made-of-flint-blog

[made-of-flint-blog]

roman-jadore‌:

“Shall we?” Roman offered her his arm, before proceeding to lead her outside. The balcony they found themselves on was quiet, nobody around except for them. The air was crisp, the view of Mount Snowdon absolutely breathtaking under the starlight. Roman inhaled deep and felt his shoulders relax; this was what he needed.

“I apologize,” Roman told Maida, as he leaned against the balcony railing, “I just needed to get away from…” he gestured in a vague direction, but she knew she’d understand, “I had a feeling you needed to, as well.”

His gaze travelled over the snowy peaks in the distance, considering his next words carefully. “I wasn’t expecting so much politics at a Yule celebration.”

With only a moment’s thought, Maida took Roman’s arm and allowed him to steer her outside. She didn’t doubt that it would be remarked upon by some busy body, but she hoped that they were too busy talking about the announcements from the evening to care. 

“And you needed me to do it?” she queried, raising one brow, not wholly convinced. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have come outside on his own. 

She had already released his arm and now leaned against the balcony herself. “Well there is a war on,” she said caustically, almost sarcastically. As if she had been told that one too many times herself. 

[made-of-flint-blog]

halfnott‌:

Ava’s breath was shaky as she walked side by side with Maida, trying to keep her nerves calm as they wandered the garden. “You know it’s about Octavius.” The younger woman twisted her ring around her finger almost fiercely, looking back to make sure no one or thing was following them. “You know him best in a way that I’ll… eventually know him. You’re the only one I can really talk to about this.” She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she thought back on the previous night, the good and the bad of it all. “He came with me to the opera, you know how much I love the opera, and we were being cute and flirty -I actually flirted pretty well, if you can believe it- as we were watching… And he kissed me last night, like a starving man with his first morsel of food in years. My first kiss, and he basically attacked my mouth with his. His hand was in my hair and everything.”

The hedges kept the two in semi-privacy, and Ava could have sworn she saw her stepmother haunting one of the windows, as if trying to find them and listen in via a spell. “My first kiss… and that’s what he did. And in my shock, I will admit I ran. I just… thought he wasn’t like that. Despite all the rumors, he was being gentlemanly and nice. But he’s not. Not really.” A sigh left her as they found a stone bench among the last blooms of the year, and Ava collapsed on it, pulling Maida with her so at least they were close if she didn’t sit down with her. With that, the younger girl pulled off her heels and relaxed her feet. “Is he always like that? All rough and selfish? Should I say something to him? Or my father? Get Papa to dissolve this? I mean it’s a bit too late to do it without a back up husband, but we can figure something out. Between you, me, and Mother’s relentless desire to get rid of me…” It was all becoming word vomit, a hand passing through her curls in exasperation. “Maybe I can con Sirius Black into marrying me. At least I know what I’m getting with him. Or that Avery boy. He seems nice if not wholly uninterested in the feminine sex with all the girls his mother’s shoved in his face. I could deal with that.”

Maida refrained from pointing out that Ava had said boys rather than a singular boy, or man in particular. She knew that whatever her friend wanted to talk to her about was serious and not easy for her to get out. Maida knew Ava well enough for that. “Ava I--” she began to protest, wrinkling her face up as she tried to head the younger woman off. She didn’t want to talk about her past with Octavius, especially not her sexual one and certainly not with Ava of all people.

She had to keep from groaning aloud as Ava just kept going. On and on. Once she started, it seemed she was impossible to stop. Maida did not want to be in this position. She wanted to support Ava, and under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be so awkward, but they were talking about someone Maida had slept with--multiple times--and Ava, instead of having the good sense to avoid the topic at all costs like Maida did was coming to the dark haired woman for advice! 

Oh Merlin Ava, you’re so naive.

Maida followed Ava almost automatically as the girl prattled on. She almost missed the bench as Ava pulled her down onto it, but managed to keep from sliding off and into the flowerbeds. Summoning her patience, Maida breathed in and out, trying to calm her annoyance. Ava was an innocent, such an innocent. With anyone else, Maida wouldn’t have bothered. She would have lashed out, or simply walked away. But this was Ava, and none of Maida’s usual responses were an option. 

“Ava, stop,” she said firmly, though not unkindly. She laid a comforting hand on her friend’s arm while inwardly her stomach clenched and she could feel the beginnings of a headache. “Sweetheart, he probably didn’t realize this was your first kiss...ever.” Even if Pureblood girls were told to remain chaste and pure, most of them had at least been kissed before. But not Ava apparently. “And...all right if you must know, you might as well take it as a compliment.” She sighed and blew a strand of hair away from her face. Her fingers moved up, pressing against her temples before running through her hair. 

“He-well I’m assuming he couldn’t control himself. Some men...they get caught up in the lust, in the wanting. He wanted you and...well he was showing it.” She winced, not sure if she was explaining this correctly. Inwardly, she was cursing Octavius. While Maida had liked his aggressive approach and met him at least halfway, Ava was a different creature entirely. She was delicate and needed to be coddled and cajoled into new experiences. While she had inner bravery and strength, it was not the first resource she pulled upon when scared.

“And what would you really say to your father?” she asked sternly, fixing Ava with a look. “Sorry Papa, but he kissed me and I didn’t like it?” Maida crossed her arms over her chest and looked out over the garden. “It’s not as if our feelings matter anyway,” she grumbled. She sighed then, and turned back to Ava. “I’m sorry that you didn’t like your first experience with kissing,” she said sympathetically. “But many people don’t.” Merlin, but she was going to kill Octavius, not only for scaring Ava, but for making Maida have to deal with this. 

[made-of-flint-blog]

roman-jadore‌:

Ah, so she’d picked up on that, had she? Roman made a mental note to not underestimate Maida’s astuteness in future interactions. He responded with a non-committal hum, lifting his whiskey glass to his lips the second the drink was served to him.

“Perhaps we should take this conversation outside, mon cher?” He peered into his drink, swirling the ochre liquid around the glass, “I’m sure the view is stunning, around this time.”

Maida raised an eyebrow. “You know, I have heard that before,” she mused, taking another sip of her drink. She weighed her options...and what she wanted. She could go outside with him, or not. So far he seemed more interesting than anyone or anything happening in here. And Roman was someone she didn’t know as well as almost everyone else here. It made him more exciting. 

Even if he was suggesting what he seemed to be...well there was no reason Maida had to go along with anything she didn’t want to, and she was more than capable of handling herself. Besides, it was less likely that they would be overheard, and Maida was curious as to what he wasn’t enjoying, and why. Because they seemed to be the only two people.

She inclined her head. “A breath of fresh air would be nice,” she acquiesced. 

[made-of-flint-blog]

henrysayre‌:

“Let’s see,” Henry sighed sarcastically and lifted a hand to count the reasons about why he felt down. “Richard, the McKinnon’s, it having taken considerably longer than the rest for my legs to have decided it was okay to function, and my rethinking my profession because of that…” He paused and shook his head. “I would say no reason. Everything is fine.”

Maida pulled a face. “Well when you put it like that.” She waved down the bartender. “I think we’ll keep them coming,” she said, gesturing to herself and Henry. “What did the Healers say?” she asked, before realizing it was rather a personal question. “Not that you have to tell me. But did they give you any reason not to expect a full recovery?” They did live in a world of magic after all. She wondered what could possibly have affected Henry so that he was still having trouble with his legs. “We do have magic, after all.” 

[made-of-flint-blog]

It was strange that Maida hadn’t seen Ava really today. She had caught glimpses of her friend, flitting between different groups of people, but no close contact. It made her wonder if something was wrong, or whether she had done something wrong. Maida couldn’t think of anything, but there was always the chance. She wasn’t exactly known for being flawless. 

It was with some relief then that Ava approached her, though in looking at her, Maida could tell immediately that something was in fact wrong. Without a question, Maida followed Ava, linking their arms together as they came out to the garden. “Deep breath,” she said, wanting her friend to suck in the fresh air and calming scent of the outdoors. “Now tell me. Boys in general or one in particular?” Maida raised an eyebrow. Frankly she’d be more shocked if Ava said she needed help with boys in general. Her friend was nothing if not dutiful and loyal and she was engaged to Octavius.

Date: September 16th, early afternoon Location: Nott Manor @made-of-flint

Ava had been struggling through her own birthday party, trying to keep from breaking down in tears at the memory of the night before. Octavius had basically shattered any good thoughts she’d had about him when he rather forcibly kissed her. With time to think about it, she wasn’t so much hurt by the action, but more so about the shattering of the rose-tinted glasses she had for him and for her future. It was such a shock to her that her reaction to the fierce kiss she received had driven her fiance to leaving her at the opera, alone.

“Maida–“ Ava’s voice was soft and almost breaking as she pulled her best friend from the festivities that she couldn’t find the heart to enjoy. “Walk with me in the garden… I need your advice. About boys.” Ava rarely had ever asked her for that, so that would surely set off an alarm in her friend’s head.

[made-of-flint-blog]

knockturnburke‌:

“Maida… what a pleasant surprise” he drawled, glancing up at her over the top of his bottle. Butterbeer may have seemed childish to some, but it allowed him to keep his wits about him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I am currently waiting for a client who appears to have been delayed, so I do not mind the company. How have you been keeping?”

“Ooo, how mysterious,” Maida teased. She raised a hand and a waitress nodded at her. She sat back, willing to wait. “I’ve been well thank you, and you?” She watched him, then bit her lip, concern flashing across her face. “With all the Ministry attention, are you sure you should still be meeting with clients? Or is this one perfectly above board?” A hint of amusement lit in her eyes, warring with her concern for her friend. Friends. For if anything happened to Octavius, there would be repercussions for Ava as well.  

[made-of-flint-blog]

roman-jadore‌:

Oh, how Roman wished he could answer that question truthfully. But the walls, he knew, had ears- and he’d already drawn enough attention to himself for the evening.

“Indeed, Yule is one of the far more enjoyable times of the year,” Roman waved a waiter over and requested a tumbler of whiskey, neat. “We should all be enjoying ourselves.”

He couldn’t help it when he added, under his breath: “Never mind the fact that this all feels like another day at the office.”

One might say that Roman was sick to death of not being able to escape all the politics. One might also say that that was a bit of an understatement.

Maida was certainly not brilliant. She did not excel in all her classes, was not a master of all wand work and spells. But she had made a study of society, especially those in her own. She had to in order to learn how to exist within it. Her mother had abandoned her to the metaphorical wolves and while her aunt and the housekeeper tried to do their best....Well there were some things a girl had to do and learn for herself. So she caught the emphasis Roman placed on the word ‘should.’ 

“Should, but aren’t?” she asked, watching him over the rim of her glass. Her tone had lowered with the question knowing full well he would not want to advertise the fact if he were not enjoying himself.

[made-of-flint-blog]

roman-jadore‌:

Roman returned to the main hub of the party after his little friendly chat with Charles, running a hand through his hair to tame it as best he could. He’d find a mirror and straighten up soon- all it really took was a wave of the wand, though he had to see what he was doing- but, first, he needed another drink. Preferably, as strong as possible.

He blindly reached for a glass of whatever was closest, pausing only when his fingers brushed against those of another. Roman glanced over to meet the gaze of whoever had apologized to him, smiling out of reflex.

“It’s alright,” he said, looking between the woman and the crystal glass he’d reached for. He resisted the urge to pull a face when he saw what it was. “It’s all yours. Truth be told, the sparkling wine is less than stellar, tonight.”

Roman allowed his gaze to travel over her as he spoke; he recognized her, naturally, but she wasn’t just any society woman. He actually knew her from work- a refreshing difference, in this community. Roman’s smile brightened only a fraction, slipping from fake and affected to almost genuine. 

“Are you enjoying your evening, Miss Flint?”

For all that Maida was decidedly not enjoying some aspects of the evening, she would never actually admit that to anyone. Besides, what good was it to complain about something like this? No, I’m not, everyone is far too dull and obsessed with the war? Even Maida could hear how that would sound. She took the glass off the tray, glad he had been a gentleman and let her have it. A sip and a smile in his direction. 

“Of course I am,” she responded brightly. “It’s Christmas Eve after all!” Her aunt had invited her to spend Christmas with her, but Maida had preferred to attend the party. She would have enough ‘family time’ tomorrow if her father did in fact follow through on his plans to be home for Christmas. “Who could not be enjoying themselves on Christmas?” 

[made-of-flint-blog]

It was growing late, and Maida was growing tired. Weary. Not physically--Maida could party all night when the occasion called for it. But mentally she was sick of it all, at least for one evening. Same people, same shite, different night. And now they were bringing politics into the mix. More so than usual. It was madness and Maida was finding herself wishing when times were simpler. When it was all flirtations, and petty machinations and schemes. Those, Maida could deal with. This was just tiresome and far, far too dramatic--and not in a good way. 

As she turned, a sigh upon her lips and a hint of a frown marring her alabaster brow, her foot caught on something. Too big to be a wand, it went skidding across the floor. Maida looked up at who she had knocked into, hand going out to steady the man when she realized it was Henry and that she had kicked his cane. 

“Drat, bollocks, sorry.”

@henrysayre

[made-of-flint-blog]

Black Christmas Party December 24, 1978 OPEN

Maida was not a particularly charitable person in general. She did not do things for people simply out of the goodness of her own heart. For appearances, yes. Because she had to? Sometimes. But the causes were few and far between that actually moved her. Still, the principle of the matter was that it was for good. She could rationalize spending money on tickets then. But for it to go to a campaign fund? Politics were the problem of late, not the solution. They had everyone on edge. They broke people up into smaller factions. And for what? The Purebloods would always be on top, that was a matter of fact. It seemed to Maida that it was more about those who were not Pureblood, and what to do with them. 

She didn’t see the problem. Everyone was working themselves into a tizzy about the Halfbloods and the Mudbloods when there was no reason to. They needed people to do the more menial jobs, didn’t they? Maida certainly wouldn’t stoop to being a dragon dung cleaner or someone who worked in an owlery. People like that had their place in society, and fretting about them frankly didn’t seem to Maida to be doing any good. 

The raven haired woman sighed as people tittered, the speech done. She reached for a glass of champagne--the last glass of champagne--on a tray just as another person did. Hands brushed as fingers closed around the stem of the crystal. 

“Sorry about that.” 

[made-of-flint-blog]

“Oh can I? How kind of you,” Maida drawled back before elegantly taking her seat. She had noticed him when she came in, had seen at once the subtle tension in his body, the blackness of his mood. Her cool composure broke, changing to a warm smile for her friend. “Nice of you not to send me packing.” 

Time and Date: 13th September, 8:00pm Location: The Fountain of Fair Fortune

In several days it would be Ava’s birthday, but at the moment in time, he wasn’t focused on the days to come or even the present. His mind was fixed solely in the past. Ten days ago his friend, arguably his best friend and his best man, had been arrested and thrown into Azkaban. Why for he could not say, since he was completely sure that the other man had nothing to do with Percival Prewett’s death, but since the incompetent Aurors had been raiding his shop every other day, his confidence in their judgement was lacking. 

Tapping his fingers again the table in front of his, he waited for his buyer to appear for the had procured for him. despite the troubling news that had him almost tipping over the edge of angry towards furious, life went on and so did business. His clients did not concern themselves with Octavius’s thoughts and feelings, and nor did Octavius wish to share them. Grinding his teeth together, he remembered the look on Violet’s face when she had told him, since he steered clear of the media himself and had to bite back the anger that rose inside of him. Not only had the Ministry harassed him and thrown his friend in jail, but they had hurt a woman whom he considered a sister.

Irritated suddenly by his own tapping, he wrapped his hands around his bottle of butterbeer to occupy them and continued to scan the room. There was still no sign of his client and though Octavius was rather early, he was also on edge. He didn’t like to make trade in such a public place, but this particular client did not care for the shop and had always insisted, so Octavius had begrudgingly agreed. Had the money been any less, he might have turned down the request, but business was business and he took what he could. 

“I’m waiting for someone” he drawled, as a shadow fell over his table. He looked up, shaking himself from his thoughts as he raised his bottle of butterbeer to his lips. “But since there seem to be very few vacant seats, you can join me if you wish…”

[made-of-flint-blog]

"Well I am just looking for my own company tonight,” Maida replied. She had had a particularly bad row with her father recently and simply wanted to escape. “Funnily, I find that if I’m sitting near enough another person to look like I’m with them, others tend to leave me alone. If you’re so against having anyone in any proximity to you, I can leave, but I don’t doubt that my place will only be taken by someone with actual interest,” she finished with a rueful smile. 

Date: November 12th, early evening Location: Sip and Smoke Open Starter

She’d never been a smoker, but her father’s associates were. However, she did immensely enjoy the 40 year old single-malt they offered her after she gently turned down their cigars. The meeting had ended an hour or so ago, but she was nursing the free drink they had left her with. The smell of smoke and the soft and deep tones of the customers was just where she deserved to be. She was feeling like she had a seat at the table her father denied her and gave to his son instead. Sitting next to one of the fireplaces, Adelaide stared into the fire and lost herself in just what she could do if perhaps her father took her as heir, how powerful she could make her family in the small society British purebloods had made, as she heard someone else slip into the leather chair next to her. Without letting the fact their appearance disturbed her play out on her face, she took a sip of her whiskey and glanced over at them. “Are you so desiring for company that you thought I was a good idea?” Self-deprecating as it was, it did better not to insult her new companion.

[made-of-flint-blog]

“I will never turn down a drink,” Maida replied with a smirk. “What’s got you so down in the face, though? You look like a flying horse and not in a good way.” She didn’t think she had ever seen Henry looking so morose and miserable. It was certainly a change for the usually happy go-lucky Quidditch player. Even his attire showed he was trying to avoid attention, but it was a poor disguise.

Temporary paralysis had been quite the eye opener for Henry. His cautiousness toward drinking still resulted in his drink being drugged. He was rather on edge after the whole ordeal and decided staying under everyone’s radar was a better idea than actively participating in pureblood politics. The whole thing was ridiculous enough to fuel his debating returning to the States until after New Years.

After much debate, it was decided that spending his evening cooped up in the family manor was not his best idea. He settled on visiting the Leaky Cauldron and dawned his finest muggle gear for the sake of not wanting to be recognized. Henry settled on an empty stool at the bar and rested his chin on his hand.

“The hardest liquor you’ve got,” He sighed when the bartender approached him, groaning when he heard a light scoff from somewhere behind him. “I can get one for you if you’re wanting to join me in my misery.” Henry narrowed his eyes and turned to face the cause of the sound. “If not, please leave me be.”

[made-of-flint-blog]

brigidmacmillan‌:

Brigid was the last person that anyone in their society would call sociable. She was usually awkward, clumsy and shy at the best of times. However, since the events of Sirius Black’s party had her keeping secrets she would really rather not, she found herself out on the town and looking for a distraction. Staring around the bar as she ordered a drink, she hoped to catch sight of the gorgeous Amycus or her new friend Narcissa, but had so far been left disappointed.

Smiling at the bartender in thanks, she took the offered glass of wine and downed almost half without even thinking to stop and savour it. Alcohol had become a new companion of hers as well, and though she knew that was probably not a good thing, she reasoned with herself that for now at least, there was no harm in it. Taking another sip, she almost choked on it in haste to answer the person who had directed a question at her.

“I assume that is what it is meant to do” she answered, placing her wine back down on the bar beside her, “and you look as if you’re already dancing inside”.

“Is that meant to be a compliment?” Maida asked, laughing a little. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing to be told one looked like they were already dancing inside. She hoped it was a good thing. Maida hated to lose face in public, and she certainly didn’t want anyone thinking she was nervous. Sometimes she was, but not tonight. Tonight she was just trying not to feel or think, but simply be.

[made-of-flint-blog]

halfnott‌:

“Of course I have reasons otherwise. Ten years worth of them!“ Ava couldn’t stop the laugh as it bubbled in her throat at her friend’s incredulous look. With a pout, she looked at her friend, who had been part of her life for nearly half of it now. Yes, she may have spent time with Ava’s future husband and Ava bringing her on was tempting fate, but she’d been assured over and over that they were done. Besides, no one knew the bride and groom better. Except perhaps their own families, but still. “Please be my maid of honor, Maida. I’m going to need your advice and ability to make me smile if I’m to survive this with my sanity intact.“

For once Maida was at a loss for words. Action didn’t fail her, though, and this time wouldn’t get her into trouble. “Yes! Ava of course I will!” she whispered as she threw her arms around her younger friend. It meant a lot to be asked to be part of her special day. If Ava’s mother had anything to say about it, the wedding would be one of the best of the season and Maida’s participation might not be welcome. But Ava had asked her and wanted her there, and of course Maida wanted to do it. Even if she had no real idea what being a maid of honour entailed. She would do this right, for Ava.

[made-of-flint-blog]

tristannott‌:

The party was quite well put together, in Tristan’s opinion. The music was not obscenely loud, the drinks were sufficient, and there was even a library room, that he found himself spending more time in than maybe he should have been. Tristan was here to socialize on behalf of his father, who had to miss the event for more important matters. Although he was no longer the head of the Nott empire, Tristan’s father liked to think of himself as such. So, Tristan was often sent to do the more menial tasks. 

He was moving through the dance floor, trying to find one more familiar face. Maida’s was the first he saw and he was instantly drawn to her on the floor. Managing a small smile, he nodded ever so slightly. “I don’t think anything has ever made me want to dance,” he laughed.

For a minute he watched her, allowing himself to sway to the beat. “You’re a nice dancer, though. I have no idea how you’re doing that.”

“Well maybe I could try,” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at him as she reached out, clasping his forearms gently. Her body continued swaying, even as his remained rigid. As with any man, Maida appreciated Tristan’s eyes on her. 

She leaned in a little bit, as if confiding a secret. “It’s all in the hips,” she said,  her voice low. That last drink had made her feel even better than the ones before--and there had been more than a couple. “It might also be the alcohol,” she added after a moment, laughing at herself and her admission. 

[made-of-flint-blog]

siriustheblackstar‌:

Sirius’ eyebrow arched in response to Maida’s comment. He’d hardly have said he was in Richard Selwyn’s company. Yes, the other man had attended a party he’d hosted, but it was not as if they were friendly. It was the teasing tone that bothered him, almost as if Maida thought she knew something. And from what he could recall, Maida had not attended his party for very long – at least not long enough to know what had happened with Percival. He’d been at the party until just before midnight and then he’d gone home had been the story they’d concocted and it was the story that anyone at the party had stuck to.

Perhaps he was simply being paranoid, though he did not wish to acknowledge that possibility.

“I am afraid I’m not certain what you are insinuating,” he told her, the pureblood tone affecting his voice. He did not know Maida Flint well and Sirius Black had no intention of giving away any information that could later be used against him. He lifted his glass to his lips before taking another drag of the cigar. He tilted his head up, exhaling so that the smoke would waft away from the table.

“No? Then you’ve either been away for too long or not long enough.” Because he either did know, or he didn’t, and Maida was entirely sure that he did. Not that she was fully insinuating anything. It was more of a tease, and clearly one he didn’t take particularly kindly to. 

“But I was merely making conversation, not insinuating anything,” she added with a shrug as she turned to order her own drink. A smile tugged at her lips. “That was very polite of you,” she commented, gesturing to his cigar. She knew plenty who would blow smoke in her face just to piss her off.