Headmaster Brockert

December 26, 2014 4:07 PM
Another year, another feast. Mortimer still couldn't say he'd mastered looking anything close to pleasant and cheery, but he could at least claim that he was getting used to the Sonora routine. Plus, last year had gone so much more smoothly than the previous one. No mishaps, not to his knowledge. Whatever personal issues the students had going on their daily lives was none of his business. It wasn't his fault or his problem.

That said, there was one student Mortimer had a slight interest in this year, his great-nephew Owen-and even with him the Headmaster was not that interested in interfering or anything. Mortimer simply did not have time and fortunately, his nephew was bright enough to realize that Mortimer was not the warm and friendly type. Thankfully, Owen's mother knew that as well. He'd just gotten rid of his cousin's daughter and couldn't have been more glad to see the back of that one, in part so he didn't have to deal with her mother anymore. Having to deal with Annabeth's over-protectiveness had the potential to be even worse, given he had to deal with her more often than Pearl though. At least she had the capability to be rational, however and her husband, his nephew, was an excellent go between as he was even more so.

He rose from his place at the table "Welcome to Sonora for the new first years and welcome back for all older students. In just a minute, you first years will be receiving a goblet distributed by Deputy Headmistress Skies, in order to sort you into your houses. You will turn the color representing your house which are blue for Aladren, yellow for Teppenpaw, red for Crotalus, and brown for Pecari. Afterwards, you may join your house table." Really, Mortimer was pretty sure he'd said the exact same words last year. With mildest curiosity, he watched for Owen's turn before continuing on the endless repetitive rituals.

"Would Anthony Carey and Wendy Canterbury please come to the front of the room to recieve your Head Student badges? In addition, I would like to call Emrys Lucan, Portia Dobson, Eleanor Vandenburg, and Ji-Eun Park up to recieve their prefect badges."

As they returned to their places, Mortimer announced. "This year's Midsummer event will be the Fair, details will be announced later in this year. First years, do not leave the Hall until your Head of House calls for you. We will now sing the school song."

Sheets of music appeared in front of the students. This was pretty much the only time the school song was ever sung, and he would be shocked if even a graduating seventh year knew it by heart. He certainly didn't.


Every day we strive
Learning to survive
Life’s hardships and to solve its mystery.
Learning to defend
Our honour and our friends,
Flying high to meet our destiny
We will stand and face those who want to harm us.
We won’t let the world transfigure, jinx or charm us
I won’t fight alone, as long as you are with me.
Sonora be my home, my tutor and my spirit
Vasita quoque floeat; Even the desert blooms.


With that, the students were released to their meals and conversations and Mortimer didn't have to deal with this nonsense again until the Returning Feast after midterm.
Subthreads:
11 Headmaster Brockert Opening Feast 6 Headmaster Brockert 1 5

Julian Umland

January 25, 2015 2:35 PM
After she had bought her schoolbooks, term’s supply (she hoped) of make-up, and birthday presents for every member of her immediate family, Julian had used the very last of the money she had made at her summer job to buy herself a nice, at least by her standards, new dress and a pair of shoes to go with it. Both were fall looks - for the Feast, since it was just going to be covered up by her robes anyway, she had on a much cheaper short-sleeved, mottled-rose-color dress she’d gotten earlier in the summer for next to nothing at a yard sale because its original owner had apparently had a small mishap with a printer cartridge while wearing it, something Julian found a lot easier to rectify than said owner evidently had; it wasn't much, but Mom had, seeming surprised to see her dress-clad and with make-up on and her hair curled, said that she looked nice - but she was very pleased with them anyway. She had spent time in a few of the past few nights looking at them in her room after she thought everyone else was asleep, giddy over having spent actual money on something as stupid as heeled shoes with polka dots on them and hardly able to wait to see Charlie again and show off.

When she saw him enter the Cascade Hall, she smiled - her lips still felt funny when she smiled while wearing lipstick, like the lipstick was one of those clay facial masks which cracked off if the wearer moved at all, so she didn’t wear it often, but it was a special occasion - and lifted her hand, but to her surprise, he didn’t seem to be looking for her. Sometimes he sat with Wendy or someone, but it was traditional to sit with Houses at the Feast, which usually meant her. Maybe he was planning to chat with the first years; how easy being social seemed to be for him was one of the reasons she’d always thought he’d be a better prefect than she was, why she’d always thought she’d only gotten the badge because they had thought people wouldn’t accept someone as blatantly...individual as Charlie in a position of authority. He could have been as straight as she thought she was and still had issues just because people sometimes had a problem with guys doing stuff like wearing pink and nail polish.

People were so often just stupid. She wore at least the flesh-tone face make-up...stuff more days than not, now, even when also wearing t-shirts and jeans, because she felt better, more confident in dealing with people, when she had it on, so she saw no reason why Charlie shouldn’t do the same if he pleased, or a girl not wear it if she didn’t want to. It was no different than those beastly little brats back home making fun of John because of his bird obsession; she didn’t get it any more than the brats seemed to, either why John specifically had suddenly started finding that subject so interesting or why anyone would find it that interesting, but if make-up could start to make sense to her, then birds could make sense to people, too, and it was entirely each person’s own business what he or she did to forget just how long every day was and feeling guilty for not having the energy or resources to….

She bit her lip for a second, trying to suppress the useless indignation on her boys’ behalf, before remembering her lipstick and quickly stopping and reaching into the purse lodged awkwardly at her feet for a compact mirror to see if she had ruined it. Once she determined she hadn’t - goodness, she hated lipstick, it was such a bother - she glanced around her, wondering if it was too late to seek out Willow and Gemma. They, like the girls at home this summer, were not really her friends, but they were kind enough to tolerate her hovering at the periphery….

She looked around the Hall more generally as the Sorting started, and as she took in first the familiar sights and then the new people, she was momentarily overwhelmed by the sensation of being extraordinarily out of place.

All summer, she had felt separate from the others even while laughing with them or kissing them because she was a witch and that meant there was a massive part of her life that they could never understand. When she listened to her summer friend Lydia moan about her parents not letting her learn to drive, she had found herself thinking about all the different ways she had to travel anywhere in the country in seconds. When she went to youth events or complimented the clique leader on her dress, she remembered how the Cascade Hall had looked the night of the Midsummer Ball. At every turn, Calgary - seven-dollar dresses and plastic shoes instead of tailored gowns, cinderblocks and paper streamers instead of marble floors, everything in her neighborhood small and tinged a little grey - had reminded her of the way her little brothers used to play at being knights in the living room with foam swords and old towels for capes. She had enjoyed herself, just as she used to enjoy playing with John and Joe sometimes even after she outgrew playing pretend just for herself, but she’d always known there were other things out there. Now, she was back with those other things, and they were all just as bright and beautiful as she remembered - except for the part where she was now the one who was a little shabby by comparison. She’d had her one fairytale evening, but now her carriage had turned back into a pumpkin and the clothing purchases she’d taken such anxious pride in were things that she knew her roommates would probably deem suitable only for cutting up so the prairie elves could use them to clean mirrors or something. She could look, even talk a little, but the sheet of glass between her and a lot of the people around her was just as thick as it had been at home, making sure she could never really touch.

Her heart thumped uncomfortably hard in her chest, her lungs burned the slightest bit, and her face felt like it was radiating heat through the suddenly too-thin layer of foundation. She twisted a curl around her finger and pulled, unable to figure out what she was feeling or why.

Applause interrupted her thoughts and she hastily joined in the congratulations for the new prefects without a clue who her new companion in shepherding was. She bit her lip again, briefly interrupting her smile before she remembered herself. She was being silly - just as she had been far too often lately. Buying that stupid dress when the parties were over, for instance. She wasn’t even going to tell Charlie about that, she’d look like an idiot - or like a child, a little girl convinced her finger painting was a work of art and wanting to hear about it from her parent, too. She wasn’t even sure she’d ever wear the thing later in the month and into next, now. She picked up the sheet music which had just appeared in front of her and sang along with more enthusiasm than skill, smiling all the way through. Mom always said that the more one smiled, the more one felt like smiling.
16 Julian Umland Matters of perspective. 254 Julian Umland 0 5