| Details for Carrow Family Reunion |
| Summary: | Hector and Beryl pay Myrus a little visit when they find him in the Three Broomsticks. A 'nice' conversation occurs between the two Carrow blood relatives. |
| Date: | 1939-03-02 |
| Location: | Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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Another long day of what felt like nothing. The decision to volunteer at the Fawley Farm was.. not feeling right anymore. So here he sits, in a booth seat in the Three Broomsticks, a glass of cider in front of him after a day's worth of work. Drinking didn't have much glamour in it when there wasn't anyone to share the fun times with. And he was currently by himself at the establishment. Even considering there were a few other people here, he was by himself considering he didn't know anyone else here at the moment.
So sitting, thinking, and even reading through a newspaper on recent happenings in the wizarding world. Grindlewald supporters this, social movement supporters that. It all seemed a bit daunting to think about. But, he's a teen, and it was past him why it all made no sense to him. Even the question of why was out of his reach at the time. But it made no bother, it was at least something to do while the clock ticked the day's moments away. He looks up at it. Four in the afternoon. Wonderfully early to get more sleep. Ugh, even sleeping didn't sound appealing. He sighs, flipping the page over looking at what confounding adult problems and tribulations the world had to offer on page 2 of this paper monstrocity of printed verbage. So many words..
— It is not hard for Hector Carrow to spot the sighing young man sitting alone in the pub. As the man walks in he pulls down the collar of his coat and begins to take it off, as well as moving to hang it up before turning to help the woman whom is following behind him with her coat. As he does this the soft bronze eyes of Hector look down at her and narrow slightly before he tilts his head in the boys direction. "Shall we corrupt young minds?" He whispers to the woman before giving her a thin smile.
Once that is done he turns and begins to walk directly at the booth where Myrus sits reading his paper. It is not long before he stands towering over the table and glares down at him, his expression one of mild curiosity. "Myrus Carrow." He speaks his name with a quirked brow and waits patiently to be invited to sit and join him.
Smooth, suave and sophisticated just walked in the door of the Three Broomsticks… all in the demure little form of Beryl Crabbe. Hector also lends an air of class to the pair, of course, but it's the auburn-haired lady in red who generally draws the eyes of patrons whenever they walk into a public house. Everything about her demeanor is lofty as her cool green gaze drifts in the direction indicated by her employer.
"Whither thou goest…" she jokes in a silvery little voice. Allowing her soft lips to form into an attractive smile, Beryl follows Hector's lead toward Myrus.
He was in the middle of a small blurb in the bottom left corner of the page about someone buying a dragon egg from someone else illegally. Myrus didn't even get to the part about who bought it or what kind it was (if that was even in there) when the voice loomed overhead from someone he hadn't heard since a family reunion a couple years ago. Or was it longer than that?
"Uncle Hector." He responds, though maybe his voice was a touch mocking in it's quickly spoken length and the slight side to side bob of his head. "Mother sent you to check up on me? How.. expected." He was assuming it was his mother who had sent word again. She'd made the suggestion to him several times to go see him at his investment firm and possibly apply for a position. Myrus didn't listen of course. So it was less of a surprise to see Hector here now, but sadly mistaken is our young Carrow in this regard?
In either instance, he folds the paper in half, and gestures to the seat across from him, and with the paper down, reaches for his glass and takes a sip.
— The tone does not go unnoticed by the older Carrow as he moves to take a seat across from the boy, while doing so he motions his hand toward the woman at his side to sit next to Myrus instead of him. It's a not so subtle way to making the boy uncomfortable around an attractive older woman, or at the very least a way of reading how the boy handles himself. "Shut the fuck up boy."
A cigarette is pulled from his little silver case and placed between his lips as a lighter is also produced. The cigarette is lit and a slow drag is taken as Hector holds his impassive stare on the young man from behind the slowly growing cloud of acrid smoke. "Smoke?" The case is opened and extended toward Myrus. "You clearly don't give a damn about me or what my cousin seems to think of me. So how about we cut the shit?"
Beryl is probably going to enjoy her little part to play in all of this far too much…
Gracefully sliding onto the seat next to Myrus, she flashes the boy a small, doting smile. Giving him a silent once-over through lowered lashes, she finally turns away to see to her little handbag. From it, she fishes out a silver cigarette case - and from this, she retrieves a dark cigarette that is quite unlike any that Hector might smoke. With great deliberation, she allows the men to talk as she patiently walks through the ritual of inserting the cigarette into its refined holder. Holding it steady in her pert little mouth, she flicks her silver lighter and ignites the Kretek. Then, she draws in a slow, luxuriating breath before releasing a thin trail of exotic, spiced smoke through her refined nose… just like a dragon.
Myrus watches Hector over his glass as the older gentleman sits. And the thought of him being a gentleman goes out the window with the first sentence other than speaking Myrus' name comes forth from that filthy crevice known as Hector's Venomous Yap.
Then he's offered a cigarette in the form of a question. And as well asking if they just cut to the chase, with more acid than Myrus seems want to deal with today.
Though before he responds, he does as the man first asked, and keeps quiet as he watches Beryl move in to sit next to him, adjusting himself to give her enough room to be comfortable, while not bumping elbows, but he's not at all worried about her sitting next to him. Though she is given a once-over as well before he looks back to Hector.
"Three things. First, pick one. Tell me to keep quiet, or ask me questions. I'll not dote to contradictions. Second, I don't smoke. Lastly, what shit are we cutting? I never knew we were even in the delegations to remove unecessaries from a non-existant repertoire." His tone was flat, unamused, and unwavered. This usually got him in trouble when he was in class and a teacher was being unfair to a certain house of students or other students were being cretons but noone else called them out on it. So he lightly lifts both brows in somewhat of a staring contest with Hector for now, awaiting more acid to be spat back at him, so Myrus just accepts in his mind that this encounter will be an uphill battle anyhow, so why not dig in nice and deep with your climbing pick into the side of the mountain of a personality called Uncle.
— The case snaps closed and Hector pockets the thing with a smirk on his face. After taking another drag he seems to regard the boy with a sort of curiosity that a person would an animal at the zoo. "Being a smart ass doesn't mean that you're smart." The elder Carrow points out with a short nod of his head. "If what I said didn't make it clear that I won't be having any of your impotent childish ire then perhaps I should make myself more clear so that you aren't confused."
There is another pause as he takes another drag before motioning toward the woman now sitting at his side. "This is Beryl Crabbe by the way." With that out of the way Hector leans back in his chair in order to get comfortable. His glare still fixed hard on the young man. "Your mother seems to think that you're in need of guidance. She seems to think that I can provide this. Since we are family in the simplest sense of the word I considered her request." Another drag is taken and the smoke is exhaled as Hector speaks to the boy. "So I will say it again. Lets cut to the chase… unless you would rather I simply watch over you like a nanny. Perhaps Ms Crabbe would be interested in that job for some cash on the side?" Hector looks over and Beryl and smirks.
Languid trails of milky white smoke continue to drift from Beryl and her Kretek thoughtfully as she listens to the interchange between Uncle and Nephew. She toys with the slim stem of her cigarette holder with her tongue, causing the occasional distracting swirl of motion. Although it's fairly impossible to decifer any emotion from the woman's refined features, every so often, a smirk will tug at the corner of her lips; or else, a single, perfect eyebrow becomes quirked for a flickering instant.
When addressed by Hector, she withdraws the holder from her mouth and smiles wryly: "I'm sure we would get along famously. I find talking to be tedious, and he's so very fond of hearing himself speak. He could fill the silence of my lonely days."
Oh… how doth her cup of sarcasm overflow and spill onto the floor.
"And just because you are asked to help doesn't mean that you can." Insulting his own mother's intuition to get back at a man who he really doesn't know all that much about. Awesome start, Rus.
He admits a small defeat here, and chews on the inside of his lip a little bit before following along, "Alright," he looks at Beryl, giving her at least the acknowledging nod, then back to Hector, "What's the other option?"
Beryl's peanut gallery gets a sideways glance. A little wary at her disposition in all of this. Hector's wife? No, no way Hector with all his visciousness would go for anyone other than a… um. Yeah, it just didn't feel like it to Myrus. So he'll ask about that later if it's still nagging at the back of his brain.
— "Indeed. It's a first impression that sticks isn't it Ms Crabbe?" Hector replies to her comments first before he turns back to Myrus and examins him again. Another drag is taken as he seems to accept the boys surrender. "I would like that part would be fairly obvious. Talk." He tilts his head in an inquisitive manner as he motions for the Myrus to take the lead. "Why does your mother think that you are in need of guidance? What has happened recently that brought about this level of concern and the seeming need for a mentor?"
Beryl's pert little mouth goes from smirking and right into a pout easily. Probably just to annoy the poor teenager, she reaches over and pats his arm consolingly whilst giving Hector a scolding look. "At this tender young age, I'm sure it had something to do with the affairs of the heart. They do wreak such havoc at times." She then withdraws with a dramatic little sigh, her eyes upturned to the heavens for a moment. Then, she takes a consoling drag of smoke from her Kretek, returning to her silence on the sidelines. The boys can now carry on freely.
Talk. Everyone wants to talk. His mother wanted to talk. Scarlet wants to talk. Father- ok one person who doesn't want to talk. Esther wants to- talk.
Beryl hit it right on the head. "Well, she's a two-timing whore that gave up on me for someone that caught her fancy in a month. I'm just playing nice right now so later on I can return the favor." Underneath he was hot. He doesn't notice until that moment that he was grinding his teeth together, and he forces his jaw to relax, and his hands to stop white-knuckling in his lap before he reaches up to grab his glass and take another sip of cider. "But yeah, in the process of changing my name from Lowe to Carrow. My father wanted me to be a Slytherin more than anything, but I'm not. Most of them I could care less about, and that list is getting longer every week it feels. Also my sister is among the snakes, so that doesn't help on either front. Gotten into a couple fights, very few friends, umm…" he thinks about it for a moment, lightbulb, "Someone nearly killed my owl because I got someone else pretty good for being a piece of garbage, and got away with it." He went silent. That was about all he could think of. Hopefully falling quiet would denote to the adults that he was done.
— The older man simply sits in his chair quietly as the truth begins to spill out in an emotional torrent that spells out the problem fairly clearly. Well… it's clear to Hector. Leaning forward he reachs out and ashes his cigarette on the table before him before replying. "All kittens must eventually become cats."
At this comment the man simply smiles in a thin sort of way at Myrus. He apparently isn't going to explain that bit of wisdom just yet however as he continues on without skipping a beat. "Let me say this to you though Myrus: Revenge is meaningless unless you accomplish something of value in the process. Otherwise it's just petty and pointless. All hearts are broken eventually and I know this all too well since I was very much like you were when I went to Hogwarts."
"So is that it then?" Hector asks the young man, his eyes looking now back at Beryl as if to confirm that she sees this as well. When he looks back at the young man he clarifies. "Is it just a simple as the idea that you are in control of nothing in your young life?"
Again, having lapsed into contemplative silence, Beryl just watches and listens to the man and boy as they converse. As before, she shields emotion in her expression as the latter spills his proverbial guts about the troubles in his life. And, as before, she occasionally twirls her cigarette holder with her tongue. Her poison green eyes flick toward Hector, meeting his gaze. She only gives the faintest, slightest hint of a knowing nod before turning her eyes toward Myrus again to listen for his reply.
Myrus tilts his head to the side a little when kittens and cats are mentioned. He's confused on that one, but no respite from the confusion today, as Hector doesn't explain what it means.
But the next sentence has his fullest attention. This got him thinking but it's cut short abruptly when the next question comes about. He really thinks on it for a minute, before saying, "I think it might be that, or a little different. Other people are trying to control me, and I'm proving they can't.. and I think they can't stand it?" He was searching for it still even while saying it. "I know I'm breaking expectations. I don't want to fall in line because they think I should be a certain person, either." Ok, a little more than just heart troubles. Problem with status queue.
— Hector is somewhat controlling the boy now, but not at least in the way that he is thinking. This point remains only in his mind as he nods along with what he is being told, his expression annoyed. However it is clear that the annoyance meant for those that Myrus describes and not directed toward the boy himself. "That settles it then I think. Wouldn't you say so too Ms Crabbe?" Hector smiles thinly again as he stands. His cigarette is put out in a nearby ashetray as he looks down at Myrus. "All kittens must become cats and you don't seem much like a house cat to me." Hector appears to think that Myrus is keen enough to understand what he is saying now and simply nods as he extends a hand to lift Beryl out of her seat. "Next time you have time away from school come to my office." That sounds more like an order than a request, but again Hector does not expand on his comments.
Even as Hector begins to wrap up his 'pleasant' little visit with his nephew, Beryl begins to snub out the remains of her Kretek in the ash tray left conveniently on their table. She then busies herself with putting away the holder and ceremoniously tucking the lighter and case back into their respective places within the recesses of her purse. "I agree entirely," she replies lightly to Hector's question with a smirk. A sidelong, almost sympathetic smile drifts toward Myrus then, as Hector takes her hand. Rising from her seat gracefully, the auburn-haired beauty appears to be ready to go whenever he is.
Myrus has no idea of anything going on in the background of this conversation. It is what it is. He nods to the kittens and cats expanded upon, but says contrary to the nod, "I think I get it." Alley cat? No, still a kitten? Bah.
Though being told to come by the office the next chance he gets away from school recieves a slower, more deliberate nod as he watches Hector and Beryl rising and just about ready to leave. He has a lot to think about now. Or at least he thinks he has a lot to think about, if you think about it for a second. Sip of cider. Nope, that didn't help his mind racing around in circles.
— Hector nods and begins to put his coat back on. As he does this he looks back at Myrus and notes the expression on his face. Much as all this might feel confusing to the young man it should simplify much of his problems. "You can't solve your problems in a night." Hector buttons up his coat and begins to tie his scarf around his neck as he adds, "You can only decide that they aren't really all that problematic." With that Hector turns and leaves with his companion in tow, allowing Myrus to return to his newspaper.