Returning Feast on Cascade Hall

System

February 14, 2020 3:25 PM

Teppenpaw by System

0 System Teppenpaw 0 System 0 5

Mortimer Brockert

February 14, 2020 3:25 PM

Returning Feast by Mortimer Brockert

Midterm had passed much as it always had. Honestly, Mortimer had always wondered why he had to go to social events. Socializing was not for everyone. Some people were perfectly happy to stay home with a book. He was one of those people. And midterm technically was his vacation too so it should be relaxing.

It turned out his grandson Olaf was apparently of similar temperment. When Eustace had tried to drag him and Christopher-Jasper put his foot down awhile ago and Uriah and Miles were still too little-out to play Quidditch, the young boy had scowled at him and said "Go away, I'm reading!" At this, Mortimer had done something rare. He'd laughed Which in turn led to stares because most present were convinced he was incapable of doing so. It had also led to an argument between Ben and Eustace. Stuff about Ben raising children who were disrespectful and wimpy and a few fat shaming comments about his younger son and Ben coming back about them being his children and he'd raise them as he saw fit and it wasn't any of Eustace's business and there was nothing wrong with a boy who preferred books to sports-Ben having been one such boy himself-and that Uriah wasn't even two years old yet so commenting on his weight was beyond absurd. However, Mortimer hadn't been so proud of one of his grandchildren since Emerald was awarded prefect. Meanwhile, Christopher escaped while his uncle was distracted and didn't surface again until it was time to leave. The Headmaster had to admit, he was proud of Chris too for being smart enough to stay hidden.

Still, all the fuss had set off the two little boys, though Uriah was quickly quieted down with cookies and Miles had been cranky to begin with since he was getting over an ear infection. Madeleine had ended up taking him home to bed and the gathering broke up soon after. Mortimer hadn't been sure whether to be happy about the fact that Eustace was often able to put a damper on things and cause them to end so Mortimer could have peace and quiet or to be completely disgusted by him. Or both. Yes, both. He did like to spend some time with his grandchildren but at the end of the day he wanted them to, well, go away so he could read.

And now it was time to start the second half of the year. There was never as much to say at the Returning Feast as at the Opening Feast. At the latter, Mortimer had to announce prefects and Head Student and there was the sorting and the school song and whatnot. The Returning Feast had none of that beyond an occasional announcement. Not having any this year, Mortimer stood up and said. "Welcome back. I hope you had a nice midterm." Nine words was all he needed. He sat back down and began his meal.

11 Mortimer Brockert Returning Feast 6 1 5

System

February 14, 2020 3:25 PM

Aladren by System

0 System Aladren 0 System 0 5

System

February 14, 2020 3:25 PM

Crotalus by System

0 System Crotalus 0 System 0 5

System

February 14, 2020 3:25 PM

Pecari by System

0 System Pecari 0 System 0 5

System

February 14, 2020 3:25 PM

Staff by System

0 System Staff 0 System 0 5

Martin Crosby V

February 15, 2020 4:21 PM

A positive approach for once by Martin Crosby V

For the first and probably last time in his rather young life, Martin Crosby V was actually quite glad to return to Sonora. While he did like at least his very immediate family and missed them while he was away (particularly his little sister), and while being at school often flooded him only with frustrations, his midterm had just been a little too much. Martin didn’t mind most of the inanities of pureblood society life, really, but the big affair of his time had been his father’s cousin’s wedding. Sally Manger had married Gideon Atwood in a huge event, wearing an incredibly tacky and auspicious gown meant for someone much more important and also much younger. Sally was in her thirties. She should have been married ten years ago. Why they were celebrating this inevitability, he had no idea.

Martin found himself completely exhausted after the whole ordeal, so returning to Sonora seemed much less unpleasant than the alternative. At least here, people left him alone. Great Grandmother Crosby did not talk at him in her endless way, gently probing into his personal matters. No, Great Grandmother, he told her, there were no girls at school that he liked. He didn’t like anyone at school, let alone any girls.

Although it did remind him about the upcoming ball at the end of the year. He probably needed to figure out a date, as one of Sonora’s minority male populous. It would be unfair to deprive a semi-deserving female of his presence. A lot of the girls here from good families were affiliated with his own (obviously), so he had to select carefully from the few options he did get. There were not many, but he had to be picky nonetheless.

However, even this thought did not bring him down today. He was just glad to be back, and in fact somewhat eager for classes to resume. Education was the closest he could currently have to a profession since he was only a student, and he liked gaining knowledge. This was partially because he liked gaining most anything, and partially because knowledge was power. School was his current means of advancing himself, and he would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.

Martin was not a particularly people-y person, but he realized that his usual habit of sitting quietly and minding his own manners did him no favors, so he decided to utilize his current pleasant outlook and engage a neighbor. “Greetings. How was your break?” he asked, even though he definitely didn’t care about the answer.

12 Martin Crosby V A positive approach for once 1439 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

February 16, 2020 9:01 PM

I always wanted to be a princess. by Leonor De Matteo

Leonor walked with her head a little higher and her eyes a little darker. She took a seat at the Pecari table with her back a little straighter and her stomach a little tenser.

This is what I always wanted. I finally got what I always wanted. The words had become a mantra for Leonor since she had had time to think about everything. She kept her eyes firmly away from the Crotalus table; she and Felipe had been close once, and then it had all gone away. Now, it was even worse. She and Felipe had hardly spoken since the picnic and he'd spent most of the time in the gardens. She'd spent most of her time with their father, learning everything she could and being given a whole lot of stuff to read and learn about while she was away at school. It was everything she had ever wanted, and it was way too much.

Somewhere in the back of her mind was sympathy for her brother. He had had all of this and didn't want it; she couldn't imagine how much harder that would be. But she had wanted it and she couldn't just turn around and turn it all down now. Even if that meant they were now talking about husbands and children and electives and diplomacy and soil quality. None of those things had meant anything to Leonor before and she felt a bit as if she were standing in a long hallway, watching all the doors close on the sides. She finally had her way clear, but she wasn't so sure she should've wanted it in the first place.

But there was nothing to be done about that. There was also no one to tell. Leonor couldn't tell Mara because then Jessica would know, and if Jessica found out, then Felipe would be even more standoffish with his sister. Leonor didn't really have any other real friends at Sonora, so it was probably best she just kept it all to herself. She had other things to think about anyway, like the importance of Tolstoy's choice to downplay patriotism in War and Peace and what lessons there were to learn from that. She knew life was getting rough when the Headmaster was more interesting than a book she was reading, but she was glad for the interruption and turned to pay attention as he spoke.

He was hardly verbose in the best (worst?) of times, but tonight he was downright reticent. Leonor grimaced before stifling the expression; if she had learned anything from Felipe's facade of 'ready,' it was that emotions simply had no place where others could see them. She turned to the nearest student, grateful that it was the returning feast and not the opening feast, so she was generally familiar with all of her Housemates.

"Hello," she said, sticking firmly to English now. "Did you have a good break?"

22 Leonor De Matteo I always wanted to be a princess. 1471 0 5

Theo Spurn

February 16, 2020 9:35 PM

I could be on board with that by Theo Spurn

Theo was back! Everyone else was back! And forward. And nice. There was something very, very buzzy about coming back in and everyone was all bouncy and there was going to be the feast, which was a little bit like a party only kind of boring and with fewer treasure hunts but not everything could have a treasure hunt so he would forgive it. He was a little worried about some of the other days that were coming up. Tomorrow, when it wasn’t new and shiny and the feast any more, and it was just the First Real Day Away, and then there were some in the middle that had caught him last term where it had been ages and ages since he’d seen mum and dad, but it was still ages and ages until he saw them again- all of those were not nice days. But they were not today. Today was today and it was a cheery one.

He took a seat at the Pecari table, and the feast got started quickly, which was good, less because of the food but more because there would now be talking with people.

“Break is a funny word,” he commented, when Leonor asked him how his had been. He knew people said that, but it had always struck him odd. “Nothing gets broken. Or if it’s just… stopping for a bit, does that mean this is… everything, and then we get a ‘break’ and the other part isn’t real or important? I liked being at home. My mum and dad and the Christmas tree and all the Christmas pillows were there. I got to see all my cousins, and two of them will come next year, so I was The Wise Old Man who could answer all that they wished to know and there were marshmallows. And I did not have to touch anything that I did not like and I got lots of soft gifts and we did a treasure hunt. How was your pause? How are you paws?” he laughed, holding up his own hands with the fingers folded over so they looked more like animal toes.

13 Theo Spurn I could be on board with that 1476 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

February 16, 2020 10:10 PM

Do you want to be a duke? by Leonor De Matteo

Leonor smiled a little sadly at just how wrong Theo was. It was nice to see him - really, it was always nice to see him - but there was a strange distance that seemed almost insurmountable. At the same time, he was maybe one of the only people that she could talk to with some sense of ease. Whatever else happened, she wanted to still be herself, didn't she? And that would probably be okay, right? She tossed her hair over her shoulder. Of course it would be okay.

"What if everything is broken?" she pointed out, grabbing food at random and filling her plate. She looked down and realized she'd mixed up desserts and dinner items. "Maybe it's like this," she added to his latter comment. "Like, you're eating one thing and then you take a break to eat another thing, and then you take a break of that to eat the next thing. So either we're always on break, or we never are."

She smiled a little again, cocking her head at Theo. "Good paws," she said, letting the homonym keep a deeper answer at bay for now. "I don't think I've ever had a marshmallow before. They're good?"

22 Leonor De Matteo Do you want to be a duke? 1471 0 5

Theo Spurn

February 17, 2020 3:12 AM

What are the differences between dukes and princesses? by Theo Spurn

She smiled. That meant happy. Theo smiled back and turned to look for good food things. He didn’t feel like painting this time around. There were some carrots cut into batons which would be good to build with and he carefully began arranging them into squares with pairs of opposing sides that were either the ‘unders’ or the ‘ons’ and building from there.

His head swivelled up sharply, as Leonor asked what if everything was broken. That sounded bad. But he could see that everything was not. She was not broken on the outside or the inside. He was sure that if someone’s everything got broken, it would show. Then she started talking about dinner, and breaking from one food for another one.

“Mm,” he vocalised, quietly and noncommittally. Her way made sense, but had been more or less what he had already said; if school said home was ‘a break’ it focussed entirely on itself as The Thing. The state of existence. But, as they had both now pointed out, once you stopped doing one thing, you started doing something else. He didn’t expand upon that seeing as she seemed to agree, even if she had a funny way of doing it. He was also quickly spurred on because there was a more important issue at hand.

“You’ve never had a marshmallow?!” he asked, at a volume that was entirely inappropriate for speaking to the person next to him, though perhaps the general din of the hall would do some to drown that out. He fidgeted slightly in his seat, wondering whether going to get Leonor a marshmallow from his trunk was an entirely reasonable reason to leave the feast. It seemed it to him, but the adults were stupid. “We should find you one. They are…” he paused trying to work out how to explain. “They are quite nice to touch around the outside, so long as you do it gently. The middles are sticky but the sticky won’t get to you until it breaks, and if you do it right, that’s in your mouth, and the rules are different in there. Other people toast them and make smores but that lets the sticky out so it’s not ideal. I like eating the parts that go into the smores one at a time, though sometimes I will eat them with a knife and fork so that I can join in but don’t have to touch it with my hands,” he offered, his brain jumping through what he felt were the most interesting or vivid points without evaluating what might help Leonor understand it the best, or be her frame of reference.

13 Theo Spurn What are the differences between dukes and princesses? 1476 0 5

Sadie-Lake Chalmers

February 18, 2020 5:10 AM

Back to Reality by Sadie-Lake Chalmers

Christmas had been the expected #happysmiles #familytime, all draped in colour-co-ordinated tinsel. Actually, tinsel had been thin on the ground (and the banisters) this year. Apparently, something called #NordicMinamilsm was in, which meant everything had to look super stark and white, and the co-ordinated family outfits had involved a lot of cableknits in soft, neutral colours.

It had been jarring, returning to being Sadie-Lake. Both out loud and in hashtag terms. She had gotten so used to being addressed as just ‘Sadie’ at school that she’d almost winced the first time she heard her mom use her full name. It was also strange being back, watching the constant photoshoot that was their life unfolding without her. Her mom hadn’t fallen back into snapping pictures of her – clearly it was easier to maintain the statement that she was choosing to be an #OffCameraKid without her occasionally cropping up. Sadie had been unable to resist checking in on @CharmingChalmers over the holidays, and had noticed she cropped up several times in still lifes. The family cookie decorating contest (degree of messiness strictly controlled by her mother), the decorations they’d each chosen at the store (from the range that matched their colour palette, of course) – even though she couldn’t be snapped any more, she existed via props. She had been surprised at first, figuring it was weird if she only showed up during the holidays, but hey, it was a #SpecialOccasion. She had to admit it felt kind of nice to be included, seeing as she was sort of left out of a lot by not being in the actual pictures.

She had not caved enough to feel like she missed it. Not most of the time anyway. She definitely didn’t miss her face being all over the Internet, or having to take a gazillion photos or any of the rest of it, but she had to admit that she missed having her mom’s attention. She always had missed that, to an extent, feeling like her mom was paying more attention to the pictures she was taking of her than of her herself. Now she wasn’t even in the frame. Sadie had never liked having the attention of a bunch of creepy people she’d never met, but at least she and her mom had done stuff together. If her mom wanted her to have some stupid complex braid in her hair for a shoot, at least she’d had to sit down and do it.
There had been one particularly depressing incident over the break. She had found her mom lining up two cups of hot chocolate on the counter, in a pair of chunky white pottery mugs they’d been sent to feature. Sadie actually kind of liked the mugs. The stark white of the Nordic theme had broken up by the cheerful colourful stars all over them, one in shades of pink and one in shades of purple. On the kitchen counter had been a bag of heart shaped marshmallows, a box of Lucky Charms that had been scattered and sorted, and some regular small marshmallows. Sadie was pretty sure that at least one of those items had not been in the cupboard before, which meant mom had gone out to buy specific marshmallows for a photo shoot.

”I tried the star ones and they look cute,” her mom stated, “But they’re all yellow, which doesn’t go, and I googled ‘Star Shaped Marshmallows’ to check they’re real, and they are, but they’re usually pastel colours. So people are going to start saying I went through the cereal box just to fish them out and photograph my hot chocolate.”

Sadie grabbed a loose handful of cereal and refrained from pointing out that that would have been true. It probably wasn’t the point here. Those were the kind of people who called her mom mad and attention seeking. They were the bad guys.

“Hearts would be cute for mommy-daughter time, but they just detract from the stars on the mug – and it’s the mug we’re meant to be featuring. I’ve gone with plain mallows. Which one do you like best?” she asked, scrolling through five or six nearly identical pictures on the phone.

“It’s a mommy-daughter time post?” Sadie asked. “There weren’t mugs for the guys?” she guessed, meaning her dad and her brother.

“Hm? Oh. There were. They’ll have to do some father-son bonding over them or something. I thought these were cuter as a pair,” she smiled, and Sadie knew it was kind of pathetic. Knew it was all down to how the colours worked in a composition, or whether special #OneOnOne time was winning against #FamilyFun in the trending wars, but she felt just a little bit like her mom had chosen her.

“I think this one?” her mom asked, “Or this one?” she swiped between pictures.

“The second one,” Sadie picked at random. “Er, are these safe to drink?” she asked, meaning both ‘are you finished’ and ‘is there anything in here to give them extra bubbles on camera that’s going to make them taste revolting?’

“Yes, go ahead. You might want to warm it up though. I made it cold cos steam fogs the camera.”

“Do you want yours done?” Sadie asked. Her mom tapped away at her phone for a moment or two before looking up.

“Sorry, sweets, what did you say?”

“Do you want your hot chocolate?”

“Oh, sure. Why not? Calories don’t count at Christmas right?”

And Sadie felt a little flutter of hope that this might actually turn from being just #MommyDaughterTime to like… actually being it. For real. She brought back both drinks. She recognised the type, hold, pause pattern her mom was in. Drafting and deleting.

“Writer’s block?” asked Sadie.

“Yes. Just trying to work out what we might be having a heart to heart about…”

Sadie sipped her hot chocolate, waiting expectantly, but her mom didn’t look up or engage in the very obvious research method that was currently sitting across the marble top kitchen island (#SimpleChic #ModernKitchen).

Sadie took a seat at the Crotalus table. It was weird to think of this as ‘back to real life.’ This, where she literally flew on a broomstick and had classes about unicorns, was more realistic than anything that had happened over Christmas. The food appeared, and she was grateful once again to be able to load up her plate without thinking about how it would look on camera. She only hoped the person sitting next to her was more interested in talking to her than her mom had been.

“Hi,” she smiled. Smiling was easy. It was a skill she could turn on at will, in a dozen different ways. Her fingers fidgeted though, anxiously tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. So far, people here had been nice enough, but she wouldn’t say she really had proper friends. “How was your break?”

13 Sadie-Lake Chalmers Back to Reality 1480 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

February 18, 2020 9:36 PM

There's no way any of this is real. by Felipe De Matteo

Felipe thought school would be better than home. He felt bad for thinking like that, especially since home should be a much more pleasant place now after-- well, after everything. But it wasn't. It wasn't any better at all. There were things that were better, definitely, but on the whole, they were about equivalent. At least when Felipe was meant to be the heir to Los Jardines de Plata, he was the only one who knew exactly how disappointing he was. Leonor probably knew a little bit of it, but his parents seemed generally satisfied with him. Now, he realized exactly how much "generally satisfied" was not enough. Not only did he see the way his parents closed off just a little bit when they met his eyes, but the way they beamed at Leonor made Felipe sure that "generally satisfied" was hardly anything worth striving for anymore.

It was also a far cry short of what he'd achieved when the topic of Jeremy Mordue came up, or when his illness in class was dismissed as stress. A De Matteo was meant to be better than that. To be stronger. They didn't have to say it; it was the way they looked away when they never looked away otherwise. He hadn't exactly been in trouble for his fight with Jeremy, but he suspected he would've been if it had mattered anymore. There wasn't very much that mattered anymore.

Except . . . there was. All of a sudden, everything in the world was open to Felipe. He could meet anyone, go anywhere, do anything . . . and he wasn't sure what to do with that. He had never had to make decisions like this before and he wasn't even sure what the first step to take was. There were steps which were not available to him, though, and he didn't have to look around to be sure that another Crotalus would be entering Cascade Hall at the same time as he was, as unavailable to him as ever.

Entering Cascade Hall as a very different person than he'd last left it, Felipe tried his best to take it all in again as if for the first time. However, his stomach was doing flips. He would do his best not to look at anyone, not to think about anyone, not to be anyone. Not yet. Later, he would find Zara and he would tell her if he could figure out how to put words to any of it. Hey, remember when we talked about what an utter failure I am? As it turns out, I wasn't the only one who saw it and now I don't have to worry about living up to my parents' standards because they don't have any for me! Isn't it just so great? Let's go on an adventure.

Felipe found that he spent most of his time on a pendulum of emotions, swinging between grief and fear, down to apathy and numbness, and then back up to recklessness and lack of care. He wanted to do all the things he could never do before, although he still couldn't bring himself to slouch when he took his seat. When the headmaster was done - which didn't take long, to Felipe's relief - Felipe turned to the food in front of him. There were so many things and he wanted to try all of them. He wanted to do everything and anything. He also had vivid memories of throwing it all up and wasn't sure he was ready to tempt that particular bucket of recklessness.

Still, his food wasn't the only way Felipe could test out his new freedom and when the girl beside him - a first year he recognized from when Leonor was sorted - turned towards him, he cocked his head a little bit at her. She was sitting next to him, which was nice because he didn't feel like shouting across the table to be heard over the din of everything else. She was smiling and she was really very pretty.

He opened his mouth to respond and his mind raced as he decided what to say. Fine, thanks. Yours? That was the appropriate response but he didn't have to worry about that right now. That was Leonor's problem now. "Crap," he decided on, running a hand through his hair as nerves made him doubt himself. It felt good, though, too. "It's good to be back. How about yours?"

22 Felipe De Matteo There's no way any of this is real. 1434 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

February 18, 2020 9:45 PM

I think one of them was born fabulous and the other worked up to it. by Leonor De Matteo

Leonor raised her eyebrows as Theo practically shouted at her. It was weirdly endearing because he just seemed so excited about everything. He also seemed a lot smarter than he sometimes let on. There was nothing to make Leonor think that he didn't understand why you weren't supposed to shout or be that excited about stuff, or any other weird thing he did. He didn't even seem rebellious. Theo was just Theo, and that was a lovely thing. Really, it was the sort of thing that Leonor had never really recognized the beauty of before.

"Marshmallows break?" she asked, her mouth twitching into a playful smile. She thought about the idea of all breaks being a bit like that: sticky and messy and tasty and sweet and best taken in small doses. Leonor listened to his description with rapt attention, not taking the time to be surprised by how much she apparently cared about this topic. Theo cared and that made it interesting enough because he only seemed to care about really important things.

Truth be told, she had often wondered whether all boys were as boring as Felipe. She suspected that wasn't the case, but even the boys in Ciudad de Matteo were boring. They were all just focused on working and whatever else. Leonor had a real grown up job now and she wasn't half so boring as Felipe had been. Theo wasn't boring either. He was the sort of boy that made her understand why some of her classmates - like Anya and Freddie and stuff - seemed to like running around more than they cared about how they looked. Really, it sort of worked out for them because Leonor thought they were very exciting for it and if her goal was to look good and be important, she might as well start with being exciting.

"¿Qué? What are the parts that go into a smores?" she asked. She tried to imagine how one would go about eating a marshmallow with a fork and knife. Until Theo said that, she thought she at least knew what a marshmallow was in some small way. Now she wasn't sure. "Where can we get a smores?"

22 Leonor De Matteo I think one of them was born fabulous and the other worked up to it. 1471 0 5

Mab

February 19, 2020 8:04 AM

Pass the potatoes? by Mab

Her first semester as a changeling in the Fey Lands had concluded. Mab did not entirely know what to make of it. On the one hand, it was the Fey Lands and everything was magical and strange that sometimes brought her joy and amazement, but just as often simply left her very very confused, or occasionally even vaguely horrified.

And sometimes it was, and she wasn’t sure if this was a universal constant of schools in general or if she was acclimating already, but sometimes it was just plain old boring.

She’d had the option of going on a field trip during the fall, and her foster mother had signed the form, but Mab had decided to stay behind, to enjoy some peace and quiet for once in her life. When nearly everyone else had left, she regretted the decision, because, as it turned out, peace and quiet was kind of dull.

She’d also been given the choice between staying at Sonora or returning to Boston over Christmas, and she’d picked Boston. Bel had helped her look for her mom again, and even showed her the notes she had on the official missing persons investigation, but so far no luck on that, but also, no confirmation that something terrible had happened either, so there was that. Anyway, Mab still had a foster mom instead of a real mom, but it was oddly not awful.

It was different. And it was awkward, being a part of a family Christmas celebration where she was the new person and still regarded as, well, a changeling. She wasn’t replacing anybody, of course, as she was the stolen human child rather than the replacement fairy child (or did having magic mean she had always been the fairy child and the fairies were merely reclaiming her now?), but she still felt like the Snuffleupagus standing amongst three Big Birds while the audio track sang One Of These Things Is Not Like The Others.

But they tried to help her belong. They weren’t a big family, so she couldn’t really get lost among them, and she didn’t really have anyone close to her own age, as she fell at about half the age of her one foster cousin and twice the age of her other one. They were nice though and eager to try to work her into their traditions.

Ben was like twenty, which was too old to really feel like he wasn’t a grownup to her, but he didn’t count himself as one yet since he was still in college, so he tried to play board games with her, which was kind of fun and kind of flattering. Cole was only six, but he really wanted another kid to play with, and she was what he had available, so she played Paw Patrol with him some, too. Though they had to watch some episodes first so she knew what Paw Patrol was.

It was kind of weird, now, being back at Sonora, where there actually were people her own age, and she realized she had interacted with Ben and Cole more closely and personally than she had with anyone here.

She’d never been good at making friends. She’d always been a little, well, a little too fey, she supposed, and a little too poor to come across as normal to other kids. And that had been before she’d spend two months living on her own with nobody but her to look after herself.

She felt she had accomplished a lot just by not beating anyone up for looking at her wrong or touching her unexpectedly and so pushing her into fight or flight mode.

Still, she knew she came across as kind of stand-offish, and nobody had really tried to hard to break past her defenses. Well, other than Theo, who seemed to think she didn’t have any defenses to push past, but he was a different variety of fey than most of them and had a very strange worldview compared to hers, so she wasn’t sure if that counted.

She found a seat at the Pecari table, not sure if she should try to talk to someone or if she should just keep to herself as much as possible, as was her norm. She was naturally about as talkative as the Headmaster, and she took the brevity of his greetings as a sign. She didn’t have to talk yet. There would be a quieter opportunity later if she really wanted to try to break out of her shell. Which she really wasn’t sure she did. From here she could listen to Theo and Leonor talk, and that seemed much safer than being pulled into a deep discussion about marshmallows.

What she did need was on the other side of an older student seated in the opposite direction from her two fellow first years. “Can you pass the potatoes?”

1 Mab Pass the potatoes? 1473 0 5

Sadie-Lake Chalmers

February 19, 2020 9:56 PM

It's realer than Instagram by Sadie-Lake Chalmers

The chilli Sadie was serving herself with fell to her plate with a slight splat as the boy next to her dropped a single, blunt cuss word in response to her question. Not enough to splash messily off the plate but probably enough that it was evident the spoon had slipped.

“Sorry?” she stated, holding the empty serving spoon for a second too long before putting it back. It was uttered slightly timidly and with an slight rise to the intonation, which made it impossible to distinguish whether that was ‘I’m sorry to hear that’ (but with added nerves, wanting to check if that was the right response) or ‘What did you just say?’

“Um… Yeah. I think mine was fine?” she queried, which sounded really dumb now she’d said it out loud, because who didn’t know how their own break had gone? But she sort of wasn’t sure about flaunting the fact her break had been ‘fine’ when his hadn’t been. There was also the part where that just patently wasn’t true but, unlike this boy, Sadie was not about to spill all her feelings to a total stranger. She wasn’t sure if she should ask whether he wanted to talk about it or not. It seemed both rude not to ask and rude to intrude, and so she just sat in quiet indecisiveness, which – even though she didn’t intend it to – probably put the ball back in his court.

13 Sadie-Lake Chalmers It's realer than Instagram 1480 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

February 19, 2020 10:54 PM

That's a pretty low bar. by Felipe De Matteo

Felipe stifled a grimace at the girl's obvious discomfort with his response. He thought that there were probably three reasons she could be so uncomfortable. Either she knew that Felipe was not usually like that, and she was stunned; she was not usually like that herself - was that what Felipe had always been like? - and didn't know what to do; or this was exactly why people weren't supposed to be so blunt and he had made another terrible mistake.

"Sorry," he murmured under his breath, looking at his own plate and nibbling at something. He didn't taste it. "I didn't mean to be so rude."

Her own response seemed much more in line with something he could understand, which was sort of bittersweet. However, she probably didn't mean it like that, right? Because most people weren't so petty as he was, or so lame. He wondered whether it was too late to fix himself, if he had always been such a stick in the mud as Leonor seemed to think he was. Maybe he was just going to be like this forever, swinging from boring to excessive. The likelihood was greater than he liked to admit.

"I'm glad to hear that," Felipe said, louder but just as softly as before. He wasn't sure how to make it clear with his tone that he was safe. That she could talk to him. How could he be other people's Zara? That was maybe too much to strive for. "Do you live nearby Sonora? I'm Felipe, by the way."

He caught himself just shy of "Felipe De Matteo of Los Jardines de Plata." Even his full name, without the estate, sounded like too much. It didn't matter if he was a De Matteo now, because that was just a bloodline and a place to sleep during school breaks. It was no longer who he was, and the sooner he accepted that, the better.

22 Felipe De Matteo That's a pretty low bar. 1434 0 5

Evelyn Stones

February 19, 2020 11:05 PM

Everyone should get to enjoy some potatoes as often as possible. by Evelyn Stones

Evelyn couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something that felt like it was impending by coming back to Sonora. She'd only ever heard the word when it was followed by "doom," and she was pretty sure it wasn't impending doom, but maybe it was a bit like the way fate felt. Some part of her regretted that she hadn't felt this way over the past several years, when she really should have. She'd come to this big magical school, gotten away from her childhood home, and become her own person, with friends and classes and so much food. Wow, there was a lot of food.

She took a scoop of potatoes and drizzled gravy over them as she continued thinking, as lost in her thoughts as she'd ever seen Ness or Heinrich be. Perhaps Aladren-ness was contagious. Heh. Aladren Ness.

Sonora felt more like home than ever, but the cessation of winter break also meant that it was halfway to the end of the year. It was halfway to the last time she'd be in classes with Heinrich for another year. It was halfway to "sweet sixteen" and all the things that that came with (which arguably wasn't very much). It was halfway to summer. It was halfway to the Ball. It was also more than halfway through the entirety of her Sonora education, which was particularly difficult to wrap her mind around.

She looked over to the Aladren table, naturally searching for both Ness and Heinrich, and doing her best not to look jealous that they got to sit together if they wanted - although she didn't think they probably wanted - and trying to replace the expression with the absolute joy she felt at having the best friends in the world. And whatever they were. Which wasn't anything. Which was fine.

Her eyes fell back to her potatoes and she decided that she should try to get into the spirit of the new year and all the upcoming holiday foods. She scanned the table for something more light, and noticed some lasagna a little ways off. It wasn't exactly lighter, but it didn't scream "holidays" either, and the three first years nearby it didn't seem to be taking any just then, so it seemed safe to take. Except she couldn't reach it. She was sitting next to a first year who was not that much smaller than she was. Awesome. Fifteen going on eleven friggin' years old.

Before she could decide whether the lasagna was worth it, the first year asked her for the potatoes. That instantly made this girl cool, and Evelyn smiled at her. "Yes," she said, turning to reach for them again. "But only if you pass me the lasagna. We'll make a trade out of it."

22 Evelyn Stones Everyone should get to enjoy some potatoes as often as possible. 1422 0 5

Sadie-Lake Chalmers

February 20, 2020 5:32 AM

It's the only one I've got by Sadie-Lake Chalmers

“Oh, no,” Sadie stated apologetically when the boy felt compelled to apologise, “No, you weren’t. I just- I um- I wasn’t sure-“ What to say? Whether you’d want to talk to me about it? She twirled her hair in her fingers, utterly failing to finish her sentence because she was pretty sure that anything she could say was either really obvious or just going to make the awkward worse. She was starting to feel like she had a special gift for that. It was a less welcome one than the magic. Luckily he picked up the slack, putting them back onto more neutral normal ground.

“Yeah, pretty close. Southern California,” she answered, quietly, “You?” she asked, thinking it was probably polite to return the favour even if he seemed glad to be away from home.

“I’m Sadie-Lake,” she replied, when he introduced himself. “Are you-“ she began, and then realised what she’d done. Crap. It was the time at home, plus being caught off guard by the whole conversation so far – it had started out weird, and then when it had jumped back to normal, safe territory, she’d just slipped back onto autopilot. She opened her mouth, half intending to back pedal and say ‘just Sadie’ but then worrying that would make it more conspicuous. Maybe he’d assume it was just her family name? It was plausible enough, given that it was such a stupid thing to be part of a first name. And he’d never hear her roll-called cos they were in different grades and she wasn’t significant enough that he’d ever be talking about her to anyone. She hoped. “Are you a fourth year?” she continued, deciding it was safer to finish her original question, almost glad she’d been so stuttery throughout this entire process because maybe her hesitation and changes of direction wouldn’t be so obvious now. She thought he didn’t look that old, but it was something she’d picked up from her mom – kids were flattered when you guessed older than their real age, adults when you guessed lower. There was a weird point where you transitioned between the two where it depended whether it was complimentary or frustrating, depending on whether you were being chatted up or were attempting to legitimately purchase alcohol but had forgotten your ID. She could feel her cheeks burning slightly, and hoped he just assumed it was because she felt shy about talking to someone so much older than her. It wasn’t like that was entirely inaccurate anyway.

13 Sadie-Lake Chalmers It's the only one I've got 1480 0 5

Mab

February 20, 2020 9:02 AM

Pass them and nobody gets hurt, see? by Mab

Mab’s first instinct was to hoard the lasagna. She hadn’t had any yet (she hadn’t planned to have any either as she didn’t like the weird cheese in it) and sharing food was still hard for her (though it was getting easier after half a year of abundance). But she wanted the potatoes the other girl had more so she nodded reluctantly. “I accept your hostage exchange,” she agreed.

She picked up the lasagna dish carefully, still not entirely used to magic dishes that didn’t inflict second degree burns even when they contained piping hot food, and held it just out of reach of the older girl. She gave the blond a hard look of suspicion.

“You’re not going to double cross me?” she questioned harshly, her Boston accent doing nothing to reduce the effect of some kind of inner city mob exchange. She knew perfectly well that a double cross was entirely ridiculous under these circumstances, but she was finding it kind of fun to see how the other girl might react, see if she’d play along. She wondered if this rekindled interest in playing pretend was Cole’s fault, and if the older girl would just think she was being silly and childish. But she wasn’t that much bigger than Mab, so maybe she’d want to play, too.

Ben had, and he was twenty. But he hadn’t played pretend, not with her, just with Cole. Was Mab supposed to be too old for it, too? She felt kind of too old for it, but she didn’t want to be too old for it, not quite yet.

She decided not to demand proof of life from the potatoes until she knew better how this was going to go.

1 Mab Pass them and nobody gets hurt, see? 1473 0 5

Evelyn Stones

February 20, 2020 11:14 AM

Don't threaten me with a good time. by Evelyn Stones

Evelyn blinked, surprised, and then gave a wry smile. She cocked an eyebrow and copied the girl's movement, keeping the potatoes out of the way. The younger girl seemed very serious and very... Haunted? There was something about her that made Evelyn think of kids who played games to forget about other things, or because they were supposed to rather than because they really wanted to. There was a desperation to that that Evelyn could understand. Or perhaps she was seeing things. It wouldn't be the first time she projected and thinking back to her own first year at Sonora, it wasn't a big leap to imagine this girl in the same place she'd been. Regardless, there simply weren't enough people in the world who played and Evelyn was giddy at the chance. These were the conversations that made her grateful to be in Pecari.

She wondered whether this first year had anybody like Ness in her life. If Evelyn remembered correctly, there w|re three first year Pecaris - more than Evelyn's year had - but that didn't say anything about who the girl was friends with. Maybe she had lots of friends. Maybe she had none. It was impossible to know, but Evelyn could at least be open to it. There weren't many reasons she could think of to not just keep making more friends all the time.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said. She gestured with her chin at the pot of gravy. "You don't want things to get ugly, do ya? Just make the trade and no one gets hurt."

She made a show of leaning towards the gravy, a question on her face. "What's it going to be?"

22 Evelyn Stones Don't threaten me with a good time. 1422 0 5

Mab

February 20, 2020 5:07 PM

It's not a threat, it's a promise by Mab

Mab felt a strange sensation bubbling inside her and she very nearly giggled before she realized what was happening and she stopped herself. Her lips twitched, and her nose and the back of her throat made that sound like she was blowing it into a tissue, but she managed to hold the laugh inside. She schooled her features back from the crinkle eyed smiling look back to grim seriousness and dire threat. It was harder than it should have been given that the former look was only a rare and brief visitor on her face while the later was her default expression. Well, may not quite so grim or so dire, but it definitely closer to her normal facial configuration than a laughing face was.

Her mouth twitched a few more times as she tried to come up with a response to the other girl that she could deliver with a straight face. Her eyes kept drifting to the gravy and imagining how much trouble they'd both get in if things did 'get ugly'. It would be kind of glorious, really, but she did not want to be the one getting hauled in front of Fey Vincent Price for starting a food fight on the first day back from break.

"A'right," she growled, her accent trying to mimic one of the bad guys on her foster mother's crime dramas. From what she could tell based on evening viewing habits and the DVD shelf, Bel's human culture weaknesses seemed to be for superhero flicks and police procedurals. "Let's see some proof of life from those potatoes."

1 Mab It's not a threat, it's a promise 1473 0 5

Cleo James

February 22, 2020 6:05 AM

I'm cheering you! (Tag Parker) by Cleo James

Christmas had been strange in a lot of ways. First off, there had been daddy’s suggestion of inviting Isaac over for, if Cleo interpreted the subtext correctly, a slice of Christmas cake and an apology. Cleo had, of course, told Daddy repeatedly how good Isaac had been about everything the previous term. Far too late, it seemed that it had somehow sunk in. Well, they did say better late than never…

Something even stranger than that had happened though. When they had first started meeting for lessons, Virginia had given her the details of a support group for beings with mixed ancestry. She had held onto that, not really sure it was something she wanted or needed, but not taking the chance on throwing it out either. For a long time, she had wanted to control her veela side, to keep herself neatly within the little box of human. It had felt like something to control – for her own, and others’ safety, to try not being that as much as possible. She had always known that Viriginia didn’t particularly share that attitude. She thought that Cleo knowing and understanding all parts of herself was important, but she hadn’t pushed her to know the veela part any more than she wanted – if Cleo wanted to focus on control, that was her choice. But after everything that had happened last year, Cleo’s perspective had shifted. For one thing, it hadn’t been the veela part of her that caused her to get hurt in the first place. It hadn’t been necessary to release any kind of inner monster for disaster to happen. But when it had come into play was how people treated her when they found out. And she suddenly saw how startling less than equal she was, whatever school they let her attend or label they gave her. She had thought it might be good to connect with people who understood some of that.

She had gone to a meet up of the nearest group. Daddy had been busy in the shop, which she had been grateful for because she wanted to go by herself anyway. It was easier to tell him that when it was a reason why he needn’t feel guilty instead of an argument about whether he should or shouldn’t come. She got that he wanted to look after her, especially after everything that had happened, but he wasn’t going to be able to follow her around for the rest of her life. Nor did she really want him to. And this felt like something she should do herself, without him hovering over her shoulder.

Once again though, when she struck out on her own, things had not exactly gone according to plan. She had found the meeting place okay, and it was pretty clear it was the right place from the taller than naturally possible, heavy-looking girl guarding the door. It was pretty easy to guess she was part giant. Cleo’s first thought had been that she had a mean look about her, with her heavy set features and square jaw, although she had then told herself that was very judgemental and tried not to think it. However, first impressions, it turned out, were sometimes accurate.

“This room’s booked for a private meeting,” the girl glared, small eyes narrowing at Cleo.

“Yes. I’m here for that. The mixed ancestry group, right?”

“And what are you supposed to be?” the girl asked.

“E-Excuse me?” Cleo stammered. “I’m… um… half-veela,” she stated anxiously, not liking the way the girl was putting her on the spot. What was she? What a rude question!

“Oh. Right,” the square jaw set, as she took another appraising look at Cleo. “That must be real tough. Blending in, except for the fact that everyone thinks you’re extra beautiful. This is supposed to be a group for people with problems.”

Cleo gaped for a moment. She had expected to find a safe space, where she was able to admit to and explore the part of herself she had always been scared of. And now she… what, wasn’t monster enough to join? And really – what problems did she have? Had this girl never picked up a newspaper? Even without knowing who Cleo was, how big a rock did you have to be living under to believe that half-veelas didn’t have problems?

“There are plenty of problems with the way society treats half-veela-”

“Yeah. We know,” the girl cut off. “Victim blaming. Are you human enough to count. We’ve heard it. We’ve heard nothing but that for months. Let me guess, you’re Blake Brize-Norton’s assault victim?”

Cleo didn’t get as far as saying ‘I am.’ She was too confused. It had never been an identity she wanted to parade, but now it felt like it was being dismissed as even being relevant-

“Funny. Cos she was here last week. And she showed up in the Utah chapter too. Not sure if it was even the same girl both of those times. So. You’ll forgive us if we actually want a chance to talk about something else for a change. Maybe like… the daily harassment we get for those of us who don’t pass.”

She hadn’t gone in. She hadn’t seen another person, frightened by the hand life had dealt them, and maybe not dealing with that very well. She had just seen that she was unwelcome. She had done a little shopping, and passed the rest of the time in a café, trying to pretend the barista didn’t keep looking at her more than she felt was natural, before returning home and shrugging it off as having been ‘not worth going back to’ when Daddy asked.

She was deeply puzzled though. And felt somehow strangely betrayed. On the one hand, it wasn’t like it had been something she’d been wearing as a badge of pride. It had been bad enough last year when it felt like it had become so obvious that everyone knew it was her even without her being named. But still… It was something that had happened to her. And now, even when it might have come in handy (a strange way to think about it, but true nonetheless) it had been denied her. Again, it was odd to say that she resented someone else taking the attention, when she’d had more than enough of that last year. But it should have been her card to play, her corner to fight when she needed it… And it was baffling. Why would anyone want that kind of attention if it hadn’t really happened to them?

This was somewhat on her mind as she made her way to the Pecari table. Since her second year, Parker’s first, it had been her steady haunt at returning feasts. Of course, she’d missed it last year. But, as she’d skipped an Opening Feast one too, it was a fairly even split for how many feasts she’d spent at each table. The more enjoyable ones had certainly been at Pecari, and there wasn’t anywhere else she’d want to spend her last one. She dropped down in the seat next to Parker with a smile, putting aside her question of ‘why would anyone pretend to be me?’ for now. If there was a suitable time to bring it up, she would – she was trying this whole thing where she talked to people about what was on her mind, after all – but she also wanted their last feast to be fun and nice, and about both of them.

There was also the matter of Christmas presents. That couldn’t possibly be neglected. They’d got into the pattern of exchanging after break during Parker’s first year, and Cleo liked it that way – it gave the opportunity for browsing at home. Not that there were many shops in her town. One tiny plus-side of her failed attempt to attend the meeting had been a chance to poke around a few magical shops. She’d got him a cheering cactus. It was the stereotypical little cactus shape, with the sticky out arms, and – although it didn’t need much watering – when you did, it waggled them in celebration. It also effused a slight chemical into the atmosphere which was meant to add a sense of wellbeing to the room. Hence the name, on two counts. It was one of those plants that was decidedly fun and magical but blended pretty easily into a Muggle home, so long as you didn’t water it in front of anyone, or forget about it and invite a non-magical neighbour to take care of things while you were on holiday.

The headmaster’s speech was so brief she almost missed it, and she was more cued to the fact the feast had begun by the food appearing.

“Happy Christmas,” she smiled, holding the gift out to Parker. It was wrapped carefully, the paper stuck tightly around the pot so that it could be arched over the plant without touching it. “Don’t turn it upside down whilst unwrapping,” she advised.

13 Cleo James I'm cheering you! (Tag Parker) 389 0 5

Jeremy Mordue

February 22, 2020 6:22 PM

Yeah, everything's great by Jeremy Mordue

Christmas had been pretty weird. On the surface of it, a lot of stuff had been the same. Tree. Big dinner. Lots of presents. It wasn’t even like it was unusual for them to spend much of it at Uncle Alexander and Aunt Avery’s. Normally- or, rather, ‘before’ – they had got up in their own home, and done breakfast in pyjamas because it was Christmas and opened one present each before going up to get washed and dressed. Then they’d do the rest of the presents from each other, play a while, and then go off to their Aunt and Uncle’s.

He had quietly asked Simon what the routine was for Christmas morning, and Simon had looked at him with that calm, bland face of his, which read nothing into the question and offered little sense of surprise in the answer that it wasn’t different to any other morning until it got to presents, which they did once Mother was sure that the dinner was being prepared properly. Jeremy had not even dared suggest breakfast in pyjamas at Uncle Alexander’s house.

He had debated whether to go and tell Nathaniel, or whether Nathaniel would just think it was so obvious that they wouldn’t do that here. Or he’d have already been told by Sylvia. Or have told her and compared traditions in the past. He tried to remember whether any of them had explicitly mentioned it in front of the others before. He had a vague memory of almost saying it once, when everyone had been talking about their morning but no one else had mentioned it - but dad had winked at him, and he’d thought that maybe it was a secret. And then it always had been so in his head – a silly thing they did, but that they wouldn’t tell the Heir’s House with their fancy china and their rules about dressing for dinner. Not that they didn’t have those rules normally too. Just… it was Christmas.

So, he supposed, maybe that answered it. Maybe it was obvious that they didn’t do that here. But he had never been sure how much keeping it a secret was a game he’d made up for himself, and whether there was a chance – slim as it seemed – that Uncle Alexander and Aunt Avery could be casual and silly on Christmas. Thinking that, it didn’t sound particularly plausible… So. It was probably just day clothes, and that was obvious and everyone knew.

But what if Nathaniel didn’t know, and he came downstairs on Christmas morning in his pyjamas and everyone laughed at him? Previously, Jeremy thought he might have found that funny. He might have thought Nathaniel coming down a peg or two was exactly what he needed. But now it didn’t seem like it. And he wasn’t sure whether it was because breakfast in pyjamas was their family secret, or because Nathaniel was really more his family than the rest of them were, and the last bit of it he had left, but he really didn’t want Nathaniel, or breakfast in pyjamas, and especially not both of them together, to be made fun of.

Of course, if Nathaniel knew, he hadn’t come to tell Jeremy either. And it wasn’t like he ever thought Jeremy was capable of working out anything on his own. He felt like he hadn’t seen Nathaniel much in the holidays. He seemed to be avoiding speaking to him, which Jeremy felt vaguely betrayed by. And that pushed him back from Nathaniel’s door, feeling resentful, but it didn’t lessen the knot of worry in his stomach that Nathaniel didn’t know. He compromised by getting dressed early, and waiting a few paces down from Nathaniel’s door, so he could take a step or two forward as the door opened, looking like he was just passing down the corridor at the right time, but really so he could see when he opened it what he was wearing. Nathaniel had been fine, so Jeremy had just wished him ‘Merry Christmas’ as if nothing was different to usual, even though it all was, and they’d gone down to breakfast. In day clothes.

And then they did presents, which was odd to do all together, and dinner and everything should have felt like normal by the time they sat down in front of the best china because it was what they always did. Mother was absent, of course, but that was supposed to be normal now. It was just… it was like a Quidditch match where you’d got a bad kick off. Even once you steadied out and were sure you flying right, it just… stayed with you. It was hard to shake off that feeling that things hadn’t started out right.

He took a seat next to Martin at the feast, who normally didn’t say much – unlike Felipe, who didn’t know how to shut the heck the up. Though Martin, it seemed, was at least willing to make small talk today.

“It was good thanks,” Jeremy replied, when asked how his break was. After all, who didn’t enjoy Christmas? “Yours?

13 Jeremy Mordue Yeah, everything's great 1443 0 5

Gary Harper

February 25, 2020 7:11 PM

Back to work by Gary Harper

Gary wandered back into the school in a little bit of a daze. He had work to do, a lot of it. More than he had realized when he had left for the break. Naturally his eyes drifted around the room searching for Jasmine. He didn't spot her anywhere in the crowd, and he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. He was still, without a doubt, over the moon for the girl. But... ever since she'd agreed to go to the ball with him, all topics of conversation seem to be about clothing or accessories or scheduling some dance lessons or something else along those lines. He didn't have many thoughts on any of those subjects. His previous experience with fancy balls was 'My character get some fancy duds and makes some charisma or performance checks.' That's not terribly helpful at the moment.

He wound his way through the crowd to the Aladren table and set his backpack down next to him. He had his Starfinder books this time. That was another thing on his list of 'stuff-to-do'. He'd started putting together an outline for Ness' 'genderless robot space pirate' game. The new people in the group had a basic understanding of how the games work, he could throw something a little more strange at them again, but he'd run into a bit of writer's block. Hopefully that would sort itself out soon enough. That still wasn't the big thing on his list.

The headmaster gave his 'speech'. They seemed to be getting shorter each term, not that it was a bad thing. The food appeared and he put some on his plate, not really paying attention to what he was doing. The big thing he had been avoiding was what he was going to do after graduation next year. Dad had asked him innocently enough over break what wizards did for a living, other than teaching, once they graduated. Gary had just stared blankly back at his dad, the thought for some reason had never actually occurred to him. Sure, he had taken his CATS last year and picked out which classes he was going to keep taking, but that had seemed less like career choice options, and more just doing the things that you were good at doing.

So, he had to figure out what he was doing with his life this term. Wonderful. Step one was to talk to Professor Wright, hopefully he'd have some options, he doubted wandering adventurer was on that list though. Were there Fighter, Rogue, Cleric and Ranger schools that had a common LFG communication system with his wizard school? That would be nice. Then to top it all off, somewhere during the 'after graduation' talk he mentioned he had gotten a date for the ball. Dad had then promptly snitched on him to June and she had all sorts of 'helpful' advice on how to woo a girl. He had been glad to get back to school again.

2 Gary Harper Back to work 1404 0 5

Martin Crosby V

March 01, 2020 10:12 AM

Now let's not exaggerate. by Martin Crosby V

It had been a mistake.

Unfortunately for Martin, the thing about beginning a conversation was that it required him to actually engage in a conversation, and How was your break? was simply not the conclusion of the interaction. The person - Jeremy Mordue, in this particular case - had to actually respond. Now he was expected to speak again. And then Jeremy would go. Then he would go. Then Jeremy would go, and so on like that, probably until one of them died.

Martin wasn’t entirely up to date on the Mordue family, although he recalled knowing of some upheaval. He sometimes did his best to keep tabs on other families on par with his socially, but it was difficult and tiresome to balance his noisy Pureblood instincts with his general distaste for humanity. It was a struggle he found quite tedious, and as a result, this family’s status had slipped through the cracks in his mental records. That combined with his rooming situation wherein he shared a dormitory with his fellow third year, he chose to err on the side of caution and remain polite.

“Mine was fine, thank you for asking,” Martin returned courteously. “But it will be good to return to our studies. I was expecting more homework over break now that we’re Intermediates.”

12 Martin Crosby V Now let's not exaggerate. 1439 0 5

Jeremy Mordue

March 15, 2020 3:53 AM

Fine by Jeremy Mordue

Martin’s break had been ‘fine.’ Of course. Which was an answer which could encompass any range of scenarios from having been genuinely quite enjoyable to the house having burnt down around him, because what was anyone going to say except ‘fine?’ Jeremy gave a polite nod, more or less expecting that to be the end of it.

Then Martin mentioned studies and homework. Jeremy managed not to drop the serving spoon he was holding, or stare incredulously, but he did offer a silent rebuke to the gods of roommate allocation, wondering what he’d ever done to be stuck between a violent hothead and someone with all the personality of a dry bit of toast.

He wished he could tell Martin he was a nerd or at least answer honestly that he really hadn’t minded all the free time. But then he’d look lazy, and there was family reputation, and you had to over analyze every damn thing you said… And so, even though he was sorely tempted to try one of those options, just to see the look on Martin’s face, he didn’t.

“The teachers probably can’t be bothered with coming back to a big pile of marking,” he suggested with a roll of his eyes that suggested he found their laziness intolerable. Even if, on this occasion, it had more than suited him.

13 Jeremy Mordue Fine 1443 0 5

Martin Crosby V

March 26, 2020 2:43 PM

Good choice. by Martin Crosby V

Martin laughed. Not a big laugh, mind you, but a decent little chuckle. It sounded odd, coming from him. The resulting noise of tickling a horse might have been more agreeable to the ear. Not that there was anything especially wrong about his laugh - like most details of Martin Crosby V, it was quite unremarkable - but it did not match the reputation he had carefully crafted over the last two and a half years. So, indeed, it probably sounded odd.

But Jeremy had a good point. The teachers in this place were quite lazy. Most adults were, Martin found. There was this great big emphasis and authority placed with adulthood, but most of them were large children. Not like Martin, who was just a small adult. It was ironic how that worked out.

Maybe he had misjudged Jeremy, if only slightly. Martin was not that easily taken in, but he did mentally attribute his roommate a positive point. In less exact terms, Martin kept relative tallies on all of his acquaintances. Say something stupid, that was minus points. Leave him alone for a while, strongly in your favor. And sharing his cynicism as Jeremy had done was a definite boon to one’s total.

“I believe you’re right,” he said with a smile. “Excellent observation.” The Crotalus rarely handed out compliments; this was a momentous occasion. “What did you do with all that additional free time?”

12 Martin Crosby V Good choice. 1439 0 5

Parker Fitzgerald

April 08, 2020 1:13 PM

Thanks! I needed a distraction. by Parker Fitzgerald

It was all unfair. That's what it seemed like to Parker as he sat down at his table for the feast. He looked around the room at all the smiling students and even the teachers were cheery, well, most of them. The Headmaster hadn't smiled in all the years' Parker had been at Sonora, and he briefly wondered how worried he'd get if the Headmaster were to smile.

Parker looked at the Headmaster and squinted, tilting his head slightly to see if he could figure out what the Headmaster would even look like if he did smile. But the cheerful reunions around him bardged into his thoughts and he was once again thinking about how life was unfair.

It wasn't that he had many problems, per se. It was just that this break had been hard. He'd been at home. This wasn't bad, but it did mean that Parker had to spend time with his brother JR. Now that JR was out of military school and actually in the military, it meant Parker was also spending it with JR's girlfriend. Or were they engaged, Parker couldn't remember. Either way, they lived together on the base, so now they came to the Fitzgerald household for Christmas.

It just seemed unfair that JR, of all people, could get and keep a girlfriend, and here was Parker, unable to even get a date! Surprisingly, JR made no comments on this the entire break. That had made it almost worse like it wasn't worth noting to JR.

It wasn't that he disliked Tess. Parker thought she was great. JR's girlfriend seemed kind, was studying to be a nurse and had seemed genuinely interested in what Parker and Lyssa did at a school without computers. It was more the whole unfairness that the monster JR had a girlfriend.

Parker had wanted to ask Tess what she'd seen in JR? How had JR wooed her? But Parker had stopped himself from doing so. Partially out of fear of retribution from his brother and partially because something about Tess was intimidating. Instead, he'd used his free time to research how to pick up women on the internet. The ideas offered all seemed like horrible things to do to anyone, especially someone he was interested in. The suggestions that were the most insane to Parker focused on belittling the other party. How could that even work?

How did other people do it? With or without magic, people seem to figure out. Parker worried that he had become emotionally or mentally diminished somehow because of the constant transferring between the Muggle and Wizarding world. Maybe he just had to choose one and live there.

Parker turned to see Cleo sitting next to him and a quick squeak escaped his lips. He'd gotten used to her not joining the Feasts and was not prepared for her to be here at this one. His mind switched gears mid-spiral and started running the opposite direction. He let out a big smile and felt his sadness ebb a bit.

"It's nice to see you," he said quietly as the Headmaster began to stand. Parker neededt have bothered being quiet, before Parker had fully turned to face the Headmaster, the old man was sitting down again and food had appeared on the table. When Parker turned around towards Cleo, she was holding out a gift.

IDIOT was all Parker could think as he took the lovingly wrapped present. He'd been so in his head he'd forgotten to get Cleo a gift this year. As he was deciding if he should lie and what he could get her, his curiosity got the better of him.

Don’t turn it upside down?

He put the present down, right-side up and slowly unwrapped the present. He felt better seeing the little cactus sitting there. Something about it made him calmer.

"Thanks for the cactus. It's so cute," Parker stuck his finger out like he was going to touch it and then stopped. "I'm sorry, Cleo. I'm a bad friend. I didn't get you a present this year. I…" Parker couldn't figure out how to say he was wallowing in self-doubt and low self-esteem, mainly because he didn't know what wallowing was or really what self-doubt was either. He couldn't figure out how to say it, so instead, he said,

"I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, though. Let's go for a walk after the feast and plan what we'll do for the gardening club. Get our minds back into the best parts of Sonora?"

Parker turned back to the little plant sitting in front of him and brought his head down to table level so he could look at it straight on.

"I can't tell if it is a regular cute cactus or magical," Parker said, "either way, it is very cool. Thanks." He reached his arm out around Cleo to give her a sideways hug without thinking about it. Like he would have done with his sister.

41 Parker Fitzgerald Thanks! I needed a distraction. 1402 0 5

Cleo James

April 14, 2020 8:05 AM

...you're welcome? by Cleo James

(CW - assault/victim blaming)

He hadn’t got her anything? Why?

“Oh. That’s fine,” Cleo stated, because she’d been raised with enough manners that she knew that was the only appropriate response. Her voice and her expression probably didn’t do a particularly good job of backing up that message though.

Because it wasn’t fine.

It was ‘fine’ if your family friend gave a generic ‘for everyone’ present that did not include you personally. It was fine if your elderly neighbour gave you something that was totally heinously ugly or suited for a child about half your age, cos they were out of touch or going a bit loopy. It was ‘fine’ if people you didn’t know super well didn’t give you stuff. It wasn’t fine when your best friend just cut you out of gift giving.

Cleo wondered whether it was to do with last year. Last break was sort of hazy for her, and Parker possibly had ended up without a gift. This didn’t incline her towards the kind of self-reflection that pointed out that anyone’s break could go wonky, and that maybe something bad had happened to Parker, but more to the idea that he was… what, evening the scales? Annoyed at her for last Christmas?

Wow. She was so-rry that being harrassed and groped had interefered with her gift giving abilities.

Or was it something else around what had happened? Did he just think she wasn’t really worth as much anymore?

“We probably have to go to bed right after the feast,” she reminded him, when he suggested a walk, “But… tomorrow. Or sometime,” she suggested, trying her best to sound normal.

Her answer to his next question was cut off by Parker’s arm going around her. She neither set him on fire nor overturned the gravy boat in her surprise but she was a bit taken aback. Still, she had no time for any reaction other than her shoulders stiffening under his arm before it was done.

“It’s magical,” she stated, regarding the cactus, glad for the new thread of conversation to grasp onto. The one that wasn’t ‘What the heck is going on with you?’

13 Cleo James ...you're welcome? 389 0 5