Mondays are like that on Cascade Hall

Cooper Abramson

February 12, 2011 1:42 PM

Mondays are like that by Cooper Abramson

Cooper Abramson was in a more terrible mood than he usually was, which was unusual because the thirteen-year-old could never be said to be in a particularly good mood and it seemed mostly impossible to think that he could be even grumpier. But that morning, Cooper was hunched over his bowl of appropriately unhealthy cereal and sending death glares at each spoonful before the hapless little pieces of multi-coloured sugar entered his mouth and went on to their miserable and well-deserved deaths. It was a Monday, and Cooper hated Mondays. Worse, it was a Monday after a particularly nasty transformation and his foster-parents had to get his stupid dosage adjusted again because his stupid body kept growing. Cooper was already 5’4” and he was only thirteen, and apparently still growing.

This probably would have made the brown-haired boy happy, but the medics had been playing with his dosage of the Wolfsbane Potion for more than a year now, ever since the summer before his second year when his transformations began to get more physically painful and his foster-sister, Jessie, who was one of the two people that he let see him transformed. The other one was one of his foster-dads, and after Cooper had begrudgingly admitted that he would prefer not to be on his own for the entire time he was transformed, Aaron McKindy, also the Charms professor, started letting him stay in the sitting room attached to his office and the Charms classroom. Nobody went back into the sitting room and it had all the weird magical protections that the other room had, but Cooper liked it more. There were books and chairs and stuff and sometimes Aaron came in to work with him.

Not that Cooper would ever admit that he liked it, but he was gradually coming to realise that it was nice that Aaron didn’t care he turned into a wolf once a month. Jessie obviously didn’t care ‘cause she wanted to grow up and train dragons so she liked weird animals, and aside from his real sister Melody, Jessie was probably his favourite person ever. But Aaron was sort of okay, he supposed. He hated Garen though, because Garen had tried to steal Melody and now all his little sister ever did was talk about how great Garen was and that just made Cooper want to punch something.

Another spoonful of cereal was sent to its death and Cooper reached over to take a long drink of orange juice. He hated orange juice. But apparently his body needed lots of replenishment blah blah blah so he was supposed to eat healthy things. Jessie had explained it to him from her wizarding biology book and Cooper had said that was stupid, and then Jessie had bopped him and said all sorts of interesting words and told him to drink his damn juice. So Cooper drank his juice. When Jessie wasn’t there to see that he was listening to her.

The problem with transforming this time, though, had been the smell in the sitting room. There had been a smell. A smell that smelled like another person. There was never a smell in the room that was not-Aaron and not-Cooper, ever. But this time it was, and it wasn’t a person Cooper recognised and that scared him and made him angrier. Why had there been another person in his-space?

Angrily, the Aladren stabbed his spoon into his cereal, splashing drops of artificially-blue milk on the table, himself, and the person who had just made the mistake of sitting down across from him. Sullenly, Cooper glared. He wasn’t going to apologise. It was their stupid fault for sitting by him.

0 Cooper Abramson Mondays are like that 0 Cooper Abramson 1 5

Ayita Bly

February 15, 2011 5:46 PM

What is a <em>Monday</em>? by Ayita Bly

Sonora and the Outside world were very confusing to Ayita. She did not understand Magickal culture, but she did not know of this Muggle world, either. A Muggle was apparently an Outsider who did not possess Magick. Until learning of the term, she had not known there were Outsiders without magic!

It was very good to learn of her Earthen brothers--her father would have cringed at this name, preferring the title “enemies”--and of their natures, of how they spent time and how they decided who was in charge. In fact, the Pecari was very intrigued by the concept of a thing called an election. What was it? How did one decide to run?

The whole world was so dissimilar to hers. Her family had ruled for what seemed like forever. An election had never once occurred. The princess did not need to be chosen by the people. The people accepted her at birth because ruling was her birth right. Princess Ayita was the same. She would one day take the crown, whether she wanted to or not.

Truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. The brunette loathed the idea of just being groomed to take control, raised for not love but fear. Commoners were told, after all, that their rulers were divine. There would be fear in their eyes when she spoke, panic if she wanted to visit. Heir to the thrown, should she have had a choice, she might just refuse.

But did she have a choice? Not really. That being said, she really felt no reason to debate if she did want it or not, because if she discovered that the latter was true, it would only bring misery in replacement for the confusion. Suffering would be worse than not knowing, Ayita felt sure.

The Pecari first year ambled inside the Cascade Hall. (That was another thing that confused her. What was a Cascade, and why did it have its own Hall? Also, why was there water running down the walls?) She needed a place to sit, so she discovered a boy sitting alone. Shrugging, she sat at his table, directly across from him.

When the boy splashed some blue liquid on her, her initial instinct was to shrink backwards, a high-pitch scream escaping her. A moment later, the eleven year old discovered the blue liquid was not burning her tanned skin to the flesh, so it seemed to be all right.

Her grey eyes noticed that his were flagrantly angry. She recognized the look of rage from her father. “I am sorry,” she began weakly, standing up to go. “I needed a place to seat,” the Cherokee added, using seat as a verb where she should have said sit. Her edited English slipped up sometimes, the word misusage even more evident with her forcedly crisp pronunciations. “I thought this would be all right, but if you would like me to go, I will go.” Ayita did not want to anger anyone, too sensitive to stand it. I will never be an effective leader this way…

0 Ayita Bly What is a <em>Monday</em>? 0 Ayita Bly 0 5

Cooper

February 16, 2011 3:05 PM

....seriously? Why me? by Cooper

Annoyed that the girl decided it was a good idea to scream, Cooper continued to glare. He didn’t want to be dealing with some stupid little firstie, which this one obviously was. In fact, the only firstie he wanted to deal with was his sister and he didn’t even want to see Melody right now. She would want to know what was wrong with him, and then he would have to explain to her. His little sister was smart, and if she weren’t so damn nice all the time she probably would have been an Aladren. At least, that was what Cooper thought. And he was probably smarter than the stupid changing-colour potion was, anyway. Coop wasn’t really fond of potions that did things to peoples’ outsides; in his personal (and very important) opinion, potions were medicine.

“What the,” Cooper let off a very explicit string of cusswords that he had learned from Jessie, “do you think you’re doing? Learn to not scream in front of people for Merlin’s sake, will you? Some people need their ear drums to hear because some people have other people to talk to. The kind with brains. You know, not you?”

Shifting his body so his head was further ducked and his shoulders clearly indicated that he was Not Interested in having this conversation with idiot screaming firstie, Cooper continued to eat his cereal. An itch started on his head. He moved his left hand to scratch the area just behind his temple, vigorously rubbing the skin in order to relieve the irritation. Maybe he was allergic to firsties or something, that would be cool. It would be an excuse for them not to bother him, anyway. Cooper liked excuses like that. Hopefully Melody wasn’t best friends with this firstie or something—well, his sister was best friends with everyone but Cooper was talking actual best friends—because then she would be all sad that he had snapped at the kid.

If she found out. Warily, Cooper’s brown eyes moved from his cereal bowl to the space where the girl had been, hoping that she had found somewhere else to scream.

0 Cooper ....seriously? Why me? 0 Cooper 0 5

Ayita

February 20, 2011 11:05 AM

Do you not know, either? by Ayita

The boy seemed very upset about her scream. The brunette blinked, unsure what she had done wrong. Was screaming not an acceptable thing to do on the Outside? She was puzzled by the expression “for Merlin’s sake,” but she assumed that maybe Merlin was a swear word. Ayita’s father had told her that the Outsiders had awful, naughty words that they used that displayed their ignorance, and maybe this was one of them.

Again she blinked at his saying that she was not in possession of a brain. Ayita was very confused at this. If she did not have a brain, how was she alive? Also, how did he know? Could he see inside her head? Her father had not told her Outsiders had super powers! Or was it a super power? Could all humans see through solid objects? Maybe that was why her father expressed that she should not trust them!

“I am sorry for screaming,” Ayita sincerely began. “Is it not a way of expressing fear here? I did not know what that blue liquid was, and I was unsure if it would harm me.” Perfectly reasonable reasons, the grey-eyed Pecari thought.

“But I am very confused,” she continued despite the look that suggested he didn’t want to talk. The look was unusual to the princess, but she did not recognize it to mean “Leave Me Alone” or anything. The eleven year old was not used to the physical signs for emotions that these Outsiders seemed to thrive on. “If I do not have a brain, how am I alive? I thought it was a necessity to life?”

When the older boy began to rub his head, Ayita became concerned. Were his super powers backfiring? “Are you suffering?” she inquired peacefully, wanting to help as much as she could. Helping those in need was an important quality for a ruler. “Why are you rubbing your head? Is something wrong?”

She grew quiet for a moment, and then he looked back up at her. Uncomfortable under his gaze, she shifted her legs. “Um,” Ayita managed, “Hello again?” The whole situation was entirely puzzling.

0 Ayita Do you not know, either? 0 Ayita 0 5