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andrcmedastcnks·:

Andromeda’s eyes were drifting over to Ted all throughout the evening. It seemed like every time she looked at him he was mingling with someone new. It wasn’t bad, it was nice to see her husband among friends, but Andromeda hadn’t done much mingling at the wedding. She spoke to a couple of people, but most people seemed to keep their distance from her. 

No one wanted to be associated with the Black blood traitor.

Andromeda hadn’t truly expected Vincent to show up. She mentioned the idea to him with hope that he’d arrive and keep her company, but about an hour into the wedding she lost hope. She wouldn’t blame him for not showing up. This wasn’t either of their crowds. They were used to the pureblood society, not a wedding full of muggleborns and those deemed blood traitors.

Her eyes flicked towards him as he approached her. The brief look of shock was soon replaced by a cool indifference at his question. She waved the bottle of wine she kept close to her before answering, “I’m enjoying the amenities. I don’t know about the people.” 

Andromeda had a quick reaction time, he mused. If he had blinked, he would have missed the look of surprise that flashed for the briefest of moments on her face. It was a subtle skill, one that all pureblooded children were taught, though he could think of a few people who had never mastered their lessons.  

             “I know about the people.” Vincent murmured, the disdain ringing clear in his voice. It would be quite clear to anyone listening that he didn’t enjoy the people at all. --- Although, that wasn’t entirely true. Anastasiya, and strangely enough, Emmeline Vance were much less bothersome than the others here. That didn’t say much for the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Macmillian and the company that they kept. “The amenities, though---” He smiled slightly. “I agree with you there. Speaking of...” He glanced around, in search of something more to drink. He knew he needed another because of the tightness that still wrapped around his chest. He would continue to drink until he could enjoy himself. 

                                                    “...would you happen to know where I could get another drink?”

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andrcmedastcnks·:

A part of Andromeda felt jealous when Vincent said he wouldn’t be going. She knew it was rude of her to even consider staying home and missing the Macmillian’s big day, but this just wasn’t her scene. She might have married a muggleborn and birthed a halfblood, but that didn’t mean she felt comfortable around the lot of them. She was raised alongside the sacred 28 families. They’re her peers— or they used to be. She didn’t know who were her peers now.

‘She mimicked his movement as she crossed her arms as well. Her eyes narrowed slightly at him before speaking up. “So I have to go and you get to miss it?” She knew she was only invited because of Ted, and Vincent probably wasn’t even wanted at the wedding, but she couldn’t help herself. Emma was too busy with quidditch to go, and Andromeda needed at least one person to talk to.

“I assume you’ve been locked away in your home for a while now.” At least, that’s what she did after she left her family. His circumstances weren’t the same as hers, but it was similar enough for her to understand. “Why don’t you attend the wedding as my plus one?” Could she bring a plus one when she was a plus one? She didn’t know. Was she going to do it anyways? Of course. Andromeda doubted Eliza and Ezra would care about one more guest at the wedding.

“I don’t have a husband who is “friends with the host.” Vincent countered immediately, throwing her previous words back in her face. He smiled. Though her line of reasoning was faulty, in jest or not, he could understand the sentiment behind her words. Going to these events must be bad enough, without making it worse by feeling completely alone. Though they weren’t the closest pair in the world, Vincent and Andromeda likely understood each other in a way few others could even hope to. He’d appreciate the company if he were in her position. And quite frankly, from his position, so could he.

                  “A satisfactory assumption.” He said, drumming his fingers along his forearm. It was more accurate to say that he’d been locked away at work, but he didn’t feel like discussing his meager job at Sugarplums. Home was close enough, he supposed.  

The idea of attending the wedding as a guest of Andromeda’s was an intriguing one. Was she even allowed to bring people, considering she was already attending with her husband? If she weren’t, he imagined that would be her problem to deal with. He pursed his lips, absentmindedly biting down on the inside of his cheek. Had Andromeda also considered the similarities between them? He would dare to say that she had. Why else would she be inviting him to a wedding after only a few minutes of conversation? Rather than question such things, Vincent cleared his throat. 

          --- “As your plus one? ...Well, I suppose that’s not a terrible idea.” He didn’t want to come off as eager. Mostly because he wasn’t. Apprehensive with a dash of curiosity, yes. But eager? He wasn’t often eager about anything except what he did in is free time. “Thank you for the invitation. I accept. --- I assume there will be an open bar?” He reasoned that there likely would, unless the Macmillians wanted to shame themselves before everyone. Still, it never hurt to check. 

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emmelinevalerianvance·:

Emmeline turned at the sound of her name, the voice familiar but out of place to her. “Vincent?” She said, though it sounded more like a question. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Not an unkind greeting, and certainly true as the last person Emmeline had expected to run into at the MacMillan wedding was Vincent Avery. It seemed run-ins between them were becoming something of a habit, and Emmeline would by lying if she said that bothered her. The truth was, she was curious about Vincent in a way that she wasn’t about the other Averys. His fall from their father’s graces- no, Valentine Avery was no father to either of them.

“It’s a beautiful day for it.” She responded, taking a sip of her own drink and wondering who had invited Vincent along. Surely he wasn’t friends with Ezra and Eliza? Glancing around the lawn and gardens, the vast majority of guests were members of the Order or their known supporters. The last she’d heard, the Avery’s fell on the very opposite side of the line drawn in this war, and Emmeline wondered how Vincent had found himself amongst a group of what very well could have been his enemies. Though, she supposed his estrangement might serve as motivation to rethink any previous allegiance.

The surprise on Emmeline’s face was amusing. He couldn’t blame her, not really. Vincent Avery, the withdrawn, out-casted pariah, and newfound bane of his ex-father’s existence attending a wedding filled to the brim with mudbloods, halfbloods, and blood-traitors. He probably made a silly sight, clutching his drink so tightly with discomfort written plainly on his face. He knew this, and yet he had made no move to leave. Like so many things in the last handful of months, it didn’t make sense. And like so many times in the last handful of months, he was woefully ill equipped to explain such an anomaly, even to himself. Driven by some force he couldn’t understand, he stayed, determined to get through this wedding even if he had to get absolutely knackered to do so. 

It was quite strange to think that Emmeline was one of the safer people to speak to, considering that he hardly knew her at all. He plastered something smile-esque on his face. “I didn’t expect to see me here either, and yet, here I am. Andromeda Tonks invited me to come, but I haven’t been able to find her.” He took another too-large gulp of his drink, enjoying the pleasant burn as it moved down his throat. 

Vincent’s eyes flickered towards the sky. It was a nice day outside, though he had hardly noticed. He wasn’t easily charmed, and certainly not by something as mundane as a blue sky. However, he could see the appeal when it came to wedding planning. It was something other people cared about, after all. “It is.” He said in simple agreement. Another gulp of his drink went down. He’d probably have to go searching for his fifth in a bit. At this rate, he might actually end up enjoying himself by the end of the night. “Have you had a chance to congratulate the bride and groom?” He asked, digging into his repertoire of wedding small-talk. He had a question in mind, a few in fact, but he wasn’t sure now was the exact right time to bring it up.

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emmelinevalerianvance·:

Emmeline was never one for silence. She lived life loudly, passionately, and often impulsively. Only time had seemed to tame her, teaching her to look, listen, and pay attention if just a little bit more. It was a lesson she’d learned the hard way, repeatedly, in her time as a hit-witch. How many times had her superiors admonished her for acting too quickly, eager to fill a lull with action, when she should have waited? Too many times to count. Vincent Avery, it seemed, had no such problems. While he fidgeted some with his glass, Emmeline bounced her knee wildly under the table needing an outlet for her anxious energy. She was so used to action, that Vincent’s inaction left her uncertain.

“No need.” Emmeline waved away his words easily, even though he hadn’t really thanked her properly, but that was no matter. There really was no need to thank her for an apology that he was rightfully owed. Emmeline turned back to her food, finding the utensils in her hands gave her something to focus on rather than his silence and kept her from blurting out anything she shouldn’t. After all, she couldn’t talk with food in her mouth. Or at least, she shouldn’t anyway.

She wanted so badly to know more about his situation, how Vincent Avery had betrayed him just as he had her and her mother. Not only that, but Emmeline found she was curious about his childhood, his family that could have been hers under different circumstances, and whether or not she should be grateful it never was. 

It felt like silence was the third person at their table, but that was quite alright with him. Vincent had always liked the quiet. He felt comfortable with it, safe in the confines of his own mind. While Emmeline busied herself with her food, he took a sip of his new drink for the first time. He wouldn’t lie, a second drink was much appreciated. As he swirled the liquid within the glass, he pondered over her words. I think you’d be surprised how much we have in common. What did that mean? He set his drink down and reached for his sandwich. He didn’t feel quite so hungry more after her interruption, but he’d paid seven sickles for this meal and he would be damned if he didn’t finish it. He took a bite, chewing slowly. He didn’t know much about Emmeline Vance, truth be told, not anything substantial, anyway. If they did have things in common, he certainly wouldn’t know of it.  

Vincent finished chewing and then swallowed his food. His eyes flickered back to Emmeline. He really ought to leave, as their conversation seemed to have finished. And yet, he found that he didn’t quite want to. Maybe it was because she had piqued his curiosity, or maybe he was lonely after so many weeks of solitude. Maybe it was just something about Emmeline herself, though he didn’t quite like that line of thought. Anyhow, he decided that he should probably say something else, just in case she wasn’t as comfortable with silence as he was. 

“I hope you forgive my aggression.” He murmured, making eye contact with her as he reached again for his drink. “Both here, and at the store the other afternoon.” He brought it to his lips, still looking at her as he took another sip. “It hasn’t been the easiest few months, truth to be told.” His lips twitched into a smirk -- hasn’t been the easiest was an understatement -- that quickly fell away. “While I wouldn’t say I’m much friendlier on a regular basis, I’m certainly not so vocal about it.”

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[sadavery-blog]

WHO: Vincent Avery and Andromeda Tonks WHEN: Thursday, June 14th, 1979. 1:42PM.  WHERE: The Macmillian Wedding

Vincent was feeling more than just curious after his conversation with Emmeline Vance, but unfortunately, there was little that he could do about that currently. Weddings were not the best place to garner information, he gathered. But he was a patient man, he always had been, and he could wait for another day. 

For now, though, he was still trying to find Andromeda. 

He’d been here for nearly two hours, and he had still yet to see her. Had she lied to him about attending the wedding, just so he might come and make a fool out of himself? He certainly hoped not, but he wasn’t one to discount that possibility. His search soon came to an end, though, when he spotted her just across the garden. 

“There you are.” He murmured to himself as he set off in her direction. It only took him half a minute to reach her. 

“Andromeda---” He said, uncomfortably pulling at his suit jacket. “Sorry it took me so long to find you. Are you, er, enjoying the wedding?” 

@andrcmedastcnks

[sadavery-blog]

WHO: Vincent Avery and Emmeline Vance WHEN: Thursday, June 14th, 1979. 1:11PM.  WHERE: The Macmillian Wedding

Drink number four was gripped tightly in Vincent Avery’s hands as he finally managed to escape from Alexandra Walters. The buzz of alcohol was beginning to make itself known to him, but even so, it did little to alleviate the anxiety he felt. 

Crowds had never been his cup of tea, but this one was especially awful, considering the company he found himself surrounded by. He wondered if Anastasiya was still around somewhere. Awkward family conflict or not, she was still the most tolerable he had yet to find. This was quite clearly a crowd of do-gooders, and while he had come with this knowledge in mind, he was still somewhat overwhelmed by it all.

He supposed he wasn’t that surprised to spot Emmeline Vance among the guests. This most certainly seemed like her crowd. She had been on his mind since he had seen her last, just two days ago. Normally, he would never have dreamed of approaching her, but in comparison to everyone else here, he supposed he could tolerate her presence. 

“Emmeline,” He said in greeting, taking a sip of his drink as he approached her. “Some wedding, huh?”

@emmelinevalerianvance

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lucixtalkalot·:

Vincent suddenly turned into a dictionary as she told him she wanted to be called ‘determined’. Lucinda had to smile a little at the meaning behind the two words. “Both you say?” She repeated. She thought about it only a little bit before she nodded. “I guess I will have to agree with you about that. Although I will probably deny it when someone calls me relenteless,” she told him. It was just the way their talk was going that she was okay with him saying it.

Lucinda took a sip of her drink as she watched the silent man sitting next to her. At this time she just wondered what was going through his mind at this moment. What was going through the mind of this troubled man that had everything one moment but the next moment he had nothing anymore. She knew she was in a bad situation but after the short while they had been talking now, she knew that it wasn’t as bad as the situation he was in.

“I do have some money yes, so I think it is gonna end up you being drunk,” she told him. Lucinda was sure that she didn’t have to worry about the money of the rest of her life. The Talkalot money was all hers, there was no one she had to share it with now her mother had passed away. If she added her money made as Quidditch Player… No, she did not have to worry about it.

Lucinda only raised her eyebrows at his comment about his bedroom. She had no idea how it had been before but it was a massive change in that case. “You are making it sound like you are not going back there. It does not have to be like that.” She looked at the pictures that he was drawing on the bartop before she looked back up at Vincent. “I have not been given my job, I have worked hard for it. And you can do the same if you want to go back to the Ministry.”

Vincent laughed, “I think you’re correct about that, Miss Talkalot.” He brought his drink up to his mouth and finished it one sip. Three drinks in such a short amount of time left an effect on most people, and Vincent was included in that. He glanced at the bartender, wondering if he ought to get his fourth drink or not. He then glanced over to Lucinda. If she was buying, then he didn’t see why he shouldn’t. “Excuse me,” He called to the bartender. “I’ll take another one of these.” He held up his glass for indication. He then cleared his throat.

                 --- “On her tab, too.” He said, motioning towards Lucinda with a nod of his head. “Thanks.” 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about this conversation. Losing his job at the Ministry, while not being as sore of a spot as his parentage, was still quite an ache. It had been a source of pride for him before, however mundane. He did his job, and he did it well, and he made his father proud by doing so. Losing all of that, in one single evening, was rough. 

The bartender handed Vincent his fourth drink of the night, and he smiled at her in thanks, a far cry friendlier than he had been at the beginning of this evening. Rough or not, the alcohol made all things easier, and to his surprise, he found himself opening up about it, just a little. 

“You must not know my father.” He commented dryly, taking a sip. The gin was beginning to burn less, making it easier to drink more. “Well, ex-father, I suppose.  Anyways, he’s got his hands in every department of the Ministry. I haven’t got a chance at working there again.”

a guy walks into a bar

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alectoachlyscarrow·:

Alecto knew – she’d known all along how terrible her engagement would make her feel. On the surface she remained almost neutral to it, careless, unbothered, but in the inside she despised any marriage she couldn’t choose on her own. Though she hadn’t really gone to this stage with Vincent yet, it was clear the Avery boy was a perfect choice for her, or so her father would suggest any way. Still, with them getting a bit closer than formerly anticipated, Alecto started to accept her father’s decisions considering she wouldn’t find a better match. No, this engagement hadn’t been based on love or real trust at first, but she started to feel for Vincent in a way she couldn’t rationally explain, not like she was used to. Mutual respect and a freedom within the cage her father tried to cage her in, she clung onto him as a source of strength rather than someone whose entire life would mix with hers, robbing her off her personality and duty in this world. Alecto was, after all, an individual first and a soldier second. No one, not even Amycus, could rob her off of her individualism and need for freedom – but with Vincent she partially agreed to let go off that thought and create a newly defined role for herself as a spell inventor first and wife second. 

Months past and the truth came out. Now she walked on her own again, free and thriving on the pain of others. This unsatisfactory life turned out to be the base of a legacy. Having lost the weight off of her shoulders Alecto finally learned how to breathe again, how to fully invest her time to her legacy – and she’d soon be recognized for her own achievements.

Her thoughts kept her pretty occupied as she walked through the busy streets of Diagon Alley before slowly taking a right turn into Knockturn Alley. Darkness welcomed her, let her face reappear with every new crack of sunlight she approached. She’d come for one particular reason: to find out if anyone within the White Wyvern Pub was willing to earn a few galleons and be her willing test subjects. Approaching the White Wyvern, however, she had to follow a path up the stairs, just next to Markus Scarrs Indelible Tattoo – a place she’d never even recognized before, never cared for, but this time – a pair of curious, blue eyes watched her. Coming to an abrupt halt, Alecto pressed one hand gently against the surprisingly clear window, almost as if to stabilize herself, almost as if to grab through it. She didn’t know what to think or what to feel, even. Maybe she’d already found what she was looking for – a willing subject.

Opening the door and entering the shop she’d ignored ever since setting foot into Knockturn Alley for the first time, Alecto immediately approached Vincent with a stern gaze. She kept her poise, kept her hands together in front of her chest ever since she’d entered the tattoo studio. “That’s a lot of commitment,” she pointed out dryly while gesturing at some of the pre-designed tattoos. “Vincent,” she added with a softer tone to her voice, almost as if to calm him. “You seem – lost. I could help you if you desire.”

Romance had never been a priority to Vincent. Back at Hogwarts, while most of his peers were discovering their newfound hormones, he quietly ignored them, devoting his time and attention towards his pursuit of knowledge. He knew the life laid out before him included a wife he would likely have no say in choosing, and he was content with that. For a lot of his youth, he had always hoped that it would be Georgina chosen for him. They were twin souls, they always said, and he had more in common with her than anyone else he had ever known. And yet life was not kind, especially to those who wanted things. It was not Georgina that he would spend his life with, but Alecto Carrow. Like all things, he accepted this with little argument, setting forth into his engagement with his usual disengaged indifference. It was not a match based in feeling, and yet when was it ever for people like them? He never quite managed to let go of those feelings for Georgina --- even now, they swirled around inside of him, angry at being ignored. But, despite this, he was surprised by the way he came to settle with the idea with surprising tranquility. There was an unspoken understanding between Vincent and Alecto --- neither of them had chosen this path, yes, but they did not have to allow it to define them. 

In time, Vincent even came to care for her. She was smart, almost ruthlessly so, and it was that quality that eventually endeared her to him. Yes, there was no love between them, but one day maybe there would be. That alone was something Vincent never thought he might have. Alecto Carrow was an unlikely choice, but he had come to understand that she would make a good wife for him, and he a good husband for her. 

And then his mother opened her mouth, and it all fell apart. He hadn’t reached out to Alecto since then, wary of what she would say to him now that he wasn’t a pureblood anymore. He supposed he never had been, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt like something had been ripped away from him. Still, he didn’t expect Alecto to be very understanding, previous relationship or not. He hadn’t thought much of her in these last two months, too focused on trying to keep a roof over his head while also avoiding his sister. But there she was, right over there, looking directly at him. All of those old thoughts and feelings came rushing back, and against his better judgement, he found himself taking a step towards her.

His eyes flickered towards the tattoos on the wall and then back to her. “I’ve got no problem with commitment, Alecto, you know that.” He said, his tone reflecting her gentleness back to her. How strange, to run into her like this, and to speak like nothing had changed. 

               “Lost?” He said. “Well, you’re not wrong.” He had never felt more lost than he had in these last two months. She was hitting the nail on the head. “Though, I wonder what sort of help you could provide?”

[sadavery-blog]

andrcmedastcnks·:

Andromeda had been shocked when she heard about the Averys and Vincent.she had known both of the siblings, and had not expected to hear that one of the siblings wasn’t a full blooded one. A part of her felt sad at the news, but another more selfish part felt joy at the prospect of another one being exiled from the pureblood community. That’s apparently all she was these days– selfish. She was selfish in the sense of not abandoning Ted despite the added hatred it would cause him. She was selfish for not choosing her family over her own desires. Andromeda should’ve felt guilty, but if she was going to feel guilty about every selfish thing she’s done she would drown in the feeling.

Andromeda refused to drown.

She hadn’t known how to continue the conversation. She could ask about the weather, but she knew when someone used that question on her it would cause an immediate eye roll. She couldn’t ask him about his family because it was a touchy subject and Andromeda knew she wouldn’t want the question thrown back at her. She was going to mention another art piece when Vincent spoke up again.

“Sadly, it appears I am. Ted’s friends with the hosts, and the Weasleys were insisting that they could—” She paused, realizing Vincent did not know about Dora’s existence. “Watch their kids without us. “ An odd thing to say, but it was better than the truth. “Are you?”

This conversation was both unbearably stiff, and terribly uncomfortable, and yet he found himself staying put nonetheless. He wondered if Andromeda was thinking the same thing. Something about the tone of her voice made him feel like she was. 

                                                    Sadly, it appears I am. 

This made him smile. He couldn’t explain it, nor could he put his finger on it, but he felt a kinship with Andromeda, entirely separate from their life predicaments. Weddings, and other gaudy events, had never excited him. For most of his life, he remembered such things with disdain. He’d always felt more superior than his peers, and this was never more plain to him than the occasions he was forced to be around them. 

It was strange that the Weasley’s insisted they could watch their own kids without the help of Andromeda and her muggleborn, but he didn’t comment on that. His thoughts were still focused primarily on the wedding. 

“Probably not.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t be very welcome, all things considered.” He didn’t feel the need to explain just what all things were. She would understand. “Likely, I’ll stay at home.”

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marauder-remus-lupin·:

“Friends, are you?” Remus asked casually, politely if anything, but inside he wracked his memory for any moment in which Peter might have mentioned a friendship with Vincent. Remus would have to ask Wormtail about that later, and made a mental note to himself to do just that. Remus wouldn’t put it past Vincent Avery to be dishonest, but about a friendship with Peter? Remus doubted he would make up such a lie, especially when its validity was so easily checked and there was so little to be gained, which only meant there was likely some kernel of truth to his claim. Either way, it wasn’t so bothersome to Remus as it was a curiosity. If they were friends, why had Peter never mentioned Vincent before? Surely he didn’t think the Marauders would think any less of him for befriending a pureblood? Hell, James was a pureblood and they’d all befriended Sirius long before he’d left his family. 

“Tough day at work.” Remus replied simply to Vincent’s question. It wasn’t a lie, work as a curse-breaker was never truly easy. Each day was a new challenge, but it was one that Remus enjoyed. His response, however, left much of the truth out as Remus wasn’t likely to discuss the current state of the moon or its affect on him with a practical stranger. “And you? Any particular reason you’re having a drink on a Thursday?” He asked, lifting his rightful drink to his lips and taking a sip.

Friends was perhaps a bit of a stretch when it came to defining Vincent’s relationship with Peter Pettigrew. They didn’t often spend time together, outside of their conversations while Vincent was working. Peter was a regular at Sugarplums, giving Vincent ample opportunity to see him. But beyond the one meeting of Gobstones Club that he had attended, per Peter’s request, the two had not spent much time together. Still, whether or not it made any sense, Vincent was fond of Peter. Much more so than he was for anyone else he hadn’t already known for at least a decade. Maybe friends was the correct label. 

                                                 “Yeah, friends.” Vincent confirmed, in his typical short fashion.

The edges of Vincent’s lips twitched into a slight smile. Tough day at work. A good enough reason to drink, as any. Vaguely, he wondered what sort of work Lupin had found that was so stressful, considering his young age. Though, he supposed that didn’t matter. He was working an entry-level job himself, now, and he was plenty stressed. Though, he did have plenty of other mitigating factors. 

He wasn’t all too surprised to see Lupin turn his question back towards him. Vincent lifted his glass in Lupin’s direction, and then brought it towards his mouth for a sip. As he set it back down on the counter, the ghost of a smile resting on his face pulled itself into something stronger, and more solid. “Tough day at work.”

a guy walks into a bar

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emmelinevalerianvance·:

Emmeline watched the anger flash in his eyes, further illustrated in the way his fingers curled into tight fists. Her hand absently reached for her glass, holding it steady in the event that he banged his fists against the worn wood of the table. And though his words were sharp, she sat before him calmly. “I do. Hence the drink.” She said, inclining her head once more in gesture toward the drink. If he wanted to rehash her rude behavior all evening, it would be a boring one, but she would understand. Emmeline knew what it was like to feel the pain of loss, the anger at the hollow ache in your chest, and how good it felt to find an outlet for that anger. Of course, she had put her anger toward keeping busy, hunting down dark wizards with a renewed fervor at work and through the Order. If Vincent Avery wanted to yell at her, so be it.

Leaning foward, Emmeline folded her arms on the table, deciding that being candid with Vincent was likely the best policy. “Look, I’ve apologized for my behavior once already, and if it wasn’t up to standard I can try again, but something tells me it’s not going to make any more of a difference.” She couldn’t change how Vincent wanted to feel, no matter what she said. Again, Emmeline reached for her own drink, taking a sip and mulling over his words.

“I think you’d be surprised how much we have in common.” She mused aloud, setting her drink back on the table. In fact, Vincent Avery would be shocked if he only knew the half of it. Each of them had been lied to and abandoned by the same man. It was ironic, really, how Vincent carried the name whilst Emmeline the blood. There were so many questions she still had for him, burning in the back of her mind, but she wouldn’t ask them. Emmeline had pushed her luck too far, and Vincent Avery clearly wasn’t in the mood for her impolite questions. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I’m done bothering you.”

Silence settled on Vincent. He had always been more quiet than vocal, more the type to look and listen than to speak and act. Like a grassy field covered in a blanket of snow, his mind was still momentarily. His eyes still rested on his half-eaten sandwich, but his hands were moving, slowly uncurling themselves to rest in a more natural position. Hence the drink. 

          --- Well, of all of the apologies, he supposed a free drink was one of the betters. 

A sigh filtered out from between his lips, and leaned back into his chair. The anger was dissolving away, leaving as quickly as it had arrived, but the uncomfortable confusion still remained. She had apologized for her behavior, yes, but that still didn’t explain why she was so interested? He wrapped a newly freed hand around his glass, finger tapping listlessly against the side leaving dots in the condensation surrounding the drink. The movement of her arms on the table captured his attention, and he found himself leaning forward, intent on piecing apart each word that left her mouth. She was right, another apology wouldn’t make any difference. 

But, that was okay. He didn’t need another one. 

“Well, then I appreciate that.” If anything, at least she wouldn’t continue to badger him with questions that hurt too much to think about, let alone answer. And again, there was the added fact that it was none of her business. Another beat passed between them. “I suppose I ought to thank you for the drink.” He didn’t continue to say an actual thank you, but that was the most she was going to get. And then he wondered, what did she mean, saying he would be surprised by what they had in common. It was an unusual thing to say to someone, but he didn’t voice that thought out-loud. A question for another time, he supposed. 

[sadavery-blog]

lucixtalkalot·:

If there was one man that Lucinda hadn’t expected at the wedding, it was Vincent Avery. He didn’t fit the people concerning this wedding but then again… He didn’t fit in any world at the moment is she had to say that. But it had been a surprise to see him at the wedding. Going to be at the wrong place at the wrong time probably. Just as many at this location. Just as she was going to be probably.

Lucinda had been doing some research about Alexandra Walters before she decided to take over her identity for the weekend. She had learned that the blonde was a big flirt and that was something that she could live with, it was something that she did as well but this time she could be out in the open about it. So when Vincent had caught her eye she had decided to fool around a little bit.

A smile played on her lips when Vincent opened up his mouth when he caught her looked at him. She took the drink off the bar and set a step closer to him. She ignored the rude tone of his voice, the smile not disappearing of her face. “You don’t recognise me anymore?” Lucinda had no idea if Vincent ever met Alexandra but she figured out that he met so many people at the Ministry that it was easy to forget a face. “Alexandra Walters, we came in contact several times at the Ministry. It’s nice to see you here, Vincent.”

                                              You don’t recognize me anymore?’

Vincent frowned. Should he recognize her? He tried to think back, wondering where he might have seen her face before. He wasn’t the forgetful type, so it really was strange that he couldn’t place her. Perhaps they worked together? She wasn’t a pureblood, at least not one of a big enough name to have warranted contact with him. 

His questions were answered soon enough. Alexandra Walters. The name didn’t ring a bell, leaving him still as confused as he had been before. So, they had worked together. Hm, he thought to himself. She must not have made very much of an impression on Vincent if he really knew so little about her. A few months ago, he would have greeted her with the level of politeness expected by him. Things had changed since then. He didn’t feel like being cordial, not with someone who used to know him. Still, he couldn’t likely bolt in the opposite direction. It seemed that, for now, he was trapped in this conversation. 

                      “Forgive me, Miss Walters, but I’m afraid my memory is failing me today.” He took another sip of his champagne, and let his eyes glide away for a moment in search of an escape. When he still couldn’t find one, he looked back. 

                      “Though I suppose it’s nice to see you here, as well. Enjoying the afternoon, I hope?”

[sadavery-blog]

#for science.

bonus:

[sadavery-blog]

WHO: Vincent Avery and Alexandra Walters (Lucinda Talkalot) WHEN: Thursday, June 14th, 1979. 12:47PM. WHERE: The Macmillian Wedding

Freshly away from his conversation with Anastasiya, Vincent padded his way across the reception ground. There was a rather annoying flute floating around behind him, whistling and dancing with the music. He was hoping that if he walked through a crowded enough area it might find someone else to hover around, but it was still there when he made it across the other side. Frowning in annoyance, he changed course and headed towards a waiter carrying a tray of champagne. Grabbing his third one of the afternoon, he turned and continued on his way. He stuck out like a sore thumb in a party filled with such good people. His nose turned upwards in distaste. He really ought to leave. 

He still had yet to locate Andromeda, though, so he decided to push on and stay just a little while longer. He downed half of his drink in one fell swoop, and while doing so, he felt the unsettling feeling of being watched. Glancing to his left suspiciously, he made eye contact with--- a stranger? He couldn’t place her face, nor her name, and yet she was staring at him with such recognition that it almost made him uncomfortable.

                  “Excuse me?” He said, a bit rudely. “Can I help you?”

@lucixtalkalot​

[sadavery-blog]

With his second glass of champagne held stiffly in his hands, Vincent glanced around for somebody bearable to spend his time with. He hadn’t exactly been invited personally to the wedding, but technically, he was Andromeda’s plus one so he reckoned it was alright that he was here. Not that he’d seen Andromeda, at least not yet anyways. Vincent had figured it was mutually understood between them that they didn’t need to arrive together. Still, after nearly half of an hour of awkwardly trying to avoid conversation, he was beginning to feel frazzled. 

He skulked his way around the party-goers, wondering why he had thought it was a good idea to come in the first place. While he recognized many of the people here, whether it be from work or school or elsewhere, they weren’t the crowd he spent much time with. And if he wasn’t mistaking anything, he was getting a few weird looks from people. 

As he considered whether or not he should just leave, he noticed a familiar figure in the distance. His eyebrows furrowed together for a closer look. Too familiar. He moved in their direction, bringing his glass up for another drink. Upon being close enough to make them out, his eyes widened. Anastasiya was here? The usual anxiety over seeing figures from his past filled him, but it was outweighed by his desperation to escape this awkward solitude. 

            “I was just thinking the same thing.” He murmured, sidling up next to her. She was speaking more to herself than to him, he reckoned, but it was a good enough entry to conversation anyways. “This champagne isn’t strong enough.”

when: july 13th 1976, 12:23pm. where: ezra macmillian & eliza abbott’s wedding. who: anastasiya krum & anyone.

A small sigh escaping her lips, Anastasiya stood there awaiting someone of rather interest, or that she vaguely knew as her gaze scanned the crowd for someone she would finally know. Well at least that she wasn’t irritated to make conversation with, especially when it came to the minute fact that those who she didn’t already know would ask the usual humdrum of questions — how did she find England? Did she miss Bulgaria? Was speaking English difficult compared to Bulgarian? Merlin, she found that sometimes the imbeciles that she was surrounded by could make her wish that she could hex the lot of them, and finally be rid of them. Her fingers curling around the nearest champagne glass that she could find, she began to easily down the golden liquid, as she began to search for an alcoholic liquid that she actually could tolerate, none of the pathetic fluid she has just began to drink. However in her search for something that she could finally ingest; a small mutter escaped her lips, "All I wanted was someone sufficient enough to converse with and some decent bourbon. Is that too much to ask for?” Why even was she here again?

[sadavery-blog]

lucixtalkalot·:

Lucinda actually had to laugh when Vincent pointed out at her that she was relentless. “I don’t think anyone had ever said that to my face,” she told him after having thought about it for a bit. Must didn’t dare to say it out loud but she was pretty sure that the most people she met would think that. Or probably that she is just a straight nosy bitch. On which she could not disagree either. “I wouldn’t call myself relentless however. Let’s just call it determined,” she pointed out. That at least sounded much nicer than ‘relentless’. Everything to make the negative sound better, right?

“Another drink to keep you talking? I’m gonna be broke or you’re going to be drunk by the end of the night I guess. One of the two.” Lucinda motioned at the bartender to put that drink on her account as well. She could miss the few money pieces at the end of the night. Especially if it meant that she would be getting answers on what her future possibly could be. She had grown up in a different career path and in a different family but she was pretty certain that it could get very close to her own future if the Carrow would kiss and tell.

No more money. Well, that was not going to be the case on her side at least. She was the one and only heir to the Talkalot name and fortune. There was no one alive to take it from her, a very far cousin maybe but she did not know of their existance at all. That would be an unpleasant surprise if that turned out to be the case… No more job. Maybe she was more blessed than she expected. She had fought for this job on her own, she had gotten it with talent. Maybe Lucinda was wrong in the end and she would not end up in such a bad situation as he did. But he did not know his real blood status. You did.

Lucinda quickly pushed the thought to the back of her mind and she took a sip of her drink. “That is quite the change, yes. Your living space must be a massive change as well.” She put her drink back on the bar and looked at Vincent. From working as a manager to working in a candy shop. “Working at the Ministry didn’t sound like a real dream to me to be honest. So working in a candy store can’t be much worse.”

Vincent was an odd child, spending much more time in his books than he ever did in his playroom. By the age of seven, he had already read a dictionary from front-to-back and made it his mission to use a different and new word each day. This came in handy sometimes, much like right now. “Determined. Displaying unwavering resolve. Relentless.. Oppressively constant and incessant. --- Same words, different spin. Determined sounds more noble, I think. I see why you would want to use it.” He smiled. “I think you can be both determined and relentless. They’re different enough words that I believe they don’t have to be mutually exclusive.” 

He fell silent again, looking away from her and back towards his drink. The conversation they were having was strange, unexpected, and entirely out of the usual. But it was lifting a weight from his chest, and he felt a lightness take root in his gut. It wouldn’t last forever, he knew that. Likely, the feeling would be gone by the time he returned home. Unless he returned home too drunk, that is. Even so, it would be gone tomorrow when he woke. 

“Aren’t you a big fancy Quidditch player?” He asked. “You will hardly be what I consider broke.” He grabbed his drink, taking a long sip. “But, I will probably be drunk.” His face was already growing warm with drink, it probably wouldn’t be too long until his inhibitions began to fall away with more speed. 

The comment on his living space brought out a laugh. “I don’t even have a door to my bedroom, so yes, massive change indeed.” He didn’t concern himself very much over this, but sometimes, it was hard to ignore. “I liked working in the Ministry.” He murmured, making pictures on the bartop with the condensation left behind by his drink. “It’s what I was supposed to do. I was good at it.”

a guy walks into a bar