Shooting the Messenger PV Alexx

Alexx didn't like the owlery. It was dark and smelled like owl shit. Had her brothers not demanded quite fiercely that she keep steady contact between them all, especially given the custody battle and the scary thought that she may have to transfer to Ilvermorny where he cousin, Macaire, went, she needed to be kept up on the latest family drama. It was the bane of her existence, but she elected not to get an owl and to instead spend a few extra coins on a useless lint ball, she had to take the trip of the flight of stairs once a week to owl off her response. Letter in hand, she shuffled up, only to be stopped by a cat.

"Everything alright?" She asked the slightly familiar face of the owner, Xai... Xa... Something that started with the "z" sound. A Gryffindor. Prefect. Third-year. Owned of a fat cat. She was many things, something which Alexx could relate to. Also quite scary, but perhaps in a more beautiful and charming way than some might perceive her as. The blonde Slytherin was sure that wasn't what she was aiming for, if she was aiming for anything at all, but hey, it was still true. Noticing her predicament, Alexx piped up once more.

"Ah... Rather pathetic creature. No offense." Chuckling to herself, she shook her head, and then started forward again. "Best of luck getting it up the stairs. Looks like a chore." She did notice the letter that was clutched in the palm of the girl's hand, but Alexx was not about to offer her assistance. She was capable and perhaps the girl needed it, but Alexx wasn't the type to give a damn.

Her slender fingers dug into his fleshy grey sides. Oh man, what did he eat? A brick? For some reason Schrödinger just seemed so much heavier than usual. Maybe it was because he just went entirely limp, as a stubborn attempt to make him harder to move. He could be an absolute butt sometimes; there was no doubt, he was doing this just so it would be harder for people to get by. "Yeah, everything is fine." She huffed, as she turned to face a blonde Slytherin.

She knew the girl- well sort of, more like she knew of the blonde. She was quite certain they shared a class or two in the past. But she wasn't quite sure. She saw tons of faces in a single day, coming, and going. As a metamorph, she was quite good with faces, however at the end of the day, they all kind of blurred together, anyways. And while she didn't exactly recognize the Slytherins face right away, she did recognize her voice.

"My apologies." She gestured to the cat blocking the path, before stooping to move him away. She gently pulled him to the side, he allowed himself to be dragged through crusted owl shit, as she did so. Gross. He was going to need a bath later. "None taken. He really is pathetic." She chortled. It was true. Schrödinger was quite pathetic, but his charm made up for his pathetic nature. He was lucky he wasn't born a human- his charm would not have saved him then.

She snorted in response to the Slytherins remark. "You're telling me. I really don't have time for his crap right now." She waived the letter that was in her hand. "This needs to be sent out immediately." She began shuffling up the stairs, leaving the fat feline on the steps below. The owlery was a horrible place. Really. It was musty, and the birds? The birds were absolutely bat-shit crazy.

Almost every time she had gone to the Olwery to send a letter- which was unsurprisingly, not often considering her parents didn't write to her much anymore; she had been attacked by an owl. The Gryffindor eventually figured that Schrödinger, was the one upsetting the owls, and causing them to react violently- yet she still brought him on owlery trips. The prefect wasn't scared of the owls because of their aggressive behavior, she mostly found them annoying. Every time she needed something sent out, she had to wrestle an owl down from its perch. Now that, was a chore.

"Do you have any?- Pathetic creatures, I mean." She snickered, as she checked, to make sure that she had everything in order. Small talk. It wasn't something she particularly cared to do. She was mostly unaware of the fact that, she did try to engage in small conversations- mostly taking part in them, because that was the proper thing to do; at least, from what she had been told by her family.

Her feet shifted uncomfortably beneath her. Was Xailah insinuating that Alexx should send the letter? She understood social cues, and Xailah was giving them just fine, but Alexx wouldn't budge unless something prompted her to. "Just Rosalie, my pymgy puff. The little devil is always escaping, preferring Reid or Scott over me. It's sad, honestly." She shrugged, but left it at that.

"What's so urgent about the letter, anyway?" The French girl pried, though she didn't want to say outright what she was thinking: who did Xailah have to write to in the first place? Not that Alexx had room to talk, her family was beyond broken, but Xailah was... Strange. In an intriguing way, mostly. In a way that made Alexx wonder about her personal life and what went on behind the scenes. It wasn't so much that what Xailah did or who she was mattered to Alexx, but she was the strangest person (next to Kaegen Deathmote) at Hogwarts, so yeah, Alexx was curious.

But she wouldn't pry harder than that. If Xailah wanted to tell her, she would. If she didn't, that was also fine. It was none of the Slytherin's business to begin with, and she truly had no right to ask. But that was just her life, wasn't it? Prying where she shouldn't, being inappropriate and ill-timed, all in the name of gossip. That was what Alexx thrived off of.

The metamorph stiffened at the mention of a Pygmy Puff; her back was turned to the flaxen-haired child, but if she were to face the girl, the blonde would see an mixed expression of fear, and utter disgust begin to creep across the Gryffindors face. Escaping? Her golden gaze darted around frantically, as if she was searching for the creature- which she was. Could something so small, and pathetic find its way to the owlery? She didn't want to find out- actually no, she did. She shot the girl a paranoid look, to see if the Slytherin had the little creature hiding somewhere on her person. "Disgusting little creatures don't you think?"

She had never liked the little things, and never would like them. She hated them. Hated the way they smelt, hated the noises they made- and most of all, she hated the dumb glassy-eyed, looks they gave you. "Its not with you right now- is it...?" She bit her lip in mild discomfort. "Sssorry its just that, I have never been a fan of the things." She perked, still looking for any signs of the critter. Her little sister- Meadow, used to own one of the animals. It got out multiple times. One night it escaped from its confinements, and gave the young metamorph a wet willy. It was not a pleasant experience.

Recalling this distant memory, brought a grimace to the brunettes face. "Anyways- Uh, yes the letter." She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the previous thoughts about Pygmy Puffs. "Its just has some very important notes, pertaining to a sssubject that some others, as well as myself have been researching." She scanned the row of perched owls looking for a willing candidate, but there were seemingly none to be found. The majority of the, lobs of feathers, were all huddled in the highest coops. They looked down in a taunting manner, with their large mirrory eyes. "I need this letter delivered today. But it looks like at the rate this is going, I'll be waiting till tomorrow to send it." She bit down on the tip of one of her gloves. "That damn Masquerade messed everything up." She murmured. It was true though, not only had it seriously messed up some students, but it had also thrown everything off-kilter.