Give 'em the Ole Razzle Dazzle Solo Finished

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Date: 23 December 2020, morning
Location: Beckett Manor, London
Interacting With:
Mentioning: Ana's sucky family
The 'fit
Hex Color: #FF4080
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The Becketts were a spectacularly unpleasant bunch. The tension in the sitting room that morning was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Ana was the picture of a perfect pureblood school girl, from her immaculately crisp collar to her tightly braided hair to her rigid posture. Not a hair or thread was out of place. Her hands were clasped together tightly, the only sign that she was anything less than perfectly and utterly serene. The moment she had arrived at the train station, her aunt had mentioned in hushed tones that there were "matters of utmost importance that required her attention" and refused to say anything more. She entered the room where her uncle and Lydia already sat, her aunt trailing behind her. In a spectacular stroke of irony, Elbert and Robert weren't present, since they were neither adults nor heirs, despite the fact they were the only male Beckett descendants of their generation.

Neither Lydia nor Edward rose when Ana entered, which they were technically supposed to do, as she was, for all intents and purposes, the head of the Beckett line. Edward and Oliver's parents were long deceased, and seeing as Athena and Oliver were both otherwise occupied, Ana was somehow mostly in charge of things. Suffice it to say, none of her extended family remotely relished this truth. Edward deeply resented the fact that, due to his being born thirteen minutes after Oliver, he wasn't the heir, and Lydia was bitter for the same reasons. Delphine didn't seem to like it much either, granted she always agreed with Edward on matters of any importance. The scene was one that had played out over the centuries. Ana sat rigidly on one side of the room, facing her family. While Ana could have optimistically interpreted it as subjects paying respect to a young queen but knew a more accurate description was a bunch of vultures, at the ready to swoop in should she falter.

"About time you arrived," her uncle scoffed. Ana bit back a reply. Despite what might technically be the case in terms of Beckett family matters, Edward and Delphine were also Ana's guardians, meaning that they had at least some level of control over her. Ana's heart was racing as she waited to hear exactly what they thought was so important. While they might present a united front to the rest of the world, behind closed doors all anyone in Ana's family wanted was to tear her to bits.

"The Gala is coming up," Edward remarked cooly as if trying to feel out Ana's confidence in it. Despite the fact she had planned the bulk of it via letters from Hogwarts, she knew she had done an excellent job planning it.

"Excellent to see that you're aware of how the passing of time works," Ana said, her temper and sharp tongue winning over her self control as it so often did. Whether she liked it or not, she desperately needed her family's allegiance and support. Somehow, she doubted comments like that were helping the matter.

"Petulant as ever," Lydia cooed, earning a glance from her father that shut her right up. "With the Gala being the first event that your parents'absence will be impossible to ignore, we have come to an agreement for what anyone outside this room is permitted to know," Edward continued, eyes boring into Ana's. Ana met his and felt her stomach turn. While he wasn't her father, the two were identical, meaning that Ana was staring into the face that haunted most of her nightmares. The lack of her father's mannerisms somehow didn't calm her or stop her mind from darting back to what had happened the last time she'd been in this room with both of her parents. How her father had so flippantly cast her out and her mother had stood by. "As you know, your mother succumbed to dragon pox. Your father was so heartbroken that he fled the magical world altogether, leaving you, his poor unprepared daughter, in our care with countless responsibilities."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ana demanded incredulously, standing suddenly. Her composure that she had fought so hard to gain had fled as her mind began to whirl. While the truth of what had happened to her parents was still murky, this was clearly not it. Does the truth mean nothing?" Jaded as she might be, having grown up in the world she did, she still believed that the truth held power. That it was something important. She wasn't naive enough to think that it was always the answer, but she wanted to believe that it was more often than not.

"Anastasia, Sit. DOWN," Edward said, a dangerous edge slipping into his voice. The three words took her back five months to the last time she had heard a man bearing that face utter that phrase. She hadn't then, and look what had happened. Her dark eyes bore into his for a moment, and then, just as suddenly as she'd stood, Ana took her seat again.

"We can't just lie -" she began, desperately trying and failing to keep her tone even. "We can, and we shall. You're thinking as though you're a foolish child. Whether or not you are a child, we cannot afford for you to be a fool," Edward interjected. Ana's jaw tightened and her fists clenched. She was many things - impulsive, overconfident, vain, but she was not a fool.

"Does the truth mean nothing to you?" Ana said, her eyes blazing and tone trembling slightly. "Because this is nothing more than you spinning a tale that fits your ambitions and strokes your ego." Her voice rose again as she spoke and Edward started slightly as if to stand or stride across the room. Ana flinched. Hard. She hated that she did, hated the instincts that caused the motion, hated the memory that triggered it even more.

"You truly are a fool and I weep that the Beckett line shall be sullied by such," Edward spat, pretenses of civility abandoned. "The truth is one version of a tale, and in this instance, that version could irreparably harm not only us but the Beckett name. Our version suits us better and is a better story to tell. Athena is dead and Oliver may as well be. The details of why are superfluous, the result is the same. And we both know that your self righteous blather about truth is just that. If you truly cared, you've had more than enough time to share it. If you have nothing else to say on the matter, I would like to discuss the matter of your betrothal. But first, the guestlist for the Gala. Normally, I would level such subjects to you, but seeing as your selections are questionable at best, I've decided to step in. I haven't the vaguest idea what would possess you to degrade the Gala and Beckett name by inviting Mudbloods and half-"

"It's my Gala, in my Manor, I'll invite who I please. Furthermore, if I hear that term, from you or your pathetic children, you'll find yourselves promptly disinvited from all Beckett properties and events," Ana interrupted, still trembling with anger at his words. If she was expected to invite all of Pureblood high society, the least she was entitled to was a friend or two to support her. And if those friends happened not to be purebloods, then bully for them! Could she technically do what she had threatened? She had heard her father threaten her uncle with it more than once, so she liked to believe she could. "If you'll excuse me, I think I shall go purchase a yacht before I depart for Christmas. Vastly more pleasant than whatever this is."

"Sit down, blood traitor, Edward said, his voice lowering like her father's voice as well as her own did when angry. His voice shook ever so slightly, indicating that Ana might just have had the power to do what she had threatened. "This isn't your silly little schoolgirl fights. This is a matter of the utmost importance, you don't get to decide not to listen-"

"I've been called far worse by people whose opinions I value far more," Ana said breezily at the insult he had tried so hard and failed to fling. Considering the term she'd had at school, she had learned to let insults hurt less. If the worst thing Edward had to say about her was that she associated with muggle-borns, she was certain she could survive. After that comment, Ana ignored his words and her shaking legs as she briskly pulled on her coat and grabbed her handbag. How could people who scoffed at truth be so insistent upon the outdated and quite frankly offensive beliefs? From Ana's observations, they were just plain wrong. In any event, there were so many other valid reasons to look down upon people, reasons that they could control. For instance, the fact that her uncle was a pathetic, bitter man who had done nothing with his life other than resent not being born 13 minutes earlier.

She would likely need to stop by the bank before buying a yacht. How did one buy a yacht anyway? She'd always liked the idea of one but hadn't the faintest idea of how to acquire one. She would just have to figure it out. That was definitely a line of thought she would rather focus on than the many troubling topics her family had mentioned.

A few hours later, Ana was on her way home, the proud owner of a rather spectacular yacht. Her Christmas present to herself. Now, to get in and out of the manor without dealing with her family...