Mortimer Brockert

May 19, 2024 3:22 PM
Another summer had passed, much like all the others. Although this year, there had been something that happened that while not affecting Mortimer personally, he still very much knew it was wrong and hated it. And this time, it wasn’t Eustace either though there was plenty of that too. However, that was almost mundane now since it happened all the time. That said, Mortimer could not wait for Honora to be at school and away from her father.

As for what happened this summer though, well, that was something for Icky and Imogen or more likely Cory to deal with, and all of them were more feelings people than Mortimer was. Though to be fair, even he would admit that was an extremely low bar.

Now, however-thankfully so he didn’t have to think about things that happened last summer that might involve feelings including ones he himself was trying to deny that he had, after all this didn’t involve his grandchild, just a grand-niece he actually kind of liked - the new students were entering and the returning ones had assembled at their house tables. “Welcome to Sonora for the new first years and welcome back for all older students. First years, you should have received a blank badge at the end of Orientation. You will dunk the badge in the Sorting Potion and it 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.” Mortimer watched as his grandson, Uriah, was Sorted.


After the first years had been settled, Mortimer continued. “Would Christopher Brockert and Phillip Carson please come up and get your Head Student badges." He continued. "In addition, I'd like to call up Nausicaa Scapetello, Robyn Lundstrom, Lyla Holland and Xarryn Bavol to receive their prefect badges. Congratulations.” Mortimer could not have been happier and more proud that Christopher had won, despite the fact that the boy looked slightly confused about it. It made Mortimer want to shake Eustace all over again. (Not that he’d previously shaken him, though if some nanny or someone had at some point, it would explain an awful lot. However, Mortimer had certainly felt the desire at many points.) Admittedly, he had really hoped Liesl would win too, since truthfully, he’d always sort of had a soft spot for her-granted, Mortimer’s soft spots were less soft than the average person but still he’d always been sort of amused by her love of horror-and he felt bad for the events of the previous summer, despite it not being his fault at all but he guessed Mr. Carson was fairly inoffensive.

Although he hoped two boys winning wasn’t a bad sign that misogyny was a factor. This had been a humongous worry when they’d gone to gender neutral Head Student elections, something that not even a remotely significant portion of the student population had wanted. Of course, Mortimer was admittedly pretty biased against the student who formed that petition, given that she’d been his granddaughter’s mortal enemy. As it was though, his grandson was chosen and the other person was not terrible so he had to just hope that two boys winning was just a this year thing or that Mr. Carson was just that good an option. He knew Christopher was.

As for prefects, well Mortimer had a bit more to complain about there. Olaf was perfect for the position. Nothing against Miss Scapetello, he had no qualms about her in general and she even had on paper qualifications that Olaf didn't, like running the debate club. In fact, there was even something about her that reminded him of Topaz, though he couldn't figure out what. It was just that Olaf was ideal. More ideal even than his other grandchildren. However, since there was a social aspect to the job that he was pretty sure the Aladren would hate, at least Olaf was unlikely to be broken up about not getting it. And there were no other options in Teppenpaw or Pecari. He probably would not have voted for Mr. Bavol if there had been since the boy was practically illiterate, though Mortimer supposed there wasn’t a lot of reading or writing involved in the job. He’d also acknowledge that it was the fault of the parents and not the student, that Mr. Bavol’s pre-Sonora education had been neglected. However,he felt nothing but pity for whichever CATS examiner ended up grading the Pecari’s written exam.

And Miss Lundstrom stuck out very little on her own, Mortimer mostly knew her by what her relatives were like and their actions, the drama with her brother and the fact that her mom fell into the category of being a pain in the backside. Interestingly, she also seemed to be friends with Samara Crosby, whose mother also fell into the same category.

Which brought him to Crotalus. Now, Miss Holland was perfectly fine for the job in general.From what he gathered, Olaf seemed to hate her less than the rest of the human race in general and that spoke well of her. Had Tawny Crosby not been every bit as bad as Mrs. Lundstrom in a different way, Mortimer probably would have voted for her.Except Tawny was that bad and if Mortimer had to deal with her, someone was going to pay for it.

Once the prefects and Head Students were back in their seats, Mortimer continued. “Our midsummer event will be the Concert. Details to be announced at a later date.” After all, the Concert didn’t always mean what Jason thought it did, where it was exclusively music. Obviously there were some acts in the last one that most definitely didn’t not qualify as such and he didn’t mean Isla’s puppet show either.

And speaking of potentially being very much not musical “Now for the singing of the school song..” Lyric sheets were passed around and the song began.



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.


That done, he dug into his steak and bourbon.
Subthreads:

Aladren

Teppenpaw

Crotalus

Pecari

Staff
11 Mortimer Brockert Opening Feast 6 1 5

Grim Noir

May 25, 2024 12:30 AM
Grim had tried and failed to stay awake all day, a transition that had been made difficult by lack of support at home. They'd napped twice so far and were ready to head to bed, although they were frustrated at the prospect of missing out on the stargazing opportunities that nighttime granted. Soon they'd have classes to attend and those were entirely daytime activities. Grim thought that was wildly unfair but here it was, dinner time when it should be breakfast and classes would begin well after bedtime.

They looked around at the various offerings, bemused by all the options in front of them. They'd never seen most of the options present and it was difficult to know which things they'd want to try. It didn't help that the room seemed to be entirely full of hot air and an overwhelming mix of food smells. It made their stomach churn uncomfortably, so they merely chose the closest, least offensive item, and put a small portion on their plate. They hissed uncomfortably when their first bite gave away the distinct flavor of garlic; it didn't hurt Grim of course but they only knew the odor as a foul one and certainly had never eaten it.

The portion of food was swiftly dumped off onto the floor and kicked under the table, and a safer looking choice - a wiggly red jello bowl - caught their eye further down as they looked back up.

"Give me that one," they said, pointing at it without looking at anyone who might be able to answer their request. Realizing that, furrowed their brow, nervous about what etiquette bit they were missing here, and turned to the person next to them.

"I want jello," they said, their voice raspy from disuse.
22 Grim Noir This will do 1599 0 5

Lyla Holland

May 25, 2024 5:17 AM
Lyla’s summer had been fine. Her mom had decided that the Hollands- sans Dad, who was off on some mission somewhere he wasn’t allowed to talk about- would stay with Kerri’s family in Monterey over the summer “to make up for lost time,” or whatever. Lyla had managed a couple of trips to the TARDIS Bookshop again, browsing for ideas for the book club that she was definitely going to advertise and host this year. She sent another tome to Olaf each time she went, with short notes- the shorter, the better, she’d found when it came to Olaf- asking for his thoughts.

In between shopping trips, Kerri had started to teach her how to surf. Lyla was glad she knew how to swim, because her feet went up over her head almost every time. By the end of summer, she felt like she was half seawater she’d swallowed, half sunburnt, and half dumb little pebbles in her shoe because the private beach the Stonehursts apparently owned were rocky instead of sandy. It came out to one and a half, but Lyla felt strongly that none of those things could be assigned a smaller percentage.

Her fifteenth birthday kind of sucked. It wasn’t like she was able to host a party at not-her-house and her friends were scattered across the States, anyway. That was the downside of Sonora; friendships were geographically inconvenient. You had to either arrange for a portkey or get someone to side-along apparate you, or travel the Muggle way, on a plane or in a car, and Lyla had a feeling that Samara would Not Be Allowed to do anything the Muggle way. In an effort to not feel sorry for herself, she wrote ridiculously frilly letters to her friends and made her mom enchant them to spew glitter, like a reverse birthday card. Ever a Pecari, Wendy had wanted to use real glitter, but Lyla was slightly more responsible and insisted on stuff that would disappear after a few minutes. She didn’t want Olaf to murder her over a faceful of permanent glitter, as funny as it would be to see. Even so, the enchantment would likely put him in a mood, so she put a tiny apology in his letter and hoped for the best.

The Hollands, sans Dad, who was still gone, had arrived home to Colorado the day before the wagon ride. Lyla felt as red as a lobster, though she had started getting the hang of surfing in the last week or two. She didn’t have time to make the traditional roommate cookies before she left, but she made her mother promise to send her some as soon as possible.

She was glad to see Samara and Robyn, squeezing her best friends into a group hug before going to sit at the Crotalus table. A twinge of fear coursed through her as she realized that this was her fifth year. Robyn was going to be a prefect, but only one of the Crotali would be. Lyla had been so mindful of keeping all three of them included, and here one of them was going to be excluded whether they liked it or not. Robyn was already left out a lot, since she was in a different House. It was fair that she was part of the prefect pair since she wasn’t allowed to be a roommate (though Lyla would move her in in a heartbeat!). On the other hand, Robyn and Lyla had connected from day one, bonding over cookies at Orientation. Lyla was the center of the friend group, the glue in between, and although she knew Samara and Robyn were friends, they were friends because of her. She’d rather exclude herself than either of them. It took mere moments for her to decide that Samara should get the position. She probably had, anyway, if the faculty knew Mrs. Crosby at all.

Lyla applauded the new students, just like every year. The Head students were announced-two boys, of course, but neither were objectionable, so Lyla let it go, only rolling her eyes on the inside. She preemptively nudged Samara’s foot underneath the table, giving a congratulatory grin as the headmaster began calling out the prefects. She didn’t hear Samara’s name, though. That was weird. Lyla blinked. Lyla Holland…that was…her? She rose, head swimming, at the urging of her housemates. The roaring in her ears drowned out the clamor of Cascade Hall as she received her pin and sat back down. This wasn’t right. It was supposed to be Samara. Someone wrote it down wrong, or Headmaster Brockert needed new eyeglasses or something. He was quite old. Lyla would put it right later, talk to Professor Skies and get it switched over. Samara might not get the big Opening Feast announcement and applause, but she’d get that badge!

Lyla’s reverie was broken by a hoarse demand for Jello. A first-year, pale as death and somehow less lively. Grim, the fitting name echoed through Lyla’s recent memory, a hand pointing to the jiggly stuff just out of reach.

“Oh,” she said, “Would you like me to pass you the Jello? Here you go.”

She supposed that she ought to at least make herself helpful to the first years until the badge shone on Samara’s chest instead of hers. She would feel guilty if their first impression of a prefect was somebody who didn’t care. Feeling rather put out but putting on a brave face, she opted to be friendly, as well.

“Where are you from? I’m from Colorado, but I’ve been all over.”
64 Lyla Holland This will not do 1559 0 5

Grim Noir

May 29, 2024 2:36 AM
Grim made a mental note of the older student's phrase correction - pass me the jello would be their go to in future - and accepted the item hungrily, dumping a portion on their plate and taking a bite before realizing they were being spoken to. The student who had passed the jello to them was a prefect, a role Grim only vaguely understood from the orientation information they'd received previously, and clearly several years older than they were, but still chose to speak with them. Of course, everyone in Grim's life up until this point had been older than they were, but the gap was usually closer to half a century than half a decade.

They gazed with wide eyes at their new housemate for a moment, trying to assess the girl. Her hair was the sort of soft, fluffy, shiny stuff Grim had always wanted and fallen far short of. Her flushed skin and pulse beating in her throat naturally drew Grim's notice but she paid them no attention; there was no need for that here. There wasn't honestly that much need for it at home either but they did try to keep up appearances of being helpful.

"Louisiana," Grim replied hoarsley. "French quarter," they added. "Have you... been?"
22 Grim Noir Yes. It will. 1599 0 5

Lyla Holland

June 01, 2024 11:53 PM
The newly inducted Crotalus next to her seemed…odd? Like they weren’t used to speaking. One awkward pause later, Lyla learned her dinner companion was from Louisiana. New Orleans, down on the south side of the state. She shook her head at the question attached.

“We were stationed at Barksdale, in Bossier Parish, when I was seven- but that’s more north. We were going to take a road trip to New Orleans that summer, but we got PCS’ed…I mean, we had to move before it happened,” she clarified, remembering that civvies didn’t speak in acronyms. She stifled a sigh. It sometimes seemed that the military had an overly complicated acronym for everything. TDY-Temporary Duty (which didn’t even make sense as an acronym because there was no “Y” word) and PCS- Permanent Change of Station- were the two that made Lyla’s stomach sink when she heard them. They meant either Dad was leaving or she needed to start saying goodbye to whatever friends she’d managed to scrape together since the last move. That was one advantage of Sonora. Sure, your friends were scattered during the summer, but for nine glorious months of the year you got to see them every day for seven whole years.

“What sort of things do you like to do in the French Quarter?” Lyla asked, hoping to cover up her wistfulness with false cheerfulness. She didn’t need to dump her emotional trauma about moving all the time on a little first year. First years really were getting smaller every year. Reluctantly, Lyla thought that maybe she had grown taller this summer, like her mother had proclaimed loudly one morning. Lyla had been more preoccupied with her shirts growing tighter around her chest than her legs sprouting up beneath her. She felt a bit gangly sitting next to Grim. Reaching for a dinner roll, she used the movement to slouch a little to lessen the height gap.
64 Lyla Holland I suppose you're right 1559 0 5