Miss DiAnna Diaz

November 09, 2011 9:48 AM
Last year's pilot attempt at offering first year students a tour of the library had gone well, and so the library orientation was being repeated this year. First years had barely even started their classes, and so many of them had not yet had chance to visit the library. Instead of attending class following breakfast one morning, the first year students were required to meet in the library, at DiAnna's desk near the entrance from the main school (the entrance to the Aladren commons was also concealed within the library, but that would be one landmark she would keep quiet from the rest of the students).

DiAnna herself was waiting to meet the students. Some of them - most notably the Aladrens - had probably seen her around already. Those who hadn't might not be prepared to discover their school librarian was a young woman of twenty-five years, who was perhaps the Muggle fairytale pictoral representation of a witch (minus the warts, of cause). DiAnna's long hair was dyed black, she always wore dark eye make-up, and further whitened her already pale skin. Her wardrobe was composed almost entirely of black, with occasional flashes of purple and red, and was largely made of velvet and lace. Her feet were encased in high-heeled boots, that helped to put her above the height of the younger students (though several of the older kids were still taller).

"Okay, everyone," DiAnna called attention to herself. She'd gotten a lot more confident with addressing large groups of people since she'd accidentally become divinations professor for the past couple of terms. She was, however, pleased to be returning to her original duties this year. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Miss Diaz, the librarian. This morning we're just going to have a look round the library, because it can be quite daunting when you don't know what you're doing." her words were undoubtedly more or less identical to those she'd spoken to last year's group of first year students.

"Before we start, you should know that you can take out as many books as you like from the library, as long as you're being sensible. They need renewing after a week or they've been charmed to find their way back to the library." How they did this had never been very clear to DiAnna, but they somehow all ended up on her desk without the students' involvement. "Obviously, if you keep having overdue books, you'll be allowed to borrow fewer at one time than someone who returns books promptly, which could get you into trouble at the end of the year when you need to study for exams." It hadn't been a problem before, but it seemed fair to draw their attention to the potential scenario.

"That said, you can stay and study in the librry until ten minutes before curfew, and use any of the books without borrowing them. When you want to check a book out, just find me or one of the library monitors." That was something else she needed to explain. "The library monitors are student volunteers - the sign-up sheet will be going up next week," she pointed to the noticeboard, "and first years are welcome to sign up, too, as monitors or assistants." That was the basics covered; now for the books. "Okay, so if you could all stay together for the tour, that would be great."

Walking round with the first years, DiAnna showed them where they could find all their subject-relevant textbooks and some age-appropriate fiction. She also pointed out the restricted section, and made it very clear that students were not allowed to enter without staff permission. At the end of the tour, she addressed the group once more. "Okay, now you're free to have a look round properly, and if you want to come and check some books out, or if you have any questions, I'll be at my desk."

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Subthreads:
0 Miss DiAnna Diaz First years' library orientation 0 Miss DiAnna Diaz 1 5


Ephanie Lucore

November 10, 2011 1:18 AM
Ephanie was thrilled to discover that instead of going to class, they would be going to the library. She was lucky enough to have already been through the library to some extent since her house opening was behind a bookcase within the room. However, to have the pleasure of a tour was like a dream come true even if it was coming from someone that looked quite…well…frightening. She had no idea why anyone would want to wear so much black. It just seemed soooo depressing. It was a stark contrast to the scoop neck purple floral print dress she was wearing underneath her required forest green robes. The silver sandals were a nice touch and she could only imagine that they were more comfortable than the high-heeled boots the librarian was wearing.

She didn’t have much time to dwell upon this though as the woman dressed in black began to speak. While Ephanie knew that she was the librarian, she had not known her name and was pleased to learn that her name was Miss Diaz, because despite her dress would undoubtedly end up being of use to her over the course of the next year.

At the mention of the possibility of becoming a library monitor or assistant, a nervous sort of excitement and energy filled Ephanie. What would it be like to have such a responsibility? Her blue eyes looked over the entirety of the library with awe. It would be a dream come true. To know the library inside and out. To know every book down to the very last page. But was she ready? Did she really want to? She would actually have to help others, which would cut into the pure pleasure of working on her own. Dilemmas, dilemmas. She was going to have to seriously think about this.

But that could wait as the expedition of stacks began. Greedily, hungrily, she gazed at as many books as possible, attempting to find the ones that she would want to take out later though it was near impossible since there was so many. Though, her eyes rolled a bit when the age-appropriate fiction was pointed out. Most of the titles she had read quite a while ago and did not come near to the dramatic flair she yearned for. She was already a horrible addict of the soap operas that aired on the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network.)

Often, she was able to gain an understanding of how one was to behave through the shows. By doing so, she could translate this behavior to analogous situations that occurred in the plays she acted out in their dusty attic. There she could be the woman struggling to keep her family together or the puppet master pulling everyone’s strings. How frequently did the same characters appear in various forms? She wondered how many people actually realized that plays were nothing more than fancier soap operas for those that wished to think of themselves more dignified than indecorous.

Ending the tour, magic words were spoken to her ears. They were free to browse. Her feet nearly danced towards the books. There they were, waiting, waiting just for her. Which to choose first? Should she find something familiar or something new? A newer play caught her attention. It was called The Lion King. She had never heard of it and being an avid cat lover decided to browse through it. She was nearly through the first act when someone bumped into her causing her to drop her book. Sighing she picked it up and glared at the person. “It is customary to say excuse me, especially when you lose someone’s place.”
0 Ephanie Lucore Music to my ears. 0 Ephanie Lucore 0 5


Elijah Errant

November 10, 2011 3:49 PM
'She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.' The rest of the first years streaming past him, Elijah simply stood staring as the librarian - 'Miss Diaz, Miss Diaz, Miss Diaz, Miss Diaz.' He repeated the heavenly chorus again and again in his mind - cradling his left arm that was slung in a cast against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart, the rhythm picking up. It filled his ears, flushed him with a peculiar heat. 'The library is a wonderful, magical place.' It took him a moment before he followed, hurrying to catch up as the group turned a corner, gently weaving in and out of students to catch up to the front, and to Her. 'What should I say? How should I introduce myself?' His father, Julio, had often gone off on long tangents about the various loves in his lives he had conquered over the years, before he'd settled down and married (three times). 'But I bet father has never ever seen a woman as wonderful, as beautiful...' Dark brown eyes gazed up, feet walking independently of mind and rapidly beating heart. 'Ella es el pináculo de la belleza, de la vida, de todo. Ella es mi corazón, y como sirvo a mi corazón, escuchar sus latidos, seguir su ejemplo, así que voy a servir, escuchar y seguir ella.' Spanish flooded his mind, seeping into the blood that was rushing everywhere in wild torrents. When the tour ended, Elijah paused along with the other first years, leaning back against a bookshelf, gazing up at her, yearning for her eyes to fall down on him.

Sighing a little sadly as she went to go to her desk, Elijah's nails dug into the wood of a shelf, clenching his fingers, trying to work up the courage to go talk to the woman. His woman. The only woman he was sure to ever love the way he loved her now. 'If only I was taller.' While he was doubtlessly mature enough for her, he knew she wouldn't even notice him until he became tall enough. He'd wait a few weeks and then see how much he'd grown. Then he'd approach, lean over her desk and kiss her, her hand in his hand, lead her into the gardens and kiss her again, his Hippogriff Sombra circling above, occasionally shading them from the hot Arizona sun, then land gently on the ground, he'd pick her up and carry her onto the flying beast, Sombra would again take flight, and - abruptly his fantasy stopped the conversation of some kids interrupting the moment. Elijah pushed off from the desk, right hand sinking into the pocket of his forest green robes, gently stroking the surprisingly soft fur of his sleeping pet rat. Against his left thigh he could feel the rosewood wand pressing his skin through the other pocket. He didn’t feel comfortably using it and the brief instance of attempting magic had been rather pathetic since his wand arm was in a cast. He would have to remember to keep the fact that Sombra had wounded him away from Miss Diaz so she wouldn’t feel scared riding her.

“So…” Elijah muttered to himself, scratching the back of his head, fingers digging hard at his scalp beneath the thick mass of dark curls, his dark brown eyes blinking at the rows and rows of shelves. The library wasn’t nearly as fascinating as their guardian, but Elijah knew he didn’t have a chance with the woman unless he spent the future majority of his time here. He was a little worried since his record with librarians was not very good. He couldn’t help delighting in the little flashes of rage that struck their faces as he slowly, leisurely, almost lovingly ripped the pages from their seams. Usually these were at university libraries where they knew him as the son of Julio Errantez, an Ambassador and a generous lover of libraries. Punishing his son might have consequences for them. Elijah wouldn’t have minded so terribly getting in trouble, he didn’t even want the librarians to be hurt. He was just addicted to the way their faces contorted, interested in what pushed their buttons, and amused to find that he had the privilege of studying this in a way few others could get away with. ‘But I won’t do that here, I promise. I’ll be good to these books for her.

He continued wandering through the rows and rows of shelves, turning around, walking backwards occasionally, invariably swaying in and out of people’s way, even starting to make a game out of it. He imagined flying in the library; mounting his broom and kicking off, dipping down, pulling up sharply to avoid simple pedestrian book lovers, showing off for Miss Diaz who would no doubt appreciate a spark in her endless boredom of simply staring at rustled pages and book titles. “Ow!” A slight hiss escaped his gritted teeth, as Elijah accidentally turned in mid sway out of somebody’s way and into another girl’s, pushing against her with his left arm, the cast slipping a little in the loosened sling. As she gave an audible sigh and picked up her book, he adjusted the sling, raising his eyes to look at her as she glared at him. ‘I don’t seem to have much luck with women these days.’ He thought of Waverly.

“It is customary to say excuse me, especially when you lose someone’s place.”

“Give me a chance and I will.” Elijah fired back at her, brief color rising in his dark caramel skin. He glared back at the girl, but then the pain in his arm throbbed hot once, he closed his eyes, and then the pain settled down again. He opened them, the glare easing off, the lines relaxing into his smoothed over face. “Pardon me,” He gave her a shallow bow, inclining his head and a little of his back. “I didn’t mean to bump into you, and I’m sorry I lost your place.” He straightened up again, his voice a little colored with his Spanish accent but much cooler than normal, affecting the tones he’d learned to use when in polite society when in various Ministry or Pureblood balls around Europe. Hesitating, wanting to move on but not seem rude, he took a step toward the girl, glancing curiously at the title of an apparent play. “Do you… need help with finding your place?” No, that was stupid. “Or something?” He wasn’t really sure what to ask. He cleared his throat and asked again before she could answer. “I’ve never heard of this play. What’s it about?” Okay, well now he was just awkwardly intruding. Elijah felt this immediately and silently gave the girl permission in his mind to be rude and send him on his way.
0 Elijah Errant Pain to my arm. 0 Elijah Errant 0 5


Ephanie

November 15, 2011 1:31 PM
When the boy sniped back at her, but not with a barb, Ephanie starred at him curiously. He was different. If she had yelled at one of the boys back home, they would have hollered back, maybe even taken the book away from her. Momma said it was because boys took more time to turn into polite gentlemen than it did for girls to become young ladies. She said that when Ephanie became older, nearly all boys would be nice to her, but it would be up to her to find the one that was sincere and worthy of her affections. While she had never told anyone, this terrified her. She didn’t want to become older. She didn’t want the veela part of her to come out. She didn’t want people to be nice to her for that reason. Or worse, she didn’t want to look like a furious veela. They were frightening! And if it did happen, what if she couldn’t look like her again? The whole thing was awful!

Rather than thinking more about it, she turned her attention back to the book flipping through the pages. “No, it’s all right. I found where I was.” She placed her finger in the spot to keep from losing it again. She really wished she had a bookmark, but then she couldn’t very well mark it, as she hadn’t taken it out of the library yet. She would have to do so at the first opportunity she got, however, for now, she would answer the boy’s questions regarding the book. “I haven’t gotten very far in the musical. It’s called The Lion King and it’s about this lion cub named Simba and his uncle is evil. He kills Mufasa, the father and current king, and blamed Simba, so he can take the throne for himself. A lot of the songs are duets though so that’ll be a little awkward unless I can find someone else that can sing and wants to perform this with me.”

Realizing that she hadn’t gotten up off the floor yet, the Aladren stood up, facing the boy more fully. “You don’t happen to sing do you?” Then, just as quickly she waved her hand. “No, that was silly of me. You probably don’t or wouldn’t want to do this. So, what’s that on your arm?” The change of subject was abrupt, but she didn’t want him to feel obligated that he had to do so, because he had lost her place or something. Besides, she was curious to what was on her arm. She had never had a broken bone in her life so she had never seen what was on his arm. And the couple that Phoenix ended up having had been minor and easily fixed, not requiring such a device. “Does it hurt?”
0 Ephanie You should be more careful. 0 Ephanie 0 5


Elijah

November 16, 2011 9:39 PM
He'd been expecting annoyance but at the surprisingly sudden offer of a duet Elijah's shoulders relaxed and he smiled a little at the girl, head tilting to the side to study her. 'Wow, she's weird.' All girls were, of course, but this one was weird in a different, interesting way. Weird wasn't the actual word to describe it, but Elijah didn't know a better one. "Actually I - " She waved her hand and his words went in its direction, his mouth closing as she dismissed the subject. ' - wouldn't mind.' His stepmother Daniela was well known in Europe for her voice, oftentimes featured on Spanish radio. In Madrid, Carmen's room was next to his and sometimes at night he could hear Daniela sing songs to her daughter, her voice without words a soothing melody that dripped into Elijah's room, pooling around his bed and steadily rising until he was drenched in Daniela's voice. His dreams were always more peaceful on those nights. Wandering around the apartments, he would sometimes come across her singing, and at some point he had joined in. It was the only real communication the two of them had. She'd start alone in an empty room, he'd wander in, and then a quiet duet would blend into the air. There was nothing wrong in it, but neither of them had mentioned it to anyone. It had become a secret, though neither one could figure out why, and so neither he nor her allowed themselves to analyze it.

He was distracted from his disappointment by her focus on his arm. His smile spread and he raised it as much as he could within the sling. “It’s called a cast.” He stated proudly. “I got it from - ” He was about to recount the tale that had just unfurled in his mind; his Uncle Edward being evil, killing his father to gain the title King of Spain (Elijah knew people called Julio Ambassador Errantez, not King, but with all the things he was allowed to get away with, he sometimes wondered if Julio really wasn’t secretly King) and banishing Elijah to the Americas where he’d had to fight for survival, earning eternally traumatizing wounds such as his forever broken arm. However, Elijah realized just in time that he’d only thought of that because the girl had been speaking of a similar event. Too surprised by his own imagination to conjure up another spectacular tale, he continued on but with the truth. “ - my Hippogriff.” His face slightly darkened with lingering resentment. “I spend summers on my pépé’s ranch and when I’m done with my chores I’m allowed to go do whatever. A few of the Tamers took me flying and we were circling the whole Canyon and were coming back into the village. I think I was a little tired or something, my steering became a little off,” Elijah bent his knees a little and extended his right arm, fingers gripping the handle of his imaginary broom. “By the time I was flying back to the ranch I lost a little control. You know, there are different altitudes in the Canyon, and they can make you really dizzy if you’re not used to it. I totally,” He laughed a little. “I totally flew into Sombra - she’s my Hippogriff - by accident. She wasn’t even hurt but she went crazy and attacked me!”

Elijah straightened his stance, letting the broom fall away. “It stings a little now and then, it did during the Opening Feast and I could hardly even lift the spoon to my mouth. But it’s not as bad as when she actually got me with her claws.” He gave an exaggerated grimace. “They went in deep enough to touch bone. I...” He had passed out. “I struggled to get her off but finally the Tamers calmed her down. You can’t just pull Hippogriffs off, you know. They had to calm her down, and then they calmed me down,” Easily done, since he had passed out. “and then they pulled her claws out from my arm. They gave me potions and stuff so it’s healing but this,” He indicated the cast and splint. “Is just to prevent me from moving my arm badly while it’s still healing, and so I don’t do something stupid like signing up for the Quidditch team. But you only need one arm to catch the snitch anyways.” And if he lost his other arm he still had a mouth, and if his mouth was sealed shut he could always just rise in the air, slip over the side of his broom onto the little golden ball, hopefully pinning the stitch to the ground with his falling body.

“So, uh,” He peered again at the title of the girl’s play, trying to subtly bring the subject back around to singing. “You said something about duets?” Subtly was his forté.
0 Elijah But then we wouldn't have met. 0 Elijah 0 5