Alexis Eversly

Nou, toen leek het plots allemaal weer een stukje beter. Haar moeder hield haar gezicht vast, gaf haar een kus op haar wang en terwijl ze haar naar de voordeur begeleidde bleef ze maar doorhameren dat Sascha zich niet meer moest laten verleiden, dat hij een knappe man was maar dat alle mannen gedreven werden door één ding en dat ze nu al een jaar samen waren en het dus toch wel tijd werd. Als hij serieus was. En dat ze ook een beetje op haar figuur moest letten als ze wilde dat hij bleef. Glimlachend als een boer met kiespijn sloot ze uiteindelijk de deur achter haar, nadat ze nog twintig keer "Ja ja, dag dag, ja dag he?" aanhoorde.
 
"Oh...my word." Zuchtte Sascha tegen de deur, voor ze terug naar Neptunus keek. "Dat... dat was... Beschamend. Dat ze zomaar binnen komt stormen en... met haar vingertje?" Het zou haast grappig zijn als ze niet zo geschrokken was. 

"Sure. It is different without Ari here." She didn't feel as much need to impress her friend, to take good care of her and make sure she was having a good time. She still did that with Fiore of course, but she trusted Fiore to not wander off, and Ari was just slightly more exciting to hang out with, though she'd never say it to Fiore's face. Ari's smile lit up the room, and her clumsiness was rather adorable. It always made Pen feel happy she was her friend. She was also happy with Ari, but it was different. She felt Ari was cool, an ally, someone she could rely on. 
 
"You two should do my cards and crystals again, though. I feel like I need some luck, find a guy. It's been long enough now." She was going to be old, soon. Even if she did not truly believe in that crystal stuff, Ari and Fi did and that was enough. Besides, they'd get to spend time again with their best friend.

Fi grinned, carefully draping the dress over her arm so she could peruse some more dresses, before she'd go for a fitting. She hummed as both her and Pen made their way through the store, looking at dresses, contemplating them before ultimately deciding it was not the dress, before Pen opened her mouth again.
 
'I mean, not that often?' Pen frowned. 'It's different without you, yes, but I assume it's also different if you and Ari hang out without me?' Dynamics changed after all, and it wasn't like they all had the same classes, or were paired together in every one of them. Pen was, after all, in a more advanced piano class than she was. 'Just like it's different not having Ari here with us?' She was, after all, convinced that Ari and Pen would also hang out without her. Wasn't that normal?

Oh, Fi thought she was sure she knew what Ari did or did not have. Cool, cool. They'd been spending lots of time together, then. Without Penelope. That was fine. Cool. No big deal. It was fine.
 
Time to focus on shopping, instead of the things that were bothering her. "You should." She smiled charmingly, acting like nothing was the matter. The dress did look good, and Fi seemed very keen on it too. Penelope always had an eye for fashion, and for the fashion her friends would like. "It would be easier, yes." But Pen was rather picky. She always wanted that dress that locked eyes with her from across the room, and flirted with her until she put it on, then made her fall in love. A high bar, but a necessary one. A good dress gave a confidence boost. 
 
She she walked through the store, eyeing all the fabrics and patterns, but none caught her eye yet. 
 
"So, you and Ari. Do you two often meet up without me? How dreadfully boring it must be without me!" She smiled, passing it off as a joke. 

“Natuurlijk wil ik helpen”, zei ze vlug, want ze begon het idee te hebben dat dat was wat ze moest zeggen. Als haar broer, welke het dan ook moge zijn, ziek was en haar vader leek oprecht te geloven dat zíj iets kon doen, dan moest ze toch wel ja zeggen? Wanhopige mensen moest je zorg bieden, vond ze, zorg en het sprankeltje hoop dat ze misten. Hoe ze dat ging doen, dat was nog iets anders, maar ze moest op zijn minst proberen, toch? “Wat kan ik doen?”
 
Het zou gewoon zo fijn zijn als ze het idee had dat ze ook effectief iets kon doen, in plaats van dat ze opgetrommeld werd om de deus ex machina uit te hangen. Ze kende weinig van geneeskunde, had haar broers hier nog nooit ontmoet, bezat geen enkel nuttig talent wat het helen van ernstig zieke broers betrof, en toch, toch was haar vader hier. Een schuldig deel van haar begon zich af te vragen of het wel zo goed was geweest om te bidden dat ze haar familie vaker mocht zien.

Trouwen niet aan de orde? Maar dat waren ze uiteindelijk wel van plan, toch? Althans, dat was het einddoel voor Sascha. Ze waren inmiddels meer dan een jaar samen en ergens begon het in de verte voor haar een beetje te kriebelen. Ze was vrij zeker dat hij de man voor haar was, omdat ze zo goed met elkaar waren. Maar hij bedoelde het vast niet zo, wilde dat vast wel. Het was iets om een gesprek over te hebben, maar niet nu haar moeder zo deed. "Niet aan de orde?" Zei haar moeder gepikeerd en Sascha raakte het ondertussen ook redelijk beu. Ze had geen recht om hier binnen te stormen, als ze dat wilde ging ze wel weer thuis wonen!
 
"Mam! Het is klaar!" Zei Sascha pertinent en ze pakte haar moeder's pols vast zodat ze niet meer met die priemende vinger naar Neptunus kon steken. "Ik weet niet waar je vandaan hebt dat ik... Maar het is niet zo en je moet nu ophouden." Beet ze haar redelijk bits toe, waar haar moeder op reageerde door te kijken of ze een dreuzel zag vliegen. "Je moet nu ophouden." Herhaalde ze, ook wat streng want hallo, straks dacht Neptunus nog. Zo'n gekke familie, dat zie ik niet zitten, ajuu.
 
En het leek te werken want haar moeder keek even van Sascha naar Neptunus en terug voor ze een diepe zucht laatte. Zo. "Ik wil gewoon niet dat je foute beslissingen maakt, lieverd." Zei haar moeder voor ze haar omhelsde en Sascha zou willen dat ze Neptunus kon zien vanuit die hoek om haar ongenoegen te tonen. Haar moeder keek op haar beurt Neptunus vuil aan, en gebaarde 'I have my eyes on you'. Helaas had Sascha dat niet echt door.
 
De Baker koppigheid zorgde ervoor dat mevrouw Baker niet ophield, de sluwheid zorgde ervoor dat haar dochter er niets van merkte. Vooralsnog niet, nochtans.

'Hmm. True, true, and after all that news she's probably lucky someone took pity on her. Oh well, leaves the better ones for us, really.' At least they wouldn't have to worry as much as others, and it left the better ones for themselves. They'd probably have the pick of anyone they wanted, and wasn't that a nice idea?
 
'She does!' Fiore said happily. 'I'm pretty sure I know what she does and doesn't have yet, for the most part anyway, so we might be able to get her something she doesn't have yet. I'm sure that'll make her happy!' And, well, Choice was a good brand, even if some didn't seem to appreciate it at all the way they should, Mina.
 
'Ooh, that is gorgeous,' Fiore said, holding the dress to her. 'I should do a fitting with this, shouldn't I?' She twirled around a bit, to see how the fabric moved and how the light hit it even if she was not yet wearing it. 'But we should find you a dress, too, maybe more than one, and then do the fitting all in one go. That'd be easier, wouldn't it?' 

Ze was best trots op Neptunus, die haar moeder goed te woord stond. En hij had gelijk. Hij behandelde haar goed, hield van haar, was de beste vriend die ze ooit wensen kon. En hij forceerde niets, nam alles op haar tempo. En hij was van haar. Zo'n knappe, lieve en warme man. Ze had het goed gevonden, maar ze hoopte maar dat haar moeder's gedrag geen roet in het eten zou gooien. "Waar komt dit zo plots vandaan?" Vroeg ze en kwam bij de twee staan om Neptunus wat bevestiging toe te steken.
 
Maar haar moeder leek daar niet op te willen reageren, leek er zo van overtuigd dat zij en Neptunus relaties gehad hadden. "Dus je gaat met haar trouwen? Want dat is wat een degelijke behandeling zijn nadat je haar... Ontbloemd hebt!" Sascha sloeg beschaamd haar vrije hand voor haar ogen want deze vertoning van haar mama was echt superbeschaamtelijk. "Mama, ik zeg het toch, we hebben niks gedaan!" Zei ze terwijl ze schuldig naar Neptunus keek, haar wangen rood.
 
Een blik die vertelde, Jesus, I am so sorry.

"Probably a bit of both." She laughed. Of course she was a bit miffed Empress got to be married first, but she couldn't let it press on her too much. It wasn't worth getting ugly wrinkles over. "You know, the real diamonds only show up after the dirt has been dug out. You'll be fine, Fi. You're pretty and sweet. Empress just got out the dirt for us, such a good girl." She said, linking her arm into her friend's.
 
"Exactly." A few new dresses and the papers could write about them again, but them back in the spotlight. Pen didn't really think about the implications those exact papers could note if she wore dresses made from the abuser of her cousin. Oh well. She wasn't a particularly smart teenager. 
 
When Fiore talked about their other friend Pen couldn't help but feel left out herself. "I mean, fine." She said, smiling shortly, trying not to let her friend know she irked her. "I'll get her a nice perfume. She loves those mysterious incense scents, right? They are sure to have some of those at Choice." 
 
That's when her eyes caught onto a dress in the shop and she gasped, pulled it off the rack and almost slammed it against her friend's shoulder. "That dress is dastardly gorgeous, totally screams Fiore. Doesn't it?" She always had an eye for clothes.

'I mean, obviously,' Fiore agreed. 'Still, I wonder if I wonder if I should pity her husband because of who he married, or wonder what the hell she did to land a husband in the first place, especially before any of us?' If she was completely honest, Fiore absolutely expected Pen or Ari to get married before her, but that was also because they were just so much prettier than she was, and then for Empress, of all people, to get married? It was baffling.
'Though it's great that we won't need to deal with her at school anymore.' That was something, at least. At least it meant permanently now, for Fi had always thought Empress'd find herself back in school eventually, despite the scandal.
 
'Oh, absolutely,' Fi said. 'We can't be seen in last seasons clothes, after all. We've got a reputation to maintain. Imagine the articles!' They were after all rich enough to get mentioned at times, and especially with important family like they had, it was necessary they make a good impression, lest it end up unfavourable for their own families. No, that wouldn't do.
'Maybe just a few at first, though,' Fi hummed. 'It'll be good to have a reason to return with Ari, after all. Like, it's not like you can have too many dresses, but I also don't want her to feel left out. Should we get her a gift?'

Mevrouw Baker was enigszins onder de indruk van haarzelf, dat ze de man zo ver kreeg daadwerkelijk op te staan. Ze was ook onder de indruk van zijn acteerkunsten, zo onschuldig dat hij keek, net of zijn neus bloedde. Wat een irriterende jongeman, en dat terwijl ze hem tot nu toe altijd wel vriendelijk gevonden had. Dat was zijn doel, natuurlijk. Vriendelijk gevonden worden, het meisje bezwangeren en ervan door gaan. "Houd je niet van de domme, de Haviland. Ze is mijn dochter! Ik ken jouw type." Ze keek naar haar dochter. "Ik heb je gewaarschuwd, Sas." Het was toch verschrikkelijk! Verschrikkelijk.
 
"Misbruik maken van mijn dochter, met haar naar bed zonder te trouwen!" Sascha hoopte dat de grond haar op zou eten, maar helaas. Ze stond hier nog steeds en ze moest toch iets doen. Zeker omdat wat ze zei nergens op sloeg. "Mama! Ik ben nog maagd?!?" Wat de waarheid was. Even was ze heel blij nooit op haar gevoelens in te zijn gegaan, anders had ze dat niet zo vol vertrouwen kunnen zeggen en had ze nog verder door de grond kunnen zakken, als haar moeder haar niet al in een klooster opsluiten zou. 

He apologised for their son, but he couldn't really help the boy's reaction, right? Priscilla didn't pay too much attention, was too caught up at trying to hurt herself and Madeline was considering asking for a raise as the girl kept trying. In the end, a little paralysing spell seemed like the best way to go and Priscilla fell limp. Madeline didn't have much empathy for her, had heard all she'd done and Priscilla's words about denouncing God went completely against her morals, but her job was her job. "She'll be fine. A bit of sleep at the house should help." Lifting the paralysing spell Priscilla continued whimpering, but at least the head hitting had stopped.
 
"Come on, miss." She muttered, rather annoyed as she helped the girl pick herself of from the floor. "Don't do all that silly stuff." She smiled at the man, apologetically, before pulling the woman up and into a walk. "Thank you for your time. Excuse us." Madeline made a memo to put out a advertisement in the newspapers for another job when she got home. This was too much.
 
George and Pris (and Madeline) out

"Empress?" She almost stopped in her tracks to look at her friend. Jesus. "Good riddance." It was that, atleast, though she was getting a little nervous herself now. She wasn't getting any younger and still no ring around her finger. All the while she was a good candidate, had been told that all her life. Still, she was also worried about her friends, especially Ari. She wasn't married yet and.. Well, atleast no bad man was going to be in her life. For that she was happy. She didn't think many men were suited for her best friend. She was too kind, too gentle, and honestly a little too naive. 
 
But today was not a day to think about that too much. Today was about gossip, and catching up with her friend. "I heard the new season is in at the Stonem's. Figure it might be worth a look." Honestly it was hard sometimes, going to the Stonem store, but they had such cute clothes, and was her purchase really going to make a difference? Every rich girl in the magical dimension wore Stonem. If she only wore clothes made by ethical brands with people at the top that didn't do horrible shit, she'd only buy brands that nobody knew about. She did make sure not to wear them on family gatherings, though. She had that much tact.
 
"We should get a couple of new dresses. Get into the new season in style." 

Hij lachte. Zonder enige kennis van zaken van de auteur nam Maxwell zijn toverstok om het sterrenbeeld vissen in de hemel te doen oplichten, zodat Desmond het kon zien. De auteur zou dit moeten weten, maar was niet goed genoeg aan het opletten in de Volkssterrenwacht Urania om te kunnen zeggen of het sterrenbeeld zichtbaar is in de zomer – maar bij deze dus wel. Noem het de kracht van de liefde. Of nee, noem het Max’ vaardigheid om Desmond altijd te kunnen terugvinden in de sterren, waar hij ook was. Was dat een compliment? Of was dat niets meer en niets minder dan zijn godvergeten obsessie? 
 
“Die is van jou”, lichtte hij toe, met een lach. “Ik was in zo veel slecht op Zweinstein.” Hij had eigenlijk vrij hard gestudeerd om er dan maar door te zijn met middelmatige resultaten. Echt trots had hij zijn ouders nooit gezien. Ha. Daar ging hij nu niet over nadenken. “De magische vakken gingen meestal nog wel, maar die puur theoretische als geschiedenis of zelfs heelkunde waren echt niet aan mij besteed.” Ryder was gek van hem geworden, geloofde hij. En hij, hij was ook gek. Hij keek naast zich, naar Desmonds profiel.  
 
Hij zou dit niet moeten zeggen. 
 
Maar hij ging het wel doen. 
 
Bier was geen excuus, de sfeer ook niet, want hij was nuchter en de sfeer was zo amicaal als maar kon zijn, exact zoals Desmond altijd was, maar hij kon er niet over blijven zwijgen en hij merkte aan verdomme alles dat hij hem wilde kussen, zijn maagdelijk witte hemd wilde opendoen met de gretigheid van een engerd in een nachtclub en hij wilde al niet weten hoe hij zich gedragen had als hij niet nuchter was geweest. Een goed persoon was hij niet. Hij probeerde niet eens meer om zichzelf daarvan te overtuigen. Hij ging wat rechter zitten, al kon hij niet zeggen waarom. “Weet je, ik ben verliefd op je.” 

'Did you hear that Empress is married now?' Fiore threw a look at Penelope Corindale-Desmarais, absolutely positive that she, as one of her best friends, absolutely had an opinion on this all, especially considering neither of them, nor their best friend Ariel, had found themselves married yet. It all seemed a little unfair, if you asked Fiore, but on the plus side they wouldn't have to deal with her anymore at La Fleur Blanche.
 
Didn't mean it still baffled Fiore how she got married before either of them, though.
 
She led Penelope through the streets of London, though they both had been clear as to where they'd wanted to go for today - shopping first, especially with a visit to the Stonem store, then get some tea, and then get nails done. All very important business, though it'd been a shame Ari hadn't been able to join them. Fi would have to set a date with her separately.
'Did you want to go in here, by the way?' she asked, nodding to the store up ahead. 'Or straight on to the Stonem store?'

"I figure it's best." Her chaperone said but Priscilla disagreed. Bartholomew belonged with her as much as with George and she hadn't seen him since he was born, but as the boy kept speaking it felt like more and more of her was breaking down. Was there going to be anything left after this? She wasn't sure. Bartie's word cut her deep and she wanted to get up, go to hold him but she didn't want him to push her away. She knew he would, with the way he was talking. It was hell all over again. 
 
And then he left. Her son left and with him the constraints on herself. "No, no..." She cried. She had nobody to rely on anymore, always had herself and God, but now he was gone and she didn't feel strong enough on her own to withstand this. Her son disliked her, hated her maybe, thought she was creepy and weird. That's what everyone seemed to think now, keeping their distance. Even her parents didn't feel comfortable with her. Her chaperone was only sitting beside her because she was paid good money to do so, probably feeling safe in the knowledge she had a wand while Priscilla didn't. She wanted him to come back, to hold him close, to kiss his head and not let go for a long time. To watch him play, to see him be happy.
 
"Should we go home, Priscilla?" What did it matter where she was? Her son thought she was creepy. He could see the crazy behind her eyes. All the things that had happened to her, that didn't happen to normal people.
 
She flopped on the floor, hitting her head, feeling her chaperone's hand stop her from banging on the hard ground. "I should take her home." Miss 'O Driscoll said to George though Priscilla didn't hear it, too focussed on hitting her head, trying to avoid Madeline's hand at every beat. 

At least George did something, because Priscilla didn't think she could move, even if she wanted to. Her son, the one she'd been clinging onto in her mind, to relieve the pain of the asylum, didn't want to meet her. She'd thought up this whole elaborate relationship between the two of them and although she knew it wasn't going to be like that immediately, she'd expected the boy at least to see the similarities, to be happy to know his mother hadn't wanted to abandon him. They'd ripped him from her, and every day since she'd thought about him, if he was doing well, what he was doing. 
 
Weird. He thought she was weird. "My baby!" She shrieked, unable to keep her composure. "Don't say that. I love you, you're my baby, don't say that!" She rambled, as her chaperone held her arm around her. She wasn't sure if she tried to comfort her or contain her, but Priscilla hunched over her knees, holding them in an attempt to push away the nausea. This couldn't be real.

She'd expected some resistance, but instead, George called for him. The maid left and she could feel the nervousness emerge in her stomach and then he entered. Her boy, her son. The beautiful smile on his face as clear as in the picture, yet now she was so close to him. She felt like her entire time in the asylum had led to this, all the pain, he was finally here. No longer a picture. He was-
 
She looked at her son, so uninterested in meeting her playing seemed more appealing and her heart seemed to stop. "Bartie..." She muttered, feeling an immense sadness cloud her mind, her soul. He didn't want her. Why would an 8 year old boy not be interested in his mother? Had George told him the whole story, that he was taken from her? She held her hand to her chest, as it felt like her broken heart could spill out at any moment if she didn't hold it. She looked at George through her tears, didn't know what to say or do while the woman who was with her looked a little on edge, holding her wand as if she was worried Priscilla would get up to strangle someone. She couldn't do much else, since she didn't have a wand. She looked back at her son.
 
"My baby." She cried, her hands shaking from the pain in her chest, her lips trembling. The last time she'd seen him in the flesh was when he came out of her. What could she do if he did not want to meet her?

Dolores wilde heus wel helpen, al was het maar omdat ze zich niet comfortabel rond haar teerbeminde vader voelde om nee te zeggen en ook enigszins omdat het er bij haar was ingedrild dat ze niet echt een keuze had wat dat betrof en dat ze móést helpen zodra iemand ernaar vroeg. Sinds ze hier in het klooster was terechtgekomen, was die neiging alleen maar erger geworden, alsof het zelfs nooit een optie was om niet te helpen.
 
“Wat erg. Ik zal voor uw gezin bidden”, zei ze beleefd, terwijl ze zich probeerde in te denken over welke broer het eigenlijk zou gaan. Ze had ooit wel een familieportret gezien, geloofde ze. Ze had langs deze kant van de familie drie broers, die haar allemaal erg lang hadden geleken, en twee zussen. Ze dacht dat ze ouder was dan een van hen, maar heel zeker was ze daar niet van – de exacte leeftijden had ze nooit geweten. “Oh, ik ken niet zo veel van geneeskunde”, voegde ze er licht beschaamd aan toe, alsof ze dat wel had moeten doen. “Ik kan naast bidden weinig doen, vrees ik.”

"Thank you." She smiled back at him. "I live with my parents in Bath in my old room." So. Well.
 
"I came to ask about Bartie. They took away the picture you sent me, as a punishment. I'd like to see him again. I miss his face. It kept me sane." As sane as one could be in there.

She could taste the awkwardness in the room, his uncomfortableness. Or maybe it was her own. Last time she'd seen him she'd been pinned to the table by the teachers after she'd tortured his girlfriend. Even thinking that out loud made her want to crawl back home and die in her bed. "Tea sounds good. Do you have mint tea or something herbal?" Since being back she noticed that regular tea made her feel really anxious. Like the keepers of that horrible place could burst through the doors at any second, ready to grab her away again.
 
"It has been, yes." She'd been a teenager back then. She'd thought God would be kind on her, but the last years had been hell. God. It wasn't God, really. Though she still named the voice she'd heard for all that time God. More a name than the entity she'd learned about as a kid. More a demon than a God, wasn't it? Perhaps she'd been possessed, but pills couldn't expel demons, yet these did. She pressed her lips together, unsure what to say.
 
"I'm well. As well as one can be after years of you know." Candy Kane. The special ward of the hospital. "I'm taking medications. I wasn't well before, but I am better now. I am genuinely sorry for what happened." Though it had hardly been a choice back then. It was difficult.

Augustus 1842
 
Ze had eindelijk weer een eigen plekje, nadat ze uit het appartement van Christa, haar nichtje, gegooid was. En dat moest gevierd. Met een goede fles wijn en een grappig bordspelletje keek ze uitdagend naar haar vriend die voor haar zit, bluffend met haar stenen. Ze keek ernaar uit om vanavond samen met hem in haar bed te knuffelen, genietend van de rust en de dagelijkse sleur die zo langzaam aan weer begon, tot plots haar voordeur open gegooid werd. De klap tegen de wand deed haar verschieten, waarna haar moeder binnen gestormd kwam.
 
"Mam?" Vroeg ze verward en geschrokken, tot haar moeder driftig op Neptunus af stapte en hem een vinger tegen de borst drukte. "Waar denk je wel niet mee bezig te zijn? Met MIJN dochter?" Brieste ze bruut. "Sta op." Commandeerde ze en Sascha kon wel wegkwijnen want what de fuck was dit dan? "Mam?!? Wat bezielt je?" Riep ze schel, en stond op om naast Neptunus te staan maar het gebeurde allemaal zo vlug!

Zomer 1842 -> Een van Matthews huizen
Normaal zou hij iemand anders dit werk laten doen, maar hij had gezeur gekregen over werknemers die vakantie wilden. Dus besloot hij het zelf te doen. Maakte ook voor een keer niet uit; als Julienne Haysward goed ingewerkt was, zou ze vast dat soort taken over kunnen nemen. Ze was ambitieus genoeg, leek het! Ambitieuze mensen konden goed uitgebuit worden, zolang je ze genoeg hoop voor de toekomst gaf.
 
“Dus", hij spreidde zijn armen even, "dit is een van de huizen,” hij had de minst krakkemikkige uitgezocht voor deze rondleiding, “het is de bedoeling dat je mensen rondleidt, checkt of ze het kunnen betalen, ze af en toe overhaalt dat het echt een goede keus is... dat gaat wel lukken, toch?”

"Tuurlijk, ik zal je altijd helpen Poppy"

"Nee tuurlijk, maar ze moet denken dat het de beste keuze is om te vertrekken". Hij grijnsde opgewekt naar zijn zusje, "ze is niet zo slim als ze denkt, dus trapt er vast in!"