closed Core II PV

Most people who knew her would have been surprised to learn that Dee had been avoiding Pericles for the past two days. She was notoriously outspoken, some might even say confrontational, yet the unexpected turn of their conversation in the duelling club on Friday had sent her running without a glance backwards, snapping at her unsuspecting friend in her panic, and the weight of guilt had only settled in her stomach after she'd reached her dormitory that evening. Truly, this particular topic was likely the only thing that would have provoked this reaction from her, so it was no surprise that it had startled both of them.

Less excusable was the fact that instead of going back and apologising to Peri the next day, she'd started going out of her way to avoid him. She just didn't know what to say, how to explain it. Didn't want him asking more questions, offering help like a good friend in finding answers that she wasn't sure she wanted.

So roughly thirty-nine hours later she was fleeing the Ravenclaw breakfast table, except Pericles had apparently decided he wasn't having it anymore. Dee, rang his voice through the small hall behind her, and while she might have still ignored this, Peri knew her well enough to be aware of which buttons to push and levers to pull. Dealla, was more insistent and impossible to ignore, the sound of her name crawling down her back unpleasantly. Making it worse, she couldn't even be mad at him for it.

So she stopped, and turned, shoulders tense and mouth downturned. "Hi," she replied unhappily, searching for the words she'd wanted to say since she'd fled from the duelling room on Friday, but Peri wasn't as much as taking a pause to breathe. He'd written to his father after all, he said, and in the same breath forestalled Dee's outburst of indignation and anger with the promise that he hadn't read it. That it was hers to read, if she wanted to.

Four sentences that left her emotionally whiplashed, jerked back and forth from guilt to outrage to a strange, uncomfortable mix of curiosity and fear, staring at the letter that was thrust in her direction as if it was a poisonous snake that might bite her after a wrong move.

And she might have gone on staring at it, limbs locked in place like prey in front of a predator, and for once she was the former not the latter. The only thing that got her moving - one of the few things that could have gotten her moving at all - was the mumbled plea that followed after, the request for forgiveness when that should have been her line. Delivered with more petulance and reluctance perhaps, but her line nonetheless. "I'm not mad at you," she replied, startled, her eyes flickering from the envelope in her friend's hands to his face. "You're not... you didn't do anything wrong." Except the letter, maybe. Yet she did want answers. Didn't she?

The hesitance was unlike her, but she couldn't quite make herself reach for the envelope Pericles was still holding. "Why did you do this?" she wanted to know.

@Pericles Dralt

There was, of course, something wrong, as Pericles had so keenly noted. There was no sarcasm in that statement, either - everything to do with her grandparents had felt wrong lately, and even Dee couldn't have narrowed it down further. That was part of the issue - not knowing what was wrong. Worse, not knowing if she wanted to know what was wrong. So she just gave a quick, sharp nod in response, biting her lip and watching her friend as he fidgeted. Dealla was stiff by comparison, tension radiating, fists clenched.

But her lips curved into a smile at his explanation, bright and honest, for a moment chasing away the discomfort in her expression. She raised her hands in surrender, not even trying to protest. "I did," she admitted. "But it's not because you're not my friend. Or because we're friends by accident." She grinned. "Although I couldn't wish for a better accidental friend, that doesn't mean I don't choose to be your friend, too." She waved a hand vaguely. "You think I'd bother being accidental friends with someone unless they were, like, really awesome? I do have standards."

The amusement in her face faded as her eyes dropped back to the letter. "So it's not... you." It's me were the words that wanted to follow, but she swallowed them down, moving her shoulders as if to get rid of an itch. "I've never talked to my grandparents," she explained quietly. "I don't know them. I only know what my parents told me, and going by that, I didn't want to know them." Her gaze remained fixed on the envelope, conflict playing across her features. She'd kept the letters a secret, had never talked about them to anyone. They were all hidden in her trunk. "They started sending me letters last year," she continued, her voice growing even fainter. "They said that my parents lied." A short pause, then her eyes flickered up to Peri's face, expression uncertain, even pleading. "What if that's true?"

@Pericles Dralt

Dee was a Charmer alright. She always seemed to know what to say, even when they were young, dispelling Peri's distress with a clever comment and a warm grin. The worried look on his face started to smooth away, with the boy even allowing himself a mollified smile. When she spoke of her standards, he drew a short sniff and nodded, mumbling "Oh, right. I suppose that's true. I do make decent company."

Pericles appeared to recover considerably once convinced his Intentional Friend wasn't angry at him. There was still the trouble of discerning what Dee was bothered by, though, so he hung on her admission, listening with a faint furrow of the forehead. His expressions shifted visibly from concern, to curiosity, and on to- was that recognition? No, more specifically, an odd excitement. He could relate. "They said that my parents lied. What if that's true?" "Yes but, what if it's not?" Pericles waved the envelope, gesturing idly as he spoke, coming to stand in arm's reach once she stopped looking at the letter like it was venomous. "My mum never told me much about her parents, either, except that they weren't kind to her, so she cut them out of her life. Mine's been just fine without them. Better, likely." Being a massive mama's boy might have skewed his perspective some, but he spoke with absolute confidence that anyone unkind to Mrs. Dralt deserved exile.

This blasé acceptance would backfire tremendously a few years from this moment, but that was a problem for Future Pericles. Current Pericles was completely content to go along with his parents' perspective on things, and so he held up the letter once more, features softened with the will to console Dee in any way he could. "Da's a harsh judge of character. He's a neutral party in all this, too. He might have said something to help tell what's truth, and once you've decided, we can mail a dungbomb to your grandparents. Or your parents. Or both, for letting you be ensnared in unresolved family drama." Pear smirked encouragingly at that, though frowned again as he realized aloud, "Your parents don't know about the letters, do they...?"

@Dealla Prince

Dee huffed, the amusement still glinting in her eye for a moment longer. "Better than decent, Peri. Are you trying to insult me?" A backwards sort of compliment, but no less genuine for being tied into a joke. She was reasonably certain Pericles wouldn't stand for anyone insulting her, least of all himself, and he'd better attach some of that confidence to himself.

But that didn't make it any easier for her to talk about the situation with her grandparents, and with her parents, out loud. Or maybe it did, considering Peri was the first person she was telling about it at all. Her worries and her doubts, and the guilt curling in her stomach for doubting at all. But what if it's not? Truly, what if it wasn't? If she was doubting her parents for no reason at all. She was feeling like a bad daughter already.

So Dealla clung to Peri's words with hope, trying, wanting to believe that it would be that easy to sort it out, and that her worries had been for nothing, and no one would have to know. The dungbomb idea made her smile, at least. So she took a deep breath, then held out a hand for the letter. "Okay. Okay. That make sense. Sounds like a solid plan." She bent her fingers, beckoning. "Give it here, before I change my mind."

But she seemed to shrink a bit, shoulders drawing in and up, at Pericles' last comment. "No," she admitted, nose wrinkling. "Not yet."