First Day Out
♕- Late Afternoon of Sept. 2nd, 2025 | Transfiguration, Hogwarts-♕
Of all the things Alphonse had anticipated upon transferring to Hogwarts, this—feeling like a meek, cowardly lion—was last on his list.
It was only his first official day, and the Toussaint boy was already considering throwing in the towel. The adjustment that came with transferring (or expulsion) was nothing new to the newly-dubbed Gryffindor, but this particular school seemed monumental compared to both Ilvermorny and Castelobruxo. And the accents of the populace here—Alphonse sometimes didn't understand a lick of what his peers were saying. If it hadn't been for the few friends the Toussaint progeny had accumulated thus far from summer camp, the few within his year, his sanity would have suffered.
Not only was Alphonse struggling to locate his classes within Hogwarts' massive walls, and had not yet arrived on time to a single lecture that day, but the Headliner deadline was already encroaching on him too. The Gryffindor couldn't fathom why the hell his mother forced him to get involved—his Herbologist mother claimed it was a way to make friends, but Alphonse was convinced it was surely a punishment for getting expelled. A grudge the spiteful Holticultrust wouldn't ever forgive her eldest for. He wouldn't even have known what the Headliner was exactly if it wasn't for Siobhan explaining, for the gods' sakes.
To say Alphonse was defeated was simply an understatement, but persevere the Toussaint boy would—Not without a fit first, though.
With no one else in sight once Transfiguration class was dismissed, the world fell entirely silent.
"This is some bullshit!" he hissed under his breath, slinging an array of more curses in Kreyol and Portuguese as Alphonse hurled his glasses across the room. Groaning, he blinked through the blur as he tried to strategize a way forward and contemplate which couillon the Gryffindor would strongarm to write these stupid articles for him.——mentions. @Makaio Kāne
——notes. Suprise! Respond at your own pace, chief. Godmod permission was given for Sio.
Remedy.
First Day Out
Makaio dismissed the very first class he had with the newly minted third years. He was a whiz at names and, standing in the back of the class, bid farewell to each of his students using their last name. What good was being a hunter of man if you didn’t know who exactly it was you were hunting. He bristled at the thought, this only being one of a handful of classes he’s taught since being brought on the semester before. That was not his life any longer.
In the hustle and bustle of the stragglers, Makaio transformed into his little furry form and scampered between the tables. He had a break until the next set of students came in and he wanted to get a quick nap in. Teaching was every bit as exhausting as being drenched in the humidity of the Amazon, though perhaps this was less comfortable for him! His track was cut short by a flying pair of…what was it? Glasses? The beady eyed critter looked around and saw there was still a sole student left in his silent classroom.
Taking the glasses in his little tooth mouth, Makaio hopped on a table across the aisle and launched himself at the boy, transforming mid-air, holding the glasses in his hand, and coming to a stop in front of him. “Mr. Toussaint,” the now giant mountain of a hairy man gruffed. He was a transfer student, though he did not know the circumstances, he did know his mother. He would have to remember to ask Sarai about the kid next time they crossed paths which became quite a usual thing for them as he went to the greenhouses regularly. “I believe these are yours, young man.”
He put them gingerly on the table beside the Gryffindor, and, crossing his arms, leaned on the adjacent desk as if thinking deeply about something. “Something bothering you? If you’d like, I can make the problem go away,” he said, joking darkly. What was the point of vanishment if you didn’t…vanish “things.”
In the hustle and bustle of the stragglers, Makaio transformed into his little furry form and scampered between the tables. He had a break until the next set of students came in and he wanted to get a quick nap in. Teaching was every bit as exhausting as being drenched in the humidity of the Amazon, though perhaps this was less comfortable for him! His track was cut short by a flying pair of…what was it? Glasses? The beady eyed critter looked around and saw there was still a sole student left in his silent classroom.
Taking the glasses in his little tooth mouth, Makaio hopped on a table across the aisle and launched himself at the boy, transforming mid-air, holding the glasses in his hand, and coming to a stop in front of him. “Mr. Toussaint,” the now giant mountain of a hairy man gruffed. He was a transfer student, though he did not know the circumstances, he did know his mother. He would have to remember to ask Sarai about the kid next time they crossed paths which became quite a usual thing for them as he went to the greenhouses regularly. “I believe these are yours, young man.”
He put them gingerly on the table beside the Gryffindor, and, crossing his arms, leaned on the adjacent desk as if thinking deeply about something. “Something bothering you? If you’d like, I can make the problem go away,” he said, joking darkly. What was the point of vanishment if you didn’t…vanish “things.”
@Alphonse Toussaint
PC: Dennis Tumberton | iNPC: Maria Leung de Almeida
First Day Out
♕- Late Afternoon of Sept. 2nd, 2025 | Transfiguration, Hogwarts-♕
The very moment the expensive glasses escaped his hand, a sliver of immediate regret coursed through the Toussaint boy's bloodstream.
It was a fit of childlike anguish—the same as any other—and yet much worse. His heart sank at the realization of his crime as a gray mass charged in his direction whilst clutching his 'accidental aerial weapon' between its teeth. Alphonse did not recall such a sleek mammal being present amid Professor Kāne's lecture; surely he would have taken notice. No, the gray mass barrelling towards the Toussaint boy was surely a professor or the Professor himself. An Animagus—Alphonse knew the skill, considering his tio Oziel was a Jamaican Red-Tailed Hawk.
"Mierda.."fuck he drawled, both dry amusement and regret in his tone.
Could his luck get any worse?
A somber sigh heaved from the boy while slowly sliding down his seat in defeat. The last thing the newly-dubbed Gryffindor desired was catching a battery charge on his first day of Hogwarts; his mother would surely kill him now. Alphonse didn't say anything when the gray creature shifted into a hairy behemoth of a man, but his oak-brown gaze remained downcast in shame. Internally, Alphonse was prepared for punishment, a lecture, a trip to the Headmaster's or Head of House's office for his crime. And yet, such would not come. Not yet, anyways.
Alphonse peered upwards when Professor Kāne gingerly returned the glasses and sat across from him, and the boy straightened up at his desk and offered an apologetic smile.
"Yeah...I'm sorry about that, sir," Alphonse responded sheepishly, "Promise I wasn't aimin' at you. It's just been a shit—I mean, a bad day."
A darkened chuckle slipped past the Gryffindor's lips upon hearing Professor Kāne's jest—if it was even a jest at all. Either way, Alphonse accepted the man's kindness for what it was and relaxed in his seat. Pursing his lips in thought for a moment, Alphonse nodded with an exhale of relief before holding the man's gaze: "I'm just stressed. All the changes. Another new school, a new house in Hogsmeade, new baby sisters. I know we'll all go back home to Haiti during breaks and stuff, but I dunno. I miss my old friends. I miss Castelobruxo and Brazil. I miss the way things used to be."
Another drawn-out pause slipped by before reality set back in, and his current overwhelming crisis returned to his already spiralling mind.
"And these damn Headliner articles," he continued with an icy tone, casting a sideways glance to the empty desks around them, "Maman put me on Headliner to give me a creative outlet—make friends. I get it, I appreciate her for it. The deadline is already coming up though, and I don't know shit about this fancy British-English everyone writes in."——mentions. @Makaio Kāne
——notes. ---
Remedy.
First Day Out
Makaio watched as the boy seemed to flit through a myriad of expressions and emotions. One his way over to him, the student seemed resigned, slouching in his chair instead of surprised a furry critter was charging at him. He must have already pieced together who he was and what he was in the time it took him to get airborne. That impressed the professor that such a young person could be so quick witted purely on instinct.
Then, from resignation to…anticipation? The Gryffindor seemed to think some sort of punishment was coming. He reminded the Professor a little bit of a beaten dog. Didn’t he just get here? Surely Sarai raised a more confident son. He’d have to look into the matter later. Why would he get in trouble for having a moment of exasperation.
This Alphonse was really going through the whole gamut of grief. At Makaio’s greeting, the sulky teen seemed to relax when he figured out he wasn’t in trouble, but then took the mountain man’s invitation as a venting opportunity his tone becoming angry and icy. All the big man could do was raise his eyebrows in amusement at the boy who wore his heart on his sleeve. When he wasn’t talking, his body was.
“Well,” Makaio said, clearing his voice. “Brazil is certainly a place to be missed. One time I was on a mission in the amazon. Spent a week tracking down poachers who were after some rare and elusive plant. Never felt more alive…or sweaty for that matter.” He meant the short anecdote to show he can relate to at least one of the places he missed. “In fact. I saw that very flower I rescued in Sarai’s greenhouse,” he chuckled, losing the plot. He quickly course corrected, “The point is, we are all connected and you never know what paths are fated to cross again. I can tell you care deeply for your family and friends. The best thing to do sometimes is to move forward and make more connections in the tapestry of your life.”
Satisfied he was sufficiently and vaguely wise, having regurgitated something his grandfather once told him when he was around Alphonse age. He turned to what the boy said next about being frustrated about being put on by his mother. Honestly, Makaio didn’t think this was a bad decision on Sarai’s part and the fact that Mr. Toussaint so readily caves into his anti-social tendencies, it is probably for the best. He couldn’t tell the kid that, though, could he.
“Well…I could probably make the Headliner, offices, and students disappear…it’s not outside of my ability to do so,” he said seriously, as if he were going to do it in the next instance, “But I don’t think that will solve the problem, huh? British people are posh pricks, we both agree on that point, Mr. Toussaint. Many people have tried and failed to fix that attitude to no avail yet I’m afraid. Perhaps you can write an article about that.” He said that last as a joke but his tone perhaps didn’t match the content.
Then, from resignation to…anticipation? The Gryffindor seemed to think some sort of punishment was coming. He reminded the Professor a little bit of a beaten dog. Didn’t he just get here? Surely Sarai raised a more confident son. He’d have to look into the matter later. Why would he get in trouble for having a moment of exasperation.
This Alphonse was really going through the whole gamut of grief. At Makaio’s greeting, the sulky teen seemed to relax when he figured out he wasn’t in trouble, but then took the mountain man’s invitation as a venting opportunity his tone becoming angry and icy. All the big man could do was raise his eyebrows in amusement at the boy who wore his heart on his sleeve. When he wasn’t talking, his body was.
“Well,” Makaio said, clearing his voice. “Brazil is certainly a place to be missed. One time I was on a mission in the amazon. Spent a week tracking down poachers who were after some rare and elusive plant. Never felt more alive…or sweaty for that matter.” He meant the short anecdote to show he can relate to at least one of the places he missed. “In fact. I saw that very flower I rescued in Sarai’s greenhouse,” he chuckled, losing the plot. He quickly course corrected, “The point is, we are all connected and you never know what paths are fated to cross again. I can tell you care deeply for your family and friends. The best thing to do sometimes is to move forward and make more connections in the tapestry of your life.”
Satisfied he was sufficiently and vaguely wise, having regurgitated something his grandfather once told him when he was around Alphonse age. He turned to what the boy said next about being frustrated about being put on by his mother. Honestly, Makaio didn’t think this was a bad decision on Sarai’s part and the fact that Mr. Toussaint so readily caves into his anti-social tendencies, it is probably for the best. He couldn’t tell the kid that, though, could he.
“Well…I could probably make the Headliner, offices, and students disappear…it’s not outside of my ability to do so,” he said seriously, as if he were going to do it in the next instance, “But I don’t think that will solve the problem, huh? British people are posh pricks, we both agree on that point, Mr. Toussaint. Many people have tried and failed to fix that attitude to no avail yet I’m afraid. Perhaps you can write an article about that.” He said that last as a joke but his tone perhaps didn’t match the content.
@Alphonse Toussaint
I have to go. But i think Makaio would offer to meet Al another time to do something or other if we wanted to drive toward that connection.
PC: Dennis Tumberton | iNPC: Maria Leung de Almeida
First Day Out
♕- Late Afternoon of Sept. 2nd, 2025 | Transfiguration, Hogwarts-♕
British posh pricks—Professor Kāne wasn't wrong in the spoken sentiment, but Alphonse's insatiably curious mind lingered upon the burly man's snippet of an anecdote regarding perilous adventures in the Amazon.
Makaio diverted his advice's course, much to Alphonse's slight disappointment, by implying that everything was interwoven in some delicate balance, and to move forward and trust. It was solid advice—nothing that Alphonse hadn't heard before from his spiritual mother, but something about this Makaio also saying it gave words a more personable justification. The Haitian teen nodded in silent understanding and sat up straighter in the desk, possibly looking a bit more proud and confident than before.
How ironic it was that the first professor the Haitian boy would meet was a kindred spirit who would also be from Alphonse's former neck of the woods? Perhaps the burly mountain man was correct about interconnectedness...
A wicked smirk replaced the scowl that had formerly touched his lips in a newfangled air of amusement at the man's following statements, and a chuckle had slipped past his grin: "If I notice anything...or anyone from the Headliner team missing, trust that my lips are sealed. Only if you tell me more about your Amazon adven—"
A horde of students had begun to swiftly trickle into the Transfiguration classroom and take to their seats, and Alphonse's words quickly died off upon the realization the boy ate up all of Professor Kāne's free time between lectures. With an apologetic glance, the pubescent boy began to stuff his books and belongings into his backpack in a disorganized and hurried fashion before snaking out from the desk.
His brown eyes widened slightly at the monumental size of the professor hunched over before him, initially too distracted with his woes to notice until the present moment.
"Damn, big man. Next time I'm in a fight, I hope you're in my corner," he said immediately, almost too casually. The boy's tone shifted, quieter and firmer, more grounded. "Thank you for this, by the way. I appreciate it," the Gryffindor replied before quickly dabbing the Professor up and parading towards the door with a confident stride.
A flower—a rare and elusive plant somehow now remained as part of his mother's collection in one of her greenhouses after all this time. Alphonse's turbulent mind wouldn't forget this part of Makaio's story of rescuing it, and the Haitian boy would take a mental note to inquire his mother about it later and see it for his own eyes. Perhaps reunite Professor Kāne with his long lost friend in the process.
If this life was a grand tapestry, as Makaio said, what was Alphonse if not but a thread?——mentions. @Makaio Kāne
——notes. until next time, big man
Remedy.