Let me know if I'm bothering you. [tag Nathaniel] on Teppenpaw Commons

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 12, 2020 10:42 PM

Let me know if I'm bothering you. [tag Nathaniel] by Alexander Pierce-Beales

A gray and brown splotchy owl - Alexander hadn't yet learned to name the different varieties - delivered the envelope. It was one of those big envelopes that always meant something. It was also heavy, which was promising. For a week, the envelope had been tucked under Alexander's books on his bedside table, waiting to be opened. Waiting for Alexander to find the nerve to open it. The first time he tried, his hands shook. The next time he tried, he got as far as breaking the stark green seal, marked with an image of an evergreen tree.

When he finally got himself to open the letter, and then to read it, he'd had to stop again. They had found his birth certificate. They knew who he was. And they thought there was the possibility of establishing contact with whoever was listed on that birth certificate. Alexander was hesitant to call them "parents" since they certainly hadn't done a lot of parenting. Nathaniel's previous words had stuck with him and he had been working hard to learn to value himself, even when people on his day one didn't value him very much.

It took him several tries to actually read the letter though, because his hands shook again. Finally, he managed it.

Dear Mr. Mason,

Attached, you'll find a copy of your birth certificate, as we have on record here at Puget Sound Regional Magical Hospital. In order to help process your other request - that contact information be provided if on file - we must ask you to submit the additionally attached request form with the appropriate names, as listed on your birth certificate. If we are able to provide contact to those individuals, and those individuals are willing to provide contact information, we will be able to put you in touch within a few months. Please note whether you would like to request additional contact information for any potential siblings or extended family members if applicable and as available.

Thank you,
Director of the Puget Sound Regional Magical Hospital

Alexander had been born in a magical hospital. That meant that his mother at least was magical. That made a whole lot more sense and explained why he hadn't had any luck finding his records at other hospitals in the area. But why had he been left at such a non-magical - even mundane - group home?

Finally, Alexander forced himself to view the birth certificate. It was the first document that acknowledged his existence. It came before his intake forms and his social work papers and everything else that he had in a file cabinet in Seattle. This was first. And this said that at one point, Alexander had a mom and dad. Their last names weren't the same, which didn't necessarily mean anything, but given his circumstances, Alexander suspected it meant that they weren't married.

Claire Mason and Mathias Stones. He might've been Alexander Stones if things were different. Instead, he had his mother's last name. Mother. Mathias Stones' name was printed on the birth certificate in the same hand as Claire Mason's, and while hers had a signature underneath, his did not. Alexander's chest clenched at the idea that his father, a man he had loved and hated for so many years, might not even know he existed.

That was . . . maybe better? However, the hospital's letter had brought new questions that made him feel a bit sick. He hadn't yet considered the possibility of siblings or cousins or grandparents. What if this family was terrible? It didn't sound like much of a family. What if one of them was dead? Or both were? What if he had a whole slew of siblings and he was the only one they didn't decide to keep? That sucked. What if those siblings didn't know about him either? Would he be ruining people's lives if he requested contact with them and they were informed of his existence? Was that his problem to worry about?

Alexander's head was spinning. He even forgot about Barnabas for what seemed like a very long time. When he remembered the little purple horse, he remembered that he was still holding the letter, and the birth certificate, and the request documents. He had to free his hands to hold Barnabas, so he put the envelope's contents down on his bed in front of him. Barnabas was sort of soft and fuzzy, but it was the first time in Alexander's life that he could ever remember that not helping. In some ways, it was worse. Because Alexander grew up with a stuffed toy for his best friend, and for his mother, and his father, and his brothers and sisters. Barnabas was there for him more than his family had been.

The numbness and anxiety turned red and hot and Alexander's vision changed. In some ways, it was sharper; the names on the birth certificate stood out, despite their increased distance from him. In some ways, it was hazy. Nothing made sense anymore, and Alexander wasn't sure if the haze was inside or outside his own head. Which was also his parents' fault because he could have grown up knowing about all of this. He wouldn't have felt so behind. He wouldn't have felt so alone. He wouldn't have been alone.

Guilt struck him then as he thought of the friends he'd made and the person he'd become. How could he think for a moment that he would have traded that for parents, particularly when those parents obviously didn't want him? But he knew he would. He would give it all up to know what it felt like to be hugged by someone who loved him. Heck, he'd give it up just to know what it felt like to be loved beyond all doubt.

The thought made him mad again. His heart pounded in his chest, in his stomach, in his temple, and in his throat. His eyes burned with tears that he wouldn't let fall until he couldn't help it, and that point was coming fast. He wanted to scream, but he didn't want to be heard. That's right, he didn't want to be heard because even here, in this stupid school, in this stupid dorm, in this stupid life, he was alone. And who's fault was that?

Alexander didn't realize he was still holding Barnabas until he forced himself to take a breath at the sound of ripping fabric. He looked down to find part of a purple horse in one hand and part in the other. Stuffing was on the floor. Anger quickly transformed into horror and nausea. He killed Barnabas. He killed his best friend. Tears spilled down his cheeks, burning hot as he dropped to his knees and gathered the bits of the only one who had always been there for him.

"Barnabas," he croaked as a sob wracked his chest. "Barnabas, no. Please." He couldn't get the words out of his mouth to beg and to plead with the universe to take this moment back. He couldn't make any words come out because a low moan of horror and grief had overwhelmed him. "Barnabas," he whimpered.

This stupid world was magic right? His stupid mom and his stupid school and his stupid self was magic? They could fix this. They hadn't talked about necromancy yet, but he was pretty sure stuffed purple horse revival fell short of whatever law probably prohibited that.

He reached for his wand and found that his hands had resumed shaking. With a guttural shout, he threw it across the room, not caring about the dull sparks that it emitted when it hit the wall and then landed on the floor. Collecting all of the pieces of his best friend, and making sure not to miss even the smallest fiber of fluff, Alexander cradled him to his chest and pushed himself to his feet. He ran from the room, his sobs having given way to fierce determination.

Once in the Common Room, he intended to look for Professor Xavier or Nathaniel or whoever in is stupid school could fix this one small piece of a shattered life. In his rush, he bounded directly into the prefect; perhaps the universe wasn't purely out to destroy his life just yet.

"Please," he begged desperately, holding Barnabas aloft. "Please fix it, please please fix him. I got the letter . . . the hospital wrote back . . . and I . . . I didn't mean to. Please help me." He dissolved into useless blubbering as he waited for his perfect, the only person who had ever been as much like family as he had any right to hope for, to fix it. Fix anything.

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales Let me know if I'm bothering you. [tag Nathaniel] 1475 1 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 13, 2020 1:28 PM

It's okay. It'll be okay. by Nathaniel Mordue

For a moment, staring at the scenario which had just barreled into him, Nathaniel was not sure at all what was going on. That a small madman wanted his assistance was clear, and that the small madman was in distress was clear, and that the...things...being shoved at him were involved was clear, but all those things combined still did not manage to paint a picture which was at all clear. It was as if someone had tried to develop film, he thought, and left out both the belladonna and the agrimony - one could see images, but they were not clear, as though the eyes were constricted in viewing them in some respect.

"The hospital wrote back."

Oh.

Nathaniel bit his lip. This was not the sort of reaction it had occurred to him Alexander might have, exactly, when he got some response about his origins - the majority of Nathaniel's instincts told him to hide in times of trouble, to shut himself away from everyone and try to process what had just happened, or else hope that it would go away - but it was still clear that what he had feared had probably come to pass. Either the boy was hysterical because there was no information, or he was hysterical because he had just turned over a stone that should have remained firmly in place over whatever nest of basilisks it had concealed.

"Hush - calm down," he urged Alexander in an undertone, somewhat awkwardly reaching out to pat the younger Teppenpaw's shoulder. "I'll help you, but you don't want everyone to see you like this," he added, steering him back toward the stairwell which led to the dorms. That was not exactly a place one was guaranteed invisibility, but it was better than the open room.

The assemblage of purple fabric and stuffing Alexander had in his hands made Nathaniel think that the request for things to be fixed was at least as much a literal request as it was a figurative one, and that was something of a relief. This was a problem he could actually fix. "Just hold all that together," he said as he withdrew his wand. It wasn't strictly necessary for the spell to work, but it would make things easier, and also make Alexander feel he was actively involved in fixing his...whatever. Was it a horse? Hippocampus? The head looked like something along those lines. "Reparo."

The charm was not particularly complex, and the stuffing began to sort itself out immediately, compacting into something of a cylinder as the two halves of the covering fabric came back together, the threads working slightly as they twined back together and the snapped ones became whole again. Objects, after all, had a drive toward integrity - or so the charms text said. Nathaniel was not so sure. For this object to have been created, after all, another object - specifically, the bolt of fabric used to make the stuffy toy's exterior - had had to lose its integrity, being cut into pieces to make the right shapes. The dyes used to make it purple were also impositions on its natural state. What, then, made an object...?

Well, that was a matter for his essays, he supposed. For the moment, he was just glad that the toy horse seemed to be in one piece again. "There. See? Good as new. If you want, I can put another charm on it to make it harder to damage," he offered. "Or just give you a calming draught." Potions was Nathaniel's best subject, the one where his marks and comprehension of the subject had taken the least damage during his breakdown, which was why he trusted his abilities enough to have prepared a little stash of that particular potion, for times when his nerves became so strained that he could not wrestle his way through it any further. "Or both. I'm guessing the hospital didn't give you the answer you wanted?" he asked, sympathy creeping into his voice despite his efforts to sound calm and reassuring only. It was a hard lesson to learn, that the world was a fundamentally disappointing place; he should, he thought, have prepared the kid better for how bad it had been likely to be.

16 Nathaniel Mordue It's okay. It'll be okay. 1412 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 15, 2020 11:30 AM

How do you know that?! by Alexander Pierce-Beales

"You don't want everyone to see you like this."

First, the world crumbled a little more. Alexander hadn't thought that there was much left to crumble, particularly since he'd never had much anyway, but hearing that Nathaniel, the superhero in his comic book, thought he had something to be embarrassed about, really really hurt. Then, however, he thought that perhaps it wasn't Nathaniel who was the problem, it was himself. It was true, he didn't want people to see him like this on the whole, and he certainly didn't want people to see an associate of Nathaniel's like this. He was an embarrassment. No wonder his parents didn't want him. He must have been a terrible baby.

Alexander watched with wide eyes, his sobs momentarily subdued, as Barnabas came back to life. Normally, he wouldn't display such open affection towards the little guy, but today was not a normal day and he clutched him to his chest.

"Thank you so much," he murmured to Nathaniel. The prefect's offer was not tempting for Alexander; if Barnabas was stronger, what was there to make Alexander think more about his actions before taking them? No, it would be better that he had something fragile and learned to be better. "That's okay," he said. "I won't do that again."

The idea of taking a Calming Draught seemed sort of helping, but also. . . . he had seen potions and they were gross and he didn't want to imbibe one right now. He shook his head again at the offer.

Alexander sighed, letting out a lot of air and dropping Barnabas a little from his chest - though his hands remained firmly latched around him - and looked away from Nathaniel's eyes. The older boy seemed so much more put together; he was calm, kind, and reserved. Perhaps that was what prefects were meant for? Alexander was sorted into Teppenpaw for his potential, not his actual, ability to be like that. If he just started trying now, maybe he could get there someday.

"They sent my birth certificate," he said quietly, struggling to keep both the anger and the grief out of his voice. "I don't think my parents were married. They had different last names. Claire Mason and Mathias Stones." It felt good to say their names out loud. It felt good to not use the titles 'mom' and 'dad' out loud. "I don't think Mathias Stones knows about me. Only Claire's signature was on the birth certificate. They want to know if I want to request contact, and if I do, whether I want contact with just my parents, or whether I want contact with potential siblings or extended family." His sentences were clipped, like he was continuing as long as he could before he'd have to take a breath again. Before he'd have to swallow his feelings again. He looked up at Nathaniel again. "What if I have a bunch of siblings, and I'm the only one they didn't want?" Tears brimmed in his eyes again, but he blinked them away. "What if I try to get contact and it ruins someone else's family?" If it did, that was a family that should have been his anyway. But it wasn't, and he didn't have any right to ruin that for anyone else.

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales How do you know that?! 1475 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 15, 2020 5:32 PM

I...uh...have a badge! I know things. People with badges generally know things. by Nathaniel Mordue

When Alexander said he had his birth certificate but did not think his parents had been married, Nathaniel felt as though the bottom of his stomach dropped out. For one wild moment, he was sure that Alexander was going to say that he had some reason to assume his worthless father was also Nathaniel's worthless father. If he said that - !

He did not, as it happened, say that. Nathaniel was not sure what exactly he would have said, done, or thought had the boy said that, though. It would have stretched belief, surely - but there were definitely people who physically resembled him less than Alexander did (itself an argument against him being Father's son - they had the Mordue eyes, and side by side he and Jeremy didn't exactly not resemble their cousins, but on the whole, he thought he and his brother took mostly after their mother physically), and his father was - had been - an adulterous bastard, in the non-legal sense of the latter word. It would have been the stuff of Greek tragedy, or else farce, and the Greeks had known well enough that such things did happen. Prophecies were made about such relations. It had not been impossible, but he was not sure if he was relieved or slightly disappointed to hear that the boy's parents were named Claire and Mathias.

Claire Mason and Mathias Stones. Stones. He knew - well, knew there was - a Stones in his classes. Surely not, though....

He made a mental note of this for later consideration and focused back on the rest of what Alexander was saying. Again, he felt a rush of sadness for the kid, and sympathy.

"Let's talk about this in my room," he suggested, figuring they could not shield the kid's dignity very long in the stairwell.

His room had the same dimensions as the others in Teppenpaw, but only had one bed in it, neatly made up since it was still too early to go to bed. Behind the doors of his wardrobe, his clothes were somewhat haphazardly thrown around unless the prairie elves had seen to them in his absence, but it had been a while since he had given in to the urge to let his room deteriorate too far, and he had stopped breaking things as an outlet for his feelings. Most of the time, anyway, and he fixed them before he went out again. It was an improvement over last year in any case.

On the walls, evenly spaced, all of the same size, and in matching frames, there were several landscape photographs. One showed, from an angle, a large house, partially obscured by the gently swaying leaves of the tree the treehouse was in on his side at home. Another was a closer-up of the treehouse itself, taken on his broom a few summers before. The next one showed the same treehouse at a bit more distance, this time with a pair of young children hanging out of it. The last showed a single empty room, almost entirely white; a chaise lounge, occupied only by a blue shawl and an upside-down book, stood near the gauzy curtains over a pair of French doors leading to a balcony. In the distance, one could, if one studied it closely, just make out a massive tree, shrunk to a detail in this image, with a treehouse in it.

On Nathaniel's nightstand, there were also photographs, of different sizes, all pointing toward the bed itself, so they were the first thing he saw when he woke up in the mornings. One very candid photograph was of a small boy and a small girl in green robes, grinning and clutching their new wands. Next to it stood an only slightly more formally arranged photograph of a tired-looking woman with curling brown hair sitting on a settee near a roaring fire and a sumptuous Christmas tree with a boy - similar to Nathaniel in appearance, but with a sulkier resting expression; the boy also shifted irritably in his frame, as though still annoyed, all these years later, at being asked to pose for one more shot - in pyjamas beside her, her arm around the boy's shoulders. Finally, there was a portrait photograph of the same woman alone, her hair formally arranged, sitting with her head turned toward the camera. The large, sad eyes blinked at the room, and her slight smile occasionally shifted, as though she forgot it and then hoisted it back into place a lot. Nathaniel hoped Alexander didn't take too much notice of these photographs as Nathaniel went over to the nightstand and picked up two books there; with a silent apology to the librarian in his head, he dropped them unceremoniously on the floor and pointed his wand at them, muttering "Stula," firmly, whereupon the books began to transform into a pair of simple chairs.

"They really should give us more options for entertaining," he remarked, at least half to himself, before waving Alexander toward one of the chairs. He took the other for himself; the cushion, he noted, still felt rather papery, but it would do, at least unless they were talking here for some hours, in which case they'd both eventually fall flat on their rears on the floor when the spell wore off the books. He sighed and looked at the boy, trying to think what he should really say.

"I'm sorry you've had...difficult news," he said softly. "I wish I had - well - warned you more. A family can be a hell of a thing to happen to a person." He bit his lip. "I remember your questions - I can't answer them, though," he admitted honestly. "There's no way for anyone to answer those, unless they're a Seer. So I suppose I'll ask you a different question. Do you know what you want to do?"

16 Nathaniel Mordue I...uh...have a badge! I know things. People with badges generally know things. 1412 Nathaniel Mordue 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 15, 2020 9:37 PM

I don't think I'll ever get a badge then. by Alexander Pierce-Beales

Alexander followed Nathaniel into his room, which he didn't even know was a thing he could do. He supposed it wasn't something that was meant to happen often, but the enchantments and rules technically only blocked students from entering dorms of the opposite sex, so that was not going to be an issue in this case. Whether Nathaniel's room seemed especially fancy because he was a prefect or because he didn't have any roommates, Alexander wasn't sure, but it certainly did seem fancy. Perhaps this was what homes were supposed to look like. Alexander couldn't imagine having this many belongings.

"Did you take all these?" he asked, eyeing the photographs around the room with appreciation and wariness. He still wasn't sure how he felt about photographs moving, but it seemed rude to put his hand up and just not look at them. "They're good," he added.

Alexander got the impression that Nathaniel wasn't who he seemed to be as a prefect. As much as his room was orderly and almost mechanical in nature, there were signs of a real human living here, and the very nature of artistry in photography seemed not to fit the rest of the little signs of personality. Did that mean Nathaniel was a particularly orderly person with a secret creative streak? Or a creative person who secretly craved order? Looking over the older boy who had just led them to his private rooms to avoid the staring eyes of onlookers, it was hard to think that either side of his personality was exactly a secret. He was just Nathaniel. That made him easy to be around; at least Alexander knew what he was getting.

He took a seat, not responding to Nathaniel's comment about entertaining. That was not even a concept in his world and he wasn't ready to stray into even more new territory just yet. All of this was new, though, and here he was. Straying. He didn't blame Nathaniel for not warning him, and it surprised him that he thought to apologise for it.

Difficult struck him as exactly the right word. It wasn't exactly bad news, but it wasn't exactly good news. But it was more than just neutral news. This meant something for him, and he wasn't sure what yet. He fidgeted with Barnabas, keeping his eyes on his mended friend's little face as he mulled over what he wanted to say.

"I want to know why they didn't keep me," he decided, his voice firmer and more sure than he expected. Whatever the reason was, however good or bad, he thought that it would be better to just get it done and work through his feelings about it than just never know. To be wondering was worse; he'd rather rip the bandaid off all at once. "I want to know if I came from good people. I don't know if I want to talk to them." He wrinkled his nose at the thought of trying to send owl mail to his new parents from school. "I don't know if I want to know if I have siblings. Is it bad of me to find out? What if it messes up their lives?"

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales I don't think I'll ever get a badge then. 1475 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 16, 2020 12:38 PM

The trick is just not to admit it to the adults. by Nathaniel Mordue

"Most of them," said Nathaniel of his photographs. "I'm in that one, though," he added, pointing to the picture of himself and Sylvia in the treehouse. "That girl's my cousin. She's in Crotalus. We're about the same age."

He was not sure why he dedicated more of his speech to clarifying Sylvia's identity than his own. Sylvia had still looked more or less like herself, just on a smaller scale, back then, but he had still needed to grow into half his facial features. He barely recognized his own face like that anymore.

There were other differences, too, besides those naturally brought about by time. The Nathaniel in the picture had smiled a lot more easily than the current iteration. He had already been wary and watchful, already constantly reading the moods in the room to figure out how to negotiate the places between his parents where the air had already sometimes been too thick with suspicion and anger to breathe - but he had still thought things would fundamentally always be all right in the end. Back then, after all, his mother had still been invited to Aunt Avery's to-dos, and had even hosted the occasional tea party herself. Back then, after all, his father always had come back eventually, regardless of how long he'd wandered off this time or that one....

"I nearly drove whoever took that insane, setting up the shot and doing retakes," he added. "It was already a hobby by then. My mother thought I ought to have one."

His mother knew a little of the art herself, though of course she had not been able to do much with it - the least fumes brought on coughing and her headaches, which rather limited the sort of potions-work she could do. More conveniently, however, alluding to his mother allowed him to pretend that that picture hadn't been taken by his father.

"The others are mine, though. Thank you," he added to that, remembering that his work had been complimented.

He listened to Alexander's replies about his own desires - which were at least clear - and then to another barrage of unanswerable questions.

"Listen to me," he said. "It's up to you whether you try to speak with these people or not - but what comes from it if you do isn't your fault." His voice was lower and more forceful than usual, with a hint of urgency behind it. "If your parents have lives that are that easily messed up, that's because of decisions they made, not the decisions you made. As for any brothers or sisters you might have - " Nathaniel grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek, staring past Alexander for a moment. "If your parents are that sort," he began again, "then I highly doubt any brothers or sisters you might have will really be that surprised. They might not be happy, but they probably won't be surprised." Nathaniel would not be at all surprised to find out he had a baker's dozen of half-siblings. He'd know for sure in the horrifying event that his mother bore a child to Elphwick, but he would not be at all surprised if he discovered someday that his father had had six or seven other children before he'd even bothered to abandon his legitimate family. "So no - there's nothing bad about finding out if you want to. Or not, if you don't want to. But you don't have to make any decisions now. You can think about it. Or even get the information and then decide what to do with it. There's not really a right or wrong thing to do here - for you, anyway. But you should be prepared for...anything, if you do contact them."

16 Nathaniel Mordue The trick is just not to admit it to the adults. 1412 Nathaniel Mordue 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 16, 2020 5:04 PM

Adults suck anyway. by Alexander Pierce-Beales

Alexander frowned at the picture of Nathaniel and his cousin. What would it be like to go to school with family? To have family at all? Nathaniel and Sylvia looked happy enough in the picture that he almost thought . . . well maybe he could have something, even if it wasn't what he always wanted.

His eyes smiled a little at Nathaniel's explanation of the photograph taken be his mother. As much as Alexander sort of regretted asking about these pictures because now he was just thinking about family, he was sort of glad, too. He and Nathaniel weren't that much different in that they both captured images to make the world look a little better. It was just that Nathaniel found small good things in the big real thing, and Alexander made them. He decided that Nathaniel's superhero persona should have a mask, then.

Nathaniel got very serious and Alexander wondered for a moment if he was in trouble. But it sounded like maybe everyone else was in trouble. The world, his parents . . . Alexander couldn't do anujg wrong? Because others already had done all the wrongs. He supposed that if Alexandra or Mab or someone told him that they were going through this, he wouldn't blame them either. Maybe . . . it wasn't his fault? Babies don't really commit crimes or anything, so it probably wasn't his fault that his parents didn't want him. Maybe they wouldn't have wanted any baby. That made them bad, not him. If he ever had a baby, he wouldn't let it go.

"Thank you," he murmured, appreciating Nathaniel's help more than he really was consciously aware of. He really hated when aadults tried to answer questions they didn't know the answers to and unseat made stuff up or lied or whatever. Nathaniel was saying he didn't know, and that was worlds better than anything else. "If I get their information, they get mine," he explained, remembering the two-way consent. "Do you think I have cousins," he asked slowly, nodding at the image. "Or siblings that . . . are at Sonora?" he asked, well aware that he didn't know many names outside of the Beginner class. Not that any of them would necessarily have the same last name anyway. "That would be . . . different. Do you like going to school with your family?"

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales Adults suck anyway. 1475 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 17, 2020 10:31 AM

The vast majority do, I agree. by Nathaniel Mordue

"Ah." Two-way information sharing did make things rather more difficult. "Well. That does make things more difficult. Though if you know names and they don't, then you do have some advantage over them," said Nathaniel, hoping to cheer the boy up.

And then Alexander brought up the very thing that Nathaniel had briefly wondered about, when he had heard the beginning of this story, and Nathaniel had a decision to make. Luckily, Alexander going on to ask what it was like going to school with family did give him a moment longer to think.

"I doubt I'd have made it this long without Sylvia, so," said Nathaniel with a shrug, standing and walking over to examine the portrait of himself and his cousin again. "It's a good thing that I go to school with her." This was putting it mildly; Sylvia was his other half, and he had not coped well with losing her last year. What in hell was he going to do when she made one of these ambitious marriages she was always after and left him forever, he wondered? Though, it occurred to him, Sylvia might have a solution for that already planned out; she had begged him, last year, not to leave her. Now that he was not much of a catch in the marriage market, she might well intend for him to follow her and whatever husband she caught around for the rest of his life...

He reached out as if to touch the photographed child-Sylvia's cheek, but pulled back before he could make contact with the glass. "My other cousin, Simon," he continued, stepping away from that picture and toward the next, even though it didn't involve Simon in any way and he also therefore turned back to look at Alexander as he spoke, his hands clasped behind his back. "He finished school last year - we've always been perfectly cordial. My younger brother...." Nathaniel smiled wearily, without amusement. "We have a complicated relationship. So you see. It's hard to give a simple answer to whether or not I like it - though I'd rather be here with Sylvia and my brother than be away from them. Other people might feel differently, though, and for good reasons - if you ever meet anyone named Pierce while you're at this school, you shouldn't assume they're on good terms with anyone else named Pierce unless they bring it up," he added. He was not sure he could explain how the larger families and their offshoots worked to Alexander, and the Pierces were a special case even by such standards - there was no forgetting Winston and his aunt who was not his aunt, but who he' had to acknowledge as though she was anyway, despite the fact her ancestry was...not one that should have ever allowed her to be deferred to by Winston, even as a child, unless it was in some teaching role. The Mordues had their problems, but at least there had never been mysterious deaths or...that. Nathaniel was in this position in no small part because he would do something untoward rather than call a half-blood 'Father'. "There's a complicated family! But in general..."

He went back to his book-chair and sat down again, the cushion making a faint rustling sound. "I'm not sure I should tell you this," he admitted frankly, "but I do know another student in this school with one of those last names. Not well - I wouldn't say we're friends - and it's a long shot anyway, but I can probably have a word with her without getting hexed, and ask if your father's name means anything to her, see if that gets you around the system a bit. If you would like it done, of course. "

16 Nathaniel Mordue The vast majority do, I agree. 1412 Nathaniel Mordue 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 17, 2020 1:28 PM

It's nice to find someone who's a not-adult to help me. by Alexander Pierce-Beales

Sometimes, the way Nathaniel talked about things made Alexander wonder more and more about his background. He wasn't one to ask unless it came up naturally or, in the case of Mab, if he was surprised enough to forget not to, but he couldn't help wondering what sort of childhood would lead a teenager to think of information as an advantage over people. It wasn't that that wasn't true, just that it was sort of a harsh way to see the world. But maybe that was Alexander's problem. Clearly he didn't have to be gullible or vulnerable to be a Teppenpaw because Nathaniel was Teppenpaw, and Nathaniel was nice, too. Plus, Mab and Mara were nice, and they weren't Teppenpaws. So maybe Alexander needed to get some thicker skin and harder eyes. He'd started smiling too much and the world was reminding him why that was dangerous.

Family really did sound complicated. It was hard to think of keeping all those names and relations straight, although Alexander had kept the kids he'd met in the system straight so it obviously isn't impossible. Plus families did stuff, right? Family reunions, weddings, birthday parties, funerals . . . there were little things that emphasized how important family was. Or not so little things, maybe.

The information about the Pierces was helpful and Alexander glommed on to it as his second piece of information that gave him an advantage. If he was stuck in this world now, he was going to make sure this world was stuck with him too. He didn't want to be bad, but he didn't want to be soft, either. That hadn't helped anything at all. Maybe he'd give himself a mask in his comic book too.

These thoughts were put aside when Nathaniel said he knew someone here with one of those last names. His eyes rounded as he thought about it. Arguably, neither Mason nor Stones was a rare name, and there was a good chance they weren't related. But also, Alexander hadn't met any other magic people with the same last name yet, and not that many non-magical people. Maybe there was something to be said for that. And knowing would be an advantage. He was learning fast.

He nodded after a moment's thought, not one to make a decision on the spot too often. "Her," he repeated. That might be a cousin, but it might also be a sister. And if she was at this school and not in Alexander's year, that meant she was older than he was and he'd been born after she was born. Did that mean her parents split up after she was born maybe? Or did that mean he wasn't supposed to have ever existed at all? He supposed those weren't mutually exclusive, and it was all conjecture anyway; she might not be related at all. "You would do that for me?"

Nathaniel, he realized, was giving up a lot for him. For one, he seemed like a bit of a mess inside, and yet here he was helping a first year with his problems. Family wasn't a topic that Nathaniel seemed super comfortable with, but here he was, helping a first year with his family. Maybe it wasn't that Alexander needed to be harder, but that he needed to be more careful. He could help other people and maybe that would help him too. He liked to think that helping him was helpful for Nathaniel somehow. He wondered if he could help Mab find her mom.

"If you would, I'd really like that."

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales It's nice to find someone who's a not-adult to help me. 1475 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 18, 2020 10:47 AM

It's nice to feel helpful. by Nathaniel Mordue

Nathaniel was surprised, at first, when Alexander repeated the word 'her,' but then felt - of all things - a flash of something like pride. As far as picking up carelessly divulged bits of information went, it was not a particularly significant event, but it showed that Alexander was paying attention, not just blindly listening to whatever Nathaniel said. That was good, long-term, really. Nathaniel had learned the hard way that it was not good to totally depend on anyone, and he liked Alexander - or at least liked being very clearly held in high esteem. At this point, however, he had apparently become Alexander's go-to person, and that brought with it certain obligations, obligations similar to the ones Nathaniel felt he had so disastrously failed to live up to with Jeremy.

"Her, yes," he said. "One of the girls. Not in our House, though."

Alexander seemed momentarily skeptical, which was fair - Nathaniel was, after all, stepping somewhat beyond the bounds of what a prefect normally did here. It was not something he had an obligation to do. It was a deliberate act of charity, essentially, for he could hardly expect much other than gratitude back. But he had been involved this long. He had helped Alexander figure out where to write, been prepared to front any fees various officials might want for copies of birth certificates...he'd already overstepped his formal role. And while he knew, of course, that finding answers for Alexander would do absolutely nothing to find answers for Nathaniel, or help him figure out how to help Jeremy, or anything like that - but it was a relief to think he could help someone.

"It's no trouble at all," he said. "Besides - if we sons of messy families don't help each other out, who else can we count on?" he half-joked. "Certainly not our fathers." Not his, anyway.

"Oh, by the way," he said, remembering something else. "The Ball that's coming up. I've been meaning to ask if you had any questions about that - seems a bit outside what you're used to," he explained.

16 Nathaniel Mordue It's nice to feel helpful. 1412 Nathaniel Mordue 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 18, 2020 12:43 PM

Someday, I hope I can say the same. by Alexander Pierce-Beales

A girl, not in their House, who was older than second year. Granted, that still left over twenty girls. He could rule out some of them by name - Sylvia Mordue for one - but that still left a lot. He didn't know whether he should start looking into that, or just wait for Nathaniel to do some digging for him. He supposed it wouldn't do him any good to look her up on his own and there was no point in ruffling his own feathers just to answer "what's her first name." It wouldn't do him any good anyway; he hadn't met her as far as he knew, and he wasn't about to approach her just yet. He nodded pensively.

Nathaniel called them "we" and called them "sons." Neither of those were words Alexander was used to having applied to himself. "Certainly not our fathers," Alexander replied, with a bit less humor than Nathaniel had used. "Thank you," he said, not sure whether he'd already said it. Everything was a bit fuzzy for him just now.

He blinked, surprised when the conversation turned to the Ball. It wasn't something he had put a lot of thought into. Was he supposed to have done? What sort of questions was he supposed to ask? He knew Nathaniel was going to have to open a dance because he was a prefect, he knew he had a pretty decent suit that Mab had bought for him, and he knew he had at least one person to hang out with.

"I don't think I'd know what to ask," he admitted, scratching his head and shifting a little in his seat, trying to settle. He hadn't realized how amped up he'd been before. "I don't really know how to dance, but I doubt Mab has real high expectations there. Is there anything you think I should know?"

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales Someday, I hope I can say the same. 1475 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 18, 2020 8:31 PM

I think you're gonna go far, kid. by Nathaniel Mordue

Polite under stress. That's a good quality. One I need improvement in, to be honest, thought Nathaniel when a somewhat dazed-seeming Alexander thanked him again. He did not count what had happened with his mother as a case of losing his manners under stress - he had been, for the most part, in command of his faculties he thought, and so his only regret was that she had proved the stronger, at least with a comfortable few hundred miles between their locations - but he had lost his temper with Dr. Greene more than once. Worse, he thought that was what she wanted him to do - she spoke about how expressing his feelings openly, in safe ways, was a good way to prevent them from jumbling up until they became overwhelming and made him sick. He did not appreciate being manipulated, but the woman was fiendishly talented in that regard...

"Dancing's not too hard," he said when asked what ought to be asked. "You can go to MARS - room...three I think? - and the portraits can give you some tips, but mostly, don't step on her feet, say it didn't hurt if she steps on your feet, and try not to bump into anyone else," he said matter-of-factly. "Besides, I think most people spend more time eating and gossiping anyway. Oh, and you tell her she looks beautiful whether you think so or not, unless...I suppose there are people who try not to look well at such things?" he said this in a tone of mild bafflement, his mind going to Ness McLeod. "I don't understand why they do that at parties, but there aren't many of them. You're probably safer with something like 'you look lovely'." Nathaniel shook his head slightly. "I know from my cousin it's a lot of fuss for girls. Doesn't quite seem fair, when all we have to do is wear something that isn't our uniforms, but that's society for you."

Nathaniel did think these customs were a bit silly, despite how beneficial they were to him, in that he got to wear something reasonably close to normal and that he got to enjoy looking at the ladies in their finery, but that wasn't why he mentioned it. It would be vulgar to just ask if Alexander had anything decent to wear, but since Alexander's upbringing seemed to have been exceptionally spartan and half of Teppenpaw probably knew by now that Nathaniel had taken the first year under his wing by now (or that Alexander had simply inserted himself there), he thought he ought to check.

16 Nathaniel Mordue I think you're gonna go far, kid. 1412 0 5