gaze went back and forth from the the male diviner and to the fire alarm. Deciding to order a cola, she received her drink almost instantly and as she sipped on it, the Russian born woman worked her telekinetic abilities to trigger the fire alarm and that was when the sprinklers were enabled. But some didn't get the memo, so she had to cause a diversion much to her dismay. So much effort, she internally complained.

Glancing at the west side of the room, it didn't take long for a fire to start and erupt, not harmful enough but definitely mad erupt a big explosion kind of impact. The fire she created was quite dramatic, which ironically caused her to chuckle deeply. Just like that owner. Call her a spoiled brat but she intends to get what she comes out for. When everyone else had exited, leaving the lone diviner across the floor, she turned around and crossed her legs. “Do I get your attention now? Can we finally talk? Or do you need me to sober you up? I can do that. Mean technique but usually works for my siblings.” Talk about mean, it is.

Sprinklers…Why was it always raining? Lyndons gaze stretched towards the source, the fire alarms system. He spun on toe, a great army of people all shoving and pushing to get out of the bar, but the Diviner awaited the rush until it was merely him and the brown haired girl before him.

His dark eyes danced over her petite frame before his head cocked to the side. The site of power sobered him up quicker than any other remedy. He stood still, silent, for a moment before taking a few steps towards the girl. “A neat trick for someone so…Small.” He chirped back at her as she mentioned him sobering up. “I think I’m fine thanks, the cold water does wonders for clearing ones head.” With that, he stopped, a couple foot away from her with a smirk etching onto his features.

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“So what does someone like you want with someone like me?” Lyndon barked, his voice rough. He wondered what she could possibly want. She didn’t sound like she was from London, and his old partner had no friends of her own, so what did this little fire-started want. And just how far was she going to go to get it.

“Cut to the chase eh? What exactly do you want from me?”

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By the time the sprinklers came on and rained on everyone's parade, quite literally, Malva was already halfway finishing her drink. Thankfully non-alcoholic. God knows what'll happen if she caught herself in the middle of that. It didn't take long for everyone else to rush out, obviously not liking their wet selves, which is the same for the Aspect of Magic that lounged around by the bar, trailing her fingertips at the rim of the glass in a circular motion. The bartender didn't leave until she gave him a look to do so. As the poor male skipped off, it was only the two of them, exactly the way she wanted it to be. It's clear that Malva doesn't thread lightly with rejections in general, especially when she's the one seeking them out. As dramatic as the Ailward Aspect can be, she hates being put on-hold and ignored.

She could hear the faint steps coming from his shoes as he made his way towards the bar, where she currently loomed over. Sparing a glance to his side, a prominent scowl was already making its way to her features as she clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Excuse you, you're not that tall” she huffed and blew the extra strands of her locks that was previously blocking her gaze away. Given her petite stature, she usually looks a lot smaller than usual despite standing at average height of 5’6”. “A small person with a lot of pent up temper, more like” she grumbled silently, it didn't escape her notice that she was indeed very temperamental. “This small girl can knock you out faster than you can blink, sir.” First rule, do not try to piss her off.

“And here I was, thinking I could give you my own special remedy to sober you up.” She literally means a hex, nothing too harmful but that's Malva for you. “Manners maketh man, Lyndon” she chastised, shaking her head in response to his statement earlier. “But to answer your question, I'm here because I'm in need to find someone from your family. You'll suffice, obviously. I can't be bothered to travel to London,” she hummed softly, tilting her head slightly to the side as she let out a heaved sigh. “Your family have a long lineage of dark diviners, and I need a dark diviner. Consider me a family friend or something. For researching purposes.” She's terrible at making up excuses, but always managed to get away with them because she wouldn't give a damn. “Say, tell me. Do you still have your family's grimoire?” In her defense, she did know his ancestor, but yes ancestor.

Her fingers were soft, circling the rim of her glass slowly, calculated. This said a lot about the girl across from Lyndon. She was in control in her life, everything swung her way, or so it seemed and with the Sprinkler trick, she wasn’t used being told no. He took note of her, every inch, trying to decipher what she was, the who wasn’t too important. His eyes glanced at the sprinklers, his hues flashing briefly their blood red, the water cut off instantly. He begun patting down his blazer, sighing slightly. “Ruined” He muttered to himself, twitching the collar of his shirt a little.

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As she spoke, the Diviner smirked and cocked his head arrogantly to the right. “Small…Petite. Childlike even.” He chimed, gesturing to her before letting his feet carry him behind the bar so he could pour himself a drink. “You seem annoyed with me?” He purred and allowed his smirk to grown slightly. “That means you care…But why? You don’t know me.” He hissed, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a long drink, replacing the empty glass back onto the bar and leaning back against the line of fridges. He was sure to keep the bar itself between them.

As she mentioned her own remedy, his eyes narrowed to two slits, but he didn’t move his body an inch, even as she chastised him, he remained as still as a statue. However, her words were intriguing. “Family.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, all those are dead. I chose my own in the end.” Lyndon snapped.

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Her next sentence however, was music to his ears. “Oh…You need me?” He almost sung the words, leaning onto the bar with his smirk well and truly returning to his lips. “A dark Diviner. You don’t get much darker than me girly.” He trilled, clicking his tongue as he winked.

“Now, now. Dear old mom and dad left some stuff. I was just wise enough to memorise it, then hide anything that could be used against me.” Lyndon smiled, sickly sweetly. “So the short answer, No.” He then tapped his temple “The long answer, Yes.”

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He paused then, raising his finger and pointing it at her.

“But what business do you have with my grimoire? Because that’s exactly what it is…Mine.”

Malva had never really had the most luck when it comes to dealing with people she couldn't handle aka she could never defeat someone who's ego is just as widespread as her own, her hubris really kicking in at the worst of times to make sure it stays on top. Such a domineering trait that she couldn't help but to grow aggravated at it sometimes. Especially when she knew fully well what that temper is going to get her at, her emotions becoming playing a rather pivotal part to her magic. If her cerebrum stored everything, then her emotions held everything when it comes to her magic. One poke was all it needed to jeopardize everything single running system inside. So believe her when she said she'd rather do anything else than to force herself be sociable as sociable Malva Ailward could go, and deal with none other than Lyndon Beckett, today.

The same scowl marred her features once again when she caught the word ‘childlike’ from the diviner, as a scoff escape her. “To be fair I was like 19 when I died so..” Was she even going to try and conceal what she is to him? No point in doing so really. The Aspect of Magic didn't come here today to play around, you best bet she's going to get what she came for because god help anyone who stood within close proximity when she allow her temper to take place. It would not be pleasant. Neither one of her siblings could even take it, much less others. “Don't flatter yourself, I'm annoyed with everyone in general. The only living thing I don't dislike are plants and animals” she remarked bluntly, every word drying itself in snark as she narrowed her sapphire hues towards him.

“I don't always care, but I didn't come here for the kicks, Lyndon. I wouldn't step a foot outside my residency if I didn't need to, so you best bet I didn't come here today and kick everyone out of a club just so I could come back home with no result. I don't know you, but I know enough. I mean, I did knew your family.” She made sure to emphasis the word ‘knew’, making it clear to him that it was past tense. Though she'll admit she was a bit taken aback by the sudden revelation regarding his family's current status. So that's why she couldn't track them down a few years ago. Bummer. She should've concluded it was death preventing her from reaching out, that pesky little thing. Though she wouldn't go as far as to say she was surprised in the least. The Becketts had a history so they wouldn't last longer than they'd like to think too.

“Please, I detest every single element aligning itself with darkness itself,” she scoffed and shook her head. “with the exception of my sister.” Cora was the only person she could truly handle who's really in the dark, even though she couldn't be around her as long as she used to, in fear of temptation again. Quirking her eyebrows in a questioning manner, she nodded her head slightly, taking in what he said as a clarification. “So you do have them. Just not with you at the moment. No matter, a few tracking wouldn't hurt” she dismissed, but really she needed to see just what's wrong with her and if there were ways for her to delve back into the darker path without losing herself entirely. Temptation, her biggest weakness. Malva could do so many things but that will always be others’ ultimate weapon against her; her own temptation.

“Sheesh, don't get your pants in a twist, darling. I intend to have a look is all. Like I said, I can't be bothered to go to London, much less scour the entire earth to go searching for prominent dark diviner covens. I can't leave Colorado, at the moment” she murmured silently, really hating her current circumstances of not being able to leave as easily. “I believe there's a few answers to my question inside there somewhere. Like I said, I just needed to take a peek, it's not like I'm going to steal it. Because if I am,” she squinted her eyes and gave him a slightly scrutinizing look. “I won't even need to deal with people physically.” Oh, walking back to her brother's words, if an Ailward wants something, they usually get it. Or at least they'll find a way to get it. Good news for them, bad news for others–they don't quit.

‘When I died’ A clue, Lyndon listened intently to the girl, his eyes narrowed in as much concentration as he could muster. He needed every clue to figure out what she was, and it just so happened Lyndon was good at watching people. His eyes scaled her frame every couple second without moving, he gave nothing away. Being a king of an entire city meant he used to constantly be on the look out for cops, snitches and backstabbers. Traits Lyndon enjoyed identifying. As she spoke, he chuckled and cocked a brow “Sure.” He responded simply.

As she mentioned once more about his family, Lyndon wet his lips. “As you keep emphasizing, that was the past. I brought the Beckett name out of the gutter my Father left it in…Im pretty much the only Beckett that matters right now…So maybe you should consider being a bit more open with your information.”

He smirked slightly as she asked about the Grimoires and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I have them.” The dark diviner mused, but then sucked a breath through his teeth. “But unfortunately, they’re currently not available to the general public.” He joked, as if she were asking for a library book. Watching her, he shook his head. “No, You can’t have them. They’re not in Evermore.” He said simply, it was only half a truth.

His usual, cocky smirk graced his features as he caught the girls eye. “I have them in spirit.” He said, tapping his temple again. “Unfortunately, the physical copies don’t really exist anymore, Or so I was told. But I spent my entire life with those books. I was probably one of the most skilled Necromancers around. I memorised every spell and potion, every incantations and brew. Every word from those books are all up here.” Lyndon rest his elbows onto the bar, leaning closer to her and cocking his head to the side. “Meaning you won’t touch a hair on my pretty head if you want the information.” He purred, raising his hand and running his fingertip down her jawline.

“I want to know why you want the Beckett Grimoires. I want to know exactly what you want from them and what you intended to use them on…or for what. Then maybe I’ll part with a bit of information.”

It hasn't escaped her notice that the male dark diviner was scouring every detail that could be made into a form of information that would at least give herself away. Surprisingly, it wasn't a weird adjustment, because this was certainly not Malva's first time being analyzed. She comes of like any other witch, a diviner, but there was also a part where she seemed a lot more than just that. Which gives out the question to everyone else that didn't know what she is, posing a huge question mark above her like some sort of halo. Oh well, it wasn't as if she didn't like the game it played sometimes. Though the Aspect of Magic will have to nitpick that she disliked being the center of attention or any attention really. It makes her uncomfortable.

Ah, another one who resented the family, dumping every blame bucket on them. Heritage and lineage had a weird way to come out in the long run of evolution itself. Nothing about it seemed to particularly change in any aspect. It's all the same drama over and over again, she was surprised people didn't get tedious about it. “Well, if you're really the only Beckett that is actually alive, it should make my work a tad bit easier than intended. At least I won't have to bother myself using ancestral magic just to connect with your- what I would assume to be quite the hardasses, of a family.” Really, reconnecting worthy he nature is one thing but using ancestral connections just to make a call on the other side? That's a pain, considering most spirits really hates intrusion. Even if it comes from Malva herself, who's notorious for her abysmal bedside manner.

A small string snapped in half when Lyndon told her she couldn't have them, which almost caused her to scoff at the mere idea of stealing them away. She wouldn't even need to do that, truthfully. Admittedly, her skills are quite questionable nowadays, so she wouldn't dare to create something when she knew the side effects could be extra careless, but that's currently only applied to light magic. The rest are still viable for her choosing. And just as she predicted, there were no more physical copies left on the earth. “You could've just said so in the first place, you know. Instead of dwelling around the fact that I need you, when I'm pretty sure a tap inside that,” she pointed towards his head with a coy smirk. “would help me with my search.” She's big on privacy so Malva wouldn't exactly tap into people's heads without consent but the dragon is undoubtedly quite stressed at the moment, there is nothing she wouldn't do.

“But since I'm a very considerate person who actually respects privacy and constitutional human rights, not that you are one anyways, I will leave it at that” she mused, tilting her head slightly to the side. “I've been dealing with a few side ends with my magic and I need to reconnect with it. But the thing is, I don't know where to start. Okay that's a lie, I know exactly where to start but like any other person facing a problem, I wanted to check if there's any loophole or shortcut. Which means, I'll have to find out the exact problem with myself that's repressing that part of me. In order to do that, I need those grimoires because I can recall giving one of them to your great grandfa-, wait.. Is it great great great grandfather? I don't know, it's about three centuries ago.”

Lyndon stopped moving as she spoke, his eyes flickered for the final time over her person before returning to her face. “I wasn’t an idiot.” He said simply, a small, sly grin creeping across his features. “You wonder why I was so good in my class? Why even for a borderline alcoholic Im pretty bad-ass? Because I grounded all the magic myself.” He chimed. By that he meant that the Beckett family performed rituals when a relative died, their magic going back into the ground, or latching on the a nearby soul. In most cases it was Lyndon, in some cases he made it happen that way.

As she tapped his skull, the Diviner recoiled slightly and cocked his head a little to the side. “Now now, Im sure my head would be a little more difficult to get into.” Cocky, again. He knew one day his arrogance would kill him but it wasn’t a thought that crossed his mind in the moment, nor was it one that crossed him mind frequently.

The arrogant Diviner wandered around the bar towards her and nodded. “I know who you mean.” He said simply. “He had issues with his magic, couldn’t use it right, so decided to blame it on a block and did a bunch of rituals to try and find it out.” Lyndon frowned then and shook his head. “He did some pretty dark stuff to get some of his magic back, called upon a lot of…Evil presences.” Lyndon scoffed slightly and shook his head “Not that I fully believed reading it, its like a story.”

Mentioning loopholes and shortcuts, Lyndon smirked “You should know more than most….All Magic comes with a price.” Lyndon leaned in, just a touch closed to her. “And what your planning on doing, according to what I read, could turn out to be a pretty hefty price.”

Malva has met plenty of diviners in her lifetime, she's come across those who are shy and never knew the magic running through their veins, and she's met the cocky son of bitches too. But Lyndon was probably one of the deviant ones from the latter category. If she didn't need something from him, she would probably have hexes him just to give him a taste of his own medicine for the sake of it. She doesn't tolerate such behavior, call her uptight, which she probably is. “Every idiot says that… no offense” she scoffed, recalling just how many people actually used that line every time they got labelled that. Rolling her eyes at the male who is seriously using his ultimate bragging rights card by flaunting it in front of her, the Aspect of Magic tilted her head slightly to the slight as she quirked her eyebrows questioningly.

Oh she is questioning everything right now. Like, literally. “Are you, though? Are you any good in your class?” she exclaimed, accentuating her voice with heavy sarcasm and snark, don't get her wrong, Malva can identify prodigal children when she sees them, especially it they're associated with her element. But just to get a rise of it, she wanted to be sure. She didn't need an alcoholic for sure. The emotions get to your head and since their magic are fuelled from it, it's better to keep them under control unless you want to risk hexing yourself. “I'm only hearing all talks though, nothing much for actions. How do I know you're top of your class? Anyone can talk, you know.” Reverse psychology? Not her play, but doesn't mean she's not any good in it. Considering Malva doesn't speak much unless needed or deemed necessary, she makes it better.

When he said he grounded all the magic, she stared at him skeptically, that wasn't unusual but it wasn't colloquial either. It doesn't happen all the time since there's plenty of side effects coming with the package. And for some people, if not most, it wasn't worth the risk, at least for those who still had remaining family members living, which doesn't seem to be the case for Lyndon who's the only sole survivor. No wonder he's cocky. “A little risky, quite daring” she hummed. “Your head won't be the first, so I hardly doubt it. But honestly, all of that is so much work.. So I would prefer do this the classic way,” she grumbled. “the civil way. Like any humans would do. Talk in a civilized manner.” Did she expect much from him? Not really. But one can have expectations.

“Magic in general is volatile. It depends on who uses them. But even the purest heart could be tainted if there's any small misstep so I wouldn't put it past anyone” she scowled, Malva was quite sensitive to such matters related to that because she's suffered the backhand of it. However, she was amused when she heard him expressed the dissatisfaction on what sounded much like fairy tales. “You're a diviner who has the command of magic, and you find it hard to believe those things exists? We have plenty of supernaturals existing.. Tell me, do you believe if I tell you our supernatural world is governed by our own form of authority? You know, in Evermore, we have ambassadors, but what of the rest of the world? Surely there should be an organization that handles all of those, to prevent exposure to the public eye.” Oh how she really does love it when it comes to testing people's knowledge, her curiosity seeps in and always piqued her interest.

Narrowing her blue hues on the male, she clicked her tongue a few times before heaving a sigh. “I know. I'm not stupid enough not to do my research. It won't be the first time.. Not that I escaped unscathed the last time, but I'm still alive so, I see it as a good thing.” The trauma however, wasn't really good. “I know what I have to do, don't you worry about that. The question is, are you going to be complicit in this or am I just wasting my time?”


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