Dressing up was one of those things that Zaviar believed was done mostly for one’s own benefit. So that you could look in the mirror and approve of what you saw. Well, he rarely managed to find fault with his appearance because he never looked for it so it rarely mattered to him what he was wearing. But no one had needed to tell him that in order to go to a restaurant that was classed as fine dining one should dress up. Add on the fact that he was taking Madeleine and that it was birthday and well, he would have needed to be an idiot to not at least make the effort. So he had, right down to the tie that he was certain was going to attempt choking him at some point. Knight had given approval he did not need, he had pocket the small box containing Madeleine’s gift and set off to retrieve her. With Knight in the backseat because he had began acknowledging his existence enough to not leave him home alone. He would only whine at him when he came back and besides, Antonin might come home and the last thing that he needed was for the two of them to bond. Give him another reason to choose the necromancer’s side over his own. The muttered complaints about he had done no such thing were ignored the entire drive. “I brought you to leave you. Not to discuss matters of things that have already passed.” Currently there was nothing he wanted to discuss with his familiar. Perhaps later.
’At least Lila isn’t sulking for some reason or another,’ Knight declared as he jumped out of the car and trotted up to the door just ahead of Zaviar. Who was not actually anywhere near sulking. The water elemental had died on Madeleine’s birthday. Could his timing have been more perfect if he tried? No. Because of course he did not see any sort of issue with what he had done. It needed to happen, it had happened and it was over. Likely there would be a funeral because people always felt that unnecessary need for closure but it was not like Madeleine would be flying back to England for it. ’Someone’s not so sure of himself.’ He would be happy to skin that dog if he did not learn when it was and was not appropriate to think certain things. Brushing his hair back off his forehead, Zaviar rang the doorbell and hoped that it was Madeleine and not her mother who answered the door. A good way to start out the evening rocky would be to get ogled by the Ms. Gray he was not seeing.
Madeleine was in a remarkably good mood. Not even her cousin’s attempt at possibly trying to rile her over knowing things he had no right to had done nothing more than remind her that she really should not acknowledge his existence while her mother lived under her roof. It did not matter that the water elemental’s predicament and following death had meant she’d been woken up at what she deemed to be an ungodly hour. When she’d woken from her nap he was still quite dead. Why she had still been listed among his next of kin, she would never know, but now it hardly mattered. What mattered now was what she was supposed to be wearing. “A wardrobe full of clothes and not a bloody stitch to wear,” she muttered, digging through her shoes. At some point she was going to bother sorting out her clothing so she knew where everything was. ‘But I like that dress.’ “You’re only saying that because you know I’m comfortable in it.” Which ultimately meant it was not suitable for going to dinner, because none of Madeleine’s more ‘acceptable’ clothes were comfortable. ‘How do you eat if you’re uncomfortable?’ And for the countless time since they’d been introduced, Althea missed the point spectacularly. The elemental felt more comfortable with herself when she knew the looked good - which she was aware she invariably did anyway - and there was such thing as a dress code when it came to certain things. ‘Oh.’ She was ignoring the fact her familiar still blatantly did not understand and could not really be expected to. “Sod it, I’m wearing the black.” ‘... You have dozens of black dresses.’ No, Althea really didn’t understand.
‘You’re going to be la--’ “Am not,” Madeleine muttered around the pins in her mouth, twisting her hair up into a knot on her way down the stairs. ‘Or you’ll break your neck.’ Those shoes were dangerous enough already without adding the distraction of her hair. Or, indeed, my familiar. At that remark, Althea fell quiet. If only because the elemental actually had a point. Scrutinising her reflection in the hall mirror, Madeleine managed to turn a full circle in her effort to find something obviously wrong with her attire. ‘You look fine.’ Except ‘fine’ did not reach her standards and she hardly trusted the opinion of a boa constrictor when it came to human clothing. ‘They’re here anyway.’ She had to all but swallow her tongue before she declared to the rest of the house that she was answering the door. It would have been like telling her mother to come and stare. Needless to say, that was something she could do without. Casting a quick glamour to cover the bruising Darcie had so charitably bestowed on her face, Madeleine rushed to grab her clutch and answered the door. Stepping well out of the way for Knight to get past - she would end him if he got dog hairs on her - she directed an undeniably pleased smile at Zaviar. He looked good. “Do you mind if we leave approximately now? Because Mama will not let you leave if she catches you dressed like that.”
When the door opened Knight decided that he was going to behave and not jump on Madeleine. Even though he really wanted to because it was her birthday and that meant she deserved to be licked. But she was also wearing a dress and had deliberately moved out of the way so he figured that jumping up on her would only end with bad things. ’Like the dress,’ he tossed out as he went to find Althea. Maybe he could find a way to play with Martie while he was there, the monkey sort of seemed like a really big chew toy. How Althea managed to have what he imagined had to look like breakfast wandering around without taking a snap he had no idea.
So that meant that he looked good. Leaning in before he responded he gave the birthday girl a quick kiss. Zaviar returned Madeleine’s smile, if his was a trifle less pleased. “Your mother is a bit of a worry,” he admitted as he turned to head back for the car. Which he had left running simply because he had a feeling that Madeleine would want to leave. That and he was no more fond of the idea of being stared at by Lila Gray again just yet. “Though my opinion is that your outfit is the one that will be getting all the attention.” He knew that he approved. Though he very nearly had a habit of always approving of what Madeleine wore right up until the point where he realized that every other man in the room with eyes liked it as well. Then he continued to enjoy it and made note that if any of them came near her they likely needed to learn what a broken nose was... thinking of that- “How’s your face?” Glancing over at her he was not all that surprised to see nothing. He knew it must have bruised because Darcie was not the sort to hold back and she was very nearly as strong as him, but he also knew that Madeleine had no problem putting a glamour on in order to keep any blemishes from showing. He did not blame her for that, he just wanted to know how bad it was. Because words still needed to be had with the less-than-sane snake. A brief thought of a strange acting woman. Less than sane seems to be rather common among us. “And we’re going to Bella Ciao, if you’re interested. I think you’ll like it.”
Madeleine’s eyebrows arched slightly. “Thank you...” While the sentiment was appreciated, she still did not trust the judgement of a familiar over her own. The idea that the thought might not have been Knight’s entirely did not cross her mind. She was too busy feeling grateful that he had not chosen to jump on her. “Althea’s hanging from the banister rail and I think the ball is still under my bed.” ‘I’ll get it.’ The snake did not like the smell/taste of dog saliva, but balls rolled so... she would roll it. And hope that he didn’t just put it back underneath another piece of furniture.
“Ah, yes.” It was hardly something she could deny, even if her mother had been easier to tolerate in the absence of men, recovering from jet lag and in the knowledge her daughter was pregnant. There was the slightest chance Madeleine had been avoiding her, for no other reason than Lila could see through her fae glamours and she didn’t really feel like explaining. The most childish part of her didn’t see why she had to. It was her face. She smirked at the comment about her dress. “I still won’t be held responsible for any women spontaneously combusting.” Or men, for that matter. Their eyes were their own and they knew what they were staring at, so they could bloody well deal with any retaliation. She was fairly certain that the worldly wisdom of ‘stop, drop and roll’ had indeed spread to Scarlet Oak. It was not her fault if they couldn’t do so fast enough. Though it would definitely be her fault if the flames simply would not go out. “Bruised,” she answered simply. “And a little sore.” Which was hardly surprising, but she still dropped the glamour long enough to provide proof. It was staying where it was for the rest of the evening, though. She’d rather people did not assume Zaviar had done it. “I trust your judgement.” Because Madeleine had never known him to choose something sub par.
While Knight enjoyed his evening playing with the ball and bantering with Althea, Zaviar was not going to think about him. Or really about Madeleine’s mother despite the brief mention of her. Lila Gray unnerved him, actually made him a little uncomfortable, and that was extremely rare. Other than her Zaviar was not sure that he could think of anyone who had managed to make him feel like he needed to shift or leave the room since childhood. Granted the reason was very different now than it had been, but still. “I doubt you’ll have to be concerned with that.” Yes, he looked good, but so far as his mind was concerned Madeleine was the one who people should be looking at between the two of them. If someone did stare at him and Madeleine noticed then, well, there would be a little fire display and he could not really say anything since he was not much better himself. Could probably be classed as worse since the last man involved with Madeleine was now being prepared for his funeral. His fingers itched to reach out and touch that bruise, not to press but to... no there was no real good reason for it past it showing his concern. Which should already be known since he had asked how she was. “I’m glad that nothings broken.” A real risk when you were dealing with an unstable were like Darcie who in addition to the instability did not even like Madeleine. “How was the rest of your birthday?”
In answer to that remark, Madeleine just pointedly looked over Zaviar. He had obviously looked in the mirror, since she wasn’t certain one could look like that without the aid of a reflective surface. Though for a brief moment she almost felt bad for any fae-blooded individual who chose to stare at her face and still found the wrong end of his temper. Almost felt bad. Staring was rude. “It’s nothing a few painkillers--” That she could take. “--and a glamour can’t fix.” Even if there was no doubt her mother had noticed. Nothing further had been injured except perhaps her pride and any lingering respect she’d had for Black. Which was very little. “Relatively peaceful. Mother wished me happy birthday, Miller wished me happy birthday and then proceeded to badger me about things he has no right picking my mother’s brain for, and then I spent the rest of the day playing in the fire while Althea tried to work out the point in saying ‘happy birthday’ to... well, me.” She supposed the snake had a point. Really, Madeleine was not known for her cheery good nature. That her current good mood was a direct result of murder and had been added to by so much time communing with her element rather spoke volumes. “Did my cousin tell you he came round to be greeted by the wrong Gray?” Both the expression on Madeleine’s face and her tone gave away just how entertaining she found that. She would have paid good money to see it.
Knowing that he was getting some sort of a look did not really affect him. His opinion on the matter stood the same as it had a moment ago. “Good.” Darcie still needed to be reminded that she was not to go around hitting certain people. If she really felt the need to get her frustration out that way there was always Rodger, or some random vanilla human, that could take the place of someone who mattered. Because if someone mattered to him then clearly they mattered to anyone who knew him as well, at least enough to be respected and not harmed. Of course Antonin would bother her. The necromancer was well and truly incapable of keeping himself out of this or that sort of mischief. It was part of what made him interesting, but on the flip-side it also rendered him typically annoying. “What did Althea decide?” And he was actually interested in the response because Althea’s thought-process was intriguing. Occasionally very similar to his own. “But no, I hadn’t heard about that. Antonin and I haven’t really spoken.” Not since he had very nearly strangled him and had his leg mauled for his efforts. “Though from what I’ve heard I confess surprise at seeing no scorch-marks from that meeting.” Lila did not seem like the sort to hold back and from all he had been told she held no fondness whatsoever for her and Madeleine’s cousin. The reason behind that was unknown to him, mostly because he doubted that it actually mattered.
Nose wrinkling slightly, Madeleine tried to recall her familiar’s reasoning on the matter. “After repeatedly pointing out that I am not the most cheerful person on a good day, she reached the conclusion that nobody should just expect people to enjoy a day simply because it is the anniversary of their birth.” A brief pause for thought as the car stopped. It was far better she finish this explanation here than where just anybody could hear it. Mostly because it was Althea’s logic and it often made no sense to anyone but those acquainted with her. “And that the fact it is merely a sentiment is redundant because I am not all that sentimental either.” Luckily the elemental had had both hands in the hearth at the time, gladly singeing her robe, or she may have found what was originally a much longer trail of thought incredibly irritating. “They were outside. She nearly set fire to the porch.” Which Althea had picked up on the moment she got near it. Swinging her legs out of the car - she had never been one to wait for someone to open the door - Madeleine shrugged. “She wants him dead, but he’s relatively safe from her if there’s a chance someone is watching.” No, she did not care if anyone else had heard that. One hand automatically raised to her face as she shut the car door, half-paranoid that the glamour was not holding. Even though she knew it was. She could feel it. It was a little odd, though, in that it was one of the few times she had not bothered making her outward demeanor seem any softer. Just less physically damaged. Madeleine still looked herself, self-satisfied smile and all. “As the hostile British recluse, I’m afraid you’ll have the lead the way.” Well, it was true.
Althea did have a point that Zaviar agreed with. Madeleine was pretty much the last person that one would expect to be, or accuse of being, cheerful. Then when it came to her birthday that also qualified because one was not required to enjoy a day for no actual reason other than ‘because it’s my birthday’. Zaviar certainly did not regard his own birthday as anything special. “You can enjoy it because you received good news this morning.” And also because he was taking her out to dinner, which was not the most common thing. Far too many annoying scents and tastes lingering in the air for him to actually enjoy being in a restaurant and unlike her his income was a slight more limited. Turning the engine off he slid the keys into his pocket and got out of the car, walking over to join Madeleine on their way into the restaurant. “Then he’ll live a little longer.” And was Madeleine reclusive? He had not really noticed, potentially because he had a habit of not actually asking what people got up to when he was not there unless they offered the information. Or something made it seem like he needed to know. “Abdella,” he informed the host after they walked in. A few minutes early, but better than being late only to have their table taken. After a glance at the reservations he nodded, said some things that Zaviar forgot to listen to, and motioned for them to follow. For that he did pay attention, pulling his eyes away from Madeleine for long enough to get to their table. Just as he had requested there were candles instead of flowers on the table. “I cannot see why you’d want to be a recluse at the moment when your mother is sharing the house,” he admitted. At the question for beverages he was going to respond with a bottle of wine until he remembered. “What would you like, Madeleine?” He did not voice that no, they did not want the wine, even though she was not allowed to have it. Did that mean that he was supposed to refrain as well? It was true that he was no fan of drinking, but every now and again he indulged.
“It did rather set the tone for the day,” Madeleine agreed. Once she had taken a nap and stopped considering calling her brother to set that doctor alight for waking her up. Hardly the sort of thing Jackson would actually do for her, least of all if she pulled the birthday card. But no, otherwise the day had been quite pleasant. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been out to dinner, much less had someone else take her out. Automatically slipping her hand into Zaviar’s elbow, she chose not to comment on Antonin’s lifespan. She was of the opinion that no one ought to underestimate her mother’s ability to simply will people dead. One of these days, the necromancer simply would not wake up, and her mother’s named would somehow be scorched across his forehead. Past confirmation of the reservations, Madeleine paid no attention to the host whatsoever. Not necessarily because she did not believe what was being said was important, but because she was a snob, frankly. And she knew it. She just did not see why the staff should have more of her attention than was required to place orders. Brightening a little at the sight of candles, she shamelessly ran her fingers through the flames, shrugging as she took a seat. “She has yet to be completely infuriating in private and makes for adequate company.” Meaning she wasn’t vanilla and therefore not utterly wretched, but she was behaving, and Madeleine took that to mean that she ought to refrain from telling a restaurant full of people that she believed they were likely beneath her. “Though I’ve no idea how long the first part will last.” Fingers crossed. “Water, please.” Again, it was aimed at Zaviar rather than the staff, though her eyebrow raised in mild amusement. What else was she going to drink? “You have what you like, though.” Zaviar wasn’t the pregnant one, there was no reason he shouldn’t drink. She could drive if it came to that.
When it came to Antonin and how long he was or was not going to live, Zaviar had a hard time recalling that the man had a shortened expectency anyhow. Much less that it was even shorter with Lila in town. He had not had the relationship between the two of them fully explained so all he knew was that Lila did not like Antonin. But a lot of people did not really like Antonin for this or that reason so adding one more to that list was not a shocking thing. Especially not a family member since he had seen Antonin and Madeleine interact, and apparently they were on what qualified as 'good' terms for them. Or had been. "Most of the time it is mothers you hear speaking of their children like that," he remarked, slightly amused. Although he understood it because he had met Lila once; and personally believed that that was more than enough for anyone. Any questions that may have thought of being entertained in his mind about why Madeleine was like she was could be explained by her mother. Likely including the superior attitude, which never bothered him, that left her speaking more to him than the waiter. "Water for her and a glass of red wine for me." Now to see to the menu. "School begins in about a week; did I tell you about the principal of the school? I suspect she is angelic." Which spoke levels so far as he was concerned. The angelic might as well be labeled as 'the annoying' from his point of view. Do-gooders and martyrs for causes that were not worth the time of day. Very nearly more irritating than vanillas because they annoyed him practically on sight. He was half-tempted to see if he could find a spell specially designed to get under the skin of angelics.
Crossing her legs, Madeleine gave a faint smirk, fingers already toying with her necklace again. “It does make one wonder which of us is more mature.” Though if she were honest, there was a chance she and her mother were level-pegging in terms of maturity. Just in different areas. And being one of three rather than an only child had left her less spoiled. Her mother did what she wanted when she wanted. Madeleine liked to think she had a little more restraint. “Though I’ve no doubt she still says similar about me.” Really, she was still getting over the fact Lila had seen fit to just turn up at her house and expect to be catered for. And broken into her home with a monkey. No, she did not care that the monkey was a familiar. Her nose wrinkled at the idea of school beginning again, a knee-jerk reaction from years of education despite years of being free of it. “Angelic?” She stifled a rather unladylike snort. “Oh lord. No doubt she just wants whats best for the children,” she sneered. Madeleine had little to no problem with those of an angelic bloodline. Mostly because she did not have the natural revulsion she had with those of her opposing element. The problem arose when they opened their mouths and tended to be the type of people she’d rather have their jaws wired shut. Idealists of the worst possible kind. The kind that disagreed with everything she stood for. “I’ve no doubt they have minds of their own.” Whether or not that was a good thing was-- Oh, vile, teaching vanillas. At that little realisation, Madeleine’s face blanked. It had taken her years to get over being taught along side them, never mind Zaviar being subject to them further. “Try not to catch anything.” Said with an almost sweet smile. She realised that kind of inferiority was not contagious, but nevertheless.
Likely. Zaviar had spent enough time with Madeleine in a wide enough variety of situations to know that ‘mature’ was not always a word that one would apply to her. “I maintain your opinion to be more valid.” Mostly because Lila’s opinion was something that he was unsure he ever wanted to hear unless Madeleine was in the room. Or someone else in addition to her was. Because Zaviar? Did not want to be left alone with Madeleine’s mother. Possibly ever. “Yes, she does, but she also offered me an additional position as the facility advisor to the school’s newly fledged group for supernatural students.” The flickers of what may have been a smile tugged at his mouth for a moment. Her mistake, his advantage, students did so love to look up to their teachers and advisors and young minds were so easy to mold. “I don’t intend on actually touching any of them.” If he could manage then he would prefer to speak and teach only the students he believed to be worth his time. Grades may very well reflect that view. Though those were really thoughts for another time, once he was actually at the school and not at a restaurant with Madeleine for her birthday. Speaking of. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the unwrapped gift and set it on the table. Small, possibly something that would have most women staring at him as though he had grown a second head. But really now, he could think of nothing better and the fact that he had even bought Madeleine a gift for her birthday spoke volumes. “This is better to think on than angelic principals.”
“You may change your mind when I’m the size of a whale, hormonal and rather more unreasonable than usual,” she replied archly. Under those particular circumstances, Madeleine was not sure she could blame Zaviar if he chose to side with her mother at some point. Though she truly hoped it would never come to that. She knew her mother. She did not want to know how bad her own behaviour would have to become for Zaviar to need to resort to arguing Lila’s case. “Fingers crossed it doesn’t happen.” All of them. And possibly her toes, though she couldn’t quite manage it in those shoes. “Really?” The elemental had to confess herself surprised. Not that someone had offered such a position to Zaviar - he was more than qualified for it - but that an allegedly angelic principal had offered it to a demonic teacher. Was there not supposed to be some kind of inherent rivalry there? Or had the woman managed to overcome it long enough to decide she needed to look past that obvious difference and ‘be the better person’ for it? An idea which actually made Madeleine twitch inwardly. View points like that made her wish more than just the vanillas could be culled. “Interesting that she seems to see no problem in creating what might be interpreted as a divide by some.” Though her tone easily gave away how amusing she found it. And she saw absolutely no problem in segregating the schools entirely. Supernatural children had additional educational needs that nobody but another supernatural could cater for. “Some pathogens are airborne,” she stated, sticking her tongue out. Well, it was true. Though she had already established that inferiority was not contagious, so she pushed it to one side. She was infinitely more interested in what Zaviar produced. Because if that was what she thought it was, it was brilliant. Eyes lighting up as she claimed the gift from the table, she chewed on her lip, turning it over in her hands. It was a cigarette lighter in the shape of a coiled snake. And when you worked it like... that, it spat a small jet of flame. With a delighted laugh, Madeleine immediately blew out the nearest candle, purely so she could light it again. “You really didn’t have to, Zaviar.” Which she was aware he knew, but nevertheless. “Thank you.” Because if anything or anybody caught fire while she was armed with this, nobody could accuse her of abusing her abilities. The snake was entirely to blame. Clearly.
Zaviar very nearly rolled his eyes at Madeleine’s first statement. “You will not be the size of a whale.” He had seen pregnant women before and yes, they tended to be larger because there was something growing inside of them, but he had never seen one the size of the whale. He had seen women that big but they were just fat. Madeleine was nowhere near fat to start with and unless she started eating now and did not stop for nine months... perhaps he was being a little too logical about this. “Yes, really.” There was no reason he could think up that he would lie about something like this. Even if it was a little ridiculous to believe. “I think that she wants to give me a chance to prove that I’m worthwhile. As though the original position was not capable of doing that.” Although it was true that Zaviar had been hired by the board, not by Amelia herself. She had been for something, cancer-related he thought, and only just returned. Truth be told he would have preferred if she had just stayed gone now that he had realized what she was. “Mediocrity is not contagious the last time I checked.” If he managed to catch it then he would take it back, but he highly doubted it could happen. Even if he had not been bitten then he still had been born demonic, that was not something that could just be taken away. Far more entertaining than that line of thought was watching Madeleine as she picked up his gift and amazed over it. He had known she would like it. Yes, exactly that much, even going so far as to use it to light a candle even though she was capable of creating the flames all on her own. “Yes, but it is your birthday and I thought that you would like it.” Accepting the glass of wine the waiter brought he took a sip, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Do you know what you want to eat?” If she had ordered her drink through him then he imagined she would do the same for her food.
Amused, Madeleine actually laughed. “Perhaps not, but the rest stands.” Really, she knew herself well enough to know that she was too active to become mammoth in size. She didn’t stop moving long enough and she definitely didn’t eat enough. So unless she managed to have twins - Oh, we are not having that thought. No. Certainly not. Bad enough that her mother had chosen to wind her up about multiple children and her familiar had over twenty ‘snakelings’ per pregnancy. Though she scoffed at the idea that Zaviar needed to prove himself to anyone in any capacity whatsoever. “That’s rich.” And more than a little naive if it were true. Why give someone you weren’t a hundred percent sure about even further influence over students to prove anything? Somehow, Madeleine did not think an angelic principal would agree with Zaviar’s values (unless they somehow meant ‘inferior’ in a nice way), which meant someone was going to regret something along the line. It would not be Zaviar, so she didn’t know why she was giving it a second thought. Taking her water without so much as looking at the waiter, she smiled. “You knew I would.” And she couldn’t deny that she did. More obvious connections aside, there was something both familiar and comforting about cigarette lighters. And matches. They were the foundation of all of her abilities. “Um, carbonara, please.” No, her craving for that particular meal had nothing to do with the fact she was pregnant. It didn’t.
Zaviar was very much unaware of the thoughts that Madeleine was having regarding multiple children. That it was a possibility did not actually touch on his mind. Madeleine was pregnant, he had accepted that, and that was as far as he had gone for the current moment in time. Was also as far as he was willing to go right then. Currently he was just slightly pleased with himself for having gotten Madeleine to laugh. It was a nice sound. And for being right about what to get her for her birthday. Madeleine may have been rich, upper-class, all of that but she was more pleased with that lighter than most women would have been with a diamond necklace. Which was good because he could not afford a diamond necklace that she could not have purchased herself. “I did.” It was still nice to be proven right. Knight could stop carrying on about how he was certain that it was not appropriate, etc. etc. etc. He was wrong. Zaviar was right. Yet another point to him instead of to the dog. Who I am not competing with. “Carbonara and the tortellini with meat sauce.” Folding his menu he reached over to retrieve Madeleine’s as well, handing them to the waiter. “Have you taken on any new students recently?” Idle chit-chat was not Zaviar’s strong suit by any means but he was capable.
Smoothing down the front of her dress with one hand, Madeleine played with the lighter almost compulsively. There were candles, yes, but the little flame was comforting. In the same way matches had been when she was a child. The matches one would have been hard pressed to find her without unless she had managed to burn her way through them all. Although she did entertain herself for a moment by significantly increasing the size of the flame before letting it flicker out because people were going to start staring. Not that she was particularly bothered if they did, unless they followed Calvert’s principles. If she stopped to think about it - which she had, actually - Zaviar seemed to be remarkably good at buying... the right things. Other people were noted for saying the right things, which was arguably impossible with someone like Madeleine simply because of her nature. But the lighter, the necklace and the music book? She had to wonder if Zaviar realised just how many men would likely envy him his ability to hit the right note. And was that really small-talk? “Lord, no. Somehow I doubt that will be changing with my mother around. Add to that the disappearance of the only student I had, and...” She shrugged. “It rather leaves me bone-idle until I go into labour.” She didn’t wear idle very well. Not completely idle. “Unless there’s some kind of orchestra near by.” Though she wasn’t sure just how much she meant that.
She was going to need to buy lighter fluid for that thing if she kept on playing with it like that. Or Zaviar would. Buy it and leave it sitting on the table. No one else who came by the house would take it after all. And if they did then he would just have to take it back. “Ah, yes.” Had he been the sort to practice music, which he never had been, then he would have made sure to avoid a house that also had Lila in it. Granted he currently rather did want to avoid all houses that had Lila in them... but that was beside the point. The point was that had he been anyone else he might have choked on his wine at Madeleine’s statement. “I find it amazingly hard to believe that you could ever be bone-idle.” The labor comment was going unaddressed. Simply because his mind was not finding it all that easy to imagine Madeleine in labor. “I’m sure that if you grew too bored we could find you something large to burn.” Calvert’s house. The angels who have come to town. “And there’s always baby-sitting your mother.” Even said with a hint of a smile. Though he was sure that Lila was in need of it if any adult had ever been.
Madeleine owned lighter fluid by the bucket-load. It was handy for keeping fires going when she was feeling especially lazy, or if the logs were still a little too damp to burn adequately. If her house burned down it would doubtlessly be labelled arson because of the amount of accelerants she possessed. Somehow she doubted that insisting the origin of the fire would more than likely be a mother-daughter argument would really hold much weight with authorities. “I doubt I’d ever have the patience for more than one student at a time at any rate.” She didn’t actually envy Zaviar his apparent patience because there was nothing that could make her face a class of children, but she would admit that maybe she needed to be a touch more tolerant. Maybe. “It would have to be forced on me and then I would drive myself and everyone else utterly insane,” she answered through a faintly amused smile. It was true. Madeleine just didn’t do bone-idle. She needed something to do. The idea of finally sorting the rest of the house out had crossed her mind, but that counted as manual labour and she knew that someone would complain about that somewhere down the line. And then she’d have to refrain from trying to injure them. “Or I could become one of those frighteningly nauseating women who starts embroidering things for every semi-important event that passes.” Oh god, kill me now. The mention of her mother did make her pause though. “Babysitting Mama should come with some kind of official qualification and an immunity against nightmare children.” And she dared anyone to say otherwise and mean it.
...true. Zaviar tried to imagine Madeleine having more than one child she needed to teach and immediately started attempting to figure out how long it would take before one of them ‘spontaneously’ combusted. He imagined that research into random crimes had to be changed these days, now that elementals and witches and vampires were public knowledge. The old trick of breaking in and using a gun or knife was probably not going to hold up as well in this world as it had before. Interesting possibilities for the world of robbery. Ulysses will make use of them, I imagine. He was the closest thing to a thief who Zaviar knew - but he was also not actually going to think about him. Because he was at dinner with Madeleine and she would not appreciate him bringing the telekinetic up. “Perhaps you can get a lot of practice with your cello in. Have you played any pieces from the book I gave you?” Likely she had played some of them before that, but there was no harm in asking that he could see. He wanted to know that it had been well-received and not simply set on a shelf. Which was possible with Madeleine, and also because she had liked it when she was drunk did not necessarily mean it carried over into sobriety. “If you pick up embroidery out of any actual desire for the activity then I’d touch a book on white magic.” So basically never. Even the thought of white magic was enough to make him feel slightly nauseous. “I’m sure your siblings would be happy to give you one.” Had he had a mother like Lila, or siblings, then he would have expected the same. Or a promise that one of them would take her off his hands before she wound up buried in the backyard. “Did she say why she’s come to visit?” If he remembered right then Madeleine’s siblings were back in England. Likely easier to go wherever they were then to come all the way across the ocean.