[Leadenhall Market] L'Insoutenable Légèreté de l'être [open]

It was chilly outside. Peter Alva approved of such weather. It gave him energy, made him feel confident and at ease. As soon as the first cold snap came, he felt as though he was being restored from a long and draining summer. Now, he could feel his magic replenishing, bringing with it minty freshness and passion of deep purple.

His heavy, purple robes were rather inappropriate for the venue, but he didn’t mind the curious looks he got from a few oft he muggle folk around.

„Yes I’m an actor. How can you tell? Oh, I’m in costume? Playing the priest.“

The words came easily, well rehearsed as if said before a thousand times. Peter Alva had long since discovered that the Statute of Secrecy was rather flexible. All it needed was a good explanation and all trouble and confusion with muggles went away and dissipated into nothingness.

Of course a witch or wizard would have been easily able to tell that the carve rune beads of his necklace were truly magical and that the pocket watch in his hand was not just that but also a portkey, carefully calibrated to activate only at certain times. 

Leadenhall with its Victorian buildings, quaint cafés and varied crowd was one of his favourite places. It had an air of times past, but remained vibrant and current. It was as close to time travel as one could get without the use of magic – a busy market in a historical setting where some traditions stayed the same despite of the times. It was a place that matched him, as Peter Alva could be just the same, current and oldfashioned all rolled into one.

After purchasing  some groceries he took a seat in one of the small muggle cafés ordering a hot chocolate. He would have to wait for it too cool before touching it, but he had time. Absentmindedly, he stared at the passersby making up stories in his mind as to who they were.

How was it that he didn’t even notice that it was snowing from the palm of his hand right into his cup. Diversions, they had too much power over him.

Xandra detested the days she had to restock her food storage, she didn't understand where all the food went. The busy markets, rushing people and general rudeness irked her to no end. Reluctantly she Bundled up in her favorite oversized sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants and left her apartment. Usually she bought enough food to last for the whole month, some of it completely unhealthy yet her she was buying food yet again.

Perhaps it was because she rarely bought food that could be made into a decent meal. She prefered the easy junk; sandwiches, various breakfast related foods and fruit. Unfortunately she realized that she needed to buy actual food if she wanted it to last more than two weeks.

She might have not been the best cook in the world but she knew how to make the basic. Having actually remembered her list this time she managed to get mostly healthy foods. She was no strangers to vegetables and or meats, she just preferred the easier route when it came to food. She was glad her mother wasn't the type to make unexpected visit just to criticize her food choices.

Finally, having enough to last for a while she decided to get a cup of coffee and head home. As she turned around to leave with her coffee she nearly groaned at the site she caught. Walking over to the man she placed a small smile on her face and tapped im lightly on the shoulder.

"You know in some cultures, strange phenomenons like producing snow in the palm of your hands would've had you burned at the stake."

She shifted her bags and sat the empty seat as she looked around. She wasn't sure how many people had saw what she had, if any. She debated on whether she should sit down or not, but she figured he'd just nodded his head at the warning and she could go on her way...after a few questions of course.

"Then it is fortunate I am here and not elsewhere," Peter Alva responded not even having looked up to acknowledge the stranger speaking to him. She probably had a point. When dressed in robes he ought to be more careful. It did indeed draw a little bit of attention and he could do without being reported to the ministry. They were tedious to deal with and rarely saw things the way Peter Alva did. This whole separation of muggle and wizarding world was ridiculous in his eyes. So much had happened during the war that should have exposed the presence of wizards, but both sides were happy yo sweep anything under the rug that didn't seem to conform with their world view. It was saddening.

"I had hope recent events would bring us together," Peter Alva said thoughtfully, "but instead we are drifting apart. We don't welcome the strange and new into our hearts anymore. It's a grave shortcoming of the times." Perhaps, such heady conversations were better left for meetings among elemental acolytes in Inverness, but for now Peter Alva didn't seem to mind addressing a virtual stranger. He didn't have much insight into how common, non-elemental witches and wizards thought or felt and thus determined to make the most of this opportunity to learn more. His position prevented him from experiencing ordinary life as others did.

It was now he gave the lady a quick once over. She was extremely short, and seemed to be the lively and vibrant sort. Peter Alva liked that. He had always preferred people who gave their opinion freely and could keep him interested. He didn't mind at all when she decided to sit with him and produced a vague smile. It was nice to meet people and make new acquaintances. He always regretted that there wasn't more opportunity for that in his life. Being an official of the elemental council came with a lot of unwanted restrictions even if the elementals were only a small organisation known to very few witches and wizards. What was the point of representing when their wasn't an audience? The answer felt dissatisfying. It was tradition.

"Enjoying the market?" He asked casually trying to offer an easier subject of conversation along with his initial words.  "Been a busy day, has't it? I usually come earlier when it is less crowded, but I had an errant to run this morning. So are you local, don't think I've seen you before." A lot of questions, but Peter Alva was interested. It wasn't every day he was approached by such a young girl. It was likely she didn't know who he was nor was it likely that she had guessed his age. That was fun. He enjoyed being young again for a couple of minutes every now and then, leaving behind the weight the centuries had imposed on him.

"I'm Peter Alva. It's nice to meet you."

"True" Xandra admitted with a shrug, she had a expected a more sarcastic reply or an eye roll but casual was nice. She shifted from foot to foot when a funny reply came to mind, thought it was probably only funny to her. "Well you could always claim its a magic trick, some people are just that gullible." She figured the joke either went over his head or was completely lame. Even in her mind she thought she could've found something better to say. He just seemed so casual about the whole, magical weirdness in front of muggles thing, it was different.

"I doubt that would happen anytime soon, our side isn't the only side that's both closed minded and stubborn" Even if it was a heavy topic for two strangers, Xandra was curious about where the conversation would go. That alone was enough to take her mind off the groceries she bought.  "I think it's less about strange and more about new. There are a lot of die hard traditionalists and more sheep than sheep herders." Of course, she was sure her family or at least some of her family would fit in the category of traditionalists.

Sipping her coffee she analyzed the man sitting across from her he seemed older than he appeared. Not in looks, but the way he spoke held years and years of experience. She wasn't sure if it was years of making the same mistakes or watching others make them. Xandra quickly decided that he was extremely mature or rather experienced for his age...whatever it was. Tilting her head to the side, she tried to find one word to describe the man before her.

"When i'm not restocking my food cupboards" she said a small smile on her lips as she cycled through different words in her mind. She shrugged, tracing the edge of her coffee cup "pretty much, I usually put off shopping until it's a necessity." Curious...the man before her way curious and even though she felt like it was an unsatisfactory description it was the only one close enough. "Yep, I don't live that far from here, I do enjoy the walk its the crowded shops and hurried pace I don't like." She pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and raised an eyebrow at his name. It was strange but normal and she didn't recognize the last name, it wasn't one she had heard before.

"My names Xandra Bane, it's nice to meet you too."

"That goes without saying." Peter Alva knew much of the stubbornness of both wizards and muggles. He could remember life before the Statute of Secrecy had found widespread adoption and what things had been like when wizards and muggles still talked to each other. Things had not been perfect then, however, the failings of the past were no reason to not try and improve the present. Things changed and the impossible, eventually, became possible. Yet, it was probably too soon. Peter Alva found that age had made him impatient. Now that he had crossed the halfway point, with more time lying behind him than ahead of him he was beginning to feel that his time, too, was finite. What he had once perceived as an endless ocean was shrinking now and would eventually be gone forever. The feeling was difficult to get used to.

"I often think it is simply fear. The muggles have come far in a short time and their numbers are far greater than ours. However, if we don't want our traditions to die we should mix and mingle rather than keep to ourselves. All that is worth preserving will stand the test of time." This was what he told his elementals when they were concerned about their shrinking numbers and steady decline. They're were fewer born into each generation, slowly rendering the Council's isolationist politics obsolete. Peter Alva had begun to work towards a gradual opening, taking small, subtle steps towards this goal. It was all the old guard of mostly stone and earth could swallow.

The name Bane rang a bell or two. Peter Alva had definitely heard it before, though he couldn't recall having any personal dealings with the pureblood family. Didn't they have their stronghold somewhere in Wales? No doubt his acolytes would have known, but he only followed pureblood politics on occasion. It was too frustrating a subject to waste his free time on. Peter Alva preferred to spend what little time was not preoccupied by his duties with his daughter, Sophie. She was the most important person in the world to him.

Snapping out of his idle thoughts on the history of the Bane name, Peter Alva produced a little smile. "Now, I must say I am surprised. I would have thought someone as young as yourself would enjoy the crowds and busy life. I know I used to seek out the thick of it all whenever possible. Now, I am usually too busy and shopping has to be taken care of very quickly. No time to meet people or to make new acquaintances. Today is a lucky exception for me. And of course I like observing." He leaned forward a little pointing out an individual among the crowd pushing itself past the window. "That man is a famous necromancer. I see him here all the time. From the looks of him you wouldn't think, but the aura of death magic clings onto him even here when surrounded by muggles. I think he is rather fond of the muggle woman running the vegetable stall - but he never tells her that. It's a sad story really."

He took a first sip from his cup. "Fear and stubbornness. The two greatest evils of our time both on an individual and societal level. I've been wondering on occasion if I should interfere, but perhaps that would be doing more harm than good." It seemed hard to shake the broody thoughtfulness now. Once the door to it was opened it was difficult to shut this door again. Peter Alva thought this was the greatest curse of old age: sooner or later one realised that certain things stayed the same no matter what one did to try and change them. So in the end, all that remained was hope.

Xandra nodded, the word curious didn't seem to apply anymore as the conversation went on. Perhaps she could use the word peculiar, peculiar was a nice flexible words. Still there was something about him that made her think he spent hours if not days thinking this over. She found that Muggles and Wizards were very similar they just had one difference. More often than not she was convinced that both sides suffered from a superiority complex.

"You do have a point, people fear what they don't understand or can't control. It's one of the mean points I make when explain what's wrong with how magical creatures are treated." She laughed a bit at the mixing and mingling comment. Her mother seemed like a very social women, as far as parties and such went. The only problem was that she only mixed and mingled with purebloods. "It would be easier to just make magic known than to get certain pureblood families to mix and mingle with muggles." She shook her head and sighed, while she didn't share her some part of her family's view on blood purity she didn't exactly call them out on it.

She laughed freely at his words, most people were surprised by her dislike for crowds and busyness. "Well I like parties and rallie but i'm not very good with with market places and such, too much chaos? Although rallies and parties are just semi-organized chaos." She twirled a strand of her hair at the slight contradiction, she didn't like chaos but she liked chaos? Observing? Strangely enough it wasn't a surprise to her that he liked observing, it was an exciting hobby. Her eyes followed and landed on the person he was pointing to and smiled.

"Almost makes me wanna play matchmaker, sadly I don't think I have enough qualification for that job." Though a small smile stayed on her lips at the thought, sometimes things just didn't work out the way you wanted. Though the word necromancer caught her attention and not in a bad way. While she never had interest in such things as death and necromancy she was acurious soul. She took another look at the man and decided that he didn't look like what she would expect one to look like. She felt as if something involving death would cause a person to he...well doom and gloom.

"Unfortunately both will still be there no matter how many generations pass. I stubbornness to the worst, people are too stubborn to let go of fear, fear turns into intolerance and then we teach it to our children...a vicious cycle." That fact only cemented the idea that she shouldn't have kids. Xandra was way too caught up in her career and general life to even question why that thought crossed her mind. It was best to put it off as random musings and not waste the time and energy.

Peter Alva smiled. It had been a long time since he had last been to a good party. Working at a boarding school, he sometimes got invited to the odd student party, but that wasn't the same as finding a good pub or club to spend a fun evening in. For starters, it wasn't appropriate to dance and flirt with his students, which in his opinion was the most fun when attending parties. Having Sophie had definitely changed his life. He spent most of his evenings at home and only ventured out into the nearest town on occasion. It wasn't the same as coming into London, Paris and Amsterdam regularly to embrace adventure.

"Do people still go to Nyx?" the elemental asked genuinely curious. "I used to go there a couple of years back when I was in London more often. Really fun club with nice drinks." It was peculiar how his youthful appearance had also kept him youthful in other regards. He could socialise with younger folk without sticking out too much. It kept him flexible and yet he sometimes longed for comfort of times long past. He thought back to meeting Sophie's mother. It had been a marvellous adventure, but not what he had expected given the prophecy of the pythia. Had he altered the future, defied prophecy or where the things foretold yet to come? He couldn't say.

He took another sip from his cup while considering the rest of her words. It was true, the more things changed the more they stayed the same. Yet, Peter Alva believed in progress and from his unique perspective he could really see it happening. However, it was a slow process and there were many setbacks. His elementals had come a long way, but Council believes and doctrine only reached a small part of the general population. It was difficult to find a wider audience and his obligations kept him from pursuing this goal in earnest.

"We must try what we can to teach the next generation to do better," he said kindly. "That is the reason I became a teacher. I won't lie though, a certain amount of disillusionment sets in when you see the same narrow-minded idiots filter into your classroom year in, year out. It costs a lot of energy to not just give up on a part of your students. I do try though. Even if I only change the life of one student, it would be worth it. I'd like to think though that I have been more successful than that." Modesty. He knew he had impacted some of them, and not just his elementals.

"So what is it that you do?" He thought he had heard her mention animals, which Peter Alva could definitely respect. He admired those capable of doing such work. It was a book with seven seals to him. He was too cerebral to engage on an emotional and instinctual level and his unnatural coldness did the rest. Animals often shied away from him even if he could be calm and gentle. The only exception was his horse, Starweaver, with whom he had bonded over the years. They were linked now.