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bam-monsterhospital · 3 years

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some house thoughts

tw: harry potter talk.

because fuck harry potter and extra eXTRA fuck rowling

my sister and i have been thinking about this for over a decade, so i thought i’d finally jot down our changes to the houses of hogwarts.

the houses originally started off with the characteristics of “hero protagonists”, “evil mcevil nazi-flavoured villains”, “smurts i guess”, and “uh... bystanders, whatever”... because rowling is a hack. with the franchise going into exponential expansion mode, the need for actually giving all the houses some sort of characterization outside of ‘the ones rowling cares about, the bad ones, and the ones she doesn’t care about’. Eventually we got a skeleton of>

royal lion colours house = ‘bravery’

evil mcsnake green-is-the-colour-of-evil house = “ambitious”

cawcaw birdhouse = “... still smurts”

and yellow-and-black couldn’t-even-bother-giving-them-their-own-unique-colour house = “uhh.... friendship i guess, whatever. loyalty? enh.”

it’s bullshit. and lazy. and dumb. so here’s what kait and i came up with (and no this isn’t an attempt to fix anything, there’s no fixing this, nor should anyone fix anything touched by the actually evil mc-horrible rowling. this is... ‘hey look what we thought up. look how easy it is to make shit interesting and still work’. this is what we would have done, but also fuck hogwarts and harry potter, because we wouldn’t have created this mess in the first place). (under the readmore. it’s a looooooooooong one)

So let’s start with slytherin. Green is my favourite colour and I like snakes, so we’re getting through this one first.

Slytherin, when it was given any sort of association outside of ‘eviiillllll’, was associated with ambition. So I focused on that and realized that there’s a greater connection between gryffindor and slytherin than hero vs villain. Slytherin and gryffindor are two sides of the exact same coin; they are both unstoppable stubborn forces of ‘get shit done’. Slytherin is goals-focused, and will use any and all tools available to them to reach those goals. What may be considered ‘good’ and ‘bad’ does not matter, instead Slytherin concerns itself with what needs to be done, and does it. Cunning and manipulative, slytherin thinks and plots around a problem, doing whatever works and suits their interests best. Obviously a lot of this paints Slytherin as selfish and self-motivated, which is pretty much spot-on. But valuing yourself doesn’t automatically make an evil shithead. Sure you have the types in slytherin who stomp on all who get in their way and even sacrifice anyone they may have been close to just to get the slightest bit ahead. But on the other hand, you also get those who keep track of the wellbeing of those they care about, and will sabotage and steer away anything that might harm the ones they love. The self-focus means slytherins would have standards and boundaries, and be able to easily spot when someone else is taking advantage.

next we have lion rawr house. Gryffindor is the other side of the coin Slytherin’s on. It’s the heads to slytherin’s tails (yes and take the associations and implications with that). No this doesn’t mean it’s the good to slytherin’s bad, did you even read the snake section? Gryffindor, like the snakies, is a stubborn fuck. Like, homg. These two stupid houses and their determination, jeebus. Arguing with a slytherin means they just upended your own argument and saw holes in it or straight up walked past you; gryffindor is shouting at you, nu-uhing til the sun sets looooong after youv’e given up. Unlike slytherin, gryffindor is less concerned with ‘needs’ & goals, and more concerned with what it deems as right or wrong. Yes, what it deems. What each individual lion person values and sees in their own distinct ethical code. Does this mean gryffindor fights for justice and what’s right? Fuck no. Gryffindor is motivated by how it thinks things ‘should’ be. Lionhouse charges in like an explosion, giving the finger to consequences, and doing what it’s gonna do. Brave? sure... but that word is a little too loaded in the ‘heroic’ direction for my tastes, and I’d prefer something more neutral (see colourful description in the previous sentence). Think leeroy jenkins. Headstrong, prefering the direct approach, and would brute force life if they could get away with it. So, this can come in many flavours of person, like Slytherin above. On the one end you get your nevilles, who stubbornly stand for what they believe in when push comes to shove, despite being terrified. You can also get all sorts of good or bad people who can be: foolhardy, refuse to change their minds, push their beliefs onto others without consent, ignore information that goes against their points, etc etc etc. Anyone can be an asshole, house shouldn’t determine that, and gryffindor has a lot of characteristics when combined that can very often lead to assholery.

okay, next up is the badgers because i’m tired of it being last in everything. Hufflepuff. hufflepuff. yellow and black. gold and black. when gryffindor also has gold, and black is like...... not even presented as their main colour. Hufflepuffs got fucked over is what i’m trying to say. Eternally the ‘uh... just stick anyone else in there’ house, let’s start with the bits and pieces cobbled together over the years for our groundwork: loyal, hard-working, friendship-minded. And already there’s a lot we can do here. Hufflepuff serves as a bit of a polar opposite to Slytherin. Where the snakies are self-focused and motivated, Hufflepuff’s focus is on community. This can take many forms, obviously, and can range from society at large and human beings across the globe, to those close friends and connections they’ve surrounded themselves with. Hufflepuff puts the needs of the group before the needs of the individual (and before you say anything, no that doesn’t make hufflepuff automatic angels. we’ll get to that later). Hufflepuffs realize the intrinsic necessity in every human being for social interaction and interdependence; without the group there is no individual. No person is an island, no one is exempt and completely cut off from depending on other human beings. This is a fact, but also the core of hufflepuff’s motivations and how it works. Loyalty would obviously be a very valued trait, because a lack of it sets you off and apart from the group, and shows how little you value it. Hufflepuff takes ‘friendship is magic’ and weaponizes it; cliques, clubs, found family, elaborate social webs, on and on and on. You don’t have to be a social butterfly or even charismatic to be a hufflepuff, you just have to understand and utilize the strength that numbers bring. Hufflepuffs use ‘hard work’ to solve problems, and they would also be encouraged to be aware of individual strenghs and weaknesses so as to know when and where to ask for help. I can see a hufflepuff as that person in your friend group who’s like ‘ah no worries, i know a guy’ and dials up their number any time you run into ANY wacky bizarre problem. Nat, from bob’s burgers is a good example of a hufflepuff. Scott Summers/cyclops from xmen is also a good example of a hufflepuff. Someone who is group-focused, someone who works hard and/or values hard work, someone who sees the value of strong bonds between other human beings. I feel like i was repeating myself a little there so let’s just move on to brainstorming more kinds of badger babies. Okay, so obviously you can have your snobby elitist groups, you can have hufflepuffs who are so hung up on the importance of whatever group they value (again, as broad as ‘society’ to as small as ‘me and my cat’ and anything in between) that they put it before everything else. You can have self-destructive hufflepuffs who want the best for those around them and put all their energy into that without devoting any to themselves. You can have those who use their mega powers of networking to completely ruin others. And on and on and on.

finally the borbs. hoo boy the borbs. Ravenclaw is not the ‘smart’ house. let’s get that out of the way first and foremost. Intelligence is such a loaded word to use for a house; there are so many ways in which ‘intelligence’ can be interpreted and manifests, there are so many was to be ‘intelligent’, and it’s sooooooooo boooooooring to make a house devoted to limited academic rote-memorization ‘booksmarts’. No. Where slytherin (yes i’m using them as a vector for comparison AGAIN, shhhh) sees the value of knowledge for the sake of furthering their goals, Ravenclaw’s relationship with information is knowledge for the sake of knowledge. Ravenclaw is the add/adhd kid in the class who didn’t do their assigned homework and instead spent the night making a diorama about how cool it is that plants technically can be self-sustaining. Ravenclaw isn’t the stereotypical mathamatics-wiz, it’s the class of kids who keep asking questions about random bullshit to the substitute teacher not just because they want to run the clock, but also because they genuinely want to know about the paradoxes of time travel, and what really happens when your tongue gets stuck to a cold post. What i’m saying is ravenclaw is a disaster. A disaster-house. And it’s great. Because because there’s so many kinds of intelligence, i can see ravenclaw hosting mostly kids with hyperfixations. Of course you can have hyperfixations in other houses, of course, but because ravenclaw prides itself on being the ‘smurtz’ house and nothing else (thanks rowling), this is how that would really work. So, because intelligence isn’t a singular quantifiable trait, you’d get ravenclaws who are good and invested in all sorts of stuff. Sure you can get your stereotypical math-related wizes, but you’d also get good word-smiths, logic-puzzle afficionados, walking encyclopedias, specialized infodumpers, and so on. I think Ravenclaw as a house would want to encourage this: encourage curiosity and passion and try and push students to find out more, to seek out answers to any questions they have. All sorts of puzzles and the ability to think around and outside the box would be a mainstay of ravenclaw-existence. And teaching classes of ravenclaws would be a messy disorganized nightmare; because no matter how on-track you start off, expect to end your lesson talking about something completely different that has nothing to do with anything. Good & Bad ravenclaws? I’m sure you can come up with your own here, it’s not that difficult. Unfortunately because birb-house has just one like monolithic singular isolated trait, it’s pretty hard to go hog-wild mapping out a more fleshed-out identity that sets it apart from the other houses. But let’s try thinking of possibilities anyway: you can have ravenclaws that do not give a rats’ ass about anyone and anything outside of whatever it is they’re focusing on. You can have ravenclaws who get so caught up in whatever it is they’re researching and looking for, that it negatively impacts them along the way (self-neglect, wasting away, loss of humanity via horrible acts commited in the name of finding out more). You can have ravenclaws that get addicted to the search they take up, figuring out whatever mysteries that remain unsolved, or have the nagging itching need to constantly dig up new information, even if it doesn’t exist. They can be neglectful, forgetful, apathetic, or even egotistical, or actively malicious. They could be passionate, excited to fostor wonder in other people, dedicated, and sharp as a whistle, or airy, spaced-out, or clueless. There are possibilities here for all sorts of people.

To conclude... Like zodiac signs, alignment charts, all those sorts of personality type categorizing, everyone is going to have a little bit of multiple (or every) house in them. I dont’ necessarily think that’s a bad or good thing, just a thing, and because of it kait and i have spoken sooooooo many times about how much choice and perception should matter in sorting. you may or may not already have your mind made up about what the houses are like; the hat should open up a mental discussion of that. Gives you a run-down on the houses, then asks you what you want? What kind of people do you want to be around? What do you want to focus on? What are your goals and motivations? Ultimately the final say is made by the child. Sure houses have rumours and reputations surrounding them, but the hat is just there to guide, to explain the facts and give the child all the information to make the best choice for them: aka whatever that kid thinks of as best for them. So yeah, the houses aren’t fixed, anyone could be anything, nothing matters. The end.

#ranting #thoughts #wizard thoughts #well not really #house thoughts #hp stuff #that should be the tag that i've been using... p sure #in case you need to block #ramblings

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villa-kulla · 7 years

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I was hoping you might find time for the commentary! I expect this may be a common request, but would you do the scene at the end of Chisolm's 7, from '6 months later' to 'gradually remembered how to be himself'?

I had a feeling you’d choose that one haha and I’m so glad you did! It was exTREMEly satisfying to write. Thanks for the ask!

(***copy-paste disclaimer that this is NOT under a readmore because my blog’s black background makes reading long things a chore, so SCROLL FAST IF YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED!***)

Before this section even starts, for the 6 months later heading I intentionally left such ridiculously huge paragraph gaps before and after, just because I knew people would be scrolling and I wanted to convey distance for the time jump. If this had been a book I’d have wanted an almost blank page that says ‘6 months later’, so I guess wide gaps in between scrolling is the online version of that haha)

Goodnight stretched back on the lounge chair contentedly, baking underneath the hot sun. Billy would give him hell for having taken off his thin linen shirt in the middle of the day, but Billy was out swimming as it happened, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Goody and I are one where the sun is concerned, in that we KNOW we burn easily but the allure of sunbathing properly is too much to resist haha, much to the despair of the ones who are trying to save us from ourselves/UV rays. This is absoLUTEly a source of much bickering for them haha

He reached for his drink, moving the colourful umbrella to the side as he took a pull from the straw. He licked his lips, the sweet juice mingling with the salty taste from when he’d gone swimming earlier.

They did that every day. Swimming, that is. Swimming, sailing, and making their way around the islands, no plans for the day other than if they should up the sails and find a new port to explore, or stay anchored, bobbing in crystal blue and green waters next to white beaches, alternating between swimming or laying back on the deck while they enjoyed each other’s company. Whether that was by playing cards, reading, tanning, keeping the large yacht in ship-shape, or having frankly ridiculous amounts of sex, the bliss of living with Billy Rocks still hadn’t worn off. And at this rate, Goodnight didn’t think it ever would.

living the high liiiiife. Back in chapter 1, Sam asks Goody what his plans with the bank money are, and Goody says ‘I see a yacht in my future’, and then BOOM, just like that I had the ending for this fic completely in place haha. Like the second I typed him saying that it was like “oh okay, so this fic ends with Goody and Billy on a yacht together, k cool”, and the whole way through I couldn’t wait to actually write it. And as we talked about before, this Dorothy L. Sayers quote was in my head the entire time writing it: “Lord Peter’s large income… cost me nothing and at the time I was particularly hard up and it gave me pleasure to spend his fortune for him. When I was dissatisfied with my single unfurnished room I took a luxurious flat for him in Piccadilly. When my cheap rug got a hole in it, I ordered him an Aubusson carpet.” Spending fictional money is extremely satisfying haha, so yeah, I was very much looking forward to spoiling these two

Goodnight nudged down his sunglasses, keeping an eye on Billy out in the water, smiling when he saw his dark head bobbing out in the water like a seal’s. They were anchored by a coral reef and Billy was out snorkeling again. Never content to just float on the water though, Goodnight often saw his head dip under to go chase a fish or pick up a shell on the sandy bottom.

I had to include the seal comparison, because as always, Billy is such a water creature to me. I blame River Grit lol, but the seal bit is my little shoutout to my own damn obsession with him as a water spirit. Also protective!Goody nudging down his glasses

Goodnight smiled and took another sip of his drink, making a mental note to ask Billy if he wanted to have dinner on shore or fix something on the boat. They were anchored off one of the many islands in the area, and this one had an appealing night market they’d explored the night before before, walking through the bright lights with cold beers in their hands, listening to the sounds of drums from the street bands, the smell of fish, pineapples, and coconuts thick on the air.

I like the domesticity in the phrasing of ‘fix something’, and how it suggests the kind of dinner routines they might have built up at this point in their little floating home. Can’t you just picture them in the kitchen, hips bumping while they both make supper, and holding things out for each other to taste? My heart

They’d seen what felt like half of the Pacific islands this way: sailing to different areas and exploring the local cities, enjoying the colour of each one. But as fun as their travels had been, Goodnight also enjoyed the time he spent with Billy just staying in on the boat: days spent lounging on the deck while they soaked up the sun, the ocean rippling clear around them; warm evenings of throwing something together in the yacht’s kitchen and eating dinner out on the deck with their feet dangling in the water as they watched the sun set; rainy evenings curled up in the lounge watching old movies on their flat screen while the rain drummed on the roof overhead and made the ocean outside as rippled and dented as a golfball. And then there were the nights spent with the windows thrown open, the hot breeze coming in while they moved together on the sheets, feeling and tasting every inch of each other, the movement of their bodies as steady and uplifting as the roll of waves.

I’ve often felt like this big chunky paragraph could have been more elegantly done, but I wasn’t sure how. But either way it was very satisfying to imagine and write these little scenarios for them. Personally I like the image of them eating on the side of the boat with their feet dangling in the water while the sun goes down best, but I also like the image of a rainy ocean being like a ‘golfball’. I was very keen to get the golfball comparison in there, but again, I feel like I could have done it more elegantly but just didn’t know how lol but ah well

Goodnight and Billy had each chipped in from their shares of the casino job so that they could buy the yacht. It was the closest thing either had had to a steady home in a long time, it had been worth every penny.

so they each made off with about 25 million if I remember correctly? I looked at a lot of yachts for sale while writing this (which was both fun and envy-inducing haha), and honestly a reeeeeally swanky mid-sized yacht could EASILY go for at least 50 million. But also I didn’t want them to spend their WHOLE cut of the take on a yacht, because they need to have millions left over to play around with! So idk, let’s say their yacht is certainly high end but not ostentatiously so, and they afforded it just fine with plenty left over for caviar. And btw, in all my yacht research, this one was probably closest to what I imagined for the exterior, although not exactly: https://www.burgessyachts.com/en/sale-purchase-category/yachts-for-sale/sailing-yachts/khaleesi-00006286.html (I couldn’t find an exACT match for what I had in my head but that one’s close-ish)

And speaking of a million dollar view…

coming up is my version of ‘Ursula Andress ascending from the sea in a white bikini in Dr. No’, only it’s Billy haha

Billy was climbing up the ladder, and god, this was just the best part of Goody’s day. He pulled himself up onto the deck, dripping wet, muscles glistening beneath the hot sun, black swimsuit clinging to his hips. He reached up to take off his snorkelling mask, the plastic strap tangling briefly in his hair which he then squeezed out. It was past his shoulders these days, either by preference or simply not being bothered enough to cut it.

would that not be a sight and a half……writing this paragraph was shameless voyeurism I tell you haha. Oh and also the ‘this was just the best part of Goody’s day’ was a reference to Matt Damon’s line in the movie when we see Julia Roberts coming down the stairs looking lovely and he says ‘This is just the best part of my day.’ Like it says in the fic notes, the plot itself is only LOOSELY based on Ocean’s 11 (in that it’s a team and they rob a casino haha), but there are a number of homages, lines, and references to the movie sprinkled throughout, because I love it so much

Billy bent down to take off his flippers, and Goodnight took the opportunity to quickly throw on his white shirt again, not bothering to button it. Billy would say he was burning up, although truthfully Goodnight had never been more brown in his life. He ran his fingers through his salty hair, mussing it up, knowing Billy found it fetching when his hair, sun-streaked with blonde these days, fell across his eyes.

while I do love canon-Goody’s gross, slicked-down hair as an endearing character trait, this was my chance to actually give him some nice, free hair, and I took it haha.

Billy straightened up and walked towards Goodnight on the lounge chair, clearly finding Goodnight as appealing a picture right now as Goodnight found him.

it’s fair to assume they don’t get a lot done, what with how much they just check each other out all the time

“Nice swim, cher?” Goodnight asked with a smile.

“Saw a lionfish,” Billy said with satisfaction as he picked up Goodnight’s drink and took a sip of it.

went back and forth for aaaages between ‘Billy said with satisfaction’ and ‘Billy said happily’. I really liked the ‘happily’ but felt it was coming off as too childish, especially for Billy’s first lines in this scene. I wasn’t trying to infantilize him with pure unfiltered pleasure at a lion fish, but that’s just how the ‘happily’ seemed to be coming off

“Bravo, darling. What’s that, only two thousand species left to go?” Goodnight asked, referring to the list Billy had taped to the fridge of all the different fish he wanted to see in the wild.

he WOULD have that though. oh I do love you, fishboy

“Something like that,” Billy agreed, handing Goodnight back his glass where he’d been batting at it. “Saw a leopard shark too.”

that ‘batting at it’ was completely meant to suggest lazy cat behaviour in Goody. ‘cause. I don’t know, man. They just make nice cats haha

Goodnight narrowed his eyes. “How big are those ones again?”

Billy warns Goody against messing with the sun, and Goody warns Billy against messing with sharks, it evens out in the end;) Protective bbs

Billy smiled. “They’re harmless, Goody.”

“Well maybe so, but you just remember what I said about chasing off after anything with bigger teeth than you,” Goodnight said warningly.

“You’ll be cross,” Billy said, smile still tugging at his lips.

“I’ll be cross,” Goodnight agreed.

“And you’ll scold me,” Billy murmured, bending down, his lips tickling Goodnight’s.

okay but writing Goody scolding people is just SO FUN FOR SOME REASON? I can see him getting all puffed up and ranting at people, and those who know him well know it’s best to just let him talk himself out. The scene earlier in this chapter of him floridly telling off Sam was extremely delightful to write lol. Goodnight definitely has a well developed sense of righteous indignation. Although any shark-related warnings Billy may have received would certainly have been given with love, they’d be given with fervour too, ‘cause I mean Goody didn’t go to all this trouble just to have Billy eaten by a SHARK

“Darn right,” Goodnight said with finality, leaning in to catch Billy’s lips, salty and cool against his own, and delicious every time.

He felt Billy’s lip turn up against his own, and suddenly Billy was pulling back and wiping a thick glob of cream against Goodnight’s nose.

“You were burning,” Billy said.

don’t know if anyone would have remembered the scene from chapter 6 at this point, but Billy was also warning Goody that he was getting a sunburn, and this is my little echo to that. Trapped or free, Billy is head of the ‘make Goody wear sunblock’ squad

Goodnight made a sound of protest but laughed and rubbed the sunscreen in. Billy kissed the tip of his nose when he was finished, and then hopped back onto the deck to go towel off.

I feel like Goody makes a lot of ‘sounds of protest’ in my fics lol, but sometimes it’s hard not to overuse the same mannerisms for characters. But on an unrelated note, BILLY. KISSING. GOODY’S. NOSE. I still can’t decide if that’s a very unBilly-like thing to do, or a VERY Billy-like thing to do, but either way, the image pleased me so in it stayed

Goodnight felt his heart swell to watch Billy move about the deck, limbs loose, posture relaxed, a world removed from the Billy Rocks he’d met in Vegas. That Billy had watched everything with wary eyes, posture tense, too skinny and his skin pale from so much time inside, suspicious of everyone and everything around him.

Goodnight had still found him the most beautiful man alive back then. But the Billy that had emerged these past six months was nothing short of a wonder. He was tanned and golden, muscles strong and healthy from hours spent swimming and doing work on the boat every day. His quietness from before had made him seem pent-up, almost like it was a defense. But any stretches of silence these days seemed borne of confidence instead, telling Goodnight what he thought of something with an eloquent lift of his eyebrows or a mere quirk to his lips. He was relaxed, cocky, so dry-as-dust funny he made Goodnight’s sides hurt, and so vibrantly self-possessed Goodnight felt he was seeing the real Billy Rocks come out more and more every day, leaving behind the buttoned-up Billy he’d met in Vegas as Billy gradually remembered how to be himself.

Hardest DVD commentary paragraph for last, but Billy was often a challenge to write in this one. I kept trying to write him as the Billy Rocks I’m used to - the one described in this paragraph - but he kept coming out as so wary, wound tight, and extremely vulnerable. But then again, why wouldn’t he be?? If you think about it, his situation is HORRIBLE. I think it’s realistic that he would feel extremely vulnerable and defensive, so that’s the Billy I ended up writing for much of the fic. And I told myself that the Billy we see on the yacht is when we finally see the REAL Billy Rocks….long hair and all:) Although if I can briefly mention the next paragraph, (‘Sometimes Billy would withdraw, and Goodnight knew he was retreating to years of repression and tension and wondering what he could have done differently to have changed his situation, or wondering if there was nothing he could have done at all. Sometimes it was hard to know which was worse.’) I felt it was really important to include that to show he’s not going to get over it just like that, or just because he has a nice house now. Billy would realistically have some ptsd for a long time after spending 10 years trapped and under extreme mental pressure. So it’ll definitely take Billy a while to cope with, but he has a much better footing to do it now, and I imagine given time, he’ll be even more like the Billy Rocks we’re all used to. And I like the last words of “Billy gradually remembered how to be himself”, because I’ve found in my own experience when it comes to getting over a traumatic period, those little flashes where you feel completely normal and like yourself again do feel like ‘remembering’ in a strange way. Like your whole body is remembering or something. So while it will still be a struggle sometimes, the more he remembers, the more like himself he’ll stay.

(P.S. Still not entirely sure if I’d do a sequel or if it’s just an idea to amuse myself with sometimes haha, but I’m sure the Billy Rocks in any ‘Chisolm’s 8′ would be more what we’re used to haha. And my image of the team meeting up again for the first time would contain a lot of whistles and ‘damn Billy’ and Billy’s just like ‘what??!’ and all alarmed by the attention, much like how he met them for the first time, and Sam’s just amused like “Nothing. You look good, Billy,” and Goody trails in after with him a dreamy smile all like “Doesn’t he though?”. Smitten, styling, criminals ‘till the last haha. And yes, Billy absolutely keeps the hair haha)

Thanks for the ask!:)

#fontainebleau22 #asks #writing #shares #long post

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quietbreeze97 · 7 years

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Horizon | Chapter 3: Natalia, Part II

Author's Note: I'm SOOOOO sorry this took ages to upload! I've had a lot on my plate recently in regards to university, as any student can understand, and I've had some struggles figuring out how the plot of this story will work.

Finally, though, I have something for you to read. I've started chapter 4 so hopefully updates will be quicker from now on. Thanks for your patience! And enjoy!

"Hello?" A half-awake voice mumbled into the phone.

"Come home, now."

"Wh-what?"

"Are you listening to me, Natalia? I need you home now!"

"R-right… I'm just waking up."

"Oh, of course, I should have guessed." Her mother's voice dripped with so much sarcasm she could picture her eyes rolling. "Are you going to take me seriously for once in your life?"

Natalia brought the phone away from her ear as the shouting shook her eardrums, not doing any favours for her already throbbing head. A gentle hand fondled her waist as she leaned forward to check the clock.

11:40 AM.

Well. She'd had worse lie-ins.

"I am, Mum, I'm just… tired," she explained with a hand over her eyes. "I… I don't know what happened last n-"

"Oh, I bet you don't! God knows what you get up to! You'd better be home in an hour and I'll come and find you myself!"

Natalia blinked as the call went dead, her tired body stunned from the outburst. She felt Kayne's fingers curl around her bare shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

His voice was gentle as he spoke, lips brushing against her earlobe. She briefly recalled the contact they'd shared the previous night, but nowhere could she remember the point she'd climbed into bed with him. Regardless, she couldn't help feeling grateful that he was here now, though the sheets around them both made her feel an odd discomfort.

"Nothing," she said quickly, sliding out of his arms and reaching for her shoes, as if to distract herself. She didn't look Kayne in the eyes, but she could feel his gaze on her unclothed back. "Let me know if you need any help."

"Yeah, sure," she muttered dismissively, throwing her top over her head. "I've got to run."

When she was finally dressed, she turned to stare at him. Kayne looked like he wanted to give her a proper goodbye. He was sitting up, eyes wide and curious, and the covers had fallen to reveal his pale, well-built torso. Natalia tried not to let her gaze wander on his skin for too long.

"I'll see you tomorrow-"

"Yeah, bye." With her quick reply, she marched out of the room, trying not to let reality cross her mind. She had something more important to deal with.

"Oh, only took you a few weeks. No big deal."

Natalia was hoping her mood would be lifted upon arriving home, but all she got was the sarcastic voice of her mother as she tore off her muddy heels. Her heart quickly sank as she saw the folded arms of the woman standing with her waist against the wall.

"Sorry," she said, somewhat indifferently.

"Never mind 'sorry'!"

Her mum, Jodie, a thin woman with jet black hair and perfectly pointed hips, had an almost dismayed look in her eyes as she approached her daughter, barely letting her shed her coat and shoes. "Why don't you tell me where you've been all night?"

"Just out." Natalia kept her eyes on the floor as she shoved her jacket onto the coat hook.

"Out where?"

"With friends."

"With Kayne, I imagine."

At the mention of his name, Natalia bit her lip, her stare focused on the wall.

"Were you with him?" Jodie asked loudly.

"Yes," Natalia snapped, her head low as she tried to suppress her anger. "Is that a problem?"

"You've been with him all night. That's the problem."

"Meaning what? We didn't do much. Danced, drank a little, talked."

"Did you sleep with him?"

She met her mother's eyes at last, unable to hide her shock. She stood in silence for far too long to give a convincing response. "I…"

"Oh my god, you did, didn't you?"

"Mum, just leave it."

Jodie made a noise that sounded like she had tasted something revolting. "I can't believe you!" she growled, holding out clenched fingers. "When did you get so irresponsible that you prefer sleeping around to being with your family?"

"Don't talk to me like that!" Natalia found herself shouting, actually stepping forward a little.

"I'll say anything I want if it gets you out of this hole you're stuck in! Who do you think you are, Nat? Nineteen years old and all you can think about is yourself!"

"That is not all I think about!"

"Prove it! Stay at home more often! Help me out! Help your sister! And just stop-…"

Before she could finish her sentence, the two of them fell silent upon hearing the same sound. Small, quiet feet shuffling on the carpet nearby. Natalia's heart sank as her eyes landed on Grace peeking around the doorway, her chestnut hair a mess as she clutched her teddy to her chest like a shield. In an uncomfortable moment of silence, she stepped forward, as if to hug her, but too afraid to.

"Grace, i-it's okay. We were just… it's okay, Grace."

"Go upstairs, darling," Jodie suddenly put in, her voice all sweetness in front of the young girl. "I'll be with you soon."

Natalia hoped those weren't tears glistening in the tiny girl's eyes as she retreated slowly, her footsteps making empty sounds as she climbed the stairs. The silence that followed was enough to make her think, and realise what she had done.

"You know," Jodie began, almost conversationally. "It's bad enough that you turn your back on me, but to do that to your sister? That's really shitty."

The relationship with her sister meant everything to Natalia. The thought that she might have hurt her made her feel like the world had collapsed, and she couldn't sit comfortably without fixing it. She had been in her room for a long time, her eyes on her camera as she flicked through her photos. A restlessness was taking over her, making her legs unstable on her bed and her fingers oddly tight as they clutched her camera.

Deciding she'd put if off for long enough, she abandoned her photos for one day, creeping into the hallway and towards Grace's room.

She gently pushed the door open to find her sister with a book open on her crossed legs. She was so absorbed that it took her a few moments to realise Natalia was there, and it was rather endearing when her large, innocent eyes met hers so suddenly.

"Hey, honey."

Grace shuffled on her bed to let Natalia join her, her book tumbling from her grasp. The little girl smelt of an odd lavender scent that Natalia had always found fascinating. It was as if she sprayed perfume on her neck every day, but she knew that wasn't the case. It was a natural smell that soothed her senses and made her want to cradle her small body to her at all times.

Her room smelt of it too: a flowery scent, mixed with candle wax and fruit juice. The sun was warm as it filtered through the window onto Natalia's bare arms.

She leaned over Grace's shoulder inquisitively. "What 'cha reading?"

With two fingers in her mouth, Grace closed the book to show her sister the cover: a drawing of a blonde girl staring up at a striped cat in the tree. Natalia smiled.

"Alice in Wonderland. Still your favourite?"

The girl nodded silently as Natalia brought a caring arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed between them. She was taken back to when they were younger: Grace was so small she could sit on her lap, and they would huddle in the warm light of the room as Natalia read the book in a soft voice, earning giggles as she impersonated the Cheshire Cat.

But then she remembered the present, and she bit her lip. It felt wrong. Awkward, almost. Despite it all, she clutched Grace around the waist, as if it would stop their bond from ever breaking again. This was better, in a way. All her worries about Kayne, and where she stood in her life; none of it would bother her if she just stayed with her sister and let it all fade away.

An idea came to her.

"Listen," she began to say, stroking Grace's shoulder with her thumb. "Don't worry about Mum and me. We're fine. But you know what I really need right now? Grace-time." She emphasized the words with a playful grin, poking her sister's ribs to elicit a chuckle. "It's been a while since it was just you and me, right?"

Grace nodded, silent apart from the noises she made as she chewed her fingers. "I'm going to make you some food," Natalia whispered, "and then we can do whatever you like. We'll play that game you love. Remember the one with the blackbirds in the nest?"

Grace beamed up at her, making Natalia's heart flutter. She didn't need words. Just the smile was enough. "We'll do that for sure. You've just got to be patient and wait for me. Okay?"

Another quiet nod. Natalia smiled and brought her in for a hug, relishing the feeling for a few moments. She wondered for a moment if she'd made plans with friends and forgotten about them. There were often things going on after all.

In the end, she decided it didn't matter. They'd have to miss out on her company for one day.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Natalia blurted out as she came into the kitchen for food.

Jodie still wouldn't look at her. It ironically reminded Natalia of a stubborn teenager as she kept her back turned at the sink. "I bet you are."

Natalia ignored the coldness in her voice, getting plates out of the cupboard. She grabbed the one with a colourful image of Looney Tunes characters around the edge, knowing it was Grace's favourite.

"Grace is fine. I talked to her."

"And what did you say?"

"Just… sister stuff. Why do I have to explain?"

"Oh, no reason at all."

Natalia decided to keep silent as she shoved some thick, potato waffles into the oven. And that was when her phone rang.

She ignored it at first, blocking out the buzzing noises as she wiped her hands with a towel. Phone calls meant people, people meant friends, and friends usually meant invitations. She didn't need invitations. Not right now.

"Are you going to answer your phone?"

"No, I'm not."

"Al right. Do you want me to talk to one of your boyfriends instead?"

"Oh, Mum, leave it!"

Natalia threw the towel to the floor, swiping her phone off the counter, and answering it without even checking the number.

"Hello?" she asked loudly.

"Hey. You sound cheerful. Are you Natalia Rogers?"

It was a low and raspy male voice she didn't recognize, and his question immediately put her on edge.

"E-excuse me?" she asked.

"Natalia Rogers, is that you?" he repeated impatiently. "We saw your photos on the internet. Don't ask why, but we wanna talk to you about 'em."

"Sorry, but who is this? I'm not in the mood for prank calls."

"Hey, listen, if I wanted to prank call you, I wouldn't go about it this way. I definitely wouldn't ask what your name is, for one thing."

"How did you get my number?"

An awkward pause from the other end. "Err… phone book?"

"Yeah, right!" Natalia exclaimed. "I'm hanging up."

"No, wait!" She listened reluctantly as the young man sighed from the other end. "Look, can you meet us after college on Monday night? We just want to talk."

Natalia didn't know how to reply, shaking her head in confusion. She could feel Jodie's quizzical glances on her back. "Why should I?" she asked, walking slowly out of earshot. "You could be anyone."

"True. But I really want my brother off my back, so for my sake, will you just come?"

So a stranger wanted to talk about her photos. To be specific, her rather ordinary photos that she had taken just for practice. It was odd, to say the least, but Natalia's desperation to get off the phone was enough to make her sigh in resignation. "Whatever. I finish classes at four o'clock."

"Sweet. See you then."

"Hold on a minute!" she said quickly. "What's your name?"

"Stan Pines."

"Are you in any of my classes?"

"Eh. Can't remember off the top of my head. I'll know when I see ya."

There was a faint click, and the line went off. How polite, she thought. But also running through her head were a million questions she didn't know the answers to.

Since when had she received mystery calls from strangers? Except when they were hook-ups from a drunk night that she'd lose memory of. This was the kind of thing that got girls like her killed. Somehow, though, she didn't sense a threat from this person. The voice was familiar, although she couldn't quite place it, but it was enough to make her accept the request.

Still, what was so important about some photos she'd taken of the woods?

"Who was it?"

Natalia put a hand to her heart in shock as Jodie's voice sounded behind her. "Someone from school."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

She looked away from her mother's gaze, collecting the cooked waffles from the kitchen, flattening her hair out, and making her way to the stairs.

"See you later," she muttered, climbing each stair while repeating one thought over and over in her head.

Let's just have a quiet weekend. A quiet. Weekend.

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