Headmaster Brockert

August 08, 2015 12:49 PM
Another year, another returning feast. In theory, these were things Mortimer liked. Returning to school, to an academic environment, to a job that made him feel significantly more poweful than he would have been otherwise- even though he was a Brockert, which inherently meant power, he was sure never to become Patriarch, more than just Uncle Clifford would have to die for that to happen and say whatever else you wanted to about Mortimer, he did not really wish for his distant relatives' death on a regular basis-and feasting, because well, Sonora had good food.

It was still monotonous. Maybe not quite as much as as the endless parties of the holiday season with their inane babble and sickening cheer but still. It was the same thing every year and even as creature of habit, Mortimer tended to get bored.

He stood to give his usual speech. Well, okay, one could hardly call it such, it was more of a greeting . Even though it wasn't at all in his nature to greet people.

"Welcome back. I hope you all had a good midterm." Okay, pretending to care was getting easier to convey. Idly, Mortimer wondered if Owen actually believed him. The second year should really know him better by now but then again, that kid was so trusting. He was certain that once his granddaughter Topaz got here, she'd see right through it. The four year old was one smart kid, likely too clever for her own good.

"Before we eat, I would just like to remind you all that any vandalism done to the school will be severely punished." He was none too pleased about what had been done to the school last term though Mortimer really couldn't come down on them for gossiping and spreading rumors and speculating about the graffiti. That was like punishing them for breathing. Let Selina deal with all those touchy-feely notions about respecting each other and whatnot. He was enough of a realist to know that wasn't going to happen, especially with teenagers.

He sat back down and the feast began.
Subthreads:
11 Headmaster Brockert Returning Feast 6 Headmaster Brockert 1 5


John Spencer

August 09, 2015 2:58 PM
Last term had been brilliant; his team had beat Adam's, he was getting better as a Chaser and he enjoyed his courses very much. But this term was going to be horrid. Jack's voice had gone from a pure, sweet tenor to a low growly sort. It was lower than his older brother's and Jack was frankly embarrassed by it. Whilst he wanted to talk and be his usual chatty self, he didn't want his peers to hear his vacillating vocal chords. It was mortifying. Gloomily he spooned soup into his mouth, wondering if a hot beverage would burn his throat enough for it to leap back into a high pitch or make it crisp and low forever. He didn't mind it either way, but for it to stay at one pitch, that was all he asked. Speaking in a hybrid pitch between a tenor and a baritone was infuriating. Growing up was stupid. Physical changes were stupid.

The Returning Feast wasn't stupid at least and Jack wanted to avoid speaking. People around here were friendly and seemed to start up conversations with just about everyone. Jack lowered his face a little more towards his soup. He'd been too embarrassed to ask Adam how he'd managed to survive this mortifying ordeal. In fact, he hardly remembered his brother going through puberty at all. Adam had always been somewhat tall - though not nearly as tall as his cousins or their father - with an insatiable stomach. It wasn't anything close to as dramatic as what Jack was currently feeling. Compared to his graceful older brother, Jack felt awkward and self-conscious. Puberty was the worst.

It'd all begun at Christmas time when he'd received a new broom as a gift from his father. In his excitement, Jack's voice had finally cracked. Though it was great fun for his family to tease him about it, it wouldn't stop. Almost overnight, it seemed, his voice decided to rebel against him and the great battle between boyhood and adulthood began. Jack sipped his soup quietly, dying to speak up and make friends. He got on well with his room-mate Barnaby and one of his classmates Jemima, but he didn't consider them close mates yet.

Jack cleared his throat, wondering if there were a potion for vacillating vocal chords so he could speak like a normal wizard. He was doing all right until a problem posed itself immediately: the salad was too far and he couldn't stand up and reach for it without knocking into someone else's dinner. Jack felt his cheeks grow warm as he thought of any possible way to get around asking for assistance.

It was impossible. Jack swiped his tongue over his lips once and opened his mouth. "The salad?" The three syllables went smoothly past his lips and he thanked his vocal chords for cooperating this time.
40 John Spencer Don't make me talk. 299 John Spencer 0 5


Lena Westley

August 11, 2015 4:14 AM
Two words were an adequate amount as far as Lena was concerned. She knew the boy next to her needed the salad, what else needed to be said? The past semester she had started talking to people and although not good at chit chat she was able to string a few sentences together. That being said she didn’t exactly desire stringing them together when it wasn’t necessary or when she wasn’t in the mood for distraction.

Lena passed her fellow Aladren the salad bowl, not saying anything. It was refreshing to have someone not want to talk. The boy, with his face all but buried in his bowl as if it were a perfectly reasonable hiding place, obviously didn’t want to talk. Lena, though not at all adept at picking up social cues, knew this one very well. She didn’t invent it, she hadn’t perfected it, but darn if she hadn’t used it throughout her entire first three years here. This fourth year was very different having joined a club, actually speaking with people other than her brother after Olivier had been absent several classes, and even talking with Olivier more as opposed to just daydreaming while in the presence of Olivier. She was becoming downright personable.

“Potatoes, please?” Well, maybe not downright personable. She didn’t even make eye contact with the boy when asking him. But she was definitely getting better.
7 Lena Westley Wouldn't Think of It 279 Lena Westley 0 5


Jack Spencer

August 12, 2015 11:44 AM
It was incredibly difficult not to say anything or strike up a conversation; wasn't it considered rude not to even thank someone? But the witch he'd asked didn't seem keen to chat and Jack simply nodded when he received it to show his thanks. He settled gloomily back into his seat, feeling cursed to silence for the rest of the term. His mates would laugh at him otherwise and Jack didn't want that. Adam would've done loads better at accepting this curse, but Jack didn't have that same charisma or light-heartedness.

The witch asked for potatoes in a terse manner and Jack wondered if she was going through the same thing as well. Did witches suffer these sorts of things? He couldn't remember Charlotte ever going through this either, but then again both she and Adam were the ideal children. Puberty had only made them more attractive, not awkward, self-conscious individuals.

Jack passed the potatoes over to the witch, wondering what he could say to at least break the overwhelming silence. "I'm Jack," he told her. His scratchy voice sounded like a hybrid between a tenor and a baritone, and after those two words he thought it'd be best to simply stop speaking again and eat his dinner as quickly as possible.
40 Jack Spencer Thanks for being considerate. 299 Jack Spencer 0 5


Lena Westley

August 12, 2015 8:59 PM
After she thanked him for the potatoes the boy introduced himself. “I'm Jack.”

“Lena” she replied, sticking her hand out to shake before saying “Nice to meet you.” She wasn't sure he'd notice her outstretched hand, the boy having turned to his meal again but attempted the gesture anyway.

She hadn't expected the boy to talk. He reminded her of herself a year ago with the lowered head, very little eye contact and few words. It was normal to introduce yourself but was it normal then to not talk? She didn't think so, and regarded this as an “opener” for a conversation. Only she didn't have any idea what people usually talked about.

“What year are you?” She asked, honestly curious. He looked younger and she hadn't seen him in her classes. Of course, she also didn't recognize most of the people she'd been in the same classes with for four years. She had only seriously started taking note of people this year. He could very well be in her class and just have a baby face.

In any case she was glad to be back at Sonora, where her social skills were improving and where she could spend quality time with others. One person in particular, but others all the same. Her thoughts ceased their rambling when Jack replied.
7 Lena Westley Save your thanks- conversation, here we come 279 Lena Westley 0 5