» Oops!, Noelle - but open to others too. :)

[Petal]

It was warm, budding evening and the damp clouds of early afternoon had begun to dissipate, allowing rays of sunset to cast upon the already thriving carnival. What made this part of the day even sweeter was that Petals master had left her caravan to join the other burlesque dancers for rehearsal, leaving her house elf to her own devices. Of course, before exiting Miss Morgan’s abode, she had swept, dusted and polished everything there was to be done but was not asked to do – a good sign of a healthy house elf.

Sometimes on these evenings, if it was a bit too chilly round the ankles, Petal would reside in the caravan until Jezabella returns, interfering with her possessions in marvel and curiosity – hours would go by of just staring at a bottle of perfume. Not tonight, however. Petal was going to indulge in one of her favourite leisure time hobbies and hopefully not get under any carnival goers feet in the process.

The field they had parked and set up on for the duration of the summer solstice must have actually been a meadow – nowhere else had Petal come across so many little pockets and spruces of wild flower. In the past, only the outskirts around their carnival base she had gone flower picking, but luckily, this summer it was common to find a selection of Marjoram posies under the front steps! Petal delighted in going about her everyday work and spotting pretty spots for flower picking, in fact she made mental notes to return to them later that day if there was a break in her chores.

It was when she was ensuing one of these carefully remembered mental notes that she found herself following an almost endless trail of flowers, and she was entirely unsure of where they would take her. Hopefully not trouble. She crawled under benches, round stalls, across tents without bothering a single human – until approximately half past seven.

She was so immersed in her chase that she had accidently plucked the most beautiful white rose from atop a seemingly very expensive summer hat. Thankfully, she realised her serious mistake before she could steal the rest, for then whoever owned it would have a noticeably plainer bonce. What caused this misunderstanding was that the bonnet was left alone, sitting on an unused bench in the carnival grounds. Petal was thoroughly shocked it hadn’t been thieved already…in fact, Miss Morgan would look awful dainty in such headwear. She picked up the hat, but not before a shadow of a most likely confused witch loomed over her.

Oh, but she was really, really desperate for such a fine hat for her master! It was too late now, she’d have to panic, she’d have to turn round and feel a back hand across her clammy house elf face for her cretin-like attempt at thievery! Oh no, it would take at least five minutes to put this back exactly as she found it, angled just so it looked like her grubby grass stained mitts had never touched the damn thing! Petal turned, hat in hand, eyes staring wide at the young witch.

“Petal was just looking! Petal was just looking!”

[Noelle Selwyn]

Noelle had left her hat on a bench, and when she remembered exactly where she had left it, she had returned to the bench to pick it up, but even from a distance she could see a house-elf picking the white rose, the center of her hat. without thinking any further of it, she quickly walked the rest of the way to the bench.

when she got to the bench, she just looked at the house-elf, waiting for an explanation, even though it wasn't her own family house-elf, she wasn't afraid of telling the house-elf off.

when the house-elf turned with her hat in her hand, she looked hard at the house-elf, no one, especially not a house-elf she didn't know and didn't know what it had touched last, should touch her hat.

"If you just were looking, then why is it in your filthy little hands, and where is the white rose?" she said with a low but strong voice. Noelle had been tought never to let anyone under her stand think they were able to touch her stuff with out her exact permission.

[Petal]

“In most young house elves, there is a fault that causes them to severely struggle at apparating in high stress situations. This is an unfortunate flaw in purchasing one in its youth, and is accompanied by many other equally impractical issues. “– Housing your House Elves

Petal quivered in fear – she had been scolded plenty before by Jezabella Morgan, but never questioned. Oh, goodness. In fact the only question that wasn’t an order Petal has heard directed at her has been “What kind of jam is there in the pantry?” – But that was a question Petal knew the answer to (It was pumpkin and peach – and it was actually a chutney). She didn’t really know the answer to this one.

"If you just were looking, then why is it in your filthy little hands, and where is the white rose?"

The question echoed in her ears, and for a moment she was frozen, like a rabbit in the lamplight of a farmer, or more fittingly, a thief stilled in the dazzle of a well-aimed stupefy. Why is it in her filthy little hands? Where is the white rose? She came back to consciousness, wide eyes piercing down at what she was holding. It was the hat. Yes. It was a hat. Why was she holding the hat? She wanted her master to have the hat. Where is the white rose that was on the hat? She didn’t have it. Had it fallen on the ground in her panic? Did this young witch want it back? Her little bald head swayed this way and that as she thought of all the problems she was currently facing.

“Petal… Petal… does not know. Petal knows not!” she looked back up at the witch, shaking her scatty bonce this way and that until she got a little teary eyed.

The poor house elf didn’t want any trouble to be directed back to her beautiful, infallible master, so she bit her lip after calming down, and placed the hat back on the bench. Petal needn’t say anything about why she was holding that – nothing at all. This witch wasn’t her master – she couldn’t tell her what to do in the slightest! If she so wanted she could pick this hat right back up an apparate back to her master! However… she did recall that recent lecture that went along the lines of “Petal, if you thieve things, it gets linked back to me! You can’t do that anymore – because you’re so terrible at it! Do you understand?”. Petal nodded strangely to herself as her masters words sounded in her mind. She was not to get Jezabella Morgan in trouble.

As for this white rose this witch was inquiring about, and she assumed would not cease inquiring about until found, Petal wondered whether it had fallen beneath the bench. Still a little shaky, her head hung low in embarrassment and fear; she ducked down to take a look. Her little spindly fingers were crossed as a superstitious charm to help her acquire the flower.

[Noelle Selwyn]

Noelle quickly got annoyed at the little house-elf. Right there she was close to explode because it wasn’t her family house-elf, so she couldn’t order the elf to punish herself. ”Keep your hands of it, I might as well burn it now.” she said annoyed. But because she loved the hat quite much, she took it and started looking for the white rose. If she didn’t find the rose, the hat would be worthless to her. The white rose was the only she had wanted in the hat when she found it and bought it.

Even though it didn’t seem like something Noelle would do, she started looking for the white rose, she wouldn’t even consider using magic to turn another flower into a white rose for her hat, it wouldn’t be the same, not to her at least. ”Well, look for the flower, you’re the one that took it from the hat and then lost it.” she said hard, not even bothering to ask nicely, it was just a house-elf, a simple creature against her superior knowledge.

[Petal]

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear oh dear oh dear, oh dear. This young woman was certainly one of the least pleasant young women Petal had ever found the misfortune of ruffling, and the house elf had managed to accidently ruffle many a Hogsmeade lady during her stay at the carnival, to the displeasure of her ever-enduring master. If she was to create yet another kerfuffle with yet another young debutante over a case of thievery without resolving it, Jezabella Morgan would not be best pleased, not best pleased at all! Oh bother, oh bother. Where was it? Where could it be? Stupid Petal. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Petal!

She was a cretin, nothing but a worthless, disgusting, repulsive, unloved cretin! No humans ever liked her, not a single human was ever forgiving of her little mistakes! Petal deserved to be locked up in Azkaban for her sordid crimes of theft! They would, they would lock her up in Azkaban if she couldn't find this white rose the young witch was now looking for. And would she really burn the hat because it had been in a grubby house elves grasp? Was Petal truly that horrid? Oh, she just felt like sitting down and having a little weep. The stress was all a bit too much. Petal just wanted to find flowers! Petal just wanted to find flowers!

Jezabella would have loved that hat, and the little house elf sniffed as she thought that to herself. For it to be in the hands of such a cruel women was the highest false-advertising the little creature had ever seen. People would think she looks sweet and nice with such a light bonnet. They'd be wrong! It was like when younger burlesque dancers stuffed their breast with bags of jelly, or a little flower is so colourful, but once picked a dozen baby bugs crawl across the stem and onto the victim’s fingers. It was like the common incident of a human talking civilly to another human, but upon addressing a sub-human creature like Petal, has enough venom in his voice to challenge a snake. Humans! Humans! They could be horrid!

This young witch had taken the hat anyway, though it was quite loosely in her grasp. There was still a chance the little creature could pounce and pocket the bonnet, apparating to safety upon doing so. However, what was the point without the fine rose that was atop it? No point at all. Petal, now with a strong flare of disobedience and sense of injustice unlike she had ever felt before, grimaced at being addressed by this nasty human. It wasn't the fact that this young witch failed to include a please, but that she felt she had authority over the little house elf - it was not the case! For once in Petals life, she was going to rebel! She would only do what her masters say, not what a mean, horrible, nasty - oh dear.

Petal felt a soft squidgy under her nippy toes, but with an almost velvety feeling. She looked down, and sure enough, there was the white rose, quite mutilated by even the slightest pressure of the house elves bare feet.

[Noelle Selwyn]

Noelle started to get annoyed on the little house-elf. first of all, her favorite got ruined by the elf, and now it wouldn't even help her searching for the lost rose. "You are SO useless. don't just stand there, look for the rose." she tried once again, she really hated when someone below here didn't do as she told them to. it got even worse when it was something so low as a house-elf.

[Petal]

Oh, goodness. Oh gracious, goodness! This was quite a pickle indeed, she was indeed useless as the infuriated witch says –though how on earth was one supposed to solve such a dilemma with a young woman like her? Petal couldn’t outright say she had terribly soiled her white rose beneath her wretched little feet, for if she did she’d be in line of fire for some really rather awful insults – though she’d struggle to apologise. The little creature felt more sympathetic towards the flower she had clumsily crushed rather than the owner of it, for she very much doubted the rose had such a wrathful temper as this carnival-goer. In fact, Petal doubted flowers had tempers at all.

The little house elf lifted her soggy toes from the pressed petals of the rose, examining the extent of the damage. It was less clean and pearly as she had admired it for being previously, little brown veins running through each creased petal – it also wasn’t as full anymore. Like the pert lips of an aging lady, it was closed, buttoned, no longer in full bloom. Nevertheless, Petal managed to briefly smile at it despite the suddenly inflicted imperfections, and wished that no matter how verbally tossed about she was, she’d still be a little bit pretty, like the rose. However, that was a wish that would never truly be granted, for Petal was never pretty in the first place.

Petals eyes looked up at the frustrated human with a rather solemn countenance, as if she was about to deliver the death of a loved one. “Ma’am, I’m afraid the rose won’t look very nice on the hat no more. “ Petal squeaked, wincing pre-emptively at what would no doubt be a slaughter of insults. Though she had quite decided, if that was to truly come, she’d forgive herself for apparating. After all, this was her free time – not work time to be bossed about by nasty humans! At that naughty thought she felt a flicker of a rebellious flame in her chest, the first she had ever felt and stifled.

The little creature bent down to pick and cradle the pained rose in her grubby hands, a sway of regret moving through her chest as she begrudgingly presented it to the angry human. If flowers had feelings, they’d surely feel the same as Petal did when she was shifted to another master; sad. In this case, the white rose would be positively distraught at the change in events - no bloom would ever want to be atop such a mean, nasty human bonce! However, the white rose would not possess much more desire to sit upon Petals ugly bonce either. The little house elf frowned at the poor withered roses kerfuffle – at least, unless enchanted, it won’t have to suffer for too long. Technically, it had already passed, but nevertheless, any flower, picked or not, seemed to hold a little bit of beautiful life. Occasionally more so than a walking human.

[Noelle Selwyn]

Noelle kept looking for the white rose, but when the house-elf talked, she looked at the house-elf, and she looked at the feets of the little house-elf and recognised the white rose. "You stupid, incomplete, useless idiot. Now my hat if worthless." she yelled at the house-elf, not even caring that it may seem strange, but it was a house-elf, who wouldn't say that she was in her good right. Frustrated with the now ruined hat, she threw the hat on the ground, and wanted to do something to let out her anger, but it wasn't her house-elf, so she couldn't punish the elf, even though she really wanted to.

[Petal]

Petal had indeed, ruined the witches hat, and that was at least something the little accidental mischief maker could accept, perhaps even apologise for despite the humans ill temper. She felt guilty, but she also felt offended, embarrassed and flared by the curly heads words towards her. Stupid ? Incompetent ? Useless ? An idiot ? Petal had heard these many times before, but this time the familiar adjectives were pronounced with remarkable venom – though she was beginning to see it understandable. Petal had destroyed her hat with her un-thinking fingers. The flare of rebellion was dying, Petal was giving in to the human’s intimidation, and per usual, her master would hear of this.

“Petal is sorry for the inconvenience.” she squeaked, head hung low in shame. How could such a ridiculous creature as her claim rebellion, or fine feelings and airs such as independence? Whether this tyrant was her master or not, she was racially higher than the cretinous house elf, and it was all too true that Petal would always be under the hand of the witches and wizards, wherever she went. The widow of the beautiful hat hadn’t yet asked to speak to Petals master, as was usually when the little creature got under peoples feet, but she seemed boiled up. Riled. She was a kettle desperate to let off its steam, but something was holding down fast on the lid latch, a moral perhaps. Not keeping her from whistling, but not letting even a slight cloud of hot air out. If the arguably awkward silence kept on, Petal could even consider it admirable.

The hat had been thrown on the ground, where the instant contact with the dirt spoiled it further, the mud almost reaching out to its brim in an ugly embrace. The bright blue of it contrasted from the murky brown. It didn’t belong there; it didn’t want to be in such an unfortunate position. Much like the human perhaps didn’t want to be surrounded by so much filth such as Petal. Because Petal was filth, petal was terrible filth! But inside, Petal always felt clean, clear of conscience and deeply depressed by her swamped situation in which all the injustices and means of the world crowd, attack her every day. Maybe she was the crisp blue, light hat, and humans were the sordid sea around her. Society!

It was strange how many thoughts and feelings could be mingled and stitched into the turn of events that led them to present, what really, was quite a minuscule occurrence. Yet the witch had reacted, and Petal had reacted, both in very sad and character defining ways, drawing lines and parallels over what was originally a clean, sharp situation. Humans were cruel, House elves were silly – these situations will always come to fruition as the most uncomfortable. Petal would have to think up a way to perhaps leave these strange ties and hide, run away – she could apparate. And would the human follow up, report the crime scene, the murder of her precious hat? Petal, at this point, had little care of the consequences.

Tag: Noelle | Words: 518| Notes: trolol

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[Noelle Selwyn]

Noelle could have killed Petal right there, but she took some deep breaths and calmed down. She wanted to find something to do, so wanted to have a good time, and now it was ruined because of the little house-elf. "You should be SO happy that you don't work for my family, or you would be finished now. give my ONE good reason why I shouldn't tell all my friends what little thieves are running around here. How many people do you think would come then?" She said with an ice voice.

[Petal]

The kettle seemed to have been brought to boil, huff and puffs of hot air escaping the spout, whistling wilder than ever. The witch was breathing deeply, as if something pressed on her chest – no doubt it was the mourning of a pretty hat, or the presence of an ugly house elf responsible for the death of such a lovely bonnet. Whatever it was, Petal could only nod and agree. This rant and rave was deserved – she was a bad elf. A terrible, terrible elf! The cretinous murderer must suffer and take these cruel threats to heart, and apparating away wouldn’t make Jezabella Morgan any the happier.

She raised her head from the ground, looking up at the positively fuming young woman with bravery lining her chest. Petal would have to make some kind of amends, though she doubted anything would truly pleasure such a cantankerous character, for what could an ugly creature like she offer? The house elf was rather apt at arranging flowers into pleasant bouquets, and maybe a free one would put the situation somewhat correct. The nasty girl didn’t truly deserve a work of art as pretty as the piles stocked in Petals tent, but surely it would be enough to keep her from complaining about thieves such as her to a party of wealthy friends? Petal brows furrowed as her eyes met the fiery depths of the witches, and she clicked her fingers, returning approximately 2.3 seconds later, a pretty bouquet clasped in the ‘filthy’ hands.

”Petal would like to offer a free bouquet in consolation of your loss” she meekly squeaked, pressing the petals of the flowers perhaps too close to the human, thrusting it almost. One suppose she wouldn’t much take a liking to being so close quarters to such a creature, but not one could deny the peasantries of flowers. It wasn’t quite as gorgeous and crisp as the previous white rose that adorned her expensive headpiece, but it consisted of roses nevertheless. They were a warm, girlish pink hue, soft but limp when not supported. Perhaps the less pure of colour suggested sentiments towards such a temper, but hopefully she wouldn’t touch upon strange metaphors. There were other pink flowers other than roses, and she hoped she’d appreciate the slight variety.

Petal would have been envious of how the pretty blooms complimented her well coiffured curls, but she didn’t feel any attachment to the human to see her as even vaguely admirable young witch. She just wanted to give her the bouquet and have it done with, her little brain exhausted with the kerfuffle a simple flower picking trip had birthed. Yes, she felt like a horrible house elf for being as clumsy as to ruin someone’s evening, but all this shouting, ranting, accusations and threats were making her mind spin in quite the negative way. To cheer herself while awaiting the witches acceptance, she thought of the perfectly bloomed Belladonna she saw in a small creek a little while back, which would be beautiful if put incorporated into one of her unfinished bouquets.

Tag: Noelle | Words: 518 | Notes:herp

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[Noelle Selwyn]

Noelle looked hard down at the house-elf, noticing how pretty the new bouquet was, a lovely mix of roses and other flowers who all looked fragile and soft. "And where did you steal those?" she asked with a hard voice, not even thinking about taking the bouquet. She wished she had someone to help her in this case, she felt alone and to avoid projecting this, she acted hard and icy.

[Petal]

Too tired to affront the accusation or boast her flower arranging prowess, Petal sighed a squeaky sigh at the human, shaking her head slighty with a furrowed brow. Petal wasn’t to look the witch in the eye, her vision was that of basilisk, cold and petrifying. If the house elf was to call upon her last reserves of courage and strength, even glancing at a ferocious curl atop the witch’s bonce would be forbidden, and another assumedly ‘insolent’ sigh would certainly pull her back in the deep end of the ladies temper. So she said nothing, but turned away, placing the pink bouquet on the bench for the humans taking.

Her little brain was quite exhausted, and she could feel her bonce bounce a headache back and forth due to her extended exposure to the shrill threats and shouts. The sun was setting deeper, touching the horizon, casting tents and marquees as silhouettes. Her warm, welcoming potato sack was somewhere amongst them and she was quite inclined to return to it after checking in on her master’s needs and dumping the consolatory prize with the witch. Her movement as she approached the bench where the carelessly left bonnet had previously been situated was a rushed stumble. If the young hatless lady wants to accept the apology then she will, but is too full of pride like most humans to accept it in front of Petal. For that reason, it seemed like a good idea to simply apparate, snipping a very small sense of fulfilment from the grave fabric of the situation in the fact that she had somewhat resolved it.

Petal made very sure her spindly fingers hadn’t grazed the bouquet or bench as she apparated, and the only object touching skin was the ground beneath her feet. With that thought in mind she apparated, appearing instantly within the safe confines of her pleasant, flower-scented abode. Now out of harm’s way, she could only hope the witch had picked up the bouquet and seen it as a fair trade, opting to not spread word of thievery at the carnival, and hitherto saving Petal from a fair dose of trouble that evening. Or maybe the witch would take the bouquet and cruelly set aside her attempts at consolation, reporting the occurrence anyway? Or perhaps she simply felt disgusted by the fact the flowers had been touched by a cretinous elf, deciding it best to just walk away, not even look at them a second longer. Or maybe she left them because she had seen the errors of her loud ways, and understood that it was all just a terrible accident – though it was true Petal would have stolen it had the circumstances not consisted of the witch being close behind her.

The tuckered little creature lay flat on her back atop her potato sack, choosing not to go in it considering her master may call within the hour, and warmth accelerated the rate of drooping eyelids. Instead she just sighed, smiled and wiggled her toes against the stock pile of flowers at the bottom of her tent, uplifted with the hope the terrible situation was over if the witch chose to accept the bouquet. For who couldn’t resist such a pretty arrangement of flowers?

Tag: Noelle | Words: 546 | Notes: yaay!

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[Noelle Selwyn]

Noelle quickly looked around as the house-elf disappeared, and when it didn't came back after a few seconds, she looked around once again and when she was sure that nobody was looking at her, she took the bouquet and looked better at it. she decided to give up the fight, and just enjoy the Festival. She wouldn't say anything to anyone, an entire new and beautiful bouquet for a hat, a hat that she hopefully could get her mother convinced that she needed a new one.

(guess we're done, but I'll wait with asking for it to get moved to the finished threads until you agree)