|Scene Title||The Shamblethorne Irony|
|Synopsis||Sneaking out to hide out at the closest place to home available, Siobhan runs into the closest thing she has to family here.|
|Date||December 20, 1994|
|Watch For||Irony and Random Hugs|
|Logger||The BAD WOLF herself|
It is early night, the sun having just dipped below the tree-line to the west of town, and most people are settling in to their homes for the evening. Ichabod is used to being awake when everyone else is asleep (or getting ready to be), so he doesn't bat an eye at how deserted the little cobblestone road looks as he makes his way through the village. He's headed towards the woods at the moment - it's a Hunting Night - and is in a rather jovial mood because of that. At least as jovial as he tends to get. The old fellow taps his cane merrily on the hard surface of the road as he goes, whistling a jaunty toon to the beat of his footfalls. 'Torchwood Offices' gets a sidelong glance - he has of course noted the establishment previously, and smirks just a little at the irony of the situation. Not that anybody currently alive (aside from himself) would be likely to get the 'joke'.
Siobhan certainly doesn't get the joke, but she doesn't really have to. Hood pulled up to cover her bright hair, she slips from front door, turning to lock it behind her. She's had the good sense to use a Notice-Me-Not charm, but if Ichabod is staring Right At Her, he's probably not going to miss her. Once the door is latched, she slips the key into an inside pocket and touches fingertips against the doorframe, smiling sadly at the last touch of the wards against her magic. Still, she cannot linger long - she's overstayed already - and whirls around to start her trek back up to the castle… Only to come face to face with Ichabod. Oops.
The Notice-Me-Not charm works, for the most part; since Ichabod /is/ looking right at the shop momentarily, he does see someone coming out the front door, but doesn't pay them much heed. Just a customer or daytime employee leaving, surely. But when Siobhan nearly careens into him, he's forced to stop quite quickly and stare down at her, which brings her features into clearer focus and negates the effects of the charm. His steely gray eyes narrow at her, and he frowns. "Young lady, shouldn't you be in—" He'd probably been about to accuse her of playing hookie - not that he really cares - but then seems to notice something else about her, and pauses thoughtfully. "Pardon my curiousity, but may I ask why you were in that office, just now?"
Staring up into steely grey eyes, Siobhan swallows nervously. She does her best to suppress the shiver of irrational fear that races up her spine, but is only partly successful. "I um…" She narrows her eyes in turn, scrutinizing him carefully. "That depends." There's open suspicion in her voice and her right hand flexes around empty air. "Who's askin'?"
Not seeming particularly surprised by the girl's reaction to him, Ichabod politely takes a step back - to give her a bit more breathing room - and smiles a thin, cool little smile. "Ichabod Noble at your service, young lady." He doesn't add anything else, merely awaiting her reaction, suspecting that it should be enough to tell him what he wants to know about her.
Breath catching in her throat at his answer, Siobhan swallows thickly, staring at him in something akin to awe. Very slowly, a smile spreads across her face, becoming a full-fledged, million-watt grin. That distance he gave her a moment ago is voided as she runs the two steps needed to crash into him with a Big Hug. Sorry, Ichabod. In times of stress, Sio's first instinct is to be with Family and, when all else fails, to find Family. "I am really glad to see you." Odd duck, this Siobhan Noble.
Ichabod arches a brow at the girl's expression. He opens his mouth slowly in preparation to say something, but is interrupted by her suddenly launching herself forward at him and… hugging him. He's never been much of a hugger, and it's been a couple hundred years since the last time he can remember receiving one, so he understandably appears to be somewhat taken aback. If he hadn't practiced resisting the urge to drink human blood for the past two centuries, this would probably be a Very Bad Moment. As it is, he's acclimated enough to frequent contact with others to just feel - well, slightly alarmed. Briefly, his face freezes in a disbelieving stare. Eventually he cautiously sets a hand on her back and pats her a few times, which is probably about as cuddly-wuddly as he's likely to get. "I presume you are Siobhan, then, and Icarus has already… mentioned me to you?"
Siobhan doesn't seem to mind the awkwardness; in fact, she doesn't even seem to be aware of it. She's a naturally affectionate person. She touches people; that's just what happens. Still, it doesn't stop her nose wrinkling up in distaste. "Sio. I'm Sio, yeah. An' why does everyone call him Icarus? His name's Jack." She grins a little wider then, squeezing Ichabod once before pulling back. "An' yeah, he mentioned you. Had me look you up, actually." She blushes a little then. "I'd heard of you anyway. Or, well, read about you. Not many of us are Slytherin anymore." Of the family, that is. A thought seems to strike her. "What're you doin' here, anyhow?"
"Icarus is his proper name," Ichabod replies matter-of-factly, though he seems somewhat amused by her demeanor. "Sio, then. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that he took the initiative to find out as much as possible so quickly - he's a smart boy." 'Boy' to him, anyway. With cautious gentleness he disentangles himself from her grasp so that he can look at her with more scrutiny, studying her face and committing it to memory. This would be the first time he's actually seen her in person, after all, despite the fact that he tends to extraneously keep track of the remnants of his family where possible. "A Slytherin, then. You know, that makes you a bit of a throwback…" He chuckles wryly and considers her question carefully, finally deciding that she can handle the reality of the matter. And it might make her think twice about any sudden hugging in the future. "I live near here, actually - and I was off to the woods, to… have some dinner."
"He's brilliant." Sisterly pride and a fierce love can be heard in the surety of her statement. His next comment earns him a confused look, her head tilting to one side as her nose wrinkles in confusion. "A throwback? What's that?" Brown eyes flick from Ichabod to said woods to Ichabod again. Siobhan - while nowhere near as booksmart as Ali or as intelligent as Jack - is clever. Bounce and sudden brilliance come into play as her lips form a very tiny 'o'. "That…would explain an awful lot, yeah…" Shrugging, she forges on, as concerned as if he'd just told her he was a Leo or a Capricorn. "I thought you'd maybe been lookin' for Jack." There's a clenching of her jaw then. "You work for the Ministry, right?"
Ichabod chuckles again at her question and clears his throat. "Ah… a throwback is someone whose traits have 'skipped generations', as they say - we Nobles used to be quite Slytherin and very proud of the fact, you know." Her reaction to his blunt explanation seems to be quite level-headed, and he approves of that; apparently she isn't Slytherin for nothing. As he goes on, he inconspicuously slips a hand into the pocket of his coat and withdraws his wand so that he can place a Muffliato charm on them. There doesn't appear to be anybody out and about, but one can never be too careful. "I do work for the Ministry, yes - not that I believe the official story about the.. recent incident involving Icarus."
"Ah. A throwback, you said?" Something to impress Alistaire with next time she sees him. As he withdraws his wand, Siobhan tenses, but she doesn't protest. The charm is a sensible one and if he wanted to hurt her, he would have done so by now, right? Mention of the 'official story' brings thunderclouds over her expression. "That's because it's a load of shite," she fairly spits. "Those Dementors attacked them. If they hadn't run, they'd be dead." Or worse. "No offense, Unlce Icha, but the Ministry's gone to hell lately." Oh…oh my. Ichabod's been stuck with a Nickname. He's in, now.
"Indeed," Ichabod replies succinctly. He looks mildly surprised by the bluntness of her opinion about the story in question, but definitely not offended. "Attacked them, you say? That… is very troubling. I've never heard of Dementors 'attacking' anyone in groups. That would entail that either the Ministry instructed them to do such, or that they were acting on their own, which is preposterous. Unless they were acting on the orders of someone else…" His voice trails off, and he doesn't bother finishing that thought. One of his eyebrows twitches when he's bestowed with the nickname, but he stoically refrains from complaining. "So it would seem. Do you have any word of whether Icarus is safe and in good health?" And he pointedly doesn't ask where he is, since he doesn't need to know.
"There were hundreds of them. The only one with that much control over those terrible things is the Minister." Siobhan's normally pretty voice is twisted with anger. "Or, in this case, the Acting Minister." She misses the eyebrow twitch, but does catch the question. Her lower lip is pulled between her teeth, worried between them as she hesitantly considers. "It's nothin' against you… S'just… She's authorized Cruciatus for the search an'…" And she doesn't want to risk anyone, whether that be Ichabod or Jack himself. "The last I heard, he was fine." There's worry plain in her dark eyes. "But… That was a while back."
Acting Minister. Ichabod snorts, which is a fairly good summary of his opinion about /that/ person, and shakes his head. "Your concern is understandable, and I don't want to know anything that would endanger you or your brother. But it's good to know he's in good health." For the time being, anyway. The old man clears his throat again. "Of course, I would offer him what aid I could, should I happen to get the chance. But as I do not intend to attempt locating him myself, I'm afraid it's a moot point." Unless somebody else should pass it along for him, hint hint. "At any rate… it is getting rather late in the evening for you to be out and about, is it not… Sio? You /do/ have classes in the morning, if I'm not mistaken."
Siobhan nods once, a hint of a smile relaxing her expression. She'll pass along word for certain. As soon as she gets the chance. Ichabod's concern is waved off with a casual dismissal. "Don't sleep much anyway." At least lately. "You live here in Hogsmeade? You know, in case I could come down for a visit…" Or pass on information. She just doublechecks, gathering up the courage she needs to venture her next question. "Er…maybe you'd know, workin' there an' all, but um… How much power does the Ministry have over Hogwarts and what goes on there?"
"That makes two of us," Ichabod quips dryly, smiling just a bit at his own little jest. "Yes, I live quite close by. You might have heard of a place called 'Shamblethorne'." Which might strike her as odd, since the place in question is nothing more than an old run-down ruin, interesting only to archeologically-inclined types. He frowns thoughtfully at her question and glances in the direction of the school in the distance, staring at the towers rising into the sky while he formulates a reply. "It's hard to say. Not as much power as they'd like to think they have, I suspect. Especially as long as Albus Dumbledore remains in office. But if push came to shove…" He shrugs.
Nodding, Siobhan seems to withdraw into herself a little, lost in thought. It's not as much of an answer as she'd like, but it does confirm a few suspicions. "Shamblethorne…" She commits it to memory. "But that's - " The absolute absurdity of her objections hits her square in the face as she remembers just what her uncle happens to be. "Huh. That's a bit of irony, then, in'nit?" She glances back up towards the school, where a few lights can just be made out in one of the towers; feeble beacons in the swiftly-approaching darkness. "Oh," she turns back to Ichabod as another random thought occurs. "I've got to go, but you should come to Mum's New Year's party. It's over the Christmas hols and the whole family will be there." There's a subtle question there, perhaps as to why he hasn't been there before. But, by the very nature of a subtle question; it is easily overlooked.
"Irony, yes. But I find the privacy convenient," Ichabod explains, watching her gaze go to the school momentarily. "If you ever happen to need me, just tell the statue your name." He appears to be somewhat skeptical of an invitation to any sort of family function, but nods nonetheless. "Well.. we'll see." He's not going to give any promises at this point, apparently, but he won't openly say no, either. It'll require some thought.
"The statue?" Siobhan looks confused for a moment, but shrugs and nods. "A statue, right. Thank you!" Turning back to the school, she sees a flash of white cross the sky and starts to head back towards the castle, turning to call back to him over her shoulder, "I'll tell Mum to expect you!" Seems she takes his answer as a yes then. Such is the way of Sio.