What if nothing

@blaise | outfit

The dress that she had on was the cheapest she owned, but it did the trick. It looked nice, it fit her well, and she was able to keep most of the more questionable work stains from setting completely. She knew that they had the maid, but in Sienna's opinion the girl was barely able to shine the house correctly. Sure, it was nice to have someone that she could test a new curse on, but it was getting a bit annoying to have to occasionally let the mudblood see her useless excuse for a brother. Regardless, the dress was nice enough to wear to work and out, and the few charms placed on it made it look unrumpled regardless. There was one moment where her sister had remarked that she seemed overly put together, and Sienna had kept her lips zipped shut about the charms she liked to use to keep everything in place. It was better when everyone assumed that she was perfect, it worked better for her that way. Sienna liked to keep everything about herself on the quiet side, she liked to have a perfectly cultivated image... Especially with her sister's marriage coming up in five days and her father's slow health descent. She had to make sure that she looked perfect, she had to make sure that everyone thought she was doing great... She assumed that Blaise felt the same. She wanted to make sure that they looked like the perfect little pureblood couple. 

Which they were, really. She thought that they managed to prove themselves with three sons, they had Amelia likely in the running for Head Girl next year... There was Athazaz, but he was nothing to her, barely more than a pest. That was before they married, though, so it wasn't like she had to cover up anything that the boy did. It was annoying that he was there, though. But Blaise would do anything to make up for that, she felt. They had three more legitimate boys, three amazing devils that she could place before anything. They were making smart choices, they were doing well in life... She knew that their grandmother was likely proud, as well. There was no reason that she shouldn't be; Sienna was making sure that everything was going well. She wasn't as meticulous as some people were... She knew that the Senior Undersecretary was very, very specific, she had met her before. Sienna wasn't quite like that, she was different. She paid attention to her image because it was important and fun, not because she had something strange to hide. She liked to be popular in the world, she liked the place that she had gotten to- both by marriage and hard work. Sienna was excited for her sister's wedding, thrilled to be able to see Flora and Hestia again, and certainly excited to see what was going to happen. Those parties didn't just get thrown, they were thrown. 

She had stopped at Rosa Lee for a bit and had invited Blaise to come grab a snack with her; it was always more fun for them to be seen in public. Sure, they had to seem a bit more loving than they really were, but it was a fun little game. And Rosa Lee had the most delicious scones. She had ordered them four to split and was waiting with her coffee for him to arrive, staring at the little peons scooting all over the establishment. One was wearing a dress that barely covered her ass- and hadn't bothered with any charms. She resisted the urge to snort as she sat and waited... And reminded herself to send an owl to little Amelia to inform her not to wear anything that low cut and skimpy. She didn't think that the girl would, but she wanted to make sure that she had everything in order.

Work was simple, especially work under the hands of the capable Lady Bulstrode. Blaise had always liked things going smoothly, had also enjoyed when things spun with barely a guiding touch needed. Between the two of them, his mother and wife had that with the household, competent as they were. His mother had done the same when he was younger, cycling through stepfathers with ease, hands neat, clean, and bloodless.

With his wife, there was some more blood-- but it was accepted, approved, enjoyed. It was quite lovely to see her experimenting with her spells, especially on whatever might be in handy-- sometimes the Mudblood in the house, sometimes the Mudbloods in the Ministry graciously provided. For blood and understanding, they paid in image and satisfaction-- it was a game Blaise knew and played for years. When all was restored and those in power expected the benefited to flaunt it. . . well, how could they refuse, really?

As he entered to the Rosa Lee Teabag-- small place, cheaper, plebeian so that purebloods could be noticed-- he caught the familiar gleam of his lady wife's hair. It was easy, then, to make his way to her, and sit across from her. "Anything interesting in work that might be shown at home, my dear?"

Sometimes, Sienna wondered if it would just be easier to follow in her mother-in-law's footsteps and off her husband, but she was often reminded of the few reasons that she wanted him to stay. It had nothing to do with their lack of daughter- that was all on her, that was a problem she had, an issue that had caused her to feel somewhat maternal towards Amelia (and she often denied it if anyone accused her of having emotions towards the bastard girl). But Blaise had become something of a precious accessory, something that she liked to tote around and show off to the other witches. She couldn't quite trade up, either, like her mother-in-law had; she wasn't quite as talented as the witch was. She could easily off him, she could get all of the money and rule quite easily through their eldest son. But she tolerated him, and she knew that her heart would actually miss his overly anal tendencies. Besides, where else would she gather up a husband who would be so generous with a clothing allowance? So she kept Blaise around out of fondness, not out of anything else, and she got along grandly with her mother-in-law, often trading secrets and little tidbits of community gossip.

They interacted more than Sienna did with her own family, if she was being honest. Now that she had struck out on her own she had started to see how much of a pest her sister was, and while she fully admitted that she was, in fact, a spoiled little wife, she was well-aware that she had pushed herself farther than most witches. She could have placed herself into a minor role in some newspaper, but she hadn't. She had propelled her academic career and pursued something that interested her, and she was doing well for herself. If anything, she was keeping herself out of boredom. A bored Sienna often turned into something more vindictive than her normal personality.

Sienna smiled at the familiar scent when Blaise swept into the shop, her eyes lighting up a tad when he sat down and immediately began asking about work. She was sure she wouldn't get that, elsewhere- there was no doubt in her mind that such things were below the other pureblood men's focus. She had done well for herself, really. "I've been working on a new curse," she remarked simply, offering him one of the scones and picking up another. "One to pull the entrails out of the victim's stomach. Up the throat, of course." She let out a lofty sigh, shaking her head. "It's not like I can bring that home, though. We do need the little pest, and it is more of a side project."

A pity. There was nothing that the Mudblood was better at than being consequated. They would have sent it back-- but it was amusing, and the hope and fear that was sometimes visible when it caught one of them watching was entertaining. Blaise did so like to watch.

He took the scone, giving a half-examination to judge the flavor. There was no doubting the worthiness of it-- after all, Sienna had picked it. Satisfied, he ate a corner. "I'm sure the Mudblood wouldn't mind taking care of remains, if you would wish to use it at home," he responded. What the Mudblood failed at, the elfs would clean. In one of the lower basements, perhaps-- or perhaps Sienna's workspace might be enlarged, if she so wished.

There were several of his father's antiques he wished to test out, some that his mother had mentioned were likely cursed. Manzil Zabini had not needed to be searched when Blaise was in school, and so they had been able to be hidden carefully away. The boys and elves knew better than to go near them, and what better way to test them than on a dying Mudblood in pain. He did rather like Sienna's creativity-- the spell she was working on would, in potion form, need to be tripled-layered, and hypothetically, the spell would be the same, if not more.

"Only specifically the entrails, my dear?" If so, it would be rather amusing to give a few off-centre casts of it to see the reactions. No doubt Sienna accounted for that, but he ratehr liked to hear the results from the mouth of the inventor, rather than educated hypotheses.

The mudblood wasn't as good as their house elves, but she was amusing because she didn't really know how to act around them. At first, she had broke things. She tried to upset them, to anger them, to annoy them. Sienna didn't let that get to her; the stuff that she had attempted to ruin was easily fixed with a simple spell, after all. The silly chit was just unable to do anything, really. She really just attempted to send her to the parts of the manor that were hardest to clean by hand. It was easier, that way; the elves could manage the rest of the duties, and the silly girl could do what she could with the horrid wand and the inability to clean just about everything. Sienna always made sure that the boys knew how to deal with her, too, if she got too close or too annoying. 

They were good at minding the mudblood. She never worried about them having a problem with her, especially since she didn't have anywhere else to go. Currently, Sienna's favorite thing to do was to request the thing's brother just so she could torment both of them. "That will certainly keep her in line," Sienna said, her lips pulling into a smile. She could definitely see that working, and that was an excellent way to get Blaise to expand her workshop. Blood always was a motivator, wasn't it?

"It's a refined cutting curse," she murmured, nodding her head. Sienna took a small bite of a scone, inclining her head. "It gravitates towards the intestines no matter where it's aimed. It took quite a bit of work to get it that way."

He inclined his head. "It rather reminds me of the older, more localized spells, with the focus on purely one part of the body. If cast by a weaker mage, does it turn on the wielder, work roughly halfway, or is it simply ineffective?" That, he did rather hope was more the work of a Mudblood, though to have one keep the false wand. . perhaps on one they despised. . .

Mudblood solidarity, perhaps, would win out for the filth. It was interesting to see how they might turn upon each other-- he'd rather like to observe. They'd half-torn themselves apart during Durant, with their little multi-sided opinions on halfbreeds.

"If not the first, we can always have Kamil practice it, or Laurentin, even. One of the elves rumored that she's slower to answer our heirs. It ought to be known that while adults are prioritized, our sons, if giving an order are to be obeyed as she does us."