Mortimer Brockert

December 06, 2019 1:29 PM
Another year was beginning and it was time for another Opening Feast. Once everyone seemed to be in attendance, Mortimer placed a Sonorus charm on himself and began to speak. "Welcome to Sonora for the new first years and welcome back for all older students. First years, you should have receieved a blank badge at the end of Orientation." At least they hadn't gotten it when they first got there, some were liable to lose it. "You will dunk the badge in the Sorting Potion and it will turn the color representing your house which are blue for Aladren, yellow for Teppenpaw, red for Crotalus, and brown for Pecari. Afterwards, you may join your house table."

After the first years had been settled, Mortimer continued."Would Connor Priory and Ivy Brockert please come up and get your Head Student badges." He continued. "In addition I'd like to call up Heinrich Hexenmeister, Nathaniel Mordue, Caitlin Pierce and Michael DiCaprio to receive their prefect badges. Congratulations." Mortimer really really hoped that Mr. Tate's mother and Uncle Clifford did not give him a hard time about the Pecari not getting prefect. And that Mr. Mordue was over his mental breakdown.

Once the new prefects and Head Students had returned to their tables, Mortimer continued, "Our Midsummer even this year will be a ball. Prefects and Head Students will be required to lead it." This might take away from the joy and accomplishment some felt at receiving their badges, but he thought that he'd give them fair warning.

"Now we will sing the school song." Or they would, rather. Lyric sheets were passed around and the song began.


Every day we strive
Learning to survive
Life’s hardships and to solve its mystery.
Learning to defend
Our honour and our friends,
Flying high to meet our destiny
We will stand and face those who want to harm us.
We won’t let the world transfigure, jinx or charm us
I won’t fight alone, as long as you are with me.
Sonora be my home, my tutor and my spirit
Vasita quoque floeat; Even the desert blooms.


That done, he dug into his steak and bourbon.
Subthreads:

Aladren

Teppenpaw

Crotalus

Pecari
11 Mortimer Brockert Opening Feast 6 1 5

Mab

December 11, 2019 8:22 AM
Mab was overwhelmed. The wagon ride from Massachusetts had be strange but in an obviously magical way and she’d had hours to get used to it as it crossed basically the entire country. She’d never left Boston before and staring down at the country side below her had been sufficient distraction. She guessed it wasn’t too much different from a plane ride, though she’d never taken a plane before so that was entirely speculation.

Then the orientation hadn’t been awful. There was food. A guy talked at them. She met Morgan and Morgan seemed nice enough. But there were only the twelve of them in a garden clearing, and she’d been fine.

The tour was okay too. The school was huge, and so much fancier than her elementary school, and the paintings were kind of creepy because they moved, and occasionally even talked, but there were lots of places to hide, and it was definitely the nicest place she’d ever lived in her life, even nicer than Bel’s apartment, and she’d thought that had been posh the first time she walked into there, and she kind of wondered if there had been some kind of mistake, that this wasn’t the school they’d meant to send her to, because this was clearly a rich kid school and Mab had a juvenile record.

But the tour was still just the twelve of them walking through the halls. Sometimes they passed by older students, individually or in small groups, and that didn’t bother her either, but when the entered the Cascade Hall, there seemed to be the entire school population gathered all in one place and Mab wanted nothing more than to run away to one of the hidey holes she’d picked out along the way.

It was too big here, too exposed, and everyone seemed to be looking at her. Adrenaline slammed through her veins and she skittered more to the back of the group, putting the other first years between her and all the eyes.

Her cover got progressively smaller and smaller as the other kids dipped their badge into the sorting potion and then it was her turn and everyone was looking. Heart pounding in her throat and sweat collecting on her brow she quick dunked her blank badge into the brew and pulled it out brown.

Pecari. The ones who land on their feet. Appropriate.

She ducked off to that table and sat down, glad that people seemed to have lost interest in her now. The Headmaster Guy, who looked like some Fey version of Vincent Price gave different badges to some older kids and told them all that there were be an Honest-to-God ball at the end of the year. Pfft. And Bel said this wasn’t the Land of Fey. It totally was.

Then everyone sang while Mab just examined the lyric sheet that appeared in front of her, trying to figure out if it was conjured, illusory, or just transported from elsewhere. Her findings were inconclusive and then the evidence vanished as quickly as it had appeared. And on the tables, there was food. So much food.

Man sat back and stared at it wide eyed and suspicious. It was too good, too much, too perfect.

It had to be a trick. For the first time since the police station where she’d been brought after she was arrested, she worried that it was dangerous to eat the food. Or course, she had already eaten at the Orientation, so she was already trapped here, and she had already been planning to stay here at least until December if not through May, so not eating at Sonora wasn’t even an option, but her mental alarms were ringing and she hadn’t survived three months on the streets by ignoring them.

She couldn’t eat this. It was a trick.
1 Mab This is too much, too good 1473 0 5

Theo Spurn

December 11, 2019 8:50 PM
Mum had written Theo a note saying the person who taught Potions and wasn't Sophie was going to be nice even though she wasn't Sophie. That was good. Theo felt like most people were either nice or were capable of being nice once mum had yelled them into it but that second one was stressful and sometimes involved unpleasant situations almost happening first. Only ever 'almost' because Theo was definitely allowed to say 'no' to things he didn't like, just sometimes he had to say it louder and by making his feet be rocks and tucking his arms in and getting trouble for being stubborn. Then mum came and told people not to be jerks and that he was allowed to keep saying 'no' if he needed to.

As they made their way into the hall, he looked up at the staff table, trying to decide which one might be the potions professor. He had literally nothing to base this off though, except that she was not mean. There was a lady in a very velvety dress and velvet was like... the opposite of mean, and even if that wasn't the potions teacher, he liked her. He gave her a cheerful wave in case it was, wishing that he could go up and talk to her and stroke her dress but he knew that wasn't allowed right now. He had to stand here and do stuff. He kept his eyes on her though and rubbed the velvet in his sleeves against the bridge of his nose because that was a very nice place to rub and it made up for not being able to touch her dress because he'd only be able to do that with his hands and because the velvet in his sleeves had been sewn with love. If this behvaiour hadn't clued her in yet, the bright pink streak in his hair probably would. As would what happened next.

Theo turned his attention to the potion as more people started moving that way. He watched them carefully. There was no need to touch the potion itself and it was not bubbling. He was not thrilled about the process but it was not impossibly gross. He rolled his sleeves up carefully, so they were well out of the way. He would really rather not... It was just that he thought about it getting on his hands if he wasn't careful enough and because he'd never come across this particular potion before, he had no idea what it felt like. It could be really slimy. It could be sticky. What if it was very sticky and it wouldn't come off his hands properly?

He stepped up, holding his badge tentatively by one end and dipping the minutest tip of it into the brew. He saw the colour racing up it and let go with a squeak because he wasn't sure whether it was just a colour or seepy potion badness. He watched it sink into the potion.

"It was definitely brown," he declared truthfully, setting off towards Pecari table shouting over any attempt to make him stay still and have his badge returned to him, "I don't want it - it's probably sticky." This remark was mainly intended for Professor Skies but was not physically directed at her as he was already walking away and was loud enough for everyone to hear.

He settled down at Pecari without a trace of self-consciousness, sitting with his legs underneath him for pleasant squashiness, unrolled his sleeves and rubbed his nose with the velevty bits a few more times while other things happened.

Then it was food time. Food was fine. It was something he did as a process because it was necessary. It was less bothersome when food was goopy than textures you touched with your hands because your mouth was already soggy. He wasn't very adventurous with food and the sheer variety in front of them didn't tempt him much. It did, however, mean he could do one of his favourite things. He did not get to do this much because it lacked nutrtitional value and was hard to achieve without quite a wide range of things. First, he rolled up one sleeve again, keeping then other pressed to his nose. Then he took a small amount of mashed potato, spreading it very evenly and flatly over his plate with the back of the serving spoon.

"What foods do you see that you can paint with?" he asked the person next to him. His eyes briefly included them in this comment whilst continuing to scan the table, "I think that pumpkin soup would make a nice sunshine."
13 Theo Spurn Some good, some yucky 1476 0 5

Mab

December 12, 2019 12:37 PM
Mab had not been the last person sorted - first people and last people were noted more than the people in the middle - so as her cover of other first years dwindled, she had darted ahead to claim a position of Not Last. She had sat at the Pecari table near some empty seats, hoping that maybe she’d be the last one to have a badge turn brown (Morgan had already gone to Aladren and she didn’t know anyone else) and she’d be more or less on her own.

This was not the case.

She watched in some mild fascination as a boy dropped his badge into the cauldron (she thanked her otherwise unlucky stars that she had been spared that embarrassment at least) and then proceeded to loudly declare he didn’t want it back and it was probably sticky. Then the fascination turned to horror as she realized he was heading right toward the empty seats near her.

No, oh no, he was attention beacon - the public mistake, the loud talking back, the pink streak in his hair, the velvet clothes. Nothing about him was subtle and he was pulling eyes in her direction. Her first instinct was to flee, but that would draw attention, too. You couldn’t just get up again after you sat down. That was true in her elementary school and it was probably even more true among the fey. You do not want to offend the fey. Just look what happened to Aurora, and she didn’t even do anything but get born.

So she stayed where she was, holding still to avoid drawing notice, moving was always more dangerous than not moving, and attention eased away toward the badges being handed out at the front of the room. She hoped that would never be her.

Slowly, she began to breathe again. She let her shoulders relax slightly. She began to think maybe this was a good spot to be. Any eyes that did happen in this direction would go to Velvet Sleeves, not her in her plain school uniform. If she could just keep quietly to herself, this was probably the most invisible spot at the whole Pecari table.

She couldn’t keep quietly to herself. She cursed herself (not literally, one had to be clear about that in the Land of Fey; curses were A Thing here) for sitting back in her seat as she distanced herself from the dangerous looking food. It must have drawn Velvet’s attention. Moving was always more dangerous than not moving. She knew that.

His words were nonsensical. Obviously, he was one born to the Fey. Fey concerns were different than mortal concerns. She was just a changeling. Her concerns were still steeped in the mortal world.

She quickly passed him the pumpkin soup (who made soup out of pumpkins anyway?), hoping this would be sufficient to distract him with his food painting and he could go back to forgetting she was there.

Once he had the soup, she went still and silent. It was as close to invisible as she was allowed to be. She wasn’t supposed to wish upon the invisible fairies anymore. She was supposed to learn to use her wand like Flora, Fauna, and Merriweather. But she hadn’t had any classes yet, so still and silent would have to do.
1 Mab Still and Silent 1473 0 5

Theo Spurn

December 13, 2019 6:02 AM
“Thank you,” Theo said, as he took the soup from the girl. She seemed to still be thinking about the question he’d asked because she was being quiet. That was fair. There were a lot of things on the table to consider.

He picked his knife up off the table as he could be sure its handle was clean, and used it to transfer golden orange soup drop by drop onto the potato until he had a cheerful sun complete with little beams on the top right of the plate. He hummed snatches of ’Here comes the sun,’ whilst he worked.

He surveyed the rest of the table, considering whether to make a collage. That would probably give him more options. He did not mind textures touching each other so long as they were all good textures and not too far apart from each other. Broccoli for trees was always kind of fun. He would almost definitely be able to find gravy which could paint a horse or some other animal.

“What else did you find?” he asked the girl, as she had now had quite some time to survey the table and look for more painting materials.
13 Theo Spurn How do you do that?? 1476 0 5

Mab

December 19, 2019 8:09 AM
Mab was relieved when he took the weirdly orange soup and set to . . . painting his potatoes with it. Definitely a Fey child here. He seemed harmless though, and not mean spirited, so probably Summer Court. Not that those on the Winter Court couldn’t mean well, because they could, or that those from Summer weren’t dangerous, because they were, but overall, Summer came across as warmer and friendlier, and that was the impression she was getting from the boy who painted with soup.

He started humming and she was surprised to recognize the song. Bel said she worked briefly as a muggle cop, and she’d had a few muggle friends (muggle was how the Fey referred to mortals, Mab had noticed) so she had some muggle appliances in her apartment, like a toaster and a radio, but she said a lot of Fey didn’t mix with mortals as much as the Boston Pierces did (the Boston Pierces were a subset of neutral Fey, Mab had gathered - Bel and Amelia could pass as Winter but the Derries and their families were clearly Summer leaning, and the whole lot of them flirted with the edge of the Veil that hid the Land of Fey from mortals, which she had also gathered was only just barely this side of legal and definitely frowned upon) and a good number of people at her new school wouldn’t know anything about the songs, television shows, or even some of the books Mab knew.

Still, Summer Court or not, warm and friendly or not, Beatles familiar or not, Velvet was just too notable for Mab to be entirely comfortable around him and she flinched a little when his attention returned to her and asked a question.

For a moment she struggled to hide her confusion, but then she remembered what he’d asked before he’d asked for the soup. Her eyes scanned the table quickly, and she picked up the platter of cranberry sauce and offered it to him, with her head tilted in question. Will this work?* she let her expression ask, hoping that if she didn’t actually vocalize at him, maybe people would think she was just passing food and not engaging Velvet in conversation and therefore making herself equally as notable as he was just for being his dinner companion.

Anyway, the cranberry stuff had a nice vibrant color and could probably be smushed about enough to serve as a decent paint, though it would definitely be chunkier than the soup.
1 Mab I don’t move and I don’t talk 1473 0 5

Theo Spurn

December 20, 2019 8:38 PM
The girl seemed surprised, so maybe she had been thinking about something else. That was okay. That happened a lot to Theo. Thoughts were not rigid little trains running down predetermined tracks, they were epic explorers, going where their will took them. Then she held up some cranberry sauce.

"Ooh," said Theo, surveying it with interested curiosity. He nudged a couple of dishes out of the way to make a little space, nodding that she could put it down. He wasn't sure he wanted to touch the edges in case the sauce had split and made them sticky. He did not mind slightly sticky in his mouth but he did not want it on his hands. He took a spoon, carefully poking through the sauce to assess it. It had bits. Bumps were no good because flowers were not bumpy, but there was enough sauce around the bits that he could use it, if he was careful. "This is good," he declared happily. "I can do flowers. There aren't often many bright enough liquid foods to make flowers. Thank you," he smiled. He dipped his fork, starting by outlining the places with little red pin pricks.

"Would you like to share the cranberry flowers when I'm all done?" he asked, seeing as she was helping make them.
13 Theo Spurn Fascinating! 1476 0 5