| Details for About the Future… |
| Summary: | Esther and Peyton walk on a seemingly napping Marcus. After Esther leaves, Marcus and Peyton have a little debate. |
| Date: | 1938-12-06 |
| Location: | Slytherin Common Room - Hogwarts Castle |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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A sigh. "Contrary to popular believe, I don't mind romance." Esther pauses. It's only this year that everyone's discovered that she's female, and her lack of interest in dating has been… Not the best received. "Very well then." Esther retrieves a quilt of her own from the bed, wrapping it around her light form. Since she'll be sitting, no doubt, chatting. Plus, it'll keep her from being stared at. She might be thin, there might be little to her, but it hasn't stopped them in the past.
Esther emerges from the girls dormitory, followed closely by Peyton and her textbook. Both girls are in their pyjama's - Esther is in a slim silk nightie that clings to her in ways that would cause Marcus to stare all over again, but she's half-wrapped in a quilt to prevent that. It's only just past dawn, after all.
Peyton is dressed a bit more fittingly for the dank coolness of the dungeons, her floor-length, forest green nightgown something from a medieval fairytale. "You have a dorm for imitating a steam engine in," she comments in regards to the snoring, though thankfully it stops soon after they arrive. "But perhaps Esther can take lessons from you, she hasn't slept all night." Picking an armchair near the hearth, Peyton folds herself onto it gracefully, setting her own blanket onto her lap.
Marcus can't quite stare. He can snore, mind you. Right now, he's out like a light. Or so it would seem, as he lies on one of the sofas, his head resting on arm of the thing and his robe pulled up a little bit to cover his face. The snoring suddenly stops and there's a tired and muffled, "Hey there," that he offers as a greeting. He sits up some, yawning and then smacking his lips together. To Peyton he adds, "True, but then I have to put up with the other steam engine idiots in there and their noise."
Esther's quilt is wrapped around her - After how Marcus stared at her thin blouse yesterday, the girl takes no chances, ensuring it's nice and tight before she settles into another armchair, like a caterpillar. "Morning Marcus." She greets. "And if I don't require the sleep, I don't see why I needs must take it? I catch up in the evenings as and when I must."
"Everyone needs sleep; madness is born of a mind that doesn't rest." Peyton opens her textbook to a page of Divination symbology. "I can certainly sympathize with that," she tells Marcus, apparently amused at his lip-smacking awakening. "Charming," she says in a tone that hints it is anything but.
"Esther," Marcus offers in reply to her greeting. He looks between the two girls as Esther addresses Peyton, and shakes his head, standing up and stretching. "Mind resting, that's what I was doing," he smirks and then nods once in Peyton's direction. "She's got a point, you know."
"Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae fuit;" Esther quotes without pause. She's always prepared for someone to question her sanity, and has just what to say in mind. 'There has been no great wisdom, without an element of madness.' "I get enough rest. If I didn't, I would require more, and would thusly take more." She smiles at Marcus. "I could have sworn you went to bed. Don't tell me you got up just to sleep on a couch? Five years of loud roomates does not a couch-bed make."
"Dementiae in valde non vado ignarus," Peyton quotes in retort. 'Madness in even the greatest must not go ignored.' "If you got enough rest, we wouldn't be having this discussion. Perhaps you've already gone a bit mad, dear cousin." She looks from Esther to Marcus then. "Tell the truth, you came down to peep at girls in their nightclothes, didn't you," she accuses mildly. "I'll bet the fake snoring was just that - fake."
Marcus offers a couple of blinks at the quote. "Between wisdom while feeling like the walking dead, and, not feeling like the walking dead. I think I'll go for the later," he muses, smirking and adds a shrug in response to Esther. "I did. I went to bed, I slept. Didn't dream of muggles, thankfully," he offers that last bit dryly. "Then woke up, because some idiots was snoring too—" He then stops, looks at Peyton and actually grins, raising his hands in defeat. "Busted." A pause. "And then you two showed up. So, it worked!" He raises his eyebrows at her, eyes widening just a bit as a sardonic smile shows on his face.
Latin duel. The idea appeals to Esther, who yawns cutely yet again, and looks over at Peyton with a long-suffering sigh. "Then for your benefit, dear cousin, I'll go back to bed." She states simply, slowly getting to her feet. "Give my apologies to Tom, at breakfast, and make sure he eats something. The boy has a lot of growing to do. I'll see you both in class." Wrapped in her duvet as she is, she's not worried about Marcus checking out her ass.
Peyton doesn't go checking out Esther's ass either, for the record. "Rest well," she tells the girl as she heads back up to the dormitory. "I haven't the slightest idea why I should care whether some third-year eats breakfast," she admits idly. "But it's good that Esther has taken an interest in a boy, even if he is a bit young for her." She looks to Marcus then. "What have you been up to, anyway? Aside from being a peeping tom, that is," she adds, all amused impatience in the face of his unsettling smile.
"Good bye, Esther," Marcus offers a lazy wave as the other girl retires. He then stretches and plops back on the couch he's sitting at. "The Riddle boy? She mentioned him yesterday," he shrugs. "Apparently, he's getting her to eat. Good for him, though, scoring an older chick." At her question he looks at the couch, then at Peyton. "What's that? I'm sorry, you're too far away. I can't hear you," he pats a spot on the couch next to him. "You should sit closer, I don't like shouting across the room." He smirks. "I promise I won't bite."
Peyton laughs, shaking her head. "Don't talk about Esther like that, she isn't anyone's score, not even Dumbledore's pet orphan." She looks from her Divination textbook to the spot on the couch Marcus indicates. "I'm not worried about your bite, Goyle. I'm worried about your bark, and more specifically, that you'll distract me from studying." Despite these alleged concerns however, she draws her blanket into her arms and rises gracefully, padding over toward the couch and setting it and the book down beside Marcus. "Tea?" she asks, moving toward the table that holds a piping kettle near a set of cups. "I'll read your leaves for you, afterward," she offers.
Marcus snorts. "Isn't she? Aren't we all? Someone's score, that is," he says as hazel eyes study Peyton. "Aren't I? Aren't you?" He shrugs and can't help but grin at her remark. "If I wanted to distract you, I'd have walked over and knocked the book of your hands, then swept you off your feet and dragged you somewhere." He notes, all serious and then just nods again to the spot on the couch, allowing a smirk when she settles down the book beside him. "Sure." A pause. "Although I prefer my future reading to be a bit less… esoteric." Deep breath. "I so wished you had taken Arithmancy rather than Divination, Pey."
Stirring the cups of tea, Peyton shakes her head. "We aren't," she insists mildly enough. "Why keep score? Does being someone's conquest make you a better person? Does it offer some sort of validation?" She carries the tea back over to the couch, curling herself onto it carefully before offering a saucer to Marcus. "You would have done no such thing, and I've a powerful urge to charm my books with an anti-knocking spell straight away, now."
She sips her tea carefully, watching the dark-haired boy over the rim. "Arithmancy isn't half as beautiful," she says. "There's no wish, no flexibility to a dream, when you encode it in numbers." Her blue eyes shine brightly. "But fine. You tell me this - there were crows in my dream last night. Three of them. They were circling overhead, but one broke away from the other two. Any significance to those numbers?"
"Why be a better person? Why not just be who you are?" Marcus counters. "Being a better person is overrated. You can spend your whole life being a better person, and that only matters as far as what others think of you. But what about what you think of you," he points at her chest… just above her breasts. He takes the saucer and looks with curiosity at Peyton. "Are you sure I wouldn't have? Maybe I'm just bidding my time," he says, his tone arrogant. "And when you least expect it. BAM, there go your books. Flying all over the place," he smirks. Still, hazel eyes watch her sip her tea and there's a bit of a frown as she continues speaking. For some reason, he can't help but look at her, though as he listens. And to his credit. He listens, or rather, he doesn't interrupt.
"Without the numbers it's all too muddled. Granted, there's something to say about taking risks like that, but," he shrugs and then chuckles. "You know the, artist in me wants to agree with you," and he leaves a silent but there. "My brother, I'm sure, would agree with you." He says that darkly, shaking his head. As for the dream… He grins. "It's simple. There are things that are better enjoyed when done by two," he notes to her. "Three is, well, company." A pause. "Or if you want to look at it the other way, perhaps that one was tired of just sitting there listening to the other two caw." Squinting he adds, "Go ahead, Pey. Read my leaves."
"Being a better person doesn't just matter to other people, Marcus," Peyton disagrees. "And I know you don't really believe that, you're just being difficult now." She sets her cup aside and reaches for his, swirling the dregs and studying the shapes inside. "A beetle, there," she murmurs, pointing out a smudge along the side of the cup. "And there, look - you see how the bottom has that whole open space, uninterrupted? That's water." She tucks one foot underneath herself, concentrating. "And that ring around the cup, unbroken? That's ivy."
She turns the pages in her textbook then, searching out each symbol in its turn. "I'm worried about Alphard, by the way. He's worried that the half-bloods are gunning for him after recent events, and to be perfectly honest, I think his concerns might not be unfounded. I don't know how close the two of you are, but you should talk to him."
"It doesn't?" Marcus shakes his head. "I am who I am, Pey. And so are you. Once you stop denying ourselves the truth of who we are, everything happens more smoothly." He doesn't deny that he's being difficult, though and yet, very willingly lets her take that cup. He squints at the beetle. He squints very hard. "Water beetles. That's it? Oh, and ivy, that makes it all better." He sounds amused, but there is an intensity to his gaze as he watches Peyton study her textbook.
"They wouldn't dare. They're a bunch of cowards," Marcus notes in a matter of fact tone. "And he's a big boy, he can take care of himself." There's a bit of a pause and almost a sigh as he adds, "I'll talk to him. For you. I've been thinking of joining the Magijugend, anyway."
"I didn't say water beetles," Peyton protests, though a moment later she realizes aloud, "You're teasing again." She shakes her head, setting the cup aside and focusing on the book. "You'd be surprised what people will do when they feel threatened. I'm sure he can take care of himself, but still, I worry. He looked ready to throttle Esther when she brought it up."
Finding a page with a diagram drawing of a beetle, she nods. "Alright, it says 'This signifies unrest, or disagreements' - no shock there, when aren't you disagreeing with something. 'There is a risk of slander and abuse by those you regard as friends.'" She doesn't look particularly pleased by that one, but then continues. "It says here that water signifies travel; are you leaving at all for the holiday? I'm thinking of staying," she reveals. "Father is traveling until the new year, and I'm not sure I can spare the study time besides."
Teasing again? "Maybe," Marcus says of it, lips barely forming a grin. The grin quickly disappears as she continues talking about Alphard. "Mmhm," he mumbles the sound in response to her words, looking actually interested as they move on to the beetles.
He squints at her words. "That's not true, I don't disagree all the time," he obviously disagrees now, at least. The question about travel, causes him to pause. "You're staying? Well, I was thinking of staying too. Imagine that! You can be my Herbology tutor, eh?" He playfully nudges her with his elbow. "But anyway. This is the part where you translate all that into plain English, I think."
"I'm not staying behind to do your homework, Marcus. You need to start applying yourself and stop flirting your way through our classmates and their assignments," she chastises him. "Now, the ivy. Well, that's weird," she says. "Apparently 'Ivy symbolizes honor and happiness through faithful friends.' So a contradiction. Hm." She closes the book, setting his teacup aside and taking up her much-cooled cup now as she mulls over a possible interpretation.
"I wasn't asking you to do my homework," Marcus actually sounds indignant as he respond to her words. "Not you," he mutters that last part. But then, he shrugs. "Fine, I'll find myself someone else that wants to help me with Herbology." And just like that, he moves on. To the Ivy. "Is there such a thing? Wait, don't answer, I know what you'll say. Yes, there is such a thing as a faithful friend." Putting his hands behind his head, he casually leans back. "So, disagreement with friends that will abuse me, and yet, they're faithful to me. Sounds like a joyride already."
Looking away, Peyton frowns slightly, some color coming to her cheeks. "I didn't mean to cause offense, I thought you were just trying to be tricky." She looks back to Marcus, reaching to touch his shoulder, if he lets her. "Of course I'll help you with Herbology," she promises.
"As best I can figure it, it seems to mean you'll have friends that aren't really friends that slander you, but you'll still be happy because you have true friends that remain by your side… and all of this will occur during or around some trip you take?" She chews her bottom lip thoughtfully. "It isn't exact, I could be reading this all wrong… but that's the gist," she decides, accepting her interpretation as the final answer. "Am I invited on this mysterious bit of travel we see in your future?" she wonders, drawing the blanket up over her lap.
There's a bit of tension on Marcus' face, but it disappears the moment she touches his shoulder. And, he lets her. "Thank you," he says, quietly, the words barely a whisper as he visibly relaxes.
He looks a little dubious at her interpretation. "I guess I do like your version better. Less dramatic, mind you, perhaps not as exciting," he smirks, eyes widening a bit as he chuckles. Her question gets an immediate answer, with no hesitation in his voice. "That depends," he says, so committed. "Would you remain by my side or not?" He should just leave it at that and yet, more softly and looking a little annoyed at himself he adds a soft, "Yes. You are."
He looks between her, and the book and then flashes a grin. "Consider yourself distracted, Pey. I'll catch you later." And with those words, he rises, bows and smirks, adding a lazy salute.
Peyton flushes a bit at Marcus' sudden softening of tone, and quickly draws her hand away. "Well, good," she says, summoning up a practiced calm. "I'd hate for anyone to go off on an adventure without me, who will keep you civilized?" She glances aside at the book, so easily discarded in favor of conversation with Marcus, even if just for a few moments, and she looks immediately irate. "Very funny," she mutters, snatching it up and holding it to her chest as Marcus rises to leave. "It won't happen again."
"Right," Marcus so doesn't agree. When he looks at Peyton again, he doesn't stare. There's no attempt to make her any more uncomfortable. He just grins, dusts his robes and walks out of the common room.