@Ambra Thanks! I'd vote for Johto as well. Always been my favorite.
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Room for one more? :D Trying to get back into the swing of things here, and a Pokemon seems like the best way to do it!
There were three people talking about her in hushed tones, as though she couldn't hear them when she was only sitting a couple of feet away. Found the little one jus' outside me hut, small giant-man said for the tenth time that hour. The story of how he found her prowling along his hut changed a little each time he told it. This cannot happen again, the stern-looking lady said, and something in the tone of her voice made her believe it won't. The squishy-looking one that had a strangely calming presence agreed with everything the lady said, but he didn't look as upset.
Sat on a stool with nothing to do, Nova scratched her head and gritted her teeth, her extremely finite patience already at its end. They'd each spoken to her already, more or less saying the same things in different voices—Forbidden Forest this, Forbidden Forest that, you could have gotten hurt, blah blah blah. What more did they want from her? Her mum hadn't mentioned anything about this part of her first day.
But then again, her mum didn't warn her about the vehicle spawned from hell either.
Just the thought made her skin crawl. Nova has lost count of how many times she almost died or almost almost died in pursuit of XXXX and XXXXX class creatures. There was that time in Borneo when she very nearly got eaten by an Acromantula; that time she dozed off while flying with her mum and fell backwards off the broom; oh! there was also that time she thought an Occamy egg was a shiny rock and its mommy got really mad when she approached it. And that was only scratching the surface. Danger came hand-in-hand in the daily life of an Oswin, and she thought that had primed her to be fearless.
She was wrong.
Even the giant, carnivorous spider paled compared to the metal beast she was forced into. Nova may have lost track of her too many close encounters, but she can count the times she had succumbed to paralyzing fear in one hand. Two fingers, actually. Once, years ago, when her mum fell ill and remained bedridden for days. And today, while she was trapped in the belly of the Nightmare Express. She'd been unbalanced and woozy and it was so hard to breathe that she thought she'd die right then and there. Why on earth would anyone want to travel in a box with narrow walls and no way out?
"For now, let's get her sorted and off to bed. It's past curfew."
Nova looked up when the the three people finally stopped talking to each other. Her blue grey eyes warily flicked from one to the other as they approached, before lingering on the worn-looking hat the lady carried. She wondered what it was for, although she would find out soon enough.
After a bit of struggle with the talking(!) hat—long story short, she had to be lightly restrained—they eventually managed to force it onto her head and get her sorting on the way. The hat hummed for but a second before barking out a weird-sounding word she'd heard her mum mention once or twice before. Gryffindor. Small giant-man looked mildly disappointed, but nice man was happy. He guided her out to a tower, to the house of the red lions, where there were more people than she'd ever seen in her whole life.
Nova slept under her bed that night, out of sight and away from all the other girls she didn't even know.
[--★ ★ ★--]
Unlike the night before, the first day of classes ended without much incident... not that there was much chance for one. Every time she strayed from the path to her next class, or so much as edged toward the outskirts of the castle, someone conveniently popped up beside her to show her the way back. Nova couldn't believe her luck. It was like the Malaclaw week all over again! She only wanted a moment to get away—spending too much time indoors surrounded by strange people became very suffocating very quickly—but it seemed the head lady was serious about not getting a repeat of last night's incident.
As she scrambled out of her last class of the day, small giant-man Rubeus Hagrid was waiting right outside the classroom to greet her. He smiled and congratulated her with a well-deserved pat on the head for making it through the day, although he warned it wasn't over yet. There was one more stop she had to make, and he was to take her there after classes.
Nova harrumphed and made a face, brows furrowing deeply and nose scrunching, but she relented anyway. Even if it was his fault that she got caught and was lectured, she liked Hagrid a lot. He talked funny and he had a deep rumbling voice that soothed her and wide shoulders that made for a comfortable perch. She could tell right away that he adored creatures as much as her mum, and that was as good a sign as any that he wasn't a bad person.
As they walked along the corridors, Hagrid let Nova climb up his arm and drape herself over his shoulder, like she had done last night. It was a surefire way to get her to come along peacefully (Nova liked heights and the chance to tower over people for a change), and Hagrid picked up on it rather quickly. That was actually another reason she liked him: even though they'd only met, he seemed to understand her rather well. At least, better than the other people she'd met so far.
"Now, yeh remember Neville, don'tcha?" Hagrid asked as they rounded a corner.
Nova nodded slowly. "The lion king. Nice and squishy."
A hearty laugh rumbled out of Hagrid's chest and shook his shoulders. "Yeah, that's 'im. He wants yeh to join this group some o' yer classmates have started. Said it might help yeh adjust."
"NO!" Nova thrashed about, kicking her legs and flailing an arm in a little temper tantrum. She would have jumped off his shoulder and scurried far, far away if he hadn't held onto her. From what she'd experienced earlier in the day, other people were just no good. Humans were difficult to understand and weird, nothing at all like magical creatures she had come to know as well as herself.
"It's not summat yeh can say no to, I'm afraid." As though sensing her rising tension, he gave her another gentle pat on the head, and while it didn't completely calm her down, now she only hissed and pouted.
They came to a stop in front of a room, which Hagrid pointed out as their destination, just as a dark-haired boy slipped inside. Nova stiffened, glaring at the door as though she could scare it away, and grabbed a fistful of Hagrid's robe easily to hold onto. Even then, it took Hagrid no effort at all to lift her off his shoulder and settle her down on the ground next to him.
"I don't want to go," she tried again, shaking her head profusely.
Hagrid crouched down and gave her a comforting smile. "Don' yeh worry, Nova. I promise Yeh'll come ter like it soon enough."
He ushered her in then, and try as she might to dig her heels into the concrete floor, there was no fighting Hagrid's sheer strength. With resistance rendered futile, Nova resorted to hiding behind the not-too-giant giant instead, poking her head out just enough to keep her eyes trained on the members of the group. There were so many of them, she wasn't sure who to watch out for! Although, Nova already picked out the ones to not. Like the super skinny boy with dark curls; or the tall, dark-skinned girl that made her think of a harmless flower; or even the other girl with hair like fire. Nova was sure she could easily take them on, if they were on their own. But if they were anything like a pack of wolves, they wouldn't take to outsiders at all. She'd be no match against their numbers.
"Sorry ter interrupt yeh fellas," Hagrid nodded to the group, smiling as he spotted familiar faces and greeting the two Hufflepuffs among them. He cast a worried glance behind him, where Nova stood with her back hunched, knees bent and feet firmly on the ground, and teeth bared. The girl looked about ready to pounce, and he wasn't so certain that she wouldn't go through with it.
Still, he pushed her forward and offered a brief introduction. "This here is Nova and she'll be joinin' yeh're group, if tha's okay."
Hagrid turned to Nova before he left, hoping a quick escape to the forest would be an incentive for her to cooperate. "Yeh can come visit me hut when yeh're all done. I'll let yeh feed the Hippogriff!"
Nova watched Hagrid duck under the door frame with a deep-set frown and only turned to the group when he disappeared into the corridors. She stayed rooted where she was and was back to warily eying the others, anticipating any sudden movements. There was no one she knew by name, although she was sure she must have seen some of them in class. The only ones that were even the slightest bit familiar was the girl with yellow hair and the dark-haired boy who came in just before her. Fellow lions.
Okay…so what was she supposed to do now?
Zvjezdana "Nova" Oswin
blood status:
Halfblood
age:
Eleven ★ July 27 ★ Leo
gender:
Female
personality:
The Magizoologist Mother with the Wanderlust Affliction
Upon receiving her required textbooks as a first year, Nova's mother zeroed in on the red leather-bound copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and personally accepted the challenge. She dropped out of Hogwarts during her fifth year in pursuit of this goal, and henceforth adopted the ways of a nomad. There was too much to see to be confined in a castle for seven years, after all. Nova's mother has gone all over the world to see the fantastic beasts for herself, and with Scamander as her guide, find them, she did. Two and a half decades (plus one traveling companion) later, the red leather has worn; the pages of the book faded and marked and filled to the brim with copious annotations; loose sheets ripped from newer versions appended with a clumsy spell; and she has done it.
The Stellar Formation
Nova was born during what her mother liked to call the Hebredian Black Standstill, in reference to the longest period of time she had stayed in one place (a grand total of ten months in one of the uninhabited Inner Hebrides). The night Nova was born was one of miracles, her mum boasted. The stars were restless and uncannily lustrous, as though waiting in anticipation, and there, looming in the horizon, was the elusive Hebridean Black. Nova gave her first cry just as the fearsome dragon roared, and her mum knew she had been blessed.
★
In the beaten-up copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that is the Oswin family bible, there's a sheet of paper sticking out from between the pages.
Ingredients for one Zvjezdana:
A dollop of Hebridean Black ferocity,
Don't get her angry, or face the dragon's wrath. Nova is 98% instincts and 3% brain; the makings of a savage better suited to prowl along the Forbidden Forest than to mingle in with society. Raised in an environment where the only distinction is predator or prey and the philosophy is eat or be eaten, she has learned all too well how to fend for herself and those she cares about. When things go south, she is not afraid to resort to more... aggressive tactics.
A handful of Unicorn ingenuousness,
Lack of consistent human contact means she has yet to be exposed to the finer points of social interaction. Nova is susceptible to getting tricked and manipulated, especially if big words are thrown around to confuse her. But a word to the wise: don't let her know she's been tricked. Nova doesn't take well to being fooled.
It's hard for her to pick up on even the most blatant of lies, but she is good at noticing body language; usually, her gut knows when something's wrong but her brain doesn't know what it is.
Three cups of Phoenix tenacity,
Never say never, unless you're saying "I'll never give up." No matter what obstacle is thrown her way, Nova will conquer it. She will get back up each time she falls, dust herself off, and continue marching on. Self-assured and fueled by an absolute belief that she can take on anything, no matter how big or powerful, Nova prefers to be in the brunt of the action than in the sidelines. She will go the extra hundred miles for a friend, and will never back down on a challenge. Once, her mum had jokingly asked for a piece of Leprechaun gold for her birthday, and Nova vowed to get her one. It wasn't until three years later that they ventured to Ireland, but after more than ten hours of pestering one unlucky Leprechaun, she made good on her promise. It disappeared before the day was done, but that didn't matter.
On the flip side, Nova is too proud to ask for help, especially when she is in dire need of it. She will stubbornly force herself through a situation even if the odds are stacked against her. Die trying, right?
A pint of Manticore recklessness,
Act now, think later! As a purely instinctive creature, Nova rarely thinks things through before diving headlong into it, under the belief that she can accomplish anything with sheer force of will (or just sheer force). She relies on her quick reflexes and intuitions above all, and has long decided that unnecessary pondering can only hinder one's actions. Idiotically bold, she is also flippant in the face of danger. This is a little girl who tried to fight a Hippogriff because she was jealous of the attention it got from her mother. Luckily, the Hippogriff was a mother as well and didn't take offense from the seven-year-old trying to hop onto its back and kick at its legs.
Fourteen tablespoons of Pixie playfulness
Nova likes to tussle and roughhouse and go on secret adventures with people she likes, and it is only with them that she becomes openly affectionate. It's easy to get her into a laughing fit, although it would never be from a clever quip--slapstick humor and incredibly cheesy jokes tend to work best. Nova also likes physical contact and gets pouty when deprived for too long, at which point she will start to hover and nudge you until you play with her hair. There's a bit of an issue with her and personal boundaries (read: she has none), and she has to be reminded every now again when she unwittingly crosses them.
Two gallons of Crup loyalty,
Once you have gained Nova's trust, it will remain with you forever. There is nothing she wouldn't do for one she considers a friend, no mountain too high or water too deep and all that. Nova believes trust is sacred, and an act of betrayal is perhaps the worst thing that could be done to her. She will take it to heart, and she will never forget.
Nine kilograms of Human awkwardness,
Oh, Nova. While she can correctly identify the temper of an owl from its hoot, she cannot grasp the convoluted ways of a human. Sarcasm and subtle insinuations fly over her head, and she will most likely take things at face value. Try not to use too many metaphors in one sentence or she'll start to lose track of what you're really talking about. Social cues are also a bit of a mystery to her, and if she ever manages to catch one, she will have to ask for clarification. Most of the time, Nova has to be blatantly told when she's reacting incorrectly or strangely, especially in regards to more delicate matters.
Nova also has the subtlety of an Erumpent on a rampage, and she is as blunt and straightforward as they come, sometimes brutally so. She sees no need for omitting the truth, especially when it only complicates things.
appearance:
A child of the wilderness, through and through. There's something almost feral about Nova's general gait and demeanor, apparent whether she's graceful and sure and swift, like a predator stalking its prey, or cagey and restless like a wary kitten. The last time she checked, she is as tall as two fwoopers and a fairy, sitting cross-legged and cross-armed and glaring daggers, stacked on top of each other. That means she's grown half a fairy in the last year! She's got skinny arms and legs and a trim figure thanks to all the adventuring she does, and probably from eating only leafy greens and fruits, too. She has bluish grey eyes the color of thunderclouds, and funnily enough, they seem to clear up and look bluer when she's in a very good mood. Her once fair complexion has since become sun-kissed, at least it is underneath the layer of dirt and soot caked on top and the smattering of bruises big and small. Mum wants her to try and stay clean in Hogwarts, but she can't make any promises.
Her hair is long and messy and will stay that way unless someone does it for her, which she really loves. Playing with her hair and petting her head is possibly the best way to soothe her, a good thing to keep in mind in case she goes on a rampage. Nova likes how her mum describes her hair color: caramel on top and honey at the bottom. It makes it sounds really yummy. She has only gotten it cut once in her whole life, and it was by accident. Funny story: did you know a Malaclaw bite gives you bad luck for one whole week? Nova did, but that didn't protect her from getting bitten. On her last unlucky day, she stumbled across a Snargaluff that attacked her hair with its prickly vines and wouldn't let go. She had to cut it to escape, and now her hair ends at her waist instead of her thigh.
For all the keener senses she supposedly developed out in the wild, fashion sense is definitely none one of them. Nova dresses for function instead of form and picks out whichever is easiest to move in. She has a bit of a pickle with the robes for this reason. It's too easy to get it caught on something.
Her hair is long and messy and will stay that way unless someone does it for her, which she really loves. Playing with her hair and petting her head is possibly the best way to soothe her, a good thing to keep in mind in case she goes on a rampage. Nova likes how her mum describes her hair color: caramel on top and honey at the bottom. It makes it sounds really yummy. She has only gotten it cut once in her whole life, and it was by accident. Funny story: did you know a Malaclaw bite gives you bad luck for one whole week? Nova did, but that didn't protect her from getting bitten. On her last unlucky day, she stumbled across a Snargaluff that attacked her hair with its prickly vines and wouldn't let go. She had to cut it to escape, and now her hair ends at her waist instead of her thigh.
For all the keener senses she supposedly developed out in the wild, fashion sense is definitely none one of them. Nova dresses for function instead of form and picks out whichever is easiest to move in. She has a bit of a pickle with the robes for this reason. It's too easy to get it caught on something.
wand material:
Redwood | Dragon Heartstring (with the tiniest Chimera Fragment) | 12 ½ inches | Supple
When she was nine, Nova and her mother encountered an elderly woman, a retired wandmaker, they'd later discover, living alone in a small hut located in the middle of a forest. Her sight had all but left her, yet she moved about the land expertly, weaving through thickets with ease and warding off dangerous creatures lurking about with a simple swish of her hand. They spent a whole week with her, and she was one of the few humans that Nova instantly adored. While her mother was off tracking down and observing Clabberts during their mating season, Nova kept the wizened woman company. She listened to her accounts of her past, and oh, she had so many wonderful tales to tell that the week flew by in a flash.
The woman, touched that Nova listened with her whole heart, decided to give her a special parting gift. A wand crafted in her image. It had been a while since she made one, and she had been itching to do it again. The woman gathered the materials herself, and Nova was entreated to the spectacular sight of a master wandmaker in action. Even though she could not see, her hands remembered, and the wand was as well-crafted as any she'd seen. If it weren't for the intricately embellished handle, the wand could look as though it had simply been pulled from a tree branch, with its natural, wild and twisting form and crooked tip. The spiral handle is vaguely reminiscent of a dragon's coiled form, and scattered along its length are tiny star and diamond-shaped carvings, forming its very own constellation.
The wand itself is almost like an extension of herself, Nova thought. It fit in her hand perfectly, and seemed to possess a similar temper as her (though that may not always be a good thing). Perhaps most worrying is that it seems to spur on Nova's reckless proclivities. It values raw power over control, and as such, results in unstable spellwork. Doesn't work well with healing spells.
When she was nine, Nova and her mother encountered an elderly woman, a retired wandmaker, they'd later discover, living alone in a small hut located in the middle of a forest. Her sight had all but left her, yet she moved about the land expertly, weaving through thickets with ease and warding off dangerous creatures lurking about with a simple swish of her hand. They spent a whole week with her, and she was one of the few humans that Nova instantly adored. While her mother was off tracking down and observing Clabberts during their mating season, Nova kept the wizened woman company. She listened to her accounts of her past, and oh, she had so many wonderful tales to tell that the week flew by in a flash.
The woman, touched that Nova listened with her whole heart, decided to give her a special parting gift. A wand crafted in her image. It had been a while since she made one, and she had been itching to do it again. The woman gathered the materials herself, and Nova was entreated to the spectacular sight of a master wandmaker in action. Even though she could not see, her hands remembered, and the wand was as well-crafted as any she'd seen. If it weren't for the intricately embellished handle, the wand could look as though it had simply been pulled from a tree branch, with its natural, wild and twisting form and crooked tip. The spiral handle is vaguely reminiscent of a dragon's coiled form, and scattered along its length are tiny star and diamond-shaped carvings, forming its very own constellation.
The wand itself is almost like an extension of herself, Nova thought. It fit in her hand perfectly, and seemed to possess a similar temper as her (though that may not always be a good thing). Perhaps most worrying is that it seems to spur on Nova's reckless proclivities. It values raw power over control, and as such, results in unstable spellwork. Doesn't work well with healing spells.
boggart:
Her mother, except it's not her mother, because there's no smile on her face (or a mouth at all!) and no gleam in her eyes. She is sallow and world-weary and she casts her precious copy of Fantasic Beasts aside like it's nothing. Her touch is not warm or loving but cold and distant, and she looks at Nova with indifference.
other:
★ She must have had a father at some point, but she has never met him. Every time she asks, the story changes. It's even become a little family tradition: before she sleeps, she would ask who and where her father was, and every night, it would be a different man in a different place. A sweet-tempered Hungarian Healer roaming the world in search of cures for the incurable. A tough American Auror who lost his life saving hundreds of people. A misunderstood Welsh Werewolf, forced to live in seclusion to protect his wife and unborn child from himself. She's left wondering if there's some truth to her bedtime stories, but she doesn't mind the not knowing so much. Nova loves the stories her mum weaves, and she'd rather listen to them than force her to tell her something she's not ready to share.
★ Speaking of stories: Nova loves them very much, but she hates reading. The letters get mixed up and jumbled when she stares at them too long and they make the words difficult to understand. It gets frustrating really quickly. She much prefers listening to stories, and will hang onto your every word should you grace her with one. In the same light, Nova learns best by listening and actually has excellent echoic memory.
★ She has a Jobberknoll friend called Rhapsody that insisted on tagging along with her to Hogwarts. He was the fledgling of the Jobberknoll her mum once saved, and he has been attached to Nova ever since he hatched.
★ She's terribly sensitive to the cold.
★ Speaking of stories: Nova loves them very much, but she hates reading. The letters get mixed up and jumbled when she stares at them too long and they make the words difficult to understand. It gets frustrating really quickly. She much prefers listening to stories, and will hang onto your every word should you grace her with one. In the same light, Nova learns best by listening and actually has excellent echoic memory.
★ She has a Jobberknoll friend called Rhapsody that insisted on tagging along with her to Hogwarts. He was the fledgling of the Jobberknoll her mum once saved, and he has been attached to Nova ever since he hatched.
★ She's terribly sensitive to the cold.
Ahhh, I just got off work and won't get back home for another 30mins. D': Will it be possible for me to post the CS a little after 9? I'll definitely have it before the day ends.
Hiya! You guys are probably sick of answering this, but are you still accepting? I have a witch in the making that should be up for review by tonight, if that's alright.
Been a bit busy, but still here!
Music blared throughout the quaint room, the bass reverberating and bouncing from wall to wall, soliciting some frustrated pounding and a lot of garbled cursing from one unlucky neighbor. Juliette hummed distractedly in response, as if she would be heard, but remained perfectly still on her bed, lying face-up with her body stretched out and her hand idly reaching upward. The clamor from next door was drowned by her much louder noise, and for a moment, she forgot about the complaint.
Instead, she stared up at the glow-in-the-dark star decals dotting the ceiling in elaborate swirls, wondering who the previous tenant had been but fairly certain it had to have been some art student. It was nothing short of mesmerizing, like her own little galaxy. During her first night in the dorms, she wasted hours watching her fake stars twinkle, nostalgia washing over her in an instant, soothing and a tiny bit heartrending. There was little she remembered about Reykjavik, but the way the night sky looked during the dark winter months was forever etched in her mind; it was among the few things she could still associate with the word home.
After receiving another round of angry wall pounding, Juliette pulled her iPod (a blue 5th gen she bought used from eBay, a whopping $50 and her Christmas gift to herself) from the surprisingly efficient dock from Walmart, cutting the music abruptly. There was one last spiteful thump, sounding almost like her neighbor had thrown something heavy in rage, before her walls finally stopped vibrating and the incoherent yelling hushed. Huh. She felt guilty for disrupting the person's sleep and all—because god knows how much she hates when that happens to her—but you'd think a prestigious university like this would have thicker walls.
"Guess that rules out late night practice," she muttered to herself, even though she was sure she'd forget and do it anyway.
Through the small cracks in the window blind, Juliette took note of the still gloomy sky, estimating the time before she glanced at the screen on her iPod to check. Ah, damn, it was 5:44 already! She had always been an early riser, up and about and ready for her jog just as the morning light began to break through the horizon. But these past few days, she found a formidable challenger to her routine in the glorious form of a single twin bed with a super soft mattress. It had made slipping out of bed a daily struggle, as it tempted her with its warmth and coziness, and more than once she very nearly skipped her morning exercises completely. But holy crap, could you blame her? It had been so long since she had a bed for herself. Sure, her friends had awesome couches, but even though she slept curled in like a cat and required as much space as one, nothing beat a good night's rest on your own bed.
Juliette allowed herself just five more minutes of loafing, to get all the laziness out of her system, and jumped right into her morning routine afterward. The day started with a jog around campus, one or two circuit depending on her time, then a quick high-intensity workout in the nearby park. Her favorite part came after, when she got to blast herself with refreshing cold water from the shower. It felt ten times better when you're all hot and sweaty, seriously. If nothing else, she'd recommend toughing through a killer workout just for that feeling alone.
Jet was reluctant to step out of the shower but pried herself out eventually. She sang as she sifted through her closet for something comfortable to wear (ha! as if there were a lot to choose from), and settled on a basic blue skater dress she paired off with some knock-off Chucks she got downtown. Her hair was still damp, but she put it up in a loose bun anyway, wisps framing her face and some coming loose before she even moved. Aaand done!
Juliette bent over her bed to rummage through the whirring fridge for breakfast. There was only one tub of Yoplait left and she grabbed it halfheartedly, jutting her lips out in a disappointed pout. Oh well. She'd just have to charm her manager for a breakfast muffin, then drop by the dining commons after class to stock up for the week. The scholarship included a hundred block meals per quarter, which roughly translated to nine meals per week (oh my god, her high school aged self would die from happiness), and she liked to make the most out of each one.
Her constant companion of a duffel bag was heavier than usual with her work uniform and two notebooks and a book stuffed in it. Juliette slung it across her body and headed off, taking spoonfuls of her fruit yogurt along the way.
∞
Juliette took her time getting to gymnasium, allowing the more eager students to rush past her. She dialed up the volume on her iPod, drowning out the buzzing of excited chatter that filled the campus road. When her music was turned on, the rest of the world faded into the background. Her feet were light and her steps airy, almost as though she was treading through clouds, and never once out of sync with the beat of her music. Even her body swayed to the melody.
She caught one ridiculously overdressed guy (looking like "my father will hear about this" personified) scoffing when she did a pirouette—or wait, was it directed at her scratched up iPod, which she had pulled out moments before? He side-eyed her when he realized they were both going to the gymnasium, and looked mildly confused as to why she was there. In response, Juliette blew him a kiss and winked, definitely catching him off guard. He scurried away in a huff, nose up in the air, almost like she was contagious.
Juliette raised a brow. If she happened to pull out her plastic spoon out of the tub with a bit more effort, flinging a dollop of yogurt out and directly onto his designer slacks… well, that was an accident.
If everyone at this university was like this, then she was going to have a lot of fun.
∞
The ceremony was over before she knew it, probably because she came in halfway through and listened to her music the whole time. She pulled out her earphones only once out of curiosity, when she noticed the opposite side of the room—which she could tell from the fog of pretention and stench of affluence was the 'rich' side—had erupted in laughter. At first she thought she had missed a hell of a joke, but she knew jeering when she heard it. Juliette smirked, overcome with the sudden urge to rile things up, because these precious heirlings would surely have the best reactions.
She was one of the few to leave as soon as the speech ended; she had squeezed a quick shift at Ghost Roasters before her first class and it started in a few minutes. In her haste, she nearly bumped into a dark-haired and bearded guy in plaid, idling just outside of the gymnasium, but her quick reflexes allowed her to evade him just in time. Juliette turned around to flash him a sheepish grin before continuing down the path to the café.
Aahh, I'll have a post up later tonight! Sorry for the delay!
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