Shape of you

@sarai

It was now over a month — soon it would be even two months — since he had come to England, and things were more or less settling by now. They hadn’t run in any serious trouble, and there was little reason to fear that they would get unwanted attention any time soon. It was comfortable, being able to coexist with others and not having to suspect an attack at any time of the day. Things could change of course, his main worry still being that another clan at home would get wind of what Ampi was building here and sending one of their own over. It was unlikely that they’d risk something like that but not impossible, so he definitely shouldn’t rule it out. He should hear about something like that in time though, they had excellent spies back home. Until a storm was beginning to brew, he dared to be a little less careful than back at home and go to places that he had not under control without additional security.

After all he had heard, the Leaky Cauldron was a rather safe place anyway. He had made sure that the club would be in good hands this evening (though there was normally very little going on on a normal workday) and he had time to himself. There was nothing wrong with Ampi’s company of course, on the opposite, he very much appreciated it, but it also always made him feel like he should be doing something productive, and after a month of being productive, he didn’t feel like that. He didn’t want to babysit Juan either (not that he’d call it babysitting in his little brother’s face but he was still the largest source of worry that he had in this country) nor did he want to seek out Primo Fernando’s company — he was, first, mostly a stranger anyway, and second, not very easy to find. Other than that, he only knew the people at the Opium and that was work. If he was intending to do nothing, he certainly wouldn’t do so in the company of an employee. So where could he make the acquaintance of somebody who was not a risk? Certainly not to Knockturn Alley, that much he had learnt by now about the wizarding community here. Neither would he go to a club that were in direct concurrence to Ampi’s. It’d be close to spying, which would be, first, work, and second, dangerous. So going to a harmless place was the best solution, and the Leaky Cauldron was then the obvious choice.

Other advances were that the pub was old and it was therefore easy to learn things about it. He also had been to it for some travels by Floo-powder back when he hadn’t felt at home enough to Apparate. Entering the pub from the Muggle side, he was like always amazed how non-flashy it was. It was Britain’s oldest pub if his sources weren’t lying, but it seemed to do nothing to profit from its reputation. Well, he was not the manager here and he had no intention of creating any further concurrence. He approached the bar where there was a free seat next to a black-haired woman. “You don’t mind?” he said indifferently, sitting down without waiting for an answer. Then he caught sight of the woman’s face, and his eyebrows rose slightly. If he hadn’t just taken her boyfriend’s seat, he saw no reason to regret his choice of sitting down in this place. Smiling far more warmly than he had originally intended, he added, “I’d buy you a drink if it’d help.”

Say, boy, let's not talk too much

outfit

Before running, Sarai had taken some precautions. Sure, she'd left Denka with her parents. She'd taken all the money from her vaults and dropped them off there too, she'd brought her more important belongings to Cho's house, and she had made sure none of her family knew where she was gone. None of that, however, had prevented her eventual capture. It was all Xio's husband's fault, and it took all her power to remind herself of something called sorority in order to not blame her. It was hard, because generally? None of these bitches gave a damn about muggleborns. Not even the halfbloods, for the most part, because they just went about their days as if nothing happened. After if life wasn't over for hundreds and hundred of people. Men, women, children. Elderly. Sarai had always had a temper, and these days it felt like she was constantly on the edge of an explosion. No, she never actually did. She'd stopped doing it after her first few weeks with the guards at Kolna, not only were their punishments sent from hell itself, she always had work the next day. Work was probably worse, really. That was just systematic torture, that was using her body as if it didn't belong to her to test out whatever they wanted. Charms were usually not so bad, potions was the worst. Even worse than curses, because the monster usually cast the counter curse before her departure. Then it was just the echo of torture she was left with. Potions? Unless it was a deadly poison, they never administered an antidote, they just let it wear off alone.

Most days, even though she was boiling with hatred on the inside, she really just wanted to feel normal again. It was a bit better since they got out. On her better days she could see her family. On days in which she wasn't working late or doubled over from the pain, she could do a bit of work on a broom. Sometimes she was experimented on by people trying to make good things, which was still awful to go through, but at least it wasn't painful. If they got things right, of course. She'd left some clothes to her sisters, so when she came back they returned most of it. Most, because she was sure Tara hadn't just lost her Versace handbag. Not that mom wanted to listen. Shit. Anyway, this just meant that she occasionally could pretend that things were normal. She could put on some magical make up on her back to make the deep scars invisible, she could get dressed like she used to, and she could go out for drinks. Sometimes she invited Zoë along, but the other girl tended to be lost in her own business. That was fine, as long as she minded Denka for the night, she didn't actually care too much.

So she went out. She got dressed for a night out because she wanted to go home with someone, even if she had to dash away early in the morning for work. She sat at the bar, she ordered her drink, she finished her drink. Of course, it was the middle of the week, which meant that there weren't many people out and about. That was fine, she didn't care. Getting drunk by herself was fine too, even if it was far too early for that just yet. Still, she'd opened her mouth to call for the bartender when some bloke came and sat beside her. Saying something dismissive and not really caring for an answer. That was just a dick move, but he seemed to catch himself pretty quickly when he got sight of her. Oh, that was not subtle at all. Smirking she tapped her empty glass with a manicured fingernail. "Help what? Taking the seat? Or not stopping to hear my response?" Looking him up and down, she decided he was actually worth her time. Appearance wise. If he could stand a little teasing, then he might actually get her attention properly.

This was not something he would have ever dared to do back home. Go to a place that was not under the control of his family without taking heavy precautions. He might have come to England primarily to help out his cousin, but a little bit of adventurousness had been involved after all. Certainly, compared to Ampi and her siblings, he was far from being a risk-taker even though they had all been in the same house. He liked to foresee any eventualities because there were some advantages to making it through the day alive. But the point right now was that he did feel relatively safe. There was no reason to believe that anybody wanted him dead. Yet. And he’d notice in time if circumstances changed, he’d make sure of this. But until then, he could neglect many of his usual worries. He hadn’t felt so free to move around since he had been at school. Ilvermorny had been safe too. There had been students who belonged to inimical families of course, but the security had been tight enough that they had not had to fear for their lives. Not to forget that Ilvermorny might stop accepting Mexican students if they kept carrying their quarrels into school. They had a truce, all of the warring families, a truce that was maybe as old as Ilvermorny itself — or at least since they all started to go there.

School had been a good time. Far from home, he could ignore for a little while what would come once he had finished school. He didn’t really mind that he had never had any control of his future. His family was more important than he as an individual, so there was no point in wishing for an alternative. None of his siblings had ever shown any sign that they might want something completely different than what the family needed them for — apart from Juan, but that didn’t count because Juan… he was just different. None of them would have come up with the idea of establishing a side branch in England like Amparo was doing. Certainly none of them would have dared to marry a woman their parents didn’t approve of like Salva. He sometimes still found himself shaking his head how anybody could let themselves be ruled by their emotions to such a degree. And yet, he had been very close to excited when Ampi had asked him to come. Heaven forbid, but if ever something should happen to Javier, he would never again be able to leave from home. He hadn’t noticed until he had decided to go to England, but this was an almost stifling idea. He had never been anywhere but at school and home. He wanted to see more of the world, so he was glad for the chance that his cousin had given him.

It was only a matter of time until Amparo would have made enough enemies to have them be as careful as they were back home. In fact, it was only a matter of time until he would be needed at home again. He had to use the little time he was given to be reckless in the most enjoyable way possible. Addressing beautiful girls at bars would not be an option for all too long, so it would be foolish to waste this evening. And the girl next to him was very attractive. “Not minding either, miss. Unless you mind drinks, then I beg your pardon for the unwelcome offer.” He watched her amusedly. It was admittedly not the best of manners to sit down so hastily, but this was not the fanciest bar in the wizarding world either and that he had asked before sitting down was already more manners than could normally found in these places. It made it all the funnier that the girl had decided to take offence. For now. Her smirk was clearly saying that she was ready to forgive him, if he knew anything about body language. And he had had to learn about it quite a bit more than anything in the past.

Sarai wasn't a lonely person. She didn't exactly keep many friends or do relationships, but she had company. She had lovers, she had her family, she had some people she was close to. In general, she wasn't a fan of touchy feely kinds of things. Communicative was something she wasn't, in any sort of way. Sure, she could talk of intimate topics and all that, but she really didn't want to. Didn't feel the need to. She wasn't insensitive, she was just generally not particularly open to most things. Especially now. What good would being more sensitive be, right now? Working as a test subject, being cursed and looked at with disgust and hatred all day. Being stuck with such treatment, day in and day out. For the foreseeable future. As far as she knew, this was how everything would be forever. Until the day she died and then some. She'd heard that there had been muggleborns who'd escaped. From the camp, from the country. That was the dream, really, but she couldn't do that. As one of the muggleborns caught after not registering, they kept more regular tabs on her than some of the others. Plus, she had a dog. She could never leave Denka behind, but it was mighty fucking difficult to go on the run with a pitbull on your heels.

So Sarai was stuck here, closing herself off to the emotional trauma of daily life and recovering as much as possible from the physical damage. One solution for the first would have been to go to a club instead of the Broomsticks and drink herself into a coma. That would've been cool, but clubs were expensive. She had money. Her savings from before. Still, it would be mighty stupid to go on a spending spree. The work as a test subject didn't pay anything at all, which meant that -one- it was slavery and -two- that she had to make sure not to spend too much of her savings on needless things. For emergencies and such. Also, for the eventuality that she did, in fact, end up running away. She wasn't discarding the possibility, she had just meant that the chances were low. If the opportunity arose, though, she would take off. That was damn sure. For now, she would have to just do what she could to stay alive. Easier said than done, but living with Zoë helped. The apartment was far better to live in than Kolna. Not freezing to death or catching some decease certainly did help in the recovery from their long and painful days. Coming home to a hot bath was far better than heading back to a rickety cot with a roof that leaked right into your bed constantly. Zoë herself was of some help. Just having someone there who was also alive and going through the same thing. Hell, if she'd been alone she would've lost her damn mind already. At least she could hear someone else breathing in the room. There were times in which that was all she focussed on. An entire hour, lying there and listening to the other woman breathe.

Tonight, though, was about distraction. About pretending she was herself again. She wasn't in any pain. She didn't have any scars. She had her old job back, her freedom, her independence. She could just sit here, at the bar, looking like a thousand quid, and flirt with some stranger. Get bought a drink. Just like she used to every time she went out. If she ended up going somewhere other than the studio? Well, that was just the cherry on top. "No, I don't mind the drinks." She laughs, a cheeky tug at her lips betraying that she'd been taunting him on purpose. She didn't like men that didn't play along. Didn't like men that took offence to being called out, especially in only a teasing manner. Besides, she really did like being bought drinks. Especially this one, he looked more interesting than the last dozen men that had bought her anything at all. Then again, that was a long time ago. Felt like a century, it did. "What's your name, or will we share our drinks in silence? Mine's Sarai." She rested her chin on her hand, watching him from under her eyelashes.

Distractions were sometimes necessary and there was nothing wrong with them as long as they were not mistaken for anything else. No life could completely centre on work even if one loved their job. And he couldn’t really say that he did in all honesty. He liked it, that yes, because he was doing his duty and that was a good thing to do. He was doing the right thing. He was helping Ampi, who he loved both for being family and especially for having taken care of little Juan when it had seemed like they would find no place to fit him in. She had given him a purpose, she had had use for him. It should make María Letícia all the more ashamed of what she had almost done. He very much wanted to believe that she was sorry. It wouldn’t make her attempted murder undone, but at least he could somewhat respect her. He wouldn’t be able to trust her again like he should as she was his close kin, but at least she’d be a little bit the person again who he had thought she was. There were so few things he could rely on, that his eldest sister, the one who had looked out for them the most when he was little, was not among these things was a wound that would never scar neatly.

Even without María Letícia’s interference, it would have been problematic to find a place for Juanito. But it definitely was her fault that the boy was so traumatized now. And he was apparently supposed to be the one responsible as far as Ampi was concerned. He couldn’t really blame her. She had already done a lot for the boy though nobody would have thought the less of her if she didn’t. But he was the brother. He couldn’t deny this connection like his sister managed to. But it was troubling him — more than the club, more than any of the other business Ampi was conducting. These were matters he could think through, calculate, estimate. He was good at all this. But finding the right words for his little brother, he had no idea how to do that. Tonight he didn’t want to think about this though. Juan was hopefully tucked away neatly in bed (though he should maybe stop to think about him as if he were four), and he was free to not think for a few hours in the company of someone who wouldn’t give him a headache. He wanted to do something that wouldn’t have any repurcussions the next day. This was why he had come here to England too after all — to take himself a few freedoms he wouldn’t have at home — like randomly talking to someone and then not having to figure out whether their families were having any feud. He didn’t have any ties to anybody here. Nobody here would recognize his face and then try to take advantage of him. It was new. It was a little unpredictable. And it would not have any consequences in the long run. What more could he ask for?

The girl had looked very pretty when he had first looked at her, but now that she laughed, his mouth twisted into a smile before he even noticed. This was slightly… discomfiting. He usually didn’t lose control, not even in such little details. But it was not worth worrying he told himself. This was a random girl of who he wanted nothing — at least nothing more than a night if things went well. They would not remember each other the next morning, so it didn’t really matter how he was reacting right now. “Mine’s Martín,” he replied, glad that she had introduced herself only by her surname. He was not going to give away his. “Whatever makes your evening more enjoyable. Sarai.” It was a pretty name. Uncommon. It fitted her. He internally laughed at himself. Putting so much thought in stupid little details. His mind was a bit of an idiot today. “I’m from America-” Speaking of the continent, it was true. That she would hopefully deduce he was from the US (not that she wouldn't have done so anyway because of his accent) was neither his fault nor an unwelcome way of not truly introducing himself. And he would definitely refrain from doing so. This girl’s smirk was far too much distracting him. He’d take care not to ever meet her again after tonight. “-if I can use that as an excuse for my behavior.”

Outfit Link | TAG: @ martin | NOTES: none

    Sarai was going to go ahead and say that she wasn't the most romantic girl around. She just didn't really do dating. Hadn't since Hogwarts and even that short stuff with Thad had ended easily enough when they graduated. She hadn't really seen him since and it didn't bother her at all, they each had gone their separate ways to live their separate lives. Sarai usually just hooked up with people and that was really all that mattered. Before, she'd been busy with learning to make brooms, with getting clients, with racing and training for her racing. What could she possibly want with a relationship? She had other things to do, better things, and she wasn't about to throw her careers away just for some common thing that would most likely not last. She had time to find someone if she really wanted it, later on. If she wanted it, and that was a big if. She'd never been big on emotions, she'd never been good at being comforting or supportive or involved, all things that she would need in case of a long term relationship. So, really, it would've been more trouble than it was worth, back then. Now? Now it was even worse. She was being experimented on almost every day, she was in pain, she was considered a third rate citizen at best and not human at worst. What did she want with a relationship? What good would that do? None, it would just spread more suffering. So no, she wasn't looking for anything other than a fun night. If that. Chances were she'd stay at the bar and get plastered and go home to her dog. Needless to say, she wasn't a very optimistic person.
    This, though? This was promising. At first, the bloke had seemed a bit rude, though really no worse than anybody around here. It was one thing to take a seat in silence without acknowledging the other people -a normal thing- and it was another to acknowledge that person before sitting while actually dismissing their preferences. It had been a weird way of being rude, which she would've not cared about except for the fact that he was pretty hot. So, obviously, she had to poke at it and get his attention. Obviously. He'd reacted beautifully and now she leaned with an elbow on the bar and looked at him. She was thinking that this could turn out to be plenty entertaining, really. The drink alone had made the exchange worth it already, since she wasn't making all that much of her own money at the moment. Anything that helped her spend less money and got her more fun was a good thing, in her book. "Well, Martín, I think silence would be a bit of a mood killer. We're on the right track, here."
    Smirking, she sipped the drink he'd bought her and looked him up and down. From America, he said. She thought it was pretty probable. There were tons of latinos in the States, and if he wasn't from the States then he was close enough to there. Really, all that mattered was that he was from across the pond, right now. His accent pointed this way and that but really, she knew better than to think she could figure out where he was from just from that. She could tell British accents apart perfectly, regional accents and country accents, but anything else really wasn't her area of expertise. In any case, it didn't really matter. "Hah, that would make sense, wouldn't it? People always say Americans are rude, though personally I haven't met enough to consider it a general thing." Offering a shrug, she leaned a tiny bit closer and tilted her head in interest. "What's an American doing over here, then? Sightseeing?"

Say, boy

let's not talk too much

credit to nat of adoxography.

After spending so much time on organizing the club and trying to find the words that his brother most needed to hear, he supposed that he could allow himself some time for something that was not related to his family. He didn’t mind so much being in the club all the time. It was a good basis for Amparo, and they needed to succeed here, so the Opium could not be a failure. If they came back home without establishing themselves firmly, the other families would be triumphant. And this was an idea that he could not stand. He wouldn’t depart from here until Amparo’s position was safe enough. That was the unwelcome side-effect of success. All the other families would want to copy them and, of course, be better. Some might choose other countries, but a few would certainly try to oust Amparo from her position. But until then, time would pass and there was no point in worrying in advance. His brother’s situation was far more urgent, but there it wasn’t even like he could feel as if he were prepared — or at least could prepare himself. He didn’t know how to talk to the boy — didn’t know what he needed to hear. It might even be better if he just let Primo Fernando place the boy with who he thought best. But then he was not all too confident whether his cousin was rational often enough to trust him with deciding who was suited for looking after Juanito. But as he would most likely just try to find an English equivalent to their grandmother, he couldn’t exactly say that he knew better.

Anything was welcome to prevent him from thinking about these problems, and he didn’t complain that his present distraction was as attractive as she was. And harmless. Forming an idea of what kind of person someone was with only a few indicators was a skill that he had needed to acquire. Nobody could act well enough that there would not be something off about them if they were a real danger. And he had decided she wasn’t. He thought that he could sense some exhaustion on her part, which was not that uncommon at the end of a day, but other than that she emanated confidence and strength. It was almost reminiscent of his own family if not that they always had a goal. He didn’t think that Sarai was aiming for anything concrete. She just was. And there was something refreshing about this. “Well, I heard a lot about English understatement,” he said, smirking at her statement. “And I honestly haven’t seen any yet. Nor does everybody need to drink tea at five o’clock. Unless you’re going to tell me that you do.” He did have expected a more stuck-up society. And a government that cared more about the national crime scene. But until now, he couldn’t complain how they had been easily able to steer clear of any attention from the wrong side.

There it was. The question that he would most certainly not answer honestly. She might be just a girl that he would never see again after tonight — and the longer he looked at her, the better that was — but there was no possibility to know who else might cross her path. The less she knew about him the better. “Work actually,” he replied. The truth might be none of the girl’s business, but it was always better to not deviate all too much from reality. Otherwise there might appear holes in a story far too soon. “My company sent me here for a couple of months. It’s a bit of a stress right now, readjusting. So unless you’re really interested a really boring story, I don’t mind if I don’t have to think of work after hours. What do you do for a living?” From how she looked, she might still be at university. At least the answer should give him an idea of how old she was, just in case.

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Outfit Link | TAG: @ martin | WORDS: ###

    Sarai missed the nights out with her sisters. Perhaps she'd talk them into one some time soon, when she had time again and wasn't in too much pain to go out. Those two conditions converging wasn't all that common, but it would be fine. Hopefully. Maybe in a few weeks, but for tonight she was fine with her drink and some company. If that company came in the shape of a good looking American, then all the better. She wasn't looking for anything personal, of course. Never did, normally, and now even less. What could she say? I'm a muggleborn that they hunted like an animal and am currently doing pseudo-slave work in which they use me as a guinea pig? No, mood killer. Sarai didn't want anything that would force her to acknowledge any of that. She was here to forget all those truths and to live a life she had left behind, one that had been taken from her. For the first time in almost a year, Sarai wanted to be herself. Not what these people had turned her into, this wounded, angry, bitter thing. She wanted to be herself, as she knew herself. Anything else was but a warped version of her and she didn't want to indulge that side of her. Not tonight.
    "Nah, I don't do that. You've been lied to, nobody actually has time for that. Not in London at least." Sarai laughed and shook her head, fingers tracing the edge of her glass. She can't ever recall having tea at five or doing any of the things that everyone considered so typical of British society. At least, her parents had always been different, so they hadn't really been a typical family. Starting from Dean being magical and then on, everything had been different in some way or another. Sarai found herself thankful for all of that, because she would've never felt at home with those tea-cosy using white picket fence families. That wasn't her deal and she'd never settle into anything like that. "Don't tell me you folks match up to all your stereotypes?"
    Chuckling, she looked him up and down again. He didn't seem all that stressed, but maybe he was something of a calm person in general. Maybe this was him being stressed, but she couldn't see any tension in his shoulders or bags under his eyes. Well, to each their own. The story made sense, though. Sent over for work, settling down, somewhere new where he had to get used to everything all over again. She wasn't an overly curious person so there really wouldn't be a danger of her nosing into his business, especially since he didn't seem interested in talking about it. Sarai wasn't actually looking for much conversation, but she supposed that this was... fine. Until he asked about her work, that was, because- well, wasn't that a delicate thing nowadays? "Me? I make brooms." That was technically true. She was a broom maker and that was what she'd spent most of her time on before all this went down. That was how she made a living whenever she wasn't racing. The fact that she couldn't exactly spend all her time on that anymore didn't matter. Her hands were sore and her body was sore and she was too tired to usually do anything. But it was fine. It'd be fine. She'd go back to that some day. She still spent some time on it whenever she wasn't feeling completely terrible, even if it would take her months and months to actually finish a broom at this rate. "Nothin' too fancy, but it puts food on the table, y'know? Plus, it's good fun."
    Laughing, she took a sip of her drink.

Words: 624

Say, boy

let's not talk too much

credit to nat of adoxography.