Dustin, Florence, and Brett Newell
March 26, 2018 1:32 PM
An ordinary picnic. by Dustin, Florence, and Brett Newell
The Newells chose the water room for their picnic today. Dustin had been complaining lately (as often he did) that the Gardens were too full of allergens and things. Dustin had no real allergies, but it was difficult enough to get him to do anything outdoors, so Florence was willing to compromise. Brett was just as pleased with either, anyway; the Gardens were fun to get lost in, but here he could swim if he felt so inclined. And Dustin compromised on it because at least this outdoor environment was one subject to their approval. He could mentally request no pollinating plants be about.Even with their elder cousin Makenzie graduated, the siblings had continued this picnicking practice. It was good for a family to get together every so often and discuss things, even if it did frequently result in bickering among the boys. Okay, yes, sometimes she also bickered with Dustin, but he was just so bicker-able. Florence imagined that there would be more peace next year, when Dustin was replaced by Anastasia. She would miss her older brother - although she was uncertain that Brett shared those sentiments, really - but it would be a nice change to have their baby sister among them. Plus, it would leave Flo as the oldest and therefore the de facto leader, and, if truth be told, she was far better at it than Dustin, anyway.
“So,” the oldest asked, adjusting his posture on the blanket. It was soft and red, an excellent barrier between their bodies and the hard ground, almost enough to allow Dustin to forget that he was outdoors. Well, fake outdoors. It was complex. “Brett, have you thought about the ball yet? Do you know who you’ll be asking?”
Brett, still deep in the occasion’s meal, coughed and sputtered slightly, narrowly avoiding choking. “Well, I-I… I guess I’ve thought about it, maybe. But I don’t know.” He had been thinking about asking Eden Manger, his yearmate in Teppenpaw. He liked her long blonde hair, and she was really, really good at Quidditch, but he was pretty sure Dustin wouldn’t like that answer. Her family was apparently complicated, which, like, so was theirs, but Dustin was still dead set on making improvements to their family name, and Eden wouldn’t help that, and Dustin was a big ol’ dramatic crybaby hypocrite.
“I think I know who I may ask,” Florence chirped.
“What? No!” Dustin retorted immediately, turning his attention to his sister. “You don’t ask someone. A boy is supposed to ask you.” Last time around, he had been fool enough to allow a girl to ask him, and while admittedly it was the girl he was thinking about asking - or one of them, anyway - it hadn’t been an exceptionally good decision on his part, and he wanted better for the family and for himself this time around.
“But then what if nobody asks me?” Flo posed, folding her arms across her chest.
“Then you’re an embarrassment to me,” her older brother huffed. Brett kicked him, and he cried out weakly, more in surprise than pain as the seated position did not lend itself to much power. Dustin appeared completely affronted, but Flo did little to hide her giggle, smiling at her younger brother. Brett always had her back.
“If you’re such an expert,” Florence suggested a moment later, “Who are you taking to the ball? Have you decided on a date?”
Dustin scoffed. “Well, I… Well, no. I haven’t settled yet. A lot of options, factors to consider. You wouldn’t understand.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We all know girls are pretty much all the same to you, so just pick one and ask her so she can say no and get it over with.”
“Whomever I ask is not going to say no!” Dustin defended.
Neither he nor Florence noticed another person enter the room, but before they could presumably turn to leave upon noticing the room being occupied, Brett waved them over. “Hey, wanna come settle something for us?” he called. “We’re trying to decide if any girl would actually want to go out with my brother.”
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Dustin, Florence, and Brett Newell
An ordinary picnic.
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Ingrid Wolseithcrafte
April 08, 2018 10:37 AM
I was hoping for an ordinary swim by Ingrid Wolseithcrafte
Ingrid made her way to the MARS water room. She liked to alternate her climbing sessions with swims. Swimming was good exercise that worked all kinds of muscles, but it was also a chance to relax her achy limbs when she’d had a tough session on the pitch or the climbing wall the previous day. She had her swimsuit on under her clothes - it was a functional and boring black one that she wore for actual exercise swimming instead of fun swimming/hanging out in the lakes. She had shorts and a shirt on over the top, although the shirt had been buttoned lazily and the top of the swimming costume could be seen (as far as she was concerned that was no different to wearing it open over a t-shirt, and that was perfectly acceptable). Her hair was pulled back in a French braid.When she got to the MARS room, the sign said it was engaged, but she figured she’d stick her head in and see what kind of water arrangement the person using it had going on because she could happily swim in most things. However, when she opened the door, she found picnickers instead. She had to admit, that she didn’t really get that as a use of the rooms, and she actually found it kind of selfish. Not being blessed with a great patience for or appreciation of fine scenery, she couldn’t see the point of using a MARS room instead of the real outdoors.
She was going to give up on it as a bad lot when one of the picnickers waved her over. She knew the Newells by sight, even if she didn’t really personally know them, and knew that it would be rude to refuse. She made her way over, dropping the sports bag with her towel in it onto the rug beside them and sitting herself down. She raised her eyebrows playfully at the question asked. She was the youngest of five, and not exactly easily intimidated by a bit of banter.
“I think I should hear the cases before and against before I make up my mind,” she replied. As head girl, she needed a dance partner, although she’d been leaning towards Fabian Brockert, though that was more out of mutual convenience than any particularly strong preference for him.
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Ingrid Wolseithcrafte
I was hoping for an ordinary swim
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