General The Ravenclaw Table 2018-2019

No sooner had Rylet's rather embarrassing exclamation left her lips than something farmore embarrassing took place. A knee was jammed into her back and then her head catapulted into her dinner. Luckily for her she was still eating a salad, no messy mashed potato disasters coming about. At least nobody would notice her squeaky introduction now! Life was awesome, she decided, fate was on her side, this time. Probably not for long however. Mistress luck, or fate, or whatever you wanted to call the all knowing entity that seemed to find great amusement in Rylet's unfortunate events, never stayed gone for long. She would bet the universe a gallion, that she did not have, that within the day she would run into a wall, or fall down a set of stairs. Maybe have a bucket of paint dropped on her or step in hippogriff poop. She ran into things often, usually tables and assorted furniture and fragile items. There was this one time with a rake... Her house was Rylet proofed a long time ago. The kitchen was made off limits and all sharp and breakable items put into cabinets and other various hidden nooks.

Deciding her head had been lying in her salad for long enough Rylet lifted it up and wiped the dressing from her cheek and nose. Running her hands through her hair in an attempt to dislodge any lettuce or other foreign bodies that had taken up residence in her dark locks. Oddly enough her fork had become entangled, no idea how it had happened so thoroughly, Rylet took to detaching it while she turned around to find the culprit of her very sudden intimacy with her food. Her eyes searched the empty air in front of her, scanning at an upward tilt as she often did, because of her her small stature. There was not once in her memory when she had too talk to a person her age without looking up.

Finding nothing she furrowed her brow, fingers still working the stubborn fork from her hair. Had it been a hit and run? Probably, not like she wouldn't do the same thing, just keep walking as if nothing had happens, maybe whistle a nice tune as she meandered away innocent and unassuming. But this hit was not as she amused, a run. Movement drew her gaze and instead of looking up she instead looked... down?. There sprawled on their back and scrambling to get their hands underneath themselves so as to be in a propped up position was a boy. He was an odd looking thing of little high or substance. He looked like a geometry project, all angles and sharp edges, a person, Rylet for sure, could cut herself on. He was also not the cleanest person she had ever seen, as if he had recently been outside in the dirt and had yet too take a bath. He was looking at her with utter horror, as if she was suddenly going to pull her head off, put it under her arm, and do a little jig much as Nearly Headless Nick had done a little earlier.

Cocking her head too the side she removed one of her hands from it's current job and smiled brightly at the fellow. Anyone who distracted others from her mistakes was a person she could get too know. And especially since he was on the ground, embarrassed and looking too her too bite his head off, she felt no awkwardness. They were on the same page him and her, peas in a pod, two socks in the same package. Though she was obviously the purple sock, the dark one not the light one. Because there was always that stupid pinkish purple sock that had no business in with the cool colors like dark purple, and black, and grey and blue and green, not to mention orange and red. But yet it always showed up, the bloody little bugger, no respect.

The boy she decided would be the grey sock. A good color, solid, a lot to offer but also with room for improvement. It could evolve into silver or even that really cool blue grey color her mother painted her room in called Manmutton or Mansutton or Manhattan or something or another. They were cut from the same pattern yet distinct in their coloration, a fine mismatching pair. Everyone needed mismatched socks every now and then, in fact, she had on some right now! It was a sign, she was sure. Offering her hand after all her uncalled for paused that were inexplicable too most bystanders she leaned down.
"Nice too meet ya Mr. Grey. It seems I have gotten quite familiar with your knee but not you, what ever is your name? Mine is Rylet, Rylet Lynch. Sounds like a hanging I know, but really it means something too do with boats, or so I was told. It's Irish." She said without any indication of insincerity of shenanigans. Her face open and smiling, a little ruefully if she was honest. After a moment she realized she may have been a little confusing in her introduction, but just rolled with it. It was said, was out in the world, and she felt she could trust this boy not to judge her. He was after all the one whom had so forcibly introduced her too her dinner, and was her missing mismatched sock buddy. So working the fork with one hand and the other still outstretched in his direction, a peace offering, she awaited his response.

Grayson slowly adjust back to reality only to see his unassuming target wipe dressing from her face and untangle a fork from her hair. If this were one of Grayson's elaborately planned follies, he would have been a thousand yards away from the target, laughing in his subterfuge in a mysterious cackle that would only be more Bond-villain-esque if he were petting his cat in a black leather swivel chair. Still, this moment of dastardly fun was not his as he was petrified in horror for every moment that this poor girl cleaned herself up. Accident! Grayson, seriously? You- Still, Grayson was not able to reenter his head space for much longer than that split second as this young witch began searching for him. Not only was he frozen, but his inner-narrator was too! Never before had the stench of fear radiated off of him so much. Then, in a moment, he found her looking down at him.

Grayson turned to his inner monologue for help and found only one piece of advice: Stay still. Maybe, she's like a T-Rex. Maybe... Maybe... She hunts based on sight. He could not help but take advantage of his wretched advice as the girl looked him up and down, eyes slashing through his poor defensive maneuvers. Then, she flashed her teeth in a wicked smile. I was wrong! Deeply wrong. Grayson, she is not a T-Rex. Report: abandon mission! Abandon mission! Alas, it was too late for him for she had identified him as prey and was going to consume him, bones and all.

For moments of deep contemplation, he spoke back to his inner monologue, arguing that Maybe, she is not a predator about to consume us? Maybe, she's friendly?.

Still, he was no match for his personal alter ego who dismissed Grayson entirely who snapped back with a quick condescending set of instructions. Friendly... Friendly? Friendly?!?!!?! Grayson, have I not taught you better? You just ruined this poor girl's day. Get up, clumsily run away like you always do and escape while you still have the opportunity. These instructions came moments too late as Rylet reached out her hand to his own alongside a little, poorly stated introduction. Grayson's inner monologue battered him with more instruction, stating that Grayson should Get up. Walk away. Don't take her hand. Furiously apologize and get out of this hall now. Danger level in one-hundred-eleven. Escape now! She was odd, but just the right amount of odd to entice Grayson into interacting with her. I mean, the best way to avoid meeting new people is to move in herds, and... Well... She might be the best chance that he would have at camouflage while he was here.

In a moment of ultimate defiance, Grayson reached his hand out, grasping hers. In a moment of pure frustration, his mind just shut off, likely fainting due to Grayson's exemplary boldness that he had displayed. He began to push a phrase out of his mouth, stating in his odd amalgam Liverpool-Belfast accent that, "M- M- My nam--- name is G-G-G-Grayson... Ward. It's a p-p-pleasure to meet you." He used her hand to rise to his feet, further showcasing his empty frame before feverishly stating that without a single stutter that, "I am so sorry and I should have been watching where I was going and, now, I have ruined your salad, and I am so sorry." That was poor social interaction at its finest displayed right there; although Grayson had never shown so much people skills before, so he found himself oddly proud of his accomplishment. Still, where he might have stopped before, he continued in his wordy escapade, asking her, "Would you mind if I sat by you? I--- I--- d-don't know anybody h-h-here." For the finale in his award-winning performance, he flashed her an awkward smile, forcibly showing teeth as if he were a crocodile exposing its soft underbelly in combat.

It was sooo cute, she just wanted to cuddle him! Which would probably be a bad idea, she should definitely not try and cuddle a stranger, bad Rylet, bad. But his stuttery little ascent was so cute! Reigning in her impulses Rylet grinned.

"Yes yes of course!" Rylet assured, shooing one of her bread buddies off to the side. "It is nice too meet you too Grayson, and don't worry about the salad! I was almost done with it anyway." Patting the now vacant seat next too her Rylet pushed her ruined salad away onl;y to turn around and study Grayson closer. Looking past the scared little boy too his smile and his eyes, too the appearance and disappearance of his stutter. There was something off with him, something that told her too be a little careful. Yet she could not place the origin of her feeling and for now decided to ignore it. She was sure of one thing however, she liked him. She liked that he was as off on the outside as she was inside. Instead Rylet focusing on something else, something... delicious. Cake! It was displayed gloriously on a rounded pedestal like holder she had no name for, too her it look like a bird bath, but that couldn't be right. All she knew was that it looked like it was presented to the table just for her, and it would be very rude too ignore it. Slicing a delectable piece, she gently placed it on her own little platter and readied to dig in. But right before her fork touched the sugary delight she had a thought, a horrible thought.

"My cake, it's safe right? There will be no more ruining of perfectly good food?" Rylet asked Grayson warily, leveling a harmless butter knife at him as if it was the greatest of threats, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

It seemed to Grayson that the girl was not a predator, or, at least, he was not her prey. In fact, the look in her eyes told Grayson that he seemed to be a wounded bird to her: a little pet project for her to fix up. The concept tickled Grayson; nobody outside of his father had ever taken a personal interest in him before, especially not a complete stranger. Perhaps he was a bit naive, but he seemed to find an individual genuinely connected to himself. Either that, or his overactive Spidey-sense was failing him for his little narrator refused to chime in as Grayson thought about the potential pros and cons of establishing this girl as a friend or camouflage.

Then, she shot out a discussion beginner, and he suddenly started to hear his monologue restart again. Grayson... Let's think this through. Remember that one quote from the Charles Bukowski guy... What was it? Hmmm.... Ah, yes, I am the best company that I have ever had. Look at her Grayson. She is so full of life and energy. What would she possibly have to do with you? List- The young eleven-year-old found his psyche's input dissatisfying, attempting to tune it out to the best of his abilities, but he could still hear the low hum of his narrator trying to steer him away from her this entire conversation. Never before had Grayson rebelled like this. He would never disobey his little ego, his commander. The way she brushed off his accident, avoided anger, and her apparent care for him all gave her a magnetic zeal that pulled Grayson out of his own mind and into her orbit.

Her little invite of patting of the seat seemed to create a slight twitch in Grayson's eye almost as if he had just heard a whip crack. After a few nanoseconds, he collected himself and began to inch towards the seat. His eyes rolled around his head, searching for some tripwire for some malevolent trap incepted by this new colleague. No such trigger was seen, so Grayson slowly began to ease himself into his seat like a child dipping their toe into cold water for the first time. The water was fine, so Grayson took his place next to Rylet, his grin growing more natural for a moment before disappearing at Rylet's little harmless butter knife threat.

With her threat, he felt a shock rush up his spine. This fail young heart of his could barely comprehend the sarcasm behind her words. In typical spineless fashion, he sputtered out, "Y-y-you'll be f-f-fine. I promise. Again, I am s-s-s-s-so sorry." He tossed a chuckle behind the words to hide his clear spike of fear when she harmlessly waved that knife around. Grayson began taking deep breathes to calm himself because Bambi had just taken some significant steps today.

Impressive Grayson, most impressive. You're tossing out sentences left and right, plus you only had a mini-stroke at that infantile threat. A little too bold for you Grayson... I will just wait for this to explode in your face. You're a little Volkswagon bug attempting to race at the Indy 500. It just doesn't work. Just, when this goes wrong (like everything you do), you'll be able to retreat to your thoughts and books. With that thought, Grayson reached over, grabbing himself a slice of cake from the table's centerpiece.

The look on his eyes as he stared at his food was of pure love, of genuine affection. If his slice cake were sentient, it would have called the police because of Grayson's feverish (perhaps, stalkerish) intensity. Then, in a second, the cake on his plate evaporated into thin air like the world's least impressive magic trick. Grayson turned to Rylet, and through a mouthful of cake, he began to speak, "S-s-so, d-d-d-d... d-d-d-d-do you..." In the back of his mind, Grayson unnecessarily feared that she might find this method of speaking disrespectful, so he carefully covered his mouth with his hands and turned away from her, his face a deep maroon color from his embarrassment. Slowly, as if trying not to activate her predator senses, he began to swallow his cake before finishing his question. "So, d-d-d-do you come from this w-w-w-w-world?" Fingers floated around Grayson's head as he attempted to make some strange gesture about the world around him in the hopes of keeping his conversation with Rylet alive.

Rylet smiled at his nervousness, finding his hesitation too sit next too her endearing, as if she would bite. Well, not that she wouldn't. She didn't make a habit of it, anymore at least. But in the right circumstance... she had done it before! Like that time William from school had covered her mouth with his hand saying her singing was making his ears bleed so she should shut up. She bit that hand, no hesitation. He deserved worse she believed, too bad her powers hadn't been manifesting then!

Now that would have been interesting, she wondered what they would have done... Well then again she could have seriously hurt him, which would be bad, definitely bad. Funny but bad, she shouldn't daydream about people getting hurt by her accidental magical incidents, even as secretly gleeful as she felt upon those happenings. Fearful of herself yes, but gleeful. Not that she would tell anybody that, people tended too look at you weirdly after you told them you enjoy seeing others getting what they deserved. Something about satanic, or narcissistic, or borderline sociopathic tenancies always getting mentioned. She would totally not describe herself that way. She could be a little self absorbed maybe, enjoyed confrontation a little too much at times, a little emotionally distant, yet never really spoke her mind. People were possibly just taken aback, ya, that was it. She was just quiet and weird so they were surprised. Her ranting continued even as she spoke too Grayon about her cake, her ability too multitask rather impressive. Her mind could wander even as she warned him away from her precious.

The glazed look in Rylet's eyes receded as she brought the second part of her consciousness back too reality, her knife still leveled at Grayson. The briefest flash of cold analytical observation glimmering in her blue green eyes as she studied the boy. His reaction too the butter knife was more exaggerated than the normal person. His stutter indicated nervousness, so he could simply be more receptive of fearful stimuli than others. But the flinch like motion, the way she saw his body tense and it seemed too her as if his breathing and heart rate increased. Those would be more indicative of anticipation of something unpleasant.

The glimmer and internal observations were gone as quickly as they appeared. She wasn't one too judge, she was no expert, and she did not know the kid well enough. So in no time her mind was back on the subject at hand, 'Did she come from this world?'.

"Nope, not at all, I'm a 100% muggle born witch. A few months before the letter came I started too have some incidents of the magically chaotic persuasion." A small smirk displaying on her lips at the memories but also a little regretful crinkle of her eyes. "Me and my mom were pretty relived when it turned out we were not going cuckoo! Even if learning of magic was a surprise. What about you?" She asked genuinely interested. Grayson was quite the puzzle, and she very much desired too solve him. Though not at the expense of a possible friendship.

Odessa walked into the great hall and made her way to the Ravenclaw Table. She yawned because she was a little tired after the unpacking all her things in her new dormitory. "I guess I might as well try to mingle with someone and try to make some friends" she thought to herself. If she was going to become a great witch, then she was going to first and foremost have to make friends. She looked around at the kids talking and conversing and wondered how she could find someone to talk to. Looking around and not finding anyone, she decided to just go sit down at the table and maybe read her book and then maybe somebody would approach her.

She took out her book, "Hermione Granger: A Gryffindor Hero". She was given the book by a girl she met in the library and she felt very proud to read it, especially since Hermione was also muggle-born. Odessa sat down and opened the book and began to read it quietly. She could tune out the noise coming from around her very well when she really got into a story. In this case, the story completely engulfed Odessa because of her curiosity and she had no awareness of her surroundings.

Becky didn't really know anyone at Hogwarts. She'd hoped that the magical world might be more accepting than the muggle world, and it was, but Becky hadn't really made friends before and didn't have much clue where to start. She'd spent most of her time falling into her muggle habits, although she had to admit exploring a library that was magical was much more fun than exploring a library that wasn't. Anything that floats makes a good time, balloons, water tubes, bubbles, and now books. Everything at Hogwarts seemed, well, magical. She'd spent about two hours talking with paintings and taking rides on moving stairwells.

Becky was walking beside the Ravenclaw table, trying to find a friendly place to sit, but she ended up doing more staring at all the magic surrounding her than seat hunting. She stopped in front of an empty painting and looked around trying to see if there was an extra figure in any of the surrounding canvasses. Becky thought she'd spotted it, when a chill that felt like an unscrathed itch scraped through her core and a head popped out of her stomach. She stared in shock for a moment, but when the ghost's eyes popped out of it's head and started bouncing on strings that moment of stillness was gone. Jumping out of her skin, she screamed and lept back- right onto the table and a Ravenclaw girl reading a book, flipped over a plate, and finally fell onto the floor covered in food.

Odessa had been too engrossed in her book to even notice anything around her. She was calmly reading her book on Hermione Granger and snacking on a biscuit and dreaming about her dreams of becoming a great witch. That was until a loud scream broke her from her paradise and shortly after a girl fell onto her making her drop her book and lose her page and her food as well. Odessa looked at the girl on the ground covered in her food and looked over to see a ghost laughing hysterically and pointing at the girl.

“HEY”. Odessa said angrily. “Get out of here. It’s not nice to pick on us first years”.

The ghost just stuck it’s tongue out at her and went away through the wall. Still slightly fuming at the ghost Odessa turned her attention to the girl. “Ghosts huh?” She said to the frazzled looking girl as she bent down to help clear some of the food from off of her. “It’s not unusual for them to play pranks on us first years”. Odessa smiled now because she wanted to cheer the girl up. She realized that she had lost her book though and turned around to look under the table for it. She reached under and grabbed the red book and dusted the food scraps off of it. She could hear people around her laughing at her and the girl. “Don’t worry about them, they were us before too”. She smiled.

As Becky lay covered in food and drowning in humiliation her world became an ocean of red. Not only had she made a scene and ruined her robes, but she'd made a complete fool of herself and screamed her head off in the middle of the Great Hall! She barely even heard the girl she fell on chasing away the ghost, and was too wrapped up in her furious self-pity to recognize her kind words.

"Ghosts, huh?" The girl said, and this time Becky heard her, but made no sign to acknowledge this stranger's understanding.

When she bent down to brush some food off of Becky, the furious eleven year old brushed her arm away and promptly got off of the floor. Sometimes acknowledging your tears makes them worse, so Becky pretended not to notice the welling in her eyes, determined not to let those tears fall. Kids all around were laughing at her, and Becky felt resentment swell in her chest as her face burned.

The girl must have picked up on her thoughts because she tried to reassure Becky, "Don't worry about them, they were us before too." Finally Becky looked at the girl and her anger faltered for a second at her seemingly genuine kindness, but Becky was in no mood to feel appreciative. Suddenly, Becky found herself mad at this girl, who'd been nothing but good to her, even after Becky had spoiled her book and dinner, and she set her jaw and glared for no reason other than to glare.

"I don't need you worrying about me," Becky said, forcefully brushing off the food from her robes and grumbling in frustration as it stuck to her hands.

"I don't need you worrying about me,"

Odessa stepped back with her book in hand and looked at the girl curiously. Odessa knew from all the reading that she used to do that when something embarrassing happens, its natural to feel upset. However a small voice in her head told her that she shouldn't let people push her around. "No" she thought to herself. "Be friendly". Odessa smiled at the girl again. "Hey, I know how you probably feel right now, but I won't judge you". she said. "Just letting you know though, if you want a friend, I would love to chat!". She opened up her book looking for the page that she had left off at. The pages were a little crumpled but she was sure there was a spell to fix that. She found it and made a slight fold on the page then closed it again. There were a few house elves that had come out to clean the mess up and Odessa offered to help them. A few of the elves cried in thanks saying its fine but she just claimed that she wanted to eat it and they let her continue to pick some food up.