Cassandra hated cases that were large enough to garner the attention of the Ministry; all of the courtrooms were cold, dark, damp, and always looked like they haven’t been touched in years. ‘Honestly.’ she thought, ‘It’s the 21st century. Stop using torches.’ By the time her case had been dismissed on a recess, she felt like a frozen Popsicle.

“Ms. Seymour! Can you tell us anything further about the case? Which way do you think the jury is leaning at this point in time?” Cassandra was heckled by a young reporter immediately after leaving the courtroom, most likely new to the job and hanging around the courtrooms for literally anything they could write about and classify as ‘news’. Anything that came through the Ministry doors these days could be churned into something to slap on a newspaper page – it seemed like there was at least one reporter in every hallway at all times, just waiting to catch the right person or listen in on just the right conversation. Between the epidemic, the muggleborn registration, the lift of the muggleborn registration….there was a lot happening.

But this reporter, it seemed, did not accept her polite smile and dismissive wave as an answer. She quickened her pace to try and drive the point home, or to lose them, whichever came first. She let the sound of her heels on the hard floor drown out the sound of anyone calling after her. Needing to find a spot to hide out for a bit, and possibly find a sweater, she slipped through an unlocked door into an office that she thought  to be empty.

Pushing the door closed with a quiet click, she released a sigh of relief as she heard the callings of “Ms. Seymour! ...Ms. Seymour…?” pass by the door and then get quieter as they walked away. She didn’t realize the office was in fact not empty until she turned around to see that she had quite obviously interrupted a meeting of some sort. “My apologies…I…well…I’m hiding to be quite honest. Let’s not call it hiding, actually. Avoiding. I’m avoiding. I didn’t think anyone was using this office….”'Way to go, Cassandra. You idiot.

lost in the thrill of it all

367 words // @duke // Click for Outfit!

☀

Until the Ashes of Eden fall

Are you with me through it all Then why can't I feel you Stay with me, don't let me go Because there's nothing left at all

None of this was easy. From the day that he had talked to Winnie Winona he had been struggling. He had fought hard to make it through the tour and not start drinking. Everything in him, everything in who he was wanted him to just drink and shag away the pain that he was feeling. The betrayal that he was feeling, but he knew that he had no right to do so. There was no reason for him to try and lay claim to what he had ended and that was fine. Sab was right about a lot more than he ever gave her credit for, and he was finding that though they were horrible together, they were pretty great at being friends. He could count on her for a lot more than he gave her credit for, and it was nice to feel like he wasn't being controlled. He was the master of his own fate and not the pawn of his mother's game.

He was a better musician than his father was but she wanted WS2 to be just like the original. A similar sound, similar look, and even kids of the original band. He wasn't about that life, and for too long he had allowed her to think that she could just run the show. This was his life and though WS2 was broken up now, they had a new chance, a new life. He didn't have to be his father, he didn't have to stand behind the man for the rest of his life and compare who was better. Everything about his life was something that his mother had picked until that point. From his clothes to his house, even his girlfriend had been because of his mother and it had been too much.

Her pushing him to propose had made him get the ring but seeing that had put him into a panic. He was not ready for that. Not yet. Things with Sabine had wrong and they had been rushed and in the end, it had been a mess that they were right to get out of. She was right to get out of. They were not suited for each other, and no matter what he had thought on the matter at the time, he knew that it was best that she had done what she had done. He had grown since then, changed. If he had not he would never have fired his mother. He never would have had a talk with the band about breaking up.

Everything he was doing was a choice to listen to someone else, but Sabine wasn't ordering. She was giving him suggestions. His mother had chosen the house for him in the hopes that he would settle down, literally, and become Lord. Start a family, and grow the name. he wasn't about that though. It wasn't the life that he wanted to live. He didn't want any of that. It wasn't his place, it had been Uncle Peter's, and that was long since changed. The man was dead, he was never coming back it wasn't a bad thing. So what was he doing? Selling his house and moving into a flat in Croyden. It wasn't much but it was small and in a good neighborhood and perfect for rebuilding himself. Perfect for the things that he needed to do, and there was room for growth.

He had an appointment with a therapist in private practice but there was something that he had to do first. Stupid paperwork. He wished Sab could handle this crap, but it was not her place. it was not what she was supposed to do, so he just had to go and do it. So he found himself in the ministry heading to the courtrooms, looking for his lawyer. It had not taken him long to find the older male, and he had signed the papers he needed to quickly in a quiet meeting room off of the courtrooms when someone came into the room and looked to his lawyer with a nod, dismissing the man.

"Not a problem at all, Ms. Seymour." The elder man said before leaving the office and Tib laughed softly. "No need to apologize. Reporters can be absolute beasts at times, but there is another door back here that leads out to the main hall near the lifts." He said before motioning for her to follow him. He put his ear to the door to see if he heard anyone before laughing and winking and opening the door and stepping out into the wall, holding his arm for her to take, politely.

tag:Cassandra Seymour words:777 template by eliza @ tb & thq