[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/c9XrfLn.png[/img] [img]http://media.tumblr.com/563765d4afb17e34ab7020696807f1db/tumblr_inline_mg17efkphA1rzfh4y.gif[/img] [/center] [hr] [i]August 26th, 2015[/i] [color=gray]“Mom,” the voice resonated against the concrete of the alleyway. “You promised we wouldn’t be late this year.” “Cass, it was unplanned but when the minister of…” She was cut off in a moment, “it’s always someone, Mom, a Prince, the Minister, whatever.” Cassandre pouted a bit as they walked down the dingy alley where she could see the light as it opened into the city. Nobody seemed to pay them any mind as they rushed off to work or school or from one place to another. People always seemed to be doing that, rushing to and fro. And Cassandre was no different, picking up pace. “I was supposed to be picked up three days ago, you know I like seeing everyone before school starts.” It hardly mattered, though, what was done was done even though this wasn’t the best way to start her year. She shouldn’t have expected anything else, though. It was like this all the time. Her mother’s career, Cassandre taking a back seat to it. Sure, the travel was fun, the new places, new people. But she wanted some stability, a place to anchor her like when she spent time with her father. That had its own set of issues but the trip into the city didn’t usually take too long. Then they arrived, only a couple minutes ahead of schedule and sat in an uncomfortable silence. The warm wind off the sea brought the crisp smell of salt, a few pigeons flew above keeping a healthy distance from Agatha. For her part she just walked dutifully next to Cassandre immune to the mother/daughter drama that played out above. The older of the two had the typical blonde hair showing off her extensive Veela heritage on both sides of her family. She was poised and beautiful in a stunning pant suit. Unlike her mother, Cassandre didn’t have the blonde hair. That isn’t to say that she shouldn’t, but long ago she’d decided to find that middle point between her parents. To represent her Mohawk heritage as well as her French and Veela. Both were compelling, both had people looking at them as they walked by, often taking more than was socially acceptable. Both had the same look in their eyes. Pain. Not physical, not even purely emotional. It was this sort of existential distress that happened every time Cassandre went to school. That feeling that they both knew they loved each other but were far too different to express it. That feeling of relief knowing that they could go back to their respective lives. Maybe, some day, they would find a balance. Once it wasn’t the relationship between a mother and the daughter she was expected to care for but was one between adults. Today was not that day. As the heard the car and a few other students waiting in this small state capital came into vision. All younger it seemed, and most she didn’t recognize at all. Her eyes damp, blurred from the pseudo tears. Hugging her mother tight they both said “Sorry, I love you,” almost in unison. It was a practiced ritual, one they had done a dozen times before. Both of them with wet eyes, with the words. They meant it, every word, but it also felt like they had to say it to remind themselves more than each other. It was such a different goodbye than her father’s. That was all smiles and hugs. She was definitely Daddy’s girl. All packed up in the hotel, the luggage followed along as she crawled in. She didn’t head to a room, she was still emotional and would only end up crying into a pillow. She needed to find her friends. Wearing tight black jeans, black stompy boots, a Social DIstortions tee and a puffy vest with some fake fur fringe at top. She wore little makeup, but didn’t really seem to need it. Not that there weren’t times she went all out, but now she was very much dressed down. Spikey earrings including bars had been status quo when she was in punk garb, but the nose and lip piercings were new for this year. Her eyes lit up through the salty watery glare and Cassandre wiped off her tears. Agatha followed, jumping up on the stool next to Emily once she saw they were talking. Then came the squee, and the rush over to hug them both. “Hey.” She also managed to wave and smile at Hestia but didn’t want to disturb.[/color]