Headmaster Brockert
July 13, 2014 4:45 PM
Bonfire! by Headmaster Brockert
His first year as Headmaster had not been easy, and while Mortimer wasn't necessarily all about doing things the easy way, this had been completely, unreasonably difficult through no fault of his own. It was that blasted Charms facility. They had basically made everyone's life miserable, and he hoped they paid dearly. They might have apologized but he had some ideas of where they could stick their bloody apology.It had made Mortimer's work load increase, getting matters with that sorted out and while Selina had helped him tremedously, she couldn't do everything either. They'd been buried in paper work regarding the incident. Therefore, the staff hadn't been able to get done the stuff that had to be done, and normally would have been. It irked him a great deal. Mortimer supposed he could have asked the rest of the staff to help more, but he'd been embarrassed enough to have to ask Selina.
The day had started with a "field day". Initially, the Headmaster had not known what that meant and his nephew, Toby, whose idea it was, had had to explain it to him. Apparently, it was a day when students would play silly games. How quaint. Still, it was a miracle that they'd come up with anything at all, besides the giant fire and camping out on the Pitch. Mortimer supposed he was glad it was good for something yet, since Quidditch no longer seemed to be as big a deal at Sonora as it once had been.
There were five events that students could participate in. A sack race, where students jumped around in sacks. An egg and broom race, which was a relay race where teams of four students, flew around passing an egg back and forth. A hot dog eating contest, which allowed students to engage in gluttony and jam as many hot dogs down their gullets in a certain amount of time. If they threw up before time was over, they were out. A three-legged race, where apparently, two students would be tied together and...race. Finally, students could enter in a scavenger hunt. This event took place in the Labyrinth Gardens on the grounds that it would be more interesting than running around the pitch. House points and prizes would be awarded. Mortimer had to admit, to himself only of course, that watching these things might be kind of fun. None of the events were mandatory, and students who didn't want to participate could spend the time watching or talking to each other.
Once night had fallen, Mortimer addressed the crowd, giving them the basic information, as he had earlier in the day. Two speeches in one day did not thrill him. Obviously, he wasn't afraid of public speaking, he just found it a more irritating part of his job. He had to be...pleasant and relatively cheerful. Things that went against his basic nature. Eventually, Mortimer would probably accquire better acting skills, but not right now. He did, however, manage to make his face more neutral and less...sarcastic and borderline sinister looking. The Headmaster even managed to force a smile, probably, in part, because such a difficult year was over.
"Welcome to tonight's annual Midsummer Event, the bonfire. I hope you all had fun." He hoped that didn't come across sarcastic, Mortimer actually somewhat meant it. Happy students were a good thing. Especially as the next part would probably not make some people too happy. "I regret to inform you that due to previously unforseen circumstances, we are unable to announce the Head Students and House point winners at this time." Bloody experimental charms facility, he resented it wholeheartedly, and hoped the incompetent institution was closed down. "In part though, the house points have not been totalled yet as we are still going through today's events and awarding points from that. Head Students will be announced at next year's Opening Feast" This part was true, and hopefully at least the smarter and more logical students would be able to realize it. "Dinner will be served shortly." It would be a buffet style event, which would include organic, gluten-free, vegetarian and vegan food-apparently a new policy- as well as the normal yet not fancy fare. One food however, would not be served. Hot dogs. He figured students would have had enough of them. "Then the bonfire will begin. One more thing, I would like to congratulate the seventh and fifth years on successful completion of their exams. Go enjoy your meals" With that, Mortimer released the students to their meals and conversations, while yearbooks were handed out.
OOC-I apologize profusely for the lack of House winners and Head Student winners. While Morimer blames the earlier plot IC, I do not and accept full responsibility. House points will be awarded to all those participating in events, much like in classes. The yearbook link will be provided on the OOC board this week, by Amelle who has kindly continued to manage this. Please thank her, once the link goes up, as she did this on her own and most likely spent a good deal of time on it. Please do not burn yourself, as the staff would be watching and prevent any catastrophic events, as well as serious injuries during the events. The scavenger hunt will be posted in the Gardens. Have fun!
Subthreads: Hot Dog Eating Contest. (nm) by Headmaster Brockert with Aria Yale
Egg and Broom Race (nm) by Headmaster Brockert
Sack Race (nm) by Headmaster Brockert with Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw, Clark Dill, Aladren
Three Legged Race (nm) by Headmaster Brockert with Wendy Canterbury, Rupert Princeton, Wendy
Fire (nm) by Headmaster Brockert with Waverly Canterbury, Henny B-F-R, Effie Arbon, Charlotte Spencer, Arabella Brockert
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Headmaster Brockert
Bonfire!
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Headmaster Brockert
July 13, 2014 4:47 PM
Sack Race (nm) by Headmaster Brockert
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Sack Race (nm)
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Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw
July 20, 2014 10:47 AM
I hear Hessian's in this year... by Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw
The second half of the year had been a relatively pleasant whirl of not much, as far as Charlie was concerned. Sure, the teachers were piling the work on them, and there was a lot of catching up to do but he didn't have any important exams, so he'd tried not to let the crazy pace affect him too much. It was also a relief to have the teachers back. He hadn't really been responsible for anything during the first term, but the situation with Leo had made him uneasy and, overall, he just liked law and order. Before he knew it, it was the midsummer event, which was usually fun. This year's would be a little bittersweet as it was Henny's last one, though it was more likely the wagon journey tomorrow that would bring that to his attention, or perhaps the one back after summer without her. He planned to leave her to enjoy the bonfire with her friends.Charlie was not an inherently sporty person. He could get a decent burst of speed on if he wanted to run but... well, he rarely wanted to. It also didn't help that at his previous school all of the boys who'd played sports at lunchtime had been the kind who picked on him, so he'd tended to hang out around the periphery of the playground whispering and swapping secrets with the girls. Still, the races on offer today did not sound overly serious, and would definitely be more fun to be involved in than merely sitting at the side watching, so he signed up for the sack race.
When his heat was called, he went to the line. There was one distinct sartorial disadvantage to this race, he thought, as he eyed up his less than stylish mode of transport. He glanced left and right at his peers stepping into the ugly things and pulling them up around their legs....
And now, on the catwalk, we have the new collection from Le Sac, he thought to himself, as he placed his elegantly shod feet into the bag, The predominant fabric is Hessian, a controversial choice, as are the bold, mainly shapeless designs. Some are calling it an exciting innovation, others are saying that... well, it looks like a bunch of people in potato sacks.
He snapped back to reality as the whistle blew, gripping the sack firmly and jumping forward with enthusiasm and gusto for at least the first few paces. Then he remembered how tiring sack races were, and how much effort was required to move oneself what seemed like the most pathetic of distances. The track, which had previously looked relatively short, seemed to stretch out before him and his little hops seemed to move him barely any closer to the finish line.
He pushed on, finding it was easier once he got into a rhythm instead of just manically going for it as hard as he could, and eventually huffed and puffed his way over the finishing line. Now added to his unflattering attire was, in all likelihood, a bright red face. He could feel the sweat along his browline. Ugh, racing might be 'fun' but it was a decidedly unattractive endeavour, he thought, as he gratefully stepped out of his sack. He didn't think he'd shamed himself terribly – probably somewhere around the middle of his group, but probably just below the cut off for going forwards. It wasn't a loss that hurt him terribly.
“That's probably enough looking like an idiot for one day,” he commented to his neighbour. “Well, for me anyway. Are you going in for anything else?”
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I hear Hessian's in this year...
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Clark Dill, Aladren
July 20, 2014 9:47 PM
I don't know what that word means... by Clark Dill, Aladren
The year had come to a close. Clark had gotten into a groove once the school was no longer threatened by alien kidnappers seeking to steal him back to their planet. Sure, the story was that it was some kind of Charms facility or some such, and the professors were stuck in some kind of detention area, but that was clearly just a cover story, and not even a very good one at that. Obviously, the professors had been busy fighting, and eventually driving away the alien menace.Dad almost hadn't wanted him to come home for midterm, since Clark's identity had been discovered, and the teachers clearly had the ability to drive the extraterrestrials away, but nothing had happened over the Christmas break, so Dad hesitantly concluded that the aliens really had been truly defeated and Clark was safe, both at the school and at home. It was a travesty, really, that the people able to do such a thing had been given such a bad rap that everyone else thought they'd just been stuck in a little room for months on end, and unable to free themselves from such a place while a bunch of students ran the school in their absence.
Of course, those students were to be commended as well. Clark was pretty sure - but not by any means certain - that the Heads and prefects were unaware of the alien threat, but that they also hadn't had any real idea of what was going on so maybe alien invasion was one of their theories. Despite that uncertainty and without any adult supervision, they had maintained their cool and kept the school running and Clark felt, now that he'd had half a year with real teachers for comparison, that they'd done a pretty decent job of keeping the younger students' education going even under adverse circumstances.
But now it was the end of the year, with only a midsummer bonfire left between his first year at Sonora and summer vacation. The midsummer event cycle had been revived at the school while Dad had attended, so the bonfire itself wasn't a surprise, but the field day events planned throughout the day were.
Clark was twelve - or, at least, he had been legally twelve since last November, though that was mostly guesswork since Dad wasn't sure when his actual birthday really was, as he'd been born on a spaceship while his mom was abducted - so he had a slight disadvantage competing against the other students at the school who could be up to eighteen years old now. This had definitely kept him from the hot-dog eating contest because (a) his belly and appetite were not nearly as big as a teenager's and (b) eating too much made him sick which didn't sound like a fun way to spend the afternoon at all.
The other events were not quite as intimidating to go up against the older students in, but he figured his best chance was in the sack race. He was tall for his age, so he had a pretty decent jump speed, and he was still only twelve, so he didn't have as much dignity to get worked up over as some hormone beholden teenagers might. Plus, he had really like the sack races he'd run in elementary school, so he even had a little bit of practice and familiarity which he didn't think some of the purebloods had, which was a nice switch around for the muggleborns, he thought. It wasn't often at Sonora that they had the advantage.
Anyway, the blond boy lined up with the other sack contenders at the start line of his heat. He put one foot into the sack, then the other, pulling it up to his waist without the slightest twinge of self-doubt or embarrassment. His black t-shirt was still proudly visible above the sack, the thinkgeek design perfectly legible (in honor of the bonfire, he had chosen the one that read "Non-flammable? Challenge Accepted"; he also favored this one for potions class, though he wouldn't have dared if it wasn't normally hidden under his school robes). He gave a couple of experimental hops in place to get used to it, then leaned forward, ready for the race to begin.
Someone shouted "Go!" and he was off. Clark held the sack tight around his waist so it didn't fall off, gripping it at his navel as he surged forward, hopping at a good rate toward the finish line. He had a twelve year old's energy and an efficient jumping angle that brought him high enough to avoid ground friction but far enough horizontally to cover distance, and he whooped in excited joy as he hopped past a couple older students along the way.
Just before the finish, though, he got a little too enthusiastic and tripped over himself and he did a heels over head roll thing across the line that left him disoriented and dizzy so he wasn't quite sure if he won the heat or not, but he'd done well enough that he was pretty sure he'd advance if that tumble hadn't disqualified him for not hopping across the finish line.
He was still trying to figure out how to get up off his butt - the world was slowing down but still spinning, and his sack was wrapped tightly around him making it hard to move nevermind stand - when an older student asked if he was done looking like an idiot yet.
He grinned up at the guy, the world finally steadying now, "I'm not done yet," he disagreed, "Gotta at least stand first, then see if I made it to the next round, and, if not, maybe try the three legged race. Mind giving me a hand?" He held his own right hand up so the older boy could aid him by helping to pull him up to his feet again. Once he regained a vertical position, he should be able to just untwist the sack to get free of it.
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Clark Dill, Aladren
I don't know what that word means...
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