Dennis Couch
June 06, 2011 1:44 AM
A New Arrival.... by Dennis Couch
It took Dennis a moment to realise they'd arrived.Actually, strictly speaking, that wasn't quite right. It took at least ten minutes, and even that wasn't certain because his watch had stopped working at some point on the journey and he hadn't realised until he noticed he was sitting alone in the wagon in the midst of some strange surroundings and had no idea of the time.
He took the time to peer around in mild curiousity until he turned back to the source of his vexation.
Dennis wasn't really the type to get vexed. Come what may, most things tended to roll off him like water off a duck's back. But then things weren't often as close to the bone as this was. He pulled his sunglasses off, revealing a pair of hazel eyes, adjusted his 59fifty home baseball cap (which served merely to dishevel his already unruly bright red mop of hair still further) and perched the sunglasses on top of the brim. With both hands free again he fished into the small hidden pocket his iPod was kept in and pulled the small gadget out.
The screen was blank, and no amount of button pressing was changing that. The battery had been recharged that morning, but it was the only thing he could think might be causing the problem. The ghost of a scowl passed over his face before he pushed the music player back into its pocket and jamed his earbuds back into his ears. Definitely nothing coming through. [i]Darn it[/i], his internal monologue cursed even as he decided it was probably time to get moving. There had to be a socket somewhere he could plug into to get some more juice. And until then - he closed his eyes, took a breath and visibly relaxed - he could always imagine the music he wanted to listen to.
He stood, swung his case onto his back and started the mammoth effort of lugging his unwieldy new school trunk out of the wagon, almost miraculously getting it to the ground before it occurred to him that no one else had taken their luggage. He glanced around again and paused to pull at the collar of his good (and brand new) red shirt (one of several bought because his parents were pretty sure that this boarding school situation would mean his clothes would need to be more the button up and dressy as opposed to casual and comfortable) before tugging up one end of the trunk by the handle again and continuing to drag it towards the school buildings, stopping at the first adult he came across and glancing up. He dropped the truck without concern and used his now free hand to reach up and tug one of the earbuds back out, to facilitate hearing.
"Ah, Dude? Got directions to the nearest power socket?"
Priorities were priorities.
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Dennis Couch
A New Arrival....
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Dana Smythe
June 06, 2011 10:38 AM
An old pro by Dana Smythe
In Dana's opinion the covered wagon rides were never something to look forward to. In her seventh year now she'd finaly got the hang of taking some stomach-settling draught with her, so while she didn't exactly enjoy the journey it no longer made her feel nauseous. Once she disembarked at the journey's destination, she made sure to swallow down a gulp of the concoction before she even made her way inside. As soon as that had been accomplished, her progress was halted further as a younger student - she would guess a new first year - dropped his hold on the trunk he was carrying for some unfathomable reason, and asked her a question that was unfathomable."Directions to what, sorry?" Dana asked. She decided not to make comment at being called 'Dude'; the Pecari didn't want to put him off the school, although now she looked at him, this particular first year didn't seem intimidtaed in any fashion. He had been dragging his trunk - he must have missed the part where he didn't have to do that - and he had wires leading into his ears that Dana recognized as being Muggle only due to their absence from her own lifestyle.
"You don't need to take your own luggage, you know," she gestured towards his case. "The prairie elves will take care of that for you. You just need to get yourself to the feast so you can be sorted." She offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. She didn't pretend that she could remember what it was like to start Sonora as a first year (she had actually started twice, once in her first year, and then again when she returned from home-tutoring in her fourth year), nor did she assume the experience was the same for each new student. However, while she wasn't Prefect, Dana nevertheless felt a responsibility to take care of the new students, and this one obviously needed a little extra help.
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Dana Smythe
An old pro
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Dennis
June 07, 2011 12:58 AM
Is that what they call them? by Dennis
"Power point?" Dennis tried again, but it didn't look promising. "Where you plug things in to get power or recharge them or whatever? Nevermind." Again the ghost of a frown shadowed his features until disappearing again. There would be something, surely. Couldn't run a place like this without electricity. You'd need somewhere to run the computers from, and then - that might be the option. He still had his usb cable. "Computer lab? I just need to charge my iPod." And he could probably drop a quick email home while he was at it, to get a new watch.He wasn't so bothered about the luggage stuff she had to say, but figured it wouldn't do to make waves this soon into a new school. The trunk was ready to be abandoned without much of a care. Everything he really cared about was in his pockets or his case. He pushed it out of the way, so it was less likely to be a tripping hazard, and adjusted his case on his back once more, making a mental note to cut the tag from the inside of all his new shirts when he got half a chance.
He glanced up at the girl again. "There is time before that-" What had she said again? Something about a feast, and a sorting. "Sorting thing, right?" Not that he really cared that much, although some food would probably hit the spot soon. His stomach rumbled in agreement, and for the first time a crooked smile graced his face. "I'm sure I wouldn't need long in the lab," he added. Even 10 minutes would give it enough juice to last until he could go back after whatever the sorting was.
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Dennis
Is that what they call them?
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Dana
June 08, 2011 8:12 AM
It's what I call me. by Dana
The smaller student was saying lots of words that individually made sense, but when he strung them together they became nonsensical. The more he talked, the more the sixth year got confused, and consequently the closer she crept to the conclusion that he was talking about Muggle things. Dana knew a little bit about Muggles, but Sonora had stopped offering Muggle studies as a class once she'd become old enough to take the elective. She decided to deal with the easier part first - the part where she was going to get him to the sorting."Actually I don't think there would be time," she said, looking up at the tail-end of the students filing in towards Cascade. "All the first years need to be together now. You get sorted into your house for the start of the Opening Feast - it's starting pretty soon. Come on," she said, and began walking, hoping the first year would follow her. he had already abandoned his trunk, so there was hope he would co-operate. Where was Alison, anyway? this was completely her job as Pecari prefect. There was a reason Dana hadn't been given the position: she really wasn't very good at things like this.
"As for your..." what had he called it? She couldn't remember. There had been too much for her to concentrate on for her to focus properly. "Your appliance," she substituted, "it probably won't work here. The magic interfers with... things." She frowned at her inability to explain things properly. In all honesty she probably wouldn't have taken Muggle Studies even if it had been an option, but right now she could appreicate the importance of a little basic knowledge. "You can always ask your Head of House after the feast," she suggested, because she really didn't know whether his object would function or not, being as uniformed as she was, "but you need to be sorted to know which House you're in first."
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Dana
It's what I call me.
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