Rest Stop PV Elena Jones Finished

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[font=Abadi MT Condensed Light]Elena was looking at Celynne with eyes full of awe, “If I said you were extraordinarily good at this, would you take it as a compliment.”

The room was similarly decorated in a fancy style that English and Hong Kong socialites clawed after, but that any self respecting Singaporean or Australian would vomit upon the sight of. To Elena, it was just about as fancy and darkly wallpapered as the horrendous common room she’d have to deal with for another several years. The bed itself was carved with the curves usually only reserved for crown mouldings and the extraordinarily tasteless, a smaller chandelier was hanging out up above them, and for gods sakes was that a burgundy rug?

“I can pretend to be a pureblood for a while, I already have a fake accent I’ve been practicing for years, I’m actually a true accented cockney if I drop this.” Elena smiled proudly, “Is there anything that I should know about your family’s reputation or anything before I go swimming with the proverbial piranhas? Or something all pureblood kids should know, I know nothing about languages other than scientific linguistics. I can do science if that’s a thing.”

Elena didn’t look nervous, but she sure as hell felt it.[/font]

Utile non debet por inutile vitiari.

She responded with a disbelieving snort but also a crooked grin as her hand reached out for the stately doorknob. "You get used to it, with a stepmother like Svana. I have practice. And I guess a good example to learn from—Dorian's still on vacation, otherwise I think you two would be great friends." The girl sighed, rolling her eyes at the thought. "What a sight that would be. As long as you act like you've got a massive stick up your butt and pretend to be the most docile child ever, she should be able ignore your hair, though she might ask about it... uh, make up some random details about how the Crane family is doing, that part's up to you because I was out of bloodline studies as soon as they let me out of the room. But if she asks too much then you should change the subject, because you don't want to give yourself away.

"If you're anything like my brother, your first instinct will be to rebel or argue, and I get it, but if you want to go to California, that's not going to work. We'll be out of this by tomorrow, so you'll only have to pretend for a few hours before we leave. Just, like, ramble about scientific linguistics and she'll think you're a studious young lady that I should be more like and start pointing out things that I could improve on," she ended brightly, then frowned at the image before her, glaring down at her disapprovingly from inside of the doorway. "Oh, my. I'm sorry you have to live in this for more than five minutes. I'd offer you a different room, but Svana would be after my blood."

From the moment she stepped into the house, Cel had been fully convinced that the only decent-looking rooms were the bedrooms and her office. Seriously, who came up with the trend for dark wallpaper? Dark wallpaper was the worst. Chandeliers were pretty and arches could be too, but there were certain things that just made you feel like a vampire in a medieval castle that smelled like iron all the time, and that was gross. She found sanctuary in her own room. And she felt bad for Elena, honestly. "Anything else you need to pick up before we leave tomorrow, or should I just bid you buona notte?"

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[font=Abadi MT Condensed Light]Elena laughed, "Docile and a stick up my butt, got it. That sounds like something I can do, I'll just run music in my head the whole time and try not to bop along... bloodline studies?"

Elena squinted and looked confused, "But, I thought you were one of the only O students in third year, I remember hearing someone talk about how good you were, and you can sing like an absolute champion. Why would she..."

She looked around the room again, taking in the interesting avante guard design choices throughout the bedroom. It was clear what style they went for with this, if I Have Money is a style.

"It's fine, that's probably going to be one of the comfiest beds I'll ever sleep on, I can forgive clashing burgundy and blue if the bed is comfy." Elena hummed as she looked around, then did a relatively good attempt to copy Cel's pronunciation, "Buona notte it is my friend, I'll see you tomorrow. Before you go, do you want anything like a book or some music or... I brought a lot of stuff like that with me. Also I give you a standing offer to run off on adventures with me every single holiday from now to forever."[/font]

Injuria solvit amorem.

The Slytherin's words startled a little laugh out of her. "Is that what people say behind my back, is it?" she chuckled, turning back with a raised eyebrow. "Svana can be kind of... controlling. I just go about dealing with it a different way than Dorian. My grades might be good, but that's because I'm interested, not because I want to please my stepmother. She's more focused on keeping me safe and proper. I get it. I really do. But she can't lock me in here forever, and she gets mad because she's human, and I can't take it." Cel shrugged a little wistfully.

Dorian was different. She wanted to keep Dorian proper, obedient. She wanted to keep Cel safe, close. But unfortunately, she went about achieving both goals in the same way. And while Dorian decided to become as contrary as humanly possible, with his ear piercings and back talking, Cel was accustomed to the route of going along with her whims as of now. She understood, though she disagreed—it was easier to follow her orders and get away with more than to stay stubborn and take the consequences. She didn't make it her business whether or not Dorian chose what she thought was wiser, either. That was a preference, not a set fact. And someday Svana would realize she couldn't shelter her stepdaughter forever.

"Books?" Cel chirped, perking up immediately, before settling again in thought. "You know, normally I'd say yes in a heartbeat, but I'm afraid that if I set my eyes on a cover I won't get my packing done. Frankly, I'm exhausted." Certainly, a House Elf could pack for her with a snap of its wrist, or Rasmus or Svana, but they didn't know the way she wanted her baggage packed, and she'd never be able to find anything later. She could just cast the spell herself, except that was illegal, so actually she couldn't.

"Arrivaderci, then," she enunciated with a flourish, Italian farewell rolling off her tongue as she grinned her adieu. "Until tomorrow morning." Most likely she was supposed to offer some kind of other polite brummagem and, uh, do some other stuff or whatever, which, yes, that was very precise, but her social battery had been drained too much for her to care much, and she had work to do. The girl slipped out the door, leaving Elena to her own devices, and began making her way back to her own room, ready to make use of the fact that the other wing being soundproof blast music until someone came in to yell at her.