I can only hope. on Transfiguration

Professor Skies

September 14, 2014 11:27 PM

Beginners - the start of something beautiful by Professor Skies

“Good morning class,” Professor Skies called out promptly at ten-thirty. They were far enough into term now that everyone should have been finding their way to class without difficulty, so excuses for lateness would need to be good.

Although the students' results would still be somewhat variable, they should by now have gained a basic understanding of the mechanics of Transfiguration, and be reliably getting some result every time, even though heir efforts were likely to be a long way from perfect. Therefore, Selina had decided to introduce a new element to them today.

“Today, we will be working on design work. Often, in exams, the task is set so that the average student can complete it competently. Therefore, in order to distinguish who is average from who is exceptional, examiners will look at the level of style with which the task is executed. This is a theme that will come up throughout your time here at Sonora, and will always be a way in which you can stretch yourself in this class. It is also a good way to bridge between the lower and higher level tasks,” by now, her students would be used to the fact that she normally set one task for the lower year in the class and one for the upper.

“Today, you will be making metal stamps, of the kind you might dip in ink to do printing, or press into sealing wax. First years, please take a plain metal ingot, second years a block of wood.” As she said this, a box containing piles of both materials began to float around, pausing in front of each student. The first years had only to concentrate on creating a design, whilst the second years needed to transfigure the material at the same time. “It may help to sketch out your design before you begin so that it stays firmly in your mind. Remember to know your own limitations – it is better to have a complete stamp with a simple design than a half formed mess that would have been elaborate if complete.

“The spell is signum and the wand movement is circular in general, though can be substituted for a square pattern if your design is more angular. Feel free to experiment and see whether it makes a perceivable difference to your work.

“You may talk quietly amongst yourselves. I'll be making my way around the room to see how you're getting on but please attract my attention if you need help. You may begin.”

OOC – welcome to Transfiguration. As indicated in the post, this takes places part way through term, so your character already has some familiarity with the subject. Posts here are graded on your realism not how well you claim to have performed, so keep it in line with what could be expected of someone of your character's age and experience. You are being supervised and Professor Skies would not allow anything to get out of hand, so please give me time to intervene if you are having trouble, and tag me in the subject line to get my attention.

Please put your character's name and house in the author line.

Posts are marked on length, realism, creativity and relevance. Enjoy.

Subthreads:

I can only hope. by Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus with Tobias Reinhardt II, Teppenpaw

Stuck on just the first step. by Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw with Araceli Arbon, Crotalus, Aiden O'Neil

Beauty's in the eye of the beholder. by John Umland, Aladren

13 Professor Skies Beginners - the start of something beautiful 26 Professor Skies 1 5

Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus

September 23, 2014 4:30 AM

I can only hope. by Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus

Uzume walked through the halls toward her Transfiguration class, her lilac lace dress swishing lively in contrast to her indifferent steps. Transfiguration was one of those classes she categorized as a ‘waste of time’. In her opinion, none of the spells were beautiful enough to use in her dancing, meaning they were absolutely useless to her. She supposed maybe some people could find benefits to transfiguration, however with her status she would never have to worry about transforming one petty object into a different, albeit equally, petty object.

It was 5 minutes to the start of class; as usual she was right on time. The first week of classes she mentally timed out the walk to each room, so that no time was wasted waiting for the lesson to begin. She hated this about Western schooling. Really, the idea that she had to go to the teacher’s room to learn. It wasn’t like there were so many students in the school that they had to have multiple first year classes. It was just the same small group of first and second years being herded from room to room. Utterly ridiculous in her opinion. So as a sign of defiance, each day she attempted to walk in at the last minute. Professor Skies couldn’t very well say anything as long as she wasn’t late, and she made sure to be there right as the clock struck 10:30.

Sitting at a table in the middle of the room, Uzume got out her parchment to take notes. She had to pay attention at least a little if she wanted to pass the class, lest she be forced to do the unthinkable, and actually repeat first year transfiguration.

“How pointless,” she thought to herself as Professor Skies revealed the task for the day. She had several stamps back in her room, and even more in her father’s office at the Shinohara manor. If there was an off chance that none were available, she only needed to send out a servant to buy one. So in Uzume’s eyes, the idea of making a metal stamp seemed like nothing more than a glorified art project. Even so, she still wrote down the instructions on her paper verbatim. To avoid any possible confusion when referencing her notes in the future, she wrote most of them in Japanese. Not only was writing this way much faster, but it insured consistency. So far, this system had worked very well for her. Homework assignments on the other hand were another beast all their own. Many times she had to rewrite entire pages due to all her spelling errors. It’s not that her English was bad per say, just that writing was a lot harder when an entire language was made up of only 26 letters.

When the box reached her, she threw her hand in, and pulled out the first metal ingot she touched. She chose not to waste her time choosing between pieces of junk metal like her other classmates might be so inclined to do. Although Professor Skies suggested that they sketch out the design first, Uzu felt there would be no need seeing as she was copying one she had seen before. The crest of the Shinohara Clan was the azalea, a beautiful strong flower native to her home of Nikko. The flower crest was featured on countless items throughout the manor, including all of the sealing stamps. She had seen it so many times before, that it was engrained into her memory. As such, she didn’t want to draw it, as her poor art skills wouldn’t give the elegant flower the honor it deserved.

Looking at her ingot, she held the picture of the seal in her mind. After a calm breath, she waved her wand in a circular motion. “Signum” she said confidently, only a trace amount of her accent slipping through. The end of the ingot began to transform into the familiar 5-petal flower stamp. Success. Unfortunately, this was the only part of the stamp that was successful. Except for the side that held the design, the other 5 sides of the metal rectangle stayed exactly the same. It looked absolutely bland compared to the one she was used to using. Stamps were supposed to be circular and have a metal grip adorned with designs, nothing close to what she had transfigured. Uzu tried picking it up to see if it could still be used as a stamp. Not only was it uncomfortable to hold without a grip, it was extremely heavy, even more so than when she had originally taken it out of the box. She grimaced; realizing that by changing the weight of the object, she had effectively hindered much of its use as a stamp.

“Do you think Professor Skies would let this pass as a finished project?” she asked the person seated next to her, not caring if she was interrupting their work. “Technically seeing as it has a stamp at the end it could be considered a stamp right?” she continued, trying to justify that what she had made was sufficient enough to turn in. She just wanted to be done with the thing.

0 Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus I can only hope. 0 Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus 0 5

Tobias Reinhardt II, Teppenpaw

September 23, 2014 8:11 PM

Optimism is good. by Tobias Reinhardt II, Teppenpaw

The assignment for that day's class had greatly intrigued Tobi. Though the class was technically transfiguration, the spell-work fell into the category of things his parents did in their metal and wood charming business. He had seen his father use the spell several times and he and his brother, Aarne, had mimicked him from behind the work table using scraps of metal and wood as makeshift wands. Because of all this, he was fairly confident that he would be able to complete the design portion of the stamp rather easily. However, Tobi was never one for showboating and did not wish to take a block of wood especially because Professor Skies had specifically asked first years to take metal and second years to take wood. In addition, he knew that he had not been trained enough to know how to transfigure wood into metal so while the first year's work would be easy for him to complete, the second year's work would most likely be too difficult.

He already knew what design he wanted to create, but first before he committed to anything he wanted to see what size and shape of metal ingot he received. One thing his father taught him was to listen to the metal (or to the wood). The metal would say what it wanted to be turned into and what it wanted to look like. No one could force it to do anything it didn’t want to do and that, Tobias Reinhardt I said, was the secret to successful metal charming. So, after Tobi dipped his hand into the box that was going around the room, he decided what he would do. The ingot was long and rectangular shaped. Tobi figured that if he could push the top half of the ingot together like a handle, he could work with what the stamp itself was going to be. He didn’t think he particularly need to design the handle though, as his father believed that tools didn’t have to look pretty as long as they were functional. And since stamps were tools that meant functionality were their prime reason for existence.

Tobi placed the piece of metal on his desk in front of him and deliberated over the steps to creating the stamp. He didn’t know if he wanted to take his chances and form the handle and the stamp design at the same time like he’d seen his father do or if he wanted to aim for precision and preform the spell twice-- once for the handle and once for the design. In the end he settled on the second one, wanted to do his family proud and make a really great stamp. “Signum,” he said, moving his wand in a circular motion and envisioning a smooth, rounded handle. Tobi continued to move the wand in a circular motion even after he had finished saying the spell in an attempt to smooth out the edges further like he had seen potters do with their fingers when making something with clay. Once he was satisfied with the result, he closed his eyes and thought hard about his design. He saw the two squares that sat on either side of two rectangles, each connected with a line, mirroring the other side around a perfectly symmetrical hard-edged tree shape. “Signum,” he cast again, drawing out his square wand movements slowly, imagining them to carry the line through from each end of the stamp to the other.

He reached his fingers out to trace the smooth engraving on the underside of his ingot turned stamp. Though the design was not perfect, it was still a good first attempt. It greatly resembled the Haudenosaunee flag though the squares were not perfect, the lines the connected them wavered, and the tree shape was slightly lopsided. Besides, it was a simple yet meaningful design and Professor Skies had said it was better to create something simple that could be pulled off than something that could have been great but really only looked like a melted blob. Tobi was admiring his handiwork when the student sitting next to him spoke.

“Do you think Professor Skies would let this pass as a finished project?” the girl asked. “Technically seeing as it has a stamp at the end it could be considered a stamp right?”

Tobi tilted his head slightly to the side as he examined the botched piece of metal. It looked rather sad but he didn’t want to offend the girl. He recognized her as Uzume Shinohara not only because she had stood out at the Opening Feast with Japanese dress greatly contrasting with the sea of Western clothing around her but also because she always managed to slide into a seat just in the nick of time each class period. Tobi half-admired, half-disliked her for this talent as he found it rather disrespectful-- they had more than enough time to get from class to class. But Uzume* (Tobi wasn’t really one for caring about pureblood status nor using proper terminology when he didn’t have to and he kind of assumed that he could call people whatever he so desired inside his head) had never really been outright disrespectful in class so he’d always shrugged it off. Looking at her rather plain stamp now though along with her rather nonchalant attitude made him second guess himself-- perhaps he had been right about her in the first place.

“Um,” he said slowly as he tried to think of something nice to say to her. “It certainly looks rather minimalist, you could always go for that angle if she questioned you.” He shrugged. “But I would spend more time on it if I were you.” The class period was an hour long which meant they all had more than enough time to make sure their piece looked presentable before having to give it to Professor Skies for grading. A shoddy piece was no excuse unless the spell was extremely troubling to the student for some reason.

*OOC: As Tobi has never talked to her and just knows her name from roll call/the Opening Feast I’m going to assume she has been introduced in both of those places in the Western manner and so he doesn’t think Shinohara is her first name.

10 Tobias Reinhardt II, Teppenpaw Optimism is good. 289 Tobias Reinhardt II, Teppenpaw 0 5

Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw

September 28, 2014 4:16 PM

Stuck on just the first step. by Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw

Aiden had become accustomed to the class schedules and what to expect from each of them. Back home, his lessons had only been in theory. It was very strange to now to be also learning the practical portions of the lessons. Aiden wasn’t sure if he liked it. That is to say, he liked learning it and knowing this was something he could do now, but he didn’t like how hard it was to actually do it correctly. He thought learning magic would be so easy and he would have it down pat the first time because he was a born Magical who had it in his life since the start. Nope, that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t even imagine how the Muggleborns were handling all of this. He would have to see how Eva was doing, he might also ask Savannah if it was as hard for her to get the spell work to work as it was for him. He probably could have asked his roommates their opinions, but Aiden hadn’t really formed any sort of friendship with either of those and he didn’t think schoolwork would win them over.

He signed when their lesson started. Who cares about design? He supposed he could see how it would determine a person’s level of skill, but that only made it worse for Aiden. Everything that he would ever transfigure in life was likely to be one very solid color. No pattern. Patterns were pointless. His grandmother loved floral prints. Loved them. Aiden thought they were ugly. Solid things were nice to look at.

Aiden stared at the metal piece for a moment, trying to figure out what sort of design he should have. He could do a Quidditch design, but he didn’t think that would be very impressive. There were a lot of quidditch players in the school and they would probably do their own design that would turn out much better than his. He could do fencing, but that wouldn’t be fun… Aiden was stuck. He had no idea what o do for his design. This sent him into a whirlwind of self-reflection. Did he not have any hobbies? Anything that was so very him? What was everyone else doing? Did everyone else find this to be an easy decision for them? Should he just go with something generic? But what was generic? Spots? Lines? Flowers? NO! Not flowers. Never flowers. He would not go in that direction. He needed something though, but what?

Deciding that this was just not something he was sure he could think of himself, Aiden turned to his neighbor for help, “Hey, do you have any design ideas? I just can’t think of anything other than Quidditch related, but I think a lot of people might go in that direction.”

6 Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw Stuck on just the first step. 0 Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw 0 5

Araceli Arbon, Crotalus

September 29, 2014 6:15 AM

I know that feeling by Araceli Arbon, Crotalus

Araceli wasn't sure there was anyone here she counted yet as a friend. It wasn't really surprising given her utter inability to string two words together around other people but it was upsetting nonetheless. She had had a very enjoyable conversation with Tobias but she was unsure how to take that any further. She felt like if she could just sit with him in classes it would help... She had already spoken in front of him once so perhaps she'd be able to manage the spells if she knew someone safe was next to her. No luck on that today though, and she slid into a the seat next to a Teppenpaw boy, hoping he lived up to his house's reputation if he choose to interact with her. She half wondered whether people thought it was pointless by now. Enough of them had spoken to her and got so little reaction that they must have, en masse, figured out there was something wrong with her.

At least she liked the class reasonably well today. Sketching was a lady like talent and she had had plenty of art lessons. She wasn't a natural talent at it, unlike Delphine. Her sister was a habitual doodler. It was a habit which irked their mother a little (though was deemed better than Araceli's own incessant fiddling with her hair) but the designs her sister sprawled through the margins were undeniably beautiful. Araceli enjoyed receiving her letters more for their illustration than their news.

She decided to spend some time sketching out her idea. She would probably have little to show at the end of the lesson if the spell stuck in her throat but perhaps an annotated design could count for something, though she rather doubted it. The emblem to use came easily to mind. Her family crest featured a tree and all the girls had necklaces depicting it. She removed her own now, laying it on the label to copy from. On the necklace, the letter 'A' was twisted out of one of the branches but she wasn't sure that would show up adequately in an easily smudged stamp. Stamps worked best when they were bold, whilst jewellery could be finely worked. She would draw an 'A' into the centre of the trunk, shading it to show that it would be lower than the rest of the stamp and thus come out plain when it was inked. She was just setting pen to parchment to begin her sketch when the person next to her spoke. She jumped, splattering ink across the page.

Did she have design ideas? She nodded cautiously, nudging the necklace slightly towards him. She had an idea... She wasn't sure about what to suggest for him though. She didn't think there was anything wrong with doing a Quidditch design if that was what he liked. Professor Skies hadn't said there would be points for originality. She pondered his question though. What else could he do? Although she didn't reply, it was apparent in her eyes that, behind the slightly fearful look, she was thinking about it. Her own idea had come from her family coat of arms. She tried to remember who this boy was – she had a vague feeling that he was reputable but when she was put on the spot to speak to people it made her brain freeze up in all kinds of unhelpful ways. But maybe he had a coat of arms too... She placed a fresh page of parchment between them. She drew a shield, quickly outlining the Arbon coat of arms with its prominent tree in the middle. From this she drew an arrow and blocked out a very quick version of her own tree with its 'A' to show where she'd got her idea from. Underneath she drew an empty coat of arms with a question mark in. He was also interested in Quidditch, so she drew a short line under the coat of arms and wrote 'Quidditch – Hobbies – reading? music?' as she pondered whether the boy had any other interests that he'd be more confident in making a stamp from. The page was between them anyway so he would easily be able to see what she was doing but as her ideas ran dry, she... hesitated. Most of her wanted to snatch it back, quite sure he'd find her odd for doodling and writing it out instead of talking to him. But it was equally rude to ignore him completely and he was probably curious as to what she was madly scribbling. She slid the paper more to his side.

13 Araceli Arbon, Crotalus I know that feeling 290 Araceli Arbon, Crotalus 0 5

John Umland, Aladren

October 01, 2014 12:38 AM

Beauty's in the eye of the beholder. by John Umland, Aladren

The time spent obtaining necessary new clothes had been, between having to stand perfectly still on a stool and having to listen to Julian dither over which of two dresses she liked better, the most boring part of John’s first school shopping trip, but it had not been the part which had taken the longest. That honor had gone to the time he had spent at the wandmaker’s. Since the wandmaker who had sold Steve and Julian their wands had died last year and going several provinces out of their way to the wandmakers his parents had lived closest to when they were eleven-year-olds had been impractical, they had been first-time clients, and their appointment with Mr. Chenar had begun with what had amounted to an interview. Mr. Chenar had admired Mom and Julian’s wands, complimenting Mom on the good condition of her ebony one and amusing them all by demonstrating hazel’s trick for detecting underground water with Julian’s. He had asked a lot about John’s interests, even seeming to pay attention when John, nervous, began to ramble about birds and listening, too, when Mom and Julian added commentary, talking about his favorite books. John had asked what on earth was meant by the wand choosing the wizard, which had led to a long and, to him, nearly impenetrable discussion between Mom and Mr. Chenar, with a few comments from Julian, about divination and predestination which had ended with a promise to exchange some books each adult had referred to which the other wasn’t familiar with. Then they had been left to finish their tea while Mr. Chenar pulled wands for John to try out, starting with a chestnut and phoenix feather one, followed by walnut and phoenix feather, walnut and dragon heartstring, chestnut and unicorn hair, aspen and unicorn hair, there had been a couple of ebony wands, a couple of pine, a cypress, and one hornbeam….

Finally, however, one had emerged the victor: sycamore and dragon heartstring, twelve and three-quarters inches long. Mr. Chenar had said it was a somewhat “temperamental” wand, but that since it was also a wand which wanted to learn and would do so quickly, he thought they would work well together. John hadn’t said so, because Mr. Chenar was nice, but all of that had sounded a little out there to him. He had thought of wands as something like burning-glasses, focusing magic the way a mirror or lens could focus light to a small point to start a fire, with a specific combination of materials being like using the right kind of metal to conduct electricity for a specific object. The idea of it misbehaving on its own had seemed silly, right up until he’d started his wand-based classes. His first two weeks had been...memorable.

It hadn't just been the problem of developing an attachment, either. Just figuring out how to handle and make precise motions with an object longer than his forearm had been an effort. He still messed up wand movements if he wasn’t paying absolute attention to what he was doing, and sometimes if he was. He knew that last part because of Transfiguration. Charms and Defense could be dangerous if bungled, too, but Transfiguration was supposed to be the most dangerous, a position supported by his mother. He hadn’t understood a quarter of what Mom had written a few weeks earlier about whatness, thisness, and gigantic iron spheres in an otherwise empty universe (to him, it all seemed simple – this was not that, because this was this; even the two identical iron spheres, because they were identical, couldn’t occupy the same space without being the same object, and he thought that even two chemically identical substances had tiny, tiny differences under a powerful enough microscope because at least some of their electrons would be in motion – so he knew he probably understood even less than he thought he did), but he was pretty sure it all meant that this was a subject which was Not To Be Taken Lightly. His wand was cooperating better with him now, after hours and hours of practice, but he still put all the concentration he could muster into his Transfiguration lessons. He still lost focus sometimes (he did not like to think about the day when, over-excited about what he thought he was going to produce, he'd somehow done something like melted the object he was supposed to be Transfiguring into…something he was pretty sure had had no relation to the original material), but he did try not to take just plain stupid chances.

Accordingly, he began class listening closely to Professor Skies, only to begin frowning early in as she described how they determined what was excellent from what was just good enough. What did she mean by style, anyway? All the meanings he knew were subjective. They wouldn’t be graded that way, would they?

Glumly, he remembered Mom arguing with Steve and Julian about whether or not essays should be graded on ‘elegance of expression’ instead of just on content and grammar and thought that that was probably exactly the way they were going to be graded. They were making art. Paintings Mom had shown him flashed through his head – golden ratio, vanishing points. Transfiguration was sculpture, in a way – he remembered one of the books quoting one of the Renaissance masters, he couldn’t remember which one, saying that the statue was in the marble already, he just had to cut away the extras, but that wasn’t how Transfiguration worked….

He pinched his forehead just above his eyebrows, irritated with his attempt to wander into cathedrals and bad advertisements, and tried to think of seals he had seen in books and museums. He could ask for some guidelines about what ‘style’ meant later, once he proved he could do something so she wouldn’t think he was just trying to weasel out of the assignment by splitting hairs. Name or motto – name in his case, since he didn’t have a motto – and some animal imagery, that would do it. His mind went straight to his birds, but would a single bird be fancy enough to meet her criteria for stretching himself? Especially since an image scaled down to seal size couldn’t, he thought, be very detailed. And which one should he use?

He opened the front compartment of his bag and removed his field guide, tucked away there with his lists of birds he’d spotted at Sonora so far in anticipation of a ramble after classes, to flip through for inspiration. There was always the dodo, but he didn’t think that one worked out too well symbolically even to him, which meant it would probably make even less sense to other people. Hawks went with his House, but he had no particular feelings about them personally. He had spent the time he spent in Arizona last year, when he could make himself stop reading The Horse and His Boy over again for long enough, looking for Chihuahuan Ravens….

Maybe that would do, or something close to it. He didn't think he'd ever seen one (Aunt Kathleen, his dad's sister, had interrupted him the one time he'd thought he might have caught a glimpse of white neck feathers), but he was pretty sure that even a professional seal-maker couldn’t make a letter stamp clear enough for anyone to distinguish between corvids – or even, honestly, that a largish bird was one, probably, he was just going for specifics in case he needed to explain the image for credit. He flipped to the back of the book, where he remembered running across it when he first read through the guide after Dad surprised him with it as a going-to-school present, in search of a decent picture.

He found one, and began to sketch.

Professor Skies had advised them to do so, but that wasn't why John did it. He had to draw it all out or the spell wouldn’t work for him. He had figured that much out pretty quickly. John had spent half his life wishing there was some way a quill or computer could just write down what he was thinking instead of requiring him to figure out how to say it all or type fast enough to get it all down, but no such thing existed and he now found it hard to handle the idea that he could translate the pictures in his head into physical realities without something...in between. It made no sense that it should be easier to translate it from an image, but he could…trick himself, sort of, this way, until he could find a real answer for how it worked. There had to be one. There was a whole section in the library dedicated to Transfiguration. One of those books had the answers he needed to make it make sense in them. He just had to find the right one, and read the books he’d need to read first to understand the right one….

He hoped he found it soon, because the drawing wasn't as sharp as the picture in his head, and he knew the result was going to look more like the drawing. He bit his lip, frustrated, and then started with a circular pattern, thinking it would fit better with the curved lines in the sketch - a nearly round-topped was-supposed-to-be-an-apple-tree and the rounded-looking back of the bird beneath it. He'd try square next, just to see - he couldn't turn down an actual offer to fool around and see what happened; not many people ever made those to him, and he liked Professor Skies for doing it - but he thought this would work better.

"Signum," he cast, but winced almost immediately, hearing the lingering frustration in his tone. Adding that into the mix didn’t help his focus at all, either. The metal bent itself into a horseshoe. Running his fingers over the surface, he felt lines, but they were broken up, not flowing properly.

“If I can get a good design on the other side, do you think she’ll assume I was trying to be stylish?” asked John of his neighbor, flipping the bent piece over to its still-blank side and thinking how he could divide the image to either end. “Maybe raise some of that up into a handle….” He made a pinching motion above the ingot and then drew his hand upward to illustrate what he meant, picturing it in his head.

16 John Umland, Aladren Beauty's in the eye of the beholder. 285 John Umland, Aladren 0 5

Aiden O'Neil

October 04, 2014 10:05 PM

But at least you had an idea! by Aiden O'Neil

Aiden had looked at his neighbor expectantly for some flow of ideas to happen. That was what usually happened during a conversation. Someone asks a question or for advice and the other person talks back, preferably answering whatever it was that the first person conversed about. This was what Aiden had learned growing up. It was only proper etiquette to answer, wasn’t it?

The girl, Arbon, she acknowledged him, which was nice, with a nod, but then just went back to her work. Did she not want to share the ideas? Why didn’t she just say ‘I do apologize but…’ instead of nodding and then saying nothing? He felt that was rather rude. Her necklace was her own idea, he wasn’t about to go take that from her, especially when he didn’t want to do a Quidditch thing because others who were more involved in it were likely to do that. Aiden wanted his own thing but he just wasn’t creative enough to think of what he wanted.

He was about to return to his blank parchment when Miss. Arbon put a piece of parchment in the space between them and began scribbling on it. He couldn’t quite make out what she was doing, but it didn’t seem like she was trying to keep it from him, so it must be something she had intended to share with him. When he realized she was, indeed, writing out her ideas, he had to wonder why she hadn’t just said them out loud. Was she afraid someone else would hear them? Did she not actually talk? If she didn’t speak, how did she do magic? They were too young to learn non-verbal spells, was she special in that she could already?

Looking at her sheet, he realized she had drawn her family crest. Aiden’s had like lions and a hand and stuff that he certainly couldn’t draw at all, but he at least understood what she was going for. She seemed to have also asked about his hobbies, but Aiden shrugged. “I don’t really have any.” He admitted. That was a little sad to acknowledge. At home, he mostly just spent time with his parents. His dad and him would fly around the property on brooms. His mother and him would read books and share snacks, but the books weren’t necessarily something he wanted to do. “I should probably start getting some though…” He added, more to himself than to her.

Still, what she had provided did help him somewhat. At least he could do something for his mom. She hated her name because she was named for a flower, but his dad always gave her those said flowers on their anniversary, telling her they were the prettiest ones he had ever seen. Over the years, they have become his mother’s favorite. He would attempt to draw one for his design. Of course, his one topic that he had originally refused to draw ended up being the only thing that made sense to him to actually draw. “I have an idea though for my design now.” Aiden announced to her. “It’s more of my parents thing, but the family crest reminded me of it. Thank you, Miss. Arbon.” Aiden said with a large genuine smile on his plump face.

“You know,” Aiden started when he began to draw the flower, “I didn’t want to draw flowers for my design. Flowers aren’t very…” He shook off the sentence not wanting to sound dumb, “But your family design reminded me of my parents’ tradition. My dad always brought home flowers that my mother is named after. She really hated her name, but because of this tradition my dad has with her, she’s fallen in love with them. If I can do the design right, I think it’d make for a lovely Christmas gift, don’t you agree?”

6 Aiden O'Neil But at least you had an idea! 287 Aiden O'Neil 0 5

Araceli Arbon

October 05, 2014 9:13 AM

What's the use if it's stuck inside my head? by Araceli Arbon

He didn't have hobbies. What did he do then, she wondered briefly. Mostly, she was thrilled that he was responding to her normally, treating her as if she had spoken, rather than reacting with confusion or disdain at her.... problem. She wasn't sure what to call it. She wondered what sort of hobbies he might be interested in. Eleven was rather late, she thought, to take up a musical instrument. It would probably be a frustratingly long time before one would be good at it. Oddly, the analogy that sprung to mind was learning to speak. If you learnt an instrument from a young age, you could be satisfied with your early, halting attempts. By the time you had developed an appreciation for music, you were able to play more fluently and attempt things you enjoyed. To learn a musical instrument from this age, but to be restricted to plucking out stagnant scales... It would be like being only able to speak in single words; fine, when you were small and discovering the power of language but frustrating to have thrust on you when you had so much in your head to say.

Not only was he speaking with her but she had given him an idea and he was grateful for it. She returned his smile, the expression on his face making her feel warm inside. She had been able to communicate, to engender feeling in someone else – positive feelings – and had been helpful. She didn't think she'd been useful to anyone since she arrived here. She didn't think she'd ever been particularly useful back home either, unless you counted her admirable efforts at being neither seen nor heard. She gave him a little nod of acknowledgement. The right response, she knew, was 'you're most welcome,' and he seemed so safe and friendly. But there was so much else going on around them, so much chatter and it pressed in on her from all sides, making her feel tense and claustrophobic.

She was aware of her ingot sitting on the table, in need of her attention. Turning to face those blank slates, those unstarted projects was always a horrible moment. They were so daunting. She was glad when her neighbour struck up further conversation, not just because it gave her an excuse to put it off but because it was a novelty for someone to want to talk to her. She turned towards him, giving her clear and full attention as he drew and spoke. She smiled widely at the story. It was so sweet and romantic. She nodded enthusiastically when he asked if she thought it would make a good gift. Effie always made them something herself and they were the best presents. She wished she had her sister's talent, though in a different field so that she wouldn't be copying. She never knew how to match her sister's gifts when Effie put so much time and care into them.

She raised her eyebrows, craning her neck a little, not really trying to see Aiden's parchment without his permission because that would be rude but trying to indicate that she was interested to see what the flower, and his mother's name therefore, was.

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