Nathan Xavier
December 23, 2022 6:37 PM
Beginners: Welcome to Herbology by Nathan Xavier
It was the first Herbology lesson of the school year, and Professor Nathan Xavier stood just outside Greenhouse One, to welcome the new first years and welcome back the returning second years, and also to prevent anyone from going inside the swelteringly hot greenhouse where they were nominally supposed to hold their class today.Once it looked like he had the full class, he smiled at them and started with an introduction. "Hello, I am Professor Xavier, sometimes called Professor X," mostly that was Phil Carson, but he wasn't the first to make the X-Men reference and Nathan doubted he would be the last. He trusted nobody would confuse him with the fictional Charles, given Nathan still had a full head of hair, did not have a wheelchair, and didn't know any Legilimency. "And this is Herbology. Normally, we meet in there, which is Greenhouse One. Greenhouse Two is a little further down this path, you can just about see it over the hedge there," he pointed along the main path they would have continued to go down if they hadn't stopped when they saw him. "Greenhouse Two is for Advanced students, so until you pass your CATS, you'll primarily be meeting me right here." He gestured again at Greenhouse One.
"Unfortunately, it is very hot in there right now, so we generally have the first couple of lessons out in the Gardens here, where we have plenty of other plants to look at and learn about. For this first class of the year, I'm going to take you all on a tour of our labyrinth. Everyone, please take a handout," he waved his wand to distribute the day's assignment among the group. "What you should have just received is a hand out with the names of fifteen plants we have growing in our Labyrinth, and pictures of them to help you find them in the wild, as it were. Your job today is to find those fifteen plants as we walk around. Go ahead and call it out when you spot one, and you'll earn your House a point for each plant you identify before anyone else. But before we do that, let me just take attendance and make sure we have everyone." He would periodically need to do a headcount to make sure he hadn't lost anybody as they walked, and it would be good to have an accurate number to compare it to. "Say here when I say your name. Arcadius, Quillan!"
Once he had confirmed he had a list of everyone who was present, he stepped closer to the door of the Greenhouse, and opened it. "We're going to make a big circle through the Labyrinth and visit several of the larger landmarks in our Gardens. We should get back here in plenty of time for you to get to your next class. You may leave your bags and robes here in the Greenhouse, if you like, or you can take them with you."
After everyone who wanted to leave robes and bags behind had deposited them just inside the door, he started along the path toward Greenhouse Two. "Follow me please, and don't wander off or fall behind. You may talk amongst yourselves, but do remember to look for the plants, and listen when I'm talking."
He had already talked about Greenhouse Two, so he didn't say much for the first couple of minutes, but when a student spotted one of the plants on their list, he marked it off on his own copy and noted which student (or students, if there was a tie) had identified it and gave a little information about each of those plants. He also noted landmarks and when they reach a crossroad of paths, he described whether the routes they weren't taking would lead them deeper into the labyrinth or back toward the school, and some of the handy clues that would help them figure that out themselves if they got lost, such as that some paths leading toward the school had honking daffodils planted there to help draw attention to them, while fanged geraniums were often a warning that taking that path would lead you farther from the safety of the school.
It was a good day for a walk. Very warm, of course - this was still technically summer - but not horrendously so, though he had decided to leave his own robes in the Greenhouse, so that helped. He was wearing his wide brimmed wizard's hat to protect his eyes from the sun - which was very bright today, without a cloud in the sky - and wondered belatedly if he should have made that recommendation to the students as well.
He tried to set a pace that was easy for everyone to keep up with, and enjoyed eavesdropping on the conversations going on around him as he tried to get a sense of his newest students. He was also happy to answer any questions the students posed as they walked along.
OOC: Hello, and welcome to Sonora and to Herbology. This is a pretty loose lesson, so you can post about the walk, finding a plant, asking the professor questions, or just talking to your classmates.
Subthreads: I feel very welcome! by Quillan Arcadius with Nausicaa Scapetello
If you chat with your neighbor, does that make this a walkie-talkie? by Lyla Holland with Charlotte O'Malley
Questions for the professor by Leo Lyons
Plants, got it. by Ida Stanford with Donovan Peters
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Nathan Xavier
Beginners: Welcome to Herbology
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Quillan Arcadius
December 23, 2022 8:04 PM
I feel very welcome! by Quillan Arcadius
So far, Quillan was surviving his classes. It was early days yet, and there were probably several conversations he needed to have with Professor Wright to make sure things continued working out for him, but so far nothing that called an unpleasant amount of the wrong type of attention to him had happened.As he listened to the introductory speech for their first herbology lesson, that trend looked set to continue. The day’s class sounded very practical, and that whatever little element of writing that was going to be involved could be forgiven for being done incredibly badly, given that they would be doing it on the go. It was one of Quillan’s go to defence mechanisms when he was required to write by hand in front of others to just make it as scrawling and illegible as possible so they wouldn’t see the spelling mistakes. Whilst poor handwriting was mildly scandalous in and of itself, it was a far lesser crime than being a poor speller. Besides, he had mastered the art of making his writing look calligraphic and impressive—on occasion, it had the nature of being impossible to read because it was so refined.
He opted to leave his bag and his robes. He suspected they wouldn’t be doing too much digging through rough patches, otherwise the Professor would have forewarned them, and thus he wouldn’t really need his robes to protect him. It was a pleasant day out, and much nicer to walk without the uniform weighing him down.
He stayed near the front of the group, both to better hear Professor Xavier, and also to increase his chances of being the first to spot something on their list. He made mental notes about the paths, but didn’t seem to need to do much more than tick off the plants when they reached them. He kept an eye on his neighbours and on Professor Xavier, making sure he made comparable notes as he didn’t want to look like a slacker, though he was fairly sure that retracing their steps through the garden would do more to jog his memory than any of his own written notes. It was a good way to learn, moving about, attaching the mental notes to a physical space… He didn’t suppose all their classes would be like this, but it was definitely a good start.
“Sir? There’s some knotgrass,” he pointed out, when they passed a patch of it growing around the base of a tree.
Once it had been marked off, he felt he could relax a little, having contributed to the class.
“It’s good to be outdoors for a bit,” he smiled at his neighbour.
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Quillan Arcadius
I feel very welcome!
1570
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Lyla Holland
December 23, 2022 11:22 PM
If you chat with your neighbor, does that make this a walkie-talkie? by Lyla Holland
The gardens looked different when they weren't trying to kill you.Admittedly, as a first year, there hadn't been anything in her path that would have seriously harmed her during the Challenges last year. It had felt like it at the time, though, her heart pounding with every step, peeking around each corner to see what sort of spells she would need to use, paranoid that she was going to get lost. Of course, she'd been lost the moment she'd stepped into the maze, so getting more lost was hardly the problem. She'd gotten through relatively unscathed- minus the bruise on her nose where she'd blundered into an age line.
The Labyrinth Garden had been returned to normal, and although Lyla knew there were dangerous things inside, she also knew the areas to avoid. Essentially, it was like the Professor had told them-honking good, fangs bad. She'd spent much of her free time last year exploring the gardens, familiarizing herself with its twists and turns. She had no intention of wandering on today's lesson, though.
"That's Dittany, sir!" Lyla called out to Professor Xavier, pointing to a batch of silvery-green leaves with delicate pink flowers. Herbology was one of her favorite subjects, and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi was one of the only schoolbooks she read outside of studying.
A point for Crotalus was a bonus on top of the fun she was having. It was nice to get outside before the weather cooled off, and she was glad she'd dropped her robe and her bag off before they had started their tour. The sun was warm on her skin, and she knew it would have been stifling and sweaty if she had been wearing another layer. She checked Dittany off on her paper before moving aside to let the other students get a look.
"It's sort of a fun class today, isn't it?" she asked the student at her elbow, "It's like a treasure hunt."
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Lyla Holland
If you chat with your neighbor, does that make this a walkie-talkie?
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Leo Lyons
December 24, 2022 12:08 AM
Questions for the professor by Leo Lyons
Leo's first impression of Professor Xavier was that he was a cool kind of teacher that made X-Men references and was fine with kids not wearing their robes in not-quite-sweltering weather. He deposited his bag inside the greenhouse, which was indeed far too hot to work in, pulling out a notepad and a quill. Thinking again, he tucked a second notepad and quill in his pocket for when Donovan inevitably asked to borrow one. His friend was smart, but being prepared was not his modus operandi.Striking out on the expedition with his class, Leo noticed that despite being in the middle of Arizona, the garden was lush and green. He heard a couple of students call out different plants that he wasn't familiar with. He marked them down on his paper, declining to take notes since he already had decent pictures of each plant.
Plants were interesting and all, but Leo had other questions, that he wasn't entirely certain that Professor Xavier could answer.
"Professor, how often does it rain here? Everything seems to be growing abnormally well for a desert. What sort of weather charms are there?"
He knew there had to be charms for the gardens to grow the way they were; his father had been doing something similar for their farming community pretty much since the Lyons' had moved in, ushering in a prosperous harvest after a couple of years of drought. Luckily for the Statute of Secrecy, nobody had put together that Herbert Lyons doing complicated spells was behind the boom in the soybean crops. Leo was curious if Sonora used the same spells as his father, and whether someone had to recast the charms on a regular basis, or if someone was just in charge of making it rain whenever they felt like it.
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Leo Lyons
Questions for the professor
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Nausicaa Scapetello
December 24, 2022 10:01 AM
That's lovely. by Nausicaa Scapetello
Nausicaa steeled herself against the impending nonsense that was 'herbology'. In her opinion, this was one of the most useless classes. It was also one of the dirtiest. The only redeeming aspect was that it was ridiculously easy and gave her more time to focus on the more proper and difficult classes without hurting her academic record.The professor was waiting for them outside. Thank Merlin the man had at least that much sense. She didn't care to try and imagine how hot it must be inside the greenhouse. Fortunately she wasn't early so she did not need to wait around long before he started.
Nausicaa mostly ignored his opening introduction. She did her best to look bored and check her nails. Being in a class with first years was annoying. However, she did still need to recruit minions and that would be harder next year. When he finally got around to the day's lesson, she was terribly conflicted. A good part of her wanted to be insulted by the inane task of following him around the garden and pointing out plants they had studied all last year. The rest of her was delighted at the fact that she wouldn't need to touch dirt today, or find someone else to do it for her.
"Present," Nausicaa responded to the roll call without any enthusiasm. As if she would lower her standards to say something as colloquial as 'here'. Once everyone was accounted for, the professor's next statement raised him up in her opinion. Not much, but he could use all he could get. He was allowing them to shed the horrific school robes again! It wasn't the first time he had done so, but last year it had only been at the beginning and end of the year.
Nausicaa quickly removed her robe, and neatly placed her things inside where they shouldn't get more dirty than absolutely necessary. Then she took a moment to fix her poor dress that had been mercilessly smothered beneath that horrid green mass of fabric. It was a dark purple and cut in the latest fashion. The short, gauzy sleeves made it much better for this sort of weather than the school's required attire.
She would have preferred to stay in the back of the group, but she was a leader not a follower. The idea of taking notes on this subject matter was beyond absurd. They had learned this last year, did he assume she had just forgotten all of it over the summer? What sort of dunce would allow that to happen? She acknowledged that perhaps it was the first time some of the first years were hearing it, but then why not allow them to go on this 'nature walk' while those that didn't need it went to the library to do something useful? So to make it at least appear that she was participating, she had her notebook out and was writing in it whenever the professor stopped to talk about things she already knew about. A careful observer might notice that she was actually working on their charms assignment from earlier in the day.
At one point Nausicaa's ever alert and keen eye, which was only paying half-attention to the area around her, spotted one of the plants before anyone else and she felt the necessity of pointing it out. "There are some Puffapods." The walk was not entirely unpleasant, but it would have been nice to have been warned. Her long dark skirts were getting a bit warm and a nice wide brimmed hat for the sun would have been nice. She noticed that the professor had his. Apparently they were meant to suffer.
One of the first year boys had the audacity to speak to her, as if she were some commoner. "Quite." She replied back a bit stiffly. She knew that alienating a potential asset wasn't the smart move, so she forced a return smile. "You seem to have a good eye for these plants," she complimented blithely. Then moved on to more important matters, was he someone worthwhile? "I'm Nausicaa Scapetello of the Ravenna Scapetellos." He had been the first one called and to respond to the roll call, so she knew his name. But what else might he tell her about himself?
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Nausicaa Scapetello
That's lovely.
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Ida Stanford
December 24, 2022 10:23 AM
Plants, got it. by Ida Stanford
Ida had seen the Quidditch sign-up sheet at breakfast, and she was on the fence about joining the team. Well, at least trying out anyway. She was not a big Quidditch fan for the sake of the sport, but she also wasn't against sports in general to help get exercise and to stay in shape. One should always try to be in peak physical form, just in case it was needed at any moment. If there was one thing she had learned from her parent's jobs, it was that danger and evil lurked potentially anywhere. You needed to be ready to combat it all the time. She figured she may talk to some of her classmates and see what they thought of the sport.There had been a few classes and a few opportunities to talk about it and she still hadn't entirely decided, but was leaning towards signing up. She showed up for Herbology and responded in a clear voice, "Here!" when her name was called, and collected the handout. The professor seemed like a nice man, but then he gave her a conflicting decision to make. To the best of her knowledge, the rule was to wear their school robes at classes. Yet here was a professor saying that they didn't have to. Was it a test of some sort? A quick glance around revealed that some of her classmates were taking his offer, and it was a tempting one. It was warm out and her light blouse and knee-length skirt would feel much better than the robe. Was it breaking a rule if the professor said it was okay?
With only moments to decide, she panicked and kept her robe. She knew this was okay, he had said they could keep it, and that was the school rule. Her bag she did stash in the greenhouse, mainly because that was also alright, she didn't want to carry that around the gardens, and she wanted a look into the greenhouse itself. It was really warm in there.
By the time she was done storing her bag after pulling her notebook and quill, she was at the back of the group. That was okay as well, she could still hear the professor. She probably wouldn't earn many points for her house by spotting things first, but it was possible that she'd see something everyone else missed.
After walking for a few minutes she was beginning to regret the decision to keep the robe. It was really quite warm out. Still, she would manage, it was fine. Ida took notes as they walked and even had a small map of the gardens in the works. "There are a lot of different kinds of plants here, aren't there?" She causally asked one of her classmates that happened to be near her. "What did he say that one was?" The professor had just started talking about another one and she'd missed it's name.
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Ida Stanford
Plants, got it.
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Donovan Peters
December 24, 2022 10:31 PM
Nailed it!...sort of. by Donovan Peters
Donovan was sweating before he even reached the greenhouse for Herbology lessons. He didn't think twice about leaving his robes behind, along with his bag. Looking over the list of plants, it seemed simple enough. Most of the examples looked differently from each other, so there probably wouldn't be too many mix-ups or wrong answers.His class list was full of strange things that he'd never really thought about before. Defense Against the Dark Arts? Why were they teaching a bunch of kids defensive spells? Did wizardkind need to defend themselves on a regular basis? Herbology, which was sort of like farming- the kind Leo's family did, with the plants, not the kind Donovan's family did, with the dairy cows- combined with wilderness survival foraging, from what he'd seen so far. The comment about fanged geraniums did catch Donovan's attention, though, and he wondered whether wizardkind were supposed to be defending themselves against other wizards, or just highly aggressive plants?
As he thought, he drifted to the rear of the pack. Leo was up ahead, trying to talk to the professor as he was teaching. It occurred to Donovan, while scanning across the other students taking notes, that he'd forgotten a pen. Leo was too far up to ask, and besides, he didn't want to get the reputation in front of the professor as a kid who forgets things, so he turned to the girl at his side to see if she had a spare.
Before he could ask, she spoke first.
"Oh," he replied, "I guess so; I haven't seen any of these ones before." Donovan thought hard to remember the name of the plant that she was pointing to. It was a sort of tall plant with long bright green leaves.
"I'm Donovan, by the way. That's flaxseed...or flummoxweed...or something like that." He consulted his paper, matching the picture to the vegetation in question.
"Fluxweed," he said, pointing it out on the sheet, "Say, do you have an extra pen? I left mine in my bag."
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Donovan Peters
Nailed it!...sort of.
1569
0
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Quillan Arcadius
December 26, 2022 6:11 PM
It is by Quillan Arcadius
His neighbour turned out to be one of his fellow Aladrens. Quillan had noticed her already, both because they were housemates and also because she was very pretty. He had an academic understanding of the fact that girls were a thing he would take an interest in, and he could see they were pretty in the same way paintings were, which he confused for understanding what it was that grown-up people must feel that compelled them to get married. He therefore felt rather good about the fact that his class for the day involved walking an attractive young lady through the gardens, even if it was with everyone else along. He was also keen to talk to girls because they were, in his experience, gentler and kinder than boys, and whilst he wanted to be friends with Alexander, Nicholas and Desmond, that kind of friendship involved joining Quidditch together for the sportsmanship and beating each other at chess. He wasn’t convinced it would involve much caring about each other’s feelings, but girls were naturally nurturing and one could have a very different sort of interaction with them.“Thank you,” he smiled, when she complimented him. “As do you,” he added, as she had also pointed out one of the items on the worksheet. He hadn’t recognised her name during roll call, but she reintroduced herself with the format that indicated she was society, and the accent and the unfamiliarity of the place she listed offered an explanation as to why he didn’t know it. Maybe she was… Spanish? Or Spanish-speaking—there were a number of countries with that as their dominant language nearby. Still, he wasn’t going to guess. He tried to make a mental note of the place name, though who knew whether he’d be able to spell it accurately enough to look it up. It would probably be easier to watch her for further clues.
“Quillan Arcadius of the Illinois Aracdiuses,” he replied, tilting his head in what would have to pass for a bow as they were walking. “You’re in your second year?” he observed. “How did you find the first?”
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Quillan Arcadius
It is
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Ida Stanford
December 27, 2022 11:17 AM
Sort of? by Ida Stanford
"I'm Ida," She responded quickly to his introduction. She had completely forgotten to introduce herself first. That was terrible manners of her, but Donovan didn't seem to mind. That was... good, she guessed. It made the interaction a bit more relaxed, but if he didn't care much for formalities and the proper ways of doing things... well he had gotten sorted into Pecari. That didn't stop her from doing her best to adhere to the proper protocols. In his defense, he at least hadn't missed what the professor had said like she had.Ida marked off the Fluxweed on her sheet and started to jot down some of the notes the professor had mentioned. "Thank-you." She was interrupted before she had gotten very far at all by Donovan. "A pen?" she reflexively asked in return. She didn't want to sound stupid, but she hadn't heard of a 'pen' before. Analysis time, Ida tried to figure it out quickly. He'd said it like it was a fairly common item that she might have upon her, despite leaving her bag in the greenhouse, because he'd left his in his bag. It was something he'd need at the moment. The only things they needed right now were the worksheet that the professor had given them, a quill to take notes with and being able to listen to the professor and not loose him in the garden.
Glancing at Donovan, she saw that he wasn't writing anything down with his quill. Which she also did not see with him anywhere. A quill would make sense, but... oh! Maybe he was from a Muggle home and a 'pen' was a Muggle version of a quill! Muggle things had not been a subject that Aunt Lucy had taught her growing up, so that had to be it! He needed something to write with, and that led to another very minor dilemma.
Ida had grabbed a spare quill from her bag, because it was always good to be prepared just in case something happened. If she did lend it to Donovan and something did happen to hers, she wouldn't have a back-up any more. However, the need to keep everyone able to function and participate was stronger than her worries. She pulled her spare quill from the pocket of her still very hot robes and offered it to him, "I don't have a pen, but I have a quill you could borrow. Will that work?" She really hoped she had deduced the problem correctly.
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Ida Stanford
Sort of?
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Nausicaa Scapetello
December 27, 2022 11:49 AM
Wonderful by Nausicaa Scapetello
Nausicaa gave Quillan a small 'I acknowledge your statement' nod and smile, that came from the colder end of 'friendly' on it's way towards 'icy'. Somewhere in the response was the additional, unspoken question, 'Is that the best you can do?' So far Nausicaa was unimpressed with this Quillan. If he had been looking to return a compliment of whatever quality to the one she had given, reflecting it back with 'you too' was not her idea of a job well done. He would need to do better than that if he wanted to gain her favor, a lot better.She did return his head tilt/bow with a slightly better acknowledgement than she had done with his 'compliment'. In her study of 'proper' American families (as much as the term 'proper' can be applied to anyone coming from the Americas), the Arcadiuses had shown up, as most of them had. It didn't really matter, but at least they, along with some of the others, actually tried to be respectable. The boy might do for an acceptable minion.
However, after he asked a foolish question she wondered if he had been placed into the right house. She hadn't been at the orientation with him this year, and she hadn't be sorted along with him. Yet, she was here in the ridiculous 'beginners' class with what might as well have been a coloring page of flower. Of course she was in second year. She gave him just a hint of a scornful look as he transitioned into his second question. Perhaps he had just been using that first question to lead into the one he actually wanted answered. For now she would assume that was so and her face quickly returned to her practiced neutral expression while she thought about how to answer.
Many words came to her mind, few of them she wanted to say in earshot of the professor. Perhaps she could use this as an opportunity though if he was listening. "To be perfectly honest, it was a bit dull. Most of the material we learned, I had already learned from my tutor before starting here." She should be a bit careful though, "The actual practical practice in most classes was beneficial as it had only been theory at home." Because actually practicing magic before being old enough and in school would have been wrong and illegal. Something that never could have happened. Nope. This class was the exception for 'practical work being nice'. "Often in these classes the second years have slightly different and harder tasks along the same lines as the first years. I hope that is true again this year." Not that it was today in this class.
"Are there any particular classes or activities you are looking forward to here?" That may get her some more information from him. Anything could be useful.
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Nausicaa Scapetello
Wonderful
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Quillan Arcadius
December 27, 2022 6:37 PM
I'm not convinced you mean that by Quillan Arcadius
As they conversed, several small expressions flittered over Nausicaa’s face. She smiled without using her eyes. She almost scowled. Quillan reviewed the conversation, not finding anything he had said so far as being possibly offensive. Perhaps she took time to warm to people. Perhaps the sun was bothering her eyes… Still, he was reminded of the way his mother talked about society parties. Of course, she didn’t say anything outright, but you could see it in her eyes or Well, when they went to get dessert from the buffet, her body language said it all! He had never been able to quite imagine before how one could help oneself to dessert in a passive aggressive way that allowed a transgressor to know they had fallen from favour. He had thought that his mother might be exaggerating. Now, watching Nausicaa’s face, he could start to imagine it.Still, it could have been the sun. He had no reason to think his manners weren’t up to scratch, and they were housemates, so it would do well to continue making an effort. And, much like the snubbings over coffee his mother had described, it was nothing he could call out without seeming petty or unreasonable. She had done nothing to push him out of the interaction, which meant it was rude to leave. He considered it like a game of chess… Sometimes, you could figure out your opponent’s agenda. Sometimes, you couldn’t. There were basics he could do, like making sure all his pieces were safe, seeing whether she was making forcing moves or in a position to threaten or capture… Or, equally, whether she could perceive any of the moves he’d made as doing so, leading to her defending in the way she was. It was a lot easier to analyse in chess, where that was clearly the purpose… In conversation, he supposed there were double meanings, trick questions—the types where regardless of your answer you landed in hot water—but he couldn’t see any of those in what either of them had said so far. Although, as her answer dived a little deeper than the basic pleasantries, he wondered if she might have seen it that way… It was always complicated to criticise, and she took a risk in doing so.
“That’s interesting to know, thank you,” he stated, regarding the class information. Finding himself repeating things he already knew didn’t sound like the worst… At least, not whilst he was getting his footing under him with new teachers and how they did things here. It would be a relief if he found he already knew a lot of the background information. Though, as an Aladren, he would rather die a painful death than admit these things, especially with someone who already seemed to be weighing his every word and finding them wanting. “My own curriculum focussed a lot on history, which as I understand it, isn’t taught here—other than how it comes up in the theory of each branch of magic. I did magical theory too, of course, and a lot of the background information is just… generally familiar from life,” he gestured vaguely at their worksheet. It wasn’t his first experience seeing a puffapod. He hadn’t considered that it might be some people’s—he had known that, academically, but it was odd to think about all this being brand new. He supposed that was why they were going slowly. “Do they ever split classes in other ways?” he asked, wondering if students with a magical background were ever given more advanced tasks, but not wanting to say something quite so direct and vulgar out loud.
“I think I’ll try to get a round of classes in before I decide which ones I’m looking forward to. I think it depends a lot on the teacher and how they’re taught. Charms being with the head of Aladren bodes well—I imagine we’ll actually get into some of the deeper stuff. I’m hoping for debating and chess in my free time. I’ve heard there’s a club for the former, and I already found another player for the latter in my year group. How about you?”
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Quillan Arcadius
I'm not convinced you mean that
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Donovan Peters
December 28, 2022 12:27 AM
Moving on... by Donovan Peters
Ida had hesitated for a moment before producing a feather from her robes. She offered it with a measure of uncertainty, but Donovan hardly noticed, his own faux pas revealed to him."Oh, yeah," Donovan said, tapping his forehead lightly, "I forgot they don't have pens here. That's going to take some getting used to. Thanks, though! I'll take good care of it!"
He marked off the plants he had seen so far with an 'x'. He was a notoriously bad note-taker, but in gratitude for the quill, he made an effort. Next to the Fluxweed he wrote down, Looks like a crooked corn stalk, but shorter. If there was anything a boy from Iowa knew, it was corn.
Turning back to his classmate, he wondered if she had grown up with all this magic stuff, or if she'd been dropped into it, too. Judging by the way she'd had to think about whether she had a pen or not, she'd grown up with it. Donovan was beginning to feel a bit behind his peers on that front. He was confident that spellcasting was pretty much a level playing field, since it was apparently illegal to practice before you went to school, but things like not knowing about common magical plants or potions felt like a setback. He shrugged it off, knowing that he would just have to work a little harder than everyone else. At least he was doing something interesting.
Not one to stew in a mopey silence, Donovan prodded Ida with conversation as the group got moving again.
"Do you know anyone who wants to sign up for Quidditch? There are almost enough players for two full teams, you know."
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Donovan Peters
Moving on...
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Ida Stanford
January 01, 2023 10:18 AM
Sounds fine to me by Ida Stanford
Excellent! Ida thought as Donovan accepted the quill. Her investigative and deductive skills were working! He began taking notes, and she took the opportunity to catch up on her own. It was a bit odd to think about that whole other world out there that had their own way of doing things. From the sounds of it, Donovan mostly had his experiences rooted in that strange muggle world. That made her wonder a bit how the muggle aurors ever got things figured out without spells and magic. That had to be difficult. She knew that Mom and Dad had a hard enough of a time while being able to use all manner of investigative spells.He then broke the silence with what she considered an odd question due to his previous one. Quidditch sign-ups? The game involved magical balls and flying around on brooms, things she was pretty certain that Muggles didn't do or have. That meant Donovan couldn't be all Muggle, probably some combination, and his family just preferred muggle pens to quills. That did make her wonder how exactly a pen worked and why might someone prefer it over a quill, and if there was a good reason, why weren't there more of them around?
Still, back to his actual question, "I was actually debating if I wanted to sign up myself," Ida admitted. "I'm not really crazy about the sport, but staying active and in shape is important. That seems to be one of the best ways to do that around here." She was well aware that some folks got really obsessively into the sport, and she supposed that was okay, but it certainly wasn't her. "Do you think I should?"
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Ida Stanford
Sounds fine to me
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Donovan Peters
January 07, 2023 2:12 AM
Excellent! by Donovan Peters
As the group moved along, Donovan walked next to Ida, marking off another plant- the honking daffodil that the professor had mentioned before. The quill pen was kind of scratchy and annoying, and the feathery bits kept trying to get in his face while he wrote. He'd have to ask his mom to send him some regular old ballpoint pens. Still, any barn in a storm, and he was grateful that Ida had both had a spare and was willing to lend it.The blond girl hadn't left her robes at the greenhouse, Donovan noticed. He wondered how she was staying cool enough- the group wasn't moving quickly, but they were moving constantly, shuffling through to see the different plants. She did say that she was thinking about joining the Quidditch team, though!
"Definitely," he answered her question, "I think it'll be fun, and besides, it's like the only gym class they offer," he added, in case that helped sway her opinion.
Donovan hadn't really thought about Quidditch as a way to stay in shape. Ida's shape was...fine, he guessed. She was as tall as he was- definitely not taller, and he wasn't standing up a little straighter to compensate, not even a smidge. She had a point about exercise, though. Quidditch was pretty much the only structured sport at Sonora, and a fraction of the students actually signed up to play. It was a weird difference from the mandatory physical education classes of the public school system.
"Or else we can start a running club, I guess. Like track and field."
Pausing, Donovan's eyebrows furrowed. He turned to face Ida.
"I guess I don't know if wizards have track and field. Do they? Like hurdles or shot put?"
Realizing these terms might not mean much to somebody unfamiliar with them, he clarified:
"My gym coach explained that track and field is basically running, jumping, and throwing. So hurdles are running, but you also have to jump over these...barrier things. Shot put is throwing a heavy ball as far as you can. That sort of thing." It sounded dumber the more he explained, comparing in his mind to riding on broomsticks playing soccer-ish in the air, so he trailed off. Wizards could throw a shot put a long way with a flick of their wand, why would they make a sport out of it?
"Anyway, it would be fun to have you on the Quidditch team. I've signed up, and my friend Leo. I hope you join."
OOC: Whatever height Ida is, Donovan is one inch shorter.
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Donovan Peters
Excellent!
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Charlotte O'Malley
January 08, 2023 6:45 PM
Sure! by Charlotte O'Malley
Charlotte was so excited and happy to be at Sonora. She was especially thrilled to have been sorted into Teppenpaw, where Piper was. Piper was the cousin whom she’d been the closest to growing up because everyone else was much older than her. Her brothers and Lavender were seventh years, her uncle Tommy was a sixth year and so was Ian, Gabriel and Theo had already graduated. So it made more sense for her to want to be with Piper than any of them as Stanley, Wally and Lavender were all going to graduate at the end of the year.Plus, it was Teppenpaw , so everyone was bound to be nice. Crotali were a mixed bag-even among the ones in her own family given how Dad and Wally and among others were or had been there but then there was Dad’s cousin Kelsey and that aunt that nobody talked about-and Charlotte doubted that she would enjoy being in Pecari or find much in common with them even though there were some that were perfectly nice. As for Aladren….well, aside from Tommy’s girlfriend and her distant cousin Gwendolyn, all the ones Charlotte knew had graduated and she didn’t even actually know Rosalynn really. There was also Wally’s girlfriend’s girlfriend-a totally confusing concept and a situation that she’d been told it was better not to get involved in–but Lavender did not seem to think she was a very nice person at all.
Charlotte really hoped that when she got older, she didn’t have the drama the older kids did with relationships and friendships. She definitely hoped that her boyfriend would not have another girlfriend-or boyfriend. She’d probably be able to accept if this hypothetical guy was attracted to both girls and boys but dating someone else in addition to her at the same time was a huge deal breaker.
The first year just hoped that Wally didn’t get hurt. Charlotte hated to see people she loved suffer. It was bad enough that he didn’t get Head Boy…er, Student. He would have been a good one. She was happy for Lavender though, who seemed elated. And she had nothing bad to say about Phillippe Delachene, mostly because she didn’t know much about him other than he was a Teppenpaw and his older sisters were friends with some of Charlotte’s relatives, Jasmine with Aunt Peyton and Anya with Theo. So, he was probably okay, more because of the Teppenpaw bit than the part that her relatives were friends with his sisters. After all, just because one sibling was cool didn’t mean the other ones were, such as her dad and the aunt they did not talk about.
Although, in her group of siblings, both of her older brothers were amazing and the best big brothers in the entire world, hence why, no offense to Phillipe, Wally should have gotten Head Student. Charlotte hoped that the new baby would be wonderful too. She was looking forward to being a big sister herself, and she was sure that her little brother or sister would be a nice person too. She and her parents and brothers and all the rest of the family would make sure of it. This baby would not be like that aunt or her biological grandmother, whom they also did not talk about. All Charlotte knew about them was that they were not good people. Otherwise, they could both be dead for all she knew.
Anyway, she was excited to be at Sonora, with her brothers and Piper and Lavender and Uncle Tommy and everyone. Although, the Teppenpaw was a tiny bit disappointed not to have a roommate but, honestly, roommates weren’t everything. Dad and Stanley didn’t have them and both of them had done fine. Mom hadn’t been close to hers at all and Wally’s roommate was better friends with Lavender than him. So, it would be okay. She could still make friends.
Now Charlotte found herself in Herbology. Not her favorite topic-she preferred Transfig of course, she might even become an animagus like her dad was, and maybe COMC because she liked to take care of things-but she still liked it okay and so far, Professor Xavier was probably her favorite teacher because he seemed like the nicest professor. And Headmaster Brockert kind of seemed like he was the scariest.
She walked along the path with her classmates, occasionally calling out a plant that she spotted. Charlotte generally was well versed in ones that were edible or potions ingredients, since she often cooked and baked with Aunt Peyton, and Mom was an amazing Potioneer.
Then the girl next to her spoke to her. “Yes!” Charlotte replied. “It’s honestly quite fun. I think Professor Xavier is my favorite professor so far. He’s so nice.” Maybe this girl could be her first non-related friend at Sonora. Her brothers had introduced her to theirs, and that was great, but she needed friends her own age too. “I’m Charlotte.” She thought for a moment. “O’Malley, of the Colorado O’Malleys.”
Honestly, she was never sure whether or not to give that introduction, and usually mirrored the greeting of the person she was talking to but this time she had introduced herself first and decided not to take a chance on offending someone if the person she was speaking to was someone considered “proper”. Her own family tended to be slightly more relaxed about things to the eternal chagrin of her dad’s cousin Kelsey. Who was decidedly Charlotte’s least favorite of her dad’s myriad of first cousins.
Also, she was admittedly not sure if she was supposed to say Boston O’Malleys or Colorado O’Malleys. After all, Grandpa Jeffrey’s family was from Boston, and his parents and grandparents were still there, operating a pub and a whisky distillery. Grandpa Jeffrey was in charge of the western division, out of Colorado, where Charlotte and her immediate family lived. However, there was obviously no disownment, so they had to be the same branch right?
Anyway, she gave the girl a friendly smile, which was hopefully going to be interpreted as Charlotte was going to be nice no matter what. Hopefully, the other girl would not get offended by her semi-”proper” introduction.
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Charlotte O'Malley
Sure!
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Lyla Holland
January 17, 2023 12:43 AM
Rambling in more ways than one by Lyla Holland
The student beside her turned out to be one of the new Tepps, a brunette girl with a bright smile. She introduced herself as a Colorado O'Malley, which Lyla was beginning to clue in was the way pureblood folks introduced themselves. It seemed like a mouthful to say it that way, and felt a bit overly formal, but she couldn't fault them for using the manners they were raised with. Lyla matched the girl's smile with her own and extended a friendly hand."I'm Lyla, Lyla Holland. I'm from Colorado, too."
Last year she might have worried about things like blood status, but after becoming friends with Samara and Gwendolyn, she was less concerned. Pureblooded wizards were still people, as were half-bloods and muggleborns and muggles. Lyla was much more concerned about whether people were kind or not than who their parents were.
"Professor Xavier is one of my favorites, too," she responded to the other part of Charlotte's reply, "He really cares about all the plants, and I think it's sweet. He's the advisor for the Gardening Club, as well."
Lyla marked off another plant as one of the other students called it out.
"You're a first year, right? How are you settling in?" she asked by way of conversation. She was awkward at this part, the getting-to-know-you before you actually became friends. She found small talk difficult, and was always running out of things to say. Hopefully Charlotte's reply would spark some inspiration in that arena, because walking the whole rest of the way in silence would be worse than even the most stilted of conversations.
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Lyla Holland
Rambling in more ways than one
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