Socking and owl to Brice de Winter, OR: Why it's bad when your family's at Hogwarts

[anuclearwinter.livejournal.com]

‘Excuse me? Laura? Laura de Winter?’

Laura, elegant as always in a dark blue dress and a stole, hair twisted up, looks to where the admiring voice is coming from. There’s a slim girl of about eighteen there, with her black hair neat and shining; not dressed in clothes that would really suit her, but garish looks best on young bodies, after all. She looks almost familiar.

‘Have we met?’

‘Oh, no!’ the girl hastens to assure her, scurrying closer, and stopping a good distance away. She looks almost timid, keeping her eyes down. ‘It’s just, well, I’ve heard a lot about you.’ In Hell, that tends to happen. Think when universities have wings donated to them and a bust of the benefactor in the entrance hall. The de Winters put a lot of business Hell’s way. ‘And you look exactly the same as I imagined!’

‘The mind,’ Laura comments, ‘Is a powerful tool.’ Unable to see Maia’s smirk, she assumes the girl is just awed by the presence of such a celebrity. ‘Can I help you, dear?’

‘Well, yes,’ Maia admits, hands not on her hips, as usual, but clasped demurely in front of her. She has to do so many things she hates for this damn job, and pretending she’s Mel has to be one of the top loathes. She wouldn’t mind if, say, Brice was evil and fancied corrupting Mel but didn’t want the bother of angel girl being all I SHAL TURN U GUD LOL; Maia’s abilities as a shapeshifter would definitely come in handy. Maia suppresses a pleased shudder, and continues her speech.

‘It’s about Brice—your son,’ she says quickly, not letting Laura interject. ‘He’s moving in with a friend of mine—well, my twin, actually, we’re both just eighteen. I wanted to get them a present...maybe cushions for their bed, or a new canopy, or a mirror or something? Wineglasses? I just don’t know! And then, I thought, you’d know...can you give me any pointers?’ Blatant lie. Maia’s already sent a card. She peeks from underneath her lashes to see Laura’s reaction, and is not disappointed.

The lady is pale, paler than snow. The dark blue looks awful against her complexion now, though it serves to highlight her eyes and how shocked they are. Her hands are almost shaking, though her mouth is one firm line, determined not to show any emotion. Maia can only wish she’ll be that good eventually. But this business needs hurrying up on.
‘Oh—Ms. de Winter—I’m sorry, didn’t you know...’
‘I did not.’ Her voice is sharp, and Maia really hopes she won’t shoot the messenger. Automatically, she backs up a step, and Laura’s immaculately made-up face segues into a sort of smile.

‘I’m so sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to startle you. My son—‘ she pauses, trying once again to understand that Brice is alive here, and Dominic is nowhere to be found. ‘My son and I rather neglect communications. You know how men can be.’

Maia nods and smiles, though the only men she’s ever had weren’t fit for a whole lot of communicating afterwards. ‘So—‘
‘I’m afraid I can’t help,’ Laura says silkily, and changes direction. She walks past Maia, and the demon glimpses her energy field. It’s a glorious symphony of shocks and pain, guilt and poison, money and immorality.

The demon waits til she’s alone, and hugs herself hard. Easy.




Brice--

I met a woman today who informed me you are moving in with a girlfriend. Brice, you know my opinion of this. I haven’t even met the girl. You’re living in sin—as an ‘angel’, surely that ought to be discouraged?

I suggest a meeting for the three of us, soon; and until then, I rather think you need to think carefully about your future choices.

--Your mother