Pristine

‘ Is insincerity such a terrible thing ? ’

[bellissima-zabini]

black wedding.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

adamma:

A giggle trickled from her lips at his cough, knowing she’d caught him off guard. “They say a slip of the tongue is the subconscious speaking, darling,” Ada couldn’t help but continue to tease, because it was far too fun. “Goodness - did your mother truly resort to planning everything?”

his lips curve upwards at the sound of her laughter. “they say many things, Miss, but rarely ever is it worthwhile.” he nods towards the entrance. “Carnations and Chrysanthemums.” he says. “hardly just an aesthetic.”

[sourires-et-masques-deactivated]

Black Wedding {13th June’79}

“Yes, smiles and happiness. How wonderful!”

[try-not-to-bore-me]

His lips curved upwards. “a delight to have you with us, Carrow.”

[emilyblunts]

[try-not-to-bore-me]

@bellissima-zabini

[try-not-to-bore-me]

black wedding.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

vince:

“Is this all a bit of for….fore…” Vince’s nose wrinkled as he couldn’t remember the word for what he was trying to say. “We’re looking into the future, I think. She’s picking all your flowers too, you know.”

he sighs. “nothing’s been decided, Crabbe.” he said. “i suggest you not encourage Mother’s presumptuous behavior.”

[bellissima-zabini]

black wedding.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

adamma:

“Much less of an audience?” A mischievousness tugging at her lips. “Mister Avery, are you trying to get me alone…” Ada couldn’t help but tease, knowing those probably weren’t his intentions at all, he was far too proper for that. “I am, very much so. The ceremony was lovely. And your sister looked so beautiful, I hadn’t seen her long enough to tell her myself. Your mother must be proud.”

he coughed into his hand at her teasing. “a slip of the tongue, Miss Zabini.” he said, not missing the mischief in her tone. a small smile pulled at his lips as she spoke. there was delight, and excitement. her features moved along delicately as she spoke. “ah, yes.” he said. “Mother’s doing, the ceremony. there was much thought she’d put into everything.” he nodded, his smile remaining in place, but his mind wandering for a moment. Cassandra Black, now, no longer an Avery.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

frank:

“Oh, Avery, you’re no fun.”

“our definitions of fun appear to not overlap, Longbottom.”

[try-not-to-bore-me]

black wedding.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

lihua:

“Did you see what Karina Selwyn is wearing, though?” she asked conspiratorially. “Who wears white to a wedding when they aren’t the bride?”

“why yes, i have.” he smirks. “but you must excuse her, Miss Parkinson.” he says, though his tone does not suggest sympathy. “i hear she’s been having -- troubles, with dear Mr. Selwyn.”

[bellissima-zabini]

black wedding.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

adamma:

Ada looked up at him with a grin, “Well, if that’s the case, please do proceed. Don’t let me stop you.”

he lifted an eyebrow, smirk in place. “perhaps with less of an audience, i would be more willing.” he said, as they halted beside one of the many long windows. he regarded her with a tilt of the head. “you are enjoying yourself this evening, i hope?”

[bellissima-zabini]

black wedding.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

adamma:

Ada waited with baited breath until Cyrine eventually graced her with a small smile, allowing Calisto to go with her. Eyes flicking towards his arm, she smiled, easily slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I promise I’ll return him to you,” Ada promised with a winning smile, before leading him away, whispering quietly, “No need to thank me, you know.”

“No?” he smirked, leaning slightly closer. “and here i had such verses of gratitude at the tip of my tongue.”

[bellissima-zabini]

black wedding.

@try-not-to-bore-me

Ada practically glided over to Cyrine Avery, a hand reaching to tap her gently on the shoulder before it returned to her other that was clasped in front of her. She’d noted the half-visible pain in Calisto’s face and figured she would save him. “Mrs. Avery, would it be quite alright if I borrowed your son?”

[try-not-to-bore-me]

Calisto had been in the process of listening to Cyrine Avery as she whispered in his ear, pointing out, yet again, the lovely people who had come and the advantages of making friends, and he was quite certain she was soon to send him along to say hello, when a lovely voice had interrupted them.

He carefully did not smile, but his shoulders have straightened the slightest touch, his head tilted a little towards his mother --- she caught his gestures, and their meanings, and a small, political smile graced her lips. “Yes, my dear, of course.”

He bowed his head respectfully, and turned towards Miss Zabini, his arm lifted a little. a small smile curved his lips. “if i may?”

[try-not-to-bore-me]

black wedding.

his smile is bland, his tone is pleasant, his mind is only half here. “yes,” he says. “the flowers. Mother’s choice, of course, the best of the best.”

[try-not-to-bore-me]

adamma:

“I would certainly hope they hold meaning,” Ada told him, the slightest edge of sarcasm in her words as a soft smile curved her lips. The slightest bit of color rose in her cheeks at his compliment, eyes falling to her hands. “Show…you.” A smile returned to her, coming much wider than before. She didn’t even respond, didn’t give it a second thought, flitting to the opposite side of the room towards where her record player sat. A wave of her hand sent her music collection into the air allowing her to flip through it until she found one of her favorites, a short muggle variation from a foreign play, but Ada thought it was a sprightly masterpiece, placing it on easily. Every quick turn, every graceful lift of her arms, every point of her toes - there was a smile, a giggle even. It was almost as if Calisto wasn’t there as she twirled from one end of the room to the other using the space in front and around him for her dance. The song hummed from her lips too, a happiness flooding from her core, bathing her in a silvery light.

Music he did not recognize played out. Weightless, graceful, fluid as silk, her steps hardly seemed as such, her movements more a swan’s glide than the pattering of feet, and Calisto’s breath was caught. for a moment. there was a shift he felt, a shift he found familiar but difficult to place --- it was akin to the time he stood in the presence of Un jour du printemps for the first time, in the presence of a masterpiece, a painting of breath taking beauty and colour.

The joy, however. it shined through, it was familiar. He remembers a time when such passion was all he’s ever known, in his work.

He does not remember a time such passion bathed him in light, as it bathed her now. He thinks he’s imagined it, for a moment, but he hadn’t. Her dance is arresting, nonetheless, and he finds himself unable to look away.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

frank:

Frank laughed. “Avery, you’re just being extra touchy. Honestly, it’s a usual thing and their hormones must be raging. Cut them some slack.”

Calisto only rolled his eyes a touch, going back to the book in his hands without a word.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

Wayward.

[try-not-to-bore-me]

amycus:

Calisto’s jaw tightened and Amycus rethought his decision to speak up but, the uttering of his first name vouched for the bond they both shared and he spilled the secret that was eating him up little by little. Corroding his already abraded insides. Calisto knew the sort of person Amycus was or, at least, had had a closer look than most yet, he’d sought to help him out. Amycus owed that much to his mentor.

“Fight wouldn’t really be the way to describe it. We had a difference of opinion which my sister construed as abandonment and has since not met me.” His tone was short and clipped bordering on casual but, one could hear the undertones of hurt and anger in it.

Calisto hummed, quietly. He leaned back in his chair in thought. “a misunderstanding, then.” he said. it was not a surprise, and he felt a bit more at ease with this revelation. He’d grown up in the laps of schemers and liars, misunderstandings were a common currency. He was familiar with them. He would not have been so certain, had it been a quarrel. he tilted his head. “and you’ve yet to attempt to clear it up.” it was not a question.

[bellissima-zabini]

take me far away ;

[try-not-to-bore-me]

adamma:

“A diamond encrusted sword seems hardly functional.” Ada mused, lips twisting in thought. “I’d like one.” She decided, after pausing for a beat. As Calisto mentioned the piece of literature, asked her if she’d heard of it, Ada shook her head. She’d always thought she was quite well read, but the man beside her always seemed to be exposing her to something new, something fond always in his voice as he spoke of such art and literature. “Of course - if it’s as lovely as you say, I’d like to read it.”

Her brows pulled together delicately, a knowing hint of a smile on her lips as the color rose in his cheeks. Calisto Avery blushing? Embarrassed? She wished she had a muggle camera for this. “I see.” She said, a laugh following. “No no, you’re right, we aren’t.” Her eyes flitted to the box in his hands once more. “Well - I’d certainly get great use out of it. I could put many of my pieces in there.”

“you’d be surprised.” he chuckled. “one might just be around here somewhere, if we look hard enough.” He shook his head as well. “a shame,” he said, “but for the best, i suppose – it isn’t quite a story for the faint of heart.” He nodded.”it is.” he said. “i will have it owled at the earliest, then.”

He hummed, a corner of his mouth pulled upwards. “then it’s settled.” he said,snapping his fingers for a worker.

They leave the tent soon after, and the air outside feels livelier, for some reason, at least to him – less stifling, and he endeavors to take a deep breath, fresh air filling his lungs. “well, veteran. what would you suggest for our next stop?”

[try-not-to-bore-me]

cassandra:

Mother. If I hear one more mija in her disapproving tone I’m going to scream. I don’t have a fear of commitment.

He shook his head, amused. “you hardly ever needed a reason to scream, Cassandra. Shaping up into quite a proper lady now, are you not?” His tone was not scathing, something akin to teasing in his words.

[aureus-meles]

not all you seem ( flashback )

[try-not-to-bore-me]

edgar:

Edgar tilted his head to the side with a small confused smile. “Why not?” he asked. “That’s sort of what it’s there for, isn’t it?” He grinned, nodding his head. “I like that,” he said. “It’s catchy. Clever. Sophisticated sounding.”

Edgar shook his head innocently. “You’ve just got to be polite and study up. It’s not so bad. I’ve talked to some of them in the forest before, and really. They’re quite interesting. I dunno’, I think they’re a little harshly judged.” He took another bite of his cookie and shook his head again. “No one told me not to either,” he pointed out, like it was wise.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “You think this is dramatic?”

“What it was meant to do, perhaps, but as it stands at the moment, it’s more a general outline than anything.” He shrugs. “most things Mother says are such.”

Calisto blinked. twice. “you spoke with a centaur.” he whispered. “what was it like?” he paused. he blinked again. “did they have horns? ox-like horns? do they have – they have a unique greeting, how did you communicate?” almost physically, Calisto stopped himself from asking anything else.

He rolled his eyes. “pearls of wisdom, Bones, i am simply astounded to be in your presence.” his eyebrows creased a touch. “quite.”