Sophie Jamison

December 13, 2010 6:24 PM

No, no; that's a wild pig. <i>That's</i> a wild boar. by Sophie Jamison

Sophie sighed as she tucked away her tape measure. She had barely grown at all! Oh, she had been hoping since coming to Sonora, she might have at least grown a few inches, but no. She had grown exactly one and one-quarter inches since arrival. Groaning, Sophie had reminded herself of just how short she was. People would be confusing her for a first year for a long time. True, she actually was one at the time, but there was no way she could get to the normal height of a first year until maybe she was fourteen or fifteen!

Sophie hated being a midget.

Moreover, she despised her situation. The person she had gained her midget-dom from --her mother-- was gone, ditched her before she could even surpass her in height! It was cruel to think of it that way, she knew, but she remembered her mother cooing to her ever since she was a baby about how one day, she could probably be taller than her. Sara Jamison had been five foot, two inches at complete height, her parents being both slightly under average. Sophie, however, had the upper hand. Jacob Jamison happened to be six foot, three inches. Currently, Sophia was exactly four foot, two and one-half inches, but she still had time to grow…right?

Oh! That was another thing she disliked: her full name. She was only Sophia in a few situations. The first would be if her father was angry at her, which was never a fun situation. The next was visiting her mother’s relatives. Euck. Another would be around an annoyed, frustrated, or distracted Serapes. He seemed to have a way about him that just made casual conversation strained at some times, but Sophie had found a way to tell the signs if it would be one of those days. She knew her family so well.

After properly hiding her tape measure in the suitcase from whence it came, Sophie decided to stop dwelling on her lack of vertical prowess and go pal around in her Common Room. The Pecari was not too close with many of her housemates, but she had at least met and gotten to know Neal a little bit from class and Quidditch. Other wise, the blonde was not all that well acquainted with her fellow Pecari. Sophie would proudly have stated to anyone who asked her that she had a best friend, but Ryan was a Crotalus.

Sophie was about to seat herself when her father’s owl dropped in, giving her a letter. In general, the letter was only what he had already said; how he was remorseful about the lack of time the two Jamisons had spent together of the holidays, and how he hoped she had forgiven him. Sophie shrugged as if he could see her physical response. There was nothing to forgive for; she was used to it.

After digging through her pockets, Sophie realized she had nothing to write back with. Spying someone else in the Pecari Common Room, she turned to them with a wide smile and said politely, “Excuse me, but do you have a piece of parchment and maybe a quill I could use? I want to write back to my father, and I won’t need much ink.” All she intended to write back in response was one word; Sure.
12 Sophie Jamison No, no; that's a wild pig. <i>That's</i> a wild boar. 34 Sophie Jamison 1 5


Sara Raines

December 15, 2010 1:42 PM

...I hope that's not a comment on my looks by Sara Raines

For most people, Sara knew, a selection of poetry written in a language not her first would have been more of an assignment than a present, but she was still delighted with the little book Aunt Margaret had sent her. Her vocabulary was still growing, of course, but her Spanish was good enough after being tutored when she was little and spending much of each summer in Spain with her cousin each year since she was seven for her to speak and write to Margaret’s various grandchildren in their first language without much difficulty, but this would give her not only a chance to practice her French, but also to show Margaret how much she had improved at reading it since last year. And since she was hoping to get to go to Belgium with her after Norway this summer…

Once she finished the thank-you letter – in English; she didn’t want to seem like she was showing off or anything distasteful like that – she found a comfortable seat outside of the action and danger zone of the common room and began to flip through the book, scanning for words she didn’t know. She wasn’t exactly surprised that some did jump out at her. Not only was her French not nearly as good as her Spanish, but she didn’t put it past Aunt Margaret to have somehow figured out exactly where Sara was with it, and to have made her selections accordingly.

Closing the book and putting it carefully between her and the side of the chair, she leaned over her knees for the bag resting beside her perch, searching for parchment and a quill to begin writing down the unfamiliar words and writing out what she could translate already. She wasn’t fully aware of it, but her posture was much more casual than usual: half-curled into the chair, her feet drawn up under her, and the cuffs of her long-sleeved white blouse unbuttoned and flipped back, baring her wrists, to keep any ink from getting on them. Her learning pose.

She had just come up with the relevant materials, her head swimming just a little from coming out of that position, and shaken her hair back when her roommate, whose presence she had, embarrassingly, not noticed, turned and asked to borrow her quill. She didn’t really want to – it was one of her good quills, and Sophia had never struck her as the most careful person known to wizardkind – but Sara handed the writing instrument over without hesitation. “Of course, Sophia,” she said. She tried to remember to call her Sophie, as she apparently preferred, but kept slipping up even after half a year. She just liked the sound of Sophia better. It reminded her of the Hagia Sophia, which was definitely on her list of places to visit someday. “It’s self-inking.”
0 Sara Raines ...I hope that's not a comment on my looks 179 Sara Raines 0 5

Sophie

December 25, 2010 5:12 PM

It's actually a movie reference... by Sophie

OOC: Sorry for the delayed reply, but Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

BIC:
The small blonde smiled politely when her roommate handed her the quill. Sara seemed like a nice enough girl, a regular pureblood lady, but that was what almost got on Sophie’s nerve. If she really wanted to deal with that kind of attitude, she could just go home to her maternal family. When she came to Sonora, the first year had been hoping for a change of pace, someone she could be her true self with, not someone she had to feign superiority for.

On that note, she really did like Sara. She didn’t see herself being best friends with the other Pecari, but they could get along well enough for the next few years, until they were done at Sonora. Then they could go their own ways, and Sophie would have no problem with that. Leaving behind her acquaintance one day would be fine.

Anyway, Sophie didn’t need to be best friends with Sara because she already had a best friend in Ryan. The Pecari had grown very fond of her Crotalus friend, and she wanted to get to know her declared best friend even better. Ryan was almost like her brother now, and she felt very protective of him. The thought of what would happen if someone wanted to mess with him had already crossed her mind, and the only solution she could live with herself with became clear. If anyone messed with Ryan, that person would soon face the wrath of a feisty little blonde throwing fists at their forehead.

“Thank you,” the blue-eyed Pecari beamed back in regards to the quill she was being loaned. Her left hand sank into the one pocket she hadn’t checked, and from that pocket it produced a half-crumpled piece of parchment. That’ll work, she thought and began to scribble.

Dear Dad,
Sure.
Love, Sophie.


That was all she needed to write. Afterwards, she further crumpled the paper by folding it into fourths. Her blue eyes scanned around for her father’s owl that had brought the letter, but the owl was gone. Sighing, she knew she would have to go get Pegasus, her own owl. Remembering her manners, she turned back to Sara and handed back the borrowed quill. “Thank you,” she said formally. Quite honestly, she didn’t feel like going to get Peg right then. Her pink lips still hosting a warm smile, the half-British Pecari offered, “And how are you, Sara? How was your midterm?”
12 Sophie It's actually a movie reference... 34 Sophie 0 5