The Astor/Rosensteel Household

(THEY HAVE CROQUET.)

(YES.)

[[WHY are they so rich?! o3o]]

[Elroy inherited stuff since he's the oldest sibling that's not insane/dead?, and Serenity's a lawyer.]

[[Cool house, bro.]]

[[I forgot to photoshop it but it's only about half of that. Like, maybe to the gazebo at the longest.]]

Dianna went to her backyard, picked up a croquet stick, and started to practice. It was the most entertaining thing she could do until that lazy neighbor of hers got up.

There was a loud screeching noise upstairs, followed by a twanging, followed by an agitated groan. Adam Astor was practicing his violin. When was he going to get those new strings he'd asked for nearly six months ago? For a moment, he considered trying to play on the remaining five. That idea was quickly scrapped, and he gently laid the instrument back in its velvet-lined case, taking a moment to admire the deep russet contrasting against the wrinkled navy before shutting and latching it and placing it back on its place on his shelf. Adam glanced out the window beside, catching a glimpse of a small rabbit as it scurried into the hedge separating the Astors from the neighboring lot.

Dianna mishot her ball as soon as she heard the violin. "ADAM!" She shouted in a high-pitched voice. "Are you trying to practice the violin again? STOP IT!" She screeched, waving her stick around. Apparently the noise agitated her. "You had better not pick up that devil of an instrument again or so help me I'll come up there and knock you out!"

Upon hearing his sister's muffled shouting, he opened the window a crack so he could hear better. Her words felt reminiscent to accidentally pricking yourself while sewing - something sharp, quick, yet easily and swiftly forgotten. Adam shut the window again and headed downstairs to find himself some sort of lunch.

Dianna, after she was absolutely certain he had stopped, went back to playing her croquet game again, trying to pass the time.

Hours later, around twelve thirty in the afternoon, Anthony had finally arrived over at the Astor house, wide awake, dressed, and ready for the day. He approached Dianna, interrupting her croquet game by tapping her on the shoulder.

"Today, I was attacked by a chicken." he announced.

"You were? Gosh, Anthony, are you okay?" She asked, putting her croquet hammer down. "I hate chickens.."

"What?" he looked shocked. "I love chickens! But, I think I might have gotten it mad. I was getting the eggs this morning, and one of them started to act really frightened and jumped on my head." He glanced at the croquet set with fascination. "What are you doing?"

"I'm playing croquet. Don't you know how to play?" She asked, picking up another mallet off their rack and handing it to him. "You can be blue. I'm green."

Anthony backed away a little. "I-I'm fine. I'm a little busy today, anyway."

"Oh, you don't want to? Just a quick game! I've been playing myself all morning."

"Um... don't you have a brother though? Adam? The punk?" he suggested.

"Well, I'm not going to play him." She said distastefully. "He's been practicing that stupid violin again. He's making my ears bleed." Dianna forced the croquet stick into Anthony's hands, and took the first shot. "Ooh, that's a good one! Bet you can't beat it."

Anthony, deciding that there was no way out of this unless he played with her, used the mallet to the hit croquet ball a bit harder than she did. Honestly, he had no idea what the heck he was doing, so he thought it was a good thing when the ball almost went flying into the Astor's living room.

"Hah! That was a better shot then yours!" he cheered.

Well, that explains why he didn't want to play...
Dianna stared at the ball for a second, then turned to Anthony, smiling in a sort of painful way. "Anthony, the ball is supposed to go through the rings in the ground. And it's not about trying to break our windows.. Have you ever played croquet before?"

"Uh... no." Anthony shook his head sheepishly.

"Oh.." Her face fell, and she pondered the situation for a moment. "Well, okay! Here's how you play. Just try to get the ball through the hoops, and then you have to hit the pole there after you've gotten it through each hoop. They're in an order, do you see it? Just try your best, it gets easier."

12:30:
Adam was seated at the kitchen table, munching away on a lunchmeat and processed cheese slice sandwich he'd made for himself. What else could he do today? Read? He'd finished all the books he'd checked out from the library on the most recent trip. Do his bi-daily chores? If he grew desperate. See what his sister was up to? As an absolute last resort -- and by that, he means if suddenly every single human being and every last point of interest for him was caught up in some super-massive cyclone of fiendfyre.

In other words, not a shot.