golden ✨

February 2004

Even the sunset had decided to give a show tonight for the gathering of the wizarding elite. It was a blaze of gold and the deepest oranges, a swash of purple closest to the horizon. It was beautiful and Marisa thought she might want to stare at it forever, but she knew the party awaited her. She inhaled, steeling herself, as the Marchesi mansion loomed before her. She entered with her dress a soft swish against her legs.

The Marchesi's were true to their reputation, only providing the best of the best for their clients, but tonight they had taken it to a whole other level. And even Marisa, who was used to the extravagance and luxury, was astonished and impressed.

She had known the theme of the gala tonight was Greek gods and goddesses, but she hadn't quite expected it to be so.. over the top. The marble floors of the mansion glittered faintly with gold sparkles and everything was draped in flowing white fabric and  green climbing vines, bouquets of fresh wisteria and freesia. As she made her way into the grand ballroom where most of the festivities were being held, her caramel eyes widened as she took in.. everything.

Witches levitating above daises contorting themselves into shapes that Marisa didn't think was possible, wearing skin tight golden suits that showed every beautiful line of their bodies. Gold-leaf trays of delicacies floated through the room, servants stood over settees holding bouquets of grapes and the finest champagne in gold-rimmed flutes to partiers, scrumptious displays of food were spread throughout the ballroom, private alcoves half-hidden by creamy white drapes. It was a dream. She felt transported.

She had expected nothing less from her family.

Marisa had worked for weeks on this gown, the palest of blues and grays, inspired by Selene, Greek goddess of the moon,  and it flowed around her like clouds against the night sky. It was made of tulle and silk, and swirled about her legs elegantly, the bodice delicate with a deep plunging neckline. It was deeper than any other dress she had ever owned, but it was narrow so was more of a tease of skin than an actual show of cleavage. She had worked her magic on it as well, being indulgent for herself for once. It glittered like stars in the evening sky and night-blooming flowers gently opened and fluttered on her shoulder and down the bodice. Her hair was half up, half down and a riot of curls over her shoulders, pinned back with a moon-shaped barrette. Her golden bracelets around her wrists that helped keep her Sight at bay kept her calm. She felt like a dream and for once, she was excited.

Her history with her family was tenuous at best. Because of what her father had done, because of who her mother was, but tonight, she felt hopeful. She almost didn't want to admit it to herself because the thought of disappointment crushed her, but she couldn't stop thinking about the family tradition that she knew was silly. It was silly for adults to sit around in a grand room and give each other awards and pats on the backs and gifts, but each year, the Marchesi matriarch called up the head of each shop in front of everyone and presented them with a gift for their hard work and service to the family. Of course the gift was ostentatious and expensive, but Marisa didn't necessarily care about that. She was more so looking forward to the thought of being accepted, appreciated by her family. She tried not to put too much thought into it.

And so the night progressed both quickly and slowly in turn, crawling as she got caught in conversation with clients she had to schmooze, slowly when she stood in close to an alcove and listened to the string quartet performing on the stage at the end of the room, her eyes fluttering close as she enjoyed the music. But so far, her gift remained dormant and so she was happy.

Marisa hadn't seen her grandmother yet, but she knew she was in the room. Moreta had presence with a capital P so she knew she was here somewhere. She wandered closer to a table of food and looked over the spread, feeling peckish. Marisa wondered if she could escape to her old room to relax until the speeches started later.

@Reed Stringfellow

When Reed came to events like the Marchesi gala, it was typically because of work (or his undying need to feel like he was on top of the world). He had simple goals: Mingle with the wizarding elite, Ingratiate himself with the upper echelon of the business world, and Potentially make a few deals while he was at it. And tonight would be no different. He'd been to enough of these to know what the schedule was like. It was a costly meal, followed by dancing and cocktails, and ultimately finished with a ceremony for the top of the family.

Reed had brought his tribute and placed it on the large table inside the ballroom, just as he was expected to. The real gifts came from Moreta herself, though, and everyone knew the shinier the present, the more you meant to the family. It was like a not-so-subtle way for the rest of the world to know precisely which Marchesi tailoresses were currently in style and which ones to avoid. Everyone who ran a shop got a gift from Moreta and paraded in front of the party, that was standard, but of course, there was a pecking order. Reed was only interested in seeing one of the tailoresses, though Marisa was the only one he cared about.

The wizard had chatted up a few bureaucrats, avoided Auntie V Marchesi quite delicately, and managed to keep himself away from the ridiculously expensive vodka fountain so far. He was in a good mood though, the night was going well, the decorations were impressive, and Reed knew he looked quite debonaire in his Ares inspired Marchesi suit Just as he saw another older witch approaching him, Reed ducked away from his table, and toward the tower of hors d'oeuvres he could hide behind. And that was when he saw Marisa; Reed gravitated toward her instantly.

Reed had seen Marisa outside of the tailor shop environment once or twice, but he had never seen her dressed quite this revealing. The neckline was devastatingly low, but it was an absolute tease, and Reed's eyes lingered on the sliver of skin it afforded, a slight smirk growing on his face. The blue complemented her skin tone perfectly, and it only took a moment for him to know that the magic stitched into the fabric was Marisa's doing. She was a singularly gifted witch, but it seemed suits weren't her only area of expertise.

"Your aunt will not leave me alone," He teased, icy blue eyes ascending to meet hers, a twinkle of playfulness dancing around them. "You should give me a tour so that I may hide from her a little while longer." In truth, Reed just wanted an excuse to stare at Marisa. "You look incredible in that dress."

She felt the buzz of a presence before she saw him and when she did, she smiled tentatively. Then saw his gaze travel down her and then back up. It would be a lie to say that hadn't been her intention with a dress designed like this, but she also didn't think she'd feel so warm from his gaze either. She hoped her cheeks didn't betray her blush. And not that she had expected anything less, but he looked every bit the God of War in his suit that she had designed and created herself. No wonder Auntie Vi wouldn't leave him alone. He gave off a very magnetic energy tonight.

"I warned you," Marisa said in greeting as she grinned lightly, noticing the way the amusement sparkled in his eyes, contrasting with the strength and boldness of his suit and costume. Then again, Reed was always such an interesting juxtaposition of things. "Maybe we should have gone with something a little... less.." She wasn't sure less of what because she knew it was mostly him and not the suit. The man made the suit, not the other way around. So she gave a little shrug, "..She might have mentioned you specifically by name earlier," she added, a grin pulling up the corners of her mouth as she laughed quietly at the thought. She was sure Reed was used to being predator, not prey, so the idea that he was running away from her was amusing.

A tour? She shook her head. "You know my grandmother will have my head if she thinks I'm not entertaining clients," she told him even as she slid her gaze around the room for the matriarch. She wouldn't want to upset her tonight of all nights. This was Moreta's night, the singular event she orchestrated and planned for perfectly all year. It hadn't disappointed so far, she could still hear newcomers entering with their delighted gasps and murmured praises.

Marisa glanced down at her dress with a shy smile. Normally, she would brush off such a compliment, especially from Reed, saying it was nothing special, just something she had whipped up quickly in between clients, which was true of course, but tonight was a little different. She let herself revel in the compliment. Marisa was feeling light and good and hopeful. So instead she met his gaze, looking up at him and smiled softly. "Thank you," she accepted the compliment, but she was quick to turn the attention away from herself too. "You look great as well." She almost winced, she hadn't meant to compliment herself since it was her design so she added. "You always make my designs look better."

"By name? Well, I'm fucked then, right?" Reed whispered, laughing as he moved an inch closer to her, one hand dipping into the pocket of his red suit and the other around his glass of dragon whiskey. Marisa's aunt was crazy, but most rich people were, so it wasn't like Reed could blame the old witch. So far, tonight had been rather dull, so at the very least, he was thankful for the little bit of entertainment the old cougar had provided.

"Well, I am a client and in desperate need of entertaining." Sometimes just teasing Marisa was entertainment enough, but dressed like she was, Reed was sure she was teasing him a whole lot more. His eyes raked over the cut again, unwilling to stop himself, and lingered on the magical flowers around the skirt folds. It was impressive magic, to be sure. And he was even more impressed that the witch in front of him had accepted his compliment. A rare occurrence, indeed.

Of course, the grace was short-lived as she reflected the comment on to him, and Reed scrunched his nose. He didn't want to talk about how he looked; he wanted to talk about her. "We make a good team, then." He replied, already working on plans to return the subject to her, that dress, and the neckline he would see in his dreams.

"If you won't allow me a tour, then perhaps a walk through the gardens? I have heard tell of a chocolate-frog fountain out there."

"You certainly are," she replied lightly, almost smirking, teasing him back for once. She'd chalk it up later to the party atmosphere, simply entertaining a client, but she rather liked the sound of his laugh. But maybe.. maybe not as much as Auntie Vi. The thought made her quiet smile grow bigger before she glanced away and took a sip of champagne, the glass sparkling in her hand.

She tilted her head and nodded once. "Then I'm happy to oblige," she answered, perhaps a little surprised at her own willingness to play into the game she knew Reed was such a fan of. She knew clothes could weapons, pretty armor you dressed in, so maybe her gown was helping her be a little more brave tonight. She saw the drift in Reed's gaze and wondered if he would even notice anything else. A faint blush warmed her cheeks without her permission.

Marisa huffed a soft laugh as he scrunched his nose at her in an expression she hadn't seen from him before. Normally, she would deny his comment, downplay it, counter it entirely, but tonight was different. She gave him a nod, agreeing, as she glanced around. "I might earn a compliment from Moreta because you chose my design to wear tonight," she told him, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him in her design. Tonight was not only a grand thank you to their clients, but also a show and tell of sorts of the best Marchesi tailors had to offer and their wealthiest clients served as models for their creations. Her designs always seemed more captivating on people with magnetism like Reed. Or maybe it was just Reed himself.

The gardens? She glanced toward the white marbled terrace where the gardens laid beyond with twisting hedges lined with golden fairy lights, twinkling against the dusk. "Of course," she acceded as she stepped in that direction, hesitating as she waited for him. "If you think the chocolate frog fountain is interesting, just wait until you see what's beyond it." Marisa gave him a serpentine smile, her caramel eyes sparkling as she moved toward the gardens, her pale dress swirling around her feet.

Two for two? He must have been dreaming. The witch who usually turned down his every advance was suddenly more amenable than ever. Marisa was better skilled at evasive maneuvers than the Aurors he sparred within the ministry gym. She was courteous and polite but had rejected Reed at every turn — except for tonight. He took it as a green light, turning toward the terrace Marisa was gazing over. And as if Marisa agreeing with him wasn't a rare enough sight, she managed to entice him further with a coquettish smile as she walked away. Reed allowed her to get ahead of him, but only slightly, as he caught a new view of her gorgeous dress.

Taking two steps as one, he fell into step beside her and nodded. "What could be more entertaining than a chocolate frog fountain?" He asked, but he already knew it would be ridiculously extravagant and entirely unneeded. That was the Moreta Marchesi trademark when it came to these types of events. Bigger, better, and with more flare. Reed had always appreciated that Marisa did not seem to share the same need to draw attention to herself.

They strolled through the gardens, but Reed paid more attention to the witch beside him than any of the plants. Though, he was adequately cautious as they passed the rows of Belladonna. "Wonder what la Matriarca uses these for.." Reed mused, a little bit of Italian slipping through. He stepped just close enough to smell the light purple flowers but steering clear of the poisonous purple seeds.

"Scorned lovers, perhaps?"

"Wait and see," she said with a quirk of one brow, purposely being mysterious, as he fell into step beside her. Maybe she had been working too much lately because she normally didn't enjoy these sorts of parties very much. Too many people, too close together, too much extravagance, too much everything. Marisa wasn't sure why she felt so good about tonight either. Maybe it was because she hadn't been home in so long. The air around her, while brisk considering it was February, seemed fresh to her, inviting. She was glad Reed had mentioned the gardens. This had been her favorite place to escape to when she had lived here with Moreta a few years ago.

She kept her arms at her sides, her hands buried in the folds of her dress as they strolled through the gardens, a few partygoers here and there had also escaped the busy ballroom. Her eyes were drawn to the sunset streaming across the sky in red and golds, her mind wandering back to the little cafe that she had visited often when she had been in her apprentice days here in Neroli. They had the best flaky pastries and her mouth started watering at the thought.

At the sound of his voice, she glanced back to him, following his gaze, feeling a bit guilty for getting lost in her thoughts. She raised her brows in question, before she recognized the plant from her Auror training days. Belladonna. She tried to fight a smile as she glanced back up at him, already shaking her head at his suggestion. She wasn't saying one bad word about Moreta. She had little birds everywhere. She loved information more than anything else.

"I've heard rumors of the worst behaved clients disappearing.." she offered as a possible reason. Then she smiled at him sweetly. "Better make sure you don't get on that list," she quipped just before she turned and started walking down the path that she knew would take them to the chocolate frog fountain that he had wanted to see.

Reed raised an eyebrow at her suggestion, and while he didn't think Moreta wouldn't do that, he was undoubtedly feeling on top of the world tonight, so he decided to press his luck. "I am too important to fall onto that list; besides, you would save me from her ire, wouldn't you?" He said slickly, moving away from the Belladonna and taking an extra step back as it seemed to notice him moving. The plant tilted toward them, magical and sentient, and Reed gave it a wide birth. The last thing he needed was hallucinations tonight. He supposed that would top his stories from last year's gala.

He would rather improve on this year's memories in other ways, however, and he turned back to Marisa with a smile. "So what is hiding behind the chocolate fountain?" He hadn't forgotten her mysterious tease; it was a hard thing to put out of his mind, but they were nearing the end of the Belladonna trail, and he could practically smell the magical chocolate flowing. He could hear the frogs too.

Marisa tried to fight a smile at his questioning gaze and gave him a little shrug. Too important? Of course he would phrase it like that. "Perhaps," she answered him but his question made her tilt her head slightly as they moved passed the belladonna and on to another plant she didn't quite recognize at first. Although it smelled lovely. She might even have bent closer to smell the floral scent, but she knew what kind of plants Moreta kept here and belladonna surely wasn't the worst of them. "Save you from her? And why would I do that?" she told him quietly, gazing at him sidelong. "You seem like someone who likes a little danger."

She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, playing this game with him, but she almost didn't want to admit it was.. fun. For tonight, she wanted to lean in to the lightness and fun and utter ridiculous of the party. Or maybe the dress she had crafted made her feel brave. Or maybe it was just him. But she didn't want to think about that too deeply so she focused on the fountain coming up ahead instead.

The witch dressed like the goddess of the moon shrugged lightly, not answering his question, her usual MO, only saying, "I think you'll like it." She wasn't going to spoil it, but she was sure he'd like it given his predilection with snake and serpent imagery and icons. A memory of the snake tattoo slithering across his abs at his last fitting flitted through her mind and her cheeks burned but she nodded toward the fountain. "Chocolate frog fountain," she announced the obvious as it loomed before them it all its chocolately glory. There were servants standing at the ready with a collection of fruits and other sweets that you could dip into the ridiculously gigantic chocolate fountain where chocolate frogs frolicked. "I heard the chocolate was imported from Peru," she offered, glancing at him, wondering if the sight lived up to his curiosity.

Reed was surprised and excited by this new, playful side of Marisa. It was so unlike the version of her that he knew from the shop. Professional to the point of rigidity and always on guard. Reed felt like he was talking to an entirely different person tonight, and he liked this side of Marisa. He smiled at her flirtations, enjoying the pleasant back and forth of the conversation. "Me? Danger? Oh no, you have me mistaken for another wizard." He told her slyly, shaking his head. Try as he might, though, the inky tattoos jutting out of the sleeves of his dastardly red God of War suit told a different story. "I'm a simple parchment pusher, all paperwork, and no fun." Another lie. He had underlings file most of the paperwork when he wasn't keeping the prettier ones busy in other (more fun) ways, anyhow.

And while Reed had thought he had uncovered a new side of Marisa, a more forthcoming and outgoing Marisa, she went right back to keeping him out of the loop. Reed was undeterred, as he usually was, and followed her toward the fountain without complaint. She was a mystery, and Reed knew he was more interested in her because of the intrigue. He moved a little closer, whispering, just before they reached the fountain. "Well, you do know what I like." As they rounded the last of the tall garden bushes and the fountain came into view, Reed began to take it all in.

In traditional Moreta Marchesi fashion, it was garish and aggrandized. Where most parties would have had a table fountain, maybe a tier or two for the chocolate, Moreta had a hand-carved monumental stone fountain. Chocolate cascaded over the top and streamed from the carved stallions, glistening as it pooled around the statues and the chocolate frogs hopped around the base. The attendants standing beside the fountain were dressed scantily as if they had walked right out of a Greek painting to serve chocolate instead of grapes. Even the glass and golden trays of fruits and snacks were carefully curated as if the stack of strawberries was a piece of art.

Reed moved forward, plucking a piece of fruit from the tray before dipping it into the fountain. Popping it into his mouth, it tasted exactly as delicious as he had expected it to. "Moreta knows how to throw quite the party." He mentioned, reaching for something to try next and pausing at the choice. "Pineapple or banana?" The wizard asked, waiting for Marisa to choose for him.

Marisa fought a smile at his sarcasm, amused at the notion that he would try to pass as anything but what he obviously was. He looked even more the very picture of danger tonight in that blood red suit that stood out among the black suits that many of the men wore. Like a beacon.. or a warning. Paper pusher? "I don't believe that for a second, Reed," she said, blinking before she realized his name sounded unfamiliar on her lips. She didn't often address him by first name. She hurried to rush past that. "And besides, I think you like people to know you're dangerous," she observed, a rare bit of honesty, before she turned back to the fountain.

It was ridiculously lavish. This whole party was, and yet, it brought a smale smile to her lips and she tried to avert her eyes away from the naked, chiseled chest of the servant bearing strawberries for them to dip. She refused to think of the comparison between this man and Reed at his last fitting. Merlin, she hoped her cheeks weren't red. She felt the whisper of his breath closer to her and she instinctively shied away. Marisa was wearing her bracelets that helped keep her Sight at bay, but it wasn't fool proof and Reed wasn't someone she could trust with something like that. She nodded and made a little noise of agreement. She really did know what he liked and usually it was of the tall, blonde, and gorgeous variety with boobs for days. She wondered where his date was this evening and why he was out here in the garden with her instead.

As Reed tried the chocolate fountain, Marisa declined with a small shake of her head when the servant silently offered the tray gently extended in her direction and instead glanced around the gardens. She nodded to an older couple, Italian, stately, dressed finely in matching wine colored garments that she immediately recognized the work of her cousin Antonio. The man smiled back coldly, the woman ignoring her altogether, and Marisa wondered at the snub, but turned back to Reed at his question. "Pineapple," she said easily, picking up his habit of choosing decisively. She suspected he might like the tang of the pineapple with the sweet of the chocolate. He had opposing tastes, she thought.

"If you're done gorging yourself, I'll show you the real spectacle out here," she said with a hint of a smile as she stepped in the direction toward the center of the garden, the paths lined with lights as if leading them there.

Reed liked to think he was a pretty decent liar; after all, he did it every day — and was paid handsomely by his government to do so — but he hadn't really been trying to convince Marisa. Quite the opposite. Anyone who admitted to enjoying danger was obviously overcompensating for other things. And while Reed was perfectly comfortable in sticky situations, the wizard had nothing to compensate for. And so, when she called him on the fib, he laughed. "But I will never be the one to say it." He corrected her, eyebrows darting up slightly as he nodded.

"If someone openly tells you who they are, they are lying." He'd learned that lesson many times over. People weren't typically forthcoming about their nature or motivations. Reed lived by a simple truth: actions were louder than words. And usually more trustworthy. Marisa turned toward the fountain, and Reed stared at her back for a moment. He knew very little about who she was outside of being the lead tailoress of the London Marchesi shop. And everything he had learned, Reed had discovered for himself, Marisa didn't talk about herself. It was why he trusted her more than anyone else at the party. Everyone here was saying, 'look at me, I'm amazing,' but Marisa didn't need to ask for attention; Reed gave his freely.

"Gorging?" He asked her, the pineapple in his fingertips, and laughed again. "I'm just getting started." Reed lived an extravagant lifestyle, fancy suits, expensive watches, bottles of wine worth more sickles than most people's broomsticks, so of course, he was going to enjoy himself tonight. "Just hold on." He stated, pulling a shining silver plate from the cart and putting a bit of fruit on top. He looked around for a small bowl, intending to take some of the chocolate to-go when one of the attendants noticed him. Reed pulled his eyes from the thin fabric that clung to her perfect breasts as she handed him a miniature replica of the grand chocolate fountain. As he set it on the plate, it began to produce chocolate, and he made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Moreta thought of everything, it seems."

Turning back to Marisa, who also had a perfectly fitting dress, Reed nodded. "We can share if you want." He offered, licking a little bit of chocolate from his fingertip. He motioned toward the path, ready to follow her lead.

She tried to ignore the way the sound of his laughter made her want to smile and gave him a one-shouldered shrug instead. Marisa didn't think he had to tell anyone he was dangerous. If not from the obvious way he looked, the way he carried himself and quietly analyzed the world around him were clues enough, as well as the fact that he was probably deadly in a fight. She hadn't even seen that and wasn't sure she wanted to except in the dark corners of curiosity in her mind, but she had always thought her ability to quickly judge someone had always helped her in her former days of Auror training. Now it was used (and wasted) on whether or not clients would be difficult. She tried not to miss the past.

His added statement did make her turn to look at him, her head tilted slightly to the side as a few curls dropped over her shoulder. She blinked at him, pausing for a moment as she thought over his words, before she asked, "So if I told you something about me, I'd be lying?" If I told you I had the Sight, would you think I'm lying. She could have said it in a joke, teasing, telling him something about herself without really saying anything at all... but she wasn't that brave to say what she really thought.

But on second thought, the idea that he truly believed that was slightly terrifying. It meant that he really saw people, saw them by their actions rather than the words most people hid behind. Marisa didn't like that idea. She didn't want to know what he had seen about her, but a tiny part of her was curious to see if he got anything right too. His laugh brought her back to center and she gave him a quick smile to show she was paying attention. She watched as he piled up some fruit, her brows perking up impressed but nor surprised at the to-go personal chocolate fountains. "Of course, she did," she agreed with an amused smile before she started down the path that would bring him towards the magicked monument she thought he might enjoy.

She fell into step beside her, her hands in the folds of her gown as it floated around her like clouds, quiet as the smooth pave winded before them, but it was a short walk until they arrived just around a bend of fragrant white roses. It was a monument of white stone, three snakes curved around one another, separate both intertwined, each arcing up towards the sky with all three heads lowered and looking right at the spot in front of them, as if beckoning for someone to appear before them. Ripples of magic floated around the monument, each snake illuminating faintly with a different color. Purple, red, orange. It was impressive on its own and utterly ridiculous to have brought in just for the off chance that their guests might wander out here to see it, but Marisa had heard of what the magic did and was intrigued. Meeting up with Reed and knowing his predilection toward serpentine imagery was only a bonus.

"I heard if you step just there," she nodded toward a rounded stone just beneath the three heads, "the snake that aligns with what you want most will light up," she explained as she glanced around. "There has to be.. ahh there it is." She stepped closer to a golden plaque just to the side and read aloud for him. "Purple means power, red for love, and orange for purpose." She slid her gaze to him and then to the spot where the magic would take hold. "Go on, then. I want to see if I'm right about you," she added, smiling lightly with a nod toward the three snakes waiting for their next volunteer/victim. 

"So if I told you something about me, I'd be lying?" Marisa had asked, and Reed wasted very little time as he began to answer her question. "Most likely." He started, popping another strawberry halve into his mouth and chewing slowly, his eyes watching her expression intently. After he'd finished the treat, he spoke again. "Everyone lies. To each other, of course, but most of all to ourselves. Humans tend to build up the idea of who we are in our minds, sometimes for armor, sometimes to prove a point, but whatever the cause, we all do it. And eventually, we are our own biggest fools." Reed had examined this part of himself all too deeply; he had looked himself in the mirror and realized he was nothing but a scam. And that was when he decided, and if he was going to be a liar, he had best become a damn good one.

They continued further away from the fountains, and the sounds of guests mingling, until there was only silence and the faint glow of fairy lights surrounding them. It was peaceful, and Reed felt calmer around Marisa than around most, and so he continued further into his sermon. "Did you know every time you remember something, you change it a little in your mind?" Reed had thought extensively about that too. So much so that he had considered purchasing a Pensieve to spare himself such illusions. "Good memories, bad memories, everything; it all gets twisted up here until our defining moments serve the narrative we choose." A tattooed finger touching his temple as he spoke, Reed's eyes never pulled away from Marisa's face.

Everyone lies.

And Reed was just another in the ever-growing list of offenders. He lied daily, for good reasons and bad ones, for sickles and fun; it didn't matter. He lied so much that sometimes he honestly forgot what the truth was about things. His whole life was one big game of make-believe. They reached the end of the path, and Reed stopped moving as the snakes came into view. A half-chewed cherry in his mouth, his eyes finally peeled off of Marisa as he stared up at the grand statue. And he had thought the fountain was extravagant. Reed finished chewing, set his plate on top of a stone retaining wall next to him, and listened to Marisa's explanation.

Purple for power, red for love, and orange for purpose. Reed smirked at the idea, and that of all creatures, it was the snake that presided over this garden. It was fitting, he thought. Looking to Marisa, her beautiful brown eyes watching the statue, Reed wondered if she knew that he came from a long line of Parselmouths. She gave him the option to try the test first, and Reed was not one to shy away from a challenge. He stepped forward, stopping just before the foundation to inspect the stonework. It looked as though etched by hand and painfully so. Reed could see the places where the chisel struck and then hesitated as if the artist was terrified of messing up. It must have been a century old, and like most things about the Marchesi family, it was daunting and impressive.

Setting a tooled leather shoe on the stone foundation, he cleared his mind and completed the movement. The stepping stone clicked into place, and Reed's wolfish grin grew, confident, and relaxed under pressure. Part of him had assumed it would glow purple, Reed's lust for power was well documented, and he guessed that Marisa expected that as well. But there was another part of him, the dauntless part that kept his chaos at bay, that knew more than anything in this world, Reed was driven by purpose. The snakes began to hum, whispering in a language he understood, and Reed clicked his tongue at them. And then a vibrant orange burst from the statue, and Reed smiled at Marisa.

"Were you right?"

Her eyes flickered to the strawberry between his lips as he pinned her with his gaze. Marisa tried to keep a neutral expression, but she was intrigued and disbelieving and a little uneasy at his words. There was a certain intelligence and cunning to his thoughts and observations that she hadn't expected from him. She knew he was wicked smart and sly, he had to be considering his career in politics and the whispers she had about his deals both on the Ministry side and the darker side of the magical underworld. But this insight he had into the human psyche made her feel lost and unbalanced, maybe outmatched. She was still wrapping herself in lies and secrets hoping no one would figure anything out about her while she got the feeling that he had ascended to a whole other level and used secrets and lies to his favor.

She knew she would be replaying his words later on tonight, when she was out of this gown and curled up with her cats, combing through the meanings, wondering if any of it applied directly to her or if he shared them as generalizations. So, no, she wouldn't be volunteering any information about herself tonight, not in light of what he had just told her. He wouldn't believe her anyway. But still, she wondered. "So you don't believe in truth or honesty?" she asked, curious. Marisa wanted to believe in those things, that she could be those things, but so far, lies and secrecy were weapons she needed to wield and that's what she chose. She couldn't back down now.

Marisa's hands fell into the folds of her skirt as they swirled around her legs, whispers of satin and tulle around her as they delved further into the manicured gardens, his voice a familiar rumble. She glanced at him as they walked, her brows perked. "Really?" she asked, her mind already whirring about the implications of memory and it's unreliability. It did sound familiar though she hadn't taken the Oblivator training when she had been an Auror-in-training so she couldn't come up with any interesting tidbits of her own to share. "We're all just products of our own egos then?" she clarified, her gaze following the movement of his tattooed hands against his temple. She had to wonder what memories she had twisted until they were comfortable enough to hold in her mind. She had to wonder what things she had forced to fit her narrative. Her eyes met his as her thoughts pulled in different directions and again, she wondered at how this man could make her so curious and so confused at the same time.

She was lucky then that her intended surprise had the effect on him that she had hoped for. his attention was caught and she wasn't sure if he liked the magic of that monument or the serpent imagery more. "I had wondered if you chose Ares because the serpent is one of the icons most often associated with the God of War," she told him. Then again, he did seem to know more than she did about Greek Gods and Goddesses if his mention of the Moon Goddess's consort was any indication. It still didn't explain why he and his whole family for that matter had such a preference of serpent icons. "Is the snake your family's sigil or something?" she asked after a moment as he took in the statue and she could admire the line of his broad shoulders as the three heads of the snakes arced over him.

Marisa felt a buzz of the magic as he stepped onto the stone and she ran a hand up her forearm, clutching her elbow as she watched from the side, her gaze on his face. Confident, at ease, she almost envied him. She heard the hissing sounds, almost as if the snakes were speaking, but it would be silly to think her family had spent time magicking a monument with speech. This was a parlor trick and nothing more, something to entertain guests. And yet, she was mesmerized by the way Reed stared at the snakes as if challenging them and they gazed back at him.

She almost didn't notice when the orange snake lit up. Marisa glanced back at the sign to confirm. Orange for purpose. Oh. She met his gaze and gave her a smile in reply, amused, a little surprised. She shook her head after a moment, her curls sliding across her bare shoulders. "Not what I was expecting, no," she told him. Then again, she shouldn't have been surprised. He was never what she expected.

Marisa glanced up at the three snake heads and was curious which would light up for her, but then her gaze drifted to Reed. She almost didn't want him to know though and why, she wasn't certain. It was like he saw too much of her already. Then again.. if he thought everything was lies anyway, where would the harm be. She was curious and she knew most of what Moreta did was to impress so the magic could be just a random pattern no matter who stepped up to the plate, not an actual analyzation of the person standing person the serpents. She took a half step forward before someone cleared their throat. "Signora, signore," She turned her head to see one of the servants from the party. "The ceremony will begin soon," the servant said and Marisa started. Had they been out here for that long? She hadn't realized. She didn't want to miss the ceremony, especially not with the head of shop recognitions.

Her heart squeezed at the thought and her eyes were bright as she glanced back at Reed as she took a hurried, excited step to follow after the servant. "Come on or Moreta will have my head," she said lightly, a thrill going through her despite her words, but she tried to contain it. She knew it was silly for a room full of adults to sit around and give each other awards and recognitions but at the same time, she was oddly looking forward to it too. And had been for weeks. "Hurry or you'll get stuck next to Auntie V," she added with a grin.