@Astrea Soleil Neptune

Ana laughed again at Astrea's words, sounding far more ladylike as her dark eyes scanned the scene before her. It was perfectly unique and remarkably unremarkable. To anyone who hadn't been brought up in this world, it would seem like a lovely, pleasant afternoon, but for Ana, it felt like a vice grip. When had this all become so stifling to her? There was a time in fairly recent memory when this would have mattered to her when it would have represented a rare chance to please her parents. Now it had become like more than a background for Ana's cold war with her parents.

She had once read someone pondering the question of what exactly occurred when an unstoppable force and an unmovable wall met. Ana's parents were the definition of an immovable wall in every way. Practically every generation of Becketts was a carbon copy of the ones before them and her parents were no different. The Beckett linage was had roots as far back as they had been able to look and it seemed Ana's future was set in stone. Ana was a force of nature, there was no question about it. With neither party ready to surrender, who knew how any of that would end?

Disgust filled her as she glanced about. Her parents weren't exactly quiet when exchanging gossip when Ana was intended to be sleeping, and as a result, Ana knew far more about the shady underside of her world. It wasn't just a choreographed dance, it was a subtle battle. If anything, that made Ana's outlook worse. While she was something of a mean girl at school, her time was generally filled with other, more interesting and productive activities. The idea of a life full of false laughter and counterfeit friends surrounded by all the finery in the world terrified her and she didn't see a way out. Because, as much disdain as she held for this world, it was her world, and she didn't think she would actually leave if given the chance.

"Somehow, I think after the last term, most things would seem uneventful," Ana mused. There was nothing like Hogwarts. Sure, there was the occasional fear for her life, but the vitality that all the students shared because of that was unmatched. She couldn't comprehend how her parents were able to go from that to this. "Speaking of, what electives are you planning for next year?" The idea of electives thrilled Ana, and she was determined to take them all. Well, she wasn't particularly determined to take Divination, but her parents were, so that was decided. The entire idea of Divination seemed to be rather pointless to her, as she had a basic idea of what her future would look like. Still, with everything else that was causing tension in the Beckett household, signing up for a boring class to drink tea was a sacrifice Ana was willing to make if it brought a bit of peace.

As Ana watched the partygoers flit about like colorful birds, her thoughts drifted to Jasmine. She rather wished she could set her kitten loose in the garden if just to see the stuck-up aristocrats' reactions to having tea spilled all over then. While she loved her cat more than anything, she would be the first to admit that Jaz's behavior left much to be desired. Sadly, she knew that her parents would likely be irritated with Jaz, and after all the wheedling that it had taken to obtain her in the first place, Ana wasn't willing to take that risk for a silly prank.

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word count 728 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence, lovely creature
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mentions @Anastasia Beckett, Lrd+Ldy Beckett, Neptune, Chou

The further they were getting from the Lords and Ladies, the easier it felt to speak. Of course, Astrea was not one to speak in great length in the first place- not one to go on great tangents over the few things she was passionate about- but it eased her mind to know that every syllable that spilled from her mouth would not make her subject of her father's cold disapproval or her mother's condescending instruction. She lived on the edge of a knife, tentatively crossing a tightrope of propriety and misbehavior in which she only knew a fraction of her family line's censure, even less of their validation. The mere thought of rebellion was enough to remind her of the poor creatures within Magical Menagierie- all she had done was walk in and they had shrunk back, culled into silent submission without a single word-, and then of the people who would frequent her father's lecture room.

A lull in conversation. When you thought about it- and Astrea's mind spun with information constantly, a stream of logic and confusion so lengthy that it often made her pitiful attempts at expressing herself pale in comparison- Astrea was everything but the bold spitfire that was Ana in front of her. There was bitterness hidden within the Beckett heir's pleasant expression as the other pondered over something or another, a resentful feeling that had plagued her own guilty conscious more than once. The Slytherin was the calm before the storm, the ever aloof child, difficult to interact with only out of her too-passive nature and even more so to befriend. How ironic it was, to pair them together in such a shared situation, for by temperament alone they were two sides of a coin. She couldn't forget the Blossom Ball, after all. What a disastrous plan.

Daily life in Hogwarts was chaos, challenge and calm all at once, a storybook conflict's caricature of an interest grab. You would think that the dangers of the school would weaken after the years, but it only seemed more perilous as time went by. There were times when, in the quiet clutch of night, Astrea would do what she did best and overthink. Overthink and wonder- while the life of a wix at the Scottish school of magic was a perilous one and lingering trauma ran rampant every time, it merely folded into many people's lives after a while. Morale kept stubbornly strong, it was almost foolish. "One would expect." But that was not a subject for today. No, no, today was a day for acting just as prettily polite as expected, not to drag behind the added baggage. "Hm, elective choices?" What a good question to ask, a good question to change the subject with. From a gentle tidbit of gossip to true school speak, the idea suddenly became much more normal- as if they were regular students speaking of regular subjects and not two pureblood heirs conversing about hypocritical high court life.

Astrea would be a liar to claim that she hadn't been pondering over the idea early on since the year's end. Well, her parents had been thinking over electives since summer began and it was very difficult to avoid the topic when at least part of her budding duty was to make the family proud while away as many had before her. By this point, her daily visits with the both of them had turned into distracted lectures from their perspective. Her mother had taken what was the equivalent of divination- difficult to excel at unless you truly could connect with the concept of it, not very useful for the most part- and the thought of it truly didn't appeal. Considering the testiness most animals had around her, CoMC wouldn't end very well either. The idea of only three options to choose from was mildly irritating, for she hadn't immediate connection to any of them or anything. Ugh. "Perhaps Ancient Runes. What say you?" Not necessarily the most practical, but the concept certainly meshed better with her method of learning and her father had praised the class enough to make it noteworthy. She could scour through the family libraries for old, untranslated books to practice. Maybe it was telling that the dull task appealed to her more than the complications of human interaction, but it mattered little what others thought of her as long as they did not impede her state of living.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune

Astrea confused Ana to no end. For Ana, her life at home and her life at school were two wildly different things. Neither invalidated the others or was a lie, but there was definitely a difference. Being with her parents in Pureblood society was comparable to Ana's dancing en pointe. She balanced precariously, on the verge of falling at every moment, and nothing less than perfection was acceptable. Not only did she have to be perfect, but she also had to make it look effortless and graceful. She loved the precise and meticulous nature of ballet, but in her life, it was smothering. Being at school with her friends was more like Quidditch. It was freer and the only thing really limited her was the sky. While Quidditch felt more natural, the two were both a part of her. She couldn't do them at the same time though and she was a completely different person at home than at school.

Maybe different wasn't the right word, but more restrained. She strove for perfection normally, but she was able to have fun doing so at school. At home, she could hardly breathe without criticism. Her room wasn't the safe place her dorm at Hogwarts was either. Despite the fact she shared her dorm with people she didn't entirely trust, it truly felt like home, with her decorations and the overall comfort of it. At home, her bedroom felt more like a cage than a safe haven. Not a bit of it felt like home, not to mention her parents came and went from it as they pleased. Save the going to an unsanctioned, curfew breaking event and getting into a fight, Astrea's behavior seemed very similar to her behavior at Hogwarts.

Ana wished she had the restraint to be the daughter her parents wanted all the time and a part of her envied Astrea for appearing to be just that. Doing what she wanted at Hogwarts made spending time with her parents feel even more like choking. It didn't matter what she did, they always demanded more. She had been able to live with it for the first decade or so, but once she had gone to Hogwarts and really had the chance to figure out who she was rather than who her parents wanted her to be, the level of suffocation had been exacerbated.

Ana smiled slightly at Astrea's remark of agreement before listening as the Slytherin appeared to contemplate the question at hand for a moment. Her letters to and from friends were her only lifeline to Hogwarts and what she really wanted to be doing, so seeing Astrea and having a conversation that could have very well occurred in the Great Hall or the Courtyard was comforting. Ana's balancing act was becoming more and more difficult as she got older and it was nice to be able to rest for a moment.

"The idea of Ancient Runes is greatly intriguing although my parents are more in favor of Divination," Ana said mildly, managing to keep the irritation from leaking through her voice. Alternating with arguments on the matter of her betrothal, arguments about her electives had filled Beckett Manor. Ancient Runes was somewhat respectable, but Ana's insistence upon Muggle Studies had been yet another ongoing battle in a larger war. Her father in particular had had some choice words about dirtying blood and destroying pureblood culture. Her mother hadn't been much help in the matter, having just commented on how obstinate Ana was being and demanding to know if she was determined to sully the Beckett name. "Muggle Studies also sounds most instructional."

While she had grown up with her parents' purist views presented as normal, she had already come to the conclusion that those weren't the entire truth. She had met some lovely Muggle-borns and Half-bloods and based on the world she lived in, it seemed foolish to ignore Muggle culture altogether.

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interactions @Anastasia Beckett
word count 839 | text colour #274E13
abilities terrible presence, lovely creature
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Astrea lived on duty and fixed regularity. Before Hogwarts and now during, she dipped back into the structured life she partook in over and over as if Achilles dangled from the heel- a child held from the heart and placed into the program she called regular. A habitual schedule to run the day on, from well before dawn to well after dark with only a few lapses. The smell of azaleas and smoky incense in between letters and lectures and lessons to learn, material new and old worn into familiar grooves of memorization. The dull satisfaction of permissibility to speak, routine scripting her responses in conversations long before the conversation conducted. Not necessarily predictable as it was dependable, it made it so that things were tests and life a classroom. It made it so that it was easy to tell when things go wrong.

But unfortunately, it didn't seem that the attitude she had adopted along the years- bounced between the utter stillness of home and the great noise of celebrations- reached quite as far as she had expected. Anastasia, full of great spite and individuality for an old pureblooded next-in-line, was unpredictable. If the Blossom Ball said anything, unpredictable with a dash of dangerous self-sacrificial foolishness disguised as bravery. An extra dose of adaptability would need to be used in order to even watch the Gryffindor princess, more to last in interaction.

It had just been slightly over a week since they had left the halls of Hogwarts and shed their titles as second-years, just slightly over a week to attempt at adjusting. How peculiar, to speak with Anastasia without the backdrop of age-darkened stone and flickering candlelight- without the connections of house loyalty or the constant grip of danger in between false trappings of peace. The other looked to be in decent enough health amongst fragrant flowers and delicate cakes. Decent. Fine. Not miserable. Er, not outwardly miserable. She would never entertain the idea that her companion would get any more suitable for the pureblooded life as any other, in part for disdain of rejection and in part because the mere thought of it sounded off. Just because they were among the company of elder respectability over academic contestability didn't mean that the knives they have made their wit to be had dulled, only sharpened in different places.

The Gryffindor didn't seem quite as relaxed as the few times Astrea had ever seen her previously- though, to be fair those occasions were not the most stress-free. The mincing walk they shared appeared somewhat strange in comparison to her memories of the usual self-confident stalking she was so used to. Oh, do not get her wrong, they were just as perfect as one would expect from a girl of such rank and age- but the mildness of airbrushed femininity alongside embroidered white and clipped greenery scraped interestingly with such a powerful thought as Anastasia Beckett. Firey in both actions and temperament, it felt more appropriate to liken the impulsive girl to a bouquet of trampled flowers- prickled thorns and all- than a dainty dove. Or perhaps Astrea was merely a sentimental child, too entranced with observance over interaction.

A hum of appropriate interest left Astrea at Ana's easy sentence, knowing all too well- if perhaps in a different conveyance- the frustration of parental pressure in regards to decision making. They may have once walked in their shoes but acknowledging that the Lord and Lady weighted matters unfairly without criticism would make even the most patient of saints dejected. "Both honourable decisions. Hopefully, an agreement can be made." A slip of truth in that hope, a rare thing in the midst of half-lies and small talk. If they were to stray any closer to a chatting group of genteel, she was sure that any and all conversation conducted would be as if walking across interacting tightropes. Pay attention to where you toed the lines, don't look down lest you stumble and fall, lest you remove yourself from the wordless competition of wits.

"Instructional, perhaps. Less so approved." An unfortunate fact of their positions. Considering the high amount of students they schooled alongside who grew up Sparkless-drenched- whether by blood or culture, it was the same- you would think that being better educated on their ways would be beneficial. But alas, the ways of tradition ran as deep as their family roots. Astrea could take as many mental notes of body language and overheard comments as she wanted but to waste so much time dedicated to studying muggle history and inventions was useless. Not when the school year was already so limited, not when she could partake in such indulgences during her free time. Free time that would quickly drop in quantity as she grew- ah, how unmotivating.

A fact of life. A future in which they were destined to be the hostesses rather than the attendees. A future expected. Oh, Astrea would be a very bad hostess indeed, with what her personality. For Ana, she was less sure of.