Gwyneth Hathaway (watercolour) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-11-14 18:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-08-02, gwyneth |
You might be a big fish
Who: Gwyneth and her new familiar, Ginevra
Where: the Hathaway home
When: afternoon
Gwyneth had planned to swim, or at the very least stretch out by the pool, but the storms had put those plans to rest. Rain alone wouldn’t bother her - she’d been swimming plenty of times while it was raining, even when it was too cold for most people - but the wind was problematic. Lightning wouldn’t have been much of a risk as long as she wasn’t actually in the pool, but Gwyneth didn’t fancy the idea of her sarong flapping violently about her legs and her hair whipping into her face while she tried to relax. So she did the next best thing and parked in one of the chaise lounges that had been brought into the enclosed sun room to avoid being damaged in the storm.
She’d been there for over an hour, her hand around the cold drink that rested on the small table next to her - her third at least - and her eyes closed peacefully when a sudden thwack! against the glass walls of the sun room startled her and made her sit up. When she didn’t see anyone, she started relaxing back against the cushions only to be stopped by the sound of flapping wings wetly hitting the glass.
Gwyneth adjusted her gaze downwards and saw a very impatient-looking swan seemingly attempting to get inside. “It’s a window, stupid bird. Turn around and go the other way!” It was always a bit gory when a bird flung itself against a window, and Gwyneth really didn’t want to have to stare at large bloody streaks until the storm ended and someone could clean the glass. Needless to say, she wasn’t expecting the swan to stop what it was doing, and she certainly didn’t expect it to reply. And yet.
The swan stopped what it was doing and stared right at her, looking none too pleased. I wouldn’t have to throw myself at the glass if you’d open the door already, you lazy turd!
For a very long moment, Gwyneth did nothing but stare, completely bewildered. Sure, she’d been drinking, but she’d never hallucinated before while drunk and didn’t intend to start now, especially when she was barely tipsy. Apparently unsatisfied with Gwyneth’s delayed response, the swan flapped its wings again agitatedly. You are going to be royally screwed if you leave me out here and I’m struck by lightning or a flying lawn chair, she threatened. Not that the swan was worried about being hit by lightning - that was highly unlikely - but anything that got Gwyneth to get off her ass and let her inside was a threat worth making.
Stunned, Gwyneth managed to stand up and let the swan inside, though she clung to her drink in one hand like a lifeline. As soon as the swan stepped inside, she shook the water off her back and waddled right over to one of the love seats. Using her beak, she tugged one of the pillows onto the floor and then settled herself on it, sighing so that Gwyneth could hear it even though Gwyneth was absolutely sure that swans weren’t supposed to sigh. Much better. The swan looked up at Gwyneth, who seemed to have gotten stuck standing by the door, shocked into stillness. Are you going to sit down, or do you go catatonic every time you’re surprised?
“You’re very rude for a swan,” Gwyneth blurted out without thinking. Are swans known for being polite? the swan inquired, sighing again when Gwyneth failed to answer. My name is Ginevra. I’m your familiar.
“Pardon?”
Your familiar.
“Excuse me?”
Your familiar. Are you mentally ill or merely ignorant?
Gwyneth spluttered and sat down hard. Apparently realizing that she still had her drink in her hand, she drained the rest of it rather quickly and then looked forlornly at the bottom of the glass as if had betrayed her by being empty. “But you’re a swan.”
Your powers of observation are simply astounding.
“Aren’t familiars supposed to be cats?”
Are you a witch?
“What? Of course not. And shouldn’t you know that?”
I know everything about you. But I figured if you’re going to ask stupid questions, I might as well do the same thing. When Gwyneth didn’t reply but instead sulkily poured herself another margarita from the pitcher the housekeeper had oh so kindly left for her, Ginevra continued. Familiars can be anything. You’re a water elemental, so a swan seems rather more fitting, doesn’t it? Gwyneth didn’t answer, too busy studying her suspiciously.
Ginevra sighed once more, something she rather suspected would become habit. I can help you learn how to keep your drinks cold, she told Gwyneth, sounding put out that she’d have to reduce herself to such base methods of enticement. As if the privilege of having a familiar wasn’t enough on its own. Some people.
“...seriously?”
Eventually. That’s a bit beyond your current abilities right now, but yes. Gwyneth seemed unconvinced, but she wasn’t actively protesting, either. That had to be a start.