CYUT Errand Group 2 PV Closed

MOD NOTE: Accidentally forgot to take Xailah Alptraum off the ping list, apologies for the ping. I have added @Jake Morris into this group.

The part-giant ducked down as he entered through the classroom door, shooting a nasty look at the wooden frame as if it had been sentient and purposefully obstructing his way. This entire castle was obstructing his way of life. But the little magic flowing through his enlarged veins was supposed to be taught to control itself, so here he wandered. Upon his entrance, he immediately met eyes with the professor, giving the teacher a respectful nod and a half-baked smile. Hugh pointed at the door behind him as he lean on one leg. “They make them quite small for my kind, you see…” It quickly dawned upon him that the matter was either clearly obvious or utterly of no worth to mention to the Dark Arts professor. Shoulders sagging a bit, he shook his head and looked the other way. “Never mind.” he coughed as he walked over to the table with supplies.

There were plenty of sheets and pencils around. Hugh grabbed a chunky looking piece of wood and grabbed three pieces of paper in case he was supposed to show people more than one drawing. Which he wasn't hoping for in the least, the fewer questions asked, the better. He was just here to play 'nice'. A quality that obviously anyone that knew him would immediately associate with the likes of him. It was not like there had been an entire article about the nefarious effects of giants on school grounds and the great danger they pose to the 'regular' student body. Then again, even if he had been normal… Hugh very well knew his own temper wasn't helping either.

Like a heavy sack of meat, Hugh's body collapsed onto one of the seven chairs. Waiting for others to arrive and see what they had come up with. He wasn't planning on drawing anything if he was going to be the only one to show up. He sure as hell had no plans to become friends with a teacher. Hugh's eyes carefully slid sideways to check what the professor was doing, which seemed pretty much the same thing he'd been doing from the start. Waiting. It was eerily suspicious, wasn't it? They way, some people could just… stand there and be friendly. He did not trust it one bit. Besides, that was a villain's suit if ever he'd seen one. But Hugh could play along as long as they liked. Keep up the pretence that everything was 'nice'. Ohhh, how he loathed being 'nice'. It was absolutely infuri- Oh? Were those brownies? Brownies were… He would have to admit they were… well… NICE.

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Word Count: 313

Rachel arrived at the entrance of the classroom feeling both nervous and excited. It's been a long time since she held a flute and a long time since she played it. So there was no guarantee that she still knows how to use it. To be fair, she only plays the flute whenever she's bored and wasn't aiming to be the most skilled. Upon looking around the selected location, she was met by various materials and supplies, which she guesses are for the errand, placed on a table and another round table with seven chairs in the center. There were two people already present inside. One which Rachel recognizes as the Professor of defence against the dark arts teacher and the others a student.

Perhaps a Gryffindor but not familiar to her. Stepping inside, she greeted the professor and the other student with a smile before going to the table with various items settled there. She looked and examined the trinkets, music box, and many more before approaching the two hard-shelled cases and opening them, practically having stars in her eyes as she picked up the wooden flute one. She can play both types but is more familiar with using the wooden flute than the metal flute. Closing the cases, Rachel played a little tune to practice before leading her way to the round table and sitting down in one of the chairs to wait for the others to arrive.

It was silent except for her humming quietly and fiddling with her flute while glancing around the classroom every now and then. She was eyeing the brownies, confused as to why they were there but thought that maybe its a little snack or something. Not that she was complaining. She glanced at the wood and papers brought by the tall student on the table before she looked around the place once more.

As Jake entered the classroom, the small Hufflepuff nervously ran a hand over his pocket, feeling the outline of what he'd stashed inside.

It was only yesterday that Jake had got news that was probably going to change his life forever.

Really, Jake didn't know what was going on. He'd thought turning thirteen was going to make him different, but then on his birthday he'd woken up feeling just the same. Three months had gone by since then, and that still hadn't changed. Thirteen wasn't a whole lot different from twelve, it seemed like. It was a little bit sad but also a little bit of a relief at the same time...He still didn't feel like George or Jack. He definitely didn't feel like a teenager, whatever that meant. He just felt like Jake.

That's what he thought anyway. But everyone else must've been seeing something he was missing. The very second he turned 13 it was like he must have become a different PERSON in their eyes. Before Christmas had even gotten there, Jake's school life had turned into a whirlwind. He'd become a dueling co-captain. And then, in the shockingest decision of all time, Professor Browne had made HIM a prefect. HIM! What was he thinking?! He thought it must have been some kind of mistake, but Professor Browne had made it very clear he meant THIS Jake and not some other Jake or some secret twin he'd never met before. He didn't know what Professor Browne was thinking...even if it was the same man who had made Jack a prefect.

He had handed Jake a badge for Jake's robes that the boy had spent half the night staring at as if it might explode. The next morning he'd only just stared at himself in the mirror trying to figure it out. Who was it that everybody thought they saw? Not little Jake Morris, surely, who was still scared of the dark, who was still scared of everything, who sometimes got teased by his dorm-mates for his stuffed animals. Why was everybody trusting him? What did they think that they saw?

The first thing he'd wanted to do was hide, but the next day was the day of the talent celebration, so he couldn't hide forever. He had hesitantly pinned the badge to his robes and made his way to the classroom where his group had been told to meet. The badge felt heavy and un-natural upon his chest. It was a mark of so many things that he was supposed to be...a shining spotlight. Outside of his friends, Jake never really liked attention, and sometimes he was good at not getting it. As a very small and mostly quiet kid, it was usually easy for him to fade into the background. A boy with a badge couldn't do that any longer, and they weren't supposed to even if they could.

So though Jake's feet took him all the way up to the door, they had paused outside of it, frozen with second thoughts. Meeting people was always hard...but now? He wasn't just Jake anymore. He was a prefect, and everything that meant. After standing outside, listening to the distant sounds of a flute, the boy had hastily unpinned his prefect badge and stuffed it deep into his pocket. With a pang of guilt, the Hufflepuff walked into the classroom.

Jake's eyes were drawn instantly to the giant boy who was nearly twice his size, seated by the table. If Jake hadn't known better he'd have thought it was a grown-up, but he knew that it wasn't because of always seeing him in class. It never stopped looking strange, looking at someone - a kid really - with so much hair in places that wasn't the top of his head. The two of them had never spoke, maybe because Jake had sort of kept his distance on purpose, even though Quinn was humongous too, and actually very nice. The other girl (with the flute) that was sitting at the table Jake had never met, and he gave a small wave to the both of them.

Grabbing some colored pencils and paper, Jake awkwardly took his seat by the large boy, which was also by the other art supplies that Hugh had taken. Did that mean they were both going to draw...? It was really Jake's only talent, so he had written it down right away.

Then, Jake noticed the brownies. He began to reach out, but hesitated. Brownies when you were just about to be using your fingers was never a good idea. Chocolate was the enemy of art...but it was also chocolate. After a moment's consideration, Jake plucked a brownie with the tips of two fingers, delicately bringing it up to his mouth, careful to stain his fingers as little as possible.

811 words

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MAGGIE HAWKINS

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interacting with: @Jake Morris | @Rachel Davis | @Hugh Lowe mentioning: @Orion Lécuyer | @Lucia Fox | @Starlee Kennedy | @Autumn Agapov

November 23, 2021

XXXXWhen opportunity knocked, you answered. So, when the chance to show off her mad puppeteer skills reared its (potentially ugly, depending on how it went) head, Maggie leaped at the opportunity. Grabbed it hard by the tail and dragged it behind her, kicking and screaming. Kicking and screaming because it wasn't exactly brilliant ventriloquism, and Maggie's 'talent' likely wouldn't get her far in life. That didn't stop a girl from trying! The little activity that the professors had set up was sure to be her's, sure to be her moment. Of course, moments weren't often established by being late. Well, not late, per se, but not early, either. Maggie's mother had always told her that being on time was late and being early was on time. Blah blah blah, stupid stuff. No, instead, Maggie got lost searching for the proper area and got too sidetracked checking under a staircase she got caught next to for ghosts. Where did ghosts hide when nobody was looking? They were real, at least to Maggie's knowledge, unless the professors (and, by extension, the headmaster) projected holograms of them to float around the castle, so what did they do when nobody was looking? At meals, the ghosts flounced and danced in the air, as if carried by invisible strings that were puppeteered by whoever was up above, if anything at all. Often, Maggie did get caught up in those sorts of questions. The sort of question that made her late for classes. No matter, though! Right on time! Maggie skidded into the room, holding in her arms a rather garish ventriloquist dummy. Certainly not something you'd find on the shelves at a modern establishment, something in style. In fact, the puppet had been purchased years earlier from a secondhand shop in Westport. Hadn't been in style for at least a century, according to her mother, but Maggie had begged for it, pleaded, and wouldn't leave until he was safe in her arms, ugly smile and all. The paint was half peeling, the wood beneath chipped in places. The coating that was supposed to make up his hair and eyebrows had faded significantly, no longer the rich, dark brown that it was in its heyday. Big blue eyes, a row of freckles dotted on the pointy cheeks. And that smile, curled up at the corners and pointy on the cupid's bow, truly horrific. It was a wonder that Maggie loved it so much. His suit was crinkled and pinstriped, a bright red bowtie at the neck. This was Reggie, the object of Maggie's affection and, for all intents and purposes, her baby. Reggie planted in her arms, Maggie tipped her head up as she approached the tables that the professor was positioned behind. "Oh, goodie! Free snacks?" She cheered, shifting Reggie over so that he was slung over her right shoulder, leaving the left arm and hand free to grab a brownie. On one of the tables, among the other art supplies, Maggie observed a box of craft supplies. Googly eyes, pipe cleaners, socks, glitter glue, everything that someone might need to create their perfect little friend. Time to survey her subjects for the day. A boy who was probably too large for the doorframes (maybe the school should invest in giant-friendly facilities) sat in one seat. A girl who played the flute was elsewhere in the room, and Maggie watched her for a moment with big eyes. Always had an affinity for music, even if she didn't really have much musical talent, herself. And lastly was a boy who looked as if nerves were going to make him jump out of his skin, shoes left on the floor. All in all quite the quiet bunch. Looked like Maggie was expected to add all the levity to the conversation, now, didn't it? Taking a seat next to the quiet boy (Jake Morris, she would later find out), Maggie wiggled her fingers at the two boys. "You guys are awful quiet. Who spat in your cereal this morning, huh?" She teased, setting Reggie down on the tabletop with his legs splayed out. Sat straight up on the table, because he was included, too! "I'm Maggie. Hawkins," that brownie, still slathered with chocolate frosting, was held delicately between Maggie's fingertips, but not for long. No, instead, Maggie took a quick bite and set it down on the tabletop. No regard for the common tried and true rule; no food on the table without a barrier. WC: 747

Of the two girls that entered, Hugh only recognized one of them. And her face only faintly seemed familiar, all he could think of was that she likely was a first year in his house. Seeing them pass by in the common room being the only times their lives ever crossed paths. The other? He had no clue. From the looks of it, she was still pretty young, so his guess was another firstie. The third kid in the room, was someone he did know, though. Recently appointed prefect, Jake Morris. And the little man was looking as nervous as a shivering baby hippogriff that was about to jump down a cliff for its first flight.

The other Gryffindor had picked up a flute, it was pretty straightforward that she played the thing. Unless she whacked people on the head with it, in that case he'd suggest she start with the Hufflepuff, as he was about three times smaller than Hugh. Their most recent arrival had brought something mildly concerning. Hugh knew there were a decent amount of whackos attending Hogwarts, but if this girl was about to introduce them to her 'best friend' or 'long dead brother' then he would be linea recta out of here.

Morris, however, had picked something very similar to Hugh. One eyebrow arched upwards as he silently judged the Hufflepuff prefect, looking for his badge. “Wht're y- dwng?” Hugh said with a mouthful of brownies. He wasn't making any effort to keep up appearances to this lot. Besides, they were here for a reason. He wasn't going to waste any more time than necessary in this classroom. After this, he had been 'nice' enough for the remainder of the month, he reckoned.

Without looking at Jake, but still waiting on his reply, Hugh began to draw lines across the paper. Silently, he'd wait for any kind of conversation to start. If they wanted to show off, now would be a good time for it. Though, he was still hoping the puppeteer wasn't working on a whole sentimental speech. Gods, he hated speeches, especially given by puppets.

Wordcount: 788

Interacting with: Everyone Present

When Starlee saw an opportunity to show off her musical abilities, she took it. This 'talent show' was no different, and it excited Starlee even more that she would have another opportunity to perform outside of the Frog Choir. Not only that, but she could finally show off her true talent; the piano. Luckily, Hogwarts did have a resident Piano in the Rehearsal Room, which she tried to make time to practice at least once a week. Not as much as she, or certainly her old piano teacher would have liked, but she did what she could.

Everyone that had signed up was placed into groups and Starlee scanned the list of names in hers. There was only one name she faintly recognized, Hugh Lowe, a student from summer camp and another misadventure, so it would be a great opportunity to make some new friends. Of course, she was treating this like an actual performance, so instead of her relaxed leggings and oversized jumpers that she typically preferred to wear, she went for a more 'formal' look, putting on a dress, some chonky heels, and a jean jacket, because lord knows the castle got cold this time of year. She clopped her way up to the classroom from the dungeons, sheet music in hand. While she had been practicing this particular piece, it wasn't fully memorized yet, so better to have that just in case.

When she finally entered the room, it appeared some students had begun gathering already, all of them seating in the few chairs around a circular table. It was a strange setup for a piano performance, but she didn't know what the others had in store, so perhaps it was helpful. She beamed at the professor as she made her way in, taking one of the empty seats and looking at the group around her. She smiled and waved briefly at Hugh, not fully saying hello since they were really more of acquaintances than friends.

She proceeded to notice brownies that some of them had gotten into, and tried to restrain herself. Brownies and piano playing was really not a good mix. Instead she went for the tea, which would hopefully calm her nerves a little bit. She didn't get terrible stage fright, but to be performing in front of a lot of people you don't know at all was a little daunting.

She took a sip of the tea, and introduced herself to the group. "Hey there, uh, everyone," she began, more sheepishly than she was hoping to sound. "I'm Starlee Kennedy, Slytherin." she said rather matter of factly. 'Too foreword now... dial it back...' "Uh, how are you all today? And... Well... who wants to go first?" She shuffled the book of sheet music around on her desk lightly. Well that could have gone better. While clearly not all seven people were there yet, it was probably better to get things rolling.

WC: 488/800

Interaction: Everyone present

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The sounds of her footsteps echoed through the hallway as she ran, determined not to be late once again. A small white card was clutched in her hand spelled out the reason for her rush. “Celebrate Your Unique Talent.” She hadn’t planned on sighing up for the event but remembering her mothers’ words to ‘get out and try new things because you never know what good things might come your way’, she decided that she might as well give it a go.
And while they technically weren’t regretting their choice, they most definitely were not as sure of themselves as they first had been, signing up. They could barely carry out a normal conversation; how in the world had they thought that they could teach a whole group of people?
Taking a steadying breath, she skid to a stop, checking the location listed on the invite. Looking around, she spotted the door for, hopefully, the classroom a bit down the hall.
Hurrying over to it, Autumn paused outside the door, pointlessly running a hand over their long, wild red hair, hoping to smooth it. First impressions were important, after all. Especially since they would also be meeting upperclassmen.
In an attempt to tame their hair, they pulled it away from her face, gathering it in a ponytail by the nape of her neck. However, her efforts proved futile, her dyed bright red bangs already slipping loose and flying around her face. She was wearing her usual uniform, though she had traded her worn, faded jacket for a slightly newer one. Other than that, her outfit consisted of a red turtleneck, ripped jeans to match her jacket, and a pair of platform boots, in an attempt to make herself seem taller. Finally, she had put on her favorite pair of earrings, small ships inside glass bottles that took hours to make and were, in her humble opinion, one of the best in her collection.
Steeling themselves, they took one more breath before pushing open the door. Here goes nothing.
The inside of the room could barely be recognized as a classroom. All the desks had been removed, replaced with a large, round table, on which stood an array of materials. More tables stood in the back of the room, more supplies piled high on them, and in the corner stood a large piano.
The room was also filled with people. Well, not quite filled, but enough people were there to show Autumn that their plan to get there early had failed. Said people were sitting in chairs around the center table, one of them holding a flute (presumably to play), another what appeared to be a very weathered, and slightly scary, puppet. Another, standing with her back to Autumn, was saying something, Autumn arriving just in time to hear the end of it.

“...And... Well... who wants to go first?”

Shit, she thought, late again? Closing the door as quietly as she could behind her, she nodded to the professor standing in next to a small table holding, much to Autumns delight, a tray of brownies and a tea set. Glancing back at the table of students, she slowly made her way over to the table, regretting her choice of platforms. Quickly pouring herself a cup of tea, she eyed the brownies before deciding against it. If the table was any indication, most of the activities appeared to be more hands-on, as was her own, and having sticky hands could complicated things.
Slipping into an empty seat, hoping against hope their hasty entrance hadn’t been spotted, Autumn surveyed the other students. They only recognized two, a first-year student they had seen around, and another Hufflepuff. The other students seemed to be older, except maybe the one with the puppet. It was hard to tell. All in all, it looked like a good group. Autumn felt themselves relax slightly, leaning back in the chair and turning their focus back to the one that was speaking.
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Word count:663/800

Hugh groaned as he sunk deeper into his chair. Of course, he was assigned to the quiet group. Seeing the Hufflepuff prefect shivering in his chair and the others hesitate, he sat up straight and started drawing more aggressively. If these tossers were thinking they could waste his time, they were dead wrong. He shot several more glances towards the smurf sitting next to him as he continued his drawing. His tongue was sticking out in the effort of making sure it somewhat resembled his subject. Who figured he'd be trying to get a likeness out of this stupid assignment?

Hugh was getting himself riled up. Only the occasional reminder that he actually signed up for this himself caused him to regain some composure. But the fuse on his box of dynamite was swiftly getting shorter. He couldn't stand the silence. He couldn't stand idiots. And he especially could not stand being 'nice'. His hand instinctively grasped for another slice of brownie, which he threw down his throat and instantly swallowed.

"There." He said as his hand slammed itself down in front of Jake's nose. Before him, the Hufflepuff would find a rather large drawing of his face, clearly looking worried, stressed even. The words were large and clearly mocking Morris' current posture. It was a stark contrast to that of his creator. Hugh would simply be leaning on his chair and staring straight at Jake's face, slowly munching on a remnant piece of brownie that stuck to his teeth. His eyebrows flashed upwards, trying to get the prefect to react.

Wordcount: 1049