Gwenhwyfar entered the library as quietly as she could, trying not to draw attention to herself. There was something distinctly suspicious about a girl walking into the library shoeless and dusty with her hair tumbled all around her, and the last thing Gwen needed was for the librarian to see something so unusual about her that he remembered her face. The library, after all, was headquarters for SASUH and her main source for information. If she was no longer able to come here unobserved, then she was in serious trouble.
She managed to fly under the radar yet again, however. She wondered if it was because she felt so dwarfed by the place and so afraid of being detected, but she didn't dwell on it. It was too abstract for her taste. She had seen what abstractions could do to a person, especially a woman, up close and had no desire to end up like that. Better dead that like that. She didn't head for the table in the back where the meeting had been held, but instead took a mostly hidden table in an odd-angled little corner, one that was situated where she could see everything without being seen. Perfect.
There was really very little to do until Connor arrived, because she could hardly do much roaming in her current state. Her pride was one consideration-it just didn't do to let people see her all in a mess- and practicality was another-she stood out while all in a mess. People were usually on their best behavior in a library. They certainly didn't look like they had just been rolling in the dirt. Drumming her fingers on the table, she glanced at the nearest shelf and then shook her head with disgust. Nothing useful. Nothing at all-
She paused, trying to remember what she thought she had seen, and looked again at the bookshelf. There it was, the very thing she had been hoping to find but certain she wouldn't. The pureblood genealogies. Why the government would allow such a controversial text to be in the library was a bit above Gwenhwyfar, but there seemed to be a small section devoted to the blood conflict and she wasn't trying very hard to work it out. What she cared about was the fact that she had found what she needed.
On an impulse, she flipped to the letter 'C'. Calvert...Cambury...Carey. The public version of the family history and pedigree was there in tiny, blurred print, and at the end was a family tree. She traced it down to the bottom, squinting at the names to make them out. At the very bottom was a list of ten names. This book was recent, then. No earlier than 2001, for Edmond to be listed. She read over the names. Elen Igraine, dead at two months old. Arthur Edwardius, died at three days old. Justina Alyse, dead at two years old. Gwenhwyfar Elaine, living. Morgaine Isond, living. Gwyneth Ailsa, dead at three years old. Geoffrey Antonius, stillborn. Constantine Gareth, dead at a year old. Helena Vivian, stillborn. Edmond Alasdair, living. Her and all nine of her siblings, immortalized on paper. It was odd, seeing her name in a book. She had seen it written in the family Bible, of course, and in books like this at home, but it was different when it was a book who only knew how many people might have looked at.
A small sound somewhere in the depths of the library pulled her back to reality. She snapped the book shut and put it back in its place on the shelf, wincing internally. That was not a book she wanted to be caught looking at, not in her current position. She would be back, though. She knew that much.
She returned to the table, her brain working furiously. It was seeing something that reminded her of what she had been, she knew. Just a reflex, like kicking someone who hit you on the knee. Suddenly, she couldn't wait around any longer. She was going to go find something to work with-stuff about the school, spellbooks, and some other works that she thought could be useful in planning SASUH's don't-get-caught strategy.
It took her a good ten minutes to find enough on the topics to satisfy her, and she was only satisfied because she couldn't carry any more. She half-staggered back towards the corner table, thanking the saints that she wasn't in Aladren and that her heel had broken so she could discard her shoes. Putting them down as carefully as she could, she sat and started flipping through a book dealing with codes hidden in music. She noticed someone else come up. "Took you long enough," she said. She didn't sound angry, though. "Of course, I got lost twice and I've been here before, so I can't talk too much." \n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyBack in Anne's world. (tag: Connor)63Gwenhwyfar Carey15
OOC: Scurry is knowing that you is tagging Master Connor, but with such terrible dirtiness messing up Master Tarquin's lovely (soon to be) clean library.... Scurry is sure that you is understanding. BIC:
With so much to be done in preparation for the visitors who were expected at the end of the term Scurry was feeling - quite understandably - thrilled. There was cleaning and polishing and wiping and sweeping and avoiding that quill and mopping and dusting and scrubbing and keeping out of Grandmother Tuppy's path and being given orders by Master Paul Simon and occasionally when Master Paul Simon forgot there was also gardening and trimming of plants.
This wasn't one of those days however. This was a day in which Master Paul Simon had been most adament that Scurry should keep away from anything green and growing, and so he had been issued with a duster, a bag and a cloth and let loose in the library. The bag was already half full of cat hair when he rounded a shelf and saw.... disaster!
Hurrying forward with a barely held back wail about the terrible misfortune that miss had no doubt been through (Master Tarquin was very firm about a concept he called 'quiet in the Library' and Scurry had caught on eventually... with a great deal of set backs) he came up right behind her as was astonished to find that apparently he had been expected.
"Scurry is being terribly sorry, miss," he whispered apologetically while using the duster to ineffectually clonk himself on the head as punishment for obviously overlooking his clear duty. He could see the scuffs that her dusty feet had left going back through the shelves and presumably out the door, messing up the clean floor. The books on the table had grimy smears of dust clinging to the spines and fingermarks marred the top corners of the page she was currently reading. But that was nothing compared to the dust tht was still firmly attached to her... Scurry sorrowed that she was in such a terrible state.
Apologetically, he discarded both bag and cloth and started to dust, starting with young miss Carey's head.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Gwen had grown up more familiar with the voices of the house-elves than those of her parents, which was how she came close to correctly identifying the creature that answered her slightly cross remark. A quick look showed that it was a Prairie Elf, not a house-elf, but either way, it was an elf. The elf-Scurry-had apparently gotten the idea she was talking to him, given that he had hit himself in the head with a duster. She would have to handle him.
"You don't have to punish yourself," she said, taking care to speak clearly. She didn't know how familiar Scurry would be with the Lowcountry mode of speech.Sonora seemed to be a primarily Yankee and western school, so far. "You didn't do anything wrong." She didn't add that she was the one who had done something wrong. That just wasn't how you dealt with elves.
She almost exclaimed 'Trin-ny' aloud when Scurry started dusting her head. That was just the sort of things the elves at home would have done, and Trinny worst of all. That old house-elf really did think that Gwen was her own child, sometimes. She couldn't say she exactly liked being cleaned in the middle of a library, but it did mean that she wouldn't have to go around coated in dust for the next few hours.
"Thank you," she managed in between bouts of coughing. She hadn't realized just how much dust there was to be stirred up. She must have fallen straight into the middle of a mound of it at the bottom of the passage, and sitting on that dusty old sofa in Avalon hadn't helped much. She really should have gone to change before she came here. What would people think if they saw her? "You've done a very good job." She tried inhaling cautiously, and went into another fit of coughing. \n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyI was thinking the same thing.63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
how on earth did you get into such a state?
by Scurry
Most of Miss Carey's head was looking very nice and undusty and Scurry had turned his attention to dusting off her clothes. It was almost astounding, the clouds that were forming with each of his very careful strokes of the duster, sending worried glances at her when she started to cough. Not willing to leave the job half done but also not wanting to have her cough so furiously, Scurry bent and retrieved the cloth midstroke and beat it a couple of times against the table with his free hand before moving to her side to better reach some more dusty spots, and also offer the cloth to the girl - although not until after he used it to scrub off a dark patch that covered part of her nose and cheek.
"Be putting that over your mouth, Miss, to be keeping out the dust" Scurry suggested humbly as he continued on beating the dust out with gentle taps and strokes of the duster. It took longer than it might have, but that was only to be expected when dust couldn't be fought with a good walloping.
Eventually the job was done as best as he could manage, and Scurry turned his attention to the books. Taking the cloth back without thinking, he wiped the spines of the books, and then pulling the volume she had been reading to where it was easier for him to deal with it he made his way back through the book, all bar erasing the traces of her perusal, except for the occasional smudge that refused to budge.
"If Miss could be being more careful," he said meekly, ducking his head down a little in case she took offence at his words "Master Tarquin is liking his books being clean."\n\n
39Scurryhow on earth did you get into such a state?0Scurry05
After Connor had escaped his common room and its Quidditch-playing doorwardens, he circled the school aimlessly, hoping that he would eventually stumble into the library. The armload of books he was carrying seemed to grow heavier with every flight of stairs he lugged them up. It was only after he passed a portrait of a very rude man in a powdered white wig for the second or third time that he realized he was lost.
"Get out of my corridor, blackguard!" the picture yelled. "You've bothered me thrice this hour, so be gone with you!"
"Gladly," Connor replied, wishing that he could have the live version of the painting behind the band room for fifteen minutes to see if the bewigged dandy would become a little politer after getting his face knocked in. "Just tell me where the library is and I'll do my best never to set foot in your precious corridor again."
That was more to Wig Guy's liking. Although he ended every sentance with an insult, he provided directions. Having got what he wanted, Connor bowed politely to Wig Guy, returned a string of antique insults to match the painting's, and left.
Although Wig Guy didn't seem to like him very much, the directions were accurate. He entered the library and stared around, overawed. How could one room hold so many books? What was the point of them all? Surely not all of those had been read? Connor thought it might easily be possible to fit half his house in here, if not the whole thing!
He was pulled back to reality by the sound of someone coughing and someone else squeaking at the other person. The squeaky one didn't sound quite-right, for some reason. Deciding that following the sounds was as good a way to start looking for Gwen as any, he did exactly that and found her in the middle of a cloud of settling dust, which explained the coughing but not the squeaking. He decided not to mention it.
"Sorry it too me so long," he said, dropping the armload of books. The table looked like part of a garage sale bookstore, it had so many volumes scattered across it. "I was kidnapped by a pair of Quidditch players in the common room, and one of them insisted that I sign up for tryouts. I have no idea what I'm getting myself into, but if it's too bad, then I'll just do really badly at the tryout and get cut." It had worked before, such as that time his mother wanted him to play basketball. Definitely not his game, basketball.
He noticed Scurry for the first time, and the question came out of his mouth before his brain had time to kick in. "What are you?" It looked like something that was a distant cousin to E.T., but Connor seriously doubted that was the case. He realized how he must have sounded. "Er-sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to be rude. I've just never seen anything like you before." He had sticking his foot in his mouth down to an art. Knowing his luck, being rude to a...whatever it was...would be a major breach of wizard protocol. Oh, well.
OOC:No offense, Scurry. Connor's not the sharpest pencil in the box. Probably never will be, that's why he has Gwen. lol. The painting's a one-post thing, sorry about that.\n\n
0Connor PierceShe fell through a wall.68Connor Pierce05
Gwen accepted the cloth gladly. Goodness! She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so embarrassed. The whole staff would be hearing about this, she had no doubt. All the elves and maids, if Sonora had any human hired help. She could just imagine the sort of things they would say about one of the pretty little first year Crotali having a roll in the mud.No help for it, though.
"I'll do my best, Scurry," she said to his plea for her to be a bit neater. "You don't know how sorry I am that I made a mess in the first place." Just then, Connor finally made his appearance, carrying a stack of books to match her own. She leaned down to Scurry confidentially and whispered behind her hand, "That's who I was talking to when I sounded cross earlier. He's late."
She laughed at his explination about being kidnapped by Quidditch players. "Oh, dear," she said. "You're in for it. I've never actually seen a game, but I understand that Quidditch can get rough, especially when the cannon balls-er, Bludgers-come into it." She began trying to sort the mess of books spread over the desk into some kind of order. "I'm kind of in the same position," she said. "My Potions partner from the other day-Jennifer Zucchero, have you met her?-thinks its absolutely criminal that I don't know how to play Quidditch, so she's decided to teach me."
She had just finished putting the books in order when she heard Connor ask someone what they were. Since she had been under the impression that he knew what she was, it had to be Scurry he was talking to. Muggles must not have had elves, either. "A Prairie Elf," she muttered, not wanting to offend the elf. "Sort of a servant." \n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyAlas, he is correct (for once)63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
Cannon balls? That didn't sound promising, somehow...that could have been where the danger incognito-guy had mentioned came in...What had he gotten himself into? Maybe there was a book somewhere in here that could help. Surely in a library this big there had to be one book about what he needed to know.
He decided not to dwell on it. "Well, if the Bludgers or whatever you call them can catch up with me, they're welcome to kill me at their leisure." He realized that would sound extremely strange to someone not used to him and his eccentricies. "That was a joke," he added apologetically. It was habitual to explain when he revealed that he had a sense of humor, at least in front of girls. Only Beverly was exempt from having the apology added.
"This Jennifer can teach you and then you can teach me," he said. "Call it part of the Wizarding World curriculum." Glancing at the books spread everywhere, he tried to make heads or tails of the various titles. The subjects didn't seem to be related very well...he shook his head. Girls were odd. They did things that made no sense. Such as read books on different subjects at the same time. It was none of his business, so he'd leave it alone.
Prairie Elf...it didn't look much like the elves in stories. Not a Tolkien elf or a Santa Claus elf or a Brothers Grimm elf.But Gwen was the one who knew this world, so if she said it was an elf, it was an elf. "Got it," he muttered back. He had no idea how you were supposed to address a servant,given that he'd never met anyone rich enough to have one until he came here. He tried to work it out and hoped Gwen would come to his rescue. \n\n
0Connor PierceSo it's to be another game?68Connor Pierce05
"I do have a sense of humor, you know," Gwen said when Connor started explaining that he was joking. "It's not much of one, but I can tell when someone's being serious and when they're not. I'm not that overbred!" She laughed and pushed the music book aside, taking up another one from the Espionage stack she had made.
She decided to help him out with Scurry, as it looked like he either wasn't used to servants or was still too surprised to say anything. "Thank you, Scurry," she said. "We're all right now. You can go back to your cleaning. I promise I'll be more careful with Mr. Tarquin's books." She turned her attention back to the table. "Elves love work," she whispered. "They're not happy if they're not doing something. At least, I've never met one who wasn't like that. And there's you something else about this world to remember." She gave him the smile her friends at home had dubbed the 'artfully artless innocent look'.
For some strange reason, she found herself wishing she was dressed a little better. Since arriving at Sonora, she had stuck to clothes that made her look somewhat schoolteachery as a way of separating herself from the preps, so it made no sense that she should want to look nice all of a sudden.Besides, if she had been wearing something nice it would have meant ruining something nice. She tried to fiddle with a bracelet that wasn't there before she remembered that she had taken it off. Her second smile was a little strained.
"All this reading isn't really my thing," she said. "I'm normally not very studious." If she didn't shut up, she was going to start babbling, and, perhaps worst of all, she had no idea why.\n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyWell, of course!63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
Let the displays of wicked wit begin, then.
by Connor Pierce
Some people would have been annoyed when Gwen just jumped in and sent the elf on about his business, but Connor wasn't one of them. He was more relieved than anything. He had an odd tendancy to draw a blank when he was expected to say something without the other person actually starting the conversation or when someone asked him a question. It was pathetic.
Which made it so odd that he could talk to Gwen, or at least had been able to so far. She was vivacious and talkative and rich, which all added up to equal she was the very sort of person he should have gone totally silent around. But he kept forgetting.
Something seemed to be bothering her for a minute, then she started talking on a seeming tangent. He wouldn't push it; he of all people knew there were some things people just didn't want to talk about. "Know the feeling," he said. "I do all right in school, but just because Bev would kill me if I didn't. I keep looking over my shoulder when I do homework or something to make sure that she isn't standing there."
He decided to take the books comment as an opening. "What's all this for, anyway?" he said. "Looks like a lot of topics to be reading up on at one time."
\n\n
0Connor PierceLet the displays of wicked wit begin, then.68Connor Pierce05
Gwen looked at all the books a little self-consciously. She had been hoping the variety of topics wouldn't be noticed, but she had learned to expect disappointment when she hoped for anything. "It is," she admitted. "I'm trying to impersonate Anne, you see. It's all part of my strategy to take over the world." She laughed. "Really it's just that there's a bunch of extracurricular stuff I have to cover. I can hardly wait until Christmas-I think I'll just sleep the whole time." Sleeping wasn't something she had been doing a lot since she came to Sonora. She was too afraid that she'd talk in her sleep and say something she shouldn't.
She needed to steer the topic in another direction besides what she was reading about. "What're you planning on doing for Christmas?" she asked curiously. "At home, we all have a certain spot we sit at in the parlor and my aunt passes out presents. Once we do that, we go to Mass in Savannah proper-we live on an island-and come back for a big meal. It's the one day of the year that we forget to be Careys, you might say." She smiled fondly at the memories. Christmastime was the time where her family tried to act at least a little more normal than usual. She couldn't remember a Christmas ever going completely bad.
\n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyI rather think they already have.63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
I rather think you two should shut up.
by Anne Wright
Anne was expecting to have to search the school from top to bottom to find her cousin and then to have to wait until dinner to find her after all the searching when she left her common room. She didn't know why, but whenever Gwenhwyfar was out of eyeshot, Anne imagined that she was holed up in the Crotalus Common Room conspiring in whispers with faceless allies. She knew that it was just her imagination running away with her again, but the knowledge didn't quell all of her suspicions. This business of observing to see if Gwenhwyfar went back to her original preppy ways was turning out to be harder than Anne had thought it would be. It was hard to work out if a person was dissembling or not when she didn't really know anything about her.
She wasn't seeking Gwenhwyfar out to get better acquainted, though. She would show Gwen the letter from Grandmother St. Martin, then she would excuse herself and go right back into her commmons or into the library. She had a feeling that rejection wouldn't be something Gwen was familiar with or good at accepting. It wasn't easy for her, and she could barely stand the people who were rejecting them both.
As she worked her way through the library, using an indirect route to make it a little harder for any observers to work out where the Aladren commons were, she heard people talking from the general direction of the table she referred to as hers. Moving quietly through the shelves, she decided to see who they were and tell them to shut up. It was a library. People were expected to be silent in a library. That was one reason, second only to the books, that she loved them.
She supposed she shouldn't find it surprising that the girl talking about Christmas, of all the silly things, was Gwenhwyfar. It was part of fate and all that-you always find the things you're looking for but don't want to ever reach. Her companion was the Pecari guy-Connor. She was determined to remember his name simply because she had forgotten it once. She decided that Gwen's comments were as good of a place for her to enter as she was going to get.
"Well, you're not doing that for Christmas this year," she said, sitting down in the remaining chair. "I got a letter from Grandmother St.Martin this morning. We have to stay here for Christmas." She refrained from mentioning 'and you're sitting at my table, so beat it'. She was going to try to be nice, after all. She gave Connor a breif nod of recognition as she pulled the letter out of her robe pocket. "Here it is, if you want to read it for yourself. She says something about Uncle Alasdair saying things are very unsettled at home or whatever."
\n\n
16Anne WrightI rather think you two should shut up.59Anne Wright05
You can tell me what to do when you grade my assignments.
by Gwenhwyfar Carey
Gwen thought she might have a heart attack when Anne appeared out of nowhere and sat down. She hadn't heard a thing until Anne was already seated and talking. "What?" she said, her brain refusing to process what Anne had said while she recovered from her surprise. "Never mind," she said almost immediately as she sorted out the confused fragments and figured out what her cousin had said.
She took the letter from Anne and began to read, starting over twice before she took in a word. She didn't know why she had been so startled by Anne's arrival. She forgot to worry about the problem when she finally tuned in enough to read between the lines.
Anne,
It saddens me to say that you and your cousin Gwenhwyfar must remain at Sonora for the Christmas season. Your dear uncle has informed me that this is a very unsettled time for our family, St.Martins and Careys alike, and that it would be better for you girls to remain where you are for the time being. Alasdair sends his fondest regards to both of you, of course, and begs that you understand that he is only looking out for the best interests of his beloved niece and daughter and says that Lorena would second him if she were able.
Furthermore, Anne, I sincerely beleive that your dear mother always intended for you to become a St. Martin- Gwen stopped reading. There were three more pages, but they had nothing to do with her. Just Grandmother Carey-St.Martin babbling to Anne about what she was just so sure Aunt Mary would have wanted and how very upsetting Anne's behaviors would be to Aunt Mary and all the other sugar-coated folderol Eileen's letters were always full of when she disapproved of something. She knew what the 'unsettling time' for the family was. She knew too well. Lorena had pulled one of her stunts-getting drunk and rowdy while there was company, trying to jump out of a window, setting her bed on fire, anything like that-and Alasdair had sent her away again, though to an asylum or a sanatorium Gwen couldn't say. It depended on what the stunt had been and what whim had taken him.
Gwen was intensely self-analytical, but she had never been able to work out why it upset her when something like this happened. It wasn't as if she had any real attatchment to or affection for either one of her parents. Her sole function in her father's life was that of a pawn. Her sole function in her mother's life was that of scapegoat, the one to blame for everything. Her brain told her that, but there was always some part of her that was emotionally invested with her mother and father, something that wanted their approval,and it surfaced during these bad times.
"Oh," she said finally, her powers of speech coming back to her. "Oh. I guess we'll make a merry Christmas of it, then. Good thing we're used to it not snowing." She made herself smile. It felt fake and probably looked like it. If she focused on normality, then she would be back to normal in a minute or two. She hoped someone changed the subject.\n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyYou can tell me what to do when you grade my assignments.63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
Connor was considering how to answer Gwen's question- his family certainly wasn't as proper-sounding as hers, with Christmas morning signaling a free-for-all where they attempted to beat the living daylights out of each other in order to reach the presents first- when Anne the Amazon came strolling up as if she owned the place and told Gwen that they were staying at Sonora for Christmas on orders from either their grandmother or Gwen's father.
Gwen seemed to have trouble figuring out what Anne had said for a minute, and once she took the letter from Anne there was a long moment of silence before she spoke up again, not sounding quite right. Her smile was about as sincere as that of one of those insanely cheerful TV commercial people with their annoying scripted conversations. He also had a feeling that she didn't want to talk about it. Gwen came across to him as the kind who would tell you all about it if she wanted you to know and otherwise wanted you to keep your mouth shut. He decided to go back to the original topic to give her time to collect herself.
"You'll probably have a better time here than I will at home," he said. "It's a war zone at Christmas. Somewhere between Aunt Trisha bawling and Uncle Jim trying to film everything for posterity and Mom burning the cookies and my brother and sisters, it gets pretty wild." He could only imagine what this Christmas would be like, with Kris and Paul not speaking to him and his aunt and uncle thinking his Pierce relatives were paying for him to go to private school while not doing the same for his older siblings. Things might get awkward.
He'd still have Beverly on his side, though, and Uncle Jim would probably want an interview about what private schools were really like, since Connor was the first of his mother's family ever to set foot in one to the best of anyone's knowledge. It might not be that bad. Even if it was, Connor knew perfectly well that no one would let on. They would all smile and act normal, just like they had the Christmases he was seven and eight when everything had been wrong.
\n\n
0Connor PierceDon't give her any ideas...68Connor Pierce05
Anne tried to shrug off the feeling that she wasn't wanted from the minute she took her seat.This was her place and it was them who were somewhere they shouldn't be. The ridiculousness of the thought never occured to her. She stared hard at the carpet, tracing patterns that might or might not have been there, and tried not to let herself flush. Why didn't someone speak up?
Her eyes jerked up when Gwenhwyfar made her falsely cheery comment about snow. "It snows sometimes," she said automatically. "I've seen snow before." She had, though not for long. She had been in Helen, Georgia on a trip to the Cabbage Patch doll place with her parents in December to pick out her annual doll. She thought she might have been about seven and it had snowed. She had never forgotten it or seen snow since.
Connor jumped in and said something about his family's version of Christmas. Anne couldn't help but be interested by Uncle Jim the moviemaker. "My daddy used to do that," she said. "Film holidays and family events and stuff. He was good with cameras." She realized she was speaking of him in past tense, as if he were dead. "He-doesn't do that anymore," she said, as if that explained matters. She didn't feel like going into the whole messy story right now. "I'm an only child, though, so I've never seen a fight to get to the presents." She forced a laugh at her own weak joke and regretted her stubborn refusal to pick up any social skills in her earlier years. \n\n
Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on something else. Pretend you never read Grandmother's letter. You're fine. You're sitting in the library with Anne and Connor having a charming discussion about whatever Muggle-gibberish they're on about at the moment.Nothing is wrong.
Gwen kept repeating the thought over and over until she was...okay again. She had to play a game of sorts, here and now. No time for sentimentalism over a woman who didn't know she was alive. She would be able to forget that her family was different, for a little while. For right now, she could have normal parents, normal siblings, a life. That was the most seductive thing about Sonora, that she could pretend that she was something besides what she was, except around other purebloods who knew a little about the Careys.
She caught just enough of the Christmas conversation between Connor and Anne to know that she had no clue what they were talking about. Filming? Camera? She wanted to ask, but she would rather be stupid that look stupid in front of Anne. She didn't want her cousin to be able to walk away inwardly smirking about how Gwen was so sheltered in her little pureblood world that she couldn't put two and two together.
"You're lucky," she said when Anne mentioned that she was an only child. "I love Morgaine and Edmond, but Morrie's at the stage of life where she hates my guts and Eddie worships me.Every time he does something, he has to come tell me about it." She remembered the only time she had ever met the man who would probably be her husband, Phillipe Robinond. She had been performing her belle routine flawlessly when Edmond ran in, calling her Gwennie and trying to show her an oddly shaped rock he had found. She had completely forgotten about Phillipe and had praised Edmond as the next great arcaeologist or something similar. Both Edmond and Phillipe had been delighted.
The memory made her smile, as memories including Edmond always could. There was no doubt that her little brother was her favorite relative. She knew he would grow up to see her as just another stupid woman to be used as a pawn, but for now she was his goddess and he was her darling and, in a way, always would be. \n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyAnd I just won a Daytime Emmy.63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
Anne's reaction to Gwenhwyfar's comments about her siblings was instinctual and out of her mouth before her brain kicked in. "Morgaine's the one who told me you were a prep who hated my guts." It was true, but she shouldn't have said it. She had learned more about family loyalty than that in her short time in the pureblood world. She was torn between wanting to ask point-blank if Morgaine had a point and apologizing for her big mouth.
She couldn't remember feeling this uncomfortable since her first pureblood party, which had been a world-class disaster. She had let conversations fall into awkward silences, stepped on her dance partner's feet, spilled her punch on the carpets in the reception room, and said the word ain't. There were many things that could be allowed to pass by the South's dense pureblood population, but none of those were on that list. All of them had been horrible breaches of protocol for a Charleston lady. If Anne hadn't been so miserable at that time, she would have found the situation hilarious.
The second impulse won out. Taking care not to look directly at Gwenhwyfar, she forced herself to speak. "Sorry. It's not my place to talk about your sister." She was messing up again. She never should have sat down. She should have just delivered her message and gone back into the closed world of Aladren and her own self. What had she been thinking? Connor was apparently scared of her for whatever reason and Gwenhwyfar was a member of her mother's family, which translated into an enemy. Not people she could discuss very much with.
\n\n
16Anne WrightYou <i>are</i> a drama queen...59Anne Wright05
Gwen shrugged lightly when Anne mentioned that it had in fact been Morgaine who gave her a bad reputation. She had suspected as much; that was just a Morgaine thing to do. Morrie had begun to resent Gwen for her looks and status as the one favored by the Family Council about a year earlier and she would have wanted to try to scare Anne into what Morgaine thought to be her place. It was like Potions: if you add asphodel and wormwood, you get the Draught of Living Death. If you mix envy with haughtiness, you get gossip.
She just wished that Morgaine's story didn't have a basis in fact. She could remember too well how very like the Hens she and Clarissa and Allie and Lila had been before they were split up this year...they had been sisters, but they had also been the terror of the other girls in the family. They had been four arrogant pureblood girls so overconfident in their bond that they had never learned how to stand alone-not really-until they were forced to. It was pathetic, but Gwen knew that when she went home for the summer, it would be just like old times.
"Don't worry about it," she said when Anne apologized after a few seconds of silence. "Morgaine is jealous of me and she didn't like you,I'm guessing. Add in that I was the ringleader of a kind of clique and there's her story. I knew she was the one who put ideas about me in your head in the first place, so you're only telling the truth."
She reached under the table to fiddle with the bracelet she was no longer wearing again. Why had she taken it off? Oh, she didn't want to seem like a Jordanna wannabe. It was a charm bracelet and the other girl had worn one first day. She would have to find it when she got back to her commons. If she was so adamant about not caring what the Preps thought of her, then she was going to have to stop going out of her way to be different.It might not hurt to have them think she was a Jordanna wannabe, either.\n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyLet's not get into stereotypes...63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
Anne frowned when Gwenhwyfar dismissed the fact that one of her sacred-by-blood-and-birth relatives had been slighted. That was not normal Carey-St.Martin behavior, not towards someone like Anne. In spite of her best efforts to find evidence against her cousin's reform, she was still coming up empty-handed. The thought that they might be more alike than she had given credit for occured to her and was pushed aside. She was having one of her lonely days, that was all.
"Right," she said, shrugging. "The truth shall set you free." She decided to change the topic. "So...are either of you going out for Quidditch?" It was only after she said it that she realized she could have just left. She was definitely having one of her lonely days. Still, the damage was done. "I am. I've always loved Quidditch." \n\n
'Awkward' wasn't a feeling Connor had come to associate with Anne Wright in any way, shape, form, or fashion. She was a march-up-in-your-face type of girl, from what he had seen. But she seemed awkward now, as if she really wished she were somewhere else. He knew what that was like, but what he couldn't understand was why she didn't leave. Diplomacy hadn't seemed to be one of her strengths.
"Glad you like it," he said when she mentioned Quidditch. "I was sort of roped into signing up. I think I told them I'd be a Chaser." He pondered the wisdom of asking the question. "That's not the person the Beaters get to beat up, is it?" Maybe that hadn't been his most brilliant question ever, especially not to Anne, but he thought it was a legitimate one. He wanted a little warning if people were going to try to beat him up, after all. \n\n
0Connor Pierce*dies laughing at the other two*68Connor Pierce05
Anne blinked politely when Connor asked her if Chasers were the ones the Beaters got to beat up, wondering if she'd heard correctly. "Uh...that's not what Beaters do," she said. "Beaters try to hit the Bludgers away from their own team towards the other one." She put a real effort into not sounding condescending. It had never occured to her that Connor might be Muggleborn, given that he was Gwen's friend. Another point she would grudgingly give her cousin. "Chasers are the ones who score. That's what I am." She had played all positions, but Chaser was her best one. Her wrists were a little weak for Beating, she was too tall for a really good Seeker, and Keeping involved moving quickly after a period of staying still, which wasn't one of her natural abilities. She followed the law of inertia, if it was a law: once in motion, she stayed in motion, and once still, she stayed still.
"It's pretty easy to learn," she said. "The hardest part is ducking the Bludgers and the other team's players trying to foul you. Once you throw the Quaffle, it's out of your hands and up to the Keeper's reflexes." She bit her tongue to keep from offering to help him out. That would be read as an olive branch, an attempt to establish friendship, maybe even an attempt to set herself up as a rival to Gwenhwyfar. She was a loner and she liked it that way. The last thing she needed was to be the Svengali to some Muggleborn Pecari stupid enough to get mixed up with the House of Carey in any way.
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16Anne WrightNever fear, a Bauer is here!59Anne Wright05
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Genius is doing the same thing over and over again and getting a different result. That had been Bev, back when she started seeing a psychologist while she was sick and talking like she "knew things". By her definition, he fell into the category of 'insane'. He asked dumb questions over and over again and expected people not to use that 'how dumb can you get?' tone. At least Anne put some effort into hiding it.
"I'm Muggleborn," he said shortly, just in case she hadn't worked out that little fact yet. "All I know about this game is that it's dangerous." If Gwen was serious about there being cannon balls flying around, then it might be more dangerous that football. Another Beverly definition of insanity was doing something dangerous just to see if you got hurt. They were both nuts by that definition. He realized that Gwen had gone very quiet over the past few minutes. "You all right, Gwen?" he asked her for the second time that day. \n\n
Leaving Connor and Anne to their Quidditch talk, Gwen found a crumpled-up piece of parchment in the pocket of her robes, the discarded first draft of a letter to her grandmother. The back of it would do for the draft of another letter. She had been thinking of writing Clarissa ever since the first day of school, but all she had ever gotten time to send Rissa or Als or Li were scribbled notes along the lines of 'hi, miss you, bye, Gwen'. Clarissa was probably ready to scream or cry, depending on whether she was thinking of ditching Gwen for people at her own school or if she thought Gwen was ditching her. Finding a quill in the other pocket, she began to write.
Rissa,
You have no idea how much I've missed you. It's crazy here. I'm in Crotalus, Noble House of Snakes and Snobs, and we're having a sort of war- She was pulled out of her letter-writing by Connor's question.
"I'm fine," she said automatically. She shook her head a little to clear it. "I was just scribbling something down." She recrumpled the parchment and stuffed it out of sight. "Sorry. It's an old habit. Poetry is my secret vice." She laughed a little ruefully at her own weakness. She'd write Clarissa later, and Allie and Lila. Just because she was trying to start over here didn't mean she could toss who she had been out the window.\n\n
0Gwenhwyfar CareyIt's a Guiding Light thing.63Gwenhwyfar Carey05
Connor didn't miss how quickly Gwen hid whatever she had been writing. He didn't quite buy her explination, either. She had seemed a little off to him ever since Anne showed her that letter. She had been, without exception since he had met her, dazzling and witty and a brilliant conversationalist at all times, but now that wasn't really there. He didn't know how to ask what was really up, though, so he knew he was going to let it slide. For everyone's sake, he would let it slide. For now.
"Poetry, huh?" he said. "Our vices are kindred spirits. Mine's thinking too much, according to my older brother. Paul ain't too big on thinking." Understatement. Paul Pierce was handsome enough to make his brother sick, star of the Varsity football team, and never without a girlfriend, but he had never bothered with any problem more serious than 'how do I keep Mom and Coach Hopper from finding out how many math tests I failed this month?' Important things, such as their father's death, Beverly's leukemia, and Connor's powers, were handed over to Khrissy, who always provided the same answer: pretend they don't exist.
"What about you?" he asked Anne, surprised to realize that he was the one keeping the conversation going. That wasn't a role he was used to, but he seemed to be doing pretty well. "Common vice?"\n\n
0Connor PierceSave me from soap opera lovers...68Connor Pierce05
Anne laughed when she was asked if her secret vice was similar to poetry or thinking too much. "You might say so," she said. "I'm a bad songwriter. Other than that, I like pounding out the loudest Russian Orthodox music I can find on a badly tuned piano to annoy my, er, relatives. I'm Music Geek Extraordinare." It sounded like she was babbling. Time to make her great escape.
"That said, Music Geek Extraordinare has to hit the road," she said, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder. It was much lighter than usual, since she had dumped all her books into a pile on her bed and only put her music things back in. About seventy-five percent of her brain wanted her to stay and chat, but the other twenty-five percent that controlled her motor skills was insisting that she get going while she had a chance. "I have to find some secret corner of the school where I can hide out and work with my Solfege. Later." She forced herself to give them a friendly smile-well, at least a non-hostile one-and then made a beeline for the doors.
That had been weird. After she had been incredibly rude to both of them before, they had both been, for lack of a better word, nice. And she had been nice, too. Gwenhwyfar hadn't been snobby. Connor had acted as the facilitator, the first time she had ever heard him say something without mumbling. And she hadn't been a jerk. All of that put together was beyond weird.
Weird or not, it put her in a good mood. She was almost as proud of herself as she had been when she Flipendoed her dummy in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She kept careful track of how many civil conversations she managed to have, because to her, each one was a victory of sorts in her war with herself. Smiling almost confidently, Anne walked out of the library and into the school.
OOC:I know that the library is part of the school and Anne knows it's not her domain but the librarian's and that other students can come in whenever they want to. She just likes to imagine that it's hers. She's weird like that.\n\n
16Anne WrightBut I like having a hostage!59Anne Wright05
OOC: We're trying to finish this up in a less space-consuming manner than our last thread, so that's the reason this one is written like it is. It's mostly Connor's POV, but rest assured, Gwen's author is responsible for the things she does and says.
BIC: There were a lot of similarites between Gwen and Anne that Connor had noticed, though he wasn't quite stupid enough to tell either one of them about it. One of them was their shared habit of saying something and then saying something else before the first thing had time to process, then doing something before any of it made sense. Once he was sure Anne was out of earshot, Connor looked at Gwen and ventured a question. "What's Solfege?" he asked. She shrugged.
"No idea. Probably something musical, given that she calls herself Music Geek Extraordinare." Stating the obvious was more Gwen's thing than Anne's. "As long as it means she's not spying on me for five minutes, I think it's wonderful." Connor shook his head. He could understand spying on siblings or cousins, but not the intensity that Anne and Gwen seemed to bring to their conflict. Not to mention the fact that Anne's telling Gwen she was spying on her seemed to defeat the purpose.
"Must get old, having a shadow," he commented.
"The end result is worth the annoyance," she said, shrugging. "No pain, no gain." She looked at the book that was still open in front of her and frowned. "What the..." Connor got the feeling she wasn't talking to him, so he didn't ask. "Interesting," she said, still sounding vague. After a moment, she looked up.
"Sorry. It's my inner Aladren trying to surface. I have scholarly turns, believe it or not, and I just found something interesting about-something." She hesitated. "Hold on to this for a second." Pushing the book at him, she ran over to a shelf, pulled down a huge book bound in black leather, and began rifling through the pages frantically, muttering to herself. Connor looked at the book she had given him, but a quick scan didn't show him what it was that Gwen found so 'interesting'. It was just two pages of tiny, close set black type that would give anyone a headache.
From somewhere to his right, Connor heard what sounded like someone stumbling and falling into a bookshelf. "What was that?" he asked aloud, not really expecting an answer. Gwen looked up from her book.
"Probably someone looking for someone else or for a book," she said. "Only other reason I can see someone being in the library is if they live here." Had it been anyone else, Connor was fairly sure he would have been offended. Why he wasn't was another one of those abstract questions he wasn't going to worry about at the moment. Besides, she was probably right.
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0Connor and GwenYou would, Nan...63Connor and Gwen05
Why do you give everyone except each other bad nicknames?!
by Catherine
The library was not a place where one would normally look to find Catherine Raines. Although she wasn't actually stupid, she went to great pains to make it seem that she didn't have a brain cell in her head not devoted to things such as clothes, makeup, boys, money, and blood status. Unless she was willing to say that she had ended up in the library on accident because she thought it was the dining hall, she had very little excuse for being on the traditional turf of smart people. She didn't want to look that dumb, so, as a rule, she avoided books like they carried the plauge.
She had been coming back from the Owlery, a room in serious need of both cleaning and redecorating, when she noticed something that made her think the risks of showing her face in a library might be worth the rewards: a disheveled and dusty Gwenhwyfar Carey slipping inside looking like she was trying not to be noticed.Remembering the message in the common room, Catherine had followed her, observed the sections she stopped in-especially the one about the blood conflict-and saw the whole episode with the Prairie Elf. It had taken an immense effort to keep from laughing at that, but she had done it and was glad she had when it meant she wasn't discovered and she got to hear the whole conversation between Gwenhwyfar, the Aladren, and the Pecari.
She didn't know who the Pecari was, which meant he couldn't be anyone worth mentioning. The theory was proven when he disclosed to the Aladren that he was Muggleborn. The Aladren was another matter. There had been rumors floating around in the first week about how an Aladren girl named Anne had either bitten Gwenhwyfar Carey's head off or actually beaten her up during the flying lesson. Catherine had been there, so she knew that it wasn't the second alternative, but she had listened around until she learned the facts. She didn't have a last name, but she was sure that this girl and Anne were one and the same.
Maybe Anne could be useful. She seemed to share relatives in common with Gwenhwyfar and they didn't seem to get along. Use her for whatever little she was worth, then ditch her. Simple, clean, and profitable, especially if Catherine wangled it so someone else took the fall for ditching her. Maybe Skyla, if she could be trusted not to get resentful at always being the Trojan Horse. Anne left and Gwenhwyfar went back to the section on blood, picking up a book and going through it while mumbling something. If she could get a few inches closer, maybe she could hear-
The heel of her shoe caught on the bottom corner of the shelf, pitching her forward into the bookcase. She bit back a curse as her knee collided with the sharp corner of another shelf and her right hand, flung out to keep herself from falling, knocked a few volumes forward with a faint scraping of bookends. Catherine froze, not daring to move or even breathe. She heard the mudblood Pecari ask what had made the noise and Gwenhwyfar reply. Catherine couldn't repress a smile at the irony of it. Her archenemy had just saved her from being caught eavesdropping, when the best thing that could have happened for Gwenhwyfar was to catch Catherine.
There was no doubt that this was the best gossip material Catherine had gotten her hands on all year. Gwen Carey, the little southern princess, daughter of one of the most notorious men in the country, and some mudblood from the House of Nobodies. Catherine couldn't gauge exactly what the relationship was, but it clearly wasn't hostile. It would be the work of ten minutes to have it all over the school that they were an item.
But she owed Gwenhwyfar one for not investigating the noise like a good Crotalus, so she wouldn't do it yet. She would wait a little while, and if she just couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer at the same time that Gwenhwyfar had some kind of major victory, why, what a coincidence! Catherine loved the way her mind worked sometimes. The longer she waited, the more likely the story would become. Now if they would just leave so she could move without being caught. \n\n
0CatherineWhy do you give everyone except each other bad nicknames?!0Catherine05
Not everyone...but those we do, because we can.
by Gwen and Connor
OOC: Same as last time, only this time it's mostly Gwen's POV. Assume Connor left while Gwen was doing all that in the last paragraph.
BIC: Gwen wouldn't admit it, but that noise put her on edge. This was a public place, after all. Anyone could come and catch her going through the genealogies or pass by and hear something they shouldn't. She tried to ignore it, but it was like someone was holding a knife between her shoulderblades. After a few minutes, she gave up, reshelved the book, and went back to the table.
"I'm not sure if whoever it was is gone yet," she said in a low voice, "so I'm out of here. My...situation with other purebloods at the moment doesn't make it a very good idea for me to stay where it's easy to be eavesdropped on. I know I sound paranoid, but trust me, I have good reason."
Connor looked up from his study of one of the books from the Sonora pile. "Know what you mean," he said. "I don't know too much about the whole blood thing, but I don't like the idea of being eavesdropped on, either."
Gwen was glad he agreed. She wouldn't have been put off anyway, but it was always easier when the people you had to work with agreed with you. She could still feel that knife between her shoulders. "Good. I'll straighten out all of this-" she gestured to the books- "and catch up with you later."
"Good deal," he said, looking around as if he, too, felt that there might be an assassin in the shadows. "Dinner or something."
"Yeah. See you." She didn't waste any time. It was stupid to think that there really was someone there, but she couldn't help it. All she could really focus on was to get out of here now. It was as if a sudden shadow of paranoia had fallen over the sunny Saturday afternoon. She signed out two of the books, put the rest in the Return slot, gathered up her things, and headed for her commons as fast as her feet could take her.\n\n
0Gwen and ConnorNot everyone...but those we do, because we can.63Gwen and Connor05
Catherine couldn't hear the ending of Gwenhwyfar and her Pecari friend's conversation from her position, just a jumble of lowered voices and footsteps. The library door opened once, then closed. More footsteps, then the door opened and closed again. She could come out now. Easing herself back away from the bookshelf and wincing as she tried to shrug out the kinks in her shoulders, Catherine didn't think she had ever been so glad to hear a door close. She wasn't used to doing anything uncomfortable.
It had been worth it, though. She had finally uncovered something she could use. She wasn't stupid enough to ever feel totally secure, but she felt more in control than she had since she came to Sonora and found that there were people who didn't bow down to her and whatever clique she was part of. That had been the scariest thing about leaving home...not a new place, not being under someone else's dominion when she had always been allowed her own way, but finding out that wealth and beauty didn't necessarily mean a total lack of opposition.
She shook her head, clearing thoughts she didn't want to have. That was stupidity talking, that was Nick and Samantha and her mother talking. She wasn't like them. She was a Raines. It was against the natural order of things for those who were either born below her like the Pecari or put themselves below her like Gwenhwyfar to challenge her. She was a Raines. She bit her lip as if she were actually in pain. She was a Raines, she was a Raines. She wouldn't be anything else. It didn't matter what Nick and Samantha said, she was a Raines and they were stupid mudbloods.
She forced herself back under control. Of course she was a Raines. Everyone knew that mudbloods were horrible liars, so why was she so worried about what a mudblood gardener and his brat said? Of course they were lying. Her father would never have allowed her to have the name Raines if there was even a chance they weren't lying. There was no need to worry, none at all. She smiled experimentally and was pleased to find that it stayed put. She wouldn't go back to the common room just yet, though, just in case her face wasn't quite under control. She'd go for a walk in the Gardens, that was what she'd do. There was no need to worry about it.\n\n
0CatherineTwo Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest...0Catherine05