life breaks new ground; Easton

[Renata Mancini]

Renata glanced at her watch as she scribbled down the conclusion to the paper she was writing in the common room before breakfast. Definitely enough time to finish it. She could totally do it and get down to breakfast. It wouldn’t be the best conclusion she had ever written, but the conclusion was only a repetition of the introduction so what did it matter anyway. She shouldn’t have put it off; she knew that, but papers were just so hard and focussing on the papers was even harder. Especially when it was sunny outside. So instead of writing this paper yesterday like she should have, she had gone for a run in the snow. The sound of the snow crunching under her shoes and the crisp air on the grounds had been a thousand times more satisfying than being trapped in the library for hours watching her sister fly through four assignments while she suffered through this one. And it had meant that she had been able to swing by the Pitch and check the sign-up sheets for reserving the field for practice today. She had a nice chunk of time in the middle of the afternoon that she could be spending on her broom, but the slot had already been reserved. One of the Hufflepuffs had gotten it already. Disappointing.

Easton. She didn’t know him personally, but she had had Cole point out who was on the other teams so that she would familiarize herself with their faces at least. She wondered if he would be okay with sharing the field. It was definitely big enough for more than one person to use it at the same time and it wasn’t as though she was going to be flying around the whole area, just contained to one little spot. She wanted to work on her standing flips; she was this close to nailing them. She would ask him when she went down to breakfast. Two birds with one stone, eating before class and, hopefully, getting some time on the field. She rolled up the parchment that she had just hastily finished, now that she was distracted by her new goal. She shoved everything into her bag and threw it over her shoulder. Everything shifted inside the bag with the momentum and she hoped that the professor wouldn’t mind a slightly crumpled assignment, it was done and that was what counted in her opinion. She stepped through the portrait hole and headed down to the main hall, her hand dragging along the stone of the hallway as she walked. It really was a beautiful place.


Ren walked into the Great Hall slowly, her eyes moving back and forth to see everything that they possibly could. It didn’t matter that she ate every meal in this hall and that she had lived in this castle for almost a month. Every time that she walked into the Great Hall she fell a little more in love with this new school and its majestic architecture. She waved at the friends that she had made in the past few weeks, sitting at the Gryffindor table but walked past it towards the Hufflepuff table instead. Her eyes scanned the table looking for one specific person; she hadn’t actually met him before, but she had a general idea of who he was. And, there. She headed towards the empty seat next to him, sliding onto it backwards. Her back hit the table behind her lightly and she rested her elbows on it comfortably. “Hey you’re Easton, yeah? Hi, I’m Renata, call me Ren. Nice to meet you.” She grinned broadly, hoping that her forwardness wasn’t going to bother him too much because she wasn’t going to lessen it any. It was just part of her personality. “So, I noticed that you’re signed up to use the Quidditch Pitch this afternoon, and I was wondering if you would, perhaps, be open to sharing that time slot? I promise you won’t even know that I’m there!”

[Easton Oswald]

“Hey you’re Easton, yeah? Hi, I’m Renata, call me Ren. Nice to meet you.” People didn't really approach him. Dale said he had a constant 'fuck off' stamped on his forehead. Though, this woman didn't seem at all bothered by his lack of warmth, and she was just watching him, like they were friends....and he didn't know this girl. Well, he knew of her. Everybody knew ofher in that she was one of the only two new students they had gotten all year. In the middle of the year no less. His gaze appraising as he waited for her to walk away, which she should have, walked away. They couldn't have any business together outside of classwork, and he hadn't even worked all of the honey into his hot cereal yet...class business could wait. His spoon was poised half into the bowl as he blinked over at her. Too close for comfort, he was going to elbow her on accident, and she was going to take it personally. He could just tell. Or worse, she wasn't and was going to use it as an ever running joke between them that he just, didn't want. Though from those large blinking eyes, she didn't seem like she was going to leave him alone to eat either, not until she was satisfied. Clearly, his cereal was going to have to wait. Technically anyway, he stuck the empty spoon in his mouth to have a reason to keep from talking regardless. Easton's gaze lifted slowly to the woman now seated next to him without answering. Probably the main reason why so many people thought that he was such a rude person. He just didn't like to talk. His accent was too rounded, just different enough from everybody here that it made him unusual and he didn't like to bother with it. He didn't need to talk to most people anyway, and certainly not his friends. They just let him – be. To exist next to them and most of the time that was more than enough for him.

“So, I noticed that you’re signed up to use the Quidditch Pitch this afternoon, and I was wondering if you would, perhaps, be open to sharing that time slot? I promise you won’t even know that I’m there!” The field was big enough to share, everybody knew that. However, Scott would murder him if he shared the air space. If she had been in the same house as he was, or even just...not on the team and wanting to get better for class, then it would have been fine. But The twins worked hard on their plays, didn't want anybody stealing them. He wanted to help her, he did. Though, that would mean giving up his time slot all together. Which, wouldn't work. As for the not knowing that she was there, unlikely. She was comfortable just marching up to him, she had to be okay with inserting herself into any business she felt she was needed in. But of course, Easton said nothing. Sat, and stared at her for a touch longer than was needed, before turning back to his cereal with a very definite shake 'no' of his head, scooping off the part that was only honey and berries and stuck a honey/sugar coated blackberry into his mouth. Trying not to be rude about it, but he wasn't giving up his spot all together, and he had drills he needed to work on, he wasn't the fastest player. He was strong, but he really wasn't the best at all the rest of it, he needed the time. She was small, and no doubt plenty fast, she could work with Foster for more time.

[Renata Mancini]

He had stuck his spoon in his mouth before she had even finished introducing herself. It was rather hard to talk with things in your mouth. She, of all people, would know; she also happened to know the exact ratio of how much stuff she could fit in her mouth and still manage to speak, so she was pretty much an expert in the matter. She waited expectantly when she had finished presenting her idea, her face pleasant as ever, and he just stared at her. She just needed a yes, a tiny little yes and then she would be out of his hair until she saw him on the Pitch later. Instead, he shook his head back and forth no and turned back to his breakfast, as though that was just going to be that. Well, that just wasn’t going to do it for her. She was so close to nailing this trick, and if she could just practice a little more she was sure that she could get it. There had to be a way to convince him otherwise. She swung a leg over the bench so that she was straddling it and facing him fully, making sure not to kick him in the process because that probably would win her any points. “Is it because I’m on the other team?” Everyone was extra competitive here for some reason. It was pretty intense back at Salem, but there each team had always been friendly enough to share field space between individual players; it just felt like a real waste otherwise. She looked at the cereal he was focusing on, looking for an angle. “Would it make any difference at all if I said I wasn’t practicing for Quidditch?” Because she really wasn’t. Did they even do trick flying over here? They had to, or at the very least recognize it, though she was pretty sure that there were at least a couple foreigners in the championships last year.

And if he was worried about her watching him, she wouldn’t. She was going to be far more worried about not cracking her head open by missing her landing. With that wonderfully gruesome thought, she figured she wasn’t even going to be flying very high, just hovering really, after she had warmed up. He definitely wasn’t going to notice she was there if she was so close to the ground while he was running drills or whatever he was going to be doing. She wasn’t even sure what position he played off the top of her head, she just barely knew her own team by name and position. She looked towards him again. So quiet. “Not much of a talker, are you?” She grabbed a piece of toast off the table next to her. She didn’t think that there were rules about eating at your own table at meals. If there were she could always play the new girl card, try for the idea that no one had told her. Which was pretty true, they kind of just let her loose without too much of an explanation of how the this whole system worked. It wasn’t like she had wandered over to sit at her sister’s table and started chatting with everyone, which was apparently frowned upon by her house. Whatever. They weren’t going to stop her from talking to her sister, regardless of some stupid unspoken ‘rules.’ She buttered her toast absently, sloppily, like she always did, with one of the knives that had been lying in front of her. She wasn’t very good at asking permission to borrow or use things all the time. “That’s alright, I might have been told a few times that I talk enough for a couple people.” It may have been more than a few times; and it may have been more in the way of being told she just never shut up. Semantics really.