Same time next year? open

Oliver felt as if the room was getting more tense by the second, with accusations that Saunders was going after binmen. It felt as if to Oliver at least, that Brian was quite passionate about this. And that Saunders was ignorant on the topic. Even Oliver knew about such careers. He had to stifle a laugh at what might have been a rushed response from Saunders, a quick attempt to cool the temperature, so to speak. "Personally, I have a.." He paused trying to find the right word for his feelings. "Respect?" He wasn't sure if that was it exactly, but it would work well enough for this. "Yes, respect, without them I suppose the Muggle world would be quite dirty." He didn't know a whole lot about the muggle word.

He sighed and shook his head at Brian's response, to his own response, about his name feeling almost as if the boy in front of him was trying to act like he knew more about it then him. Oliver didn't say things that he didn't mean. "No, No I don't know." He told him a tad tensely. But took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "I'm sure it's just a mere coincidence about the shared name. Plenty of people have the same names without having a relation." He told him. Plainly, tone stern. He was proud of his name, and didn't want it being dragged through the mud, even if that wasn't the intention. His family was far better then whatever Armani Brian was talking about.

Something Oliver should have expected, them ganging up on him now. Seamed to be a trend in the cart, taking turns jumping on one another about one thing, then switching to someone else about another thing, having gotten on Saunders case with the binman comment. Then it seamed Oliver's turn, for simply noting the higher quality items. A silly reason of course. "My dear Brian," He said trying to lighten the blow, in a condescending tone clear on his voice. "You haven't had the che-" He stopped himself clearing his voice, almost having said cheep quills. He didn't think that would go along well with this group.

"The regular quills." He corrected himself. Now, to Oliver deluxe was the normal ones. He'd had the 'normal' ones before, and of course they tasted far worse. Not really, Oliver was just a bit spoiled. They did last longer yes, but they were better in many ways. The slight price increase was worth it if one asked him. He shook his head and looked over at Saunders, who was arguing? He didn't know what argument Saunders was having. But Oliver was simply having a conversation on it. "Ah, No one is arguing. Simply making conversation." He nodded. They were stuck there for a while together, so talking was the reasonable thing.

Brian was now asking the real questions, what did Saunders mean by his own? Saunders again looked and sounded to fumble for an answer. He could not hide his shock, his shock about Brian's potential blood status. "Muggle-born?" He asked, almost not believing it. He looked at Brian. "Are you really muggle born?" Oh great. Just great, Oliver looked Brian up and down, it would explain quite a bit. "That's-" Yet again, Oliver struggled to find the right words to use here. A coming trend it would seam. "something."

OUTFIT & INVENTORY Reducio School robes. wand, rest of belongings in trunk.

OOC NOTE & STATS/ABILITIES Reducio Don't take anything Oliver says IC to heart </3 He's a bit of a jerk at times. Fearless - Oliver does not scare easily, not effected by terrible presence or unsettling aura { Stamina: 7 }{ Evasion: 5 }{ Strength: 10 }{ Wisdom: 3 }{ Arcane Power: 2 }{ Accuracy: 8 }

Interacting : @Saunders Napier, @Brian Gaffey |||| @Yağmur Harrow, @Jack Burnett
: Mentioning

Brian: #572700
Saunders: #84774d
Oliver: #873e23
WC: ca. 600-620 words
Mentioning @Oliver Armani, @Saunders Napier

Brian could sense how uncomfortable the lads had got at his interjection about binmen. If someone from his world had said what Saunders had said, he would've assumed that they were being sarcastic, and he certainly wouldn't have stood for it. However, it dawned on him that these lads probably didn't even know what binmen were, given that their magical world likely didn't have any need for them. Gaffey decided it must have been a misunderstanding, and chose not to speak on it, thinking that it wouldn't do them any good to talk about binmen for much longer. He'd said what he'd said, defended his mate's dad, and even if there were snobbish or sarcastic undertones, he'd give them the benefit of the doubt on account of their different cultures.

Furthermore, it hadn't been his intention to make either of the boys feel uncomfortable, and it didn't seem to Brian as though they had wanted to make him feel uncomfortable either. That constant tension and never-ending expectation of conflict, of a war between the worlds, was so very palpable to the young northerner that he nearly choked on it.

He breathed a faint sigh of relief when the conversation wandered on back to Oliver's surname.

--"I'm sure it's just a mere coincidence about the shared name. Plenty of people have the same names without having a relation."

The blonde boy's response was totally reasonable, to which Brian promptly responded:

--"I know a thousand Smiths and Thompsons but I 'aven't ever 'eard of two Armanis." he laughed, trying to do away with the strained atmosphere, clearly still in disbelief about Oliver's supposed ignorance of Armani as a brand.

Still, it occured to Brian that he might be crossing the line: a person's name was absolutely central to their identity, and going on about it too long could be like waving a red flag in a bull's face. He certainly knew how he'd respond if someone tried to poke fun at his rather dull-sounding Irish name.

Then, the darker-haired boy seized the word again, seemingly in an effort to defuse whatever debate had sprung up about sweets. Thinking it wouldn't be wise to dwell on whether the three of them were having an argument about sugar quills of all things, Brian kept quiet when Oliver said that they weren't. He offered up a docile smile and hoped that would be the end of it.

"Well, I assume that you're a Muggle-born. Right? - If I were to travel to, say, Liverpool... That'd blow my mind. But you seem rather chill."

"What's a muggle?" he responded, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as Brian shifted them from Oliver to Saunders and back and forth He'd only heard the word in passing, but he'd never fully understood what people meant by it. Now, Oliver had already mentioned some terms he wasn't familiar with, but now that Saunders actually called Brian a 'muggle', the Scouser had to find out what that actually meant to contribute anything useful to the conversation. Whereas knowing what a 'floo network' was would've only given Brian some insight into Oliver's journey to London, understanding what a muggle was seemed to be critical, as Gaffey supposedly was one.

From his staggering visit to Diagon Alley and all the shock that came with it, to the long, cumbersome trek to this very cabin, the train journey was supposed to allow him to catch some much-needed rest and slowly get his bearings. In a lot of ways, using muggle transportation to get to Hogwarts was a brilliant means for Gaffey to part with his old life and embrace the new. Being surrounded by wizards in a train carriage, a setting that was very familiar to him more so than to his wizarding peers, would allow him to get acquainted with Hogwarts and the pervasive culture in a calm, natural way.

He could have a chat with children from different backgrounds, as he was precisely doing now, and if he thought he needed a quick nap, his surroundings were safe and recognisable enough not to warrant staying awake the entire trip: Brian had ridden the train countless times before, and felt comfortable enough to catch some shut-eye.

That said, Brian didn't know whether he was particularly 'chill' about going to Hogwarts. He did know that he was exhausted, and that (not to be dramatic) he'd essentially left everything he knew behind in search of a new, better life. The question of why Brian seemed to not be that enthusiastic about attending his new school boomed in his head, and he couldn't quite find an answer to it.

"I just assumed that we're taught everything we're supposed to know. Hogwarts is just like any other school, surely." He thought to himself, his head pulsing at the thought.

He knew that wasn't true, regardless how many times he tried to tell himself. Unbeknownst to Brian, a host of factors held him from asking a thousand questions. His sleepiness was an obvious first, but the fact that he was already on his toes about his cabin-mates was a close second. He didn't know them. The fact that they differed from him so radically, not just in social class but also in blood, background, upbringing and opinion (even about sugar quills) made him cautious not to step out of line. That also came with the fear of annoying the first-ever year-mates he would ever meet by barraging them with a thousand banal questions about a world whose sheer exceptionality they had tasted every living day of their lives so that it had now become categorically mundane to them.

OOC Note:

@Oliver Armani, @Brian Gaffey

There were indeed epochs in history where time stretched languidly, untouched by eventfulness, and fleeting moments when the very fabric of life trembled and was fraught with a dramatic sequence of events. The very second in which Brian, in all seriousness, asked what the word Muggle meant was an example of the latter. It was as though the unbending axis of the world tilted, Saunders exaggerated. True, the wizard boy might have remained oblivious to the term binman, which was apparently a somehow noble profession in the other boy's neighbourhood, yet such ignorance posed no actual, let alone great, hindrance to Saunders. The youngest scion of the Napier family, after all, was not destined to wander the peculiar realm where brooms served the mundane task of sweeping rather than flying. Brian, however, stood poised on the threshold of a world that had remained veiled to his eyes until recently, a world that slowly began to unfurl its mysteries before him. Saunders could not possibly know that the unfurling in question was that slow.

Poor Saunders suddenly forgot the whole course of the conversation that preceded the sentence Brian so normally uttered. Who cared anymore who else had the Armani surname? And under the prevailing circumstances, what sane person could have been so alienated from the real world as to comment on the quality of the various versions of Sugar Quills? "Density tensity bugadoo bugaboo," Saunders thought. Or, to put it more accurately, he could not manage to think anything at all. He sensed that the gears of the cogwheel inside his brain were rattling as if they had been rusting for a long time.

A bewildered expression gently alighted on Saunders' face. He turned his gaze to Oliver's face, seeking some reflection of the tempest stirring within himself. As his thoughts drifted to an evening conversation, he recalled his grandpa's, the wise Horatio's solemn counsel, which was none other than remaining stoic in the face of all circumstances. With quickly renewed resolve, Saunders attempted to grasp at the reins of his willpower, determined to tame the unruly emotions surging through him like a wild and unbridled horse that had never felt the weight of a noose. But before he could work out whether Oliver had caught that brief moment of vulnerability he so desperately sought to draw strength from, his own tongue caught in the burning desire to shatter the fragile silence between the trio.

"A Muggle," the word tumbled out his mouth, "is someone who is not, and never will be, like us." Well, that was quite a discriminatory definition of the word. A judge of political correctness could have sent Saunders to a wizarding reformatory for that remark. Keenly aware of his fondness for personal liberty, Saunders hastened to elaborate on his point. "Someone without magical power," he clarified, "someone who cannot step into Ollivanders and claim a wand." Saunders was itching to say, "Boy, Muggle means everyone you've ever known. Your mother, your father, your neighbour, your friend's father, the binman, the Armani you keep talking about... Every face you've ever seen could be put in a picture dictionary under the word Muggle." But he did surmise that there was no need for such a Beckettian tirade, and even if the opposite were true, this stage was not suitable for such a performance.

"If I offer one more damn example," Saunders mused to himself, "he'll start to think I treat him like a halfwit." Therefore, he chose the sanctuary of silence, his words retreating before they could betray him further. Perhaps, though very doubtful, Oliver might have handled the matter with greater finesse.