♏ 007

[arachnoble]

Congratulations, Slytherin. I was almost worried you all would fail miserably with points and we'd be losing right now.

Let's just hope you can keep this up.

Speaking of losing, the teacher match is getting closer with each passing day. I'm sure you're all terribly excited to watch your teachers fail miserably, but who knows, maybe we'll actually do quite well. Perhaps a practice session would be beneficial?

I also want to take this moment to talk about something personal to me. I know I'm late with this announcement, but I can't have my fiancé receiving all of the attentions and congratulations. As most of you should know by know, I will be marrying Murdoc Donoghue on some unforeseen date in our future. We haven't made any solid plans, because between our excitement over finally being engaged and how busy it can be to be a teacher here, we haven't had the time. We'll have a date set soon, if any of you are truly nosy enough to want to know about our private lives.

Though talking about this on the journals makes it seem a lot less private, doesn't it?

Comments

[arachnoble]

Save the speculation for later.

Then how about black?

[wwistful]

I thought the intent of this conversation was to plan.

Isn't black a little dark for a wedding?

[arachnoble]

We can't plan anything with the children without them, though.

Times have changed, Murdoc. Black is becoming a more popular color.

[wwistful]

That's why I was speculating and making suggestions and not planning specific roles.

It's a funeral colour, not a wedding colour.

[arachnoble]

What if they refuse to take part? I don't think your children are that fond of me in the first place.

Beige isn't a wedding colour either.

[wwistful]

They'll do what they're told.

Moreso than black.

[arachnoble]

No matter how much the protest? Murdoc, it won't be near as enjoyable for them if they could decide for themselves what they want to do.

Black isn't hideous, though. What about grey or cream?

[wwistful]

Once again, Sybille, I was speculating.

I suppose it depends on what matches better. Perhaps we should compare colours?

[arachnoble]

[It's a long time before her reply comes, and her handwriting is noticeably shaky.]

We can do that. Compare them, I mean.

[and the next bit is filtered]

So why does sleeping with Strider gives him the right to attack me?

[wwistful]

[He notices this.]

I will find a way to do that.

[Filter]
[Inkblots,,,]
Excuse me?

[arachnoble]

Swatches would be a good place to start.

[Filter]

He told me you had sex, though not in those words.

And then he told me I was toying with your feelings, stepping on your heart, taking advantage of you. He told me I was petty, selfish, and heartless.

But then he said no, I just got it replaced when I lost my arm.

[wwistful]

I have no idea where I'll find swatches at a school.

[Filter]
What
In what word

I see.

Perhaps you should visit me in my quarters. This is rather difficult to convey over text.

[arachnoble]

I am sure you can find a way.

[filter]

I don't see what's so difficult about it.

[Though she will make her way towards his quarters, arriving not long after her last comment. She knocks on the door after a moment's hesitation, and tries to think of something to say.]

[wwistful]

I'm sure I will.

[filter]
I'd rather talk in person, that's all.

[He isn't sure if she'll come at all, so he fusses about his room worrying about the conversation that was obviously filtered away from him.

He's a mix of relieved and anxious as he hears the knock, but he doesn't hesitate to stride over and open it for her.]

Evenin'.

[arachnoble]

[She frowns at him, hesitating at the doorway. She doesn't know what to say, but she's not going to leave now. She's already here.

She looks rather shaken, and when she speaks she sounds stiff.]

Hello.

[wwistful]

[He stares at her for a long moment before he takes her wrist and gently tugs her into the room, shutting the door behind her and letting go of her hand.]

So. He attacked you? Verbally, I mean.

[arachnoble]

Essentially.

[She glances around the room, crossing her arms over her stomach as she stands there awkwardly. She doesn't know what to do, and she's not sure where to sit or if she should sit at all.]

Technically not verbal, because it was written, but it's not like he walked up to me and smacked me in the face.

[wwistful]

[Murdoc tuts softly, feeling like he's dealing more with children than his very adult love interests.

He shifts in an equally awkward manner, unsure of what he wants to do either. He glances around for a moment before flourishing an arm at the couch, striding past to a discreet looking cabinet and rifling through it.]

Take a seat.

[He calls over his shoulder before rising again with a bottle of scotch in his hand, swiling it around in the bottle with an inquisitive eyebrow.]

Scotch?

[arachnoble]

[She sits on the edge of the couch, crossing her legs at the knee. She smooths her skirt, tugging the hem over her knee and keeping herself from looking at anything but Murdoc at the cabinet.

Her nose wrinkles a bit in confusion, and she tugs at the hem of her skirt again.]

That would be great, yes.

[And now she's going to stare up at him.]

Were you ever going to tell me?

[wwistful]

[Murdoc quirks his eyebrows and smiles vaguely at her. Booze is as good a reason as any to smile, afterall.

He ducks into the cupboard and pulls out two glasses, setting them on the coffee table in front of them and pouring a good amount in both of them. He places the bottle down and sits, giving her a small frown.]

Of course I was, Sybille. I'm not afraid of tellin' you the truth, I just..wanted to know what it was before I did.

[arachnoble]

[She reaches for her drink, not taking her eye off of Murdoc.]

You mean if it was anything more then a one time escapade?

[Sybille rolls her eye, finally looking away.]

Or if you're in love with him?

[wwistful]

Somethin' like that, I suppose. It was meant to be a fling, I wasn't even goin' to engage him and he just sort of..grew on me. Like a fungus.

[A nod.] Mutually beneficial fungus.

[And that was the worst possible time to sip his drink because he's choking on it now. He's just going to rasp in response.] Don't you think it's a little soon for that?

[arachnoble]

Fungus isn't a very sexy word.

[Just sayin'. It isn't.

She sips her drink calmly as he chokes, staring at the weave of the couch fabric.]

It might be, but how would I know? I'm not you, and I'm not privy to your thoughts.

[wwistful]

Does it have to be sexy? It describes our relationship well enough.

[He presses the back of his hand to his lips so he can calm himself the fuck down before trying to make eye contact.]

If you have a problem with it, I want to hear it.

[arachnoble]

Well you are having sex with the man, so I'd imagine you'd prefer it to be described as such.

[Her gaze turns to him, and she almost wants to laugh at how he's reacting.]

I don't have a problem with who you sleep with. I'm not going to jealous and vindictive, but I'd rather know if you're intending to continue to see him after the wedding happens now instead of after the vows are said and done.