Dead Men Don't Send Owls

Featuring: Nyle Avery, Audrey Miller, Victoria Avery, Benedict (Ben/Nick) Avery

Summary: Nyle and Audrey receive mysterious owls in the handwriting of a lost loved one. A mystery is afoot!

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VICTORIA It was late in the evening, and Ms. Avery’s guests had only just departed into the night, ominous silhouettes vanishing into the shadows (provided by the scanty lamp light that lined the cobbled street outside Avery Manor). It was an impressively-sized manor house, a chilly specimen of gray stone and marbled floors. The green velvet upholstery of the parlor furniture matched the green velvet gloves Victoria wore past her elbows, her black floor-length dress sweeping over the red carpet in the foyer (as she narrowed her eyes and approached the grand staircase).

“Nyle.” She gripped at the banister with white-knuckled impatience. Her youngest son, who she’d insisted be present for the meeting that had now-concluded, was yet again nowhere to be found. She’d grown more than weary of his squeamish wriggling when it came to shirking the familial responsibilities. Now that Benedict was gone, it fell upon his younger brother to pick up the abandoned torch.

NYLE It was at that very moment when Nyle came sauntering down the steps, holding up two neckties for mother to see. ``I don’t know, Mom. I can’t decide. Which should I wear for the meeting with our death ea--sorry, ‘alt-magic’ friends?`` He raised his brows, awaiting her ever-important opinion. Nevermind the fact that both ties appeared to be nearly identical shades of black. When she didn’t respond, he furrowed his brows and examined both options in consideration. ``I don’t know. I feel like the Noir Nightfall is a little more serious, but the Greasy Crow says ‘I like a cocktail on the weekends,’ y’know?`` Pause. ``...I’ll probably just go with Greasy Crow, it’s just such a classic.`` He finally raised his eyes to his mother, and upon seeing her expression, his features nearly dropped from his face. ``Oh no.``

VICTORIA There was a sneer that crept across his mother’s crimson-tinted lips, alarming in its humorlessness. Her eyes were equally humorless as they set upon her darling Hufflepuff (BLECH!) of a son - something dangerous about the long silence and the unsettling stillness of her demeanor. “Oh, you’ve missed it,” she replied, off-handedly. “Just as you’ve managed to miss the meeting every other time I’ve requested your presence. Something always seem to delay you, doesn’t it, Nyle?” She canted her head at him, thoughtfully. “Your brother never seemed to have that problem.” In actuality, Nick had also managed to successfully evade every single one of his mother’s meetings with her friends. Victoria had a funny way of mis-remembering her precious eldest son. Despite being clad in the cushy material of her gloves, Victoria’s fingernails managed to clack mutedly against the banister as she drummed them impatiently against the wood. “Bring me my cigarettes, will you dear?” Something about the way she said the word ‘dear’ suggested it lacked the implied sentiment.

NYLE One could almost see Nyle’s brain working desperately to come up with a proper response to his mother’s thinly veiled accusations. ``Yeah, well...I like to make an impression. Ben never bothered to do that. You heard that one guy last week, the guy with the…`` He motioned with his hand towards his face, in an attempt to describe some odd facial feature. ``...Thing. He said that I was ‘vaguely memorable.’ So that’s a good thing, right? They remember me! I bet they never said that about Ben.`` No doubt. Of course, at the first word of her request, Nyle booked it down the remaining stairs, bounding across the hall and into the other room, only to return within seconds with his mother’s cigarette case in outstretched hand, like a dog told to fetch. ``Here you go, mom!``

VICTORIA Something about his desperation to retrieve her cigarettes only seemed to make her loathe him more. She took the box from his outstretched hand, retrieving a smoke from within and taking the time to press it between her lips and light it. Victoria shook out the match and enjoyed a nice, long drag from her cigarette before withdrawing it from her mouth to intentionally exhale the smoke directly into her youngest son’s face. “Should’ve been you,” she said quietly, before turning and leisurely making her way up the stairs to disappear into her chambers.

OWL Moments later, a gentle wrapping - tap-tap-tapping - sounded from nearby. A little brown owl, its wings furiously flapping, was wrap-wrap-wrapping at the window by the door with its beak.

NYLE Brows furrowed at his mother’s comment, not to mention the cloud of cigarette smoke in his poor, poor face. ``...’Kay, love you!`` He called after her as she slunk off, though it clearly fell on deaf ears. As soon as she was out of earshot, he grumbled; ``Wish it had been…`` before turning his attention to the bird rapping at his chamber door. ``No solicitors! This is a strictly...agnostic household! I think!`` But he was opening the door even as he spoke, looking at the little brown owl with a single raised eyebrow. ``...God, the church is getting desperate, huh?``

OWL The owl hooted huffily, swatting poor Nyle in the forehead with its burden (quite intentionally) before dropping the sealed envelope at his feet. It soared freely about the room for a moment before turning and swooping back out the door, another solitary hoot seeming to indicate it didn’t find Nyle amusing before it vanished into the night.

NYLE Nyle stood there, his expression deadpan, as the owl smacked him in the face with a letter. ``...Okay. I deserved that.`` Holy judgement, maybe. The youngest Avery crouched down to scoop up the letter from the floor, and returned to a full stand just in time to see the owl go swooping out the door. ``Cool.`` He closed the door. He was a bit surprised, admittedly, to see that the post was addressed to him. ``I never get mail. Except for those...Red Plum coupon books they always send.`` ‘Is there a way to unsubscribe from those?’ He briefly pondered. ‘Do you need to offer your firstborn to them? Blood sacrifice? Left testicle?’ Probably all of the above. Nyle tore open the envelope casually, slipping it’s contents out and beginning to read.

OWL The neat scrawl inked onto the parchment might have looked immediately familiar to Nyle, were he cleverer than he let on. Though, that much remains to be seen.

Meet at Hog’s Head. Come at once. Wear the green coat.

Which green coat, you might wonder? You know the one. The one that didn’t belong to him, but that he’d obviously always coveted nonetheless.

NYLE ``I mean, obviously I’m gonna wear the green coat. I always wear my green coat.`` He murmured to himself as he read the letter. He turned the parchment over, and over again. ``That’s it? No cute little smiley faces? No hearts? No small, adorable doodles of a decidedly suggestive eggplant?`` He exhaled a deep, disappointed sigh. ``Oh well. I should probably go. Might be important. Better wear the Noir Nightfall.`` He picked up the two neckties from the stairs, giving them a final once over, before giving a noncommittal shrug.

Soon after, Nyle arrived at the Hog’s Head, appropriately dressed in his green coat, feeling about as cool as he ever had because holy fuck that coat is awesome.

AUDREY The Hog’s Head had a decent amount of patronage that particular night, though each patron looked just about as shady as the next - save for one russet-haired girl seated at the bar. Except for the long, thin scar that faintly ran diagonally across her right brow and cheek-bone, she was most-likely the most ordinary-looking person frequenting the inn. There was a particularly-sketchy looking witch sitting at a corner table with a large, double-chinned wizard - who kept leering at Nyle with a brown-toothed grin that seemed to suggest she liked to eat people who fit his physical profile. You know - as much as that can be suggested in a single look. Audrey Miller gripped the mug of butterbeer in her hands, her demeanor suggestive of the fact that she felt every bit as out-of-place as she looked at that particular moment, and in that particular environment. Her gaze drifted over to Nyle as he stepped into the establishment… and something in her features looked immediately disappointed. He was probably used to it.

NYLE Dark brown eyes scanned across the hive of scum and villainy, settling on the girl at the bar. ‘That has to be her.’ He told himself. ‘I mean, unless ol’ Happy over there has really, -really- girly handwriting.’ That seemed...oddly plausible, actually. There was a certain delicacy to the large man, a sort of secret warmth that hid behind those eyes. Oh. No. Wait. That was a death glare. He was staring. Move on. Nyle grimaced in mild terror, and made his way to the bar, directly to the Miller girl. He wasted no time. ``Hey, so, listen, shot in the dark, but I’m supposed to meet you here? There was this owl, real piece of work, came to my place and got all huf--hey. Hey, wait a second. I know you.`` He took a step back, narrowing his eyes at the girl as he worked to accurately place her. ``Audrey Miller, right? You were in my year at Hogwarts! That’s right, I had a wicked crush on you in year three! There was a lot of hormones, it was a confusing time.`` Pause. ``That was too much information, sorry. I’m Nyle.``

AUDREY “Yeah. No.” Audrey immediately stood up and started for the door, picking her coat up from the seat next to her and throwing it on en-route because she honestly could not get away from him more-quickly in that instant. What was to follow, of course, was the incredibly cool upturning of her collar before she disappeared into the night like Batman - but, that was all intercepted by the sudden appearance of another owl. It came swooping into the inn at the most opportune moment, dropping another parchment letter onto the ground in front of Audrey’s boots before swooping right back out into the cold. Audrey stopped, staring down at the letter for a moment. She bent to retrieve it, straightening up and tearing open the envelope to retrieve its contents and scanning the two words written on the note. She sighed, feeling defeated, and turned back to look back at Nyle with trepidation. Gritting her teeth and lowering her chin, she tucked the note into the deep pocket of her navy overcoat and started back across to Nyle. Wordlessly, she slid back onto the stool she’d been sitting on before he’d entered - wearing Nick’s coat. There really were no words to describe the incredibly hard tumble her heart had taken in that instant. “Okay. Fine,” she said aloud, though not to anyone in particular. Hazel eyes were directed back onto Nyle again, finally, though somewhat resentfully. “That’s not your coat.”

NYLE ``...Yeah. It is.`` Nyle stated pointedly, staring at her with a deadpan expression. ``Sorry, were you going to explain the owl bomb that just dropped on you that made you reconsider running out of here like I was that guy?`` Thumb jerk towards ‘Happy.’ ``Or am I just supposed to shrug and say “that’s a totally normal thing that happens all the time.”?``

AUDREY “Try the shrugging bit. I like that.” She re-adopted her butterbeer, taking a sip and then casting a wary glance towards a wizard who had sat a little nearer to the pair of them than she was comfortable with. Audrey scanned the room, and then nodded over her shoulder to an empty table nearby - a bit further out of earshot. She gathered her mug and led the way over to the table, dropping into one of the chairs after removing her coat again and draping it over the chair-back behind her. “I didn’t send any owl,” she explained when he was near enough to resume conversation - if that’s what you could call it. “I got one too… in your brother’s handwriting.” Of course she remembered Nyle. They’d only been in the same classes for seven years at Hogwarts. She’d only been his brother’s girlfriend for at least two of those years.

NYLE Yeah, well, Nyle was vaguely memorable, so he just had to make sure about things like that. When she said that she’d received a message in his dead brother’s handwriting, a look of realization washed over him. ``Ohhh. That explains the handwriting.``He reached inside of -his- coat pocket, retrieving the message he’d received and unfolding it. ``I thought it must have been a girl. I mean, look at this, all the I’s have little hearts over them.`` There were no “I’s” in the note. ``Still, that makes sense. His handwriting was always bad when he was alive, so it makes sense that his corpse can barely compose a sentence. Also, you’re batshit crazy, my brother’s dead.``

AUDREY Audrey narrowed her eyes at him. “Is he?” She plucked the note out of his hands, slapping it down on the table with a flattened palm. “Because that is most-definitely his hand-writing.” She leaned forward a bit, her gaze intently locked on his. “And he doesn’t heart his I’s.” She almost sounded offended by the notion. Take it back. I’ll fight you.

NYLE ``Okay, so, you are being -really- intense right now, and I’m a little bit scared.`` And a little bit turned on. As she leaned forward, Nyle leaned back, looking worried. ``...Can you read my thoughts?`` He mouthed, looking terrified.

AUDREY ….. “Is there some sort of disability here I should be aware of, maybe?”

NYLE ``...What? No. What do you mean?``

AUDREY “Nothing. You just seem kind of..” She leaned back again, blinking. “I feel like this is a trap.”

NYLE ``Hey, you’re the one telling me my dead brother’s alive. If anyone should feel like this is a trap, it should definitely be me. This is Trapping 101.`` He paused for a second, knitting his brows as he looked at her seriously for perhaps the first time since he’d arrived. ``...You seriously think Ben’s alive?``

AUDREY “I didn’t say that.” There was a weighty pause then, and Audrey seemed to be considering the likelihood. “But I’m certain that’s his handwriting. He must have written me a hundred letters over the years, and it’s absolutely his. Look. I brought one.” She retrieved a weathered-looking letter from her pocket, setting it down on the table and unfolding it for comparison. The parchment was different, but the handwriting was almost certainly the same. There was something elegant and careful about the cursive letters. Nick had always been very careful about.. Just about everything, really. Audrey seemed to grow quickly-conscious about the private nature of some of the things contained in the letter and retrieved it to fold it back up and restore it to her pocket before he’d had too long to read it.

…. “Do you think he could be? Alive, I mean.”

NYLE Nyle peered down at the letter carefully, until she retrieved it in a blur. ``Yeah. You’re right. That’s his handwriting alright. It’s so...elegant. Careful. ...Girly.`` This had done nothing but reaffirm his thoughts on the matter. ``I mean, I...guess? They never found a body, but...it’s been ten years or something.`` Nyle hadn’t paid too close attention to how long it had been, mind. ``You know, after forty-eight hours, it’s pretty much a given that they’re dead, right?`` Science.

AUDREY “That’s.. Not a thing.” Audrey blinked, and shook her head - as though to shake off the suggestion of thoughts that were too stupid to even be admitted to her consciousness.

NYLE ``Well, it is, but.``

AUDREY “I don’t get it,” she continued, blatantly ignoring his protest. “If Nick was out there, somewhere, alive… why would we only be hearing from him just now? Why wouldn’t he have let us know sooner? And -- why would he have me meeting you, here?” What did this accomplish, exactly? It didn’t seem to make any sense.

NYLE ``...Because he’s kind of a dick?`` Nyle suggested feebly. ``...I mean, sorry, but I grew up with him, he was. I mean, he’s my brother, and I love him, but he’s kind of a dick. More than kind of. One time he pushed me into a pile of worms. I don’t even know how he found a pile of worms. Did he dig all those up? That’s a lot of work just to push your brother into a pile of worms, don’t you think?`` Pause. ``...Other than that, I’m at a loss.``

AUDREY Audrey didn’t really have a response for that. She was pretty sure the ‘pile of worms’ thing was just something he’d made up, or had a dream about. I mean, she’d certainly seen Nick do some things that were characteristically Slytherin, admittedly, but the ‘pile of worms’ just didn’t seem like a real thing. “Dick or not, he would have told me.” Maybe not you, but he would have told me, seemed to be the implication. She knitted her brows thoughtfully, trying to work it all out.

NYLE ``Yeah...except there’s really no ‘or not’ in there. He was a dick. I kind of need you to accept that before we move on.``

AUDREY For the first time, her expression seemed to reflect her amusement. “Wow.” Audrey leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and raising her eyebrows at him. “I knew there was some… stuff.. between you, but he really did a number on you - didn’t he?”

NYLE There was a pause while Nyle considered that comment, seeming to work out how he felt about it in real time. Finally, he scoffed, looking positively offended by the idea that anything Benedict had ever done had any effect on him whatsoever. ``...No! He didn’t do a num--psh. NO. Maybe he did a number on you, and you’re projecting, ever think of that?`` He crossed his arms, and averted his eyes, looking up at some nondescript point in the rafters with great interest suddenly.

AUDREY Audrey couldn’t help but grin, his soft belly exposed for the biting. But she didn’t bite - too hard, anyway. “Oh, he did all kinds of numbers on me,” she teased, then took a casual sip from her butterbeer. She set the mug back down on the table, glancing over at the door as though expecting another owl to come fluttering into the room at any moment… but none did.