only happy hysterical [cass]

damned as he seems

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and more heaven than a heart could hold[/size][/center]

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Since she'd changed her lifestyle completely, the Hastings manor had started to block out what her old house used to look like. Belle could scarcely remember the layout of the small, brightly lit rooms, their image instead replaced by large, dark rooms with expensive furnishings. Much as she couldn't completely say she was comfortable here, it was the closest thing to a home outside of Hogwarts she had. No one reasonable could complain about the standard of living; the estate was impressive. The grounds were vast and well-kept, the house itself was unlike anything she had ever imagined. Even as an unpaid servant she was well-fed and slept in a down bed. It seemed as if no one lived below the standard here. Her room was small and got cold during the winter, but she spent most of the winter months at Hogwarts, so it didn't much matter.

When she'd been younger, honestly she'd been somewhat useless. The past couple of years she hadn't spent quite as much time here, however now that she was an adult in the wizarding world, she was completely under the rule of Mr. Hastings. She cleaned, she cooked, and she gardened. It was nothing too difficult, however, like all chores, it was tedious. When she had first arrived it had been exciting once she overcame the fear: every room seemed to be newer and bigger and more elaborately furbished than the last. Now, Belle found that she mostly just dismayed over how dark everything was. The windows were large but the blinds were always drawn, and frankly, the atmosphere was grim because of it.

Of all of the rooms in the house, the drawing room was the grandest. An unplanned piano, leather couches, and bookshelves filled with trinkets, awards, and swords instead of books were the principle pieces. Generally, this was where Mr. Hastings brought his guests, when he had any, and Belle was constantly forced to keep it as clean as possible. Carefully, she balanced herself on the top of the ladder, trying to get to the furthest corner of the shelf where his great-great-great-grandfather's sword was hanging. Frustration overcame her as she realized that in this light she couldn't even properly tell whether that corner needed dusting. Mr. Hastings was nowhere to be found, probably up in his room doing whatever it was rich people do, and Belle resolved that she would fall into depression if she was left in this dismal place anymore. Of course, she owed it to her father to stay here… they'd made a deal.

Instead of running away, a thought she'd entertained many times, she rolled the ladder over towards one of the great windows in the room. With the master nowhere near she figured she could probably sneak a bit of sunshine into the room. And even if he was here. she thought defiantly He could use a little light in his life. She reached over, grabbing a handful of the green and black fabric. Maybe he never drew the drapes because they were so damn heavy. She pulled in frustration at the one and not without effort, got it to draw back to the side. As the light cascaded into the room she thought a bit about Mr. Hastings. He was impossible, wasn't he? Really, of all the people she had ever met, he was the angriest, darkest, and loneliest soul she knew. She wondered if his solitude made him bitter or if it was his upbringing. His family, she had heard, were even more fearsome than he. Pensively, she used her duster to clear off the curtain's bar: an object dustier, and clearly in less use, than anything else in the manor. Sometimes, Belle wondered if the master of this place was actually as horrible as he put out. She wondered if anyone could truly be evil, and if that could be helped.

[/size]

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( TAGS ) Cassio Hastings
( WORDS ) 649
( OUTFIT ) belle's outfit
( LYRICS ) Beautiful Disaster by Kelly Clarkson
( CREDITS ) Lacey. Me. I did this.
( NOTES ) And so it begins. Sorry, I'm all over the place in this.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and as he lowered his head, pushing his fingers into his temples to somehow push this headache out of his mind. It was enough the had to deal with these fools in his department, at a job he didn't particularly enjoy but he was doing what he was supposed to do. His purpose in this life, the eldest of three boys to carry on the family name, in a pure-blood line and live a respectable life and have a respectable job of some importance. But, he despised all these politics and this level was nothing but that and he just sat at his desk, avoided people, filed reports and then went home. Cassio ran his fingers through his wavy hair, the only feature about him that seemed to have it's own control, other than that his life was pretty well put together and he needed to have it a certain way, his way and in his control or it just wasn't going to work for him. Standing up he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair, inspected it for wrinkles and slipped it over his white shirt and black tie. A simple attire and nothing less of what he would have usually worn to work or even most of the time. Casual Fridays did not exist in his world, you had an image to present and this was his. Ensuring that his desk was neat and everything had been put away, he slipped his wand in the pocket inside of his jacket, buttoned up the buttons and slipped his hands in his pockets as he walked out of the office and where he could safely apparate home.

Home, it didn't quite feel like one but it was a place for him to go and hide essentially from the world. His only companion, though hardly a friend at all, was that girl. It was almost disgusting to have her around, the only person there was a person who wasn't even pure of blood and therefore in his mind so undeserving of her magical abilities. Still, she kept the house together and hadn't done anything to really make him angry. However, this headache was still throbbing and he slipped his wand back out from it's place and a loud crack was heard as he left the Ministry and arrived inside his large house. Cassio wasn't sure if it was the work day that had given him such pain in his head or what else it might have been, but it was infuriating to say the least. It was hardly a friendly place and he was the only person that could apparate inside it's walls. It as quiet and it was dark, most of the windows were kept closed and the front door rarely opened for the guests h rarely allowed over. To described Cassio Hastings as friendly would be like saying the sky was naturally green. It wasn't a trait he had been raised with, his housewhold had been filled with more a sense of duty than love, especially between his parents. He paused, listening to the sound of his lonely estate, which reminded him-where was she? It crossed his mind that the girl was supposed to be tending to her duties, last he had checked it was not a school day and there was always somethign to be done despite the lack of activity here.

Walking around slowly he passed the kitchens and the dining room, walking slowly and patiently, his head still throbbing. Not but a few times he had caught her off guard, nose in a book in his Library instead of tending to the house and of course he had flown off the handle. It was not more than a minor infraction but it irritated him, why wouldn't people just do what they were told? It wasn't that difficult and he wondered if her impure blood affected her intelligence or something. Still, he remembered the books she had chosen from his collection, a collection that he had himself read many of the volumes of, she had chosen some interesting ones and a few of his favorites, not that she would know. The next room, the drawing room where he brought any guests over if they ever did come over and he often spent time here for the vastness of the room was inviting and comforting to him, rather than his own personal study however he did enjoy that as well. Standing in the doorway he found her, she was cleaning, so he wouldn't fret over that. However, there was more light in here than he had been used to, the ray's fell into the spaces and in the light you could see the specks of dust floating in the air. How many times? How many times did he have to repeat himself? It was not that difficult to follow his instructions. Even with the throbbing in his head and at this point he felt his fingers tighten and curl into fists and his heart rate slowly increase. It was not easy to keep him calm, and his jaw clenched making his neck stiff and his head hurt even more.

How many times do I have to tell you to leave those closed? It may be one thing to clean them, but she had them open, just open. She may not understand why he had things the way that he did but it might have been read as a reflection of himself: closed off and dark. If there ever was a demon in this world incarnated it might have been Cassio Hastings, the only man colder than himself was his father and that was a saying a lot in itself. Cassio walked slowly toward the ladder that she stood upon, waiting for her to get down so they could tend to this matter.

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lyrics: No Light, No Light - Florence and The Machine
words: 984
notes: yours was fine ^.^ , sorry if mine is too long I didn't realize I wrote that much.

damned as he seems

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and more heaven than a heart could hold[/size][/center]

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There was a good part of her that standing atop a ladder in a dimly lit room, breathing dust and feeling incredibly lonely with no good company, desperately wanted to go home. She yearned for the simplicity of the poor but content life she had lived with her father. Frankly, she thought that though poor, their lives had been more fulfilling than Cassio Hastings' life would ever be. They at least had been able to know the important things, like family, friendship, and love. Somedays when things were particularly grim here, she would imagine packing her things and storming out the door defiantly. In novels, the heroines did crazy things like that all the time: they had no issue asserting themselves and being brave. Belle, however, was not the courageous characters of her books: she was a poor farm girl who needed to pay off a debt.

Those fantasies were nothing but fantasies. This whole existence of hers, when she wasn't occupying herself with the task of finishing up her schooling, was devoted to not annoying the eldest Hastings brother. Despite the concept of that task not being too difficult, she had thus far proven herself to be not-so-good at it. See, as a person who was naturally a dreamer and an abstract thinker, dusting off books usually resulted in reading rather than cleaning. If that Hastings man hated anything, it was when she was off task. Something as little as taking her lunch break early, or being caught in the wrong room at the wrong time could send him into a rage. These explosions of anger were what had really caused her to keep her distance from him. As a matter of fact, they had lead her to a certain degree of loathing. Sometimes she wondered if he were even a man at all, he seemed to be more of a monster in her eyes.

He didn't matter right now. It was a Friday and he was at work, leaving her with the ability, for once, to enjoy the seeing some light in this place. With one of the unreasonably heavy drapes drawn, she admired the way light hit the dark furniture and how it reflected off of the tile floors. A little light she mused, could transform an entire room. The Hastings manor was nothing short of as intimidating as its master. The whole place was made up to be more of a prison than a home. It was dark, secluded and shut off from anyone who might think of entering it. In every which way it contrasted what Belle pictured in a home. First, she'd never imagined that a home would be dark and cold. The windows ought to be open, the ceiling needn't be twenty feet tall, and the furniture should be for comfort rather than for show. Merlin, she hated the house nearly as much as the man. There were, however, times like now when the light hit the building right and she could really see it for what it was worth.

Upon seeing how much she preferred to work in a lit room, she resolved to pull that other drape open if it was the last thing she ever did. Then again, when she heard the heavy thud of unimpressed footsteps she winced, knowing that it might just be the last thing she ever did. Before he'd even spoken she knew who was behind her. The one or two house elves mostly kept to themselves, and even they disdained her blood status enough to avoid her. Cassio Hastings was the only possible candidate. She could just picture him standing below her, colour rising to his face as he attempted to compose himself enough not to hex her down. She set her mouth in a tight line, knowing that she would be rebuked for "misbehaving".

Something crazy happened as he spoke. That desire to rebel against him just sort of rose up in her, "A little light won't kill you."

[/color] she replied defiantly, tapping her black heeled shoe. She reached towards the drape that remained closed and tugged at it, trying to pull it open to. If she had to live here, she didn't know why she couldn't at least work in peace. "I can hardly see what I'm doing, it's so dark in here." She tried her hardest not whine. Mr. Hastings hated whining, and she knew that she didn't need to give him another reason to hate her: her blood status was enough. Usually, she was fairly timid and well-behaved, however on occasion that fire within her would flare up and… well, she would get herself into trouble.[/justify][/blockquote][/size]

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( TAGS ) Cassio Hastings
( WORDS ) 775
( OUTFIT ) belle's outfit
( LYRICS ) Beautiful Disaster by Kelly Clarkson
( CREDITS ) Lacey. Me. I did this.
( NOTES ) This is a bit all over the place… and uh oh, Belle's in trouble now.

In retrospect Cassio couldn't imagine what would have driven a father to justify anywhere in his mind to give up his only child and daughter to such a cause. Then again, in his type of family children were merely pawns being married off and created to carry the family name. In his case he was one of three boys that would carry the Hastings name until they were no more and soon they would be all married off to other Pure-blood families in order to keep the blood pure and all the views just the same. It was sad in his eyes, and why he would have even bothered to take pity on such souls if not for his youngest brother. It was one thing he felt extremely lucky to have been born into extreme wealth and status that he only had to work to keep his own image and not that of his family. They will do what they please but he knew he had to keep his brothers in line and he did often enough for them to know better than to cross their dear older brother. Everyone knew better than to cross Cassio or fear of being on the receiving end of that wrath. Just as he had expressed to Sar previously, he envied the patience the man had especially with the usually dimwitted Hogwarts students for he would have snapped already. Emotions were for the weak because that gave you the illusion of control when you had none and he liked to have a good grip on his life and run it with an iron fist.

Why Belle hadn't bothered to run away yet was merely an example in his own mind that he had control and that she would do as she was told until he decided to let her go or she graduated. However, he wondered what the girl would tell him upon her graduation. THe fine print was still up to him and he could intimidate them into whatever position he wanted. There was never a moment in their short history that he had ever laid a hand on her or used magic against her at least in the Dark Arts sense. Violence against women was rare even for Cassio Hastings and he had decided long ago that only the scum of the earth resorted to that type of violence, however if one was dealing with Bellatrix Lestrange the situation was completely different but in his mind a woman like that was rare and hopefully a myth for the future. Cassio closed his eyes for a moment, the light was terrible for the state of his head and he could only do anything but calm down as his servant spoke up and back at him. Feeling brave were we? Opening his eyes he glared straight at the only person in the room. Clearly you haven't thought about what it might cost you. Cassio took a few steps forward and grabbed the bottom of the curtains to stop them from moving anything further. Stupid girl.... He muttered. Suddenly she had a mind of her own and felt like she had a place to speak. That was not how things ran in his house nor had they ever, whomever was here was invited and he could do much worse things than make her clean. Motioning for her to get down from the ladder and not so far away from him he clenched his jaw further, deciding against throwing the rare vase his mother had gifted this room last Christmas.

Your father never did teach you how to listen, did he? Then again I can't say i'm surprised he did let his daughter become a simple slave girl which is almost as bad as being everything less than a pure-blood. She knew better than to run her mouth and he would let her know it. Somehow berating people calmed him versus throwing things at them, but the latter was much more satisfying. Did the post arrive? He was expecting some news from his father. Pacing around he inspected the around immediately around him, if she was meandering around at this pace he couldn't expect anything else to have been done around the house and she knew better to think that he wouldn't notice. Lazy half-bloods, it seemed that those of the purest of blood were the only few with some intelligence left.

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lyrics: no light, no light - florence and the machine
words: 746
notes:
credit: to vanessa!

damned as he seems

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and more heaven than a heart could hold[/size][/center]

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Sometimes Belle really hated working in this damned place. It wasn't that her only companions were house elves: truly, the elves were far better company than their master. As a matter of fact, the general consensus was that the problem with being employed at the Hastings manor was the man who owned the place. This was the man who flew into a rage over the smallest things and who demeaned everyone working for him. Somedays, Belle wished she could take off and go back to her father. She wouldn't miss the grounds; they were empty and seemed dark even when it was sunny. The big, expensively furbished rooms were a pain in her side and she longed for the day when she would be free of them. The only thing she might miss was the library. For all of the faults she could find in the house, she did quite like the library. Mr. Hastings, however, had banned her from dusting it seeing as her dusting usually turned into reading. At Hogwarts, a ready mind was rewarded. Mr. Hastings didn't quite seem to see things that way, and the only room she truly admired had been taken away from her.

Although he could be rude, and cruel, and his temper could be explosive, he had never once actually hit her, and she supposed that was better than some servant girls. If he ever laid a hand on her, she wondered what she would do. Would she really go back to her father? Would she really risk letting him suffer whatever wrath the Hastings family was capable of? She liked to think that she would hex his ears off. The thought of hitting him with a good hex made her smile a little bit. She'd sometimes imagined transfiguring him into a ferret on the day of her graduation. Her graduation was not that far off now. She was nearly done playing maid, and she sort of wondered how things could possibly go back to normal after that. Would be even let her go?

Honestly, Cassio Hastings seemed to do nothing better than complain. Though she wasn't allowed to whine under his roof, a little bit of sunlight was enough to make him irritable as a bear. "I'm just looking out for you." she smirked playfully, "You'd be vitamin D deficient if I never let any light in here." He apparated in and out of the mansion and as far as Belle knew, he never saw the light of day at work. Though she very much would have liked to draw open the other curtain in rebellion, she resentfully pulled it closed, plunging the room back into darkness. In an alternate universe where she'd had any kind of backbone, she would have stayed perched on top of the ladder, but instead she descended gracefully, though, albeit, she was rather put out about having to use her night vision all the time. She decided against responding to his "stupid girl," comment. Instead, she pretended not to hear it and smoothed her dress.

He paced the room, looking over all of the things she had already cleaned. She stifled an exasperated sigh: he did this every day. Though Belle didn't like to brag, she was a good housekeeper, and she did everything that was asked of her. When he asked her to clean the kitchen, she cleaned the kitchen. When he asked her to serve drinks to his dinner guests, she would serve them drinks. Despite all of the good things she did, he insisted on critiquing her work and never believing that it had been done properly. "If you think I'm so useless, why don't you get a roomba?"

[/color] She knew exactly why he'd never get a roomba; the only thing he hated more than muggleborns were muggles. He'd never have any of their work in his manor.

Mr. Hastings was in a foul mood, she could tell by his rigid posture. She took a determined step towards him only to have him go off on her. Of course, it wasn't unusual for him to berate her, however, this time, he had decided to critique her father. "Don't talk about my father that way."[/color] she snapped. Belle seldom got angry, but denounce her family was too far. "I told him that I wanted to come. I didn't want you to hurt him."[/color] she was shaking. Never before had she reacted that violently to anything he'd said. Suddenly, her emotions died down and she realized what she had said and how much trouble she'd be in. She bowed her head, "I- I'm sorry."[/color] she stuttered. "I put the post on the counter, just as you asked."[/color].[/justify][/blockquote][/size]

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( TAGS ) Cassio Hastings
( WORDS ) 782
( OUTFIT ) belle's outfit
( LYRICS ) Beautiful Disaster by Kelly Clarkson
( CREDITS ) Lacey. Me. I did this.
( NOTES ) My writing always seems to be all over the place with her. Anyway, now she's sassing back.