The hinges of an old door creaked in protest as Masika stepped inside one of Hogwarts' many lesser-used classrooms on the fifth floor. Torches sputtered to life around the space and her dark eyes took in the slightly dusty space that had the familiar set-up of a small stadium style lecture hall. She had arrived early deliberately, and as she sighed lightly the sound echoing around the stone room, "Ayyy... Papi, ¿qué me has convencido a hacer?"
Masika stood silently for several moments with her shoulders slumped a bit, before she shook herself and pulled herself together deliberately, "Nothin' for it now..." She had already spoken to a Gryffindor Prefect, Rhea Bishop. The older girl had helpfully explained the process of starting a club, and had even assisted in getting the club's posters distributed to the bulletin boards in each of the Houses' common rooms.
Masika turned and dragged a chair away from the last line of desks, using it to prop the door open, before she reached into her messenger bag and pulled out a poster and a scotch tape dispenser. She stepped outside of the room and taped the poster to the stone wall so that anyone that had decided to come to the meeting would know they had come to the right place.
She took a moment to smooth it down, before she moved back into the classroom and made her way down the steps to settle on the front edge of the raised platform. As many times as she had seen her muggle father give lectures, she hardly felt comfortable with the idea of standing behind the lectern. He had always seemed to own lecture halls with nothing but his enthusiastic presence, while conversely she would probably have to stand on a chair to so much as see over the podium, and she hardly felt comfortable with the concept of talking to a group of an even slightly significant size.
If she were honest to herself, she almost wished that no one would show up at all, even if that would mean that she was essentially alone in her interests. Being alone was familiar at least, and far less daunting than trying to interact socially with anyone her own age.
Of course... she had never been without at least one of her parents within easy contact before, and the difference was more than slightly jarring. A now-familiar wave of homesickness tried to overwhelm her, and she rifled around in her bag before pulling out the Potion's textbook. With a slightly shaky breath, she cracked open the text and tried to lose herself in the words, still uncertain on how she wanted things to turn out.
"Ayyy... Papi, ¿qué me has convencido a hacer?" = "Ohhh... Daddy, what have you convinced me to do?"
دوام الحال من المحال. (dawaam il-Haal min il-muHaal.) — Egyptian Arabic Proverb
Continuing the same state is impossible. (Nothing stays the same.)
Strength: 2 | Agility: 12 | Control: 11 | Stamina: 5