Omens of Doom on Cascade Hall

Dorian Montoir

January 20, 2019 8:04 AM

Omens of Doom by Dorian Montoir

It was September the second, and the term was not off to a good start. Dorian had been about to step out of his room, when Kir McLeod had walked down the corridor, causing Dorian to flinch backwards into his room because the sixth year was brandishing a large bunch of balloons. Dorian did not like balloons. He was not run-out-the-room-screaming terrified of them but they made him very uncomfortable. People thought balloons were nice, and added a sense of cheer. Dorian though balloons ruined events with the ever present threat of a sudden, moderately loud noise, and the accompanying tension that brought. He also did not relish the thought of anyone finding this out because, as he knew from having a horrible older brother, it was a fear that was both incredibly amusing to others and very easily exploited. He had several very unpleasant memories of Matthieu squeezing balloons in a threatening manner very near his face and, even when they didn’t burst, they made that terrible squeaky noise, which just made his skin crawl. He suspected whatever incident had made him afraid of balloons in the first place had been his brother’s fault because… well, which of his childhood traumas and emotional hang-ups wasn’t?

The only mild silver lining was that he was pretty sure Kir hadn’t seen him jump backwards, and the only person who might have done was Vlad, and he already knew about the balloon thing, having had to rescue Dorian from the ones Matthieu had sent to taunt him on his birthday in first year. It was a pretty slim silver lining when all he had wanted was a nice, pleasant start to the day and it now felt like the universe was conspiring against him. Or, at the very least, lightly mocking him, neither of which he wanted from it. He hoped that they were not a portent for the year to come.

He decided to take a seat at Pecari table. Pecari would not have been his usual choice for his first breakfast back. Ordinarily, he probably would have gone to Aladren. However, the balloons were at Aladren, and there was a chance they might conceivably move to Teppenpaw at some point, so that was also out. He was enough of a table-hopper outside of feasts that his presence at Pecari was probably not going to be considered too unusual. He could, after all, be waiting for Tatiana. That was hopefully what people would assume, if they wanted to assume anything at all about his presence there. He was sitting so that he could keep the balloons in his peripheral vision, check what they were up to, notice when they were leaving, but was not directly facing them so that he didn’t have to stare at them all the time. Though he found his eyes kept being drawn that way. Well… hopefully that didn’t seem too odd. They were eye-catching, as well as being horrible squeaky potential explosions. He found his eyes going to dart up at them again, only to find that someone seemed to be heading in his direction.

13 Dorian Montoir Omens of Doom 1401 Dorian Montoir 1 5

Evelyn Stones

January 23, 2019 2:34 PM

Oh, I should've worn black lipstick then. by Evelyn Stones

Evelyn was feeling a bit of a mess. Although she was pretty happy with how things were going at Sonora so far, there were always complications. However, she was happy to be wearing her makeup today, sure that she'd eventually run out of energy and go back to just wearing lipstick. Today, she was wearing her staple orange. It was a favorite of CJ's and hers, and there was something familiar about the whole thing. Her eyeshadow was blue, and she felt like a million bucks, if a million bucks was gawky and a little bit awkward. Maybe she felt like a million ducks.

When she went down for breakfast that morning, she wasn't terribly surprised to find students in all the wrong places for the meal. She didn't often sit with Ness just because something about the Aladren made her think that it would be better to follow the "rules" in this cause, one but she did occasionally and it was commonplace to see other students sitting anywhere they pleased throughout the Hall. When she saw a boy sitting at the Pecari table that she recognized but didn't know well, she thought it might be good to approach him. This was more due to the look of painful discomfort that set his shoulders and face than anything else, but maybe she was just reading into it. It was a face that Julius made sometime, which made her think this boy was not particularly comfortable sharing his feelings about . . . anything. Okay, maybe that was just Julius.

Why were boys so difficult?

"Good morning," she said, plunking down across from the boy and smiling at him. "I'm Evelyn. You're friends with Tatiana, right?" she added, suddenly remembering where she knew him from.

22 Evelyn Stones Oh, I should've worn black lipstick then. 1422 Evelyn Stones 0 5

Dorian

January 24, 2019 12:20 AM

I don't think it would have helped by Dorian

Dorian was rather surprised by the person who came and took a seat with him. She was in Pecari, so it made sense for her to come and sit at that table, but why was she coming to sit with him? They did not know each other, and had rather little cause to. He had paid attention to the year below his own, both because he (on and off) shared classes with them and also because they would have been Émilie's cohort had she attended Sonora. The years below that... He was familiar only with specific members of them, whom he had a particular reason to pay attention to. He knew Katerina, for example, and to a lesser extent, Lyssa, because he was responsible for them. They were in his house and were the sisters of his- well, Katerina was the sister of his friend. Lyssa was the sister of someone who seemed to think Dorian was friendly and appeared to like him a confusing amount - more than Dorian felt he ought to, based on anything he had done to deserve it, and more than he had expected him to based on their seemingly opposite interests. He did not feel he knew Parker well enough to get particularly involved in Lyssa's life, the way he had in Katerina's, but he... knew who she was. And would help if she needed it. But she seemed fine. The rest of them were just... 'smaller than Émilie' and he did not give them much further thought. Well, younger than her anyway. Between her diminuitive size and being a summer baby, Émilie lagged behind her own yearmates in the height stakes. The second year that had just sat down with him also looked rather on the tall side.

The fact that 'I have talked to your brother and he appears not to hate me' was, in his mind, an insufficient reason to bother Lyssa brought him to another point, regarding why this girl sitting with him was odd. He was uncertain about butting in unwanted on Lyssa, or anyone else's, life. And he was older than her. He thought about the students two years older than him. Winston, Simon, Victor. Even before Simon had proven himself to be a xenophobic butthole, Dorian would never, never in a million years had the guts to go up to any of them. Even Kir, who was less... serious than the Pureblood boys. He was just so much older than Dorian. Was this girl not intimidated by the fact that he was a fourth year? Well, clearly the answer was no, and the question itself sounded ridiculous even in his own head because why would anyone find him intimidating, ever? And it wasn't that he wanted to be. It was just... it was very Pecari of her not to be bothered by it. Maybe he should have sat at Crotalus after all. They might all have ignored him. Scared him, yes. That too. But from a respectably grumpy distance.

In spite of not really knowing her year group, he had of course, seen her around. It was a small school, and she had a habit of having a strangely vivid mouth. The first time he saw her, he thought someone's colour changing charm had gone awry. But then, it had kept happening. He was, of course, familiar with the concept of lipstick. Mama wore it, and Émilie did for parties. It was universally somewhere along the pink and red spectrum. He was not sure why anyone would have wanted lipsticks in the colours this girl wore. His understanding was that the point of make-up was the make you look pretty and hers just made her look strange and off-putting.

The world definitely had it in for him this morning. First balloons, and now an orange lipped stranger was forcing her company on him. It was both unpleasant and surreal, and he wondered for a moment if it was real because he had definitely had dreams in which fewer odd and unpleasant things happened.

"Good morning," he replied, even though it demonstrably wasn't. He kept his tone even and polite however, his face neutral. "Yes. My name is Dorian," he responded, when she asked if he was friends with Tatiana, wondering whether this was just small talk, a declaration of something in common, or an investigation into why he had chosen to sit there, "Do you know her much?" he asked. Clearly the girl knew who Tatiana was, and they were housemates, but that was different from actually knowing someone.

13 Dorian I don't think it would have helped 1401 Dorian 0 5

Evelyn Stones

January 24, 2019 12:47 AM

But it would have been more fun. by Evelyn Stones

Evelyn was a bit surprised that the Teppenpaw seemed so unfriendly. Perhaps that was too strong a word, but she had done him the courtesy of at least making polite small talk and greeting him while he waited-- or hid-- and that seemed awfully sour of him to be a nub about it. She was fairly certain she'd seen him smile before, and it was odd to hear such a polite voice come out of such a plain expression. Unless . . . perhaps he didn't actually want company? Her strength was certainly not politeness, and maybe she'd just missed the fact that he didn't want company.

She mulled this over as she replied in the affirmative. "Yes, a little bit. Tatiana introduced me to her sister, and we've talked a little bit in the Common Room and stuff. You are in a club together, right?" she added, remembering that he might not be fluent in English. He was 4th year though, and seemed to be doing just fine, so she didn't change her cadence.

Evelyn looked around the dining table for a moment before changing the topic. "What's your favorite breakfast food?" she asked. "I'm fond of eggs," she added, reaching for a plate of what appeared to be soft-boiled ones and plopping them atop some hashbrowns and bacon on her plate.

22 Evelyn Stones But it would have been more fun. 1422 Evelyn Stones 0 5

Dorian

January 24, 2019 1:13 AM

You have a strange sense of fun by Dorian

There were two different versions of Dorian; the one who came out around his friends who was warm and talkative and who smiled easily, and the one who dealt with strangers, who was quiet and reserved. Perhaps, as he spent most of his time with the people he was most familiar with, the general perception of him would be as a cheerful, open person. But it wasn't unusual to find him quiet, pensive and with his walls up either. He was a little off because of the balloons but the treatment Evelyn was getting was not much different than he'd have presented to any stranger. She hadn't done enough to be let in, and therefore he was polite but distant.

"Yes, sort of," he replied, when she asked about being in a club, "It is not an actual school club but we just call it like this. We spend time together to learn each other's languages, together with other freinds," he explained. He had little problem admitting this. The second he opened his mouth he marked himself out as foreign, so it wasn't like he was revealing anything particularly personal.

Her next question could have seemed fairly desperate as small talk went, and it was unnecessary as he could quite happily have talked about school activities if she wanted to talk. He was almost amused by the randomness of it though, and it half reminded him of the strange choices and other off track thoughts that Jehan would sometimes come out with.

"I am unsure," he answered honestly. He could have just made something up but it would have been untrue and he struggled with lying, not wanting to even if it would have been quicker and briefer, "There are different breakfasts in different places. It would be strange to have a breakfast that does not belong where you are."

13 Dorian You have a strange sense of fun 1401 Dorian 0 5

Evelyn Stones

February 11, 2019 12:30 AM

You have a strange sense of home. by Evelyn Stones

Evelyn was mid-bite when Dorian replied, and she paused with her mouth open before putting down her fork, food still on it, and considering Dorian more closely. "That's a very good reply," she said, unused to such thoughtfulness. Ness was thoughtful, but not in the same sort of way. Perhaps reflective was a better word. "What if you are someplace you don't want to be? Would you eat breakfast that belongs somewhere else to make you feel better?"

Her thoughts spiraled as she wondered whether she'd ever resort to eating baby food when she started missing CJ. She doubted it pretty strongly, but then, she'd absolutely craved chocolate chip pancakes and things like that at Sonora. Those weren't very unusual foods though; they could go anywhere. She wondered how different the places were that Dorian might eat his breakfast. She supposed she'd eat seafood dishes at home on the coast that would feel a bit odd here. Foil wrapped salmon cooked in a campfire was good for camping trip breakfasts, but not so good for Sonora.

She suddenly had a dozen questions in her mind to ask this boy, but none of them seemed particularly polite and especially not all at once. She might've gone ahead and asked him anyway, but she was trying to work on being nicer. Malikhi needed her to be nicer, and she wasn't sure what to do about that. Dorian was a Teppenpaw, so maybe he'd be a good person to practice being nice with.

22 Evelyn Stones You have a strange sense of home. 1422 Evelyn Stones 0 5

Dorian

February 12, 2019 6:25 AM

That's rude by Dorian

The other girl stopped. Like, literally, fork down, dead stop. Dorian blinked as she declared his answer good.

“Thanks,” he managed, relieved that the odd gesture wasn’t an indicator of anger. It wasn’t necessarily that it indicated that, but when he found people hard to read, his mind tended to jump to expecting a negative reaction. He was glad she had said ‘good’ and not something ambiguous like ‘interesting.’ He liked to be interesting for people he trusted - for Jehan, and for Professor Brooding ‘interesting’ would probably have been better than ‘good’ but for strangers it was the other way around. ‘Interesting’ could mean ‘different’ which could mean ‘strange’ which could mean ‘I’m going to hit you or make fun of you.’

Her next question brought to mind a vivid memory of waking up in the hospital wing from the horrible fever that had gone round in his second year. He had wanted nothing more than his mother’s soup, the one with five spice that she always made them when they were sick, and he had been unable to have it due to being at school. But he had been in a very specific place within the school, the hospital wing, or a very specific place within his own thoughts and his own feelings - how did one define ‘place’ and did the inside of one’s own head count as one? In which case the place of ‘ill in bed’ or the space within his mind had been the relevant place to want that breakfast.

“Perhaps,” he acknowledged her question, with a hint of a smile that agreed more than his words did. If he did not want to be in a place, then that perhaps covered moods such as homesickness, and then eating a breakfast to remind him of home was then still relevant, the right salve to that emotion, and matched the place within his head. Perhaps it was less accurate to say ‘place’ and better to say ‘situation.’ That allowed for variations in mood and company. When he and Jehan were married and having lazy Sunday breakfasts together those would be different that the breakfasts he ate in the same place on other days. Those were bounded by time, and also by person. If it was a romantic breakfast for the two of them, they should eat the same, and Jehan did not eat meat. However, much as he loved Jehan, he also loved bacon, and was pretty sure that when breakfast was being consumed in the same space but without it being a romantic gesture, he would be eating it.

He searched for words to summarise, ones with a degree of personal distance but that still let him counter the point, or sum up the argument that was forming in his head. However, he couldn’t think of a way to phrase his thoughts that wouldn’t have got an eye roll, an accusation of being a pretentious sissy, or worse from his brother. And that was the bar he was still measuring strangers by.

“You choose eggs?” he asked, deciding to turn the conversation back on her, a favoured safety strategy, “One particular type, or all eggs are equally good?” he asked.

13 Dorian That's rude 1401 Dorian 0 5

Evelyn Stones

February 20, 2019 1:15 AM

I tend to be. Sorry about that. by Evelyn Stones

Dorian didn't say much. Evelyn thought that was odd. She knew he was nice; did that mean she should talk less? She hated to think that she talked too much, particularly since she usually thought of herself as fairly quiet. Perhaps she was simply reserved. Or perhaps she was just not very nice. This was going to take more work than she'd anticipated.

However, when the boy offered a smile, he almost seemed entertained. It struck her then that perhaps her kind of niceness wouldn't ever be the kind of niceness she saw in some people, but her own branch. The Evelyn branch of niceness, which was basically just being a weirdo and noticing people. She could probably do that easier than she could actually be nice.

"All eggs, I think," she decided, considering his question. "But that's why I like them. They can be so many different things. I never have to think too much about what I'd like for breakfast, just how I'd like them cooked. And if I make the wrong choice and get hard boiled eggs on a fried egg sort of day, it's still a delicious egg. They're also used in so many different cultures that when I get to travel, I think it will be easier to try new foods in other places. I can just try all the egg dishes all over the world." Evelyn was pretty some egg dishes would be terrible, but that was a point she was willing to forget for the sake of adventure.

"One nice thing about Sonora is that I can have eggs all different ways in the same meal. That's sort of exciting."

Now she really was talking too much. She wondered whether it would be better to just fade off into silence, or actually make a note of her ramblings. It was almost impossible that Dorian hadn't noticed, and she thought it was probably sort of rude to just keep going and then stop all of a sudden. "Sorry," she decided. "I don't mean to talk so much."

22 Evelyn Stones I tend to be. Sorry about that. 1422 Evelyn Stones 0 5

Dorian

February 21, 2019 8:47 AM

Apparently I am as well by Dorian

This girl was definitely strange. Dorian supposed most people were strange, in some way, to some others. Maybe people found Tatya’s jewellery strange, or Jehan’s hypothetical questions. He supposed there was a strangeness about them, but in a way that he enjoyed. He was unsure about this new girl’s strangeness. It was not horrible. It was sort of interesting. But it was still… new strangeness. He did not have a certain feeling about it yet.

He wasn’t sure how seriously to take some of it, which was he supposed, what he found unnerving. He liked her ability to always look on the bright side of eggs (and English-speaking people talked about sunny side up eggs, and sunny meant bright and happy in some ways, and there might be a really good egg joke in there somewhere, but he was in no way confident enough to try and figure that out with a stranger). He was less sure about eating a meal made of different types of eggs, or eating egg dishes only when travelling. She was either strange or joking but he found it hard to tel, which made him reluctant to comment because if he got it wrong, she might laugh.

But then she was apologising for talking too much, and he realised that he must have been erring far too much on the side of caution, and now he had let her chatter on but with too few reactions to be sure of herself.

“No, it is not too much,” he assured her, “Uh… I…” get really anxious about sharing my thoughts with people who aren’t my close friends. He felt that was a reasonable standpoint. It was not fair that it was not okay to say this. Or perhaps he just thought it was not okay to say this. It was a sort of… self-sustaining problem that he felt one could not excuse oneself for being shy about sharing feelings without sharing a lot of feelings within that single statement. “I am happy to listen. My smaller sister, she does a lot of talking. I just… I listen,” he repeated lamely. “Do you have toast theory too?” he asked encouragingly, hoping that she would understand that he was perfectly happy to listen, just that he himself did not feel his ideas about breakfast were sufficiently revelatory to warrant a lot of sharing in return.

13 Dorian Apparently I am as well 1401 Dorian 0 5