5 Dec 2019, 17:36
First Interactions
Reducio
Private to @Rafael D'Spacito
Stella exhaled as she sat down at the Hufflepuff table, empty except for herself, and brought out the most recent owl she'd received from her quill pal- Rafael (although he'd agreed she could call him Raf. She'd been glad at how easily they had gotten along, even if it had only been over letter thus far.) Scanning the letter, she realized Raf had never said where they would be meeting. She'd just assumed they'd meet in the Great Hall. Her fellow Huffles had talked about how the Hall was a popular first meeting place for Quill Pals, so she'd decided she'd wait for Rafael at her own table. Now, though, she questioned herself. Should she have sent out another owl telling Raf where'd she'd be waiting for him? Or would he be able to pick her out for himself? She hadn't mentioned what she looked like in any of her owls to him, nor her Hogwarts house. The latter she assumed Raf would be able to guess. She had mentioned being too nice for her own good-- when he'd told her to take it easy on Jo. Though she was yet to meet Jo, she had readily agreed. As long as Jo was welcoming when she finally figured out where to go to sign up for the girls' study club. (She planned on joining the girls' study club, but she wasn't sure where to go to sign up. She hadn't seen any posters or the sort around the school, and she wasn't sure if any of the other Hufflepuffs would know. She was rather afraid to ask-- seeing as she didn't quite feel like she even belonged in the Hufflepuff house.)
Nevertheless, here Stella was now-- waiting for her quill pal at the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall with a half eaten sub sandwich sitting in front of her on a plate next to a goblet of ice water, also half gone. She had considered going somewhere else to wait for Rafael, but her growling stomach had been enough for her to make up her mind and settle in with her sketch book in front of her to keep her occupied while she waited. Putting her plate aside, she picked up her pencil and began to doodle over the page-- nothing solid coming to mind for her to draw. But that was okay. She would have only been halfway done with the drawing by the time Raf arrived, anyway. Assuming he was able to find her. Glancing around every once and awhile to keep a look out for any sign of someone, anyone, approaching the Hufflepuff table, Stella doodled her favorite things on the page. Her succulents; quick sketches of Ava and Jonah along with her parents; an owl envelope addressed to her waiting to be opened...
Ah, yes. She did love opening personally addressed owls, whether they be arriving from her parents, Ava and Jonah, or her quill pal that she was finally about to meet. The anticipation had kept her up all night and distracted her in a few of her classes, causing a couple of her professors to call her to attention and briefly embarrassing Stella as a few of the older students had chuckled and shook their heads as if to say to one another, First years. But she'd recovered from those few moments of humility, and now the wait was over. She would soon enough meet Raf, and she could hardly wait. Stella put her pencil down and took a sip of her water as she surveyed the room another time, smiling softly to herself. It can't be long now, She thought.
You will be found~ Deh
Stella Dawson
5 Dec 2019, 21:33
First Interactions
@Stella Dawson
Rafa had been anticipating his and his penpal’s meeting all day.
It was funny, because usually, he didn’t anticipate anything – holidays, World Cup games, tests. The idea would linger in the back of his head for hours of his time, but they would never be anticipated. The truth was, not much got him excited anymore. After the whole, ‘Oh, and magic exists!’ talk with his mom, he had just learned to roll with the punches. Which was fine with him, because surprises weren’t his favorite. [Jump-scares, in particular.]
But there was something different about this situation. For starters, Stella seemed like an incredibly nice person. It was a bit hard to find people like that anymore. Growing up in the rougher parts of his native country, he got to see all the pain and violence first-hand. And perhaps there were more nice people here in Hogwarts – but it was more than that. He couldn’t really explain it to a degree, but he felt as if there were a difference between typical nice people and Stella.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had never actually seen her before. He had no image of her whatsoever, except of this fairy girl from a show his little sister used to watch when she was still around. He couldn’t imagine Stella being blonde, though. So, as far as he knew, her face was just a random question mark. He was rather curious, though, about what she actually looked like – call it his Gryffindor nature. Speaking of houses, she had mentioned she was a Hufflepuff. They always had rather friendly looks about them, he remembered. That, or humorous faces. Rafa's mind immediately reverted back to Tim, his best mate, who was also a Hufflepuff. But he doesn't really fit the bill all well, does he?
Trying to stay focused on the task at hand, Rafa entered the Great Hall. The owl he had gotten stated that he come before the Great Feast, which was when his study period was – convenient for him, he supposed. He found that the room was quite bare, though – especially the Hufflepuff Table, which only had one student occupying its seats. At first glance, he noticed that she had bright red hair with chocolate brown eyes, and a face that sort of smiled at you. Though, she wasn’t smiling at the moment – she looked rather focused, actually. Rafa hated to bother her, but really, he was having a rather hard time finding his friend.
Steeling himself, he walked up to her, putting on a rather easygoing smile – he didn’t want this Hufflepuff to think he was going to beat her up, or anything. Most Hufflepuffs were pretty skiddish around him, for some reason. But he tried not to think of this too much, instead trying to keep his focus. “Um, hey,” he said, kind of chuckling to add a friendly vibe. “Have you seen one Stella Dawson?”
Rafa had been anticipating his and his penpal’s meeting all day.
It was funny, because usually, he didn’t anticipate anything – holidays, World Cup games, tests. The idea would linger in the back of his head for hours of his time, but they would never be anticipated. The truth was, not much got him excited anymore. After the whole, ‘Oh, and magic exists!’ talk with his mom, he had just learned to roll with the punches. Which was fine with him, because surprises weren’t his favorite. [Jump-scares, in particular.]
But there was something different about this situation. For starters, Stella seemed like an incredibly nice person. It was a bit hard to find people like that anymore. Growing up in the rougher parts of his native country, he got to see all the pain and violence first-hand. And perhaps there were more nice people here in Hogwarts – but it was more than that. He couldn’t really explain it to a degree, but he felt as if there were a difference between typical nice people and Stella.
Perhaps it was the fact that he had never actually seen her before. He had no image of her whatsoever, except of this fairy girl from a show his little sister used to watch when she was still around. He couldn’t imagine Stella being blonde, though. So, as far as he knew, her face was just a random question mark. He was rather curious, though, about what she actually looked like – call it his Gryffindor nature. Speaking of houses, she had mentioned she was a Hufflepuff. They always had rather friendly looks about them, he remembered. That, or humorous faces. Rafa's mind immediately reverted back to Tim, his best mate, who was also a Hufflepuff. But he doesn't really fit the bill all well, does he?
Trying to stay focused on the task at hand, Rafa entered the Great Hall. The owl he had gotten stated that he come before the Great Feast, which was when his study period was – convenient for him, he supposed. He found that the room was quite bare, though – especially the Hufflepuff Table, which only had one student occupying its seats. At first glance, he noticed that she had bright red hair with chocolate brown eyes, and a face that sort of smiled at you. Though, she wasn’t smiling at the moment – she looked rather focused, actually. Rafa hated to bother her, but really, he was having a rather hard time finding his friend.
Steeling himself, he walked up to her, putting on a rather easygoing smile – he didn’t want this Hufflepuff to think he was going to beat her up, or anything. Most Hufflepuffs were pretty skiddish around him, for some reason. But he tried not to think of this too much, instead trying to keep his focus. “Um, hey,” he said, kind of chuckling to add a friendly vibe. “Have you seen one Stella Dawson?”
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
6 Dec 2019, 16:45
First Interactions
Looking up at the sound of the newcomer's voice, Stella registered what he had said and then assessed how he looked. Could this be her quill pal? Surely not! The boy in front of her was built like an athlete and looked at least thirteen. Raf had mentioned he was a first year, and most first years were around eleven or twelve. Stella herself was eleven and three-quarters, with her birthday just over three months away. The boy appeared to be a Gryffindor, with the appropriate robe to match his house, and Raf had given Stella a Gryffindor vibe, so she would just go with it for now. But with caution.
"That depends,"
She said at last, her Scottish accent prominent as she kept her voice neutral.
"I personally see meself in the mirror each day, so I have seen one Stella Dawson, depending on how you'd like to look at it."
She replied coolly, offering a sly smile as she quirked a brow upwards and met his gaze steadily with her own. It was a wonder she hadn't been sorted into Slytherin, with her ability to be sly and sneaky at times. She knew how to get anywhere without making a sound, and how to make any area that she had been digging in for quite some time(like the spot where her parents hid her and her siblings' Christmas presents) appear as undisturbed as it had been before she'd even started. The sorting hat had muttered to itself, debating whether or not she was truly a Slytherin before deciding that her will and friendly nature won over her ability to be cunning and sly.
Moving her gaze to the owl that sat on the table in front of her, face-up, Stella picked it up and tried to picture the boy in front of her saying the words that were scrawled in black ink on the piece of parchment paper. Hm.. Her mouth set into a slight frown and her gaze turned skeptical for a moment before it returned to her neutral half-smile. Who else would be looking for her that hadn't actually met her in real life? No one-- everyone else she'd interacted with knew her appearance and would know better than to ask her if she'd seen herself.
"This your handwriting and signature?"
She inquired, standing and holding out the owl to the boy for him to see. He was several inches taller than her-- she stood at 4'7", so he was almost a full foot taller than her, and definitely towered over her, giving her the instinct to straighten and lift her head a bit in order to appear taller than she was. She felt quite short in comparison-- probably because, well, she was quite short. She mentally cursed her family's genes of being so. Darn. Short.
"That depends,"
She said at last, her Scottish accent prominent as she kept her voice neutral.
"I personally see meself in the mirror each day, so I have seen one Stella Dawson, depending on how you'd like to look at it."
She replied coolly, offering a sly smile as she quirked a brow upwards and met his gaze steadily with her own. It was a wonder she hadn't been sorted into Slytherin, with her ability to be sly and sneaky at times. She knew how to get anywhere without making a sound, and how to make any area that she had been digging in for quite some time(like the spot where her parents hid her and her siblings' Christmas presents) appear as undisturbed as it had been before she'd even started. The sorting hat had muttered to itself, debating whether or not she was truly a Slytherin before deciding that her will and friendly nature won over her ability to be cunning and sly.
Moving her gaze to the owl that sat on the table in front of her, face-up, Stella picked it up and tried to picture the boy in front of her saying the words that were scrawled in black ink on the piece of parchment paper. Hm.. Her mouth set into a slight frown and her gaze turned skeptical for a moment before it returned to her neutral half-smile. Who else would be looking for her that hadn't actually met her in real life? No one-- everyone else she'd interacted with knew her appearance and would know better than to ask her if she'd seen herself.
"This your handwriting and signature?"
She inquired, standing and holding out the owl to the boy for him to see. He was several inches taller than her-- she stood at 4'7", so he was almost a full foot taller than her, and definitely towered over her, giving her the instinct to straighten and lift her head a bit in order to appear taller than she was. She felt quite short in comparison-- probably because, well, she was quite short. She mentally cursed her family's genes of being so. Darn. Short.
You will be found~ Deh
Stella Dawson
6 Dec 2019, 22:00
First Interactions
@Stella Dawson
After his little question, the girl had looked up at him. She had been a bit hard to read – he couldn’t tell if it were surprise or confusion on her face. Or maybe both. Or maybe none. Whatever the case, Rafa found himself suddenly amused. A bright snuck onto his face, his eyes thoughtful. She definitely was a special sort of girl, he could read – though, he wasn’t sure what gave him that thought.
After a moment, she finally answered him. "That depends," she told him. It suddenly struck Rafa that she was Irish – her accent was a dead giveaway. It gave Rafa a bit of a bitter thought, his mind drifting to one of his enemies. But he tried to shake the thought from his head – this girl obviously didn’t have ill intentions. Plus, she seemed to have something to say regarding his penpal. "I personally see meself in the mirror each day,” she said rather smartly. “So I have seen one Stella Dawson, depending on how you'd like to look at it." She quirked her eyebrow, a funny sort of look on her face.
Rafa wasn’t really sure why, but he felt suddenly like he had been smacked in the face. And not in the insulted way – it was only the realization. He felt pretty stupid after that – he’d never been the sharpest tool in the shed, anyways, but he felt as if he should have seen it from the start. The only bloody girl on the Hufflepuff Table! You really are a moron, Rafs, he joked to himself. The shock quickly wore off, and his face – previously looking rather surprised – took on a very amused sort of look.
He crossed his arms with a bright grin, watching as her gaze shifted from her owl and himself. Eventually, she showed him a very familiar letter, his own handwriting evident on the page. "This your handwriting and signature?" She stood up as she said this – she was rather short, he noted.
“Might be,” he said, shrugging with a funny sort of look on his face. He gestured to the writing. “Though, I doubt it. My handwriting’s gotta be better than that..” he plucked the letter from her fingers – without permission, he might add – and quickly scanned the writing, a wince growing on his face. “Wow. I need to take writing lessons, or something. This is ruddy terrible.”
It became increasingly apparent how different his voice sounded – being a native of Argentina, English wasn’t his first language. Therefore, his accent took the form of a Spanish, or almost American sound. “I thought you would be blonde or something,” he joked, trying not to think about it too much. “Redhead’s a good look on you, ya’know.” He spoke to her as if he had known her for years – he had a habit of doing that to people. Though, he hoped she wouldn’t think too much of his brashness – it was just his nature.
After his little question, the girl had looked up at him. She had been a bit hard to read – he couldn’t tell if it were surprise or confusion on her face. Or maybe both. Or maybe none. Whatever the case, Rafa found himself suddenly amused. A bright snuck onto his face, his eyes thoughtful. She definitely was a special sort of girl, he could read – though, he wasn’t sure what gave him that thought.
After a moment, she finally answered him. "That depends," she told him. It suddenly struck Rafa that she was Irish – her accent was a dead giveaway. It gave Rafa a bit of a bitter thought, his mind drifting to one of his enemies. But he tried to shake the thought from his head – this girl obviously didn’t have ill intentions. Plus, she seemed to have something to say regarding his penpal. "I personally see meself in the mirror each day,” she said rather smartly. “So I have seen one Stella Dawson, depending on how you'd like to look at it." She quirked her eyebrow, a funny sort of look on her face.
Rafa wasn’t really sure why, but he felt suddenly like he had been smacked in the face. And not in the insulted way – it was only the realization. He felt pretty stupid after that – he’d never been the sharpest tool in the shed, anyways, but he felt as if he should have seen it from the start. The only bloody girl on the Hufflepuff Table! You really are a moron, Rafs, he joked to himself. The shock quickly wore off, and his face – previously looking rather surprised – took on a very amused sort of look.
He crossed his arms with a bright grin, watching as her gaze shifted from her owl and himself. Eventually, she showed him a very familiar letter, his own handwriting evident on the page. "This your handwriting and signature?" She stood up as she said this – she was rather short, he noted.
“Might be,” he said, shrugging with a funny sort of look on his face. He gestured to the writing. “Though, I doubt it. My handwriting’s gotta be better than that..” he plucked the letter from her fingers – without permission, he might add – and quickly scanned the writing, a wince growing on his face. “Wow. I need to take writing lessons, or something. This is ruddy terrible.”
It became increasingly apparent how different his voice sounded – being a native of Argentina, English wasn’t his first language. Therefore, his accent took the form of a Spanish, or almost American sound. “I thought you would be blonde or something,” he joked, trying not to think about it too much. “Redhead’s a good look on you, ya’know.” He spoke to her as if he had known her for years – he had a habit of doing that to people. Though, he hoped she wouldn’t think too much of his brashness – it was just his nature.
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
9 Dec 2019, 16:12
First Interactions
@Rafael D'Spacito
"Might be," She heard him reply as his face contorted funnily. "Though I doubt it. My handwriting's gotta be better than that.." He added, and soon enough the owl was in his possession. Stella crossed her arms and watched him with a faux frown. She couldn't complain, though. She had offered it to him, after all. And really, Raf had written it, so it still belonged to him in a way. She watched him as his gaze scanned the paper, a sort of cringe forming on his face. "Wow. I need to take writing lessons, or something. This is ruddy terrible."
Amused, Stella only nodded, tapping her left foot as she stood and kept her gaze locked on him. She must have not been paying attention, though, because it took her a moment to register his next words. "I thought you would be blonde or something," Raf said-- jokingly, Stella realized as she bit back a laugh, a smile playing her lips. "Redhead's a good look on you, ya'know." He added, only causing Stella's smile to widen.
"Glad you think so," She replied, winding a strand of said hair around her index finger and peering at it momentarily before letting it go and returning her attention back to the boy who was currently looming over her(not really-- she just felt incredibly short. But she had a feeling that she would get used to it the longer she knew Raf.) "Though, currently it's done nothing but make me stick out like a sore thumb in all my classes." She added, rolling her eyes-- though she wasn't that bothered by it. There were worse things in the world.
"So.." She said after a brief pause, her eyes scanning the Great Hall and seeing only a few other people. There was supposed to be a great feast happening soon enough, right? But the room was still pretty bare. "Are we gonna sit or..." She bit her lip. How much time was there until the great feast? "How shall we kill time?"
"Might be," She heard him reply as his face contorted funnily. "Though I doubt it. My handwriting's gotta be better than that.." He added, and soon enough the owl was in his possession. Stella crossed her arms and watched him with a faux frown. She couldn't complain, though. She had offered it to him, after all. And really, Raf had written it, so it still belonged to him in a way. She watched him as his gaze scanned the paper, a sort of cringe forming on his face. "Wow. I need to take writing lessons, or something. This is ruddy terrible."
Amused, Stella only nodded, tapping her left foot as she stood and kept her gaze locked on him. She must have not been paying attention, though, because it took her a moment to register his next words. "I thought you would be blonde or something," Raf said-- jokingly, Stella realized as she bit back a laugh, a smile playing her lips. "Redhead's a good look on you, ya'know." He added, only causing Stella's smile to widen.
"Glad you think so," She replied, winding a strand of said hair around her index finger and peering at it momentarily before letting it go and returning her attention back to the boy who was currently looming over her(not really-- she just felt incredibly short. But she had a feeling that she would get used to it the longer she knew Raf.) "Though, currently it's done nothing but make me stick out like a sore thumb in all my classes." She added, rolling her eyes-- though she wasn't that bothered by it. There were worse things in the world.
"So.." She said after a brief pause, her eyes scanning the Great Hall and seeing only a few other people. There was supposed to be a great feast happening soon enough, right? But the room was still pretty bare. "Are we gonna sit or..." She bit her lip. How much time was there until the great feast? "How shall we kill time?"
You will be found~ Deh
Stella Dawson
10 Dec 2019, 16:14
First Interactions
@Stella Dawson
Rafa noticed that she had been watching him, rather amusedly. It only contributed to his grinning – her personality, he learned, was rather contagious. She seemed to particularly like his little remark, because her grin grew ever wider. "Glad you think so," she remarked, rather brightly. "Though, currently it's done nothing but make me stick out like a sore thumb in all my classes."
“Oh, yeah?” he asked with a joking air. It made plenty of sense – her hair was incredibly bright, definitely. A lot like a bonfire, the way it glinted in the light. But, Rafa reasoned, it couldn’t be that bad of a problem. Standing out could be rather fun, in the right cases. “I quite like it,” he added. Then he raised his eyebrow playfully. “People giving you grief? Need me to scuff’em up?”
He punched his open palm for good measure. Of course, the whole gesture was a joke – well, partially. He couldn’t stand bullying and the sort. But he wore an easygoing grin, the kind that put his peers at ease – he had no intention of scaring her or anything. Trying to lighten the air again, he sobered up a bit. “I can relate a bit,” he told her, a more serious smile on his face. He bit his tongue subconsciously, but pushed the thought out of his head.
"So.." Stella took a moment to glance around the hall, before asking, "Are we gonna sit or… How shall we kill time?”
It was a rather interesting question. Rafa thought for a moment, biting his lip thoughtfully. It wasn’t like there were an abounding amount of options or anything – it was the Great Hall, for God’s sake. Just a bunch of tables and chairs. The Great Feast was going to start soon, too, so they didn’t have enough time to run around… He racked his mentally-lacking brain for a long moment, trying to think of some way to pass the time. It took a few moments of thought, but an idea eventually came to him. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I feel like I should,” he told her, an amused look on his features. Perhaps you could help me out a bit?” His dad would always tell him that people liked to talk about themselves – and, generally, he found this as true.
He offered her a playful grin, pushing his hair back out of his eyes – it was a bit messy today. Sighing, he sat down on the bench of the Hufflepuff table, his back facing the actual surface so he was facing her. “I’ll have to warn you, though – I might not be able to keep up all that well, being mentally challenged and all.” He rubbed his neck, a massive grin on his face. He was definitely in a good mood today.
Rafa noticed that she had been watching him, rather amusedly. It only contributed to his grinning – her personality, he learned, was rather contagious. She seemed to particularly like his little remark, because her grin grew ever wider. "Glad you think so," she remarked, rather brightly. "Though, currently it's done nothing but make me stick out like a sore thumb in all my classes."
“Oh, yeah?” he asked with a joking air. It made plenty of sense – her hair was incredibly bright, definitely. A lot like a bonfire, the way it glinted in the light. But, Rafa reasoned, it couldn’t be that bad of a problem. Standing out could be rather fun, in the right cases. “I quite like it,” he added. Then he raised his eyebrow playfully. “People giving you grief? Need me to scuff’em up?”
He punched his open palm for good measure. Of course, the whole gesture was a joke – well, partially. He couldn’t stand bullying and the sort. But he wore an easygoing grin, the kind that put his peers at ease – he had no intention of scaring her or anything. Trying to lighten the air again, he sobered up a bit. “I can relate a bit,” he told her, a more serious smile on his face. He bit his tongue subconsciously, but pushed the thought out of his head.
"So.." Stella took a moment to glance around the hall, before asking, "Are we gonna sit or… How shall we kill time?”
It was a rather interesting question. Rafa thought for a moment, biting his lip thoughtfully. It wasn’t like there were an abounding amount of options or anything – it was the Great Hall, for God’s sake. Just a bunch of tables and chairs. The Great Feast was going to start soon, too, so they didn’t have enough time to run around… He racked his mentally-lacking brain for a long moment, trying to think of some way to pass the time. It took a few moments of thought, but an idea eventually came to him. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I feel like I should,” he told her, an amused look on his features. Perhaps you could help me out a bit?” His dad would always tell him that people liked to talk about themselves – and, generally, he found this as true.
He offered her a playful grin, pushing his hair back out of his eyes – it was a bit messy today. Sighing, he sat down on the bench of the Hufflepuff table, his back facing the actual surface so he was facing her. “I’ll have to warn you, though – I might not be able to keep up all that well, being mentally challenged and all.” He rubbed his neck, a massive grin on his face. He was definitely in a good mood today.
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
10 Dec 2019, 17:31
First Interactions
@Rafael D'Spacito
“Oh, yeah? I quite like it. People giving you grief? Need me to scruff'em up?" Raf joked as he punched his open fist. Stella rose a brow in question, but she knew Raf meant well. His grin gave it away. Shaking her head, she smiled back and replied. "No, thank you for offering, though. I'm quite sure I can handle myself, for now. I'll contact you if I have any trouble." She promised, noticing Raf sober up and say, "I can relate a bit," She knit her brows in empathy and nodded. No doubt he had-- she noticed the flash of haunting in his eyes before it disappeared altogether and he appeared to mull over her question from before-- how would they spend the time until the great feast?
"Well, I don’t know you as well as I feel like I should," Raf said after a while, looking rather amused. "Perhaps you could help me out a bit?" Stella thought about this for a moment before nodding a little. Was Raf expecting her to talk about herself while she would continue to know nothing about him? She thought, jokingly, although there was a part of her that believed this to be true, but not in a bad way. She would just have to compromise with him.
Sitting down on the bench with his back to the table, Raf added, "I’ll have to warn you, though – I might not be able to keep up all that well, being mentally challenged and all." He brought a hand up to rub his neck, the same grin playing on his face as before. Stella could sense the idea hatching in her head as she thought about his words and felt a grin of her own form on her lips as she sat down on the bench next to him, facing him as she anchored a leg on each side of the bench and thought about how to word her idea. "How about this," She hedged, her left hand resting on the table as her fingers tapped the surface thoughtfully. "For each thing I tell you about my life, you have to tell me something about yours. For example, I'll start with that I grew up in Huntley, Scotland. Now, you would tell me something about you, be it where you grew up, or just something you enjoy doing. It's basically like a game of truth or dare, except without dares and you get to decide what details to tell about your life instead of having to tell whatever ones are asked of you... If that makes sense." She chuckled a little. It sounded pretty confusing even to her, and she'd thought it up!
"We'll call it 'Truth' to simplify it a little. As we go on, the details can become more personal, like pet peeves or background home life. But, at first, we'll start with small details, just slowly working our way in. How does that sound?"
“Oh, yeah? I quite like it. People giving you grief? Need me to scruff'em up?" Raf joked as he punched his open fist. Stella rose a brow in question, but she knew Raf meant well. His grin gave it away. Shaking her head, she smiled back and replied. "No, thank you for offering, though. I'm quite sure I can handle myself, for now. I'll contact you if I have any trouble." She promised, noticing Raf sober up and say, "I can relate a bit," She knit her brows in empathy and nodded. No doubt he had-- she noticed the flash of haunting in his eyes before it disappeared altogether and he appeared to mull over her question from before-- how would they spend the time until the great feast?
"Well, I don’t know you as well as I feel like I should," Raf said after a while, looking rather amused. "Perhaps you could help me out a bit?" Stella thought about this for a moment before nodding a little. Was Raf expecting her to talk about herself while she would continue to know nothing about him? She thought, jokingly, although there was a part of her that believed this to be true, but not in a bad way. She would just have to compromise with him.
Sitting down on the bench with his back to the table, Raf added, "I’ll have to warn you, though – I might not be able to keep up all that well, being mentally challenged and all." He brought a hand up to rub his neck, the same grin playing on his face as before. Stella could sense the idea hatching in her head as she thought about his words and felt a grin of her own form on her lips as she sat down on the bench next to him, facing him as she anchored a leg on each side of the bench and thought about how to word her idea. "How about this," She hedged, her left hand resting on the table as her fingers tapped the surface thoughtfully. "For each thing I tell you about my life, you have to tell me something about yours. For example, I'll start with that I grew up in Huntley, Scotland. Now, you would tell me something about you, be it where you grew up, or just something you enjoy doing. It's basically like a game of truth or dare, except without dares and you get to decide what details to tell about your life instead of having to tell whatever ones are asked of you... If that makes sense." She chuckled a little. It sounded pretty confusing even to her, and she'd thought it up!
"We'll call it 'Truth' to simplify it a little. As we go on, the details can become more personal, like pet peeves or background home life. But, at first, we'll start with small details, just slowly working our way in. How does that sound?"
You will be found~ Deh
Stella Dawson
10 Dec 2019, 21:22
First Interactions
@Stella Dawson
[font=Segoe Print] "How about this.”
Stella had taken seat at the table, her legs on either side of the bench so she was facing him. Rafa watched her with an amused look, his mind going in circles. She certainly was a funny girl, and didn’t exactly give off the shy vibe. At the moment, she looked thoughtful, her fingers drumming against the table in a rhythmic way. It was almost catchy, and for a moment, Rafa forgot he was sitting at the table with a Hufflepuff girl, his mind spiraling into musical notes and lyrics. He nearly lost himself right there, but at the sound of her voice, he reigned himself back in, trying to be a decent conversationalist. "….example, I'll start with that I grew up in Huntley, Scotland. Now, you would tell me something about you, be it where you grew up, or just something you enjoy doing.” It took a moment for his brain to catch up to what she was saying – he bit his lip in focus, his mind finally producing an answer. Oh, so it’s a game. That sounded fun enough. He grinned at the thought – she definitely was a fickle one, but it was pleasant.
“It's basically like a game of truth or dare, except without dares and you get to decide what details to tell about your life instead of having to tell whatever ones are asked of you...” she finished. “If that makes sense.” She gave a laugh towards the end, looking a little dizzy herself. And to be honest, Rafa had sort-of got the gist of what she was saying. He listened anyway, allowing her to finish without being interrupted – people generally hated that.
"We'll call it 'Truth' to simplify it a little. As we go on, the details can become more personal, like pet peeves or background home life. But, at first, we'll start with small details, just slowly working our way in. How does that sound?"
“Sounds great,” he said with a grin. He clapped his hands together once for extra emphasis, turning towards her and matching her position. The idea of sharing facts about himself didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide. “Well….” He allowed himself to search his brain for a good topic. Though, the idea of starting with his own origins seemed most appealing at the moment. “I’m from Buenes Aires, Argentina. Born and raised.” He smiled proudly at the notion – he had always been proud of his home country.
The thought of his own country had his mind drifting again – this time, towards Stella’s end of the stick. He raised an eyebrow in an amused sort of way– he knew he had recognized her accent. “Scotland, yeah?” he asked prodddingly, a playful grin growing on his face. “What’s that like?”
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[font=Segoe Print] "How about this.”
Stella had taken seat at the table, her legs on either side of the bench so she was facing him. Rafa watched her with an amused look, his mind going in circles. She certainly was a funny girl, and didn’t exactly give off the shy vibe. At the moment, she looked thoughtful, her fingers drumming against the table in a rhythmic way. It was almost catchy, and for a moment, Rafa forgot he was sitting at the table with a Hufflepuff girl, his mind spiraling into musical notes and lyrics. He nearly lost himself right there, but at the sound of her voice, he reigned himself back in, trying to be a decent conversationalist. "….example, I'll start with that I grew up in Huntley, Scotland. Now, you would tell me something about you, be it where you grew up, or just something you enjoy doing.” It took a moment for his brain to catch up to what she was saying – he bit his lip in focus, his mind finally producing an answer. Oh, so it’s a game. That sounded fun enough. He grinned at the thought – she definitely was a fickle one, but it was pleasant.
“It's basically like a game of truth or dare, except without dares and you get to decide what details to tell about your life instead of having to tell whatever ones are asked of you...” she finished. “If that makes sense.” She gave a laugh towards the end, looking a little dizzy herself. And to be honest, Rafa had sort-of got the gist of what she was saying. He listened anyway, allowing her to finish without being interrupted – people generally hated that.
"We'll call it 'Truth' to simplify it a little. As we go on, the details can become more personal, like pet peeves or background home life. But, at first, we'll start with small details, just slowly working our way in. How does that sound?"
“Sounds great,” he said with a grin. He clapped his hands together once for extra emphasis, turning towards her and matching her position. The idea of sharing facts about himself didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide. “Well….” He allowed himself to search his brain for a good topic. Though, the idea of starting with his own origins seemed most appealing at the moment. “I’m from Buenes Aires, Argentina. Born and raised.” He smiled proudly at the notion – he had always been proud of his home country.
The thought of his own country had his mind drifting again – this time, towards Stella’s end of the stick. He raised an eyebrow in an amused sort of way– he knew he had recognized her accent. “Scotland, yeah?” he asked prodddingly, a playful grin growing on his face. “What’s that like?”
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I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
11 Dec 2019, 17:54
First Interactions
@Rafael D'Spacito
“Sounds great,” Raf said with a grin. He clapped his hands together, turning towards Stella and facing her. “Well…." He paused for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought before seemingly deciding on something and focusing on Stella.“I’m from Buenes Aires, Argentina. Born and raised." He smiled proudly at this, just as Stella would when talking about her home country.
Raf seemed to drift off a moment before raising a brow in amusement, opening his mouth to reply
a moment after. “Scotland, yeah?” He inquired, a grin playing his lips as he asked, “What’s that like?”
Stella considered this, biting her lip in concentration. "Well, Huntly's quite small, and rather quaint. It doesn't have a population over ten thousand-- that is, the last recorded population was under five thousand. I was homeschooled until Hogwarts, and I didn't know anyone outside of my family. The only friends I had were my siblings and my cousins.. I've got a lot of cousins." She said with a small chuckle. "We play a lot of rugby in the summer, though I'm often excluded because it can be a bit like American football--they fret too much about my well being, you see. I'm easily the best kicker in my family, but they never let me play as the fly-half because I could easily be tackled and injured." She said this with an eyeroll. It infuriated her when this happened. Most of her cousins were boys that were all older than her, and there was definitely over fifteen of them, so most of the time she could only watch them play, occasionally shouting out that she could have done better than the second-best kicker out of their family. And, really, she could. But they were afraid she was too 'frail' to be the fly-half.
She must have said this out loud, and worded it how she'd initially thought it-- with a sense of resentment, for she noticed the surprise register on Raf's face. Cringing, she shook her head. "Sorry. There are only a few things that make me sound like that, and my cousins' overprotectiveness over me is one of them. Do you play any sports?" A change of subject-- one of the most popular ways of avoiding an awkward exchange, and one of Stella's personal favorites.
“Sounds great,” Raf said with a grin. He clapped his hands together, turning towards Stella and facing her. “Well…." He paused for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought before seemingly deciding on something and focusing on Stella.“I’m from Buenes Aires, Argentina. Born and raised." He smiled proudly at this, just as Stella would when talking about her home country.
Raf seemed to drift off a moment before raising a brow in amusement, opening his mouth to reply
a moment after. “Scotland, yeah?” He inquired, a grin playing his lips as he asked, “What’s that like?”
Stella considered this, biting her lip in concentration. "Well, Huntly's quite small, and rather quaint. It doesn't have a population over ten thousand-- that is, the last recorded population was under five thousand. I was homeschooled until Hogwarts, and I didn't know anyone outside of my family. The only friends I had were my siblings and my cousins.. I've got a lot of cousins." She said with a small chuckle. "We play a lot of rugby in the summer, though I'm often excluded because it can be a bit like American football--they fret too much about my well being, you see. I'm easily the best kicker in my family, but they never let me play as the fly-half because I could easily be tackled and injured." She said this with an eyeroll. It infuriated her when this happened. Most of her cousins were boys that were all older than her, and there was definitely over fifteen of them, so most of the time she could only watch them play, occasionally shouting out that she could have done better than the second-best kicker out of their family. And, really, she could. But they were afraid she was too 'frail' to be the fly-half.
She must have said this out loud, and worded it how she'd initially thought it-- with a sense of resentment, for she noticed the surprise register on Raf's face. Cringing, she shook her head. "Sorry. There are only a few things that make me sound like that, and my cousins' overprotectiveness over me is one of them. Do you play any sports?" A change of subject-- one of the most popular ways of avoiding an awkward exchange, and one of Stella's personal favorites.
You will be found~ Deh
Stella Dawson
14 Dec 2019, 04:13
First Interactions
@Stella Dawson
[font=Segoe Script] Rafa found that Stella had quite a bit to say about her life in Scotland. He listened in pure interest, taking in all the information she had to offer, an attentive gaze on his features.
"Well, Huntly's quite small, and rather quaint,” she told him. “It doesn't have a population over ten thousand-- that is, the last recorded population was under five thousand. I was homeschooled until Hogwarts, and I didn't know anyone outside of my family. The only friends I had were my siblings and my cousins.. I've got a lot of cousins. We play a lot of rugby in the summer, though I'm often excluded because it can be a bit like American football--they fret too much about my well being, you see. I'm easily the best kicker in my family, but they never let me play as the fly-half because I could easily be tackled and injured."
She told him this in a thoughtful sort of way, adding a sarcastic little eyeroll at the end for good measure. Towards the end, she seemed a bit angry, but Rafa decided not to prod too much – everyone had their personal lives, and who was he to invade? Though, soon enough, she evaluated on her feelings, telling him exactly how she felt about her cousins’ protectiveness towards her.
He could relate. Being the troublesome boy that he was, he had caused a few problems back home. But the one time it hadn't been his fault, his parents had panicked, and straight overseas they went. He had been homeschooled for the past three years, not even being allowed out of the house, and for no particularly good reason. The mere thought infuriated him. He didn’t want to focus on this too much, though, as Stella had asked him a rather interesting question.
Did he play sports? That was like asking if the sun was hot, or if iron was a metal. “Do I – hell yeah, mate,” he said, a massive lopsided grin coming to his face. “I’ve played every sport under the sun. And I mean everything.” He ran a finger through his hair for a moment, a nostalgic look crossing his features. “I’ve got these really good memories with my old football team, before we moved here. We were like brothers, we were.” He bit his lip, shaking his head with a laugh. “Got into all sorts of trouble.”
Realizing that he was rambling a bit, he quickly veered back on-topic, rubbing his neck. “Hrm… well, my best sport is football, but I can adapt to just about anything with a ball.” He racked his brain for something else to say, an inquiring look on his face. “Oh, I’m on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team – first-string chaser and all.” A prideful grin slipped onto his face, and he could do nothing to stop it.
After a quick moment of self-pride, he considered one of the comments she had previously made, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I can’t say I have a lot of cousins, but I got a lot of uncles,” he told her. A grin shone on his face, just thinking about them. “Younger ones, that is – My dad had a bunch of kid brothers, and all. It’s good fun, hanging with them. Especially watching football games.” There was nothing like a bunch of Hispanic men sitting in the living room together, crowded around a tv. Their reactions were just stronger than everyone else. A good move, and you’d find cheers going up around the whole house – a bad move, and a piece of furniture may find itself broken.
The thought of his family brought him back to his lonely three years in the house. A solemn look crossed his face, and he glanced over at Stella, giving her a half-smile. “Don’t stress their opinions too much,” he told her seriously. “How much could they really count for? I mean,” he shrugged, leaning on his knees. “I don’t know you all that well, but you don’t come across as frail or anything.” He grinned a bit at that last comment – she was definitely tough. Even if in her own friendly, playful sort of way.
[font=Segoe Script] Rafa found that Stella had quite a bit to say about her life in Scotland. He listened in pure interest, taking in all the information she had to offer, an attentive gaze on his features.
"Well, Huntly's quite small, and rather quaint,” she told him. “It doesn't have a population over ten thousand-- that is, the last recorded population was under five thousand. I was homeschooled until Hogwarts, and I didn't know anyone outside of my family. The only friends I had were my siblings and my cousins.. I've got a lot of cousins. We play a lot of rugby in the summer, though I'm often excluded because it can be a bit like American football--they fret too much about my well being, you see. I'm easily the best kicker in my family, but they never let me play as the fly-half because I could easily be tackled and injured."
She told him this in a thoughtful sort of way, adding a sarcastic little eyeroll at the end for good measure. Towards the end, she seemed a bit angry, but Rafa decided not to prod too much – everyone had their personal lives, and who was he to invade? Though, soon enough, she evaluated on her feelings, telling him exactly how she felt about her cousins’ protectiveness towards her.
He could relate. Being the troublesome boy that he was, he had caused a few problems back home. But the one time it hadn't been his fault, his parents had panicked, and straight overseas they went. He had been homeschooled for the past three years, not even being allowed out of the house, and for no particularly good reason. The mere thought infuriated him. He didn’t want to focus on this too much, though, as Stella had asked him a rather interesting question.
Did he play sports? That was like asking if the sun was hot, or if iron was a metal. “Do I – hell yeah, mate,” he said, a massive lopsided grin coming to his face. “I’ve played every sport under the sun. And I mean everything.” He ran a finger through his hair for a moment, a nostalgic look crossing his features. “I’ve got these really good memories with my old football team, before we moved here. We were like brothers, we were.” He bit his lip, shaking his head with a laugh. “Got into all sorts of trouble.”
Realizing that he was rambling a bit, he quickly veered back on-topic, rubbing his neck. “Hrm… well, my best sport is football, but I can adapt to just about anything with a ball.” He racked his brain for something else to say, an inquiring look on his face. “Oh, I’m on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team – first-string chaser and all.” A prideful grin slipped onto his face, and he could do nothing to stop it.
After a quick moment of self-pride, he considered one of the comments she had previously made, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I can’t say I have a lot of cousins, but I got a lot of uncles,” he told her. A grin shone on his face, just thinking about them. “Younger ones, that is – My dad had a bunch of kid brothers, and all. It’s good fun, hanging with them. Especially watching football games.” There was nothing like a bunch of Hispanic men sitting in the living room together, crowded around a tv. Their reactions were just stronger than everyone else. A good move, and you’d find cheers going up around the whole house – a bad move, and a piece of furniture may find itself broken.
The thought of his family brought him back to his lonely three years in the house. A solemn look crossed his face, and he glanced over at Stella, giving her a half-smile. “Don’t stress their opinions too much,” he told her seriously. “How much could they really count for? I mean,” he shrugged, leaning on his knees. “I don’t know you all that well, but you don’t come across as frail or anything.” He grinned a bit at that last comment – she was definitely tough. Even if in her own friendly, playful sort of way.
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.