The Black Pot

*great, late to my own introduction*

Elric has been sitting in a quiet corner for some time: a tall, gaunt man with bone-white skin and hair and large red eyes which are to slanted to be truely human. He looks very tired – which he is. His face and hair are not exactly dirty but there are vestiges of blood and grime: he looks like has tried to wash himself with seawater. His clothes are ill-fitting and look as if they had been stolen from a clothesline, which is the case.

He is watching, trying to understand what is going on. He has seen places like this before: Places where the uprooted, exiled, the lost of the multiverse are thrown togehter. For a place like that, this one is not bad at all. It’s civilized, if not exactly cultured. The people are friendly and realxed and seem actually to enjoy their stay. He will find out soon why he has been brought here – of that he is certain. He does not even feel especially weak although he has lost his soul-eating sword – in fact he doesn’t feel any weaker than an ordinary human should after some days without decent food. And that is a miracle indeed, because if he had been in his own world, he would by now have been dying.

So he is certainly better off here than in his own time and place – everything is better than certain death, isn’t it – especially when death does not mean release. Since death will never grant him release – he knows that now – he will accept this respite, long or short as it might be, as a gift. He will try to find out what laws and rules govern this place. Best he’ll just go along with the local customs. The predominat custom in this place seems to be to introduce oneself if one has arrived recently and than to give one’s oppinion on some rather strange topic. So he will do that.

Talking about in-laws doesn’t sit well with him. Zarozinia’s loss is still a fresh wound; but on the other hand she deserves praise, and she would have wanted him to carry on.

He gets to his feet and bows slightly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am Elric of Melniboné. I have only recently arrived here. I gather that it is your custom to give an oppinion on a given topic, so if you do not tell me otherwise, I will gladly give you mine.”

He takes a moment to pull himself together. He’ll just have to go through with it...

“I married late in life, an our time together was only short.” He clears his throat, but then rapidly continues: “My late wife, Zarozinia, was the best thing that ever happened in my life. She was all a man could desire: young, and strong, and beautiful. She was also level-headed, down-to-earth and very brave. If she had a flaw than it was her compassion and her folly to marry me.”

He looks around, and his eyes rest for a moment on Sirius. “Now the gentleman who made the last but one statement certainly has a point: the family of your beloved certainly can be a horror. I should know that, because many years ago, long before I ever met Zarozinia, I was going to marry my cousin, and that would have meant the worst in-law you could get. Not a family I’d reccomend marrying into, this family of mine...”

His eyes look distant, and whatever he sees doesn’t seem to be pleasant.

“But this never happened, and the in-laws I got in the end... they were among the best people I ever met. If you had known Lord Voashoon, you would not have wondered where my wife had gotten her level-headedness, her compassion or her courage, because her father had all of that, too. He gave his only daughter to me – a man of the worst reputation at that time, and believe me, not without reason. But even if he wasn’t happy with her choice at first, he trusted her judegment enough to let me marry her, and he gave us a home in his city Karlaak. In the short time we had there, I had the only peace I’ve ever known. My fater-in-law did not care at all wether the rest of the world loathed him for that. And later... he was steadfast to the very end. I dare say that I was very fortunate when ist comes to in-laws.”

He sits down, his eyes down-cast.

With a velvet-glove smile, Xellos says mildly, "I have to agree with Garak-san about the attractiveness of saying unkind things about one's family--and, moreover, a family that one has chosen to attach oneself to, although of course," he amends politely, "some marriages require the consent of neither party.

"For myself," he goes on, quite in earnest, "while I've never, Bright Lady be praised, had to subject those I care for to the bloodbaths and relationship-scarring trauma of wedding planning and such formalities, there is a family that I might call my not-in-laws. When it's asked of me to tell an amusing story about how horrible they are, all I can think of," he says, smile turning more overtly edged, "is how my father- and mother-not-in-law were so far beyond gracious to me that Shaeriel-chan sent long letters and packages every week when I was alone and unhappy and Rezo so far away we could only write every few months, and how after we were apart, his wife wouldn't allow us to be enemies no matter how terrible things were between us at the beginning, and how good they became when we both accepted we were both around for good. I have godchildren descending from that marriage--they both insisted, every time." And if having a godfather in his position made the kids safer than anything else would have, well, being practical didn't make Vera-chan less a friend.

He goes back to leafing through his album.

With apologies for tardiness (February. Short. Good morning!) and for old and inconsistently complete art.

"It can't be said that they serve no useful purpose. If nothing else, your putative in-laws should make you stop and think about whether or not your Love is really the one who you want to spend the rest of your life with. Or if being with your Love for the rest of your lives makes up for having to put up with them.

"Other than that... Well. I can't really think of anything else your in-laws can do for you." Sirius' lips curve upwards, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. "That's where the reputation comes from, isn't it? It's not you they're looking out for. It's your Love. And unfortunately, most of their favours seem to consist of convincing your love that you aren't good enough, and that they could do quite a lot better than you."

He and Remus hadn't told their parents for a number of reasons, but chief amongst those reasons was the fact that Remus was a half-blood, and therefore not good enough for a Black, and Sirius was a Black, and therefore too much of a snotty, pureblood delinquent for the son of a blood-traitor.

"As for my mother..." Someone is going to bring up his inbreeding - it might as well be him. "She firmly believed that the only bride-to-be who could come anywhere close to being good enough for her boy was one who'd been brought up in the same House, and had been trained from birth to..." Sirius pauses. His smile still doesn't reach his eyes, but he laughs with dark amusement. "To please me."

It's an effort to keep himself from looking around the room for Lucius. "And even then, Mother didn't think she was good enough for me, and my cousin was handed off to... someone else." This time, his smile appears genuine, and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

"I suppose it's reasonable to say that if the girl that she'd specifically picked out for me failed to pass muster, Mother wouldn't have been terribly impressed with anybody I found for myself. So it's probably just as well I didn't bother bringing anybody else home. At least, not while she was alive."

And for all his precautions, she'd still made her displeasure known, loud enough wake all of the other portraits and frighten all of his guests.

Sirius hides his smile behind his teacup.

"I never got married. I've never even had a steady girlfriend for more than a few months." And he's been resigned to that for a long time, to pretending for sweet girls who claimed to be in love with him and who he hated to hurt. To being the one who showed up single to family gatherings while his sisters brought their boyfriends and his cousins brought their girlfriends and then fiancees and then wives and kids.

( I do have a pretty good mother-in-law story, though. )

A decorator’s nightmare, Garak thinks and turns around, not looking at anyone or anything in particular. Julian and he have spent hours playing the ‘James Bond’ holosuite adventures Julian has been so fond of and now he’s truly grateful that his friend had cajoled him into playing his rather boring spy game. While he still thinks that the terrestrial twentieth century must have been the Golden Age of Fashion Crisis, neither the café nor its customers seem truly alien to him. A small favour.

Masking his discomfort with his best lizard smile, he takes a deep breath and pulls back the hood that has been hiding his face. “Ah, good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m very pleased to meet you all.” He inclines his head. “Miss Six has been so kind to tell me about this lovely café,” he searches the crowd for Caprica’s face and when he sees her sitting at one of the tables, his smile widens and he gives another short nod in her direction.

Then, he straightens his posture, hands folding in front of him and his pale eyes wander from ridgeless face to ridgeless face. Most of the other residents seem to be human - or at least perfect look-alikes.
“Before I give you the Cardassian opinion on in-laws, let me introduce myself. My name is Garak and I… arrived this very morning. One minute I was flying home, to Cardassia – lovely planet in the Alpha Quadrant you should visit as soon as your kind discovers it – and the next minute I find myself waking up in the burning remnants of my crashed shuttle. I’d love to give you more details on this rather unfortunate event, but I’m just a tailor and not a spaceman by profession.”
He shrugs. “So, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to provide you with any new insights on the strange occurrence that brought us here, but should someone of you be interested in a well-tailored dress or a handmade suit, I would be most grateful if you’d contact me – I happen to have dates available. And since I spent nearly ten years living among your kind I’m accustomed to most designs and fashion lines favoured by Humans.”

He pauses, using the time to watch the different people, the different styles and clothes again. “Oh, and should someone of you have a liking for, let’s say extravagant couture, I’m also willing to sell the small amount of truly exclusive fabrics that survived my unfortunate landing manoeuvre.” His lips stretch into an open grin, usually reserved for new customers and Chief O’Brien.

“Now, what could I possibly tell you about in-laws?” The ridges that frame his light eyes move upwards, the Cardassian equivalent of a frown. “I’ve always wondered about the tendency of your kind to discuss matters as private as family with other people. On the space station where I spent nearly a decade working for the Starfleet personnel I heard many stories about faithless life-partners or nosy mothers-in-law and still, after all this time among Humans, it’s still a little disconcerting for me. Cardassians would never… gossip about family – and therefore, please forgive me, if I don’t elaborate on mine.”

"Family is family, however ya got it. Where I come from, a family is what ya make yourself. Growin' up, my family was a handful of street brats that stuck together to stay alive. In the end, only two of us were left." Renji smiled even though the memories were bittersweet. "Not a drop of blood between us, and I love her more'n anyone."

A more recent memory widened his smile. "I got some good friends at home that I'd trust with my life - but not my booze. One friend in particular means an awful lot, and he's got two pretty great sisters. They took me in and... well they treat me just like one of the family. They're the closest thing I got to in-laws, so I guess I got lucky there." Renji made a face and rolled his eyes. "Though his dad is a nutjob, so I'm kinda glad he ain't adopted me, too."

“May I be so bold as to suggest a demographic survey or two before we manage to exclude the entire group from having a contribution? Saints, in-laws, male pregnancy – I don’t think it would be such a bad thing to discuss topics of slightly more widespread relevance. In any other venue it would be considered extremely inappropriate to propose topics of conversation that are really somewhat limited by religion, or life experiences that, I should hardly need to remark, we cannot count upon having in common.”

She strains the sharpness from her voice with care, and continues.

( ”In )

Holmes steepled his fingers under his chin. "Personally, I know nothing of in-laws. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment. There is danger for him that takes a tiger cub and danger also for those who snatch a delusion from a woman. And pity the poor thing who marries a woman’s son, for she has done both, taken the cub from its mother and snatched away the delusion that her son is hers forever. And all for that noblest of reasons, love. But love is an emotional thing and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. If you will permit me to quote from Sir James Frazier: 'The awe and dread with which the untutored savage contemplates his mother-in-law are amongst the most familiar facts of anthropology.' You are far more likely to be harmed or killed by someone you know than by a complete stranger. Hardly a matter for jokes, in my opinion."

He lit a cigarette and sat back, puffing thoughtfully

He can't help but grin. "I have to say that I got on very well indeed with my in-laws. Ran away with one of them, in fact."

He shrugs, "The others... well, perhaps we didn't get along as well as that"

"You see, the odd thing about Pure-blood families is how interconnected everyone is. It's rather strange, to be related to someone by marriage twice over. Take the Lestranges, for instance. Through my marriage to Narcissa, I'm related to her sister Bellatrix Lestrange, nee Black, and her husband Rodolphus and of course, his younger brother, Rabastan. Now I'm engaged to Rabastan, I am to be related to Rodolphus, his wife, and her sister, my ex-wife… although as she isn't here in Margate, or in this particular plain of existence, I don't think I can even go as far as to call her my ex-wife. As she doesn't exist, our marriage can't either." That apparently gives him rather a lot of pleasure, considering the shine in his eyes and the smile on his face. “So, by my reckoning at least, I don’t have any in-laws anymore.”

"I can't say… I'm overly excited by the prospect of Rodolphus's arrival; I can’t imagine he is going to be most pleased. He wasn’t very happy when he found out back home,” he reaches up to his nose, magically fixed, as well as his jaw, after Rodolphus found out about Lucius’ affair with his younger brother. “Although the sooner he turns up the sooner Rabastan and I can get married…" He shrugs again, "As long as Bellatrix turns up to keep him under control. Bella keeps everyone under control." He glances up towards Dahlia and can't help but smirk.

Sanzo lets his disinterest in the topic show when it comes to his turn, but in truth he’s not sure what the fuck to say about it.

“In-laws,” he mutters after a moment, turning the phrase over in his mouth. “I can’t say I’ve ever had the opportunity to deal with them, for which I suppose I should be glad. Given that I’m a Buddhist monk - and as far as I know, an only child - it’s highly unlikely I’ll ever have to.” He adds a hint of sarcasm to the last statement, although he figures it’s worth saying, considering today there are a few new faces at the café and he’s not wearing his formal robes, but rather a more casual, Western ensemble. ( Read more... )

Susan listens to the topic with an incredulous expression. "Mothers-in-law? Really? I know I complained about the 'saints' not really being relevant to a Jew, but come on, didn't have to go with a stereotype trying to make me more comfortable." She has to think for a bit to remember anyone's in-laws she's ever met.

"I think I've met some mothers-in-law in the past, at temple. Uncle Yossel— not actually related, but Rabbi Koslov— I think he might've been someone's brother-in-law. And my old C.O., John, sometimes talked about his former in-laws. He just got married for the third time before I ended up here, so he's had his share of them. He had a father-in-law who used to be a marine officer, so I imagine he was pretty damned overprotective. And John's parents are great, so I think they'll make good in-laws to his new wife, although I'm not sure if the Minbari have such a thing as in-laws." She pauses to sip some water, which she figures is a safer drink in this place than anything else they serve.

"No in-laws of any kind for me, though. Neither of my parents had siblings, and my brother was never married. If I'd ever had a relationship with the last person I loved, or if I ever get out of here and it somehow works out that we're in a position to, neither of us would have in-laws. He lost his parents and brother, too. And as for the last person I did have a relationship with, well..."

She stops and thinks. The Corps is Mother; the Corps is Father. Talk about in-laws from hell. Whoever Talia's birth parents had been, they had ceased to be family when she was pulled into the Corps. "Yeah, no. Still wouldn't have had in-laws. But if things were different, I don't think my mother would've been anywhere close to a bossy, nosy mother-in-law. She just wasn't like that."

“Dude,” Tyler doesn’t even bother to stand up, knowing that he won’t need more than five minutes for this topic. “In-laws… Well, I've never been married, but I had a girlfriend for quite some time. Why buy the horse when the ride's for free?” He shrugs and takes a long drag on his cigarette, his mouth twitching into a self-satisfied grin. Oh, sweet memories.

“Marla was one of those anorexic-looking girls, y’know. One you’d take out for dinner just so she’d have some calories to burn later.” Another smug grin, the half-smoked cigarette dancing between his fingers. “And her mother was the exact opposite. A whale. And she always called and whined about all the fat and cellulites.” He shudders. “Disgusting, really. Marla always wanted me to compliment her mommy and say something like ‘Oh, no, Momma Singer, you don’t look like a whale – at least not like one of those huge pot whales.’ But, y’know, I’m not a liar and so you can probably imagine that our relationship got pretty soon pretty bad.” Stretching lazily in his chair, he takes a look at the other residents. “Who needs family, anyway? I’ve got Jack and that’s more family than I ever wanted.”

"It seems our good proprietors wish to continue baiting us all with their choices of topic," Isabel speaks when the room is quiet. She does not, however, bother to rise. "I myself, having never married, do not know first-hand the joys, or ills, of parents-in-law." Her smile seems to imply gratitude to the powers of Heaven that this is so. "Yet, I do know of the disasters that are in-laws thanks to having a brother bound to wed." Her expression darkens.

"By the actions of the first sister-in-law, I can all too readily guess why mothers-in-law suffer so badly in reputation. Sylvana came into the family bearing notions that she was of far greater import than she was. She sought to take positions in the family that were not hers, and I can easily imagine her mother's tongue whispering those poisonous words in her ear. Would that God didn't take her into His mercy, I don't know what I should have done. God is great," Isabel smirks to no one in particular.

"The second sister-in-law, Marcella, was a docile sheep that none could find fault with. She was dutiful and quiet spoken, and I think that my brother was fond of her in his own manner. Sadly, her mind was as meek as her manner, and after bearing three fine children to my brother, she hung herself." She shakes her head, a bit sadly, but with no great concern.

Her thoughts turn inward for a bit. "By the time my son was of an age to marry, I was happy to merely advise on a choice of wife, content to leave much of the details to his father. I had no desire in playing mother to anyone else, as long as Marcus was content, then so was I."

"Now cousins," she sighs. "They are no end of trouble."

"Mothers-in-law are much maligned, and perhaps there’s reason for it, perhaps only a few destroy the reputations of the rest. Myself I cannot judge for having never had one, as my wife’s mother was gone to rest many years before I knew her, but my father-in-law was a good and upright man, and I’d not hear word spoken against him. This violates perhaps the spirit of the question. Ah, well – one of the few pities of coming here; I think not that my mother-in-law jokes make sense anymore. In any case, they’re less than suitable for company so liberally mixed, so I shall hold my peace." He grins, toasts the room with his glass of water, and leans back in his chair.

"In-laws..." Cesare mutters, straightening his cuffs, lazily winding up his wristwatch. "To give truth the honour, I never knew my suocera, my mother-in-law. My suocero, Alain d'Albret, yes; I had the pleasure. He haggled and bartered for his Carlota as if she were a prize mare. The things he wanted to see stipulated... a cardinal's hat for this relative, a fat prebend for that one, no tithes for years to come... when all that truly mattered was a well-connected fig. That, and a papal dispensation for King Louis."

It's ungracious that he should speak thus of a woman who loved him well. The sad thing is, he doesn't really remember what Carlota looked like. Her face has become blurry, even if he remembers her hair. And her hands. Her hands had trembled at first, but they'd grown bolder during the few weeks that followed.

"I'm a little more familiar with cognati, though. Brothers-in-law. Mine were feeble, useless creatures, I regret to say. The first fled in terror at the first sign of trouble. The second made bad political choices, like shooting crossbow arrows in the garden and such. The third was a miser I couldn't count on, if he could be dragged off my sister for long enough. Too bad one can't tell that before, can one, just by looking at them. Brothers-in-law are a bit like onions, if you'll excuse the pun. You never know what's inside of them until you cut them up."

Dr. McCoy sighs. It figures that the topic would be about in-laws. The last thing he wanted to think about was his marriage to what's her name and the disaster that followed. But he takes a deep breath and starts talking anyway.

"I was married once, several years ago, when I was in med school. And boy, did I have the in-laws from hell. I don't know if any of you have been to the South, but despite all of the technological advances, culturally, it's still the same it was hundreds of years ago. There are families with old money and roots that date back all the way to the Civil War. And if you weren't in that circle, you weren't much of anythin' in that society."

He pauses, trying to stay on track with his story. "Anyway, my family wasn't part of that circle. My ex-wife's was. She'd been practically betrothed to another guy from a prominent Southern family, but she chose me in an act of rebellion. And you can imagine how her parents reacted to that."

He stops again, letting people draw their own conclusions. "They only began to tolerate me when we had Joanna, my daughter. Because now they had someone to continue their lineage." He snorts. "For whatever that's worth."

He didn't realize there was still so much bitterness there until now. He'd never really talked about his disaster of a marriage with anyone, not even Jim and Spock. Sure, he and Jocelyn have been separated for about 15 years, but the divorce had only been made official a few years ago. And it still ached.

"So long story short, she cheated on me with her old boyfriend, so I left and joined Starfleet. Last I heard, she was still with him, so I'm sure the ex-in-laws are very happy now."

He probably should have left that last part off. He really needs to learn to control his mouth, especially when it comes to personal stuff like this. He sits back down and takes a sip of coffee and waits for the next person to say his or her piece.

Never married, nor having ever thought about it for an extended period of time, the concept of in-laws hasn't quite crossed Balthier's mind until now. He'd known quite a few women in his day, but only two had ever managed to hold his attention for any quantity of time. Now that he thought on it, neither of them had any parents to speak of (one's parents were both deceased and the other, well, he still isn't entirely sure the viera even have parents), so it isn't as if he could've pondered it then. Absently listening to the others, Balthier thinks back. After his mother had passed on, his father never had remarried, so he hadn't even a step-mother to use for comparison. He's heard rumors, of course, in the past, when he was still a fledgling runaway, and even before that, when his father had him running around with the children of the gentry, of nosy, bothersome in-laws and overbearing and even abusive step-parents. Balthier remembers being grateful he'd never had to suffer any of that nonsense. Not even an arranged marriage. He supposes he has to thank his father for that much at least.

"Seeing as I've never been married, nor have I ever met the parents of any of the women from my past, I believe it is safe to say that I've no particular opinion on this topic. However," he pauses for effect, "I will say that from hearing tales in the past, I can say with some assurance, that this is a good thing."

“Oh, oh, oh, my turn next!”

Abby says, smiling brightly, jumping to her feet and taking a sip at her glass of cola through the white and red striped straw before she begins. She'd wandered into the café ages ago, taking a break trying to get out of this place. She'd being driving herself crazy trying to make it all the way down the road that led to Canterbury, always ending back at the other end, by the beach, when she reached the town's edge. It had given her a headache, and rather have to deal with the Quantum Physics of it all, she blamed it on a lack of Caf-Pow. And so some helpful locals, who had watched her for the past ten minutes beat her fits against thin air, told her to visit the café where they said all the 'weirdos' hung-out. They'd given her some odd looks at the time too.

She'd been expecting a different type of weirdo, her sort of weirdo, but this group seemed pretty weird anyway. But when in Kansus...

“In-laws are like your adopted family, aren't they? I don’t have anything like that. I can’t imagine having any extra family.” She’d hardly met any of her ex’s parents, let alone be related to them through marriage. “Can’t imagine being married. Almost was, when I was in High School, but he was a jerk. If I was going to get married, Gibbs would want to pick who I got hitched to. He doesn't trust my taste. And he’s way too over-protective.” Apart from no-one here knew Gibbs here, and she should probably explain. “He’s like my not-boss-boss. If I got to pick adopted family, I guess I'd pick him. But he's not got any kids, that he talks about anyway, so I guess that rules him out of being an in-law...”

She takes another slurp. “Oh yeah. I’m Abby. I’m meant to be giving a seminar on Forensic Sciences in one of the colleges ‘round here... at least, I was. It might have been yesterday. Or the day before. I seem to have, ha, got a little lost...”

She glanced around, still smiling brightly. “I don’t suppose one of you would like to show off your famous English hospitality and get me to Canterbury? Or back to the airport? I’ve tried to ring my friends but can’t get through to any of them…” Not even the emergency English contact number Ducky gave her seemed to work. “And I’m kinda running out of money...” Her American Bank card didn’t seem to work now either. “...And my cell and mp3 ran outta battery, and...”

Abby pauses; smile fading quickly, energy and spirit all but gone “...The Director’s gonna kill me!” She groans, sinking back into her seat, pushing away her unfinished drink, rest her head in one hand. Coke just didn’t give her the perk she needed.

He looks at nothing in particular, his hands resting on his knees. Thoughtless alignment. He could say this out loud, but it doesn't matter, not in this place where no-one will understand: that Ibane-dono was a good man, a fierce man. One whose hand had been forced. There was no point in holding Ibane-dono's actions against him.

On their marriage day, Hisoka-dono had looked more delicate than ever. Regal and fragile like a heron. Anotsu's eyes kept wandering towards her, when he wasn't staring at his fists, or at his sake cup.

"My father-in-law," he enunciates slowly, when he's quite sure nobody is listening, "was Ibane Kensui, the last sensei of Kaga's Shingyoto-ryu. We held similar philosophies, but Ibane-dono was forced to betray me." He remembers running back up the hill, storming into the dojo, accosting Hisoka. "My father-in-law and my wife died by their own hands. This person had the honour of serving as Ibane-dono's second." He assumes Hisoka-dono tied her legs before she slit her throat, but he will never know.

Blinking, he pulls out a cigarette.

"Well, I can't say I have a mother-in-law, seeing as I'm not married, nor would have I had one if certain parents had got their way," Here she shifts a quick glance over to one of the tables next to where she'd sat, "seeing as his mother had died a long while before we'd have been married."

She pauses to ruminate on the topic for a bit longer before continuing. "Other in-laws I have, and plenty of them, and I'd think they more than make up for lacking the maternal figure. My sister-in-law, for example, is more than formidable and would be just as terrifying to someone," Again another look at that same table and a grin this time, "as Potter suggested when they ended up marrying my niece or nephew. She's..." There's a second as she tries to think how to explain just how scary Sarah could be some days, "Ah. She's very much like that Muggle Prime Minister from when I left. In personality if not in looks. Thatcher I think her name was."

"And my brother-in-law..." She shrugs, there's not much she can really say about him, "was not really one to be taken notice of while we were at school and I probably never would have done until he ran off with my sister. I've not seen either of them since so I can't really comment on my relationship with him."

"Now, if I had been married, then things would have been far more interesting. How does one put someone who's as good as your brother onto your family tree and then how do those extra relations of his factor into it too? Do they count as in-laws in that case or not?" She frowns and starts twitching her hands trying to describe how the whole inter-relationship of the pureblood families would connect up, "Especially now, considering he would have possibly married Persephone. Or not. And if we'd still come here, well, then things change again. Or, again, perhaps not. Hold on..." She lifts her head and holds one finger up while using the other hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Excuse me, I think I need to sit down and figure this out." She wanders back to her table muttering about pens, paper and bloody best friends...