Garden Parties and Getting to Know You PV Astrea

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interactions @Anastasia Beckett
word count 766 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence, lovely creature
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Astrea's always liked attending pureblood outings.

You know what cut that out. All of that. What a liar. Astrea did not like parties. She didn't like balls very much, she didn't like parties the same amount. At the end of the day, she always felt exhausted from the sheer amount of people she was forced into speaking to. Being paraded around by the Lady Chou's side, she felt more like a wax doll than a human, a pretty little pet to groom. Pretty yes she was, but the type of pretty that only seemed to draw gossip and slender fingers clutching at her jaw to examine her face- as if the porcelain mask she wore over her feelings was real china that had inlaid itself upon her and only they had the power to unveil her as the fake she felt like she was.

But at the same time, she didn't exactly hate it either. It was more that she prefered attending them compared to the alternative- which was merely staying at the manor all day, a wandering ghost amongst abandoned halls and empty fields-, even if the tittering voices and fake smiles sounded more like chirping birds than humans sometimes. Fake until you make it, and keeping up with the socialites meant that hiding everything until it was appropriate was practically an art by this point.

It didn't matter what she felt though, because Neptune-Chou nuclear family were already on their way. They were approaching their destination fast, and soon Astrea would be free from her frozen position upon plush cushions and between white walls and curtains. It wasn't long until they would be among the mutual rich, among those who were just similar enough in background to associate with each other and yet so different that it was very apparent just with a glance that the Four Bloodlines were a little more than slightly foreign-looking, no matter if they had taken residence in Europe for just as long as the rest of the old money folk.

After what felt like a century, worn dirt gave way to smooth stone edging against crisp green grass. The faint sound of chatter and birdsong drifted through the slightly open windows, drowned out by the increasingly loud sound of clopping hooves and the swishing of dresses. Smoothing out her dress blankly, she couldn't help but stare as her mother adjusted a pretty hat upon piled black hair, waiting for her turn as the coachman opened the door and her father stepped out to escort his wife along, Lord and Lady equally stoic in demeanour. The sound of her father's heirloom cane clicked away off the stone, a sharp type of noise that quite certainly hid the quiet conversation in Korean they were do doubt having. They were not to wait for her, she would need to catch up.

Vaguely she wondered if she was allowed to wander around by herself this time. It wasn't as if she had done anything particularly wrong per se- in fact, she had once thought she had seen a glimmer of pride within her father's eyes when she had told him about her history lessons, about a forsaken foreigner turned beautiful bride with a heart of gold and eyes like glass- but it was more that it was her entire duty as the sole heir of the Neptune-Chou lineage to develop familiar ties to the rest of high society. She was the next generation, after all, she would take the metaphorical throne alongside a faceless king to keep- though, don't tell anyone, she secretly wondered if the king was Demetre, kind, stoic Demetre whom she had known she would be wed to since the moment they had been introduced, or perhaps even someone else, a stranger with soft features and a kind heart.

The opening of the door nearest to her broke Astrea out of her trance, the slight wind from the confidently smooth motion ruffling her hair as the nicely dressed figure of the carriageboy came into view, cutting a peculiar look against afternoon sunlit lawn of the Beckett manor. She took the proffered hand and stepped out of the carriage with just as much grace as her beautiful mother, breaching into the light for the first time since the Cedarwood Castle. And with a polite nod of thanks to the teen apprentice, she set off to take her place slightly behind the looming figures of her Lord and Lady, white satin flats sinking into the finely clipped grass as the family ventured further forward to greet the Becketts.

They had arrived.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune

Ana was bored out of her mind. There weren't many people under the age of thirty there, probably because the majority of parents were letting their children go to the Hogwarts summer camp. Ana was still bitter about her parents' insistence on her spending the summer at home. Normally, she wouldn't mind too badly, but this summer, there was the Durmstrang Quidditch game, which Ana had desperately wanted to watch. The camp wasn't a full three weeks, so Ana could have gone and still spent most of her summer with her parents. None of that had convinced them though. They had decided that this was the summer they were going to officially find Ana a betrothed, whether or not Ana wanted one. She had made this clear, in less than ladylike ways, which had resulted in her grounding and her parents' perpetual anger with her and everything she did.

In her defense, her parents had been pre-angry at her, since someone, Ana wasn't sure who just yet, had sent a letter to her parents detailing pretty much every single rule she had broken in three months since she had last seen them. The only missing bit was the Secret Ball, which Ana was somewhat thankful for. She wasn't sure how on Earth she would have attempted to explain that away. Not that she could really explain the shady club, arson, punching or setting herself on fire, but having to talk about the ball would have vastly complicated things. Her parents would have probably first strangled her, then grounded her for life, then withdrawn her from Hogwarts. She would prefer none of those things to happen, so she'd been fairly quiet about those matters.

It was really most irritating that her parents had insisted upon her coming home for the summer and then promptly banned her from leaving the house or doing anything remotely fun until further notice. Maybe she shouldn't have cursed at them the moment she got off the train, but being bored the entire summer seemed rather overkill to her.

As nice as it was to see humans that weren't her parents, Ana was pretty much already fed up with this party. Everyone looked lovely, which appeased the fashionista in her, but she overheard some rather nasty things. God, that felt like such a perfect symbol for Pureblood society in general. Breathtakingly stunning on the outside, poisonous and nasty on the inside.

As her thoughts wandered, she heard her mother call her over to greet someone. Whatever happened to the entire "be seen and not heard" instruction? Still, Ana wasn't going to split hairs with her parents over meanless things - she was already doing plenty of that over important things - and so she rose and gracefully crossed to her mother's side to greet whoever it was arriving, pasting on her most gracious princess smile so that her deep disgust and dislike for whoever it was. She wondered if her mother would finally let her have some of the petit fours she'd been eyeing for the last hour. Since she had been released, even temporarily from the prison that was her chair, she decided she would just snag some on the way back to her seat. That way her mother didn't get a chance to say no. What was the saying, "better to ask forgiveness than permission"? Something to that effect. It definitely applied to her parents.

As she approached, she saw a noble-looking couple with their daughter. Better a daughter than a son at this particular point in time. Ana had some very judgemental thoughts about the girl's polished looking outfit and hair, that would also probably apply to her own appearance when she was close enough to make out the girl's face. Her smile widened as she recognized the pureblood. It was Astrea! The two had only actually spoken a handful of times, but in Ana's book, Astrea was brave, trustworthy, and certainly someone she would consider an ally if not a friend. She had taken a hex for Ana at that stupid ball and subsequently visited her in the hospital. Certainly, someone who had made it into Ana's good graces.

As she finally reached her mother's side, she overheard something about Hogwarts and the same year. Lovely to know that her mother was talking about her behind her back... Was it technically behind her back if Ana was facing her? Ana wasn't sure and she really didn't care, the sentiment still stood.

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interactions @Anastasia Beckett
word count 723 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence, lovely creature
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The Beckett Manor was quite a beauty in it of itself, floral pink against cream sheets set up upon a flawlessly manicured lawn. Intricately painted teapots alongside platters of pretty-looking food upon tables and tables shaded by ivory tent work. It was the elite Victorian lady's natural habitat- which really meant that it was perfectly acceptable for such a high blood pureblood establishment. Astrea didn't have to be looking at the front-lit figures of her parents to know that the Becketts had passed at least one of their expectations- only a gateway feat to truly impressing such stoic fakes. From the thin pocket of air left between the Lord and Lady she could very clearly glimpse at her mother's hands, white-gloved and elegant, tapping slowly against the dark sleeve of the Lord's heavy attire, an intimidating couple pressed close as they ventured further into a lion's den. Their heir, hidden between their silhouettes, had both the beauty of her mother and the presence of her father, and yet Astrea felt as if it wasn't enough. For the second time in what was perhaps only two minutes, she felt incompetent in comparison.

They were getting closer to the main area where the hosts had set up and it was very apparent to Astrea that this garden party was not one intended for her. No, it seemed that all the children had either been sent off to summer camp in London- the Hufflepuff vs Durmstrang International Quidditch match was happening this summer, she still regretted having been forced to stay home and attend the seemingly endless pureblood outlets that always occurred around this time- or skimped out on such a tedious chore of an event. The entire area was overrun by fellow aristocrats, past 30 by the very least and no doubt the absolute gem of what a good pureblood family should be like. Marry young, act classy, embody all those old and traditional priorities.

It was decently into the afternoon and the sun was well out, but Astrea still felt somewhat cold. Maybe it was the silk of her dress, chilled with shade and the wind of the carriage ride. From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother flash a charming smile, thanking Lady Beckett for the invitation and complimenting the layout as her father stood politely at her side. Tedious work. She couldn't imagine her future as another socialite, constantly bound to tittering small talk and greetings amongst other equally-duty-bound adults. Maybe that was another way she took after Lord Neptune-stoic and traditional her father was, most definitely the type of person to command a room with presence alone. That presence she inherited from him ensured that anyways.

Zoning out blankly as Lord Neptune and Lady Chou exchanged pleasantries with Lady Beckett- a familiar scene with a different face- she took to observing the area around her. She didn't get very far- nor did she really care much- when something caught her eye. An approaching figure emerged from somewhere in the area, deep brown curls pulled messily half-up in a braid and cutting a sharp contrast compared to their dress, which was cinched at the waist with a chunky pale pink belt. A bold choice- perhaps this the Beckett heiress? She had been told of the other just enough to have some sort of vague impression of a reportedly beautiful girl prim and proper, around her age, most certainly of high rank by will of birth and likely in her year, but not enough to actually be given a specific name. A gracious grin- what? Astrea's eyes widened slightly as she recognised the other before she realised what she was doing and flattened out her expression, offering a slight nod of greeting towards the apparent heir of the house.

Anastasia. She, of course, knew of the other's aristocratic status- it was hard to forget such a prominent shared trait- but hadn't expected to meet the other at all during the summer. Especially on the lawn of Ana's- Anastasia Beckett- family manor, forced mutually to attend an event clearly not for them. Either way, what a pleasant surprise. As reckless as the other was, the Gryffindor had a good head and Astrea didn't regret her impulse decision to take that spell for her at the Blossom Ball. Those burns were nasty things.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune

Ana resisted the urge to let out a thrilled cackle at the sight of the Slytherin. Maybe this party wouldn't be half as dull as she had anticipated. To be fair, she hoped it wouldn't be quite as exciting as the last party she and Astrea had attended together. Her long since healed injuries were definitely not something Ana was seeking to replicate, especially not in front of her parents. As funny as the thought of setting her mother's party on fire was, she somehow doubted it would be remotely appreciated, and there was absolutely no way it would be worth the scolding she would get. She wasn't certain they could punish her much more than they had, seeing as she was grounded, but she didn't think she wanted to push them on that subject.

Lately, it had seemed like she couldn't so much as speak to her parents without things escalating into an argument and resulting in Ana getting sent to her room. This was more than her usual feelings of constant inadequacy and failure. Her parents had always been strict and had high expectations, but something felt different. Maybe it was Ana's changed attitude, maybe it was a change in her parents. Whatever it was, it felt like a ticking bomb that was bound to explode. What an explosion might entail was a mystery to Ana. There was the obvious possibility of being disowned, something that constantly dogged Ana like a sword hanging over her head. That seemed a bit extreme but not an impossibility, given that her cousin had been disowned previously, and Purebloods being disowned was far more common than it ought to be. Ana seemed like a perfect child, with her flawless marks, focus on ballet, and overall appearance, but nothing was ever as it seemed in that world.

Ana didn't think dwelling on her overdramatic thoughts was the best idea, at least not now. She was at a party, so she had to appear serene and happy, whether she was or not. Better still, she had a friend here who would hopefully make this whole thing slightly less tedious. She stood demurely as her mother made meaningless small talk. Ana bristled slightly when her father felt it necessary to rest a hand on her shoulder. The Becketts were not affectionate or touchy parents, and the combination of the two to put up the facade of proud parents enraged Anastasia. If they were going to put on the show in front of others, was it really too much for Ana to ask for that to extend to behind closed doors?

She knew it was more than likely that she and Astrea would be left alone together when their parents bored of showing off their respective show dogs. Her parents and really all Purebloods tendency to leave their children alone in a group at parties had always confused rather Ana. She had gotten into more than a little bit of mischief in groups of adolescent Purebloods when she was younger, and even now, she wasn't exactly the perfect lady others expected when her parents left her and her cohort to their own devices.

As she tuned out her parents and whatever falsely sweet small talk they were exchanging with Astrea's parents, she smiled slightly at the other Pureblood. She was sure both of them knew the drill by now, but, at least for Ana, that didn't make it any closer to tolerable. If anything, it made the coying sweetness even more sickening. She wasn't even asking for her parents to back up the act of doting perfect parents they put on for their friends, she was just asking for them to pay attention to her beyond criticizing her every move. Things she couldn't even control were fair play for them, such as her sorting. She could already hear the passive-aggressive dinner talk that was bound to take place that evening since Astrea was a Slytherin. Ana was far beyond being ashamed or embarrassed about her placement into Gryffindor, but that didn't seem to mean a thing to her parents. As Astrea could well attest to, Ana was quite possibly one of the most Gryffindor Gryffindors ever to Gryffindor.

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word count 719 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence, lovely creature
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mentions @Anastasia Beckett, Lord Neptune and Lady Chou, Lord and Lady Beckett

The afternoon air was sweet with light floral notes and every sugary semblance of a perfect family, lit with pretty golden sunlight that cast a great black shadow on the blinded windows from under decorated overhangs with a facade of ivory that Astrea was all too familiar with. Add that with the fact that the party guests seemed just as uppity and highly-strung as you would expect from their ranks, clad in nice silk and lace-draped hats, and you were absolutely sure to get as much of a spotless, passive-aggressive garden party as every Victorian lady would die for. It looked very much the picture-perfect event as it was supposed to be, polished clean of any social dings and primped prettily to appeal to all the unspoken guidelines on 'how-a-party-was-supposed-to-run-like.' The unmarred perfection of everything, attended by those leagues ahead of her in age and experience, made Astrea somewhat uneasy.

Her mother's hand rested upon the top of her head gently as Lady Chou introduced her as their heir, pale fingers caressing dark hair with a touch that felt more condescending than anything. Her parents were not the type for hugs and kind words- affection was a private thing, kept under wraps behind doors and under the guise of twilight, and the Lord and Lady were not ones for affection. The light touch upon her crown felt heavy with intangible expectations and salty indifference, but Astrea did not make any move to nudge it off- she was sure it would boost up the perfect nuclear family look by bounds. Her father's gaze boring into the back of her head, expecting her best behaviour- as if she wasn't always- was crushingly oppressive, drawing little tingly feelings of dread as she stayed as silent and stoic, a statuette of grace. She was sure that if she were to turn around and meet her father's scrutiny without a plan like an utter fool, she would find his eyes imposing and hard as a rock, just as grey and uninviting. Authoritative and yet somehow dismissive.

Half-tuning out whatever conversation her lady mother was chatting on about, she is quite pleasantly surprised when she heard her mother's cultured voice entertain the idea of letting her wander around at least until she was required. The Four Bloodlines were a possessive sort and it wasn't often that Astrea was permitted to mingle- perhaps it was because Anastasia was there, they could chaperone each other-, quite usually kept in their line of sight at all times, a show pony of their good genes and teachings. Polite. Seen, not heard. Emotionally collared and leashed.

Right in front of her, Anastasia gives a soft smile. Astrea does not break her impeccable posture, does not drop the careful stillness under the cusp of her mother's hand, but her eyes soften in response. A sign of recognition, a promise of a conversation. Caring not for whatever blather that's happening right above and behind her, her father chiming into the conversation occasionally and sharing a laugh or two, Astrea's gaze focuses instead on the queen-Gryffindor-of Gryffindor herself, flaming pillar of fire and master of bad decisions that embodied Ana.

The hand upon her retracts and suddenly all that's above her is the warm sunshine and Lord Neptune's cold indifference. "-stay close to Anastasia." A nod, a slight bow to the Lord and Lady Beckett. "It was a pleasure to meet you both." Her mother's laugh, a tinkling sound of music that carried in the wind, sounded off at the sentence- an act of nonchalance, of course. If she hadn't done so, she would get in so much trouble otherwise, but it was always better to play it off as a well-behaved child. Astrea knew better than to oppose the family. "Of course. Now go on, dear. Come back when we call you." "Yes, ma'am."

Sweet freedom. Finally relinquished from her lord's glare, Astrea escaped from the scene with a graceful kind of haste that bellied years of careful lessons on propriety- leave without a sound, without betraying your insistence so blatantly in fear of gossip, but with a proper speediness that ensures fluid exit. If Ana were released in such the merciful way as she had been, it would be a fine, fine thing. Purebloods and their strict etiquette. What a drag.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune

Ana fidgeted slightly in her overly prim lawn wearing her overly prim outfit. Was this really to be her life for the next billion years? Perfection had to get boring at some point. Hell, it was already boring. Ana couldn't imagine going to party after party until she died. Did they melt everyone's brain when they graduated Hogwarts? That was honestly the only explanation she could think of for anyone to be satisfied with life this boring and picture-perfect after nearly dying every five minutes for seven years. Sure, it might be relaxing for a bit, but forever? Forget it.

She decided to focus on Astrea since doing otherwise would likely result in yet another lecture about proper conduct when introducing oneself and all that mess. The faint softening in Astrea's eyes was comforting, like a lifeline in a sea of perfect pastel-colored boredom. Fortunately, it seemed that she was about to get a break from the boredom, as their parents seemed to have decided that the pair were appropriate companions for one another.

That still struck her as odd, that parents were so at ease sending their child off with someone that was a practical stranger simply because they came from a so-called respectable family. If she were a parent, she would never let her children anywhere near anyone remotely like herself, and there was no way of knowing that from spending five minutes around someone's child who wasn't speaking for the majority of that. There was no way for Ana's parents to know that Astrea was the type to attend an illegal ball and then attempt to duel a random student, and there was no way for Astrea's parents to know that Ana was the type to pull any of the insane shit she pulled.

Ana's father shot her a look that communicated his strong pre-disapproval if she did anything that would make Astrea, and thus her family, think anything other than favorably of the Beckett name. If only he knew...

The pair were released and Ana began the stupid prim Pureblood walk that it seemed everyone did. It was far too slow for her tastes, with its strange mincing steps, but it was the socially acceptable way for people to circle gardens and such and Ana really didn't feel like dealing with more lectures than she was already going to. "God, I thought they were going to keep talking forever," Ana said, her tone low enough that only her companion could hear. An observer might see two well-dressed school girls standing stiffly enough to balance a stack of books and assume they were discussing something frivolous or at least somewhat proper. They would be wrong.

"So, this is far more pleasant than the last event we saw one another at," Ana said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I find this far less toasty." Ana's joke about her time as a ball of fire was probably not in what one might call good taste and she would definitely smack or at least hex anyone else who had said it, but she figured she had at least earned the right to joke about it.

In any event, at this point, Ana highly doubted she could offend or surprise Astrea much. The Slytherin had seen her punch a random Ravenclaw, go running at a mosp, and set herself on fire within the space of about ten minutes and still decided to try to help her, so she was someone Ana thought highly of and had at least earned some small amount of Ana's loyalty and friendship.

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word count 644 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence, lovely creature
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mentions @Anastasia Beckett, Lord Neptune and Lady Chou, Lord and Lady Beckett

Anastasia did not look nearly as comfortable as she was supposed to be, under the watch of Lord and Lady Beckett. Maybe it was an effect of the carefully balanced surroundings or the ever so slight breeze that blew by, but Astrea could wholeheartedly relate. Even with the white sun pouring down upon the green turf, she felt cold. Chilled just slightly to the point of uncomfortableness, it was realistically a product of the exceedingly silky material of her outfit against the air or the forceful apathy draped upon herself from the inside out. She wasn't sure which was more likely. Or which was worse.

How lucky it was that Astrea at least had Ana in the sea of proper, mature pureblood society. Well, not really. It was only expected that the heir of the house would be in, especially to such a social event as a quaint garden party, but there was also that sliver of a chance that they would be sent off to their school summer camp. Personally, the Neptune-Chou heir hadn't even brought it up, knowing all-to-well the stern talking to that would result by even suggesting such a thing. She was getting older now, nearly a young lady, and needed to immerse herself into finer company than the ones who took up most of her years- as if she hadn't been drenched to the chin with formality from birth, made heavier the day of her social debut into the genteel world. With every appearance, she was not only representing herself in the future but her parents and the Four Bloodlines as a whole to all those who she happen to have the pleasure of meeting.

The Beckett next-in-line was a welcome respite from the already-suffocating way of life they had been born into. "They may as well be." Just quiet enough to be held within their tiny bubble, not enough to be carried by the wind. How slanderous would it be, to announce their words aloud to the public. They were getting slowly farther from the conversing quadro that were their parents, but even at the distance they were clearing, Astrea could guess the topics discussed by pure memory alone. After tailing along with her parents to countless events, she was well-acquainted with the unsaid universal list of respectable things to speak about in a similarly respectable community- examples being their surrounding event, the food, their families, their heirs and the latest gossip. Of course, all seamlessly blended together into conversation with discrete judgementalism. Head held high, slightly tilted toward her companion in a move to simultaneously acknowledge the other and yet keep properly engaged with the world surrounding, gait smooth and dainty. The mask of properness was something easy to put on, a reward for years of tucking emotions halfway back to last place.

"So, this is far more pleasant than the last event we saw one another at. I find this far less toasty." What an understatement. But alas, understatements were the way to a noble's heart it seemed. "The insect spray must have worked wonders. After all, it seems that our company has drawn all sorts of unsavoury creatures." The Slytherin tilted her head just so to convey a sage nod, the lurking meaning to her words lost to any distant onlooker as they merely witnessed two crown heirs sharing in the presence of each other. The mosps that had come upon the BlossomBall. The waspish elites that surrounded them, buzzing conversation into their ears like cicadas.

Their elders might care all too much about their reputations, but Astrea truly doubted that she could disgrace herself in the face of such the presence as Anastasia. Hogwarts toughened them up enough, carving out jutting spikes of impulse and sanding down the rough corners of their upbringing just enough to slide along the building blocks of a mixed society.

Ana visibly relaxed as the distance between the pair and her parents grew. Lately, with that persistent argument over her potential betrothal, or more accurately, her refusal to even pretend to cooperate in any way with said betrothal, had caused no small amount of tension. While Anastasia was certainly a force of nature, she was also a thirteen-year-old girl. She took no pleasure in displeasing her parents, the opposite actually. She yearned for their approval more than nearly anything else in life. Still, this was something she wasn't willing to compromise on. She didn't know what was going to happen with this, so she pushed it to the back of her mind and focused on the lovely day and company before her.

Ana let out a snort which she quickly turned into a lady like laugh at Astrea's comment. She hated the way this fake laugh sounded. The entire point of laughing was to express enjoyment of something, but how was she expected to do that when she had to sound the exact way her parents thought she ought to? She smiled slightly at the thought of the mockery she would have received from Rafa or Eyre about that stupid laugh. She herself would have mocked anyone who sounded like that. It was so stupid and fake and lady-like. So un-Ana.

Her entire life was un-Ana, it seemed. Events like these had gradually gone from her running around with the other young children, stuffing her face with sweets, and even occasionally biting people to this stiffening airless facade. Every single one of these monotonous seemed to be the same at this point. The backdrop changed from ballroom to garden to ice skating rink, the costumes changed with the seasons, but the players and their lines remained exactly the same.

She didn't want this to be her life, but there also wasn't a way out she saw. Not soon anyway. Once she came of age and had her money from her aunt, she would laugh as she played Quidditch and frolicked Europe, but that was years off. Could she even make it that long?

"It would seem there's less of an insect problem and more of a reptile problem, " Ana said. "I've seen more snakes this afternoon than I have in months. No disrespect intended to your house." Every single one of the other guests was snakelike. A rather assuming thought struck her - Astrea was the only person in that garden who she even remotely trusted. She loved her parents, but she had learned a long time ago she couldn't trust them for a moment.

Her bored fingers fiddled with a thread bracelet that her mother had taken issue with when she was dressing but hadn't felt passionately enough to make Ana take off. It seemed the prolonged fight was wearing on both of them, and there wasn't an end in sight. Ana wasn't sure what end she was even looking for at this point. For her parents to back down? That was an impossibility, she knew that.

"How has your summer been thus far?" Ana asked. "I hope a touch more interesting than mine." She did her best not to fidget, but she wanted nothing more than a mosp or hag to attack their party so she could run away. Could someone die of boredom? She wasn't sure. She knew she would sooner than later if that was something that actually happened.

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word count 580 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence, lovely creature
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mentions @Anastasia Beckett

The slip from an amused snort that Astrea's etiquette tutors would have grasped their pearls at to a proper dignified laugh sounded strange coming from Anastasia. It wasn't that the other wasn't dignified- ah, the other was plenty proper compared to the normality of their Sparkless-exposed yearmates- but the contrast of that to her memory of the Beckett heiress run at a mosp with a half-torn ballgown and a bouquet of flowers. Followed directly after by the flurry of events that had ended with Astrea bruised all down half her side for weeks and Anastasia recovering in the Hospital Wing from intense burns. It was a jarring reminder that the other was in the same boat of monotony as she, stuck in a cyclical pattern of numbing routine.

"No disrespect taken. The sentiment is shared." The Slytherin sent a wide glance over of the entire horizon of pastels and ruffles, the subtle flick of the eyes giving her all the information she already knew and needed. The constant coy fluttering of hand fans, tilting of tophats, kissing of hands. Very respectable. Subdued and similar. Her father and mother would most likely be engaged in much the same conversation, a diversity token of old money- they were out of hearing range now but Astrea could bet that that if she caved and looked back, Lady Chou would have unlinked her arm from her her husbands, exchanging small talk as Lord Neptune caught up stoically with Anastasia's father.

Most of the pureblood kith and kin attending had probably been in Slytherin at one point or another regardless, she almost felt bad for past classes for having to deal with such haughty people sullying their house name. Two-faced and lacking care for those around them not related to their family matters, they were not merely clowns but the entire circus seeking to become the reason why the house of snakes had a bad reputation. "It must be a spell of congregation." An uncommonly common gathering of high purebloods, treated as a grand situation as if a pit of solitary reptiles pulled into a pit and forced to act civilly.

Oh, how she dreaded the idea of her future. Tiptoeing around the technicalities of what was the modern equivalent of court life, sidling through every interaction as if her last in appropriate company- with their complicated code of conduct, it may as well be. To speak was to risk embarrassment, to keep quiet was to risk shame. To stay secluded now as the numbers of purebloods dwindled was to forsake themselves and yet to keep too active in the community invited gossip. There was no way around it- Astrea was loyal to her clans and while she held no fond feelings, it would be defamation to not live up to her duties.

Somewhat apologetically she shook her head in response to the inquiry, regrettably unable to claim anything particularly interesting in the handful of days of break. "My summer? Ah- Unfortunately just as uneventful." She was not yet 13- soon Astrea would be thrown into high society far deeper than she had ever been- but by the end of the year she would be. So far, her summer had been a string of quiet days in which she had spent most of her time alone, occasionally joining her mother or father at set intervals. It had been like that since her first year, would continue like that until she had crossed into early teenhood. A waste of life. A waste of strife.