(1939-02-07) Trust, Doubt and Cocktails
Details for Trust, Doubt and Cocktails
Summary: Esther and Sybil talk some. Esther reveals her turmoil to a stranger, trusting Silas' advice - And Sybil reveals she might finally be 'dating'.
Date: 1939-02-07
Location: Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade

Evening has drawn on. In a short while it'll be closing time at the Three Broomsticks and students will be dumped unceremoniously back on the streets to find their way back to the castle. Perhaps aware that the night is in its dying moments for them, the pub is filled with people trying to get last orders in, jostling good naturedly for space at the bar, ordering two or three drinks just so they can linger longer. Not so Sybil. Sybil's in one of the booths towards the back of the room, several upended shot glasses on the table which she's currently pushing around, forming and re-forming patterns with them.

Esther has found her way here from the beach. Thankfully the girl is old enough to be drinking, and she's managed to convince the bartender to give her something fruity and alcoholic for the second time. Although her voice might have been quiet, and unsure every time she's ordered. Someone more dedicated to drinking their problems away would be drinking faster. Either unused to drinking her problems away, or just struggling to rationalise drinking over knocking down Draughts of Peace, Esther looks thoroughly miserable as she stares into her drink.

It'd not be beyond the bounds of reason for Sybil to notice the Slytherin girl enter, nor the moroseness of her demeanour. Esther's chosen a spot that's close enough for Sybil to just lift her voice enough that it's heard over the general hubbub of the patrons still left, and so she does. "Lowe. Want to join me? A person should never drink alone, not if they can help it." She indicates the free seat opposite her with a a smile that warms her face, pushing the glasses to one side. There's a lot of them.

Esther takes a few long seconds to respond, before she responds. Not by speaking, at first - Slender fingers wrapping around the top of her glass, and taking it and herself to the seat offered. "Thank you." She offers quietly, looking at Sybil. Her intense, smokey stare scrutinising. What's this girl's angle? Does she have one? Should she… Trust this one, and see if Silas is right? The doubt almost threatens to engulf her, but after a mouthful of her drink, she seems to have decided. A smile. "Hello." Noticing that Sybil isn't drinking, right now.

Sybil watches the girl opposite a moment. "Sybil Pyrites," she says. "Ravenclaw. And you're Esther Lowe, yes?" She introduces herself in case the other girl's not aware of whom she is, even though she apparently knows of Esther. Picking up one of the shot glasses she places it on top of another, starting the process of building a tower from them. "Have you been to the party on the beach? Quite a few have wandered up here from there, it looks like people were having a lot of fun."

"Mhmn." Esther nods, slowly. "Slytherin. Went down there, but… People I'd rather not see were in attendance." Jenny. Silas. Variel. Myrus. Myrus, most of all. The girl shakes her head slowly, "Makes me wish I'd spent today at the castle, truth me told. I hope you've not spent the entire day here; I wouldn't think drinking all those is the best way to spend an afternoon." Esther hypocratically takes a glance of her drink, and then compares it to the stack of shotglasses.

Sybil laughs. Its a friendly laugh and one that seems to suit the petite blonde rather well. "These aren't mine," she says, picking another glass up and taking a moment to find the perfect sense of balance for it atop the others. "These belong to Cornfoot and his friends, perhaps you saw him leaving as you came in? He was pretty drunk, so they were going to help him back to the castle. Probably I should have gone too, but I decided to stop a little longer and think about some things." A pause. "I've only had the one butterbeer, perhaps that's why I'm able to still see the world with clarity. You though, you look like you want to blot it out. Need an ear?"

"Need a new brain." Esther taps her temple lightly. "This one isn't working." A frown. Gerald's memory causes mixed emotions. "He's a nice guy. A little bit uncompromising, but… Nice for all of it." The girl takes another mouthful of her drink, aware that it's probably going to be the last she gets. "'m just not entirely certain I'm as ready for life as I thought I was. 'm making adult decisions now, and I'm making them almost all wrong." The occasional shorthand slipping in, along with her comfort, as she admits her mistakes. "Still a silly girl."

Sybil hitches her shoulders in a half-shrug. "Fifth year, yes? But still the same age as me. What life decisions could you be making at our age that weigh so heavily on you? We've barely even put a toe into adulthood as yet so there's nothing wrong with feeling a little overwhelmed, nor in wanting to take a step back from decisions." Another glass, this one retained within her fingers and twisted slowly, though her eyes remain upon Esther. "You've got another two years here at Hogwarts to mature and grow in, what's the rush?"
<FS3> Esther rolls Mind-1: Failure.

Yeah. Fifth year. There are girls born around the same time as her in the sixth year. Esther's always wondered if that was her Mother again, too. "Life. Love. World views." Esther answers simply. "S'like I'm expected to know what all of them mean… And I guess I don't really. And 'my best' just keeps falling short of what they all expect of me." Slightly mournful. Perhaps that one drink affected her - But she snaps back to common sense rather sharply. "… Sorry. You don't need to hear all my woes. Not fair to bring someone else's day down."

Sybil glances to the stack of glasses long enough to top it off with the fourth before looking back to Esther. She shakes her head. "Its fine, talk all you like. I'm a good listener." She grins with that and flips her hair away from her face with her free hand. "Look. I don't know you that well Lowe, so you can bitch and moan about whatever you like and I won't be offended or anything. I'll tell you something though, I have had a good day, even if there were unexpected twists within it. I doubt there's a single thing you could do to bring my day down."

"All told, Sybil, that's one of the reasons why I shouldn't bitch and moan. You've got not onus of responsibility 'bout you. No social convention requiring you t'keep my secrets, no moral obligation not to use them for your own gain. Problem is, some people just make me wanna talk, and I can't stop my mouth moving." Esther says it with the kind of forgone hopelessness of someone who has been stabbed in the back before. Again, and again, and again. But she's trying just once more. "Though I'm glad you had a good day."
Huh? (Type "help" for help.)

Sybil watches Esther closely as she talks, then offers the girl another smile. "Then perhaps a lesson might have been learned here today," she says. "You didn't allow yourself to talk, even though you clearly need to. You're right to be wary of whom you speak to, and if your worries are so huge that you might suspect me of spreading gossip about them, then its best you don't tell me anything. I'd not want to be the cause of someone's aggrievance. Bad feelings and hurting people aren't really what I'm about." Hands fold neatly in her lap, the girl so absolutely sober that its almost painful.

Esther… Slowly shakes her head. "… That was unkind of me. Becoming so used to shadows and backstabbing's all I can see most days now." The bountifully haired girl is most of the way through her drink. "I try to do the same. Not always what's done but always what's meant. Currently struggling through a particularly messy break-up that's not getting any easier, and that's just the first of my issues." Esther forces herself to smile. It's an awkward expression, and looks mildly uncomfortable..

Sybil wrinkles her nose. "That's a shame. About it being messy, I mean. Subconsciously I think that that's why I've never actually dated a boy, its just easier not to. Not that I've not been on dates, because I have." There's a wry twist of her lips with that, and her voice lowers just a degree. "Until now, that is. I think, finally, I've met someone that I might trust with my feelings. Its actually… quite a horrible feeling. Its like sitting at the top of the tallest slide you can imagine and preparing to just let go."

"The ride is worth the stop." Esther's answer is immediately. "I mean… The fear, the exhileration, the sense of exploration and accomplishment… It's a runaway train, and every corner you round is a blessing. Even… Even when it all derails." The girl pauses, and sighs. "… Some of my greatest memories'll be with Myrus. An' now he won't even look at me." It's a mild confidence, but a sincere one. "… But I'll find the memories. Push myself over the edge again. S'…" The girl drains her drink suddenly, seeking a momentary break from her verbal diahorrea. "S'just hard to justify the things you did. The mistakes. The promises; kept and broken."

"I hope so," Sybil says, a small amount of concern just showing in the tone of her voice when Esther paints such a contrast of feelings within her own view of things. "I feel like I've managed pretty well so far to make all those sorts of memories without a boy at my side, and as for promises… I don't know. Shouldn't you only make promises when you're absolutely certain that you can keep them?" A grimace with that, her eyes settling upon Esther's, trying to read the girl behind the angst. "Sounds like, for you, love is more a battlefield than anything else. A thrill to be chased. Shouldn't it just make you feel warm. Happy?"

"Never intended to break them. But… I don't know." Esther shakes her head. "… Myrus was a thrill. And when things got dangerous, I got too scared to continue. Felt like I was going down on my own, going to fall hard." The girl has lost herself in her story, now, and so much of it is coming to light. "… Fell. Into the arms of someone who had wanted me there for so long. Caught, and got to watch him fall alone, while I had to decide if I wanted to ride again." She blushes faintly. It's an INCREDIBLY abstract way of admitting it. "…. Kinda hate myself for it." She whispers. Stroking a finger around the rim of her glass. She's a cheat. Straight from her own mouth. She normally looks innocent, but now? Consumedwith guilt.

"Don't be so hard upon yourself," Sybil says, shaking her head at Esther. "Merlin's left foot, we're sixteen. We're meant to be having fun and enjoying ourselves, not making life decisions and beating ourselves up over them. You dated someone that you experienced a lot of firsts with, yes? But at our age, people change and grow. What we wanted last year, last month even, isn't the same as what we want now or what we'll want next year." Such wise words from the girl that's not even had a steady boyfriend, but perhaps that's also why she can be so objective.

Esther bites her lower lip. "These decisions matter. I know it seems… Foolish, young of me, simple minded… Especially because I don't know what I'll want tomorrow… But I want to be able to make the decisions that matter. I want to tell my kids, when I'm older, something that isn't… Doom. Gloom. Manipulation." Speaking from experience. "… I'm an idiot." She gains another moment of clarity; "And I'm still sixteen." A smile for Sybil again, as awkward as it looks. But she seems to have been helpful.

Sybil ducks her head as the waitress leans over to collect the tower of glasses, an apologetic smile given. "Sorry…" A crinkle of her nose Esther's way and she waits until the woman's retreated before speaking again. "I shall have to nickname you 'Esther the Intense', she teases, reaching for her scarf which she quickly wraps about her neck. "Yes. You're sixteen. Its a great age, don't you think?" This said as she gets to her feet. "I'm walking back to the castle now, would you like to walk with me? Or are you staying until they turf you out on on your ear."

"No. I'm probably just as well to head off to the castle." Esther rises to her feet, only the littlest bit unsteady. "I'm not this bad all the time. You've just caught me at a bad time." The girl blushes faintly, pulling her cloak tigher around herself. Her hair makes up for a hood, and the wool of her jersey will shield her from the worst of the cold. "Best days of my life, Sybil. Oh… Do you mind if I smoke?" The girl asks. She's kind enough to ask, which is unusual.

Sybil shakes her head. "I don't mind. No," she says, pulling a knitted hat from her pocket. She tugs it down over her ears, wisps of hair just framing the edges of her face. Nothing more needs to be said it seems, at least not until they're walking the path back to the castle, and pulling her cloak about herself, she falls into step beside Esther, matching her step for step.

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