Midterm had passed as it usually did for Mortimer, parties with annoying, boring people who wasted a lot of words on things that were not worth talking about. He hated small talk so much and that was all anyone brought up. The weather. Quidditch. Work at dull jobs. Even Mortimer hadn't had a good work story since Joe Umland almost punched him while aiming for his brother as he didn't really interact with the students much other than his own granddaughters. If someone was coming to see him, that probably meant they were in big trouble.
Bottom line was that if you weren't related to him-or, Mortimer supposed, friends with his grandchildren-you did not want to be on his radar.
Family get togethers were slightly better. Slightly . There were still an awful lot of small children about but none of his daughters-in-law were pregnant. Maybe Miles would be his last grandchild. Ben was done and he hoped Zeke was. He wasn't sure about Gene or Elmer and Eustace had yet to procreate at all-which Mortimer wasn't convinced was a bad thing- even though he still badly wanted a son. The headmaster wasn't holding his breath on this happening. Helena had had many miscarriages over the years.
Anyway, he looked forward to the day that Miles passed that loud little kid stage. The child wasn't quite four months old yet so it would be awhile.
Now it was time for the Returning Feast. The students filed in and took their seats. Mortimer stood up and said. "Welcome back to Sonora. I hope you all had a nice holiday. Before we begin, one small reminder. Uniform robes are to be worn during all classes." He had heard about one of the first years who never wore hers. Some people just didn't seem to get that rules applied to them too. Especially Pecaris. With that, he sat down and began to eat.
Subthreads:
<b><font color="#804000">Pecari Table Threads </font></b> by System
<b><font color="red">Crotalus Table Threads </font></b> by System
<b><font color="#e6ac00">Teppenpaw Table Threads</font></b> by System
<b><font color="#1a75ff">Aladren Table Threads</font></b> by System
<b><font color="#006600">Staff Table Threads</font></b> by System
With one year of marriage under her belt, Mary was entirely sure that she had no idea what she was doing. She didn't know how to make Tabitha smile every single time, or how to help her focus or let go or relax every single time. Oh, sure, they were happy and helping each other. For the most part, everything was fine. But marriage was a difficult reminder that there were not enough glasses of chocolate milk at midnight, not enough hugs, and not enough "I love yous" to make every single thing okay every single time.
With this in mind, it was with a renewed sense of empathy that Mary considered her colleagues. Some of them were married, some were not, and some were divorced for all she knew. The world seemed very big and present when it shared a bed with you at night, and it was never as hard to love the world as it was to love yourself.
It was nice to be back to school, and Mary's seat was between two staff members who were not her wife. This was done intentionally, as she certainly didn't need to spend every waking moment with only one person, and perceptions were important; students did not need to think of their professors as spouses as much as they did professors. Still, even with such a small distance between them - they were only a few seats away from each other and would be even if they sat at opposite ends of the table - Mary missed Tabitha. Perhaps that was what made love so special; while it absolutely made a new hole in the heart of those it enraptured, it was a hole that was neatly partner-shaped.
"Did you have a good break?" Mary asked with a small smile, feeling herself relax as she turned to the nearest staff member. "It's always bittersweet to be back, I think, and I never really feel caught up with everything!"
22Mary Brooding-HawthorneOne year down, a lifetime to go. 1424Mary Brooding-Hawthorne05
As Jezebel had learned upon her arrival at Sonora at the beginning of September, the first few days were the hardest. There were other days that were hard - Halloween had been difficult, as she usually spent that with her siblings, trick-or-treating and wearing costumes, often even matching ones - but none so hard as the very beginning. At the very beginning, homesickness and fear of change, as well as the feeling that everything was about to happen all at once, compiled themselves into one ferocious beast. Jezebel thought it sucked a lot.
The bright side was that Sonora had a thing for feasts. Every meal was sort of a feast in a way, but Opening Feasts and Returning Feasts seemed to be the real winners, and good food always massaged a sore heart. Jezebel took corn on the cob and a filet of some white fish she wasn't familiar with - better than the turkey and ham she'd been living on - and slathered the former with butter. Then, adding a pile of plain spaghetti to her plate, she put butter on that as well. Her mother would be terribly disappointed in such a monochromatic, high fat, high carb meal, but she would've had to appreciate the diversity of product; at least it was meeting several of the food groups.
Pushing her hair back over her shoulders and finding that she was at least a bit glad for the green robes for their role in protecting her shirt from any spillage, she dug into her meal with gusto. Students around her began eating and chattering as well, and Cascade Hall was quickly filled up with noise. It was a comforting sound, which surprised Jezebel; she had, it seemed, missed Sonora.
Or perhaps she'd missed magic. She'd come to identify with her magical ability much more quickly than she'd expected - if she'd expected to ever do so at all - and that was made all the more true by the fact that her mother was more accepting of it now as well. Not to mention the fact that she was no longer the only magical person in her household, although she wondered whether that only hurt Marcus' feelings even more.
"It's good to be back," she decided aloud to the student nearest her. She already knew that most of the Crotali students were not muggle born and didn't prefer to bandy that about as a topic of discussion, as there was not likely to be much understanding on it anyway. "Does your family celebrate Christmas?"
22Jezebel Reed-FischerCue homesickness in 3...2...1...1454Jezebel Reed-Fischer05
Sitting down in the Cascade Hall, Jessica was surprised to feel a flash of relief. Whatever else was wrong with the place, at least here, she didn't have to remember, at every public moment, that she was supposed to be sick. At least here, she didn't have to constantly worry over how it might affect the company if the watchers saw her lose control of It again - a condition which seemed to make It become more unpredictable and difficult to control.
Freaks of a feather flock together/Perhaps it's necessary, even better/Cowering beneath artificial weather...
No, she wasn't going to write that down. It went nowhere. She had, with some effort, finally prevailed upon Mara to give her some feedback other than 'it's good,' and Mara had said that there were a lot of images, but that sometimes they didn't seem to go anywhere. Of course, it was relevant that Jessica hadn't shown Mara all of her work, but she thought the point was fair. Plus, she just didn't want to follow that line of thought too far.
After the Headmaster finished reminding them to wear their uniforms (Jessica glanced toward the Pecari table and had to suppress a flash of a smile), the food appeared. Jessica had almost gotten used to food just appearing from thin air, and could eat it, so long as she didn't think too much about whether contact with magic somehow contaminated the food like radiation and could make her more magical. Finding herself next to Felipe, she smiled at him.
"Buenas noches," she said. "Tuviste un viaje agradable?" Did you have a good trip?
16Jessica HaylesHere I go again.1442Jessica Hayles05
Felipe's break had been ordinary, which wasn't very ordinary apparently. He'd learned a lot about how other families did the holidays when he'd talked to Zara about it the year previously, and of course his tutors made sure he was well versed on international holiday traditions. This made him more valuable, and it helped him fit in better at a school abroad. This was also his last break at home with Leonor before she was a student herself. Summer was coming, but she'd be preparing for the transition to school which would make it different than other summers.
Felipe felt bittersweet about his sister's pending attendance at Sonora. On one hand, he was eager to have his sister - the brighter, cleverer, more interesting of the De Matteo siblings if he was to make that judgement - immersed in her education. It might become clearer sooner whether she was apt to take over the family line in Felipe's place, and he'd get to see her more often. At the same time, he knew it was unlikely for the inheritance to shift, and having her present, outdoing Felipe by virute of her existence, would be painful. He'd get to see her doing all the things he just couldn't do as the heir to the De Matteo legacy.
He put those thoughts aside as he took his seate at the Crotalus table and listened to the Headmaster's speech. What a droll man. He was glad when he found that he and Jessica had managed to sit next to each other, but waited until the speeches were done to speak, so as not to interrupt. As it turned out, she spoke to him first, which was a nice way to validate that their friendship was mutual. He smiled at her.
"It was very good," he replied in English. "My family sends their regards." His family had also sent a card - a non-magical one so as not to panic Jessica's family with the way the cards moved; Zara's family had gotten a much more exciting magical one, per the conversation their parents had had in the Spring - and a box of Mexican chocolates, cigars, and a hand-painted tea set for the children of the family, but that didn't need to be brought up as to do so would be terribly impolite. "How was your break?"
22Felipe De MatteoHere WE go again.1434Felipe De Matteo05
"Fine," said Jessica, also switching back to English, when asked about her holidays. "My cousins all think I'm dying, so nobody fought me for the last helping of chocolate delight on New Year's," she said, her tone clearly facetious, though she didn't know herself exactly who it was she wanted to mock.
Dropping back into sincerity, she added, "I appreciated what you and your family send us - I hope you got our cards okay, and our thank-you notes."
The extra gesture of a thank-you note had been necessary, as the De Matteos had sent more than just a Christmas card. Her father had been endlessly amused by the cigars - he had, of course, never smoked in his life. It would not do for the head of Arvale to have skin like a sheet of leather even if he was a man. Her father's skincare routine was as extensive and tailored to his individual face as her mother's. Everyone had enjoyed the chocolates, however, and she had played tea party at length with Lola with the tea set. It was, she thought, serendipitous that they had sent a gift which was perfect for using with her little sister when Felipe naturally had no way of knowing that she wasn't an only child, or that she would still be willing to play with the help's children after all these absences.
She assumed her father had sent something nice for Felipe's parents as well - he seemed to think there was something to cultivate in this relationship they had established with the Mexican family - but she had packed up some scented glosses and a pretty little charm pendant for Leonor and for Felipe, she had obtained a book about Atlanta and, thinking of his affection for snacking while working, a tin of pecan pralines and a packet of caramel-covered popcorn. She decided not to mention them now, though, to preserve the surprise for when she could actually produce the items in question.
Felipe considered Jessica for a moment, not sure whether to sympathise or support. On one hand, it didn't sound like home was a very accepting place right now. At the same time, she got more chocolate. Chocolate delight at that.
"Honestly though," he said, scratching the back of his head and smiling sheepishly, his formal countenance dropped in favor of one more casual. "That might be worth it. I'll have to give it a shot next time I'm with Leonor." He thought for a moment. "She probably wouldn't care."
"We did, yes," Felipe smiled, adopting his airs again. "It was nice of you to send those. I'm sure it's been difficult acclimating to owl mail. I assure you that we would accept parcels by your regular post if they ever tended to arrive."
The holiday was, as usual, about everybody else. That that was unusual did not cross Felipe's mind, and so he did not mention it. They hosted events for the community, they gave to those in need, and they offered whatever they could to their people. That Felipe and Leonor were the faces of the De Matteo family's position only served to remind Felipe that his life was never really going to be about him, whatever he wanted it to be. Or at least, whatever he might have wanted it to be if he'd had any way to know that there might be anything else it could be. As it was, he had little reason to complain. Besides, he was trying to be a better human, and this seemed suited to that end.
"It was very fulfilling," Felipe decided after mulling the question over for a moment. "It is always nice to spend time among our people, and to enjoy Los Jardines de Platas. I was able to catch up on some reading over the break, which was good." He'd read almost everything there was to read about agriculture and economics already, but there was a new strain of infection that was taking root in some of the plants at home and he'd been able to review what he knew about it and dive into some new titles on the cultural impacts of changes to agriculture as well. Many were sourced in the United States, which made them doubly or triply beneficial to his education. "Other than being sick" - he raised his eyebrows in a sarcastic smirk - "how was yours? Your family celebrates Christmas if I remember correctly?"
22Felipe De MatteoUp and out, I should think.1434Felipe De Matteo05
"It was a really good chocolate delight," admitted Jessica. "I'm not sure that you can play the energy processing disorder excuse, though, since she knows why you're away from home."
She smiled at the acknowledgment that it was really weird to get used to getting mail from owls. "It's...been interesting," she admitted. "But it is a little more reliable than trying to send mail to the remote corners of Mexico."
Felipe's holiday sounded fairly normal to her, or something akin to her old normal. Holidays were often spent at a flurry of events, with much of her downtime being spent quietly reading to recuperate from them. She nodded when asked about Christmas.
"Yeah," she said. "We're Methodists. Mommy said I shouldn't go to the candle service because I'm supposed to be sick and it doesn't start until nine o'clock, but I got to see some nice services anyway. Plus, they let me go to the company Christmas party again! For a few minutes, anyway. Mommy didn't want me to do that, either, but Daddy started this scholarship for the employees' kids after I was born, and he decided I'm old enough that I should be on stage when they presented it, so I got to go for like ten minutes for that." She sighed. "I think I miss museums the most, after just...being at home," she said, fiddling with the watch-locket she had gotten at the Met shortly before she found out what she was, "but I miss being part of the company and events and things, too. Though I guess I do get to work on my poems more than I used to during Christmas."
Felipe was surprised to hear Jessica talk so directly about what her pretend illness was at home because she rarely opened up so directly. It seemed that humor was maybe a good way to speak to her. That or Felipe's formalities were just familiar enough that she could speak more openly. Either way, Felipe was glad he could be someone she could talk to. He didn't know whether she had anybody else, but it was always nice to have someone.
He chuckled at her comment, as was polite, and then cocked his head to show he'd thought about it. "You know, energy processing disorder is pretty spot on. There are theories that magical ability is just a genetic mutation that allows some people to control the energy in their body and in the environment differently than others." It had been a tough concept for him, as twelve years old was a bit young to learn about genetics, but that was a De Matteo education for you. "It's not a disorder and you're not sick, but that might actually be a good way to help wrap your head around it." He ended with a noncommittal shrug, hoping to assure Jessica that she was under no obligation to talk about this further if she didn't prefer to.
He nodded understandingly as she spoke about Christmas and the company parties. While businesses weren't really a part of his life, he did understand the pressure to appear appropriately for groups that were important to his father and his family as a whole. There was a legacy to uphold.
"I've never been to a museum," he said with a frown as he realized the oversight in his education. In fact, he was learning a lot about life from Jessica, as he also had very little knack for poetry, despite having been tutored in the classics, and Methodism was something he'd only studied, never experienced.
He wondered how his parents would feel knowing that sending their son and heir to a school in the United States was hardly more exposure to real life experiences than was keeping him home at rural Los Jardines de Plata. Perhaps there was a summer abroad in his future. He stifled a sight at the thought, despite knowing full well that it would be implemented were he to suggest it. He made a mental note to write to his parents on the matter as soon as possible; his duties were crucial whether he liked them or not.
"I'd love to read your poetry if you'd like to share it."
22Felipe De MatteoOr sunshine? 1434Felipe De Matteo05
With Edgar sleeping soundly on Evelyn's pillow - and Evelyn once again grateful she didn't have the sort of roommates that Ness did - everything seemed right with the world. Evelyn had left the little squish upstairs and gone down for dinner with a renewed sense of purpose and readiness, despite some of her regular nerves. She wasn't used to being a positive person, and that bothered her. She wanted to be better. It was no longer just because she wanted to do it for other people's sake, but actually for other people. For their happiness. For their joy. For the contribution that she might be able to give others. She had determined that she would talk to Professor Wright again periodically to check in about her magic and to work on learning to control it better, so things were looking up as a whole.
With her hair up in a bun, her lips painted brown, and her eyes shadowed with brown and gold, Evelyn was excited for the return to term. She usually reserved such colors for opening feasts, when new Pecaris would be joining the table, but Evelyn was feeling more proud than usual of who she was and wanted to take advantage. She took a moment to search for Ness and then Heinrich, throwing contented smiles to each before settling into her seat at the Pecari table.
When the headmaster finished his speech, Evelyn dug into the feast with less gusto than usual. As it turned out, she ate much better at the McLeods than at home, maybe just by virtue of the cohesiveness and size of the group, and Sonora was feeling more comfortable than usual. Still, Sonora food was delicious and a good meal was always that. She took some meatloaf and mashed potatoes, smothering the latter with gravy, and smiled at the student across the table from her.
"Happy new year," she smiled. "And new term. Did you make a New Year's resolution?"
22Evelyn StonesNew term, new me.1422Evelyn Stones05
Hilda trudged out to the Pecari table with a reluctance born not so much by what she was going to as what she was walking away from. She wanted to sit with Johana Leonie or, failing her best friend, one of their brothers. But it was a feast and Feasts were a bit more formal about seating arrangements and Heinrich would frown at her if she sat anywhere but at Pecari’s table.
So she instead looked for Evelyn who was at least learning German and seemed to be good enough friends with Heinrich that she sent him weird muggle foods for Christmas that actually made him crack a smile for some reason, and more noteworthy, got sent a Learning German notebook from Heinrich for the holiday. This was remarkable for two reasons. The first was that it meant Heinrich thought Evelyn was actually interested in the language, which meant she wouldn’t get upset with Hilda if she said something in German by mistake.
The second was that Heinrich actually had a real actual mutual friendship with someone at the school other that Hilda. As it took four years for that to happen, Hilda was kind of interested in getting to know the sort of person who could break through his barriers.
So it wasn’t with the total dread that usually accompanied enforced meals with English speakers that she sat down across from the brown lipped older girl. It was an odd choice, and frankly, Evelyn stuck her as kind of an odd girl, but she knew how to ask for eggs in German and had managed to get Heinrich to like her, so Hilda was willing to forgive a little bit of weirdness.
The speech was mercifully brief, though oddly long for the Headmaster, and she made a mental note to ask Heinrich about it later because she’d gotten lost shortly after ‘welcome back.’ He hoped something nice. And before wearing something they we supposed to ... she didn’t know. English was still so hard and it was so annoying not to be able to understand even short little speeches like that, which presumably had important information if the exceptionally short-winded Headmaster was bothering to mention it.
Evelyn was also briefly understandable before she too slipped into unfamiliar vocabulary. Gah. Why did her brain and English hate each other so much? Couldn’t they get along for just one conversation? Just long enough to make sure Evelyn was a good person for Heinrich to be friends with? Of course, if she wasn’t, it was already too late, but Hilda would at least be forewarned and would be ready to pick up her brother’s pieces when he broke.
Hopefully, though, that wouldn’t be necessary. Heinrich had trust issues bigger than the former Berlin Wall. If Evelyn got past those, she was probably worthy.
Probably.
If not, he was going to crumble just as hard as the Wall did.
Which was why Hilda felt it necessary to make sure.
Which would be easier if she could understand what Evelyn had just asked her, because as a conversational opening, it probably wasn’t super complex or deep, which did not bode well for Hilda understanding anything that was complex and deep, and that was the sort of thing she wanted to know about Evelyn.
Where was Professor Schmitt when she needed him?
“I sorry,” she apologized with a bit more self-directed frustration showing than she would have liked. “I know not word. Resluschun?” she tried to reproduce the sounds of the unknown word that was breaking her ability to make sense of the rest of the question.
She hated English. She really did.
1Hilda Hexenmeister Was sind deine Absichten?1433Hilda Hexenmeister 05
Jessica nodded casually to the description of genetic mutations. "Yeah, that's - pretty much how we've dealt with that - Mommy and Daddy and I," she clarified.
'Pretty much' was the important bit. At the beginning, she thought she and her parents had all thought of it very much as a disorder, a disability, a hindrance. The liaisons had convinced them that her abilities were extremely dangerous and needed treatment to keep them from killing her - a thing echoed by Professor Skies when she had gotten here. The random bursts of - whatever - when she was stressed - things she did to the environment around her without knowing how she did them, or how to undo them, or even that she had intended to do them - also made it feel rather like a curse, so on those grounds, it was a disorder.
However, with a disorder, one sought to minimize the symptoms. That was what Jessica had assumed she was at Sonora to do, but nobody else seemed to see that as a goal. Instead, they wanted her to use It, just a bit more...deliberately. She also couldn't help but notice herself that almost everything she did was something to defend herself against perceived threats - opening doors or sealing them shut, lashing out at threatening creatures in the gardens. Being able to defend herself was a good thing; there was power in that, of a kind that she thought was generally unavailable to women....
All of this was, however, something she thought it would be foolish to talk about, so she kept it to herself.
She raised an eyebrow at the notion of having never been to a museum. "Oh, we have got to fix that," she said, slipping a bit more into the cadence of Southern English. "I always go to the museums anywhere I travel with Daddy, and we've got some good ones in Atlanta, too - there's the High, of course, and Emory has this fantastic little museum, and...well, we've got plenty of culture. My family helps make sure of it," she added proudly. "Half my family sponsor free admissions days to museums and botanical gardens and things around the city. It's important to support access to education and things, don't you agree?"
She was a little surprised to hear a boy express an interest in reading her poems. "I can pull some of the good ones for you," she agreed. She had rarely been shy about sharing her work; some of her poems were private, especially the upset ones she had written when she had first been sent here, but as a rule she wrote on the assumption that she would eventually have an audience.
16JessicaWe'd have to worry about incineration.1442Jessica05
The Headmaster’s speeches were short enough that not even Anya could quite manage to tune them out before they were over. Tonight, she kind of wished she had. Jasmine was frowning at her, wearing that look that was a conflicted mix between I-told-you-so and why-am-I-related-to-you?, and even Anya felt a little bit mortified to be called out in front of everybody. He didn’t use her name, of course, but she wasn’t wearing her uniform at the feast and it wouldn’t be hard for the older students to extrapolate that she was the troublemaker who didn’t wear it to class either.
Still, he didn’t harp on it too much (she kind of thought the Headmaster might be constitutionally incapable of harping on anything because that would require too many words - or maybe he thought he just did harp on it a lot, but Anya was used to her mother and Holly Delachene was a master at harping on a thing so Anya didn’t mind his version so much aside from it being so very public) so her acute embarrassment passed just as quickly, leaving only a slight discomfort in her belly as the food appeared.
Deciding that could best be appeased with a lot of starch, she reached for the mashed potatoes and dolloped a large helping onto her plate. Smiling at her neighbor like she hadn’t just been reprimanded by the Headmaster himself, she asked cheerfully, “Did you have a good Christmas?”
Winston was smiling as he walked into the Cascade Hall. He felt about seven feet tall and wondered if maybe he had actually grown a couple of inches over midterm (which would still put him at under six feet in reality but that wasn’t the point) because Sonora suddenly felt so small.
Kir could be Head Boy. He could be second place in the challenges as compared to Winston’s seventh.
It didn’t matter. Sonora’s little achievements were insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
Because Winston was winning at Life.
He looked over at the Aladren table a beamed happily at his betrothed. Emerald wanted to marry him. Just as importantly, all of their parents thought that was a great idea, too. Even Druscella gave a warm blessing to their arrangement, which was something Thaddeus definitely hadn’t earned with his choice of wife.
With such a bright and beautiful young woman agreeing to be by his side for the rest of their lives, Winston was eager to just leave Sonora behind and start living that future as soon as possible. Of course, first he needed to earn good RATS scores to ensure their life together got off to an auspicious start, but the petty hindrances of Sonora no longer held any power over him.
Naturally, they would attend college next, as being uneducated was unbecoming, but they could get housing off campus, hopefully as a married couple, though rushing a wedding wouldn’t be proper either. He did hope that one could be arranged by the and of August, though. They’d know soon when the date was set for, if they’d have a summer wedding, or if they’d have to wait until fall or even next winter.
And with luck, by the time they graduated college, they’d have a house on the Mountain to call their own. He wasn’t quite sure who would get booted out to make room, or how much home shuffling would be involved, but he had high hopes that he and Emerald would get ranked higher than Thaddeus and his muggle-blood tainted family.
The sound of his own footsteps were the only proof he had that he wasn’t actively floating over to the Crotalus table, and he smiled at and greeted more people than he normally did en route (though, obviously, nobody truly improper). Sitting down, he tried not to beam too much like an idiot at his neighbor but he wasn’t sure he was successful. And once the food was served, and he tried to say hello and ask after the other student’s break, what he actually said was, “Emerald and I are betrothed!”
OOC: Future plans/midterm betrothal discussed with Emerald’s author
1Winston The Future is Bright and Beautiful.370Winston 05
It took Evelyn a moment to realize why the face she had smiled at was so familiar. At first, the "duh" moment of knowing that she was looking at a classmate, both in the sense that they were Pecaris and the fact that they had had classes together, had to pass. Then there was something familiar about the blonde hair and eyes. Then, finally, Evelyn realized it was Heinrich's sister. She felt stupid and then she felt bad and then she felt some weird flush in her cheeks that didn't seem necessary but wouldn't go away for a moment. Luckily, she was warm and excited and she doubted anyone could have noticed the flush, except maybe Ness because Ness knew her too well not to notice.
"My bad," she replied, not having realized that Hilda's English might be so different from Heinrich's.
Evelyn hadn't spoken much with any of the German students at school except Heinrich, who had mentioned enough times that his youngest sibling had a better grasp on English that Evelyn had apparently just generalized that to all language learners younger than Heinrich. Although she was pretty sure the other German family actually lived in Germany, so their English was probably even newer to them than was the Hexenmeister family's. Heinrich had mentioned that Hilda struggled with the language though, so she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. She shifted her thoughts to prepare for that, fairly used to speaking with students for whom English was not their first language, as Sonora was full of students with different backgrounds.
"A resolution is like a goal. Something you want to do in the new year. Does that make sense?"
She was completely at a loss to describe the feeling in her stomach. It was something between desperation and care. On one hand, she really wanted Hilda to like her. It mattered a lot, although she wasn't entirely sure why. On the other hand, she knew enough about Heinrich's life to know that Hilda hadn't exactly had an easy go of everything either, and she wanted to make sure that even if the younger Hexenmeister didn't like her, she knew she had someone around. Evelyn would be willing to talk to her and be her friend if she wanted.
That also raised the question about what Heinrich had said about her. Had he talked about her at all? Did Hilda know they were friends? It felt good to say that they were friends, even if it was only in the safety of her own head. Evelyn tried to imagine Heinrich sharing his Pop-Tarts with his sister, and smiled a little more softly at the thought. She'd gotten a Learning German book over break as well, which made her think that Heinrich was at least thinking of her, if not speaking of her. It had also helped quite a bit with occupying her time and she'd been practicing to get ready for the new school year.
"Mein Deutsch ist schlecht," she apologized, speaking slowly and cringing at her own pronunciation. It wasn't awful . . . but it really wasn't good. "War der...die Winterpause gut?" Her inflection turned into a question at the article and she blushed more obviously. "Sorry," she murmured. "Es ist schlecht. Do you want me to try German? Or just English?"
OOC -- Evelyn said "My German is bad. Was the . . . the winter break good? Sorry. It is bad." I tried to only use the spit of German that I know myself for an idea of "basic beginner" level and you can safely assume she's pronouncing it pretty dang badly.
22Evelyn StonesGut Neu Jahre.... right?1422Evelyn Stones05
Freddie smiled as Jessica seemed to perk up about museums. He wasn't exactly sure what it meant to have "plenty of culture" but he wasn't going to tell her that. At least she did seem to have some more world knowledge than some of the people at Sonora. It seemed most of the school would have considered Jessica's two languages a novelty and he thought that was rather odd and a bit disappointing. For people with no access to education, sure, one language made sense. These people all had at least some education . . . why did they insist on only learning enough of one language to get by? Who were they going to talk to if they traveled? It didn't cross his mind to think that they just might not travel. Or care.
"I have been to a cultural center. Is that the same thing?" he asked, thinking of Zara's family's center. It was probably a bit different than an art museum or history museum or something like that, but he wasn't entirely sure. Besides, when he'd gone then, he'd been with Zara and her family and his family and just too many people to be paying as much attention to their surroundings as to his comportment.
"Education is very important," he agreed, pleased that Jessica echoed his own thoughts so eloquently. "Money should never be a barrier."
Jessica was always acting exactly as she should, except when she really really wasn't, and that interested Felipe. Zara was always acting perfectly good, but Jessica was always acting perfectly proper. It was an important difference and one that he knew could be dangerous. He saw more of himself in Jessica, and very little of Zara in himself. It was a flaw he hoped to change, although he wasn't sure whether someone could be both things. He wondered whether the world would implode or just suddenly be very efficient and kind if Zara and Jessica were to run it together.
"Thank you," he smiled. He was generally better with math and figures than with the written word but he'd been trained on it so he didn't doubt that he'd at least be able to tell whether it was any good or not. However, the mind was only half of the point of poetry. In that particular art, only the soul would do. "Do you paint or play music as well?"
22Felipe De MatteoSomeone should have told Icarus. 1434Felipe De Matteo05
Things were pretty great. Dorian was surprised to find himself feeling that as he settled back into the Cascade Hall. Normally, coming back in itself was his reason to be happy, as he got to leave Québec behind, got to shrug off the heavy weights that pulled him down when he was around his brother. But this time, it wasn’t that; he was just happy. He had had happy holidays. He felt a little bit bad about saying that because he was pretty sure his great-great-grandfather or someone was basically dying. Mama had been in China for a few days when it had got serious. She hadn’t wanted to miss the children being home though, and had come back to Canada once he seemed a bit more stable. Stable did not mean healthy though, and he was pretty sure his Mama was heading back as soon as they were gone. It was sad, in the way that anyone dying was sad, but the only way it had more impact on him than reading about a death in a newspaper was because it was affecting his mother. And, he supposed, he might be expected to go on a sudden trip to China. This was one reason that he was glad to be back, in that here he was free to indulge his happiness, to relax and smile.
Tatiana and Jehan had both received triumphant letters detailing Matthieu’s dressing down. The one to Jehan had gone deeper into Dorian’s fears and doubts, as he was more prone to do with Jehan - he could not really believe that things with Matthieu were over, or that it could be so simply fixed that one parental lecture was going to change Matthieu’s nature. There was the basic problem that they still hated each other to a point at which they could not co-exist. But for now, Matthieu had been shamed enough to leave Dorian alone by whatever else their father had gone and said to him (they had not worried Mama with it, given everything else that was going on). Matthieu still spat and snarled. He still muttered snide insults under his breath. But for the rest of the holidays, Dorian had not been tripped or hit or pushed, and was coming back to Sonora free of the scent of bruise balm. That in itself, was a reason to smile.
There was also the person behind that victory. Dorian had had a fun remainder of midterm. With his friend. It felt strange to think of home as a place that had one of those. It had always had the pull on his heart of having his Mama and Émilie - who made him want to go back, feel guilty about how part of him didn’t want to, and who he would always miss whenever he left. But now he had a friend too. He knew Jean-Loup had just been doing his job, and Dorian hadn’t been convinced that he wouldn’t be very, very relieved to see the back of him, but had nonetheless felt compelled to say thank you, and to let him know how things had gone with Matthieu, as he’d seemed so genuinely concerned. It was surprisingly hard to find a thank you gift that wasn’t plain odd but also didn’t have romantic connotations - at least if you were an overly embarrassed sixteen year old who read far too much into everything - and also seemed like enough for someone who had healed you, not freaked out about you getting overly friendly with them, and also basically stopped you getting beaten up because how did you even go about thanking someone for all that? He’d gone with chocolate. It potentially failed on all counts apart from not being odd, but even though chocolate could be romantic, it really felt like it depended on the type - if you got flouncy swirly little chocolates in boxes, and they were flavours like strawberry cream - basically, if you got girl chocolate - then obviously that came across as really gay and just because he was really gay didn’t mean he wanted to come across that way. In the wake of almost kissing a guy, worrying what your chocolate choice said about your sexuality might have seemed like closing the stable door after the hippogriff had bolted, but he was trying to correct that rather than do anything that might make it worse. He had gone for hot chocolate spoons, the kind of nice, dark chocolate you could melt-and-stir into hot milk. Dark chocolate was more masculine. Hot chocolate wasn’t the same as a box of chocolates. It was a good choice for someone who was spending most of the day out on a frozen lake, and was just nice, hetero non-romantic chocolate, of the kind that boys just gave other boys/people who had basically saved their life.
Jean-Loup had seemed to like it. Weirdly, Jean-Loup seemed to like him. In spite of… just… everything. When Dorian had dropped off the gift, he’d invited him to hang out.
"After all, we still have around seven hundred herbs and fungi still to go, and I for one am dying to see how that ends."
Dorian had been standing stiffly and awkwardly feeling like he wanted to run or apologise for taking up space or time. He had expected Jean-Loup to be patient and polite, but he had not expected more than that. He had stuttered his way through his thanks and hedged his way around whether he owed further apologies. Now he found himself smiling.
"I’m guessing, with the letter Z," he suggested.
“Wow. Out there theory.”
Obviously, they had not read a plant encyclopedia to pass the time. But Jean-Loup had made up some of the hot chocolate and they’d settled by the fire, and Dorian had had a momentary flash of how conjuring up such coziness could definitely be construed as romantic and that sinking into someone in front of a fire and getting kisses that tasted like chocolate sounded rather perfect. But only if it was the perfect person opposite him, which it was not. Because he was in love with Jehan, not Jean-Loup. And he’d sat himself a respectable distance away, and it had been… just friendly. And it was a nice memory to let his mind drift back to. He let the headmaster’s words wash over him, after all he never said anything much anyway, a contented smile on his face.
Jessica tilted her head slightly to the side as she considered whether a cultural center was the same thing as a museum. "I think it might depend on what's in it, exactly," she said slowly. "Like, cultural centers could have museums, or just be where people do living culture - music and food and theater and stuff. But they're definitely part of the same family," she concluded approvingly, with a warm smile. "What kind of cultural center was it?" she asked curiously.
She nodded automatically at the idea that money should pose no barrier to education. "Exactly," she said. "My uncle Jason ran for state House last year, and part of his platform was about trying to lower tuition at the universities, and stuff about relief for student loans." Uncle Jason had had to particularly play down that last part - even with the Groves name behind him, in part of the family stronghold, there was only so far he could go in Georgia - but it had been in there, especially in speeches at universities. "He probably won't get anywhere with it, not at home, with the rest of the Assembly being the way it is, but he'll try his best," she added casually. Everyone knew it was impossible to achieve anything right now, with their family on the wrong side of the aisle; aside from attack ads about Uncle Jason's connection to Arvale, there had also been plenty calling him a Communist, and the election had been close.
"I took the classes in school - art and music - but I've never done much with them outside of school, unless you count singing at church and children's programs and things. I usually just enjoy those things, though. What about you? Or Leonor?"
Being a poor English speaker in an American school, Hilda got at least half her communication through facial expression. So she noted Evelyn’s embarrassment but chalked it up to saying a word Hilda didn’t know when she was likely aware of Hilda’s trouble with the language. She tried to explain it, and Hilda mostly followed, if only because ‘goal’ was also a Quidditch word and the English and German for New Year didn’t sound terribly different even if their spellings were. She nodded slowly.
“I have goal,” she said, assuming the original question had been about Hilda’s new year goals. “I speak more good Englisch.” Of course, that was an old goal and not particularly related to the new year, but it was (still) where she needed the most improvement. “Und du?” she asked without irony or even conscious realization that she had slipped back into German right after saying she needed to work on her English. ‘And you?’ again sounded close enough that most people could guess through context that was what she meant.
Then Evelyn spoke in German. Horrible German, yes, but German. Hilda couldn’t help but giggle a little as she mixed up her articles and struggled with the pronunciation. “I sorry,” she apologized immediately, deciding to stick mostly with English so she didn’t run off with too hard vocabulary the way the Americans always did to her. “It is hard, yes? Learnen new language. Bad Deutsch is more good against no Deutsch.” Then she answered, “Meine Winterpause war gut,” speaking slowly and offering the words their correct pronunciation so Evelyn could correct herself. “How was yours?” she returned in her very best English.
Learning to talk was hard. Hearing Evelyn butcher German reminded her it was okay to make mistakes. It also made her want to prove she really had learned something over the last four years since she moved to America and she wasn’t a total dunce.
Parker was surprisingly not hungry. As of late he had felt like there was a pit in his stomach that food simply could not fill. But some how after breakfast today the pit had acquired a lid of some sort.
He had sat quietly on the wagon ride into school, nodding to his sisters plan to start some sort of club. He hadn't been paying close attention. Instead his thoughts were... well no where really. He was trying to figure out where the hole had gone.
As they got off the wagon he had smiled at Lyssa and promised her something... he couldn't remember what exactly, and had gone off to his room to put things down.
Something felt off. He couldn't explain what it was, but he felt off and he didn't know what it was. He'd put on his robes, which made it hard to really move the way he wanted and had walked into the Hall not fully paying attention to anything.
Though when the Headmaster started speaking Parker paid attention. Anything to get out of his wandering head. He raised his eyebrows at the Headmasters very public denouncement of people not wearing robes. His first year he'd forgotten more than a few times, so it seemed odd. Though maybe someone did it more often than that. He looked around and the young woman next to him was not wearing a robe.
He saw her look at another table at the highfalutin Jasmine and turn back towards the table. Parker remembered this first year. Lyssa said they were on the same team and this girl was... intense. Just as Parker was about to offer some words of encouragement the young woman's demeanor changed and she cheerfully asked him a question.
"Umm... it was good," Parker said, realizing he may have just gone for the longest period of time not saying something. "Family stuff. My older brother being annoyed with me and my sister, my younger sister trying to out read the library or tell my parents every plan she has for Sonora domination. At least I was able to get out into the snowy mountains for a bit, which is always nice."
Nodding towards where Jasmine was sitting he asked, "How was yours?"
41Parker FitzgeraldWhy not you?1402Parker Fitzgerald05
Isaac was feeling pretty great after last term. His team was at the top right now with the most points, and they all worked really well together. Even though Heinrich didn't speak English that well, they were all able to communicate and get things done efficiently. He was excited about the next challenge and thought they had a good chance of winning this whole thing if they kept it up.
The other amazing part of his life was having a girlfriend. He had been on the fence after a somewhat disastrous meeting with Cleo's dad last summer, but Isaac was really glad they had moved past that. Being in a relationship with a gorgeous witch was amazing. Kissing was amazing. And he always had someone to hang out with or talk to about anything. Now he understood why his best friends back home were so into their girlfriends. There were times he did feel like he had to tread cautiously, but he never tried to make her feel insecure or uncomfortable. Isaac was still learning and new to this whole dating thing too, so taking it slow was OK. There were also a few hiccups here and there because of how her veela DNA affected him, but it had never been too bad.
During the holiday break, Isaac had gladly shared the news to everyone. Isaac Song officially had a girlfriend. His friends were happy for him, though they really wanted to meet her, and shared a plethora of advice, most of which Isaac didn't take too seriously. His mom also feigned disinterest, but he could tell she was hanging on his every word every time he talked about Cleo. Which was a lot. Though he wanted Cleo to meet his parents someday, he had realized it was OK not to be ready to take that next step yet. For now, he just wanted to keep their relationship between him and Cleo without the pressure from family.
Isaac had sent Cleo a Christmas present, which was a really plush throw blanket in her favorite color and gardening gloves, along with a heartfelt card. He had wanted to buy her jewelry, but Lauren advised him that it was maybe a little too soon for something like that.
Winter also meant snowboarding season, and he and his friends had planned a week-long trip in the mountains. At first it wasn't the greatest weather for snowboarding, but by the third day it cleared up with fresh powder, making the rest of the week amazing. Isaac came back home sore but happy and had to leave for Sonora the next day. His legs still hurt a little when he walked and he felt uncomfortable sitting for too long, but it had been worth it.
Once the headmaster made his short speech, Isaac reached for some food. "Did you have a good break?" he asked, glancing at the person sitting across from him with a friendly smile.
So far, every time Nico had left home and his parents, he had cried. It wasn't like a sob or silent weeping, just a few tears. Mikey teased him about it on the wagon ride back to Sonora, apparently trying to make him feel better, but Nico couldn't be consoled. He hated going to school so far from home and having to leave Denver and his parents for so long. He felt really homesick even though studying and practicing magic was actually fun.
It was hard for Nico to make friends too, but at least he had come up with a good idea for the challenge. His team was ahead of Mikey's and his team members seemed to tolerate each other OK. That was probably as much as they could ask for. Fred was pretty fun to be around too even though he talked a lot and Nico sometimes had to listen harder to understand his accent.
At the Crotalus table, Nico sat by someone he had talked to before. She had been nice at the Welcoming Feast before, so maybe they could talk again.
Nico couldn't exactly agree with her first sentence, but he managed a smile and nod. "Yeah, we celebrate Christmas," he said, surprised by the question. Did other families not celebrate Christmas? "We have a family tradition to go out and cut down our own tree from a Christmas tree farm outside of the city, and then we bring it home and decorate it together." The memory made his chest feel heavy. "We also decorate or make one ornament each every year to put on the tree." The urge to cry was coming back, but he pushed it away. He was eleven years old and not a baby anymore.
"Does your family celebrate Christmas?" he asked in return.
Caitlin's midterm had gone wonderfully. She, Winston and their parents had had dinner with Emerald, her sister Ruby and theirs, as well as Druscella. Although the presence of their family matriarch had put the fourth year slightly on edge, as usual, she had let the two sets of parents hammer things out and now Winston and Emerald were engaged!
This was something that Caitlin had wanted for a long time. Not as much as her brother of course, but still something she wanted very much. Now they'd have a connection to the Brockerts. Her brother had beat Thaddeus-he had beaten Thaddeus' spawn, of course, just by virtue of actually being a pureblood- in that respect for sure. A Brockert far outweighed a halfblood. Now, they'd have one of the most indisputably important pureblood families on their side regardless of Thaddeus' friendship with Evan Brockert. Ties by marriage were more important since there would be children and certainly, the Brockerts wanted all descendants to be at the top of the social heap.
More importantly, Winston seemed genuninely happy to be marrying Emerald. He seemed to genuinely care for her for more than her last name-after all, there were lots of Brockert girls around so he had plenty to pick from so since he picked Emerald he must honestly like her-and Caitlin was thrilled to see her brother so happy.
Plus, Emerald was smart and elegant. The fourth year was really enjoying getting to know her and was thrilled to be on the same Challenge team as her even if she did have to put up with some rather unseemly people. Emerald's sister Ruby was lovely as well, and Caitlin was already friends with Topaz and Emerald's cousin Allegra. Now her fellow Gardenia Girls would be like family.
She found a seat at the Crotalus table near someone proper. The Headmaster made some brief remarks including an admonishment of someone not wearing their robes, which was unusual as he usually said nothing other than welcome back and that he hoped they had a nice break. It must have been a big enough problem with someone if Emerald's grandfather was bothering with it.
Caitlin addressed the person across from her. "So, how was your holiday? Mine was absolutely wonderful."
11Caitlin PierceIn a good mood1415Caitlin Pierce05
Freddie loved food. It was by far his favorite part of Sonora, except the socializing and the learning and the catching stuff on fire and the sleeping and . . . well he just really liked Sonora. But the food was definitely one of the best parts, and it was made better by the fact that feasts like this one were big social events and then sleep was pretty soon afterwards. While there wasn't much by way of food he was used to - a fact which he knew sometimes bothered Johana Leonie, who was sitting a ways off and picking at some biscuits and gravy - it only meant that there were new things to try, and adventure was an exciting way to meet people.
Noticing a vaguely familiar friendly face nearby, and noticing a relatively out-of-character contented grin on it, Freddie set in to his meal and smiled at the older boy. This was his chance! The feast would happen with or without his engagement (as if he would ever not engage with a meal) but socialization was a choice and he needed to participate. This was the moment.
Fancying himself almost as exciting as a spy on a secret mission to make friends with everyone in the world, he nodded at his housemate.
"You look happy," he observed contentedly, taking a chomp out of an ear of corn. "Break were good? Or break were bad and back is good?"
22Freddie ZauberhexenJust a feast!1452Freddie Zauberhexen05
Jezebel was glad Nico was up for talking again. They hadn't really talked a lot during the school year so far but they did talk at the opening feast a few months previously and that was exciting. She thought that he'd probably make a pretty good friend, which meant him definitely worth talking to now again. Plus he'd been really helpful last time. Nice was one thing, but helpful was another and Jezebel definitely needed helpful people to help orient her to the magical world.
"That sounds like fun! And pretty similar to what we do. We don't make ornaments, but we hang up ornaments and we went to Mass. That was weird this year, but it was nice."
Jezebel wasn't usually one to talk too much about her family's religious practices as she still wasn't sure what role religion played in this new world she'd been invited into and didn't want to ostracize herself any further from it than she had to. Of course, that always raised the question of whether she was making an eternal mistake by not upholding her religion the way she should. She reached up instinctively to touch the rosary beads around her neck, hidden as they were beneath her robes.
"Are there holidays that are just for wizards and witches?" she asked, glad to have something to learn about while they ate. The more she could be prepared for the coming years, the better. "I only know the norm-- the muggle ones."
22Jezebel Reed-FischerThat sounds like a good plan. 1454Jezebel Reed-Fischer05
"My goal is to speak more good German!" Evelyn said, so excited by the fact that their goals aligned that she forgot to use a more grammatically correct sentence. "We can practice together if you want. Ich helfe du und du helfest mir?" She was pretty sure that last bit was wrong, but she thought it might be close.
Then Hilda was responding with smiles and laughter and kindness and everything just seemed so much better. Obviously there was no guarantee that she and Hilda would be good friends, but they were close in age - almost as close as Heinrich and Evelyn - and that might be nice. Plus it would be nice to have someone to spend time with in her own house, especially since Malikhi hadn't been talking to her as much since his dad died. Tatiana was nice, but she was very fancy and Evelyn couldn't stack up, plus Tatiana already had her own friends.
"Learning languages is very hard," Evelyn agreed with a conspiratorial grimace. "My brain gets the words all wrong. Du hast Schule im Englisch! I can't imagine." Her German sentences were punctuated with questioning looks to confirm that she was even halfway close, and it felt like they were playing a game together. They were taking turns struggling and helping and just . . . existing. It seemed like the most natural way for people to be: just as they were.
Hilda asked how Evelyn's break was, and Evelyn grinned. For a moment, she considered telling Hilda about Edgar, but decided the name and pronoun might be confusing, even if they got passed the concept of 'pygmy puff,' so she made a mental note to show Hilda later, and to find out the German word for pygmy puff as soon as she could.
Evelyn felt light and happy and it felt so good. "My break was good," she replied, really meaning it for the first time in a very long time.
As usual, he was being read like a book. Dorian’s smile flickered just a shade, shifting to a slight note of guilty embarrassment at effectively getting caught daydreaming. But there was no real harm in the question. At least, not this time. He was glad he didn’t have to try and bluff his way around the second option, which had probably been intended as a joke but was usually painfully accurate for him.
“Good break,” he answered, still smiling, “I made a new friend,” he added, because he thought that was a reasonable reason to be happy, and that phrasing it that way didn’t highlight the fact that he hadn’t really had any at home prior to this. New friends were always nice. Plus it was Teppenpaw, where feeling your feelings was usually accepted as a pretty good thing to do. He only hoped the smile couldn’t have been interpreted as a soppy, romantic kind of smile, but there was no reason it would have been because he didn’t feel that way about Jean-Loup. It was just sort of confusing because of the fact he’d almost kissed him but that had been a mistake, induced by heavy medication. They were just friends.
Freddie grinned at Dorian. "I never have any friends at the home," he said, clear shock and excitement on his face. There was no jealousy in his voice because he didn't feel jealous; he had Hana and that was good enough. "There are not much of kids where I live and they have no magic," he explained before taking another chomp of his corn. He put it back on his plate and wiped his face with a napkin, knowing his parents would want him to be reasonably polite.
"My break is good," he grinned. He was pretty sure this was the student that Johana Leonie had mentioned was nice, so he took a moment to really think about his break and decide how it went, as he suspected his housemate really wanted to know. "Hana and I helpen for my parents. They do heals. And we . . . uh . . . we schleichen... we make it so that no one sees and we give presents to people without told them."
Freddie shrugged, not caring that much whether his English was good. He knew it was better than his sister's, and he knew that people would either figure out what he meant or would ask him to clarify. Together, they'd get through it. Hana thought the opposite; she wanted her English to be good so that people didn't have to try with her, but Freddie would rather just get by good enough to have a good time with people. He supposed that was why she was a better big sister than he would be a big brother. Deciding maybe the voice in his head - whether it was his own or his sister's - had a fair point, he added another question just to make sure:
"It's Zara's family's cultural center," he explained, taking a moment to describe the place to her. "They have muggle items and information on display so that magical folk can have a better understanding of non-magical people and the two communities can be better united. So maybe some parts of it are like a museum because there are exhibits and things, but other parts are not much like a museum?"
Felipe listened to Jessica's information about her family with some interest, although he didn't follow most of it. He had, of course, studied the governmental systems of the United States before coming here for school, but that wasn't to say he'd necessarily retained all of it, particularly at the state level. He knew more about political ideology than political systems, as only the former had a real impact on his remote corner of the world.
"Your family is very important to a great many people," Felipe observed, his tone even and neutral. He thought that that was a good thing in some ways and a bad thing in some ways, and probably a hard thing in many ways. Whatever the case, it was difficult not to make an observation, however rude it would have been to say anything more of it than that.
"I think those things count," he comments on her explanation about the arts. "We only had private lessons, so we were taught about music and art, but mostly we learned about other people's. We read and viewed and listened more than we wrote or made or produced." Deciding that wasn't really a very satisfying - or entirely truthful answer - he continued despite feeling as if he were taking up too much space. "Leonor sings, and we both dance quite a lot. I play violin, piano, and cello very well. Leonor plays the harp. Neither of us write poetry; I think that is a beautiful skill to have."
22Felipe De Matteo'tis the price of hubris, I'm afraid. 1434Felipe De Matteo05
Zara. That was the Black girl in their year. Jessica filed the information about the organization that the other girl's family was apparently associated with. This was interesting, possibly something to investigate later.
"That's cool," she said. "I might have to ask her about that sometime."
She nodded, not noticing the careful neutrality of his tone, to the assessment of her family. "Mommy's family are mostly in politics," she explained. "My great-grandpa used to be the governor, so that got everything started. My grandfather is a state Senator and now Uncle Jason is in the House. Of course, Arvale supports different causes, too, but luckily they usually line up with whatever Grandpa and Uncle Jason are into," she added with a chuckle.
"Yours are as well," she said when he said poetry was a beautiful skill. She felt distinctly less than accomplished now, beside someone who could play three instruments. She was not naturally musical, and while she imagined she could have developed at least a level of technical proficiency, neither of her parents had apparently ever felt it was necessary to squeeze lessons into the schedule, so that was that. "We should collaborate sometime," she half-joked - she didn't think any of those instruments usually had lyrics to go with their music, but it wasn't like there was a law or anything.
16JessicaTake what you want and pay for it.1442Jessica05
Freddie seemed genuinely surprised at the idea of having friends, admitting to having none himself at home, though when he explained the reasons why, it was less concerning. Dorian had grown up surrounded by magical children his own age, but he had never had a friend outside his family before coming to Sonora. Freddie neither seemed sad nor like he must have had a lonely childhood.
He nodded along as the other boy spoke, very well used to oddly inflected verbs or borrowed words. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice them, every little linguistic quirk piqued his curiosity as to why it happened there or what exactly it meant, but mixing languages was just such a natural way to communicate for him that it didn’t strike him as comment-worthy. At least, not until the other boy slowed down and checked that he was making sense.
“Yes, absolutely,” he nodded, giving a clearer smile. “I will tell you if it does not, and you can do the same,” he stated. He remembered hedging his way around his botched grammar or the sudden gaping hole that could open up where a piece of vocabulary ought to have been. It wasn’t fun. Nor was believing that the other person might just be humouring you, and that you weren’t communicating your idea at all, or needing to request that they slowed down or explained themselves again for the millionth time. Freddie seemed less at home to these types of worry, or worry in general, than Dorian was, but it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.
“This sounds like a nice tradition,” he smiled, regarding the present giving. He wasn’t sure whether ‘schleichen’ was a verb (it sounded like one based on where it had been used) and if so whether it meant all of what Freddie had said in English or whether he had just cut himself off when he began searching for a translation. German could be Like That, it had a lot of words that needed a paragraph in other languages, but they were usually long words themselves. He decided not to ask, because he didn’t want to make it seem like Freddie had not communicated clearly, and he wasn’t confident about getting his interest in technical things across.
“I receive some healing,” he added, searching for more common areas to talk about from their holidays. “I did broke my wrist,” he added.
Midterm had been fun, because such occasions almost always were - there was family, good food and presents! What was not to like? He'd also got to fiiiinally see Zevalyn again after what felt like literally forever. It was still strange to go from seeing someone every single day to having to wait weeks at a time, and then only getting tiny, parent-issued chunks of time in which to socialise. It had been hard, trying to enjoy seeing her and then knowing that it was so limited and then worrying that he was ruining it by being mopey but then feeling like he wouldn't have to worry if the situation didn't just suck. She seemed not to have dumped him for being annoying, so he guessed he hadn't made a terrible job of it but now he was back, it still felt like he should have done better, and he wasn't sure whether he should apologise or whether dragging up how not fun he had been was only going to make everything worse. He was glad that in a few months, he would have a substantially larger degree of freedom.
Outside of seeing Zevalyn and his family, the world was a somewhat depressing place. He had arrived home to find boxes of gowns, wigs and heels in his room. He knew better than to think it was a visit from his Fairy God Mother, and sure enough it had turned out his family was storing stuff for James, whose current boyfriend didn't want him doing drag and tried to make him throw it all out. He had tried to turn it into a positive by offering to let Evelyn play dress up when she'd looked kind of down. He hadn't phrased it that way because she wasn't seven. Rather than prying in or trying to get her to talk to him about his feelings, he had merely told her that putting on a fabulous dress always made him feel better, and that there was a box of things in his room she could borrow from whilst she was staying, if she wanted to, and any time she wanted someone to mess with make up with, she had only to ask. He tried hard to make Evelyn's presence seem like a positive. It wasn't hard to feel happy about her being there, in that she was nice to be around. He just tried to forget why she was there, for both their sakes - he didn't think pity was a helpful emotion - whilst of course respecting that she was probably processing a lot of mixed feelings, and that he should be careful what he said. Then there was everything he'd read in the papers... Still, he glanced around, finding he wouldn't have to deal with that just yet. He felt slightly guilty at the sense of relief but it was nice to be able to put it off and enjoy his last feast.
Keen as he was to graduate, last feast was a bit of a landmark, and he managed to stir up a measure of sentimentality for the occasion. It wasn't hard to do. He was generally pretty good at feeling feels about things, and Sonora had, he thought, fingers running over his head boy badge, been good to him. He would miss the DnD gang next year, but there would be time to mark that passing later - unless any of them fancied joining Teppenpaw table for the evening. The rules were relaxed for returning feasts but he still wanted to be with his house. It was a good place to be.
The speech almost dragged, by Headmaster Brockert's standards, and Kir was quite impressed that anyone had stirred up such feelings as to make him remark on them. He almost wanted to find out who it was and congratulate them. First though, there was food. So much food. Kir took a helping of lasagne. Pasta didn't exactly feature much in Christmas cooking, and he was happy to have a change, even if he wasn't planning to venture far from stodgy carbs. It was winter and, thanks to weather charms, cold.
"Hi there," he smiled at the person next to him. "How's it going?" he asked. He didn't ask if they had had a good holiday because he knew too many people who hadn't. He didn't ask if they were glad to be back, because they might not be. He just left it vague so they could open up as much or as little as they wanted.
I asked ‘who’ not ‘why’. I’m attempting innocence.
by Anya
Not knowing the older boy at all, Anya listened to, but did not really register, his comments about his siblings interactions with him, each other, and their parents. She kinda thought maybe she might know one of those siblings, but she couldn’t say who that might be given that she wasn’t entirely sure who he was himself.
But her interest visibly sharpened when he mentioned snowy mountains. Her mountains were awesome but they were neither tall enough nor north enough to get much snow, even in the winter. Even beyond the concern of temperature which didn’t often dip below 35F, she lived in desert territory, so precipitation was unlikely to begin with, and white Christmases were really just a thing she saw in books or on television. Outside was colder than normal, too cold to really be pleasant, but it was still above freezing, and looked basically the same as it always did.
He asked about her break and glanced at Jasmine, which told her he probably knew who she was better than she knew who he was, but her break hadn’t been super interesting. “It was fine,” she said dismissively, feeling no compulsion to discuss the same events that happened in December every year. Besides, if he did know Jasmine, and ever asked her that question, the answer would probably be the same. The only thing that changed was the number of babies. This year, Aunt Molly’s kids were too big to count as babies anymore, but Uncle Luke had a new grandson.
She couldn’t entirely ignore the question though, because there was one spot of interest, so she did add, “Lucy’s pregnancy is progressing nicely. She’ll have her foal by Easter, Mom said. Maybe by summer she’ll be old enough I can teach the baby how to take a rider!” For some of the smaller breeds it was best to wait until they were yearlings or even three or four years old for some of the muggle ones that matured slowly, but Abraxons would be born bigger than Anya was now. Summer would still be too early for an adult rider, of course, but Anya was comparatively light and short.
That shared, she leaned toward him and declared, “Now tell me about your snowy mountains. Are they near your house? How snowy? Are the mountains huge? Do you have rocky cliffs or are there trees? Is the snow soft? I live in the desert of Southern California. Assume I don’t know what snow is like. I mean, it sometimes happens, but it’s rare, and it hasn’t happened in a few years, and I don’t remember being six very well.”
1AnyaI asked ‘who’ not ‘why’. I’m attempting innocence.1453Anya05
Whatever you do, Simon thought grimly as he approached, don't look sideways.
The news had most likely not spread too far yet, but realistically, after all, Simon had to admit that there was an excellent chance that most of his own table knew that Something had happened. His father had already released the quiet news that Aunt Cynthia was to be mourned as one lost to them, after all, and Crotali read social papers. To not do so was - what else, exactly, were they supposed to do to prepare for events? The others were going to know Something had happened, and that meant they were going to look at him and the others, and whisper behind their hands, and the worst thing he could possibly do was acknowledge it in any way. At least tonight.
Go. Don't stop walking. Move.
He was scowling with concentration as he entered the room, and if he had known it, would have been pleased to know he looked rather more imposing than usual. However, the thought of what he looked like never crossed his mind, for once. He was too busy staring at a fixed point straight ahead and not looking at anyone to notice.
He barely heard a word Brockert said, so anxious was he about what was going to happen once he was almost certainly forced to speak to someone. The sight of food was a relief, at least - it gave him something to hide behind. He was not yet decided on whether or not he could actually persuade himself to put food in his mouth and swallow it and keep it down, though, when Winston started talking.
For a moment, the words made no sense, and Simon gave his head a slight shake. "I - wow," he said, and wanted to kick himself very firmly for sounding such an idiot. "Sorry, I was - not expecting that. Congratulations, really." He forced a smile. "And thank you for not getting to it sooner - you'd have been Head Boy for sure if you'd picked her up over the summer," he added, only half-joking.
Nico had often wondered what it would be like to be religious. His parents were both Italian, meaning Catholicism was a big part of their background, but they had never gone to Mass or even talked about God. It just never really came up. He wanted to go sometime and see what it was all about. The churches themselves were really beautiful, at least the ones he had glanced into while walking by.
Here, Jezebel was giving him the perfect opportunity to ask without sounding too ignorant, since they were asking about each others' traditions.
"None that I know of," Nico replied after taking a moment to think about it. "I guess it's kind of hard for me to know the difference though 'cause my family celebrates all the holidays. Like, for Halloween we usually go trick-or-treating, but I guess I can't do that anymore since I'm at school now." It sucked not being able to dress up and get free candy from neighbors, but it was part of growing up. Eleven was too old for trick-or-treating anyway. "Christmas and Halloween are two of the big ones. Oh, I guess Easter isn't such a big holiday in the magical world. My family still celebrates it though with Easter egg decorations and candy. I think I told you one time that my mom's a muggle-born, and she's really into celebrating holidays." She was the one who usually prepared the holiday decorations.
"What do you guys do at Mass?" he asked in return. "I've always wondered what people do in those giant and really pretty churches."