International Women's Day Errand

Interacting with @Erin Ryan

Word Count: (522+814)1336/1000

Oliver looked at Erin, taking a moment to understand her "the hell man?". His stomach sank as he accepted the responsibility for being the reason Erin was crying, and the first time he'd ever seen her cry too. Oliver was like dough to his core and didn't enjoy upsetting other people. Although he was currently building a shell, toughening up, even fighting back and throwing mean words, he had a heart as big and soft as his butt cheek. Oliver had looked at the book he had given her and believed he had figured why Erin might be so upset.

"Oh yeah! Jolly, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot you're better than me at Herbology. Sorry must be conscending- condescending! To have me think you need your homework done for you when you uh... could probably get higher marks doing it yourself. It's just you're busy often these days so I figured..."

Oliver first wiped his palm before leaning forward to give Erin a pat on the shoulder. It wasn't something he'd ever done in his life, social interactions was not an area Oliver had much knowledge in. He was shorter than Erin, being only five foot high, three inches smaller than her. His puberty growth spurt still not kicking in yet, so the hand on the shoulder was a high reach. As he leaned in, he glanced at his letter and it clicked that this was not as simple as he had thought. Oliver produced a thought that he was not developed enough mentally to usually do. He placed himself in Erin's shoes. He imagined how she must feel hearing this stuff. Oliver often considered Erin's troubles being so outcast in school but he always just skipped over them. He was sure Erin was doing fine. Yet now, seeing her so wobbly and tearful, he came to a realization. Getting into fights so often, angering others, did anyone even like her any more than people liked Oliver? Instead of a pat, Oliver held Erin's shoulder. He gave it a light squeeze.

Whoa, gosh...

Oliver had never felt proper muscle before. He was impressed. He shook his head a fraction to retain his thoughts. He would not let go of his new found awareness. Understanding Erin was extremely important to him, likely because he never had a real friend before. Even if there friendship was quite one-sided.

"I guess I have to make up for all the times you made me sob over the years, huh?"

Oliver grinned cheekily, his tongue sticking out a bit to show he was only goofing with her. He'd retain this smile but his eyes begun to also tear up too. He wasn't going to cry, he was just a bit upset realizing that Erin was really upset on a much deeper level than just homework. He didn't want to bring up being aware of it though, he doubted he could handle processing such deep emotions in a conversation. He'd take his hand off her shoulder once the eye contact became awkward and straightened up. He handed her the textbook with its attached letter.

Crying was weird, as if dehydration from the escape of water through the eyes released sadness or expressed happiness. But it also filled her nose, breaths came out in sniffles . She tried to repress it, the tears and the emotional response but she did not know how. She might have even been partially successful, she had no previous experience to compare this one to. 

"Oh yeah! Jolly, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot you're better than me at Herbology. Sorry must be conscending- condescending! To have me think you need your homework done for you when you uh... could probably get higher marks doing it yourself. It's just you're busy often these days so I figured..."

Yeah, that was it. Totally it. She nodded with another sniffle, the noise made her toes curl a bit. It seemed incredibly loud to her. "I-it's great..." she muttered, her mouth full of marbles. The hand on the shoulder was weird, he would get a handful of pure muscle, while the girl was barely 100 pounds she was nothing but bone and muscle. She lacked the softness of her peers, especially the girls with their soft curves and their baby fat. She felt inanimate, like a statue that had been given life and motion. "It is perfect," she confirmed.

"I guess I have to make up for all the times you made me sob over the years, huh?"

"Hmm?"

She did not get it. Oliver never really understood what Erin was. And in all honesty, she never really understood what people were. An emotion for one who has not felt it might be something one could describe in a way, but describing happiness or sorrow is like explaining music to a deaf man or color to a blind man. Yes, there was something felt vicariously, like a father that always wanted to play football and lived that dream through his son. There was something that she even stole, just the aroma. Just a shadow. A shade of what it was. Joy often fleeting, love often feigned and friendship often convenient. All she understood was the shades of misery and wrath. It was hard to fathom 'sobbing' much like it was difficult for her to consider his weight in her chest. This burden she did not quite understand. It was guilt.

She rubbed her eyes with the side of her hand, it left a black streak. Shit, mascara. "Fuck, I am sorry about that," she announced. "Never really considered..." that she was leaving anyone sobbing or aggrieved beyond the moment of their interaction. She felt a bit sick, like there was a build-up of bile in the back of her throat. She accepted the book and the note, muttering "--thanks." She looked Oliver over. He was not bad, but he made even Erin look not entirely socially awkward. 

"You..." she took a breath, the tears were starting to dry up. Maybe she was not as sad any more. Maybe she was not as happy? Maybe they ran out. She was not sure how tears worked, just that they existed like unicorns. "Should try walking the grounds before classes in the morning," she announced quickly as she adjusted the book with the one she already had in her hand that she forgot she was even carrying. It did not matter how socially awkward he was if he had a handsome face, most people did not care as long as someone looked good. Erin of course being an exception. She was gorgeous, she knew it. She was just too rotten to be anything but completely alone. He actually had a chance. 

Interacting With: @Erin Ryan

Word Count: (1336+584)1920/1000

Oliver squinted when the mascara wiped along her face, he had always thought that Erin's eyelashes were naturally that black and defined. It took him a moment to figure out what it actually was to wipe across her face, not even fully aware of what mascara was. Girls are so weird. Oliver passed on replying to her response to his tease. He felt bad that he reminded her that she made him cry. Even though she should feel bad, Erin was his friend now and the bullying should just be put behind them. Right? Oliver didn't like to think about it, he was past that now and even had a friend. Besides, his poking attack probably made up for a several months of the bullying anyway.

"You... Should try walking the grounds before classes in the morning."

Oliver raised a brow. He was having déjà vu, probably remembering a time Erin said something similar but in a much crueler tone, back when she still bullied him. He smiled and looked down at his belly. He had come to accept he was quite very chubby only recently and had started thinking of solutions. The majority of the reasons was watching girls like Dymphna still interested in guys like Reid, even after carrying them out of a fiery hall with mortal wounds. Or at least he thought she was. It was for this reason that he had been looking into ways to become more Reid-like. He even tried to follow the boy for a weekend but he couldn't keep up with him for even a short period of time. He should have came to Erin sooner, now seeing and even feeling (oh boy!) how muscular she was, if he could translate her body to him, he'd be a hulk! Just thinking about this was replacing Oliver's awkwardness with a rev of excitement. He clapped his hands as he started planning.

"Hey, is that your secret to becoming so freaking ripped? It can't be that easy, or is it? No, cause you play sports! I've been thinking of signing up for Quiditch actually, you're a Quiditch pro, right? I know you are cause I go to your every game, I even watch you train sometimes! I wasn't meant to tell you that, heh. But really I'd be just walking by most times. And yeah I was thinking maybe I could play too, I don't think I'd be nimble enough to be a chaser and I really doubt I could be a beater like you. But a keeper I could do! I can take a beating easy and I'm good at tracking with my eyes! I checked the listings though, I'd be on the waiting list for try outs but there's no spots left. Anyway maybe you can be the one who helps me lose my chub chub and eventually turns me into a monster!" Oliver cackles and begins to punch the air but tires out after a few swings.

The entire speech was not usual Oliver but only Erin would recognize it, he only let one of those out when comfortable and excited, which he never was with others. As it furthered it quickened in pace until you really had to be attentive to follow. Oliver was speaking this whole time walking out with Erin. He had just assumed they were leaving together. He'd go on talking and rambling, happy to have company even for a minute.

[Oliver attempts to leave, following Erin out.]

((Interacting with @Breana Oliveire ))

The very idea of trying to resist books- particularly, when one's family owned a shop full of them- made Pericles feel vicariously mischievous. He had been raised with respect for his folks, but so too had they instilled in him a strong sense of curiosity. "Wellllll..." he drawled gently, shrugging his shoulders while peering up and away with faux innocence, "...if you make sure your fingers are spotless, and you don't open the books all the way, I'm confident customers would be none the wiser." That the chocolate frog seemed adequate payment pleased him. As soon as it was taken, the lad slid the blue-backed parchment across the table, suggesting "She really likes lotuses, my mum, but anything'll do really."

Upon hearing of the happiness Breana's father felt for Hogwarts, the pureblood casually (if carelessly) asked "What House was he in? I would wager he was a Ravenclaw like us." Yet she went on to explain that she- and even her mother- had both had a muggle parent. Peri's gaze gradually grew round again. "Really?" he breathed, perhaps with too much intrigue, as though she claimed she'd ridden a unicorn. This did not draw any animosity from the young pure-blood, though he could not help the blatant wonder painted plain as the freckles on his face. It was worn until he heard of the bias Misses Oliveire had faced because of this. The thought summoned an abrupt and uneasy frown, one tinged with sympathy when he caught the tender lilt of melancholy, and Peri pried his eyes from the page to contemplate the young witch across the way. He stared for some seconds in silence before gesturing down at the book. "D'you mind if I look through this...?"

Come a green light, Peri marked her page with a scrap of parchment, saving the spot before flipping to an index. He scanned the names there with the swiftness of one who spent a good deal of time with his nose in a book. Then, after turning to what he hoped was the proper page, skimmed the series of animated faces before exclaiming lowly "There!" The young wizard pointed down at a dour bloke, whose picture was layered with a scroll which read Isaac Dralt. He was both very similar and very different from the boy. While they shared angular features, a shock of snowy hair, and those same strange silver eyes: the older Dralt's stare was haunting, sunken and ringed with shadows of deep exhaustion. He looked awfully old for a seventh-year. Though Dralt Senior scowled up at them, looking irked by the light shining upon his page, Pericles contemplated the picture with warm admiration and unwavering fondness. He recounted softly, "My father was a Slytherin prefect. He played for the Quidditch team too- as Keeper- and had top-notch grades. He became an Auror after graduation. Someday, I mean t'do the same...."

The younger Dralt watched his father's portrait grimace for a few moments more before turning back to Breana's mother. As he returned the book, he mumbled with a twinge of unease that contrasted his soft smile, "It seems as though you and I have some large shoes to fill. But I am glad to've met you too, Breana. I think we will be seeing more of each other. If you ever need help finding your way around the grounds, or if you'd ever like to study together, please don't hesitate to ask." The cordial invitation concluded with another of those pearly beams. He hadn't gotten to know any of his own Housemates all too well just yet, but the eleven-year-old was starting to realize he might be better off trying to make more friends.

Interacting with @Pericles Dralt
Current word count: First post (559) + Second post (419) + Third post (279) = 1,257 [Stopped counting, but will still post until the end of the interaction.]

She couldn't help but giggled at Pericles's ideas on being a bit more stealthier while perusing her family shop's information-filled merchandise. Breana wasn't one to break the rules, though she does feel the rules laid out from her father feels a bit lax, considering he's her father after all."Noooo, don't give me such ideas..." She laughed. She lowered her voice in a bit of a comedic way as she continued. "Though I will keep that in mind!" She then looked down at parchment, still a bit shocked he even considered her simple doodles as good. Heck, aside from her parents, no one even noticed her doodles in that way before. Still, she's happy to help out a fellow student, so she started drawing. She can only vaguely remember what lotuses look like, so she just drew normal flowers with pointed petals instead.

Breana was ready to kick herself in the face. She didn't tell him beforehand that her father was a muggle, so now there's this awkward exchange from the two of them as she explained her bloodline situation. Breana hasn't encountered any of the bloodline prejudice her mother warned her about, but she still warned the little girl nonetheless. It was a sensitive subject for her mother, so Breana doesn't know the possible horrors of such discrimination just yet. "Ah, er... y-yeah." She chuckled awkwardly. "My dad's a muggle and stuff... I didn't have anyone teaching me about the Wizarding World except for Mom, and even she got some trouble just from getting books in the muggle world. I didn't got any proper training until I got here in Hogwarts." Breana shrugged, as if someone smuggling in books from the wizarding world was a normal occurrence.

She raised her eyebrow, watching the young Ravenclaw perused through the book. "Who're you looking for...?" Breana blinked in surprise as she saw Pericles in the book for a second, slowly realizing that this was his father. She rubbed the back of her neck, the picture's stare giving her an uneasy chill similar to staring down a dark hallway. "Oh... wow... Sounds like he... doesn't have that much free time, huh?" She chuckled softly. "Seriously though, he sounds like a hardworking guy... It's kinda cool that he did all of that." She said as she happily took the book, but sets it in between the two of them for easier access. Breana looked over at Pericles, trying to sneak in a long look at him. She shook her head, trying to focus on the lotus doodles, though it's a bit tough for the little girl, since shes feeling her stomach turning into knots as her brain in racking up if she's making a good impression of herself to him.

She looked back at Pericles as he spoke up again. She nodded thoughtfully at his words. "Heh, yeah... these are some pretty big shadows we're living in... Who would've thought we'd meet each other, eagles with snake parents?" She grinned. Breana felt her tan and freckled cheeks heat up again, at a bit of lost for words as he flashed her a genuine smile. "O-oh... w-well, I uh--" She cleared her throat, looking back down at her little artwork, hiding her blushing face as she worked on the doodle he promised him. "I-i'm... I'm glad that I met ya too, Peri... and sure! Suresuresure, we can, uh... do the hanging up--out!! Hanging out...side... and studying for stuff like...transfigulation--f-figuration! And... all that jazz..." She winced at her own words, cursing at her own tongue-tied brain.

((Interacting with @Breana Oliveire))

Pericles wrinkled his nose and shrugged his shoulders, a vague impishness hinted in his otherwise mellow smile. He couldn't help giving others ideas, mischievous or no, when it came to encouraging exploration. While Brea began to draw, he resumed prodding braille into parchment. The lad was satisfied: he had a hands-on project to preoccupy himself, was exercising experimental knowledge, and getting to know someone new. When the little witch's lineage was breached however, he set his quill down completely. Bright eyes watched with wide marvel. It wasn't as if the boy had never seen a muggle. He had traveled with his folks for years, eaten in muggle restaurants, brushed with muggle technology. Yet he had never made a muggle acquaintance, let alone a half-blooded friend. It may be that his strange staring did nothing for the poor girl's awkward explanation. At the end however, he asked low and slow, volume hushed in his excitement: "Does your dad have a mobile telephone?"

It hardly mattered to him that the man hadn't attended Hogwarts. Pericles was teeming with a fresh wave of excitement, the ghost of his smile still lingering on his lips while he waited for an answer. Having tuned the yearbook back to Breana's mother, he gestured towards it and carried on in a wistful way, "I wish mine would use one. I've read all about them, and once, I saw a muggle using theirs to talk to someone else face-to-face. Like a video, but in real time. They sound painfully practical." The compliment his father was afforded prompted a smaller smile this time. With a reluctant nod, the young wizard confessed, "Da does like to stay busy, even now while he isn't in the Ministry, but he always finds time for mum and I. She was a Ravenclaw too." That book was given a glance, and he wondered whether or not his mother's face also occupied its pages, then began to question if the parents of other students he knew may be as well. Peri was briefly tempted to find out, mind straying to the handful of students he was coming close to calling "friend", but decided against it. It seemed somewhat invasive to go digging for their histories without them around, even if a number of names stood out in his head.

Breana's stammers and flushing were all interpreted as a case of the nerves, or even an impending illness, but Peri made the effort to appear more genial than off in cuckoo land. He made certain to speak with diligent gentleness so as not to stress her further. How was he to know he may be making matters worse? "You know... the Sorting Hat mentioned my mother and father, but I didn't want to wind up in a house just because they'd been in them. I'd say you and I are right were we were meant to be." Peri rather liked the sound of "hanging out and all that jazz", though the poor boy didn't accurately understand all of what Breana had to say. "Oh- jazz is a music genre!" He seemed excited that this was something he knew. "I'm afraid it isn't studied here, but I do like Transfiguration. It's the most thorough class we have, in my opinion." The note of approval this carried implied the boy didn't dread the challenge; he enjoyed it. "I would be glad to study with you some time. Thank you again for your drawing, by the way. I could go on all day about transfiguration, but I wouldn't know where t'start with a flower."

Interacting with @Pericles Dralt

As Breana continued to draw the lotus flowers on the parchment, she can feel herself getting into the groove of drawing the flowers. Now realizing a vision (even with her low skills), she tries her best to execute it on the paper. However, it came to a quick halt as her ears did perked up as she turned to the boy, blinking for a moment at his question. "Huh? Mobile... Oh! You mean the smartphone?" She asked, looking up as she tried to remember. "Yeah, everyone in my family had one, but mom kept mine back at home, 'cause of tech getting all broken up here." Breana watched as Pericles started talking with excitement for something that felt like such a common item in her life. She forgot that there would be kids in Hogwarts that never experienced things such as smartphones and television. She wondered what it would be like, to have been a pureblood herself and never experienced the muggle world.

"Real time video...? Oh! Video calling!" She chuckled, finding it slightly amusing that he explained it like that. "Yeah, they are really practical, but you'd have to pay for the coverage on the video call-- " She stopped for a moment, trying to think if she should explain coverage fees to him. "Erm, coverage fees..." She said, scratching her head. "You kinda pay those for the utility poles and stuff... Uh, yeah..." She said, stopping at coverage fees to avoid the endless void that is explaining muggle world technology to the young wizard.

She nodded as Peri told her more about his family. She was about to pat him on the back, but quickly retreated her hand, feeling it might be too awkward to do to someone she just met. "Well, I'm sure your parents are super proud with what you've done so far... and yeah! I guess we are where we need to be!" She grinned, but then giggled a bit as she chimed up about jazz, her stuttering and flustered look slowly fading away. "Aah!! Nonono!" She exclaimed. She couldn't help but laugh a bit more, with a tinge of humorous regret since she was the one that started this train of thought. "I-I'm sorry, hahaha... It was just an expression." She let her laughter die softly, clearing her throat before she continued. "I'm really sorry about that... but! It'd be nice... just hanging out still... And if you like jazz, hey! We can still have it a listen!" She said playfully.

She let out a sigh of relief as she was reminded of Transfiguration. "I'm grateful for Professor Lian, but her homework takes up a heaping ton of time! I mean, I passed by the class fine and stuff, but not without some free time sacrificed for it." Breana smiled at Pericles, nodding at his offer at a study session. Despite being a Ravenclaw, this might be the first time she'd be invited to a study session, even including the housemates that she already knew. "I might take you up on that offer. I might need to bump up my grade in Potions." She turned her attention back to the doodling, holding it up to give it one last long look before showing it towards Pericles. "Iiii think that about does it now? I tried my best, at least." She said, smiling at her little doodles. "... Honestly, I think you overpaid me with the choco frogs." She laughed.

Interacting with @Persephone Barret and @Ruthie Greer

Ruthie looked positively shocked at her gift, Margo thought, but she nodded at the girl in reply nonetheless. So what? This gift giving business didn’t mean she was a nice person or anything. She was just making sure her dorm didn’t drown in her creations, that was all.

But one creation was drowning all by itself.  In glitter. And it’s maker did not go well with sparkles.

Margo would know, for she too had tried some outrageously sparkly clothes in her time. But somehow she got the sense that this girl loathed the very card she had laid her hands on, her motive hidden like a cunning snake in the grass. The issue was, this snake seemed more miserable teen than evil mastermind. To sit alone in a room radiating enthusiasm whilst filled with such poorly hidden disregard was not a way Margo would want to spend her time. It did fill her with undeniable curiosity about the girl, though. Maybe that was her motive. The possibilities were endless, after all. 

Was is bitterness that soured her view or a mere lack of empathy? Her manner proved that she believed feminism an unworthy  recipient for her attention, but Margo wanted to know why. Did she deem gender equality an unnecessary cause, or a lost one? Perhaps both. Maybe with a change of attitude equality would be achievable, and therefore unnecessary. But if this girl truly believed as much, why was she smearing glitter on an innocent piece of parchment by herself? Was she like Margo, striving to be different in a crowd? Or perhaps she just shone the beam of her condescension upon those who didn’t. Margo wasn’t sure if that spotlight had stretched to encompass her as well, but if it had, she wanted it gone. Immediately. 

“Oh I couldn’t agree more. Just shove an arrogant, overbearing man out of your way and be done with it.” She didn’t have to fake the hint of approval in her voice. 

“But you’d want it to be his problem, right?” She drawled. “If you kicked a guy out of your path you’d want him to be the one worrying about it. You inflicted it, but I guarantee your footprint on his face would be his pain.” 

Margo paused, smirking. “So, a female who isn’t able to merely shove their male tormentor out of the way in self defense - and let’s be honest and say this is a more common situation than the reverse - you’re saying it’s the guy’s problem if she gets hurt? And let’s include this in both serious physical cases and mild discriminative  cases. Either way, it seems like she’s the one suffering, even though she didn’t do anything wrong.” 

She turned back to her own card, happy with the muddy paw print on the the exterior and started to scrawl messily inside. It had not been a boring morning, and for that she was thankful. 

Word Count: 701 + 497 = 1198
Errand Complete!

[font=Bradley Hand ITC]Dear Momma ‘Liza,[/font]

[font=Bradley Hand ITC]I miss you so much. I’ve had such a great time here, I’ve made so many friends, and though I wish I could be there for you and our family after Great aunty Elizabeth died, I have to be here growing smarter by the hour. I send my prayers and all my love to you and the family, and again I wish I could be there.[/font]

[font=Bradley Hand ITC]All my love, [/font]

[font=Bradley Hand ITC]Wren[/font]

[font=Bradley Hand ITC]Dear Lee, [/font]

[font=Bradley Hand ITC]Happy International Women’s Day!! I can’t believe how strong a woman you are. You are the most amazing person I have ever met in my entire life. Man, I wish I could be the way you are. You are so brave, kind and compassionate. I hope you have an amazing day and time![/font]

[font=Bradley Hand ITC]Wren[/font]

WWC: 449 + 247(Another Thread) + 370 = 1,066; Errand Complete!

Interacting with @Breana Oliveire

Pericles was hardly the sort to mind a correction. He thrived off of new information, no matter how minute, uttering low "Oh!"s and slow nods to the terms. He deduced that the Oliveries must be a well-to-do family, seeing as all of them had their own "smartphone", a theory made more credible by the coming facts. His eyes glazed in a clueless kind of way at the mention of "utility poles", though this was rapidly recovered from. Carefully, seeking to affirm he understood, the lad ventured: "You have to pay to use them, after you've bought them...?" The concept struck him as unfair, even extortionate. He paused to ponder how wealthy they must be before saying with a short shug, "Well, I suppose that's sort of like owls, isn't it? Paying for feed and grooming and so on. I use a portrait to talk to my parents, but I think I would like to have a smart phone too someday." The boy's mouth coiled impishly at the thought. A pure-blood with a mobile telephone? The scandal!

Having resumed prodding paper, Peri thought little of the fleeting reach and retract from Breana. His expression softened again as she proposed his parents were proud, a comment he answered with only an appreciative smile, though it had sent him speculating. They had written to say how happy they were with the milestones he reached. But if they knew the extent of self-censoring he did in his letters, leaving out all mention of covert investigations and rendezvous to swap secrets with students, would they still be proud...? Before he could spiral down an internal debate, the prospect of hanging out pulled him to the present.

Breana's laugh broadened his smile; he wasn't sure what humorous at first, but he clearly wanted to understand so he could be in on the joke too "Please don't be sorry," the boy insisted lightly, waving the apology away with a gesture. "I would like to learn more muggle expressions. You're incredibly fortunate, did you know? Even though you weren't learning magical matters at home, you're learning them here, and you come with all sorts of muggle knowledge most of us don't have. You've had the opportunity to experience both worlds as a..." he was reluctant to say half-blood at all; while not a slur, the term was rooted in old and cruel ideologies. "...well, as someone still very young. I don't think I'll understand the muggle world 'til I'm old enough to go see it for myself. What if we trade? I'll help you with homework if you would help me with ah, 'independent muggle studies'."

The paper poking ceased. Pericles took a moment to skim his work, which he could not read without a key, but it seemed uniform enough. The braille had pressed through perfectly, not breaking the parchment while still indented enough to be "legible". He peered up again as Breana mentioned Professor Lian, to which the Ravenclaw enthused bluntly- almost too seriously- "She is one of the most powerful witches I have ever seen. I've never known anyone who could cast flawless nonverbals without sight- transfiguration spells no less!" With a shake of his head, Peri glued the poked parchment to the bold red construction paper, then folded it for a proper letter. The note meant for his mother was taken back and admired. He hummed a happy note in his throat, shaking his head when she claimed he'd overpaid. "Nonsense. This is perfect." Red and blue stacked, book closed, tools tucked back into his bag, the boy started to stand. Perfectly pleased, he reached for a farewell shake, saying with a content airiness that could be mistaken for sleepiness or distraction: "Thank you for your help, Breana. You've made my letter look really nice. I'm going to go see about sending these off, but I'll see you soon, right? And, Happy International Witch's Day."

((Exiting scene))