Who: Psyke Brown and Tristan Bardera
What: Awkward and angsty walk in the park
Where: A muggle park!



"Psyke, dear, hurry it along, it's getting a bit chilly."

Psyke blinked up at her father, a narrow glare shortly following as she slowly made her way up the park path. How he had convinced her that fresh air would be good for her soul was beyond her, but as she watched her mother push Lavender's carriage and her father blather on about how the wizarding community was ruining the natural environment surrounding their homes, Psyke found that she really couldn't care less. She could not care about where she was, or how terrible she looked in running pants and sunglasses with this...this stupid hat that her mother had made her wear to keep the sun out of her eyes like she was a child...

Feeling like rebelling, Psyke huffed and made her way down a separate, more secluded path. It did feel like she had aged down, that she was a teenager once more. It hadn't been a week---it hadn't been a week, but she'd been at her parents' house for the entire ordeal (Ordeal, that was what her father had been calling it) and they'd immediately enforced rules and schedules and...

She really couldn't try very hard to go against any of their wishes. With her depression and the fact that her father had insisted she take some medicine to help any sort of pains, it was like she was walking through a fog. Maybe if she just kept walking, she wouldn't ever have to feel any of the anguish she should be going through, the hurt that she was so desperately (and almost expertly) avoiding.

She probably wasn't expecting to run into someone from the Wizarding World, quite honestly - considering the fact that Tristan wasn't either, he was quite surprised to set eyes on - well, someone he wasn't expecting to see out in public considering the things that had happened if the press were to be believed. He furrowed his brows. Would going up to her right now make her think something that was ... entirely true but also entirely inappropriate at the moment?

She looked so blank. His concern was immediately piqued and he half-jogged up next to her, slouching and setting his hands into his pockets (most girls hated when you looked better than them, right? So he had to make himself look unappealing...).

Psyke was probably avoiding the inevitable crowds that would flock around her too, he thought, so he didn't do anything silly like shout her name or nudge her. He just stepped up beside her and managed an (okay, just a little too over-eager) smile.

"Hi."

Her head lifted, and Psyke couldn't help the frown that grew across her face. Not necessarily because it was Tristan that had interrupted her, he was always good for a good tease or a free drink (not that she couldn't get a free drink from anyone or anywhere), but because she'd actually made the conscious decision to take her walk down a way that she wouldn't be bothered by anyone and not a minute later her thoughtless walk had been interrupted. Psyke pushed her sunglasses further up her face, twisting her head over her shoulder to see if she could spot anyone that might have been following Tristan; she would have to hex his bollocks off if there were cameras hiding out in the woods.

"Hi," she finally responded, her frown slipping away and into a forced smile. He couldn't expect anything more, could he? Why was he even approaching her? She'd barely talked to her own brother, let alone an acquaintance like Tristan. Psyke gave her hat a little tug, hoping that her hair was covered as much as it could be before she dared to attempt to strike up a conversation.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting knocked off a broomstick, or something?"

"Every couple of weeks they give my arse a break so that I don't snap in half," he replied automatically, rubbing the back of his neck and furrowing his brows. He definitely shouldn't have approached her, she obviously didn't want to talk but -- he wanted to make sure she was at least all right.

That didn't have to mean anything bad, really. "And uh, you know. People tend to stare when I get knocked off the broomstick, and my cheeks get awfully tired of being red as an apple."

...lame, Tristan. Very lame. maybe Psyke would at least appreciate his effort to not talk about her or her 'unfortunate accident'?

"Seems like you Catapults like that kind of thing though, when it comes to bruised ass cheeks."

Right, so. Her mouth had never had much of a filter, but Psyke couldn't control the thoughts that were escaping her mouth. She'd made jokes about the Catapults and their sexual endeavors before, but right now the bit of anger and spite she sent toward Tristan couldn't be helped. She wasn't mad at him, she knew that, but at the same time it felt like she should be. Why shouldn't she be mad at anyone who wasn't suffering like she was? How was it fair that she, someone who hadn't done a damn thing to affect this war, had her life completely torn apart---

---literally-----

The thought made Psyke blanch, and she stopped walking, looking toward the ground to try and regain her composure. That was the first real sense of feeling she'd had in the past few days, apart from her initial reactions, so it felt strange and...she let out a breath, looking back up toward Tristan, "Where does this path take me?"

At least he was used to people making comments about his ass -- not necessarily in the same way that Psyke was right now, but he didn't mind her making fun of him so much since she at least seemed to be looking like she was feeling something, even if it was a nasty, mean feeling.

"Uh, there's...a duck pond a little ways down," He answered lamely, shrugging a little. It wasn't the greatest attraction, "But there's not many people who go down the hill that far, so it's pretty quiet. I can .. show you, if you want. I should be on my way out soon, though." She obviously didn't want to be around him (or anyone, he guessed) for too long.

Ooh, a duck pond. That would make the world a little sunnier, wouldn't it?

Great. She could see the water coming up already, so that meant she'd chosen a relatively short path and would have to turn back around and be forced to find her family. It should have pained her how much she didn't want to see them or be near them, but she was numbed to nearly everything around her, so what did it really, anyway? Could anyone actually blame her? The only one that actually mattered was Lavender, and right now her parents were more than willing to take care of the baby.

The baby. Her daughter she should say, but it didn't sound right. You didn't have a daughter by yourself, a daughter as a mummy and a daddy, and their little princess barely had either now. She didn't have her daddy, that was---

"Ducks it is," Psyke said, straightening her shoulders and quickening her pace. Any time she felt like her feelings were going to become overwhelming, or heavens forbid break through the self-inflicted fog, she pushed her thoughts away and trudged forward. There was no other way she'd be able to manage.

Tristan wasn't going to be the one to break Psyke out of her little fog if she wanted to stay in it -- not right now, when it had barely been -- well, it really hadn't been any time at all. How was she supposed to cope, having a child and all as she did (he really didn't want to think too hard on that point, though).

Still, he was supposed to be the older adult, wasn't he? He should at least try to give her some sort of comfort. He licked his lips and nodded, absently glancing out at the water and trying to avoid eye-contact with Psyke. No need for her to think he was checking her out (since he probably would if he looked at her).

"I'll ... uh, leave you to the ducks, then?" Maybe he'd send her ... something later.

Psyke sucked in a breath. A week ago she would've shrieked and dragged Tristan down to the pond, to have him make sure that none of the animals got too close to her. She'd have probably attempted to push him into the pond as well, and gotten bloody angry if he'd tried to do the same to her. But she just nodded, and looked away, finding herself sad that she knew she didn't have the energy to keep from causing a scene.

She was supposed to have a husband to do all that for her, but all she had now was an empty bed and a big house with nothing to look forward to.

"All right---thanks," Psyke managed, and with only a slight hesitation moved forward to give Tristan one of those quick, one armed hugs with the touching of the cheeks and---people, touching people was not one of her favorite things at the moment, but it seemed like what was expected, like it was she was supposed to at least feign some normal interactions. Telling someone goodbye should be a good thing, for someone who was beyond depressed.