Pack! on Alumni

Jean Wolfe

March 01, 2021 8:50 PM

Pack! by Jean Wolfe

Jean was not highly familiar with public portkey stations. He had gone abruptly from being too rich to need to worry about them (it would be the height of rudeness to expect someone to be somewhere and not offer them the means to get there quickly and easily) to too poor and isolated to need to worry about them. The one time he had used one was when going to Greece with Dorian. He tried not to let that memory bang too hard against the front of his mind as he waited. That had been different. A different place. Going instead of waiting in arrivals. The big ball of grief which had collided with his heart at the slightest provocation had shrunk considerably since November. He was starting to be able to rationalise things away, to find the ways they were unlike his situation with Dorian, and to care less, even when they were.

He still felt bad that his visitors had to travel this way, and that he wasn’t going to be able to do more to play host to them. But this seemed to be normal to them, even if he felt that the portkey station, standing as one anonymous face in a jostling crowd, might be the most depressing place he’d been in a while, excluding his own home. But anyway, it wasn’t like Killian didn’t already know… Unsurprisingly, his medical report had prompted a visit from his friend. That involved talking things through. Talking things through involved crying, and as Jean would rather do that in private, it meant letting Killian in, letting him peer into all the messy corners of his sad and broken life. He couldn’t hide that he’d lost weight. He couldn’t hide that he lived above the shop he worked in, fitting himself in amongst various stored boxes, or that one wall dripped and oozed and that there seemed to be no charms on earth (or at least none that anyone was willing to lay out the money for) that stopped it. He had at least been able to provide some homemade chicken and vegetable soup to go with the bread that Killian had brought, and to prove that he wasn’t one hundred percent an incompetent disaster.

He had hoped that getting some of that out of the way before the summer would mean that this visit could be filled with nicer things. He could show Killian and Bonabelle (and the girlfriend? She was coming, and that was fine, but Killian had also assured him that she could amuse herself if he didn’t feel like hanging out with her) around the nicer parts of his life. He could give them a campus tour. They could take picnics to the park. They could do all the touristy stuff that he didn’t do cos he lived here (and was busy and broke) and it would be a chance for everything to feel good.

Not that everything felt bad any more. It was nice to be able to say that. He hoped he looked better too. He was probably still a little leaner than when Bonabelle had last seen him, but hopefully a bit better than when Killian had.

He was undecided yet whether to introduce them to the handful of people that were around for the summer. Part of him wanted to, wanted to bring together all the good parts of his life and let them love each other, and let Killian see that he was well looked-after. But he wasn’t sure that exposing Bonabelle to a bunch of slightly rowdy queer college kids was exactly being a good influence, or whether that was how any of them wanted to spend their vacation time. He just wanted to prove that his life wasn’t completely sad and empty, contrary to present appearances

A portkey had clearly arrived, though it was too early for it to be the one he was waiting for. He had been anxious to not be late. He hung back and watched. He watched people come out, some of them bustling off alone, but many of them being met by waiters like him. And the place transformed. There was hugging, and happiness, and squealing. It felt sort of strange, getting to see a sliver of so many other people’s happiness. The waiters weren’t just waiters any more, they weren’t just anonymous faces because everyone here was someone to someone arriving.

And he was going to be someone. He had been excited, and nervous, for his visitors’ arrival, but he hadn’t realised how much it was going to make him feel like someone. He had friends here, he had a life here, he wasn’t just a face that slipped through a crowd unnoticed but it was different with people who’d known him before. And he was going to get a part of this happiness that was going round. He wasn’t stuck on the outside, looking in like he was so often right now – with love, with family, he just always had to be on the sidelines, trying not to be lonely or resentful that other people had something he didn’t.

The signs of the rough time he’d had recently were still there, but they lessened as he waited. As the time got nearer and nearer for them to come, his eyes got brighter, and he could feel his patronus, which had been asleep for a very long time, lift up its head and wag its tail expectantly. More people tumbled out. They should be there.. They were gonna be there, right? He hadn’t missed them? They hadn’t missed- THERE THEY WERE!!!!

He bounced in place, as if his height didn’t make him easy enough to spot. Bonabelle got to him first, and he scooped up her into the air (she wasn’t too old for that right? Someone had let her grow an awful lot. But he wanted to hug her as much as he could and… well, he was all the way up here so…). He gave her les bises, and squeezed her tightly, her feet dangling off the floor, and only put her down because Killian had caught up to them. He got jumped on and got les bises too, and it was possibly a bit of a surprise to both of them, seeing as the last time they’d seen him, he had been awkward and a bit hedgy about whether hugs were okay, but to him this was how you greeted close people and they were close people and he’d sort of forgotten that he hadn’t habitually done that to them before.

He stopped bouncing, and scooped them both into a hug, one that involved him sort of flopping onto Killian and trying to be a little bit smaller than he really was, whilst reaching a spare arm out for Bonabelle, and then it turned out that stopping bouncing had been a very bad idea because his emotions needed to apparently overflow somehow, and if he wasn’t going to demonstrate it by bouncing, then his eyes apparently thought it was their turn. He buried his head even more firmly into Killian’s shoulder for a moment whilst he got them to behave.

“You are come to see me,” he mumbled happily. Not his life. Not the messy parts of his apartment, or even the good things but him. They were here to see him

13 Jean Wolfe Pack! 1506 1 5

Killian Row

March 02, 2021 7:28 PM

Aooooo!! by Killian Row

Killian had an Ema with him so he didn't quite go sprinting at his friend, but he basically sort of did anyway. The arrived to the Portkey station and Bonabelle was off immediately, beating her uncle to Jean-Loup which seemed fair since Killian had seen him more recently. Killian tugged excitedly at Ema's hand, pulling them both forward until they were close enough that it seemed reasonable to let go and embrace Jean-Loup himself. It was hard to say whether Killian or Jean-Loup was more bouncy about it but Killian was maybe a bit more reserved about it and it mostly showed in his exuberant grin more than anything. He put all the warmth of a fresh loaf of bread and a sleeping potion after a long day into his hug, wishing he could fix the world for his friend, especially when he was suddenly a bit damp and suspected his friend needed it. A hug would have to do.

"Of course we are," Bonabelle responded, beating her uncle to the punch for the second time. Killian chuckled, not intending to use the words of course himself since it obviously wasn't obvious to Jean-Loup, but he was thinking them. "We love you, silly," she added. Killian's heart gave a lurch of pride and wonder and he hoped that Jean-Loup could feel that too and know just how special he was.

"We are here to see you," he added softly, making it a promise and a reassurance. When they all broke apart, Killian gestured at Ema since introductions were in order. "This is Ema," Killian began, smiling with his whole body at his girlfriend. "And this is Jean-Loup. And now all the most important people in my life are together," he beamed, ignoring Bonabelle rolling her eyes since the girl looked pleased despite herself.

"You're so squishy, Uncle Killian," she muttered, giving Jean-Loup a look that Killian was pretty sure meant it was an insult and a compliment. He wasn't mad about it either way.

22 Killian Row Aooooo!! 1450 0 5

Jean Wolfe

March 03, 2021 6:10 AM

Such awooo. Much love. by Jean Wolfe

They loved him. They loved him, and of course they were here, and they loved him so much that he was silly for not knowing it. It was reassuring to know that he was so clearly meant to know this. He knew about friend love. He had some friends here who had assured him he was loved when he was having a very bad time, but there were also certain kinds of love (parental love, and let’s-fall-in-love-and-never-look-back kind of love) which weren’t supposed to end but which had, and… and it was just very good to know that someone here was very sure. And not just any someone; an Aladren.

“I love you too both also,” he replied, pretty sure that he had doubled up on a word there but it was still better than trying to work with ‘two’ and ‘too.’

He stayed buried against Killian’s neck for a moment more, glad he didn’t seem to be pressuring him to be ready to meet a new person right away. He had a lot of practise at stuffing big feelings away where they weren’t bothering anyone, but he didn’t really want to use it right now. He wanted to feel his feelings, although he still only let himself do it for a moment because there was a point at which he was going to become an irrevocable soggy mess and he wasn’t quite ready for that to happen in public, so he swallowed down that part and blinked until he was presentable, and straightened up to meet Ema.

She obviously wasn’t hug territory. And though a year had done a lot to bend and break his speech habits, his mannerisms, and his sense of the world, it was hard not to snap back to familiar habits when unsure how to handle a situation. It perhaps seemed faintly ridiculous after the display of unguarded physical affection he’d offered the two Rows, but he wasn’t even really aware until he’d done it.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss…” he trailed off, realising that he both hadn’t been given a surname, and that he had also given a slight bow – a point that was further underlined by the fact that the girlfriend had held out her hand to shake at the exact same moment.

Thankfully, after they had stumbled through their introduction (he decided not to bring up the whole Name Thing right now, as it was just one too many things to deal with), there was a further distraction, both in Killian being nice again (Jean-Loup just let his tail wag inside his chest), and also from Bonabelle.

"Squishy is what?" he asked. He poked Killian's stomach gently. "Is this? I think it is less than before."

13 Jean Wolfe Such awooo. Much love. 1506 0 5

Ema Skies

March 03, 2021 7:03 AM

I support these decisions by Ema Skies

Ema hung back, as Killian and Bonabelle said their helloes. There was clearly a moment happening, and it wasn’t one she was supposed to be part of.

She wasn’t sure what to think of the friend. In some ways, that was fair – given that she hadn’t yet met him, she probably wasn’t supposed to think anything about him. Jean-Loup’s existence had first come up at the lake house, when it had been a case of ‘him and his boyfriend are trying to get settled.’ She knew Jean-Loup had been Killian’s intern last year – well, Katey’s intern, but Killian’s… it sounded harsh to say ‘project.’ ‘Resonsibility?’ Killian had arranged stuff. There had also been the details, some presented casually, and some enthusiastically, that you just built up by hearing a person talk about their friend. He liked running (boo), got Killian to eat vegetables (how?) and was studying to be a healer (obviously, given his internship).

Those were all perfectly neutral, normal things for her to know about a stranger. Except, Killian had headed off to Canada for a weekend earlier in the term, and as his girlfriend who lived in the same country as him, that was the kind of thing she was vaguely in the loop about. When explaining both that trip and this one, Killian had been clearly treading that careful line of trying to tell her what she needed to know without telling her someone else’s business. He had, however, decided to err on the side of telling her that the boyfriend that had been mentioned last year was now ex, and that family was also a sensitive subject.

That had given her a pretty solid idea about his background – not to say his family were definitely Pureblood, but they were very definitely buttholes. However, the probability that they were the former seemed to solidify as he tried to bow to her just as she held out a hand.

“Ema,” she reconfirmed her name, or reassured him that she was fine with him calling her by it, which felt bizarre to need to do cos she still looked at him and felt like they were approximately the same level of adult. At least until she remembered what a long time ago and what a mess she’d been at his age, and then it did seem like a big gap, but it was still weird to think it rendered her as seeming like an actual adult to him. She shook his hand.

She was going to try not to be too much of a sap with Killian in front of him (and, to be fair, Bonabelle probably didn’t want to see it either) but he did make it difficult sometimes. Still, she was content with giving him a smile for being a cheesy (but adorable) potato, which turned into a suppressed giggle at the comments on his squishiness. She left him to handle those.

“So, what now? I can drop our bags and get us settled in, if you all want to have a catch up?” It was getting late, but it wasn’t like the school concert had finished past anyone’s bedtime, and it was an hour earlier here. She didn’t actually know what time Bonabelle was supposed to go to bed, but Killian presumably did and it presumably wasn’t yet. “Or you can come with us, and help us get acquainted with our neighbourhood,” she suggested, wanting to make it clear that Jean-Loup was basically welcome in all scenarios, and the three of them could tell her to butt out if they wanted to. It was another detail that she’d pre-agreed with Killian, that she was more than happy for them to agree excuses for her to leave and give them some space if necessary. She was getting the impression Jean-Loup would smile politely and tell her he didn’t mind, so she flung a glance at the person who was actually most likely in charge. And her uncle.

13 Ema Skies I support these decisions 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Bonabelle Row

March 07, 2021 9:52 AM

I literally love all the people here. by Bonabelle Row

"All three of you try to get me to eat vegetables now," Killian explained away his decreased squishiness with a theatrical pout. Then he perked up with a big smile. "But I've discovered that most vegetables are improved by cheese, so that's been helpful." Bonabelle rolled her eyes.

She looked between her uncle, her friend, and her uncle's "friend" and couldn't help feeling something that felt dangerously close to happiness in her chest. Such feelings were wildly unsafe, unstable, and undependable, but somehow . . . still very worth it and very real.

The feeling didn't subside at any point over the next few days of the trip which only served to raise Bonabelle's suspicions that something terrible would happen, although she wasn't sure she could trust that feeling. There was, she realized, a good chance that bad things were behind her. That this was family now. That Valentine and grandma and grandpa and Uncle Killian and Ema and Jean-Loup were family now. It seemed safe to trust them, although that wasn't to say they'd never mess up (or had never messed up for that matter). It was with the determination to play an active role in her own happiness that Bonabelle asked Ema for a favor - she didn't even demand it! - once the group had had the chance to catch up and enjoy some time together.

Munching the corner of a waffle, she watched with a thoughtful expression as Uncle Killian and Ema chatted over a newspaper. Uncle Killian smeared a bit of jam on Ema's face when she was looking down and looked as if he might be gross in his attempt to get it off, but quickly replaced his intentions and used a napkin to wipe it off again instead when he noticed Bonabelle watching.

"What's on your mind?" he asked her.

Taking a breath, Bonabelle made up her mind. "That I saw a place nearby that does nails and hair and stuff, and that I would like-- well. Ema, would you take me today? My grandparents gave me some money," she added, not wanting to come off as asking for however much money a nail thing cost. Uncle Killian kept an annoyingly neutral, if a little smug, expression as he looked at Ema for her answer.

22 Bonabelle Row I literally love all the people here. 1488 0 5

Ema Skies

March 08, 2021 4:52 AM

Am I a people? by Ema Skies

It was breakfast time, and just the three of them. That was usually the case over breakfast, though there had been one occasion where Jean-Loup had just been too cosy with Killian and Bonabelle to kick out, and they’d just let him fall asleep on the couch, even though he was far too big for it, and she was pretty sure there was something in their holiday rental agreement about not doing that. He also seemed like exactly the kind of person who was awake at six am and ready to go for a run, though luckily he hadn’t popped up in their house demanding that any of them come with him. She was still getting used to Jean-Loup. He seemed kind of like a puppy crossed with a frat boy, with occasional bouts of melancholy. Had Ema met him in passing, she was pretty sure she would never have pegged him for being gay, or for having more than two interesting or joined together thoughts. Those were both things that reflected far more on her than on him, she was aware. She was doing her best to learn from that, even though she couldn't say she quite found herself on his wavelength very often, and wasn't entirely sure what ways Killian was. She was pretty sure Jean-Loup adored Killian and Bonabelle though, and that the wounded element of his wounded puppy personality came from everyone else who had ever had that label giving him a solid kicking. She wasn't sure she could relate to him, but it wasn't difficult to be kind to him.

Still, right now, it was ‘just’ the three of them. That was not really a ‘just’ in that she was still getting used to both the other people involved. It was strange having Killian around full time – that he was neither having to rush off to work in the mornings, and nor was there a clock ticking on them being in the same place. There was no point at which she was required to give him back, and go off to the other side of the world away from him. It was a good kind of strange, much like him, and one she thought she could get used to. They were also being responsible-ish for Bonabelle. Apparently, Killian didn't know when she was meant to go to bed either. Ema was pretty sure they didn't actually know what they were doing, and were both just doing a good-ish job of bluffing because they both knew from work that teenagers could smell fear. She wasn't totally sure that they were successfully fooling Bonabelle, but she was pretty sure that everyone was having a nice time, even if not a thoroughly rule-governed one.

Case in point, that she was enjoying a civilised breakfast discussion about world issues when Killian decided to dot jelly on her face. He clearly backtracked out of whatever follow up he had planned for that when he noticed his niece watching.

“Good job she’s not learning table manners from you, isn’t it?” Ema reproved jokingly, further underlining the bad example by booping him on the nose with a teaspoon of chastisement (and possibly some sugar granules). They could be a little badly behaved right, and be the cool fun grown-ups? That was the goal? Whilst not being totally irresponsible. They had that down…

The direction the conversation took after that was definitely not one she would have predicted. Luckily, Bonabelle kept talking a little beyond her initial request, which covered any moment of stunned silence that might have followed her question otherwise.

“Sure! I’d love to,” Ema smiled, clearly still a little surprised (because she thought it deserved noting that she was aware an honour was being bestowed here) but happy about it. She wasn’t normally a super ‘hair and nail salon’ type of person. She liked being bright and colourful but she tended to hodge-podge her way through doing that herself. She had definitely never understood the appeal of paying a lot of money for other people to do well what you could do badly yourself. Sure, she recognised the skill difference, but she was happier with a half-assed job and having her time and money to do other things. Laos had softened her up a little on the idea of salons. It was cheap enough there that she didn’t feel guilty or frivolous about spending money on it the way she would have done at home, and it could be a nice thing to do with friends. Still, it was never something she’d normally do on holiday – she never would have seen the appeal of doing something like this whilst she was in an exciting new place full of buildings she’d never seen and museums she hadn’t been to yet, because (unless they were gonna paint mooses and maple leaves on them) she was pretty sure that the inside of one nail salon was much like another. However, the chance to do nails with Bonabelle was rare. The ‘with Bonabelle’ part was the part she was fully signed up for and currently grinning about.

It wasn’t a trap, right?

Bonabelle wasn’t going to lure her out to do nails, then vanish away and have it be Ema’s fault so that it wouldn’t be Killian’s, or so that Ema would get kicked out of the family? Also, if she tried, Ema was a fully legal adult, so could like… magic tackle her if need be. Or track and trace her. Did normal adults think these things? Was she the worst for the having that thought randomly pop into her head? Or the best, because she was thoroughly prepared? Or just weird. It wasn’t like she really thought it, it was just that sometimes thoughts that she wasn’t really thinking popped into say hello…

“Full disclosure, I have no idea how much stuff like that costs over here. But we can find out, and we can probably top you up if you don’t have enough, or if you decide you don’t want to spend it on that we can go wild in a drug store, and an art store and do it ourselves,” she offered. “Doing something together definitely sounds nice,” she reiterated, wanting to make it clear that she was definitely up for an adventure, just wanting to give Bonabelle an out if the salon was intimidating when they got there.

13 Ema Skies Am I a people? 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Bonabelle Row

March 09, 2021 1:03 PM

You didn't hear it from me. by Bonabelle Row

Ema agreed! Ema agreed to it and didn't ask questions and soon breakfast was done and they were off to the salon. Uncle Killian had given Bonabelle a little bit more money just in case and Bonabelle felt a bit ridiculous carrying so much around with her just because she didn't know how much stuff cost. She was pretty sure it wasn't a ton of money but she'd never really had a ton of money, so it felt like a lot. The money they had had when she was younger had mostly gone to things she wasn't supposed to touch or participate in (and sometimes to the bills when Bonabelle had been able to get ahold of enough and forged her father's signature on the accompanying letters), and the dresses her father had bought her to make up for everything else. It didn't make up for them not having what they needed at home, or for not really having a home, but at least no one else could tell just from looking at her.

The offer to go to a drugstore and get stuff to do their nails had been tempting but Bonabelle was pretty sure she wanted the real experience since she'd never had it, or had anyone to go with before, and because sitting in their room staring at each other while Bonabelle tried to figure out how the heck to get the varnish on correctly just seemed silly. So Uncle Killian kissed Ema goodbye and left to spend time with Jean-Loup - this was an important part of Bonabelle's plan because Jean-Loup clearly needed some time with him. Bonabelle got a hug from him and then left with Ema. She kept her eyes on the shops and storefronts as they walked together, feeling much more like a little girl than she'd like to. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Ema to see if there was anything she could learn about how to walk or otherwise look like a grown up, but she couldn't quite tell.

"I've never had my nails done before," she said, keeping the topic to something easy. Maybe she'd learn about how to talk like a grown up from the conversation. "It doesn't hurt or anything, right? Is it just like paint?"

22 Bonabelle Row You didn't hear it from me. 1488 0 5

Ema Skies

March 09, 2021 8:50 PM

Of course not by Ema Skies

Killian hugged and kissed them goodbye, and then it was just her an Bonabelle. She hoped an awkward silence didn't develop....

....

Luckily they had a plan, so putting that plan into action meant they weren't just stuck staring at each other, wondering 'what now?' and Bonabelle had questions about the process, which would easily fill the short walk.

"They'll cut and shape your nails too," Ema informed her. "Some of the things look kind of weird and pokey, but none of them really hurt," she added. She was worried that any description she could give would make it sound worse that it was, but also she didn't want to say nothing but paint was going to happen, as that wasn't true, and some of the impliments could be a bit weird if you weren't used to them, or included a short sharp sting.

"Here, take your thumb nail and push like this," she stated, pausing to demonstrate, "Don't pinch, just push," she stated, demonstrating on the cuticle of her own nail. Someone is gonna push back your cuticles sounded horrific but the actual action wasn't bad. "There's that, and they'll also wick any little bits of dead or loose skin away - that hurts less than if you've ever picked at them yourself, cos they're quick and precise and know what they're doing.

"It's also totally okay to ask like 'What's that for?' or to let them do it to me first so you can see what happens. And like... it's not mandatory. If you really don't like part of it, you can say you want to skip that step. I can ask them to talk us through what they're doing, if that would make you more comfortable?" she checked. She didn't want to attract attention to Bonabelle if that would make her feel self-conscious but she knew it could feel awkward to ask things, especially if it felt like someone thought you were already meant to know. She was happy to take on the role of being that mediator, and asking the questions for her if need be, and she would definitely keep an eye out for any signs she wasn't comfortable even if she wasn't speaking up.

She slowed their pace a little, to make sure they had fully dealt with any 'before' questions before drawing up to the door, and pushing it open, setting the little bell in motion.

"Hello," smiled the receptionist. "What can I do for you today?"

"We don't do saloning much. I think we just need a moment to browse," Ema answered. The receptionist nodded, not moving away from the desk, but no longer waiting with anticipatory and intense eye contact.

"Does a basic manicure also include colour?" she asked, even though she was pretty sure it did.

"Yes, you can choose from any of these," the receptionist nodded, holding out the little palettes of fake, disembodied nails in all colours of the rainbow. "Nail art is extra, they're in the book," she indicated.

"Okay. Shall we have a browse?" she asked Bonabelle, picking the items up off the desk and nodding to a couple of seats in the reception area where they could sit and take stock of their choices.

13 Ema Skies Of course not 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Bonabelle Row

March 10, 2021 10:57 AM

Uncle Killian thinks you're human though I think. by Bonabelle Row

Bonabelle nodded, taking in the information that Ema gave her with a serious expression. She didn't think it was the most important stuff she'd ever learned, but it kinda felt like it might be too. She examined her nails a little bit as she followed Ema's practice instructions, not sure how to tell if they were good or bad. They seemed alright but she didn't have any sort of mental rubric to judge by so she rubbed her thumbs over them a bit self-consciously before dropping her hands back to her sides.

It helped knowing that she didn't have to let them do anything she didn't like, but she thought that was sort of more of a mental exercise in practicing consent than anything else. You couldn't really just tell people not to do things that they were supposed to do just because you didn't like it, or have strong opinions about things like that. It would get you noticed and called out and then you'd have a whole host of other problems. It was like asking a professor not to give you homework; sometimes, you just had to do what you were told. There were some things where that wasn't true though, like dating. Uncle Killian had acted like it was totally normal when they had a conversation about consent in relationships and stuff and Bonabelle didn't think it was normal at all because boys were gross and girls were girls and no one was about to go touching her anyway.

"I don't mind asking questions if I need to know something," she decided, not wanting Ema to overdo it trying to be helpful and make them seem weird. Ema seemed like she was pretty weird on the whole but it was good weird most of the time; she didn't want the woman to go giving up on that just for the sake of Bonabelle's comfort. "Thank you," she added, remembering her manners.

They entered the salon and the strength of the smells made Bonabelle's head woozy, so she just listened and looked around as Ema spoke with the receptionist. It was a lot to take in but she was quick about it, not wanting to be seen gawking or look as totally out of her depth as she really was. Ema had a box of nails that basically looked like something a Boggart would turn into and indicated seats for them to take to look at the options. Bonabelle was loathe to touch any of the disembodied nails so she let Ema flip through them, showing her the options.

"What's nail art?" Bonabelle asked once they had seated themselves. Glancing through the book answered her question and Ema's explanation made her nod thoughtfully as she considered the option. She was pretty sure that nail art like that would be more expensive, although she had plenty of money for it now. Spending on such frivolous things was already hard enough without added costs of fancy feathers and moving cats (the moving ones were the most expensive) so Bonabelle shook her head and put the book down, deciding she didn't want anything like that. Some of the plain varnishes were still pretty fancy though, and a blue one with gold sparkles in it caught her eye.

She wrestled a bit internally before deciding she'd just give in and ask her question. Looking up at Ema so she could see if there was anything on the woman's face that would give away more information than just her answer in words would, Bonabelle cocked her head.

"What's the point of this?" she asked, waving a hand at the options before them. "Like, why do ladies get all done up and fancy and put colors on their nails or their faces? Or their hair?" she added with a hint of a smile. She thought Ema's hair was super cool but she didn't think that colors like that would look very good on her. She was too plain for that kind of thing. "People aren't going to try to date me now, right?" she asked, mingling horror and anxiety changing her voice.

22 Bonabelle Row Uncle Killian thinks you're human though I think. 1488 0 5

Ema Skies

March 10, 2021 8:45 PM

Mwa ha ha, more fool him by Ema Skies

"I always think these things are so weird," Ema said in am undertone, holding up the little plastic circle of nails. Like, in what other situation did someone hand you a menu of detached body parts?

"Pretty pictures or designs," she answered Bonabelle's questions about nail art, flipping open the book.

Bonabelle was taking her time, which was fine, though when she did finally speak up, it was less a quesion about nails and more about... well, basically everything. Okay, the 'all this' refererred to appearance-based things, not life, so it seemed like the nail salon had not sparked a full on existential crisis. It also seemed like it was a place that Bonabelle wasn't totally sure she wanted to be.

Ema kind of wanted to laugh at her final statement, but took a great deal of care not to, settling instead for a sympathetic smile.

"People do this for lots of reasons," she answered, "Mostly because it makes them feel good in some way. It might be because it makes them feel pretty, or because they believe it will make them more attractive to other people. That's the angle you see sold most often, but I've never really heard anyone say that in real life. It might make them feel pretty for themselves, or good in other ways. Life can be hectic, so taking time out to do something like this can be a way of taking care of yourself, or spending time with someone," she said, adding just a little verbal underlining to that, as it was the main reason she was here. "It's also sometimes a form of rebellion, especially if you dye your hair bright and silly colours. I guess it's like how some people choose their clothes carefully, based on what makes them feel most like themselves.

"If someone wants to date you, your nails and I should not be held responsible," she answered. It seemed weird to just flat out tell Bonabelle that of course no one would want to date her, even if it seemed like what she wanted to hear - something that was beyond Ema's capacity to promise, though she could be pretty sure nails would not be the cause. "There's lots of better reasons than that why someone might be interested in you. But it sounds like you'd rather they weren't?"

13 Ema Skies Mwa ha ha, more fool him 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Bonabelle Row

March 20, 2021 12:32 PM

I'm supposed to know that saying, not you. by Bonabelle Row

Bonabelle breathed out a little, relieved that she wasn't the only one a bit horrified. She nodded, wrinkling her nose up a bit at the nails, although the rest of her expression smirked playfully a bit. The expression lasted until it was time to ask her question and she was grateful that Ema didn't seem to find anything funny about it. She was pretty sure Valentine would have laughed, not because she was cruel but because it wouldn't have crossed her mind not to think it was funny. She doubted the Teppenpaw questioned the goodness of pretty things just for the sake of pretty things, but Bonabelle needed more than that. Beauty, to her, was an instrumental good, not an inherent one, and the only things she'd seen it be used as an instrument for were mostly unappealing to her at this point. Although Valentine was pretty and that was not bad, so maybe it wasn't that beauty as a whole was bad news . . . just that people used it in bad ways sometimes, or people - like Stanley - seemed to only care about beauty and not so much about substance. He was right, Valentine was lovely, but he didn't even know her well enough to not be a total dunce about stuff. Bonabelle was not really looking forward to a whole year of them dating, although it didn't sound like Valentine had been sure she was really looking forward to that either. At least she'd have some new academic challenges to distract her from the inevitable demise of her friendship in the fiery pits of young 'love'.

She nodded slowly as she listened to Ema explain this stuff. She hadn't really considered the parallel to clothes much; Bonabelle cared about the clothes she wore and she liked to wear pretty things for literally no practical reason at all. They were pretty so she liked wearing them. She supposed perhaps she'd been a harsh judge of makeup, hair dye, and nail varnish.

"Rebellion," Bonabelle said, the word and the idea feeling sticky in the best way. "Not today . . . but maybe someday . . . could my hair be rebellious?" she asked. She thought it might be the most fun ever to put bright streaks in her hair, but she wasn't about to admit that to anyone else and certainly not to herself.

She sighed, pouting a little more obviously than she meant to at the question about dating. "My best friend is dating a boy and he's stupid and I hate him," Bonabelle said quietly, looking away from Ema because she didn't want to be childish and maintain eye contact at the same time. "I don't wanna date someone like that. His brother gave me flowers but I don't think he actually likes me. Valentine made us go on a date together by accident I think," she explained. "If someone wants to date me, they should be smart and nice and they shouldn't--" She cut herself off, swallowing hard. "Are you going to leave Uncle Killian?" she asked.

22 Bonabelle Row I'm supposed to know that saying, not you. 1488 0 5

Ema Skies

March 21, 2021 4:47 AM

Whoops by Ema Skies

Rebellion. Ema was a little bit proud that that was the example Bonabelle latched onto the most readily, and only a tiny bit worried that she herself could get in two sets of trouble for inciting that.

"Could be," she confirmed with a definite grin about Bonabelle's hair, the expression made somewhat easier by the fact that she had preceded the suggestion with 'someday.'

Her expression screwed itself into one of sympathy at ickiness when Bonabelle said Valentine had a stupid boyfriend. Whilst there was every possibility Bonabelle was just jealous - in whatever sense - Ema really wasn't willing to rate most boys her age's chances of not being genuinely an idiot very highly. They definitely had a tendency towards it. And in far too many cases, no one ever forced them to grow out of it. She was nodding along sympathetically, and emphatically with the fact that anyone who wanted to date Bonabelle should be all kinds of wonderful, when nodding abruptly became the wrong response. She was halfway through an automatic switch to a headshake when she caught herself. Given that she had just moved continents to be with Killian, she doubted that it seemed like she was about to leave. Which meant that this wasn’t a ‘right now’ question, it was an ‘ever’ question. And a flat out ‘no’ wasn’t a very honest answer to that, even if she wanted it to be the truth. She was not totally caught off guard, as she had wondered if this sort of chat was coming from any of several people, though given that all the Rows had had a chance to pull her aside at one point or another before now, she would have put her money on Jean-Loup.

“It’s not my intention to,” she answered. “When he and I talk, we talk in terms of future and forever. One of the tricky things in life is you can’t really predict when you’re going to be right about that.” She wondered if this was too much, whether a simple answer would have been better, but she couldn’t see any way of saying it more simply that didn’t seem like fudging the truth. “I wish I could promise, but I only do that if I’m sure I can keep it,” she offered, hoping that was something that got points. It was hard to say whether a life of adults never quite being good enough meant that Bonabelle would value the ones who had integrity, or whether she only wanted to hear things that were impossible. “But if – and big, big if – but if I broke up with your uncle, and you still wanted to talk to me, you could. I know that would probably have a pretty big impact on what you thought of me, and that you’re probably still deciding if you even like me. But just saying… if. If all the ifs. I know it’s really cra-crumby when people go away and you feel like you can’t talk to them anymore,” she offered. And then she forced herself to stop talking because she was probably saying too many things, but she would rather have that on the record way too soon than never at all.

13 Ema Skies Whoops 0 Ema Skies 0 5