Christmas Day Diversions on Cascade Hall

Anne Wright

November 20, 2005 9:49 PM

Christmas Day Diversions by Anne Wright

It was nine thirty-seven in the morning when Anne walked into the Cascade Hall, and she had been awake all nine of the hours that lead up to it. She had woken up from the old nightmare about mirrors at twelve-thirty in the morning, and had immediately wished that she had stayed in the nightmare when she realized what day it was: December twenty-fifth, a date she had been trying in vain to avoid for weeks. The first Christmas without her mother.

She hoped her appearance would be enough to discourage the few other students who had remained at Sonora leave her alone, but she wasn't counting on it. Most of them would be as bored as she had been since the mud storm, and company was company even if it did look like death warmed over. There were dark circles rimming her eyes from the lost hours of sleep, seemingly emphasized by the uniform dark grey of her distinctly unChristmassy ensemble. She had chosen the bleakest outfit Aunt Sarah and Grandmother St.Martin had sent her on purpose, meant for the one-year anniversary of Mary Elizabeth St.Martin Wright's death. At the time, she had actually derived some amusement from their anxiety that she should go into mourning but at the same time should not go into it for fear of someone making the connection between her and them. Now, she just wanted to rearrange the bone structures of that pair of idiots for their disrespect. They weren't what she was really angry at, but they would do as well as the next scapegoat for a focus.

Sitting down at one of the tables, she pressed her hands against her head, eyes smarting with tiredness and the faint beginnings of a headache threatening her temples. She couldn't go around like this. If she didn't fight it off somehow, she'd start crying, and that was anethema to her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried; it was a weakness, and she didn't like feeling or having others see her as weak. She had tried funneling the feeling she refused to name that sprung from her mother's absence into anger toward her father for his, but it didn't work. There was a part of her that wanted to miss him, too, and the rest of her wanted to be angrier for it. She felt as if she had been hollowed out, somehow, and all the removed matter had been packed into an aching knot centered in her throat. The emotions all felt too mental, too technical. She would have welcomed anything the weather threw at the school just then for no other reason than that the tumult of these powerful, unnatural storms closed the door to other emotions.

No storm arrived to distract her, but something else did. A hoot sounded near her ear, and she turned her head to stare blankly at Grandmother St.Martin's owl. There were times when the bird seemed more dignified than its mistress, and today seemed to be one of them. The creature was carrying what looked like a small bundle of some kind. A letter was attached to it, her name scrawled in Grandmother's handwriting across the front. She took the bundle with a jerk of her head for the owl and tore open the letter. There was no introduction, most likely because the old woman couldn't decide what to call her. The whole family seemed to have een perpetually torn between 'Anne' and 'Miss Wright' since she was dumped on them.

Mail has been piling up at your parents' house since they left. Since all attempts to contact your father or some member of his family have failed, I've sent them to you.

Eileen Robinond Carey-St.Martin

"You always know how to hit the right note, Grandma," Anne muttered sarcastically, proceeding to the package. Flipping through the envelopes, nothing out of the usual hit her at first. 'You-Are-A-Winner' gimmicks, bills from the power and water companies, condolence cards that made the corners of her eyes sting threateningly. Everyone had liked her mama. She didn't let herself read many of them for fear of embarrasing herself, and so soon came to a postcard that seemed to have been sent without postage or mailing addresses from, of all places, Bermuda. It was to her father from a woman named Tabitha Lareno. There were two letters, both without postage or mailing address, that were written entirely in what Anne was able to recognize as Sicilian. Her knowledge of the language was largely limited to expletives her father had been known to use, but she was able to translate enough to tell that they were to her father from his mother - her grandmother. There were at least three or four short letters that appeared to have been written in a hurry by someone who signed herself only as Alicia. A thick stack of owl-mail letters were from a man who signed himself in the earlier letters as Gray and in the later ones as Grayson Wright VIII.

She sat back, frowning at the letters. She had wanted a distraction, and had gotten a puzzle. She knew her father had relations, but she knew virtually nothing about them. Having a 'the Eighth' following his name made it seem that Grayson Wright was a person of some importance in the family. They were purebloods, after all, and she had yet to hear of a pureblood family without some kind of internal heirachy of its own. That wasn't the puzzle. Who was he, and who were Tabitha Lareno and Alicia? Why had they all suddenly decided in the past several months to take up writing to John Wright? \n\n

16 Anne Wright Christmas Day Diversions 59 Anne Wright 1 5

Gwenhwyfar Carey

November 21, 2005 8:31 PM

Christmas Day Curiosity by Gwenhwyfar Carey

Anne had woken from one kind of nightmare to another, and her cousin had very nearly done the same. The waking nightmare was different on account of circumstance, but Gwen's dreams had actually been pleasant enough to make reality seem that much harsher. She had forgotten the dream by the time she headed to the Cascade Hall for breakfast, but it had been a good one. It had even been about Christmas, though that had been the last thing on her mind lately.

She saw Anne when she entered the Hall, but didn't approach the other girl. Nothing about Anne's stance or dress, both more suited to a wake than a holiday of celebration, invited contact. It took her a moment to remember that this was the first major holiday since Aunt Mary had died. No, Anne wouldn't want to be bothered any more than Gwen herself wanted to be.

She wasn't angry about what had happened. Now that the first shock of having everything blow up in her face and of her incorrect attempt to turn things around had worn off, she had accepted it. There was nothing she could do to change it, and nothing else correct for her to do, either. Anything the family did to her was no more than she deserved for shaming the Careys. Now the trick was to hold to that resolution past the first glimmer of a chance to regain some ground on either front.

As she began eating her breakfast by route at the otherwise abandoned Crotalus table, Gwen noticed the entrance of an owl carrying a small package attached to its feet. She didn't expect it to acknowledge her presence, as there were a few other people remaining for one reason or another this year and there wasn't really anyone who could or would write her at the moment. She didn't blame them for it. If it had been, say, Lila who fell out of the family's good graces, she would have done the exact same thing. She had gotten a letter from Clarissa the day before, a letter that's contents meant that Rissa either didn't know about It or, less likely, that she didn't care, and nothing else.

The owl's apparent destination seemed to be, of all people, Anne. Gwen felt a faint stirring of interest. There weren't a terribly great number of people jumping to send Anne Christmas presents, either. It was as it flew back toward its original point of entrance that she recognized the owl as belonging to her Grandmother Carey-St.Martin. There was no mistaking it, not when the recipient of its parcel was Eileen's other granddaughter. Anne paused for a moment to read the letter attached to the bundle, and then went for the package itself.

Gwen found herself dithering over what to do. She couldn't help wanting to know what Grandmother had sent, but mixed in with the curiosity was apprehension directed both at the contents of the package and at Anne's reaction to being interrupted. Morgaine had said that the other girl had earned herself something of a reputation for unpredictability, and part of Gwen's acceptance of her altered circumstances was accepting that she now had to walk carefully around people who she could once have humored or snubbed at her leisure. She wasn't sure if Anne fit into that category, but she could. Caution against a slim chance could be the wiser course.

In the end, curiosity won out. Leaving her breakfast only half-eaten, she made her way over to where the Aladren was sitting, frowning at what appeared to be letters of some kind. She didn't seem to notice that she had company. Gwen opened her mouth and stopped, not sure what she should say or whether she should sit. It might be taken for disrespect, if Anne's position had somehow ended up above hers in the family and Grandmother's letter had been about that, but not doing so was as good as putting Anne above her. Once you bent your neck for someone once, the next time became easier, and even easier the next and the next and so forth. Finally, she settled between the two extremes. She would speak without an invitation, but she wouldn't sit without one. Anne probably didn't yet know enough about pureblood ways to comprehend the meaning, anyway.

That compromise still didn't settle the question of what to say, and the result was that the first thing to pop into her head came out of her mouth. "Merry Christmas?" It even sounded lame to her. \n\n

0 Gwenhwyfar Carey Christmas Day Curiosity 63 Gwenhwyfar Carey 0 5

Anne

November 22, 2005 7:44 PM

Curiosity is not a sin, but we should temper it with caution by Anne

Startled out of her thoughts by the attempt at season's greetings, Anne didn't bother to hide her annoyance. Even she knew that it wasn't generally considered polite to come sticking your nose in when someone was reading her mail, unless it had something to do with you and maybe not then. "Don't see what's so merry about it," she snapped, looking up to identify the intruder. "Oh, it's you." Her scowl didn't fade when she registered Gwenhwyfar's face, but it did grow a little lighter.

Noticing that the other girl was still standing, she jerked her head at a chair. "Sit down, if you're going to." Purebloods. They'd try to mind their over-bred upper-class manners if the sky was falling down around them. One just did not sit down in a given location without the permission of those already there. It would be simply unthinkable, la di da and so forth.

She thought she knew why Gwen was here, and decided to address the issue directly. If she was going to stand as a critic of pureblood ways, it would be illogical for her to follow them herself, and trying to be delicate was all too often a trait of blueblood purebloods. Besides, she just wasn't good at it and saw no reason, logical or otherwise, why she should waste her time playing a game she stood no chance of winning. "Listen," she said, "I haven't been keeping up with stuff much lately, but I've heard the rumors about you and Uncle Al causing some kind of scene that day the adults showed up. I didn't see anything myself, but you haven't done anything to me so far." She stuck out her hand, barely missing the gravy with her elbow. "Shall the bugles sing truce?" There. Her good deed for the Christmas season. Now she could play Ebenezer Scrooge and Nancy Drew alike with a clear conscience. \n\n

16 Anne Curiosity is not a sin, but we should temper it with caution 59 Anne 0 5

Gwen

November 23, 2005 12:15 AM

I'm a situation-dependant Crotalus by Gwen

Gwen bit her tongue hard after Anne's intital reply, partly out of surprise and partly to keep herself from making a retort. That was how she had gotten herself into so many stupid messes this year. There was nothing particularly friendly about the other girl even after she looked up, but she didn't seem quite as angry. A good sign, maybe. If Anne was less angry now that she had been before, chances were that Gwen wasn't what she was mad at. Of course, chances had been that her father was never going to turn up at Sonora, too.

She sat in the seat indicated, almost wanting to snatch the stupid papers out of Anne's hands. She thought for a moment that her cousin was going straight to what she wanted to know in spite of the indelicacy of doing so, and was momentarily confused when Anne went off in another direction entirely. She had almost forgotten about their deal from the beginning of the year in everything that had happened since.

The expression Anne used was foreign, but its meaning was made clear enough by the use of the word 'truce'. That meant the same thing on both sides of the magical divide: They might not be best friends, but they weren't enemies at war, either. She shook hands, still awkwardly even after all this time, and decided to be as blunt as Anne had been.

"Um, thanks, but that's not what I - I mean, I was wondering - " Well, she had meant to be blunt about it, but some things were bone deep. She didn't want to think about how many rules and subrules what she was about to ask could possibly break. "I recognized Grandmother's owl - " Another break before she could force the words out. "If you can - tell me without getting in trouble with the family, er, whatdidGrandmothersay?" The last part came out almost as one long, garbled-sounding word. She managed to recover in time to add, "I hope I'm not being presumptive." Yes, caution was the wiser road until she was more sure of where she stood, no matter how painful adhering to it might be. \n\n

0 Gwen I'm a situation-dependant Crotalus 63 Gwen 0 5

Anne

November 24, 2005 9:05 AM

And I'm a logic-challenged paraphrasing Aladren by Anne

Anne stared at Gwenhwyfar for a moment, more because she was having trouble figuring out what the other girl had said than because of what she wanted to know. She thought her eyebrows were going to vanish into her hair when Gwen tacked on the bit about not being presumptuos. Either she was still asleep or something very strange was going on. None of her relatives had ever said anything along those lines to her. This was, by her reckoning, about the equivalent of Aunt Sarah smiling. It didn't happen. Gwen must have really wanted to know what was in that letter...

The anxiety didn't seem feigned, though. Concern for the family? Based on what little she knew of how matters stood, Anne didn't think so, somehow. She decided she didn't really want to know. "Don't worry about it. Grandmother St.Martin just decided to send me the mail that's been piling up at my parent's place since - well, you know." She snatched her hand down before it could become enmeshed in her hair. She was going to break that habit if it was the last thing she did.

An idea came to her. Gwen was a real pureblood. The general impression Grandmother St.Martin and Aunt Sarah had given to Anne was that the sort of endlessly dull lectures on different pureblood families she had been given were the norm for "normal" pureblooded children from the cradle. There wasn't anyone else Anne could really ask, and it would keep the other girl from starting to talk about the family or something equally upsetting. "Hey," she said, "Does the name Grayson Wright the Eighth mean anything to you?" \n\n

16 Anne And I'm a logic-challenged paraphrasing Aladren 59 Anne 0 5

Gwen

November 24, 2005 2:43 PM

Guess we're square, then. by Gwen

Idiot, idiot, idiot, Gwen thought furiously when Anne revealed the nature of the letter. What had been the chances that the family would trust Anne, a critic of pureblood ways by her own admission, with the information that she wasn't the only weak link in the chain? From what Morgaine had told her, this long-lost cousin of theirs had made plenty of enemies and no friends at all among the St.Martins. They wouldn't tell her that the sky was blue if it could be in any way avoided.

There was a moment of awkward silence after Anne stopped talking. Gwen, for her part, had never known that her Aunt Mary existed until after the woman was dead, and only then beause she had pried it out of one of the servants while her father was at the funeral. None of her St.Martin cousins had, either. She was one of the family secrets kept even from other members of the family, and perhaps one of the best-kept among those. The youngest generation usually had some idea of those secrets through rumors and gossip, but none of them had ever suspected there was such a person as Anne's mother.

It was Anne who broke the silence with a question seemingly pulled out of thin air. Gwen frowned, her eyes slightly out of focus as she scanned her memory. Grayson Wright...that didn't make sense at all... "Grayson's a family name," she said after a moment. "They're purebloods, but very poor. My Vaughn grandmother is one of the last ones left. I think one of the Virginia Careys married one not too long before I was born. The family has all but died out in the past few decades, I think."

She gazed absent-mindedly around the Hall, passing over the frozen waterfalls without really seeing them as she tried to rummage up something about the Wrights. "I don't know very much about your family," she said. "The Wrights aren't society types, from what I understand. A western family, now, but they used to be southern. I think there was a feud between some Careys and some Wrights, once, but I don't recall what it was about." She shrugged, having reached the end of her information. "That's all I know. I'm sorry." She wanted to ask what had made Anne ask that, but bit her tongue. It probably had something to do with the letters, and those were certainly none of her business. \n\n

0 Gwen Guess we're square, then. 63 Gwen 0 5

Anne

November 24, 2005 3:56 PM

Guess so. by Anne

Anne was slightly disappointed by Gwen's lack of useful information, but not very surprised by it. She had always known that her father's family was among the lower-ranking purebloods, not the sort of people Gwen would know well. Besides, she and Lady Luck were old enemies already. It would have been too much to ask that she manage to get the information she needed so easily.

That one of her relatives apparently had Gwen's grandmother's maiden name for a given name did cause a flicker of interest. The way the letters had been signed made her sure it was being used as a given name instead of as a product of intermarriage, like Eileen still signing herself Carey thirty years after her first husband's death. It was another layer to pick her way through. Anne had never liked mysteries. In real life, they were never solved, and the majority of the ones in books or on television were painfully drawn-out and hopelessly stupid. She wished that had occurred to her before she started wanting to know who these people were.

"Thanks," she said aloud. "It's not really important. He's the guy who wrote a bunch of these letters to my father, and I thought you might know, since you're a normal pureblood and all." On reflection, that might not have been the best word choice in the world, but it didn't matter. She had already said it. "Looks like I'm about to be on a wild goose chase, then," she added semi-irrelevantly, cursing her own awkwardness at conversation. Her life would be so much easier if people miraculously vanished as soon as she had gotten what she wanted or needed from them. \n\n

16 Anne Guess so. 59 Anne 0 5

Gwen

November 24, 2005 9:43 PM

So...what now? by Gwen

A normal pureblood. Gwen wondered for a moment if that was supposed to be some kind of joke before remembering that Anne didn't know. All she knew was that her cousin and her uncle had caused a scene during a school event. She might not have even known that it was the kind of scene that would lower them and all the Savannah Careys in society's eyes for some time, but Gwen was wary of underestimating the other girl's intelligence. Anne might or might not have been a lot of things, but she had never shown signs of being stupid. She might have picked up on more than the family gave her credit for.

She decided it wouldn't be out of order to offer a bit of advice. After all, Anne had been the one who approached her for information. There were rules to such things even on the lowest levels, and Gwen was reasonably sure that she wasn't breaking any of them, or at least none of the major ones. "You might want to try the library, if it's functioning again," she suggested. "I've found some interesting things there before." She reserved the right to hold back some information. It was all part of the system. As long as she had one relative -

Stop it while you're not behind, she chastised herself. Keep your head down and your mouth shut, Gwenhwyfar Elaine. Never play a game you know you can't win. This one's lost already.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," she said suddenly. "Whatever it is." Much to her own surprise, she meant it. \n\n

0 Gwen So...what now? 63 Gwen 0 5

Anne

November 24, 2005 10:37 PM

Onward to the next chapter, of course. by Anne

It was Anne's turn to wonder if someone was trying to pull a joke. How the heck was the library supposed to help her figure out who some random relative she could only assume was male and of some importance was? She could just see one of the more major families having a book written about them, but her father's family was anything but major, as frequently pointed out by the St.Martins. A memory, half-buried in some corner of her mind, surfaced. The details and circumstances evaded her, but she could remember what she had been told. There were three versions of wizarding history. First was the Muggleborn version, aimed at promoting the idea that the wizarding world was all equal-opportunity these days. Second was the pureblood version, glorifying the old monied blood, occasionally touching on the new, and all but omitting everyone else. Third and rarest was the unexpurgated version, the most accurate of the lot. There was no reason why -

She was jerked out of her thoughts by Gwen's interjection. There was something...off...about it, but she let it pass. "Thanks," she said, inclining her head a very little bit in acknowledgement. For some reason, she felt obliged to keep the other girl entertained. "Want some oatmeal?" she said, indicating a large container not far from the gravy boat she had nearly lodged her elbow in.

She decided to test her luck one more time. Gwen seemed to be in a cooperative mood today, but if anyone could tell how long it would last, it wasn't Anne Wright. "D'you think any of your pals might know anything about this junk?" she said, gesturing towards the letters, now untidily stacked to the left of her still-empty plate. She might have distracted herself from what she had been thinking about before, but she still didn't have much of an appetite. "I've noticed that none of them are much of society types, either." \n\n

16 Anne Onward to the next chapter, of course. 59 Anne 0 5

Gwen

November 25, 2005 10:10 PM

Marvelous things, chapters. by Gwen

Gwen forced a polite smile at the offer of oatmeal. "No, thank you." Feeling that an explination was needed, she added, "I already ate." Well, she had eaten a little. Besides, she had never liked oatmeal. Grits were better, when she could get them. Grandma Vaughn always ensured that was on the breakfast menu during the few visits she was allowed. For a moment, she could actually see the kitchen at Pine Hill, and Rosemary muttering the list of things she had to do before night. Despite the comparative smallness of the house, the absence of her siblings, and the complete lack of servants of any kind, it was the most homelike place Gwen had ever been.

The smile vanished at the mention of her "pals". Anne really had dropped her spy mission since the Alumni Banquet, then. Ask for a miracle and get it, she thought dryly. "No idea," she said shortly. "What families they may or may not be associated with is and will likely remain a mystery to me." Her voice sounded cold even to her own ears. The old Gwenhwyfar asserting herself in the only way she still could.

She didn't like to admit, even to herself, that her current circumstances in her House hurt, to one degree or another. Not as badly as being thrown out of her family would have, but she couldn't convince herself that she liked being the loner. She had, however, been able to convince herself that she was above letting the actual rejection hurt her after the second or third day. She was still a Carey. Their approval or disapproval couldn't take that from her, and that was all she really needed. As long as she had that, there was still a chance of straightening things out after she paid for embarrasing the family she represented. \n\n

0 Gwen Marvelous things, chapters. 63 Gwen 0 5

Anne

November 26, 2005 12:06 AM

Even if they are a bit difficult to determine, here. by Anne

Anne's hand had worked its way back into her hair without her really noticing it, twirling the thick strands around her fingers idly instead of anxiously. Her grip tightened with surprise at the ice in Gwen's voice when she denied knowing if her friends would be helpful in figuring out who these letter-writers were, causing her to pull hard on the loops. Her eyes widened at the shock of pain from her scalp, no doubt making it look as if the shock was a mental or emotional one resulting from the words or the tone.

"Y'all have a falling out or something?" she blurted, then reconsidered it. "No, I don't want to know. Call me an idiot, but I don't want to end up regretting owning you." She wanted to accompany the words with a grin to show that she wasn't being completely serious, but the day still felt too solemn for that. She hadn't forgotten, not by a long shot.

"Guess I'm solo on this one," she said. "I could try my fellow Aladrens out for size, but I don't know most of them from jack and I don't know much about the ones I've met. We just read or talk about what we're reading, for the most part." An over-simplified view of Aladren House, perhaps, but sufficient for breakfast conversation. Her eyebrows drew together in thought for a moment. No, not a simplification - an idealization. That was how she would like it to be: always quiet, always studious, the complete absence of feeling other than the desire for more knowledge. She wanted calm. Wanting wasn't getting, though.

Anne fought the desire to just put her head down on her hands right there at the table. She wanted calm, but she got restless when things were calm. She wanted to know what these letters meant, but she didn't want to deal with all the possible ramifications of knowing. It was a mess, one big chaotic mess of who-only-knew-what. She was going to find out who these kinfolks of hers were, though. That was something to hang on to, at least.\n\n

16 Anne Even if they are a bit difficult to determine, here. 59 Anne 0 5

Gwen

December 03, 2005 6:57 PM

True...but I think we can safely say we're on a new one. by Gwen

Gwen felt her face harden when Anne asked if she and her friends had fallen out over something. If anything, the reconsideration of the question made the faint anger brought up by the subject increase. The comment about not wanting to regret owning her touched a nerve. She couldn't tell if the other girl was being serious or not.

Since Anne had known that something happened and Gwen had reacted the way she had, there was no point in continuing to leave the other girl in the dark. Maybe if Anne thought she was being straight with her, she wouldn't turn on her too violently when things came to a head. They would, eventually. It was inevitable. The family could not allow itself to be shamed, and she had to pay for shaming the family if she was ever to stand a chance of getting back on her social feet. This could be a first penance as well as an attempt at establishing trust.

"There's no reason you shouldn't know what happened," she said, almost shortly. "Father was at the Alumni Banquet. He caused trouble, the way he always does. Asher Tallow and I fell out of company because of my reaction to Father. I believe the assumption was that I had been initiated into the fellowship of Cate Raines and her cronies, and I think you're the only person who's speaking to me at the moment." She tried for a wry smile, but it ended up a grimace. "That's all there was to it. A misunderstanding blown out of proportion." She intentionally left out what happened after the misunderstanding. There was no reason why Anne should know every detail, either.

She was glad when Anne reverted back to the mystery people of Uncle John's letters. It snapped her out of her momentary anger and the momentary sense that she and Anne were equal. In the family, emotions were no excuse for stepping out of one's place. Anne had never been in hers to start with, but Gwen didn't know what hers was to stay in it. Safer to assume it was the lower of the two, when it was all said and done. The subject change also meant that she didn't have to talk about it or think about it anymore.

The speech, which almost seemed to be Anne talking to herself, gave Gwen an idea. It was an idea the old Gwenhwyfar never would have dreamed of taking seriously, but things had changed. She needed an ally if she didn't want paying for a mistake to turn into being destroyed. She needed something else she could consider a penance to help her remember that she had accepted messing up and the consequences of doing so. She needed company before her head turned from sheer loneliness. The three could come together here, if she had the nerve to make an offer that might seem presumptuos.

Screwing up her courage and pushing down the arrogant, stubborn Carey reluctance to ask or offer anything, she said, "I could...help you, if you wanted me to." The offer was made heistantly, even shyly, and she was shocked to discover that she wasn't faking it. Oh,Merlin. She wasn't trying to keep her place. She was trying to make friends with Anne Wright. \n\n

0 Gwen True...but I think we can safely say we're on a new one. 63 Gwen 0 5

Anne

December 04, 2005 12:20 AM

Agreed. by Anne

Anne didn't really know what to say when Gwen finished her story. She was no Empath, but there was something hard and brittle about the way Gwen spoke of the event that didn't seem in character for a member of their too-perfect family or normal for anyone. People didn't go from stammering and apologetic, which she still hadn't worked out yet, to that sort of cold carelessness in a flash under normal circumstances. Something must have bothered her pretty badly for her to do it, but it was beyond Anne to work out what it was. She had been under the impression that the two Crotalus cliques were tight to begin with and made tighter by their rivalry. She had never met Tallow or Raines, but she thought she knew them by sight. Uncle Al must have really put on a show to turn the situation in that House on its head.

Gwen's assertion that his making trouble was a fairly common event was another one Anne didn't fully get. All she really knew about the man was that he was a jerk who liked his brandy and gave the impression that he was always waiting to be attacked, but he was apparently part of the order of monied purebloods with a semblance of sanity, not one to step outside of social conventions in public on a regular basis. There was something so familiar about the way Gwen said the words 'the way he always does'...

She shook it off. Whatever veiled meanings the expression held were Carey-St.Martin nonsense, a comment she was sure any of her cousins would have known the meaning of instantly, and thus none of her business. It was probably her cousins who made the tone familiar. Better to just change the subject without asking for or receiving more details that would just make things more complicated. She already had one stupid mystery in her lap. The last thing she needed was one concering the behavioral patterns and psychological depths of Gwen and Uncle Al.

She would have said she was surprised by Gwen's offer of assistance, but surprised was such a mild word. She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking if the poles had reversed in the middle of the night and made compasses point south. This day was proving to be at least as weird as it was sad. Why was Gwen being so nice - no, actually deferential! - to her, of all people?

Through the muddle of tiredness and emotions clouding her brain, it clicked. I think you're the only person who's speaking to me at the moment. The other girl wanted, if it was boiled down to the basics, company. The problem was that Anne had never been the giggle-with-your-girlfriends type, not even with Lena and Lavvie. Most of the few people she saw as non-hostile were boys.

It would probably be a temporary condition, though. Anne knew enough about girl bands to know that they usually got into huge blowups and then made up in a few days. These girls had been given a few weeks because of the holiday. Besides, this would be along the lines of Sherlock and Watson, not Barbie and Midge. They wouldn't be so much becoming pals as working together for a while, and it couldn't hurt to have the family's favorite owing her one.

"Sure," she said. "Welcome aboard Sleuth Interfamilial Airlines." She didn't expect Gwen to get the joke, but she thought it was at least somewhat witty. \n\n

16 Anne Agreed. 59 Anne 0 5

Gwen

December 07, 2005 6:36 PM

Clean out of titles by Gwen

Gwen managed a hesitant smile at the joke. She half-understood it, courtesy of her talks with Connor, but she had no intentions of letting on like she understood a word that Anne had just said, apart from 'sure'. The effort at a smile could just as easily be taken for shyness. She wasn't used to feeling shy and beholden to people, but she preferred the odd feeling being so evoked to the day when it didn't seem at all strange, if that day came. Merlin help her if it ever came.

"Okay," she said, and was horrified to feel proud of herself when she didn't stutter over the word. All this time to herself really was getting to her. "I'll do what I can." That would have to be enough for the moment. Any more, and she'd start stumbling over the words again. She had never felt so socially awkward in her life, but then, she'd never had reason to. She had always known her place.

Looking around for something to do in the silence after she shut up, Gwen noticed the distinct lack of Christmas decorations. It wasn't really surprising, given the amount of repair work the school had required, but still slightly depressing. Maybe freezing the waterfalls was supposed to be some sort of Christmas thing, though she couldn't see a point to it.

On a good Christmas at home, the party would have been in full swing. If the Savannah Careys could do nothing else right, they could still throw a party. Her parents, as the hosts, would be standing together to put on a show of unity, slightly tortured smiles on their faces, each with a drink in the free hand. Maybe Alasdair would have already had a few drinks before the party started to brace himself for hours of pretending that he was enjoying himself, and maybe Lorena would be so thin as to look tuberculear as she came out of one of her episodes, but they'd put on a good show for that one day, having already endured the morning with children and relations and presents and seeing keeping up the act through the evening as a test of will. There would be music and food and good company about, and everything would be fine, for a little while.

There were other Christmases, the ones where Lorena lay about all day and refused to get up or was not allowed to, and the worst one, the year she was gone and no one would tell Gwen or Morgaine where she was. Gwen knew, now, but she hadn't been informed, not gently, of the nature of her mother's illness until she was nine.

She realized with a start that it being Christmas meant that the next day was Edmond's birthday. Unless something had happened and even Morgaine hadn't somehow found a way to tell her, he'd be five. He had been born on the twenty-sixth of the year she was seven, a little past time, and his sisters had spent that Christmas with Lorena's parents per her request. Their father, disliking the cheerful informality of the Vaughns, had wanted to ship them off to Magnolia Grove where Sarah could keep an eye on them, but the Healers had apparently indicated that Lorena should be given her own way for a while. That had been a good Christmas. Gwen wouldn't be surprised if everything was done this year the way it had been that year. Even on the Vaughn level, pureblood parties had little in the way of variety.

She jerked her mind away from it. Thinking about the parties and Edmond's birthday wasn't taking her to them, and there wasn't anything wrong with this. She liked Sonora, now that she was used to it, and she was probably better off here than she would be spending Christmas with Aunt Rosamund, whoever she was. The fact that Gwen could never recall meeting her and only hearing her spoken of under strange circumstances even by Carey standards made it seem like she might not be someone to willingly associate with. She wished she could at least see Edmond on his birthday, though, and Morgaine on hers when it rolled around, but there was no chance of that happening. Morgaine's birthday was at the end of May, not long before they got out for the summer but still before.

"Just holler when you need somethin'," she said, a bit hastily, wincing when her mother's dialect came out plus her own accent. Though she had ceased to do so about the same time that Gwen took up calling her Mother, Lorena had always liked Christmas in her Mama days. "I usually won't have anything else that requires immediate doing." \n\n

0 Gwen Clean out of titles 63 Gwen 0 5

Anne

December 10, 2005 7:21 PM

Welcome to my world. by Anne

Anne was seriously starting to wonder if her cousin had dropped a few bricks from her load. Gwen was a lot of things, but she had never come across as shy, deferential, or any of the things she was currently being. Ever. It set off dozens of warning bells and red flags in Anne's paranoid brain that she was doing so now. She didn't really think it was a conspiracy, but something was up, and she wanted to know what it was.

She was not going to ask, though. It would show concern, which was the last thing Anne was interested in showing. It was the kind of question a friend or a real cousin might ask, and the only relationship she intended to have with any of the family was that of blood. If she could have, she would have done without that one, too. They were the enemy. No one with a drop of her grandparent's blood could be trusted. Gwenhwyfar was clearly hoping to win Anne over for use in some bizarre pureblood plot. Too bad she had no intentions of cooperating.

"Er - okay," Anne replied when Gwen broke the momentary silence. The sudden switch in accent caught her off-guard. The headache that had been circling her forehead all morning hit abruptly, making her wince at the sudden throbbing of her skull. Putting a hand to her temple, she took the excuse to get out of here before things got any more awkward. "I didn't get much sleep last night, so I'm going to go lie down for a while," she said, hoping the other girl wouldn't ask any questions. She doubted it, somehow. "Thanks for - " she paused, unsure, then shrugged as well as she could with one hand pressing her right temple. "Thanks." It would have to do. She wasn't much of a talker, and the only thing more awkward that thanking someone was asking them for something in the first place. Without further parleying, she began making her way out of the Hall and back to Aladren. \n\n

16 Anne Welcome to my world. 59 Anne 0 5