Graduation had been a milestone, to say the least. Eager as he was to begin his apprenticeship under the potioneer, it would be another two months until his NEWT scores arrived, and the potioneer had been adamant he prove himself worthy in that regard before he'd agree to take him on, so that left Valerian to enjoy more leisurely pursuits. He'd left Hogwarts with a number of friends he hoped to remain in contact with, and while most of them had taken an interest in the extravagant brothel not too far down the road, Valerian had very quickly found that the women there were too whore-ish for his liking (something that felt ridiculous to say, but really, what was all the fun in paying for a woman when she wasn't even half-interested in him?).
The opium den, however, was a different scene entirely. Valerian's friends were busy getting high, but Valerian, ever the cautious one, was hesitant to try it. He wanted to see the full range of effects—the first few minutes after taking the drug, then the high at its full force, and then the coming-down period, which he hadn't seen in anyone yet. He had sat himself down on a couch with stains that suspiciously looked like they belonged to specific bodily fluid, but maybe that was his paranoia—Valerian had never had to sit anywhere that wasn't spotless, and he was still getting used to that.
Speaking of someone else who was getting used to filth... "Arthur," he said, with a curious quirk of his brow. He hadn't spoken much to his cousin since the scandal, but he wasn't averse to the idea—especially not while sitting in the middle of this... this place, full of mostly strangers and bad smells. "Of course you wouldn't, would you?" he asked, with the defensiveness of an eighteen-year-old boy who didn't want to be thought of as too vanilla. "But it looks like your kind of place, doesn't it?" He smiled then, hoping that his presence was not one that would bother him.
The opium den, however, was a different scene entirely. Valerian's friends were busy getting high, but Valerian, ever the cautious one, was hesitant to try it. He wanted to see the full range of effects—the first few minutes after taking the drug, then the high at its full force, and then the coming-down period, which he hadn't seen in anyone yet. He had sat himself down on a couch with stains that suspiciously looked like they belonged to specific bodily fluid, but maybe that was his paranoia—Valerian had never had to sit anywhere that wasn't spotless, and he was still getting used to that.
Speaking of someone else who was getting used to filth... "Arthur," he said, with a curious quirk of his brow. He hadn't spoken much to his cousin since the scandal, but he wasn't averse to the idea—especially not while sitting in the middle of this... this place, full of mostly strangers and bad smells. "Of course you wouldn't, would you?" he asked, with the defensiveness of an eighteen-year-old boy who didn't want to be thought of as too vanilla. "But it looks like your kind of place, doesn't it?" He smiled then, hoping that his presence was not one that would bother him.
