Clarice blushed, lightly running her tongue under her teeth, âNever been one for light colours me, Iâm kind of resenting whoever chose the colour schemeâ she said with a little laugh, âBut you really do look great,â she clarified, âbut its a great party,â at least she thought it was. It wasnât as though Clarice had a lot to compare it too. She took a sip of her drink, barely resisting the need to grimace as the taste landed on her tongue, as though she was trying to avoid scrunching her face after sucking on a lemon. âSo, what have you been up to?â She coughed, champaign never was her strong suit.
claribaultâ:
Clarice smiled as she turned, revealing the person who had been approaching from the corner of her eye, âOh, erâhiâ she smiled broadly as she recognised the woman, and graciously accepted the flute of champaign, âThanks, Alecto, right?â She blushed at the comment on her dress, laughing it off, âIts a bit gaudy for my tasteâ Clarice looked down at herself, in the spirit of the solstice ball, sheâd chosen to wear a yellow dress, something light theyâd said. Pair that with her hair styleâ âFeels like I walked out of the 60sâ she joked.
âYou look gorgeous, by the way,â Clarice said, giving the woman a once over, hoping it came across as sincerely as she meant it. Alecto truly was a sight to behold. âCheersâ she held out her drink, flashing her most charming smile.
â
Alecto was feeling quite social tonight. It was a surprise really, considering how her evening had started. But sheâd had a little cry, fixed her make up, and decided that she was determined to have a good time. She wasnât going to let silly men change that. âYepâŚ. Alecto Carrowâ She wasnât used to people not knowing who she was, but she supposed it could be pretty useful. âMmmâŚ. That is pretty trueâŚ.â She mused with a little laugh. âBut at least it meets the dress codeâŚ.â So really she could have done much worse. She thought lights was a pretty easy dress code, but clearly not.
âOh thank youâŚ.â She mused with a smile. âI love this colour paletteâŚâ And she loved pastels, even if it was hard to match with her hair. âCheer.â She murmured, clinking her drink against Clariceâs before taking a sip .
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Clarice smiled as she turned, revealing the person who had been approaching from the corner of her eye, âOh, erâhiâ she smiled broadly as she recognised the woman, and graciously accepted the flute of champaign, âThanks, Alecto, right?â She blushed at the comment on her dress, laughing it off, âIts a bit gaudy for my tasteâ Clarice looked down at herself, in the spirit of the solstice ball, sheâd chosen to wear a yellow dress, something light theyâd said. Pair that with her hair styleâ âFeels like I walked out of the 60sâ she joked.
âYou look gorgeous, by the way,â Clarice said, giving the woman a once over, hoping it came across as sincerely as she meant it. Alecto truly was a sight to behold. âCheersâ she held out her drink, flashing her most charming smile.
Where: Ball of the East India House
When: Around 9.30pm
Who: Alecto and @claribaultâ
Alecto was having a good evening. Her neves had settled a little after a while, mostly because she had decided that she really didnât care what people thought of her wearing last years dress. At least she had followed the dress code. She looked pretty great too. Her dress was amazing, even if it wasnât new. So what if people talked about her? At least they would remember her that way. She turned, ready to get a drink off of a passing waiter, when she spotted a familiar face. There meeting might have been brief, but she remembered the fact of the girl whoâs drink she had knocked to the floor. She grinned, taking two glasses of champagne from the waiter, before heading over to Clarice
âFor the split drinkâŚ.â She mused, a grin on her face as she held the drink to the girl. âAlsoâŚ. you look lovelyâ
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"So neither of you actually saw it happen," She clarified, low king between James and Lily, " but you were at the scene?" Sure it wasn't the unexpected break in the case Clarice was looking for but it was still a break. "Did you see anyone there?" She tried to keep her tone light, "A man? Woman? Anything?â, someone with blonde hair and a spoilt brat attitude, she didnât say.Â
âWait,â Clarice paused, âYouâre an Auror?â She turned to James, eyes wide, now that was something she could use.
oh-evansâ:
@claribaultâ
@jamspctterâ
Lily thought she felt something hit her bag, but she chalked it up to a gust of wind and a paranoid mind. âOh, Iâm the first one? Lucky you Clarice, I get to be the first one to gossip about you,â she joked. Only half a joke- half of her was dying for this to be over so she could be the first to tell everyone sheâd met Jamesâ mysterious new girlfriend (except Marlene- Merlin, hadnât she just told Marlene she might have feelings for him? She wasnât particularly prideful, but sheâd be damned if sheâd confess to having feelings for someone who preferred someone else over her).Â
The mention of Benjy stopped that shallow and spiteful train of thought cold. âWere we talking about Benjy?â As she wracked her brain, she realized there was no convenient explanation for how both her and James would know Benjy without the Order. âOh- er, no, definitely not an ex. I hardly know him,â Lily found herself tripping over her words under Clariceâs suddenly intense gaze. âDid you see in the Prophet? The man who got attacked the day of that rally in Carkitt Market? James and I just were both there when they found him, thatâs all. I was just asking if he had any news. I know you probably see things like that all the time, Mr. Auror,â she addressed this to James, trying to lighten the mood again, âbut it was all rather new for me.â All that blood.
@claribaultâ @oh-evansâÂ
James felt something inside that he could only describe as a slight protective rage over Lily when Clarice began to grill her about Benjy. Only to instantly put out that fire when he remembered Clarice was beyond a threat to Lily in any way. She was good. Clearing his throat, he hoped that it didnât show up in his expression and instead brought his attention over to Lily as she talked about the event. Concern quickly etched into his face and he wanted nothing more than to take her hand, comfort her in any possible way.
âYeah,â he remained silent for a moment as he thought. âJust because I see it a lot doesnât make it any better,â he gave Lily a small smile choosing to comfort her through words. âItâs not something you can get out of your mind, so youâre not alone,â he gave her a nod as he turned his attention to Clarice again and then back to Lily. âI donât think I can get in trouble for telling you guys considering I honestly donât have any news to give. I am still an Auror in training, I try to help but Iâm mostly doing desk jobs so the others can focus on everything,â tapping the table with his finger he realized how somber that sounded. âBut in true me fashion, I have been trying to do a bit of digging on my own,â James smirked sitting up straighter.
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âWe have a, errr,â Clarice stumbled as she tried to find a way to word it, âA new line of enquiry Iâd like to pursueâ she licked her lips, steeling her gaze, âAn enquiry that alone could lead to crumps exoneration, before we even have all the facts.â She swallowed thickly, âI need you to understand that if what I know gets out before we know how Crump was involved, it could destroy any future cases we raise against him.â Clarice searched Alastors eyes, âIts his own personal âget out of jail freeâ card.â
âTheres something wrong here. Very wrong.â Clarice knew it, and it seemed Alastor knew it too. The question was, could he be trusted?
claribaultâ:
Clarice pouted, âI was going to ask you the same question.â It figured that nobody had any clue what was going on, everything was so cloak and dagger these days, âI donât normally get involved with these kinds of meetings until much later on,â she sighed, âGuess representing the Ministry has its downfallsâ, she grumbled.
At the mention of vampires, Clarices eyes hardened. âTheyâre not normally the sort of creatures I like to associate withâ she said slowly, words dripping like tar, but then again, talking to her own contacts would be useful, âIâll make sure to ask Griffis if he can talk to his contactsâ the lie slipped off her tongue easily. She breathed deep, âYouâre sure it was a vampire?â, Clarice wondered aloud, after alI, there was no use talking to the vampiresâGeorgineâ if theyâd gotten it wrong, âI mean, people make mistakes,â the Crump case, for example, her mind spat, âDo we have anything solid?â
.
Alastor grumpily folded his arms across his chest as he surveyed the room. The meeting hadnât started but he couldnât wait for it to be over. âYes, weâre sure.â He simply answered, âSt Mungoâs confirmed that the bite was indeed a vampire bite.â He confirmed, although there was something about her words, her language, her insinuation that a mistake had been made that made Alastor raise an eyebrow. âDo you think a mistake has been made? Do you think a mistake was made before?â His tone smooth and neutral. If Clarice Faribault suspected foul play, perhaps the idea that Booker Bagnoldâs death being caused by something else than a werewolf wasnât such a stretch.Â
âAnd why would a vampire attack someone who was leading a march which stood for more rights in their favour? It doesnât make sense.â He grumbled. âBookerâs death, Rosalieâs disappearance, the attack on Benjy. Something is afoot.â || @claribaultâ
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Sputtering, Clarice coughed as she inhaled a leaf, âUgh, sorry.â She laughed, âNo, I wish. I got sorted into Slytherin.â Not that it was much a surprise. Obviously Clarice wasnât brave enough for Gryffiundor, nor smart enough for Ravenclaw. She wasnât even kind enough to be Hufflepuff. âStill, it was fun.â She said, âMet lots of people,â not all of them nice, âAnd I learnt a lot.â She flashed a smile, âHowâd you like it there?â
claribaultâ:
âAh, sorry. I donât normally eat in the cafeteria.â She smirked, nodding her head to the food, âFor obvious reasons.â Clarice smiled awkwardly at the woman. âDepartment of Mysteries huh?â An Unspeakable? She looked at Rowena appraisingly. On first glance, Clarice had her pegged as a sweet girl, fresh faced and new to the work that awaited her. Clearly, that wasnât the case. She was an Unspeakable. âIâm in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, been here for a few years,â She blurted, there were reasons why the Law Enforcement and the Mysteries department tended to stay separate, specifically in the fact the DoM was known to have conducted work in, what could be regarded as, morally grey areas, âA prosecutor.âÂ
Suddenly the salad didnât seem all that unappealing and Clarice was almost at a loss for where she should take the conversation next. Almost. âSoâ she coughed, âYou went to Hogwarts? What house were you in?â She decided on the generic Hogwarts questions, âWaitâŚlet me guess.â Clarice made a show of looking the girl over, from what she could tell, Rowena could have been in any house, but the fact she was an unspeakable meant she had to be smart and ambitious. That meant either Ravenclaw or Slytherin, but Clarice was put into Slytherin once upon a time. She knew the stereotypes associated with that house, and Clarice didnât want to dump her in with Slytherin based solely on what she was. She arched a brow, âRavenclaw?â
âŚ
âMe either,â she admitted, poking at the sad chips in the sad little boat.  âbut Iâm quite happy that we both did today. Itâs always nice to have a cafeteria friend for those days that itâs simply unavoidable.â She nodded at Clariceâs clarification, popping one of the soggy chips into her mouth.  âYes, Iâm an Unspeakable. I donât always lead with that because it sounds a bit more intense than it actually is.â She couldnât talk about her job, sure. But they could have come up with a less dramatic name for it.Â
She raised her brows, impressed by Clariceâs job title.  âWow. I would be a terrible prosecutor, so I can definitely appreciate that skillset in others. Iâll be youâre amazing at it. And itâs such an important job too.â The sad chips and lukewarm soup didnât seem so bad with good conversation.
âI did! I was aâŚâ but she trailed off as Clarice tried to guess.  âClose, I think? Iâd have loved to have been sorted into Ravenclaw, but I was a Hufflepuff. What about you?â She didnât think the girl could have been anything but a Gryffindor, but she wanted to give some thought to it. Perhaps a Ravenclaw as well, but they were close enough in age that she doubted she would have guessed Ravenclaw if that had been her own house.  âMaybe a Gryffindor?â
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âDonât worry about it,â Clarice was grateful the woman had offered to pay for her drink, but really, the only person Clarice had to blame was herself, âIâll buy my own, shoulda looked where I was going anyway,â she joked, though the smile didnât quite reach her eyes. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, turning briefly to look to where sheâd just come from before turning back to the woman, âBut Iâd be happy to walk with you?â She asked despite the fact she wasnât really in the mood for a conversation. After all, Clarice needed to get a new coffee, and saying goodbye before walking into the same cafe could only be awkward. âSince weâre both getting coffees anyway.â
claribaultâ:â
It had been a long and taxing day. Then again, if Clarice were honest, most days seemed long and taxing. But Clarice was a lawyer; she never had the luxury of being honest. She snorted, earning a look of distain from the barista behind the counter, reminding her that as funny as she found herself, not everyone was privy to her inner monologue. A sheepish look appeared on her face as she grimaced, paying the boy and muttering a small apology and turning on her heels. Sheâd made it approximately two foot from the cafe entrance before she collided with something. She scrambled to stay standing. Her awkward footfalls and stumbling forcing an apology to come tumbling out of her mouth, as she watched her cup clatter to the floor. She sighed as the something sheâd walked into murmured her own apology, âNo, no, itâs my fault, I was-â she was what? Clumsy? An idiot? Incredibly thirsty? She looked forlornly to where the cup had fallen on the ground, âItâs just one of those days.â
â
Alecto was usually more aware of her surroundings. That had both come from her days of creating chaos, and liking to know what was going on around her, and from more recently with her bartending. It helped to have skills that included knowing everything that was going on around her. But right now, those skills were not helping. She frowned, watching as the other womanâs cup fell to fall. In another world she might have been better at magic, and might have been able to help. But sadly, she was not, and that was not good.
âIâŚuhâŚ.. sorry about your drinkâŚ.â She murmured, as she looked up at the other woman. That was sad. âI can relateâŚ.â She really did have days like that too. âIâm heading in to get something for myself⌠I can get you another?â
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Clariceâs eyes snapped to James as his foot nudged hers, the kid was giving her a meaningful look as though that meant anything, but that wasnât really what she was interested in at that moment in time. She was more concerned with the introduction of Jamesâ friends; the lack of âBenjyâ being included in the list. âWhat about Benjy?â The words tumbled from her mouth, as she looked from James to Lily âI heard you guys talking about him on the way over, isnât he also one of your friends?â It probably wasnât even the same Benjy. Surely there were many people who went by that name, maybe they meant a different one, but then again, Clarice had never believed in coincidences. âOr is he more your friend?â She focussed predatorily in on Lily like she was someone she needed to interrogate, âMaybe an ex?â She arched a brow, watching for the girls reaction.
oh-evansâ:
@claribaultâ @jamspctterâ
âIâm sorry?â Lilyâs eyebrows flew up at what she thought she heard the other woman say before she corrected herself. âOh- er- of course. Retirement is just so important to start thinking about at our age, always good to stay on top of your finances.â Clariceâs rambling had caught, and now Lily was tripping over her own words.Â
Dandy? Sure, she guessed. âJames is a great guy.â She meant that. âHeâsâŚ. so smart, and fun to be around, and kind, and brave. Heâll always have your back, and heâll always be there for you. You got pretty lucky with that one- but donât tell him I said that, itâll go right to his head,â she snorted. Was that too much to say to his girlfriend?
She was lucky she wasnât drinking anything- she would have spat it out. Suddenly what she had taken as awkwardness started to seem (through her lens of paranoia) like purposeful coldness- did Clarice know? Had James told her about whatever had happened between them (not much, of course, but it just seemed wrong that he would tell Clarice about it, like a final ending, like the decision was no longer in her hands). She also suppressed a little indignation that the story was she rejected him. âOh wow. That sounds awful.â It looked like Clarice had a poker face on, so Lily wouldnât drop hers. âSounds like you two met at just the right time.â Taking a deep exhale, she recentered her aggression- it was no oneâs fault but hers. And if she had missed her window of opportunity to to feel out whatever could have been with them, at least the two of them were making each other happy. âI really am so happy for you.â She didnât know what Clarice knew, and it wasnât her place to tell her, but she wouldnât be an obstacle to Jamesâ happiness any longer. So she pushed all the negative emotion down and mustered all her sincerity and went ahead full throttle with Mission Welcome-Clarice. âHave you met Remus and Peter and Sirius yet? Iâm sure you will soon if you havenât, the four of them are pretty much attached at the hip.âÂ
@oh-evans @claribaultâ
James had taken a while longer to come back to the table, both because he couldnât bear the embarrassment he held and because he had written some kind of secretive note on a napkin in the scone he bought Lily. Coordinates with a time accompanied by a quick, almost illegible scrawl of his initials J.P. Taking a deep breath he finally got his bearings together and figured he shouldnât just leave Clarice by herself anymore and walked straight over to their table. As Lily talked he secretly slipped the scone into her bag and swooped down beside Clarice catching the tail end of the conversation.
âNo,â James thought quickly of a better way to put it. âI told her I only really introduce my other significant others to people I really care about,â he looked at Lily quickly, enough to really push that point across. James then looked over to Clarice. âI did the thing â you know place and time, made a reservation,â he didnât want to give it away to Lily, but nudged Clariceâs foot â or hoped it was hers â hoping she understood what he meant.
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Her eyes widened comically as the woman spoke. She probably, definitely should have kept the glasses on. âShe and I arenât on speaking terms at the moment.â She spoke, voice shaking slightly, âBut I do need to talk to her, sheââ Clarice paused, taking in a deep breath, there were two ways this could go. She could tell her nothing. Storm out of here the same way she came in without another word. Or, she could tell her the truth. That there was a vampire out there. That, that vampire had attacked a boy leaving him in hospital. That Georgina knew everything about any vampire in the city because she was one and may even be involved in the caseâ but that was a bridge Clarice would cross when she came to it. âHow much do you know about Georgina?â
claribaultâ:
Oh, so this was how the she was going to play it, Clarice lent against Georginaâs desk, pulling her glasses off, âFine,â she glared, flashing her card quickly so the woman wouldnât be able to read the name properly, âIâm from the DMLEâ she pocketed the card, she did not need anyone to know she was a Faribault, âIâve got reason to believe,â that reason being of the sharp and pointy teeth variety, âThat Georgina has information I needâ
The girl remained impassive, and Clarice was tempted to give her more information. To explain that neither her nor Georgina were in trouble, but this was a sensitive case. If word got out that Clarice went to Georgine and people connected the dots, it would only take a few misplaced rumours and unfortunate circumstances to thrust the sisters into the spotlight. Something Clarice had avoided for years. âNow, tell me where she is,â She spoke, her voice laced with sweet venom, âOr find me someone who can.âÂ
.
The speed with which she flashed her card told Constance so much. The woman didnât want her to know her name. It was an official Ministry card, at least. Whether it belonged to the woman before her or not was another matter entirely. Blind faith that someone was telling her the truth had never sit well with her so Constance weighed her options: she could ask to see her card up close to confirm her identity, play along with the ruse until she knew why she was here, orâ It hit her then. Recognition. There was one photo Georgina used to have on her desk that Constance had seen hundreds of times, studied even, during long meetings. She was much younger in the photos but the resemblance was too strong to deny.Â
âWhat information are you looking for, exactly?â She asked, holding the power of her realization to herself for a moment longer. âI donât keep tabs on Georgina, unfortunately. Sheâs my boss so itâs more the other way around for pretty much everyone here right now.â She tilted her head back toward the door to indicate the premises as a whole. âIâd think her sister would know better than her employees, no?â She asked the question with a saccharine tone, hoping sheâd caught her off guard.
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Clarice scrunched her nose up nodding. Obviously those two were fighting all the time, Clarice had only just gotten there and even she could feel it, âSexual tension?â She hedged, catching the look of shock, maybe bemusement, on Lilys face, âFlexible pension, I said.â she corrected herself, and what? How in the name of Merlin was she going to make that sound like a normal thing to say, âItâs always good to make sure you have oneâ stop talking, âNot that youâre old enough to start worrying about that,â she took a long sip of her coffeeâŚWell, Clarice handled that perfectly.
âSo James, The Dateâ she smiled, âYeah those types of setups never normally work, but James is justâ Clarice fumbled for words, trying to think what would make her feel jealous of someone, âDandy?â
âŚ
Sometimes she hated herself.
Taking a deep breath, Clarice flicked the switch, back to her cool and calm composure, âI mean, heâs stunning, intelligent...funnyâ she tried again, trying to remind herself she was meant to make him look good âIâd just come out of a serious relationship, heâd just been rejected by the girl of his dreams,â she sighed wistfully, resisting the urge to look at Lilys face âSo we thought, hey, lets give it a go, and what do you know-â Clariceâs grin was all teeth as she finally met Lilys eyes, âHeâs just too good a catch.â
claribaultâ:
jamspctterâ:
@oh-evans @claribaultâ
James was ready to answer both of Lilyâs questions when Clarice had shown up â and kissed him â and he had instantly forgotten absolutely everything he was going to say. He had mindlessly taken the coffee handed to him and tried to compose himself to the best of his ability. It wasnât like he could tell Clarice to bugger off, or break off their fake relationship. She told him to trust the process and that was what James was going to do â trust the process. Taking a deep breath he shook his head figuring right now wasnât the best time to tell Lily about Benjy but bookmarking that for later.
Itâs all fake. This is all a ploy for me to figure out if you like me back or not. Because Clarice thinks so, so we came up with this insane plan. Is what James wanted to say. Merlins beard, and the look Lily gave him that he could clearly read as he was used to the looks she had given him after all these years. She could shake her head at him and James would crumple, do what ever it is she wanted him to do â which is something the Marauders made of him for a lot of the time.
âI um â itâs something new, clearly. Adairia she um â yeah,â James lamely smiled watching Lily closely and knowing just how much Clarice was judging him for how he answered. Pushing his glasses nervously, James soon realized he wouldnât be able to keep this up for much longer. âI was avoiding you Lily but not because of this,â James pointed at Clarice and noticed how that came across.
Wow, great work James. Admit to the girl you love youâve been avoiding her, thatâll go down a treat. Clarice gave a swift kick to hire back of Jamesâ shins, hoping the pain would get the message across, that he was a complete and utter moron. âWhat he means to say, is we were about to get lunch, you should join us.â She said, gripping the girls hand and pulling her towards an empty table. Sure, Clarice was going off script here, but with James not playing ball, it seemed she was going to enjoy taking this into her own hands. Besides, Clarice had a few of her own questions.
âJames, sweetheart,â she emphasised, âWhy donât you go grab us some food?â They really should have come up with signals for this. What was âgo away so I can make you look good without making this awkwardâ in sign language? OrâŚwell, Clarice glanced at Lilys still carefully blank face, more awkward. âSo Lily, you and James have known each other for what? A decade now?â
@claribaultâ @jamspctterâ
âOh. Well. Congratulations,â she offered weakly. âTo both of you.â Merlin, she wanted nothing more than to come up with some kind of excuse and get out, but she couldnât be that transparent. âI never thought people actually got together from those set ups. Maybe I should talk to Adaira too,â she smiled, but it didnât reach her eyes.
She didnât at least deserve a heads-up? Maybe she was right the whole time- it was all a joke to him, a sick drunken joke, and he hadnât thought twice about taking up with someone new so soon after she said sheâd think about it- she had told him sheâd think about it, right? That she just needed time? Guess that time had run out. Or maybe, just maybe- sheâd thought James would just always be around and hadnât felt any urgency to figure out what she wanted from him. âOh, Iâm really so swamped, and I wouldnât want to be a third wheel,â she protested weakly yet allowed Clarice to lead her away. Sweetheart? She could gag. âEr, I guess. Makes me feel old when you put it like that. We actually used to fight all the time. Us being friends is still rather new,â she snorted.
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âAh, sorry. I donât normally eat in the cafeteria.â She smirked, nodding her head to the food, âFor obvious reasons.â Clarice smiled awkwardly at the woman. âDepartment of Mysteries huh?â An Unspeakable? She looked at Rowena appraisingly. On first glance, Clarice had her pegged as a sweet girl, fresh faced and new to the work that awaited her. Clearly, that wasnât the case. She was an Unspeakable. âIâm in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, been here for a few years,â She blurted, there were reasons why the Law Enforcement and the Mysteries department tended to stay separate, specifically in the fact the DoM was known to have conducted work in, what could be regarded as, morally grey areas, âA prosecutor.âÂ
Suddenly the salad didnât seem all that unappealing and Clarice was almost at a loss for where she should take the conversation next. Almost. âSoâ she coughed, âYou went to Hogwarts? What house were you in?â She decided on the generic Hogwarts questions, âWaitâŚlet me guess.â Clarice made a show of looking the girl over, from what she could tell, Rowena could have been in any house, but the fact she was an unspeakable meant she had to be smart and ambitious. That meant either Ravenclaw or Slytherin, but Clarice was put into Slytherin once upon a time. She knew the stereotypes associated with that house, and Clarice didnât want to dump her in with Slytherin based solely on what she was. She arched a brow, âRavenclaw?â
claribaultâ:
Clarice followed Rowenaâs head tilt, âHuhâŚâ The man was glaring at his sandwich as though it had mortally offended him, although to be fair, quality of the food in the cafeteria, it probably had. She smiled at the girl, âIâll make sure to try the soup, canât be worse than this.â Clarice pouted. She contemplated just going back to her food, ignoring her surroundings before she can get back to the safety of her office. But since the incident with her sister, sheâd been finding it difficult to get back into the swing of things. âSo,â Clarice dropped her fork into the salad bowl, she could always pick something up on the way home.Â
âYouâre new?â She asked, studying Rowenaâs face, Clarice was sure sheâd talked to this woman before, but then again, Clarice had only ever spoken to those in her department. The only place the entirety of the building would ever congregate in one room was in the cafeteria at lunchtime, which wasnât Clariceâs usual haunt. Just something sheâd resorted to in trying to keep to her âvegetarianâ diet, âOr better question,â she amended, âWhat department are you in?â
âŚ
The longer she practiced legilimancy the more interesting she found it. It would be easy, to nonverbally cast the spell, to look into his mind, but why would she? Negative energy and mediocrity practically radiated from him, and she highly doubted it started and ended with the sad looking chicken sandwich in his hands. She didnât need to immerse herself in that. âIâm sure heâs perfectly lovely, but he seems very focused on his food. I thought you seemed like a better lunch companion, if Iâm being honest.â
She was not new, but it didnât surprise her that Clarice didnât recognize her. She didnât often eat in the cafeteria, but rather took her picks back down into her office or outside. There was far too much she couldnât talk about at work, and it was easier to just sit with her own thoughts for a bit after spending a morning investigating the thoughts of others.  âIâm in the Department of Mysteries.â She was glad that she phrased it that way. The term Unspeakable was so intimidating.  âIâm not new, but I havenât been around all that long either. Iâm not surprised you donât recognize me. What about you?â
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It had been a long and taxing day. Then again, if Clarice were honest, most days seemed long and taxing. But Clarice was a lawyer; she never had the luxury of being honest. She snorted, earning a look of distain from the barista behind the counter, reminding her that as funny as she found herself, not everyone was privy to her inner monologue. A sheepish look appeared on her face as she grimaced, paying the boy and muttering a small apology and turning on her heels. Sheâd made it approximately two foot from the cafe entrance before she collided with something. She scrambled to stay standing. Her awkward footfalls and stumbling forcing an apology to come tumbling out of her mouth, as she watched her cup clatter to the floor. She sighed as the something sheâd walked into murmured her own apology, âNo, no, itâs my fault, I was-â she was what? Clumsy? An idiot? Incredibly thirsty? She looked forlornly to where the cup had fallen on the ground, âItâs just one of those days.â
It was rare Alecto had a day off. She tried to work as many shifts as she could because she needed the money. Alecto knew that if she got as much money as she could, then sheâd be closer to getting her own place. She hadnât looked into prices yet, but she just wanted to order a good amount of money. But, she did need some days off occasionally, and so today had been one. She hadnât got much planned, but she was taking a stroll down Diagon Alley. It seemed things had calmed down since that stupid march, and it made her happy.Â
She probably should have been paying attention to where she was going, but before she really realised it, she had bumped into someone. âOh. Sorry!â The murmured, a smile on her lips. âDaydreaming away. Sorry about thatâ
@claribaultâ
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Oh, so this was how the she was going to play it, Clarice lent against Georginaâs desk, pulling her glasses off, âFine,â she glared, flashing her card quickly so the woman wouldnât be able to read the name properly, âIâm from the DMLEâ she pocketed the card, she did not need anyone to know she was a Faribault, âIâve got reason to believe,â that reason being of the sharp and pointy teeth variety, âThat Georgina has information I needâ
The girl remained impassive, and Clarice was tempted to give her more information. To explain that neither her nor Georgina were in trouble, but this was a sensitive case. If word got out that Clarice went to Georgine and people connected the dots, it would only take a few misplaced rumours and unfortunate circumstances to thrust the sisters into the spotlight. Something Clarice had avoided for years. âNow, tell me where she is,â She spoke, her voice laced with sweet venom, âOr find me someone who can.âÂ
claribaultâ:
Affronted, she hissed, âThatâs my business,â five seconds into the conversation and this girl was already getting on her nerves, she pinched the bridge of her nose underneath her sunglasses, âAlright.â She breathed, looking around the room. The staff had turned their bodies towards the pair, looking as though they were preparing themselves to intervene if the need should arise. Damnit. Well done Clarice, she scolded herself, how could she be so stupid? This is hardly the first time a man or woman scorned would have come into a place like this. It was only a moment in time before someone got security involved, and more importantly, only a matter of time before someone recognised her.Â
She turned back to the girl, âAlright, you.â Clarice jabbed a finger into the womanâs arm, âYouâre going to come with me, and then youâre going to tell me where the hell Georgina is.â She turned on her heels, marching back into her sisters office. This was bad. The first time Clarice actually needs to talk to her sister after the incident and sheâs not even here. Over her shoulder, she couldnât see if the woman was following her. Whatever. It didnât matter, either she followed, or Clarice would have to get her information the old fashioned way.
.
Constanceâs eyes went wide once more but in an expression that now read as more yikes than anything else. What was this womanâs problem? And why did she look so familiar? The simplest explanation was that she was the wife of a client or a client herself, even. She was unhappy with her service for some reason, maybe? Still, she was marching around like she owned the place, helping herself to Georginaâs office and all. She knew if the woman tried anything dangerous sheâd have allies behind her if she couldnât defend herself for some reason. The energy she was giving off wasnât that of someone who wanted to bring her any harm, though. Maybe that was why she decided to follow her to the office.Â
A friend stopped her before she got to the door to make sure she knew what she was doing but Constance waved them off. There was no need to make something out of nothing and right now this was nothing. Once the office door was closed behind her, Constance met the womanâs eyes. âAre you going to tell me whatâs going on? Your reasons are your business but I can keep my information to myself for my own reasons, too.â Constance didnât know what was going on or what information she actually had but it never hurt to play up your hand.Â
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Affronted, she hissed, âThatâs my business,â five seconds into the conversation and this girl was already getting on her nerves, she pinched the bridge of her nose underneath her sunglasses, âAlright.â She breathed, looking around the room. The staff had turned their bodies towards the pair, looking as though they were preparing themselves to intervene if the need should arise. Damnit. Well done Clarice, she scolded herself, how could she be so stupid? This is hardly the first time a man or woman scorned would have come into a place like this. It was only a moment in time before someone got security involved, and more importantly, only a matter of time before someone recognised her.Â
She turned back to the girl, âAlright, you.â Clarice jabbed a finger into the womanâs arm, âYouâre going to come with me, and then youâre going to tell me where the hell Georgina is.â She turned on her heels, marching back into her sisters office. This was bad. The first time Clarice actually needs to talk to her sister after the incident and sheâs not even here. Over her shoulder, she couldnât see if the woman was following her. Whatever. It didnât matter, either she followed, or Clarice would have to get her information the old fashioned way.
claribaultâ:
Where: Fair Faribaults
Who: @constance-song
A boy was lying. Cold and still in a hospital bed. An oxygen mask acting as that thin line between life and death. The Doctors were desperately trying to keep him breathing because even though heâs stable right now theres nothing they can do.
Alright. Maybe Clarice was being dramatic, but that didnât mean it wasnât true. There was a boy in hospital. Benjy Fenwick, just some kid that had gotten on the wrong side of a vampire and while she wasnât as involved in that side of things anymore, she still had contacts. Sort of.
The door slammed shut behind her as she stormed her way though the lobby of Fair Faribaults, ignoring the sideways glances of both the staff and the patrons. âGeorgina?â She hissed, slamming open the door of her sisters office, but it was empty, âGeorge!â Fuck. Where the hell was she? Clarice made a u-turn, hightailing it out of Georginas office, tapping on the shoulder of the first person she saw, âHey!â She growled, âWhereâs Georgine?â
Constance was so used to seeing unfamiliar faces in Fair Faribaultâs that she rarely paid much attention to the faces around her. She took note of them, of course. She wouldnât let someone she knew had bad intentions simply run amok in the walls of her work but if they didnât seem to pose a threat she simply let them go about their business without her prying eyes.Â
The woman storming through the doors and slamming doors hadnât looked threatening when sheâd walked past her at first but clearly that first impression had been deceiving. Her eyes lost focus as she avoided looking at the woman head-on but made sure her figure was still in in her periphery. When the tap on her shoulder came, Constance looked up as though sheâd just noticed her and hadnât been keeping tabs on her from the moment she walked inside.Â
âWhoa,â Constance took a small step back and held her palms out to stop the woman from advancing on her. She looked familiar but Constance couldnât put her finger on why that was. It didnât matter, she didnât like being addressed so crudely regardless of who was addressing her. âTake it down a notch, maybe? I havenât seen her in today, why do you need her?â
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Marmite the Cat
At the age of 23, Clarice found herself alone in her apartment that she had recently bought with her boyfriend. Clarice was reading, some boring book, filled with information she would never remember nor would she need to after the exam. Sheâd tried to make the room as comfortable as possible. Her window was open, letting a cool breeze into the sweltering heat of the room, sheâd gone and grabbed herself some marmite on toast before sheâd sat down, knowing that would be her first excuse to stop working. Clarice took a bite of her toast, chewing slowly as she stared blankly at her book. This was beginning to get painful.
The pages were blurring together, paragraph, upon paragraph, written in the smallest text as though to save on paper. Not that this space saving technique seemed to have done any good. The tome was large. Heavy enough she couldn't curl up with it on the sofa as she normally would. Instead, opting to sit on the floor, back resting against the sofa, with the book carefully balanced on the edge of the far-too-low coffee table. Sure, it was uncomfortable, and she had to lean across the table to reach her food, but it meant she could keep feeling her legs. It was doable. Just about comfortable enough to get some work done.
Or at least it would have been if Clarice hadnât been staring at the same page for what seemed like a lifetime.
At this point, Clarice was seriously contemplating turning the page. Maybe, if she did that, it would at least feel as though sheâd made progress. She hadn't. But that wasnât the point. She shoved the book fully into the table, groaning as she rubbed her aching eyes. She shoved a mouthful of toast in her mouth before standing. She wasn't giving up, Clarice told herself, she was just taking a well deserved break as she padded her way to the kitchen.
By the time Clarice came back, now holding a cool glass of water in one hand and a coaster, because Richard hated water rings, in the other, sheâd realised something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She stared into the room disbelievingly. Everything was as she left it. The window still open, her book lying uselessly on the coffee table, her toast lying on the far endâ her toast that was currently being licked by a mangled and matted animal that had sat next to it, head tilted awkwardly as it had its fill. She cursed under her breath, looking for something to defend herself with. From past experience, Clarice hadnât the best history with animals, but there was nothing, âGo awayâ she shooed the cat lamely, but the cat ignored her. Still licking happily at the toast, âMerlin, do cats even like marmite?" She glared at the cat, fiddling with the coaster in her hand. Sure she didnât want to hurt the bugger, but she definitely did not want it in her home. Testing the weight of the coaster in her hands, after all, she didnât really want to hurt it, Clarice gently threw the coaster onto the table, hoping the sound would scare it away.
It didnât.
The cat gave the coaster a cursory glance, flicking its gaze towards Clarice, then returning to its food. Clarice gritted her teeth, but the cat remained seemingly oblivious, or simply uncaring of Clariceâs predicament. Didnât the cat realise the danger it was in? Clarice liked to think of herself as a nice person but she was still a vampire. She could eat him alive if she wanted to. Most other animals seemed to sense this, immediately pegging the girl as a threat and acting accordingly. This cat however, this mangled, disgusting bastard, wasnât taking it seriously.
Clarice scowled. Whatever. The toast was ruined anyway. There was no way she was eating that now, and there was apparently no way the cat was going to leave before theyâd finished it. Clarice positioned herself back on the floor in front of her book. Watching the cat carefully for any sudden movement. Sheâd tried to ignore it, sparing only cursory glances at the cat to make sure it hadnât moved any closer to her as she read her book. For a while, it had worked. The cat had been happily chewing the toast, and Clarice had almost forgotten it was even there. Then the cat got bored. With the marmite having been cleanly licked off the toast, the cat started making its way over to Clarice, making her freeze in anticipation. The cat stumbled towards her, its legs awkwardly splayed out as he slipped on the smooth surface of the table.
From this close, the cat seemed to look even worse for wear, if that was even possible. Its bones were jutting out at awkward angles, making his head tilt. Its teeth were starkly visible through a cleft palate with ribs prominent even under the layers of thick tortoiseshell fur, âMerlin, you are a mess arenât you?â She sighed, watching the cat practically dragging its way over Clariceâs book to get to her glass âYou want my water?â Like you wanted my toast, she didnât add, assuming the cat could at least perceive that in her tone, âAlright, fine.â she grumbled, moving the glass closer to the cat, rolling her eyes when the cat took that as permission to sit on her books while it drank. Whatever, Clarice lent back against the sofa. She was bored of studying anyway.
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Where: Fair Faribaults
Who: @constance-song
A boy was lying. Cold and still in a hospital bed. An oxygen mask acting as that thin line between life and death. The Doctors were desperately trying to keep him breathing because even though heâs stable right now theres nothing they can do.
Alright. Maybe Clarice was being dramatic, but that didnât mean it wasnât true. There was a boy in hospital. Benjy Fenwick, just some kid that had gotten on the wrong side of a vampire and while she wasnât as involved in that side of things anymore, she still had contacts. Sort of.
The door slammed shut behind her as she stormed her way though the lobby of Fair Faribaults, ignoring the sideways glances of both the staff and the patrons. âGeorgina?â She hissed, slamming open the door of her sisters office, but it was empty, âGeorge!â Fuck. Where the hell was she? Clarice made a u-turn, hightailing it out of Georginas office, tapping on the shoulder of the first person she saw, âHey!â She growled, âWhereâs Georgine?â
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Clarice followed Rowenaâs head tilt, âHuhâŚâ The man was glaring at his sandwich as though it had mortally offended him, although to be fair, quality of the food in the cafeteria, it probably had. She smiled at the girl, âIâll make sure to try the soup, canât be worse than this.â Clarice pouted. She contemplated just going back to her food, ignoring her surroundings before she can get back to the safety of her office. But since the incident with her sister, sheâd been finding it difficult to get back into the swing of things. âSo,â Clarice dropped her fork into the salad bowl, she could always pick something up on the way home.Â
âYouâre new?â She asked, studying Rowenaâs face, Clarice was sure sheâd talked to this woman before, but then again, Clarice had only ever spoken to those in her department. The only place the entirety of the building would ever congregate in one room was in the cafeteria at lunchtime, which wasnât Clariceâs usual haunt. Just something sheâd resorted to in trying to keep to her âvegetarianâ diet, âOr better question,â she amended, âWhat department are you in?â
claribaultâ:
Clarice tucked into her generously-so-called âmealâ, plate filled with wilted leaves, wet vegetables and a rather sad looking lot of tomatoes. She was almost tempted to leave it; wait until she got home to make herself something that at least resembled food, but then sheâd be hungryâ or at least more hungry than she was used to these days. Slowly, she gingerly shovelled another bite into her mouth, grimacing when the salad seemed to dissolve in her mouth. Clarice swallowed as a woman approached, it was someone who sheâd seen around the Ministry on occasion, but not someone who she herself had ever spoken to.
She found herself smiling in response, the womanâs smile was infectious, âSure,â she nodded towards the other seat, âBe my guestâ then, as the woman took her seat, âIâm Clarice,â she greeted, taking another forkful of her food.
âŚ
She bit back a laugh at the look on the other womanâs face, understanding the displeasure.  âIt makes you miss Hogwarts, doesnât it? Itâs only place Iâve ever been fully satisfied in a cafeteria type setting. More often itâs wilted and disappointing.â She put her tray in front of her, unwrapping the napkin that bundled her utensils.  âThe soup is usually inoffensive enough. If the vegetables are wilted itâs a bit harder to tell when theyâre drowning in cream.â
She dipped the soup and took a quick bite before offering her own name.  âIâm Rowena.â She didnât immediately offer her surname. She was working on building connections on all sides of this war. You never knew when someone could be a fountain of information or a potential recruit.  âThanks for letting me sit with you. You were a bit less than my other option,â she gestured with her head to the grumpy look bloke in the corner.
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