A Short Project

[Monty Pendleton]

[adminapproval=11500117]Christmas was nearing, and for the first time since his employment Monty knew exactly what to get for Arvo. Actually, it was a present both for Arvo and Kata, courtesy of an advertisement he'd seen in the newspaper not three days ago. Wine and biscuits always seemed so impersonal, especially for a family the Potions Professor had grown closer to than his own. But this year he had a very special gift in mind, and the fact it required him to pay a visit to a Mr. Lichester did not trouble him in the slightest.

At the man's gate Monty let himself in, taking care to close it quietly and without disturbing any shrubbery. Every bush, flower and plant that lined the path up to the man's vast and beautiful house seemed to have been pruned so precisely that a puff of wind might send the entire garden into disarray. It was quite alarming, in all its beauty, for Monty himself was the antonym of meticulous when it came to caring for his home; he certainly had to wonder what this Mr. Lichester was like. Shaking off the eerie feeling that had settled around him, Monty trod carefully along the path and arrived finally at the front door, knocking twice.

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

It was nudging the mid-afternoon, and coming time to prepare for the rest of the night. As a very busy man, Alessio ran his house like clockwork, with every task that needed to be done written down and given an allotted time to be completed. Juggling a spouse, and four young children, as well as his hobbies and profession meant that time management was key in his life from the moment he woke up, to the moment he went back to sleep. The house was open-plan, with each room blending well with the other, and the kitchen being the man focus of the house. His home was impossibly tidy, with cleanliness being a priority of his, and with a toddler and baby in the house this meant that he had to work hard to keep the walls and floors clean, and the man himself matched his home in every way. Fortunately, today Wilfred, Urielle and Trevor were out with their Tata, as he felt it important that Urielle bond with her siblings and new parent, whilst he was tasked with watching their youngest. The well-behaved babe was sound asleep, protected in her room and entertained by the moving pictures, that would alert Alessio if she stirred.

His nose crinkled slightly as he organised parts of raw meat into fist-sized mounds. It was easier to store and clean when separated and wrapped, but it was also messy work. With the family out of the house, this was the best time to do the more... dirty parts of his hobby. He had to wear an apron and gloves, as well as line the floor with protective plastic to save him the trouble of mopping up the red life residue that would occasional sprinkle onto the floor from gravity. He kept his work over the sink for washing and bagging, but when it came to cutting it up, he needed to sacrifice the counter.

The gate being disturbed at the front of the house alerted him to a potential visitor, and he paused his work. He gave a quiet, disgruntled hum at being disturbed, and placed the meat down carefully to remove his stained gloves and apron, before moving towards the door. He gave a quick look out the window, not recognising the man in the slightest. The Italian didn't like visitors very much, but he was keeping his feet to the footpath, at least. It was a side effect of working from home, unfortunately, and after the second knock he allowed a polite pause, before opening the door smoothly.

"Good afternoon, Alessio Lichester," he greeted, introducing himself whilst he was there. Rather then offering a handshake, he gave a polite nod. He naturally assumed that this had to be a potential client, and so tried his best to make himself as welcoming as possible. "How may I help you?"​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

As he waited, Monty's gaze drifted curiously across the perfectly flattened lawn, so that when the front door opened he had to reel around to greet the man stood on the other side of it. "Hello," he returned, somewhat nervously. The absence of an offered hand was both relieving and disconcerting all at once, but Monty did his best to disregard his apprehension. Clearing his throat, he said, "I, uh, believe you received my owl regarding a commission? Montgomery Pendleton's the name."

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

Alessio gave him a small, polite smile. "Si, yes, I have your letter." Montgomery Pendleton was certainly a name he would remember. Considering the season, his work had picked up with many people wanting portraits charmed, redone, or copied, and Alessio was the man for the job. He had steady hands and a meticulous eye for detail, which was perhaps why his home was particularly lifeless, even in all of its beautiful. Lifeless, to the Italian, was attractive and comforting. He opened the door further for his client, and ushered him politely into the foyer. Whilst the foyer and hallway had marble flooring, the lounge room they would be passing through was covered in a rich, pristine white carpet made of New Zealand wool, and he rather liked keeping it clean. Whilst the gentleman had used the very well defined path to the house from the gate, that did not mean that his shoes would not permanently stain the woollen floor.

"I'm sorry to ask." He wasn't sorry at all. "But could you please remove your shoes? I can provide you with unworn slippers if you would like them. Your shoes can go on the wooden stool just over there." The foyer was quite Spartan in its layout, with only a wooden bench for sitting to remove ones shoes, a door that blended into the wall that served as a shoe closet for the occupants of the house, and two exits through hallways.
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[Monty Pendleton]

Monty stepped hesitantly into the pristine foyer, stopping abruptly when he was asked to remove his shoes. "Um," he said, briefly stricken by what sounded to his ears an unsettling request. Then, remembering that it was really just a matter of common courtesy, he returned swiftly to his senses. "Yes, yes, of course." The professor left his shoes on the designated stool, opting not to borrow the pair of slippers. The offer did strike him as odd, but he surmised the man had some sort of anxiety concerning cleanliness, and did not question it. Now that his shoes were removed the Potions Professor awaited direction, expecting to be led somewhere before they began discussing the commission.

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

Alessio nodded gratefully as the shoes were removed, and respected his decision to decline the slippers. Were their positions reversed, he would have likely done the same thing. He tried ti instil the same habits in his children, as their constant running around was unsafe when in the house, and when one wore slippers, if was often harder to run. "Thank you," he made sure to tell him, before gesturing with his hand for him to follow him down one of the exits into the hallway. The house was easily navigated, as in most rooms one could locate a large window to the outdoors that served to orientate the inhabitants, though the sculptured gardens and same patterns repeating themselves could be a little confusing to some - Alessio had never had any trouble.

He walked Mister Pendleton past the kitchen, intentionally avoiding it to ensure that his client didn't see something rather unsightly, as that would be unforgivable. Alessio gestured to one of the comfy, but firm seating chairs in the lounge, and looked for an excuse to return to the kitchen to at least pack away what he had begun. "Can I get you anything, Mister Pendleton - Tea?" he asked. It was then that a splat, followed by another plop, could be heard from the kitchen as two piece of flesh apparently slipped from the counter to the covered floor. The Italian rolled his shoulders a little uncomfortably - there was no way his client could have missed that.

"I don't suppose I could ask you to not be concerned by that?"
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[Monty Pendleton]

Monty followed Alessio through the open-plan house, marvelling at the genius of the interior decorator. While the rooms looked practically uninhabited, they were really quite splendid, with plush white carpets and thick, opulent drapes. He did not look into the kitchen as he passed it by, his attention being quite committed to the living space, which was really just as well. Beside the sofa he stopped, feeling a little uncomfortable about sitting down in the house of a stranger: he had never felt at home in such a situation, even when specifically instructed to do so. The fact the sofa was cream and Monty was wearing a jacket from the nineteenth century did not help his case.

The professor had just opened his mouth to accept the offer of tea when a most peculiar sound attracted his attention. He turned at once to the kitchen, where upon a counter had been piled nothing other than enormous hunks of raw meat. It was everywhere; in bags, by the sink, and, apparently, now the floor. The contrast to the bright white surroundings, added to the fact Alessio looked like a serial killer, did something to Monty's stomach, and he lifted a hand to his mouth in an attempt to conceal the fact he'd gagged. "Sorry," he said, turning away both from the kitchen and Alessio. Really, he ought to have run the heck away, but suddenly he was panicked, and could think of nothing more than finding a convenient place in the spotless house to vomit. "Sorry. What is that?"

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

He couldn't quite bring himself to blame the man. It was hard to not find meat falling onto plastic covered floors unnerving, and he looked at exactly what Monty could see. The kitchen was open enough to have everything in view, from his work station to everything that had yet to be washed and bagged, and the sight was not exactly pretty. Upon realising that he could see everything, there was little he could do to repair the situation beyond try and comfort the man in the hopes that he would dirty his floor. Mister Pendleton certainly looked sick, and if he had a weak stomach, this just wasn't going to work. He offered him a pot plant, as he wasn't sure he wanted to withdraw his wand before the man in his current state - Merlin knew what he was thinking. But he had to fix the man, quickly.

"I'm terribly sorry you had to see this, you caught me at an awkward time," he explained, most reasonably. "I was just in the middle of organising food for my thestrals when you arrived. I had hoped to distract you with tea before you found their... somewhat unsightly meal. They eat raw meat, and it is easier to feed them with handfuls, rather than throwing the meat untreated for them to rip at." Hoping that this was a good enough explanation, he shuffled his feet a little uncomfortably. "Are you okay, Mister Pendleton?"
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[Monty Pendleton]

Monty took the pot plant, praying Alessio would deliver a reasonable explanation for the kitchen crime scene before he needed to use it. He wasn't so much afraid that the man was a serial killer - he was quite capable of defence and apparation - as that he had just laid eyes on one of his victims, but, fortunately, after what felt like an eternity, he explained that he was merely preparing to feed his thestrals. "Oh, thank Merlin," he exhaled, though his stomach was still considerably unsettled. It was oftentimes a curse to sicken so easily, no more so than whilst in the company of New Zealand's Cleanliest Man. He nodded, hoping that he might be able to convince himself. "I'm so sorry," he said again, finally sitting down, because he was a little shaken. "For a moment there I thought... well, never mind now. I do apologise. Thank you." He finally worked up the courage to place the pot plant back down beside the sofa, realising only then exactly what Alessio had just told him. He owned thestrals. Those magnificent creatures that he had never before seen, but that had donated the tail hair inside his very wand.

Monty shifted in his seat, residual adrenaline causing his hands to shake. "Um - please could I - trouble you - that tea?"

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

Alessio watched closely and the man began to settle down, relieved that he didn't throw up everywhere, and that his first response was to ask for an explanation, rather than go on the offensive and just ruin Alessio's day. He gave a quick look at the portrait on the wall to see if Taimi had yet stirred, but the response he got was a quick shake of the head, and he returned his attention to Mister Pendleton. "There is no need to apologise," he assured him, though he was immensely grateful for the apology, regardless. "It was a sound conclusion." He still looked a little shaken, but he supposed that that was to be expected upon apparently stumbling into a crime scene of rather awful proportions.

"Of course." Tea made everything better, in the Italian's opinion, and he entered the kitchen to clean up the 'crime scene' as quickly as possible, throwing on his apron and gloves to pack everything away in a less than satisfactory method, and store it to finish later - he had a guest to attend to. Apron and gloves removed and cleaned, he sought to the tea, bringing out a silver tray with an assortment of biscuits on the side should he want them. He placed the tray down and began adding sugar to his own cup whilst it stirred itself. "How do you take your tea, Mister Pendleton?"
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[Monty Pendleton]

Though there was no wall to divide him from Alessio, Monty was grateful for the moment alone to compose himself. He tried not to listen to the sound of seventy kilos of raw meat being cleaned away, instead closing his eyes and resting his face in his hands. When Mr. Lichester eventually returned with a tray of tea and biscuits, he had almost fully relaxed, though he appreciated the tea to settle his stomach all the same. "Uh, milk, one sugar, please. Thank you." When his tea was ready he picked it up and took a sip, the liquid warming him instantaneously. He wondered if, like everything else in the house, the tea leaves were a fancy kind Monty could never have afforded.

After a moment the Potions Professor placed his tea back down and withdrew from his pocket the object he had come here to discuss: a moving picture of Arvo and his family. The snapshot had been taken the previous Christmas, and showed the part-goblin stood before a fireplace surrounded by his children, friends, and loving wife. Everybody had been a little tipsy (everybody of age, that was), but it was a holiday to be recalled fondly - which was exactly why Monty had chosen to have it painted. He smiled as he offered the picture to Alessio. "Here's the photo," he said. "If you wouldn't mind, I do have one or two requests to make. The lighting was unfortunately rather poor, you see. Arvo, for instance - er, second from the left - yes, well, he's at least two inches shorter than this particular photograph suggests." Monty was quite clearly joking, but the request was absolutely serious.

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

Alessio made the necessary adjustments to Mister Pendleton's tea, adding the milk and one sugar, before it began stirring itself. He felt a lot more comfortable as things began returning to business, however, as his client retrieved the photograph he had mentioned in his letter. Alessio placed his cup down silently, and accepted the photo with a thank you and examining it. The lighting was rather poor, with unflattering shadows lingering on the people's faces in the photograph, ageing a good majority of them well beyond their years. That could be fixed, fortunately, as he would be making a copy from his own hand, rather than tampering with the actual photograph.

He looked up with a certain degree of confusion at the comment of the man's height, however, as he found such an assumption inaccurate - the shadow was bad, but it wouldn't shave two inches off of the therapy tiny gentleman. It was then that he spotted the man's grin, and his cheeks twitched in a gentle, barely noticeable smirk. "Are you sure he can afford such a loss?" he asked, leaning for his tea to have another sip. "I will endeavour to paint the portrait to your specifications, However, if he should dislike it, I will say that it is entirely on your head, Mister Pendleton."
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[Monty Pendleton]

Monty caught the twitch of Alessio's cheek, and his own grin grew ever wider. "Oh, I'm positive it won't be a burden," he said certainly. "And I'm quite willing to accept all responsibility for the alterations. Ah, but as a matter of fact I haven't quite finished." Monty leaned in a little to point out another figure in the photograph. "That rather dashing fellow on the end, there - yes, the one with the striking resemblance to myself - contrary to what that poor, poor lighting may depict, he's really only in his mid-thirties. I don't suppose you could manage to illustrate that, could you?" Monty picked up his tea and took another sip, because otherwise he was going to start howling.

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

It was rather uncommon for him to receive instructions of this kind, and now it was clear to him why the gentleman had to see him in person to explain them, rather than trusting to convey his meaning through a letter. It was clear to both of them that Mister Pendleton was not in his mid-thirties, though could possible pass for his late thirties. It was a simple matter to remove lines here and soften a painting there to hide someone's age, however, and whilst Monty's reddening face suggesting that he was joking, the Italian decided he'd do it anyway. It wouldn'tbe especially difficult to de-age the man. "I'll see what I can do, Mister Pendleton. We cannot have anyone misrepresented," he responded, a small smile growing.

They conversation wandered along the lines of business until their tea was finished, with the occasional diviation to Monty's occupation and Alessio's thestrals. When it came to paint charming, there were a few commitments that the client would have to follow - such as instilling personality into the portraits, and their general maintenance and upkeep. Price was also mention, as it was best to discuss it sooner rather than later. They finished their tea and what remained of the biscuits were returned to the kitchen, and he began collecting their empty teacups.

"Ways there anything else you needed, Mister Pendleton?" He felt that they had covered all important topics, but now was the chance to allow his client to add anything else to his commission before he took his notes away and worked out a schedule to have it complete.
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[Monty Pendleton]

By the time discussions of the painting were wrapped up, Monty had almost forgotten about the incident upon his arrival. Almost, but not quite: he would not have been a Ravenclaw had he not been curious about these thestrals Alessio had spoken of. Indeed, he steered the conversation in their direction several times in the hopes that Mr. Lichester might offer to show them to him, but alas his hints were either ignored or unnoticed. As the paint-charmer collected away the tea Monty rose to his feet, using his wand to clean away any crumbs for which he was responsible. This was his last chance to ask. Would it be terribly rude? He might never chance upon such a wonderful opportunity again.

"Actually," he said, sheepishly, "and I do hope you won't consider me presumptuous... but by any chance would you allow me to see your thestrals? I only ask to as a matter of curiosity. My wand, you see - its core is a thestral tail hair, only I've never been so fortunate to see one for myself. I hasten to add that I can... or, rather, could. I-I'm sorry. Please, just tell me to leave..."

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

With things cleaned up, the Italian was content with his client leaving and going back to his day. However, Mister Pendleton asked to see the thestrals, and the Italian coudn't say that he was completely against the idea. He was rather protective of his thestrals, as people still had many misconceptions about them with regards to their death omens and disturbing eating habits. However, from their conversation, he deemed Mister Pendleton reasonable enough to not subscribe to the same beliefs - especially when he mentioned his wand core. There were many things said about such a core, most that the Italian disregarded as mere rumour, but it did speak well for the wizard in front of him, and he inclined his head.

"No, no there is no need to apologise," he assured him. "One would not expect to find thestrals here, and they are not exactly easy to find in the wild. I am willing to show them to you, but if you have not seen them before and can see them, I should warn you that they can have a somewhat disturbing appearance if you're not used to them." In fact, even his own husband was terrified of the creatures, and whilst he was very superstitious, Alessio was sure part of the reason was because they were rather unattractive. "Have you seen a painting, or some other image of them, at least?"
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[Monty Pendleton]

Monty's shoulders visibly softened. "Yes, many times," he said truthfully, an electric shiver travelling up his spine. He'd read books on magical beasts cover to cover, and whilst they had never interested him quite so much as charms or potions, he would never decline the opportunity to learn more about them. Thestrals, naturally, were of a particular interest to him, the core of his wand being from the tail of one. Whatever the chances of him stumbling across a thestral-owner were had to be incredibly slim. "Oh, the meat," Monty said suddenly, realising his earlier reaction to a repulsive sight must be why Alessio was hesitant to introduce him to the creatures. "Really, I'll be quite all right. It's just, er... lots of raw meat, and... blood, that makes me feel unwell."

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

Well, that was a relief. Considering his reaction to a little bit of meat (okay, enough to look suspiciously like an amount similar to what could be taken from an average sized male), the Italian wanted to ensure that he would not be needing to offer another potted plant for sacrifice to Monty's apparently questionable constitution. It was just to the sight of the kitchen, and seeing as the thestrals would survive without being fed immediately, he deemed it best to leave the sight of the kitchen behind them. Ushering Monty (politely) to his feet, the older gentleman was guided out of the home. By the front door, his shoes had been returned to him for the walk ahead, with Alessio only pausing return to his smallest daughter and wrapped her in a sleeve to continue his sleeping whilst propped against his chest.

He offered Monty a short introduction to the snoozing baby, before moving through the back of the property. If Monty thought the front yard were unsettling, the backyard was more so surely. There were small pebbled paths leading off in various directions - one to an outdoor seating area, another to a very well structured vegetable garden. There was a pot of well-tended fanged geraniums, the grass was clearly well cared for, and Alessio looked out at the pebbled path before them, leading towards the line of kauri trees whilst the heart-shaped leaves of bracken ferns licked at his ankles as he passed by. Apparently, these were all that was permitted within the yard to have no apparent structure to them, effectively alienated from the rest of the controlled and sculpted landscape. That was, until one noticed how neatly they lined the tracks, even if they overhung just a little.

He placed a soothing hand on the baby whenever she stirred from the gently undulating terrain, before manoeuvring his way through the thick kauri trunks, avoiding their shed mounds of bark pooling around the bottom of their trunks with the grace of a man that knew exactly where he was going. Unlike the tamed yard behind them, the woodlands they were currently trekking through were wild, and not even Alessio could manage to wrangle a tamed path. He had been trying, but the forest floor was quickly scattered with fallen branches as the kauri trees discarded them whenever they saw fit. It was a woefully disorganised forest, with the occasional animal dropping and wildly growing fern wrestling with his feet as he walked - but they eventually reached what was looking to be the beginning of a clearing. To most, the clearing was empty, with merely a well placed stream and suspiciously shifting grass. To the wizards, however, there before them stood Alessio's herd of thestrals.
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[Monty Pendleton]

At the introduction of Alessio's baby, Monty felt his last trace of concern fall away. The man was, after all, certainly unlikely to murder him with a child in his arms. The Professor grinned at this ridiculous thought - Alessio was a little unusual, but certainly no serial killer - and stepped out onto the sunlit patio, shielding his eyes with his hand as he followed the man down one of the many pebbled paths that stretched off toward every corner of the garden. Once beneath the shelter of the trees he lowered his hand, no longer finding himself surprised by the perfect order of the flowers, or the invisible but distinct line to which the shrubbery ran perfectly parallel. It was a vast garden - larger than his own - and so beautiful that for a short moment he nearly forgot he was on his way to see thestrals.

The further toward the clearing the men drew, the more unruly the undergrowth became, until it was clear to Monty that even Alessio had had to admit defeat. He picked his way through the roots and ferns until finally they arrived before the herd. Monty stopped, standing silently at the edge of the clearing. They were beautiful. Fascinating. Majestic. Alerted to the men's presence, an elder thestral lifted its head to watch them, dappled sunlight dancing on its skeletal frame. Deciding them to be no threat, it turned and carried on its way, bronzed hooves scuffing the dry earth. "Wow," whispered Monty, gazing out across the glade. Alessio was quickly becoming the object of his envy. How wonderful it must have been to keep a herd of these creatures in one's back garden. "Wow."

 

[Alessio Lichester-Raven]

By time Monty had picked up his proverbial jaw, Alessio had conjured Taimi a little umbrella hat to shield her from the sunlight as he left the covering of the trees and stepped into the open space. There was a limited amount of natural beauty as the surrounding ground had been influenced by the Italian for the protection of his herd (and his own peace of mind). He allowed his visitor several undisturbed minutes with the thestrals as he preoccupied himself with tending to his daughter, who was beginning to stir. It wasn't often that he brought her outside (not that his partner shared this philosophy), and least of all to the thestrals, whose shrill and eery cries were beginning to fill the forest as their feeding time came closer. Knowing that it wasn't best to break routine, especially with already having compromised Taimi's sleeping schedule. "We should be returning," he informed Monty diplomatically, not wanting to 'command' his cooperation, but completely expecting it regardless. He didn't doubt the man would follow him, however, and set about returning to his home through the catastrophe that was this grove.

As soon as they were back in the house, Alessio's first action was to put Taimi down again, and once she was settled enough to be left alone, he was back to attempting to shoo out his guest. He had had enough communication for one day, and his partner would be back in just over an hour - he wanted needed time to recuperate. With a fussy baby, it was hard to find down time, and his guest was beginning to start cutting into that. Entering the lounge room once more, Alessio stood beside Monty to allow easy ability for him to guide the gentleman back out of his house. "I will get to your commission promptly, Mister Pendleton," he assured him first off, before getting down to business. "Was there anything else you needed?"
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