[Helena Polyxena]

“I don’t think so.” She said, her voice more awe struck than unkind as she skitted her hand away from Jasper’s. He’d never liked her hands, which were more calloused than his own, wider perhaps, her fingers shorter and not as slender. They’d been soft enough at point point she was sure but had been ruined over the course of many years worth of weaving, sailing, pottery making cooking. Not at all in keeping with Jasper’s aesthetic, something he liked to point out when he found her chopping wood or working fishing nets out of a tangle.

Knowing Jasper wouldn’t especially like it but unable to contain herself none the less she reached out one finger and ran it down the length of his nose. All back in large order, though as if to spite her he did it again. Another shift and then back. She tried her best to avoid praising Jasper too much and too often. His self esteem was already overly robust and constantly pumping it up would only cause a pressurized explosion one of these days but this....

“You can do human tissue transfiguration?” Instead of speaking, Jasper simply demonstrated again. A shocked, short version of her normal laugh was her reply. “You’re lucky the Ministry thinks your dim or you’d be buried in the Department of Mysteries. Now, when they asked you about any special talents why on earth didn’t you say that? Instead of that stupid thing about the cherry stem, which I think is a lie anyway.”

“I like your proper nose better...the other one doesn't look like your face.” A judicious way of putting things she hoped. Jasper looked quiet satisfied with himself, lounging back, wand twinned between his fingers. He was back on top having succeeded in getting her to back off, lay off of him and surprised her all on top of that. The cherry on top.

Twining her hair through her fingers she did her best to look coy. The expression didn’t fit well on her face, her eyes were too big and her mouth had a ever present upturn of expression that betrayed the humor she felt. She tried anyway. Poised to make an escape if it came to that. “So does it have any other practical uses? You can make things smaller but what about making things bigger? I’m sure Verity would love to know. Along with every other Witch Weekly Reader.”

[Jasper Christie]

Helena tucked her hands neatly into her lap, as though she needed to shield them in case he got overzealous. He teased her about her hands a lot, and it was true that they weren't very ladylike, but they weren't as bad as he made out. It was just hard to find things to criticize Helena about; she was so generally pleasant and kind. He had the hands, the animal sweaters, and the goats. A limited sphere.

"You can do human tissue transfiguration? She leaned forward as Jasper twitched his nose back out of shape one more time, for confirmation, eliciting a laugh. You're lucky the Ministry thinks your dim..."

He really was, and he intended to keep it that way. That was the reason he'd started the shop, initially-- to keep a low profile. Being Harry Christie's spoiled, supremely average son had its advantages, namely that no one paid any attention to him. Helena herself had made the assumption that he was unremarkable, even a bit simple, for a while, he suspected until he'd let her in on the secret about the jewels. He knew that impressed her, but she tried to mitigate it by pointing out how hapless he was at most other aspects of daily life.

"Now, when they asked you about any special talents why on earth didn't you say that? Instead of that stupid thing about the cherry stem, which I think is a lie anyway."

Jasper held up a hand. He lied a lot in Witch Weekly articles, but that hadn't been one of them. The cherry stem talent went way back, to a rather drunk evening with Apollo and Wendell and an abandoned bottle of maraschino cherries from the back of Apollo's fridge.

"One hundred percent true! Maybe the only thing in the whole bloody article that is. The reporter made me verify it in person--" he rolled his eyes. "Journalistic integrity, she claimed. Get me a cherry later, I'll have a go."

"I like your proper nose better...the other one doesn't look like your face."

"You sound just like Cal now."

Similar arguments had been made when he'd first shown off his new talent. In fact, Cal and Helena could have made up a communal note sheet at tea, for how alike their comments were. He-- oh no, Helena was twirling her hair. Only bad things ever came from that.

"So does it have any other practical uses? You can make things smaller but what about making things bigger? I'm sure Verity would love to know. Along with every other Witch Weekly Reader.

Jasper stopped, halfway through reclining, and sat up again and put his hands over his face. This was really, entirely too much. He wasn't sure if he'd gotten more English over time or Helena had gotten bolder, but he could feel the blush practically glowing off his cheeks. He kept his eyes down, on the oxblood toes of his shoes (around an equal shade of red to his face), for a while. It was so terribly hard to think of things to respond with when she got like this.

"I haven't perfected the spell enough to try out anything with consequences that dicey, but it would be entirely unnecessary anyway. As dozens of painfully terrible innuendos from Witch Weekly have hinted for you over the years." He rubbed his hands across his face again. "Oh, Merlin, Verity will understand those now--" He reddened further.

[Helena Polyxena]

Whatever color that had begun to fade from Jaspers cheeks as he relaxed came flooding back. Even when Jasper leaned forward, hands coming up to cover his face she could practically see the glow between his fingers. When he did splay his hands she could see that his skin was a rosy crimson, making the small smattering of freckles below his eyes stand out more prominently as he concentrated on the floor. Maybe this had been just too much, Jasper had been under a great deal of stress lately, she should be kinder. But it was Witch Weekly time and it was her thought that the nicest thing she could do for Jas was to act as if things were normal, regardless of what color it made him turn.

Maybe she should get the camera....she wasnt positive but this might have been almost the worst shed ever seen Jasper. The cake taker, complete with stumbling and stuttering had been one of the first times shed stayed over at Atlas. Unaware of proper British decorum shed heard Jasper and Atlas speaking in the kitchen and instead of taking the time to put on her own clothes for the day had flounced downstairs in one of Atlas shirts. At first shed thought Jaspers slack jawed expression and muttering had been the result of shock over the fact that Atlas ear line had finally worked and shed stayed the night, but gradually shed realized it was more an issue of her exposed knees and the wide implications of what had gone on the previous night. Information that Jasper hadnt been able to properly process.

Now he was making a similar face, massaging the skin of his cheeks as if it might help the blush.

I haven't perfected the spell enough to try out anything with consequences that dicey, but it would be entirely unnecessary anyway.

The raise of her eyebrow, like a cobra fanning out its crest, signaled the immanence of a second wave of the attack and Jasper glanced over and moved on doggedly. As dozens of painfully terrible innuendos from Witch Weekly have hinted for you over the years.

They really had....there had been the first year where a lot of talk about Quidditch terminology had culminated in a really awkward comment about Beaters, a few years later there had been a follow up using military terminology. Helena had been less apt at deciphering that, leading to a painful two hours on the sofa with Atlas, making him parse out just what they meant about Sergeants.... They’d been rather merciful this year actually, only a scattering of comments about Jaspers prowess and a number of questions about Sofia Robards, the love of his life. The woman had better watch herself, before someone came to her door looking to eliminate the competition.

The rubbing paused and Helena glanced over as Jaspers eyes widened and he began to scrub at his face again. Oh, Merlin, Verity will understand those now--

Helena nodded the way her professors had, when they were imparting some wisdom on the merits of good lines or telling the girls about the dangers of getting too close to caves. If Verity had finally figured out just what came after the sing along and the wedding then there was really no going back on it. Jaspers face was still the color of a sacrificial vase after its meeting with a cow and had spread down to his throat, disappearing where his tie kept him knotted in.

She conjured a cloth and then went through another to make it cooly damp and offered it over with a slight smirk.

'No going back now. Take consolation in the fact that her innuendo and play on words will only improve as time goes on and she gets more desperate,the only place to go is up. Maybe watch and make sure she and Eres dont have any talks though.

Im just waiting for Cal to break down and expose your terrible secret to the world. From his place next to her Jasper froze, the line of his shoulders straightening out. “It’s so kind of him not to say anything really, about you. Having seen several Ken dolls in my lifetime I dont know how Id carry on a relationship with one.

[Jasper Christie]

When Jasper finally looked up, Helena was offering him something. He took it cautiously but it turned out to be only a cool, damp cloth, which he accepted gratefully since the skin of his cheeks felt ready to sear right through his palms. For a moment he thought the cloth might be a peace offering, to be followed by baklava and forcible shuffling to the guest room. But he wasn't going to be so lucky yet; he could tell from the way Helena continued to smile as he dabbed across his forehead.

"No going back now. Take consolation in the fact that her innuendo and play on words will only improve as time goes on and she gets more desperate,the only place to go is up. Maybe watch and make sure she and Eres dont have any talks though."

"Trust me, Atlas and I have been working together to prevent that unholy alliance."

Jasper knew he didn't stand a chance if Verity ever got in touch with his mother. According to Atlas, she was planning to model their 'courtship' on Harry and Eres' early years together. The first problem was going to be that Jasper didn't have a dutiful secretary to arrange and remind him of dates with eligible and persistent young witches. The second, and more crucial, issue was that he was actively avoiding getting married rather than simply forgetting to check it off his to-do list.

"I'm just waiting for Cal to break down and expose your terrible secret to the world." Jasper, in the midst of casting a charm to turn the cloth from damp to dry, cocked an eyebrow at her expectantly. One final blow, he should have known. "It's so kind of him not to say anything really, about you. Having seen several Ken dolls in my lifetime I don't know how I'd carry on a relationship with one."

"Well, it helps that I Obliviate him every morning." He leaned forward and ducked his head. "C'mon, I'm loads better than Ken. My hair is way softer and I can bend all my limbs."

He demonstrated the aforementioned skill.

"But if you run into Verity, the Ken doll argument is something you can definitely pass on to her."

[Helena Polyxena]

Well, it helps that I Obliviate him every morning. He ducked his head down as if he intended head-butt her like some kind of besuited bull. Turning her shoulder she made ready to receive the blow but it didn’t come. C’mon, I’m load better than Ken. My hair is way softer and I can bend all my limbs. She realized what the gesture had meant to convey as Jasper made a show of moving each limb in turn, on the joint, rotating his shoulders. Reaching out she briefly laid her hand over the top of his head. She didn’t want to admit it but he did have soft hair, a feat for someone who used as much hair product as Jasper did. The first time he’d come to visit, back before she’d had an exclusive bathroom put in in the guest room, she’d come in to find a smattering of bottles and containers on the counter. She’d worried that maybe Jasper had some kind of condition she was unaware of. When she had gone to Atlas in a mild panic over it he’d told her that it was true, but his condition was just vanity and as far as he knew it wasn’t life threatening.

But if you run into Verity, the Ken doll argument is something you can definitely pass on to her.

“Right, Ken doll, not Thai Prison. I should be able to keep that mostly straight in my brain.” She gave his head a light shove to send him back into a upright position and watched as the blush started to loose its hold. “Had about enough, Jasper?” He looked at her but didn’t give a yes or no, maybe worried that doing so would merely prompt another round of abuse. There was really only one way to show him that he was safe, so she stood, went to the kitchen and retrieved his slice of baklava and one for herself. There was a large case sitting next to the table and she charmed that to follow her as well.

“Here then, you’ve made it another year and though I am deeply curious about your referring to Miss. Robards as ‘as the real Christie Diamond’ I suppose you can have a break. The mob aside, and the camel, how’re things?” Patting the case now at her feet she tried for a smile. “I didn’t just have sarcasm and discomfort to give you on this trip.”

[Jasper Christie]

Helena looked confused for a moment, but Jasper kept his head ducked until she got the message. For all the jokes about Muggle toys, he knew she had a strange affinity for his hair. She, however, was unaware that he knew since he pretended to be asleep whenever she came to do work and got distracted with a bout of hair stroking. She would never have done it if she'd known he was awake about half the time, and he found it unusually calming. Her hand came down briefly against his hair, neatly kept nails tapping at the edge of his hairline near the temple, then she tipped his head upright again.

“Had about enough, Jasper?”

He glanced at her warily. The question seemed good natured enough, but Helena always seemed good natured, even when she was menacing you with a squid (which had happened more than once before Jasper had begun to flatly refuse any sailing expedition). Finally she smiled at him, turned Witch Weekly over, and stood. Jasper relaxed. He'd survived another year. She returned with a slice of baklava and a large case, which she parked between their feet. Bottles clinked inside.

“Though I am deeply curious about your referring to Miss Robards as ‘as the real Christie Diamond’ I suppose you can have a break. The mob aside, and the camel, how’re things? I didn’t just have sarcasm and discomfort to give you on this trip.”

Jasper leaned over to peek inside the case briefly. Neat rows of vials, carefully packed inside puffs of crumpled paper. Helena's brothers must have stepped up the smuggling operations in the last few years; he had no idea how else she was getting all these ingredients on such short notice and in the vast quantities some of the spells required. However she was managing it, it was a huge weight off Jasper and Atlas.

"Thanks. From Cal and Atlas too. If you ever need money for any of this--" He clicked the case shut then sat back with his plate. "Thanks for the baklava too.

"Aside from the gross abuse of journalistic standards that resulted in that 'quote,' things are good. Better, I think we're getting places and it's such a relief that Atlas and Cal are getting on. I didn't really think it would happen. Though the monogramming might have set things back a bit." He shook his head. "Atlas just had to ask about his middle name, didn't he? Claimed he needed all three initials."

[Helena Polyxena]

A wry smile was the response to her question about Sofia. The way that the papers were telling it, and the two of them were hamming up, it was looking like a summer wedding announcement, if not a wedding itself was fast coming down the pipeline. She hoped that Jasper had worked out a good escape plan, and a good couch for Eres to collapse onto when it turned out to all be for naught. The snap of the casement being opening drew her attention and she gazed down into it along with Jasper. Some of the bottles sparkled, others had a slight lining of frost along them, a few on the list that Cal had provided her she’d never heard of and stranger still Nereus had never heard of. A little sweet talking and a few well placed bribes went a long way though and she’d managed to procure every supply specified and a few that hadn’t been...but she thought they’d need anyway.

Maybe the poptarts at the bottom weren’t a required item..but a few nice surprises never hurt. She hoped Atlas would notice the Undine Tears and the Dream Fluffs.

Thanks. From Cal and Atlas too. If you ever need money for any of this---

The movement of her hand back and forth in the air could have just as easily been to waft away fumes as it was Jasper’s offer.

“Don’t. It’s the least that I can do.” So long as I’m banished to my island and not allowed to do anything else. Was the unspoken thought. A guilt trip wasn’t what Jasper needed, however silly she thought he was being. “You’re not the only one with smuggling connections, but tell Cal if he wants anymore Salamander fire he might have to look into other avenues.”

Thanks for the baklava too.

“The very least.” She repeated and bit into her own slice, waiting for the flood gates to open. Jasper seemed entirely too at ease and cheerful in spite of it being Witch Weekly Week, one which he’d spent mostly trapped in a house with Cal and Atlas.

Aside from the gross abuse of journalistic standards that resulted in that 'quote,' things are good. Better, I think we're getting places and it's such a relief that Atlas and Cal are getting on. I didn't really think it would happen.

Neither did Helena, which was why she starred at him over a fork full of walnuts and honey putting on her best dubious expression. Like many things, she’d never managed to perfect the look the same way Jasper had.

Though the monogramming might have set things back a bit. At that moment, she decided that she was going to frame those jamas, maybe mount them on the wall of Jasper’s room along with the date. Something to remember his experiences by. Her mouth was open to ask how he felt about bronzing when Jasper swallowed and continued. Atlas just had to ask about his middle name, didn't he? Claimed he needed all three initials.

Nothing in Jasper’s face gave her any clue as to what that could mean. Looking up at the ceiling, the pock marks and plaster patterns didn’t allow her to divine anything. Calixtus Ferox....Ferox...he’d been in the index she was certain. The first name was old but...unfortunate and aside from its Latin origin there was nothing really wrong with Ferox.....

“Calixtus......A” It was at the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t net the word and pull it from the murk. “Ferox....” Pursing her lips together she snapped her hand out and accioed her History of Magic textbook. Jasper laid one hand over the cover as she tired to lift it and she pursed her lips at him. “What? It can’t be so bad.....” She tugged the book. “Tell me or I’ll just look it up anyway, maybe check back in on your profile?”

[Jasper Christie]

Helena looked at him expectantly, then tilted her head in thought. Greek magical education was highly impractical, but it did have an alarming focus on family history. Added to Helena's natural affinity for language, it made her a walking index of names and bloodlines. She stared into space for a moment and then perked up.

“Calixtus......A” She frowned. Jasper realized she was the first person other than Atlas, and Cal of course, who had said his name out loud. Strange to hear it without the odd formality Atlas placed on the syllables. “Ferox....”

She paused again to find her wand, and then her History of Magic book appeared in her lap. The volume, battered by years of study, had been the source of significant entertainment for Jasper the first time she'd shown it to him. History of Magic was something of a misnomer for what her course at school had been. More accurately it should have been Future Husband Studies. 90% of the text was devoted to Greek pureblood families and their eligible son, with the remainder allocated for wizarding families from other countries that had been deemed acceptable. Jasper himself had about a page, complete with vital statistics about his allergies and favorite colors.

“What? It can’t be so bad.....” She tugged the book. “Tell me or I’ll just look it up anyway, maybe check back in on your profile?”

He shouldn't have said anything. Helena wasn't the type to make fun of most people, just him, but she was also Greek so she'd know the story and the irony was just too obvious. But he'd started now, so he'd just have to make the best of it.

"That's unnecessary, since you memorized it for your NEWTS. And demonstrated alarming retention of it when we first met." He lifted his hand from the book's worn cover. "You have to promise not to mention it around him, I think he's a bit embarrassed about it, yeah? Is Cal really in there?"

When she nodded, he gestured for the book and she handed it over. The index showed only a single page for Ferox, near the end of the text, and he flipped to find a family tree. Cal was near the bottom, on the branch next to Leo; the edition had been printed before his niece was born. A picture of a very young Cal, maybe three or four years old, blinked shyly at him with massive eyes. Ferox, Calixtus Antinous was the only caption. Jasper wasn't sure why, but he'd been expecting maybe a small asterisk that led to a note reading Squib. He turned the book upside down to face Helena.

"It's Antinous."

[Helena Polyxena]

He finally relented, taking his hand off the book and raising it in mock surrender. It didn’t look like he was going to lunge for it, but she put her hands around it possessively anyway and gazed across at him. Honestly, it couldn’t be that bad. She’d seen a few well terrible names in her time in school, they used to read them off to one another in the dorms and giggle about how silly it would be to end up as Persephone Tibbetts, or Caliope Nakamura. Calixtus Ferox might not have been the greatest name ever, and certainly not the greatest in the whole Ferox line...but he could have done worse.

That's unnecessary, since you memorized it for your NEWTS. And demonstrated alarming retention of it when we first met.

“Not all of us had proper educations.”

Which was true, she hadn’t had nearly the same level of instruction of options in her schooling as Atlas and Jasper had in theres. She’d hadn’t know just how behind her years secluded in Athens and at home had made her before she had met the two of them. One thing she could do though was name you your entire family history in a few short breaths and often with only one or two mistakes. Not so practical or useful...but it did make for easy winning in pub quizzes and could function has a slightly off putting ice breaker.

You have to promise not to mention it around him, I think he's a bit embarrassed about it, yeah? Is Cal really in there? When she’d finished rolling her eyes she nodded dramatically. After she’d first met the American she’d gone home and pursued her textbook, the family tree hadn’t been large on information but he had been present. Handing Jasper the book she sat back and tried to think about what might be so embarrassing. Italian...Merlin only knew. She hoped it wasn’t Cataline...but she was fairly certain of it being an A name.

It’s Antinuous. A vivid and immediate image came to mind and she grimaced.

“No.” Jasper just looked meaningfully down at the book which she crowded in next to him to get a better look at. Scanning the tree, Cal was 90% eyes in the photo and didn’t look particularly happy to be there, inanely she wondered if they had known then. “No one would be that....” Calixtus Antinuous Ferox. Her mouth was hanging open, she put her hand over it, not ready to try and shut it yet.
“The fierce small boy pot. I’d....go by Cal too. Have you met these people? Is there something wrong with them?” Scanning the line again she almost laughed but it came out sort of wrong, awkwardly. “Does this make you emperor Hadrian?”

[Jasper Christie]

Helena had once taken a surreptitious photo of Jasper's reaction when Atlas had waved a semi-rancid squid tentacle in his face. In light of violent protests she'd burned the negatives in front of him, though he now wondered if there wasn't a copy or two still floating around. Maybe hidden inside one of Cal's lesser-used physics texts. Anyhow, the face she made when said 'Antinous' was rather like the squid. Equal parts affront and disbelief that someone could commit such an act.

“No.”

Jasper nodded at the book regretfully. Things had to be dire when someone Greek thought a name was bad. This was Helena, who had once told him with a straight face that "Tsimpoukis," direct quote, "is not really so terrible, Jas." She scooted over to peer at the book more closely and pulled the face again when she spotted Cal. He'd hoped the cute photo of Cal with giant, cartoonish eyes might mitigate things, but the name overrode all else.

“No one would be that....”

He watched her frown, a particular contortion of her forehead that had been more common early in their friendship, when her English had still been developing and she had to pause to translate in her head. It was a face that now appeared only on the rarest occasions, more often than not when she was trying to remember the words 'squirrel' or 'study.' One was far more common in Jasper's house than the other.

“The fierce small boy pot. I’d....go by Cal too. Have you met these people? Is there something wrong with them? Does this make you emperor Hadrian?”

Jasper frowned. Atlas had all but made him a tiny foil crown to wear while regaling him with the complete tale of Antinous during his enforced visit to SHOP. The parallels were rather alarming.

"If I'd wanted to hear that comment again, I'd have hung about Atlas' house in my pajamas for a few more days. You all but quoted him directly there. I had no idea about Antinous until Atlas was kind enough to enlighten me over the weekend. That was a lovely evening.

"And I haven't met them, but I can only imagine that they're particularly evil. But also remarkably accurate at predicting Cal's future in a darkly comedic fashion." He glanced down at the book again. Miniature Cal was frowning up at them now, as though portraits could understand when they were being made fun of. "However, I've considered telling Cal to keep out of sight for a day or two and moping about making coins for April Fools' this year."

[Helena Polyxena]

Evidently she’d done something wrong because Jasper was giving her a rather unreadable look.

If I’d wanted to hear that comment again, I’d have hung about Atlas’ house in my pajamas for a few more days. Well that couldn’t be at all accurate. Pajamas yes, but Jasper’s implication seemed to be that he’d actually spent any amount of time in jama’s at Atlas’ house. Maybe when he slept...in his separate bed, but before leaving the guest room she was certain he would have shed that skin and revealed a perfectly pressed three piece suit. They had become Jasper’ uniform very gradually and now appeared to be his constant default.

You all but quoted him directly there. Now it was Helena’s turn to make a face. When they had been dating she’d always gotten a thrill from moments when her and Atlas’ thoughts synced up like that. Atlas was stunningly (and often bewilderingly) brilliant and while she had her moments she was more of a small star orbiting a super nova. Moments when she reached a thought in the same manner and relatively the same time was Atlas had still be limited but each time it occurred she’d felt as if maybe she had learned something in school. Something aside avoiding giving Jasper mango smoothies.

Now though, she wasn’t sure how to feel about the occurrence and just smiled grudgingly, imagining all the things Atlas could have said. He definitely would have mentioned the river...and the long drawn out search, concubine had probably come up....she hoped he’d at least had the presence of mind to use the Greek. Even then it was natty. Lucky for Jasper he didn’t know Greek....hopefully Cal didn’t either.

I had no idea about Antinous until Atlas was kind enough to enlighten me over the weekend. That was a lovely evening.

Unable to resist she put out her hand and resting it on Jasper’s knee. Squeezing lightly in sympathy, running her thumb back and forth before letting go and looking at the book again. The name hadn’t changed.

And I haven't met them, but I can only imagine that they're particularly evil.

As he said the words some of the joking bitterness leaked away to be replaced by what Helena would term as a more real brand of anger and indignation. She’d assumed that Cal’s parents....horrible taste in names aside, must be decent people. Decent if not expressly kind. Cultural differences were perhaps the reason behind her logic; she knew of only one squib in her own family from when she had been very young. One day she had had a cousin and some days later had been informed by her mother that it was no longer true. Only years later had she become fully aquatinted with proper procedures when it came to squibs. Cal’s parents had educated him, clothed him, allowed him to keep their name, he was still there son, yet Jasper had the same sort of dark look on his face usually reserved for mentioning people he found to be unsavory, Atlas’ father, that Lady Gag or whatever her name was....

But also remarkably accurate at predicting Cal's future in a darkly comedic fashion.
“Is his mother a Diviner by any chance? Prophetess with a second sight?”

Another grimace from Jasper.

However, I've considered telling Cal to keep out of sight for a day or two and moping about making coins for April Fools' this year.

Shaking her head she looked back down at the picture. He’d been a cute child...she wondered if her second edition might yield another photo...or maybe the “F” volume. Pulling herself up from her seat she went to look, stopping at the desk to pick through a dish of small oval’s tossing one back to Jasper. “Here, for accuracy.”

“Are you doing to try and deify him as well? Maybe thats the way to win over Atlas’ heart. Just think of him as some kind of uncivilized Celt that you have to tame for Great Rome.” She did her best to make her voice sound properly patrician. “Fewer naked statues though. I’m sorry, I’m sure you’ve already endured all of this indignation.” A sudden thought about a junk trip she and Atlas had taken to Cyrus occurred to her. With the “F” Section in one hand she turned to look at Jasper.

“Jasper. Now keep calm, but... you wouldn’t happen to know if there was a certain...statue in SHOP on New Years. About twice my height, wearing some grape leaves? Face looks like that muggle from the film with the exploding buildings? I don’t want to alarm you, but... it might actually be possible for the Antinous situation to get more uncomfortable at home.”

[Jasper Christie]

Glancing down at the book one last time, Helena left him on the couch with it and went across to the shelf to seek out something else that would probably be equally if not more embarrassing. She paused along the way and tossed him a tarnished coin with imperfect edges. Greek wizarding currency, not updated much since sometime around the fall of the Byzantine Empire. An indiscriminate face was chiseled into the back of the disc, some nondescript bloke with curls and laurels.

“Are you doing to try and deify him as well? Maybe thats the way to win over Atlas’ heart. Just think of him as some kind of uncivilized Celt that you have to tame for Great Rome.”

Jasper rolled his eyes. "I'm reserving deification for the unlikely event of Cal's drowning in the Thames. That said, I've been keeping him away from various bodies of water, faucets-- he's so accident prone anyhow..."

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you’ve already endured all of this indignation.”

She was holding up another battered book and looked eager when she turned around, but held off on producing another photo of Cal, of either the childishly cute or embarrassing variety. Speaking of, he was going to have to get a copy of that other picture-- Cal as a child looked like a character from one of those programs about puppets that very young Muggles seemed to favor. He was about to ask if he could steal the page, at least temporarily, when Helena stopped smiling and tucked the book under her arm.

“Jasper. Now keep calm--

Jasper immediately felt less calm, and in fact could feel the muscles in his back winding up in fear. The only time Helena said something like 'keep calm' was when she was about to give him very bad news. Common applications included, Keep calm, but the radio tells me a squall is blowing toward the sailboat. Keep calm, only four of the goats are loose. Or Jasper's perennial favorite, Keep calm, it'll make it easier for me to pull the squid's suckers away from your wrist.

...you wouldn’t happen to know if there was a certain...statue in SHOP on New Years. About twice my height, wearing some grape leaves?" She demonstrated with an upraised arm. "Face looks like that muggle from the film with the exploding buildings? I don’t want to alarm you, but... it might actually be possible for the Antinous situation to get more uncomfortable at home.”

"I-- didn't see anything like that when we were moving things back in, but you know how much Atlas has-- Why?" She'd prefaced it with Keep calm, it had to be really horrible. Maybe he should just retreat to the guest room now and never find out. "It can't really be worse than Atlas' history lesson about defacement of--" He stopped to light another cigarette and kept out the lighter to click open and shut-- "parts of Antinous statues during the seventeenth century. After which he left us matching copies of Amateur Archaeologist on our matching nightstands."

[Helena Polyxena]

Keep calm had obviously lost most of its effectiveness, she was going to have to come up with another phrase. Ideally it would be one with fewer attachments, and maybe then Jasper wouldn’t fly into a near panic as soon as the syllables left her mouth. Really the last time it had been even slightly helpful in getting him to actually keep calm had been the first time one of the goats had gotten into the house while Jasper was on the sofa having a nap. After the death of his poor shirt sleeve she’d never been able to get the desired reaction again.

Her phrase book would be getting some use, there had to be another way.

I--didn’t see anything like that when we were moving things back in, but you know how much Atlas has--- Both of them glanced at one another and then looked away, each probably thinking of a different spare warehouse where Atlas had taken to storing the things he couldn’t cram into SHOP or bear to send off to that weird bloke in Seattle. Why? She’d already been so mean...she wasn’t sure that she had the heart to tell him that Atlas had his very own statue to the poor drowned Antinous. One where he could very easily reconfigure the face to create a greater likeness....oddly it was one of the reasons he’d bought the thing. Marble was rather easy to work with so long as you had a wand in place of a chisel and hammer.

It can't really be worse than Atlas' history lesson about defacement of-- Whatever it was Jasper needed to light another cigarette before he could consider talking about it. The face she put on at the sight of it was half serious, rearranging the book and the wand she summoned an ashtray for him, all the while filling it what could have possible become “detached”.

There were fingers....heads....feet, all inaccurate thought because Antinous had drowned, or been drowned or. parts of Antinous statues during the seventeenth century. Or phalluses. Always phalluses. If she recalled correctly Atlas also had a box of those lurking around somewhere. He used to have four, but she’d slowly talked him into just keep the one, which he insisted he’d need, Helena, what if I find the statues they belong to, don’t you care about your heritage?.

After which he left us matching copies of Amateur Archaeologist on our matching night-stands. She had to open the book and start filing through, if she kept looking at Jasper she’d just start laughing. She knew it and it would shame her, but it would happen none the less.

“I’d be on the watch, unless he sold it he’s got a statue of your new favorite Greek somewhere and a box of....‘part of Antinous’,” Honestly Jasper could be such a prude. “That he’s looking to match up. While he might see that as a perfectly enjoyable afternoon activity, I don’t know how you’d feel about it. Or Cal. Maybe just find the box and get rid of it. Soon.” F, Fe, Feo, Ferox. She turned a few more pages idly. “I’m still waiting for you to tell me that you need help disposing of a body. So when you hooked up with Cal,” She just couldn’t resist. “Did you send your officers far and wide, searching for the most attractive and talented papikta you could find?”

[Jasper Christie]

Helena didn't technically approve of him smoking in her house, and he tried to restrain himself under normal conditions, but she forgave him when circumstances got dire. He could always tell her disapproval had lessened when she Accioed him an ashtray, which she did now, pushing it across the coffee table toward him. He tapped a small pillar of ash into it gratefully.

“I’d be on the watch, unless he sold it he’s got a statue of your new favorite Greek somewhere and a box of....‘part of Antinous’ that he’s looking to match up. While he might see that as a perfectly enjoyable afternoon activity, I don’t know how you’d feel about it. Or Cal. Maybe just find the box and get rid of it. Soon.”

Jasper would feel distinctly negative about it, and he could only assume the same of Cal. He recalled the remarkably sour face Cal had pulled the afternoon Atlas produced a thousand-piece puzzle depicting the most famous mosaic of Antinous and Hadrian. He'd thought they might be bored. That had been around day three, when the gaggle of women outside the house had settled somewhat; Jasper had almost considered making a run for it until he spotted the camel eating some flowers in the windowbox at the Sinistra's.

“I’m still waiting for you to tell me that you need help disposing of a body. So when you hooked up with Cal, did you send your officers far and wide, searching for the most attractive and talented papikta you could find?”

Helena was bent over the book again and hair had fallen forward over her face, so he couldn't read her expression. The smirk was obvious in her voice, though. Even without knowing exactly what she'd said in Greek, the meaning was clear. That was often the case when Jasper attended Polyxena family gatherings. He'd learned enough Greek to say key things like "No squid, thank you," but had never approached Atlas' fluency.

"C'mon then, don't start mocking us in other languages, I can't defend myself. Is Cal in that one too?" He sat forward to peer at the book. "As a matter of fact I did, and they searched high and low until they found Cal in the depths of the Cambridge laboratory. May have been literally the last place they looked, for obvious reasons. It was hard to get him to leave his centrifuge behind, but I wooed him with promises of riches and empires."

He stubbed his cigarette out and craned further to see what she was looking at. "You can put that story in the next 'History of Magic' textbook you edit for your old school."

[Helena Polyxena]

C’mon the, don’t start mocking us in other languages, I can’t defend myself. She tried to refrain from slipping into Greek around Jasper, or anyone who didn’t speak the language for that matter. It was rude, and in some ways she supposed elitist. Jasper had caught onto a few vital phases over the course of their friendship but intricacies like “male concubine” had certainly not been one of the more common things he’d heard, from her or from her relatives. Try as she might she really couldn’t think of a proper way to call Cal a “concubine” in a pleasant and respectful way in English.

When she had first met Cal, and had Jasper tell her that he’d been “seeing him”, tantamount to a deep and binding relationship from Jasper’s mouth, she’d gone home and spent a good deal of time deliberating about what she should be calling Cal. There were so many categories and slots that she could have placed him into using her mother tongue but in English she’d found her avenues were rather limited. The phrase book had called for “boyfriend” and so it was what she used but it didn’t sound right coming from her mouth. Like she was calling adults children, belittling one in the face of the other.

She suspected that if Jasper knew about how much time she’d spent settling on “boyfriend” she’d earn herself one of his patented ‘You are tragically Greek’ looks.

Is Cal in that one too? She didn’t know yet, this volume was more in depth, many more Ferox’s, most of them from the Italian side of the family. When she saw Jasper moving from the corner of her eye she tipped the book up and away from his prying gaze. Looking back down she came eye to eye with a portrait that was leering at her, giving her the feeling that she should go and get the ice cream sweat shirt to cover up more.

As a matter of fact I did, and they searched high and low until they found Cal in the depths of the Cambridge laboratory. May have been literally the last place they looked, for obvious reasons. It was hard to get him to leave his centrifuge behind, but I wooed him with promises of riches and empires.

“And a hearty flotation device.” She muttered, another page. Ferox, Marcus Aurelius. He didn’t strike her as the sort of man who would name his first born something so inherently cruel. Though..Marcus Aurelius, someone had already gotten to him, maybe he’d just been passing on the pain as a family tradition.

You can put that story in the next 'History of Magic' textbook you edit for your old school.

“Can I? Really? You won’t go back and change the drafts like the time you claimed that you were married to one Grace Kelly and thus off market? This isn’t like Witch Weekly Jas, you have to think of the children.” There it was Calixtus A. Ferox....the photo blinked up at her, eyes wide and pupils dilated. It looked as if Cal was waiting for escape from the shot. “Besides where would I fit all the information about your wall building, and Gaul killing. Between Harry and Cal you’re cornering the market on minor deities, I’m not sure its entirely fair.” Before Cal could escape the frame she handed the book back off to Jasper. “That should make up for a few of the photos I gave him.”

"And I wasn't mocking. Papikta, its the nice word for concubine. More accurately its "boy-love" but that sounds a little...." she made a rocking motion with her hand. "It's more pleasant than the words you people have for it."