so say geronimo {Emily}

Today was not the day to be late to something, and yet Mason found himself rushing out the door. He almost forgot to lock on his way out, but he quickly shot a spell back and hoped he hit his door and not one of the neighbor’s. If nothing else, he’d at least remembered it. He stuffed the peanut butter and cinnamon sandwich into his mouth as he went through some of the papers that he was supposed to be reviewing with Meghan. The girl had asked for help sorting through potential reserve beaters, and he was the better of the ones that Pride of Portree had. That had been the plan at least. Instead, Mason had decided to take a nap and accidentally sleep through his alarm. Which led to an angry head yelling at him from the fireplace, which in turn led to a rush Mason running out the door with his lunch sticking out of his mouth and his eyes scanning papers that he was supposed to have read before he arrived.

Diagon Ally wasn’t his favorite place in the world when it was crowded, but he had no coice but to navigate it. Unlike his own apartment, his Captain’s had charms against apparating in, and she didn’t particularly like him flooing in. Not that he blamed her, but it was incontinent at best. Except now it lead to things like rushing through crowds trying to get to her apartment in less than a minute despite that being physically impossible. Well, unless he had a time-turner, except he didn’t so it was a moot point. One hand grabbed his sandwich while he continued to leaf through papers, although now it was less to scan them and more to stick them under his arm.

Had he not been in a hurry to make it to Meghan’s apartment, Mason probably would have seen the girl emerging from the bookstore. But he was in a hurry, and he didn’t. The resulting crash probably should have hurt more, but he was a solid guy under all the baggy clothing. Instead, he just ended up stumbling, his hands meeting the uneven cobblestone ground. That was going to make practice annoying.

“You know, it’s generally a good idea to warn people before you run into them.” He sighed as he gathered his stuff, which mostly consisted of the remains of his lunch that would have to be discarded and his pocket watch, which had been flung out of said pocket when he fell. Thankfully he’d managed to keep a tight grip on the papers. “That was a perfectly good damn sandwich too, and now I have to buy something before I meet… Ugh.”

Light brown hair dangled in front of Emily's wide yellow-green eyes, which were intensely fixed on the camel-colored parchment leaves the expensive book held in its fragile binding. She'd spent an arm and a leg for the thing, but it'd be worth it -- she was surprised they hadn't been asked to carry this copy in her own store, but she was partial to its contents, after all. Obscure, old, and rare was the name of the game at Eximius, but whenever she couldn't find what she needed in their own stocks, this shop in Diagon Alley was a good resource as well. Still under the awning of the quaint little Diagon Alley bookstore, Emily hadn't thought to be looking up for passersby -- and thus was extremely caught off-guard at the abrupt crash into her lithe frame.

Her first concern, over her own possible injury, was the book. The book. Shit, she thought, then said it aloud upon noticing that it was facedown on the luckily-not-damp pavement. "Shit!" It was a hiss under her breath and she knelt to pick up the book, shutting it gently and depositing it into the messenger bag she carried on her hip to allow safekeeping for ... well, mostly books, as well. She'd been ready to accept an apology with grace and move along down the street to continue combing through the new stocks in other stores until the brute implied so rudely that the collision had been her fault.

"Excuse me?" It was very clearly a demand rather than a question, defined brows arching up in surprise and indignation. She'd heard what he'd said, alright, she just wanted to check to make sure he had the nerve to repeat it again. "I ran into you?" Her voice came much calmer this time, slithering out coolly as her expression found the motivation to relax. She couldn't argue well if she was angry and flustered, so the witch knew it would be better to look at the situation (however messed up it was) objectively. "I don't think so. Perhaps if you hadn't been bumbling through the proximity of a door that people could quite possibly be exiting, this wouldn't have happened."

Her nose wrinkled at the sight of the sandwich he spoke of -- if you could even call it that. It looked like a pile of tan sludge, if you were to ask her opinion. "Really, not my problem. Perhaps you could use something with a smidge of nutrition. Might improve your sense of sight." She paused, small wince blinking her eyes closed while she rubbed at a spot on her bony shoulder, attempting to soothe the budding sore patch.

"Thanks to you, I'll now have a bruise on my shoulder that you so graciously careened into and I'll have to check those pages for blemishes -- which could very well reduce the value of the book, should I decide to resell it. Nicely done." A less-than-friendly smirk curved Em's lips and she ran a skinny hand through her hair, sighing exasperatedly. "Anyway, um, you should probably check your sense of entitlement as a whole before you go to visit whoever you're visiting. Let's hope to God it's not a poor, unsuspecting woman."

“Yeah, excuse you. Exactly.” Mason really wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, and it was a minor miracle there weren’t papers everywhere in addition to his sandwich being totally ruined. Shit now I’m gonna have to grab food on the way or bug Meg for food… “Ugh.” There was clear frustration in his voice as he let the thought pass through his head.

Mason turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, you did run into me. I’m going straight, you were coming out. Pretty sure you should have been the one watching.” His eyes rolled and he could have made an attempt at being diplomatic. But that required work and he wasn’t doing a PR thing, just trying to get to his captain’s house. “Look, you walked out and into me, which means that this?” He made a gesture at the sandwich and the ground in general. “This was all on you.”

At her nutrition comment, he couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Protein… It was protein, which is what I’m focusing on. Pretty sure I know more about nutrition than you do, sweetheart.” Maybe not in an academic sense, sure, but Mason knew about eating. He knew when he needed to make sure he didn’t have anything fatty, or when protein was his friend. Good dieting was a surprisingly big part of athletics, go figure. “But it is your problem, because again, I’m without my lunch now.”

A… bruise. Mason could have laughed, but he didn’t. “Really? It’ll probably be hardly that, and if it’s took much trouble all you have to do is ice and heat it alternately. Or have someone make up a potion if you’re that much of a wimp.” He was going to comment about the book (because really, they shouldn’t have value to begin with, stupid things), but then her last comment sunk in and he shut his mouth. His hand was still up and he slowly lowered it. “You know what, go have fun reading your leather-bound crap. I’ve gotta go anyway.”

"I'd been standing there at least thirty seconds before you rammed right into me!" She exclaimed, hand moving out to gesture to the barely-populated section of the street they stood on. "I wasn't walking anywhere. I was planted, stationary. You weren't paying any attention and ran straight into me." Thick brows furrowed and her slender arms folded to cross over her chest. A pleasant perusing session in the shop had been promptly ruined by the wall of humanity that was this man. Now, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to continue -- one, for fear of running into the jerk again, and two, her mood was completely sour due to this predicament she was still unfortunately immersed in.

"There's more sugar than protein in peanut butter, if that's what that unfortunate disaster of a meal was." Emily replied to his comment, letting a scowl flicker across her features when he called her by that saccharine name so insincerely. "You might know more about aspiring to become a complete beefcake than I do, but there's really only a sliver of wholesome nutrition in that. It's not my problem if I haven't a care to give about your sad sandwich." Rolling her large eyes at him, she tapped her fingers against the crook of her elbow where they were tucked, small gestures indicating growing frustration with his idiocy.

"I never said anything about me poring over it. It's merely an inconvenience, or have you never experienced the irritation of a dull pain while going about your work?" He just wouldn't quit, would he? Emily was astounded at the audacity of her tactless -- well, she couldn't call him an attacker. That might've been harsh -- but he was awfully unwilling to admit his clumsiness.

A pause transpired between them and she took a moment to realize what he'd said, amused smile curving the corners of her lips. He really did have some guts, anyway. She'd give him that. "This leather-bound crap is probably worth more than your entire wardrobe." Again -- not saying much. He did look rather... well, drab. That said, Emily wasn't known for dressing to impress. She never looked bad, per se, but she preferred to do said impressing with her words and her literary collection. Referencing his wardrobe was at least something he could understand and relate to.

"Anyway. I'd help you hunt for that new lunch you'll have to pay for yourself -- since I clearly won't be doing it -- but I have more bookstores to retrieve precious copies from."

“So don’t stand in a busy walkway!” Mason could hear his voice start to rise and he took a deep breath. If he wasn’t careful, the Prophet was going to be on him like white on rice…. Or worse, that Skeeter chick would make something up and then Meghan would have to cover for him. To be fair, there weren’t many people on the streets right now, but the point was the same. Standing still in Diagon Alley wasn’t the smartest idea. Ever. Really. “Ok, well you should have… Shut up.” Mason frowned, huffing slightly. This was going nowhere and his captain was going to kill him if he was too late. This wasn’t his best plan, but then again when were any of his plans good?

At this, Mason scoffed. “Sugar, sure. But it’s a high protein and high fat content meal.” He didn’t mean to roll his eyes, and perhaps his brother was rubbing off on him a tad too much. Beefcake. Right. “It’s a high energy meal that gets burned quickly. Perhaps you should consider the fact that you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nutrition wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but he knew enough to help him during games. Frankly the fact that he was getting into this discussion was stupid, but part of him wanted to keep poking.

He shrugged. Pain was what he lived; being a Beater wasn’t exactly a walk in the park after all. “You get used to it in my line of work really. Hardly notice it.” It was mostly true. There were worse days, sure, but for the most part he’d learned to live with the constant shoulder ache. “There’re creams and potions for that though.”

There was a pause before Mason let out a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, probably. Not saying much though.” The shirt he was wearing had cost him a handful of sickles at a bargain shop, and the pants were just old jeans that didn’t fit quite right. Sure, he looked like a mess, but he was comfortable at least, and if they got dirty it wasn’t the end of the world. Thank Merlin for that much at least. A quick glance at the girl’s wardrobe made it clear that even she dressed better than him, and Mason wasn’t sure if that was easy to do or not frankly. Probably easy. He’d have to ask one of his siblings later maybe. “So congrats, you have books that cost more than a few sickles?”

“Look, at least… I dunno, you know what, this is stupid. I have a meeting to get to, and this whole thing is gonna make the Captain mad so…” He trailed off, sighing. He probably would have been mad and it would have escalated to a fight, but the meeting was still weighing heavily on his mind and he really did need to go.