[OPEN MINGLE] Or perhaps in Slytherin

[fulllifeconsequences]

Who: Slytherin House! (And friends and visitors, of course!)
Where: Slytherin Common Room, Quidditch Pitch, various places around Hogwarts
When: Duration of the event
Rating: G (will edit as necessary)
Summary: Slytherin open log!
The Story:



The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

The common room has changed, somewhat, from its historical description, thanks to the decorative powers of one Mettaton. Though it still extends beneath the lake and thus retains a greenish, aquatic cast, it's much more brightly lit, its cold, damp atmosphere replaced with dazzling MTT-brand warmth. Even the giant squid, occasionally peering in as it does its rounds of the lake, seems just a shade more glamorous inside such a charming space.

Students - and a ghost or two - can be found nestled within its confines, plotting mischief around the fire, studiously doing their homework (as good students do), or perhaps trading Chocolate Frog trading cards. Though Slytherin is not especially well-known for its wide-open, trusting nature, Slytherins are known for not snitching on each other; if a guest or two were to creep in for a while, then odds are, nobody saw anything.

Comments

[mettatonvevo]

[Mettaton is unceremoniously reminded of the double detention he received from Professor Toriel and his face sours.]

Yes. The poor saps in detention would love to have it to watch later, though it wouldn't be much help to them if I get sent there.

[Luckily he managed to avoid that this time around, but he is going to watch his step around Professor Toriel in the future.]

[determinedest]

[Ohhhh they recognize that expression. You forget, Mettaton - Frisk has been stuck ("stuck") in detention maybe more than any second-year has any right to be, and largely on purpose!]

Mom hit you with the old double-whammy, did she?

[Their grin is unapologetic and unrepentant and completely, utterly amused.]

[mettatonvevo]

[Mettaton pouts a little and looks away.]

It's that obvious, huh?

[He shakes his head.]

No offense to your mom, but I am clearly too advanced for her classes. All of this work with theory is going to make my wand wilt!

[determinedest]

She knows best for you.

[That's a knowing shrug and a smirk in your direction, Mettaton. Frisk has long since given up actually straight-up arguing with their mom, simply preferring to game the system whenever possible. That is to say, always.]

At least, that's what she'll keep saying!

[mettatonvevo]

Ugh, I know, that's her thing. But she doesn't know what's best for me, Frisk! If she knew what was best for me, she'd be praising my Transfiguration abilities!

[Um, Mettaton, you were literally interrupting her class and being a menace. When she called you out on it, you started transfiguring things on her desk in retaliation. You kinda deserve-]

I am a prodigy in my own right, and her theory-based teaching is holding me back!

[...Good job, Mettaton, for completely missing the point.]

[determinedest]

Theory does have its place.

[Don't go trash-talking Frisk's mom, now. Frustration they can understand, but there's no point in criticizing her methods. She's unlikely to change them, no matter how prodigal any one student might be.]

Usually to ensure no one accidentally Transfigures the bejeezus out of something important, [they add matter-of-factly, as if they'd know on a deep and personal level.]

[mettatonvevo]

[Mettaton sighs a bit irritably. Really, for a 17-year-old he shouldn't sound so whiny but then again, he IS still a teenager. He does feel a slight amount of shame having complained to his teacher's child though.]

I guess... From the sounds of it, you've caused some trouble yourself?

[determinedest]

[Frisk flashes a wide grin that just screams "yep, and ain't I a stinker on top of it!" But then they add, sagely:]

I just happen to end up in detention with my dad. So it could be worse.

[mettatonvevo]

[That brings the smile back to his face as he shakes his head in amused disbelief.]

How do your parents not have measures in place to stop you from gaming the system like this?

[determinedest]

They've tried.

[But there's one thing that a pair of trouble-making kids have at their virtually endless disposal, and that's time. And they have quite a time of it too!]

Mostly they just try to make us do gross stuff, like cleaning out the gardens and spreading hippogriff manure.

[But everyone knows it's way better to stay up late anyway, so there's no real loss there, is there?]

[mettatonvevo]

[Mettaton blanches at that, his nose wrinkling in disgust.]

Ew. You still get into trouble knowing that you'd have to do something like that? Why?

[determinedest]

Because sleeping's for losers, and staying up is fun!

[A bright snicker peels out of their throat at his expression, priceless that it is.]

[mettatonvevo]

[He snorts, picking up one of the cards from the table and flopping it around a bit. He wonders if he used that heat spell if it would fix these as well...]

You really are 12-years old. I forget that sometimes.

[determinedest]

What's to forget?

[Their smirk is artless as they kick up their feet on the table, apparently nonplussed at the charred remains of their game of Exploding Snap.]

We're not exactly tall, either of us!

[mettatonvevo]

True, but sometimes it feels like you're older than you are. The way you two carry yourselves at times makes it easy to overlook.

[He grins, reaching forward to ruffle their hair.]

Though, it's easy to overlook you, seeing as you're "not exactly tall", like you said!

[determinedest]

[Frisk snickers at the playful familiarity of it, absurdly pleased for reasons they can't fully discern. Pleased because - well, maybe because he considers them somewhat grown-up for a pair of twelve-going-on-thirteen-year-olds. Or, in Chara's case, a "twelve"-year-old.]

Flatterer, [says Frisk, sticking out their tongue, but the effect of the disparagement is immediately lost as they smirk.] You frightful old Slytherin, you.

[mettatonvevo]

[Usually Mettaton isn't so forward with his affection. He's a bit more graceful, less playful older brother, and yet he felt the urge to reach out and... really enjoy this moment. It feels final, almost, like he my never have the chance to do this again.

But that's silly. He's still got a couple of months before he graduates, after all. He's getting soft in his 7th year.]

There's a reason I was sorted into this house, darling. Same as you.

[He finishes ruffling their hair, smoothing it down a bit to make sure that it isn't too messy.]

[determinedest]

[They wish inanely for the same, without meaning to. To freeze this moment in all its transience, and hold it suspended. A pity muggle cameras don't work here. They'd love to get a photo. Frisk, for their part, simply laughs.]

Please. I was sorted here because Chara and me can't bear to be apart!

[That self-deprecating familiarity. They don't even mean to inject it into the words. It just sort of happens that way.]

[mettatonvevo]

[Magic cameras would merely repeat this sequence over and over, not freezing these exact smiles, these exact movements. It's certainly a pity.

He takes a little of their hair and absentmindedly starts to braid it.]

I'm sure that was a part of it, but even without them, you'd still deserve to be here. You're smart, cunning, and ambitious in your own way. That is just you on your own, not your relationship with Chara. You're both charming in your own, individual ways.

[determinedest]

[Even without them -

Frisk sort of stops listening after that point. It doesn't matter, though. It doesn't matter, because they don't live in a world without Chara, and never will. Chara is there and always will be.]

Okay, now I just know you're quoting the Slytherin handbook at me!

[mettatonvevo]

[Mettaton has already made three braids when Frisk protests his words. He laughs.]

Of course I am, darling. Do you know why? Because in this handbook, there's a picture of you over the definition of "Slytherin". It's very fitting.

[He idly wonders what they will get up to after he leave. They have so many years ahead of them here. He hopes he will hear from them again in the future.]

[determinedest]

Wowie. That's impressive. And I'm only a second year! How much more on the up and up can I get?

[They consider smacking his hands away, but they find they don't mind the way he's twisting their hair into playful little braids, just because. Besides, they're certain they'll look absolutely stunning once he's done, because Mettaton never does anything by half-measures.]

[mettatonvevo]

[He wasn't planning on anything intricate in the beginning; it was merely an affectionate way to continue interacting with them. But soon he finds himself thinking of ideas, and his fingers begin to weave Frisk's hair into a simple but elegant style.]

I don't quite know, but you'll have to keep me informed of whatever exploits you and your sibling get up to after I am gone. The world is going to know your names. WHAT'S YOUR NAME MAN

[Mettaton wouldn't be surprised if he heard about these two being Quidditch stars a couple of years down the line.]

[determinedest]

[That may be one of the nicest things someone's ever said to them. Someone who isn't their family, anyway. They're used to a vicious sort of fondness, a wink and a nod in their direction. This is a different sort of acknowledgment. Almost kind of a pride.

It's weird. Frisk snorts, and tries to play it off.]

What, because we end up burning down something?

[mettatonvevo]

That, or more likely, you both do something so astounding that it makes the world stand still, just for a moment.

[He finishes fiddling with their hair. It's not bound up in any fashion so if Frisk wishes, they can easily shake or comb their hair out of the braids. He's still proud of it, all the same.]

Of course when that happens, I will happily greet you at the top, having already reached there myself.