1935-08-14: Equations Of Discontent

Equations of Discontent
IC Date	08/14/1935
OOC Date	03/01/2012
Location	Central London — Central Diagon Alley — Flourish and Blott's
Cast	Fern Angelus
Description	A new student has a question for an older one. Fern is confrontational; Angelus is not impressed.

Setting: Central London — Central Diagon Alley — Flourish and Blott's
Flourish and Blott's is the premier bookstore for anyone purchasing books in preparation to attend Hogwarts. The bookstore's two stories of walls are completely lined with shelves, most of the accessed by a rolling ladder with the exception of the back wall which has a loft attached to it that can be reached by climbing a graceful curving staircase. The open floor space in the middle of the store has freestanding bookcases that house the newest releases as well as the books currently assigned for the present year at Hogwarts to make them as easy to find as possible.
Curtains hanging from rods decorate the windows in this room.

+ Fern Goodacre

Fern is a young girl with a wealth of freckles. She has fair skin, dark brown eyes, stands about 4'9" tall, and is approximately 90 pounds. Her hair is ash brown and typically worn in plaits.
Fern has the look of an active and healthy child, and carries herself in a way that suggests she has a lot of energy under careful control. Pretty in the "cutesy" sort of way, her heart shaped face is awash with freckles, with the largest patch sweeping from the sides of her rounded nose to run along the tops of plump cheeks. She has an oddly small and thin-lipped mouth. Fern has a child's piping voice, with a neutral southernly accent overlaying just a hint of Cockney.
Fern is wearing a knee-length sacque dress, such as might be seen on a thousand other girls her age: it comes complete with the requisite short puffy sleeves of summertime and a neat white collar. The cloth is cotton of the somewhat cheaper variety, and old enough that its green calico pattern is beginning to fade. The dress is nevertheless quite well maintained, with nary a tear (repaired or otherwise) or stain to be seen. Fern wears well-shined shoes, paired with neatly arrayed ankle socks. A solitary touch of borderline whimsy is added to an otherwise practical outfit with the little blue bakelite fish that adorns a hairclip holding a piece of hair securely away from Fern's face.

+ Angelus Eibon

Angelus is a boy with a lot of pride. He has light coloured skin, blue eyes, stands about 4'10" tall, and is approximately 90 pounds. His hair is blonde and wavy.
He wasn't tall or short, but for his age he was within average height. His stature wasn't exactly weak looking, but it was clear he wasn't particularly strong. Instead, he looked more agile, an athletic form that was in shape. Blonde hair and blue eyes were traits received from his mother, taking after her looks more than his father's. His hair was cut at the neck; it sat on top of his head in waves with his bangs just over the eyes so that the tips just barely met them. His facial features were smooth rather than sharp, his cheeks, jaws, and chin all tracing down in a soft line. Angelus could often enough carry a bright smile on his face, but could just as easily drop into a dissatisfied frown.
Angelus is wearing elegant robes made out of silk and cotton. Cyan and white swirl and mix together, creating patterns over the robes. White lines spin decoratively over a cyan background, some lines wide, tapering, and others thin and thread-like. The robes flow like the sea around the form, the sleeves cascading largely. Mostly made out of cotton, the sides and a wedge of fabric in front are made out of silk.

Here's a shocking fact: English summers are prone to be damp. A soft rain is bouncing off Diagon Alley's charming cobblestones, gleaming on umbrellas and mackintoshes. It's not an unpleasant drizzle, really, but most people are choosing not to frolic in it anyway: the pedestrians on the street are moving quickly, skirting puddles as they disappear into shops or down alleys, scurrying to be home in time for supper.

One of those shops is Flourish and Blott's, which is settling into a comfortable quiet prelude to closing time. The shopkeeper is flitting around, dusting and organizing, while a handful of patrons still explore the shelves. Two of those patrons may be found in the forward shelves housing the schoolbooks: a pleasant looking elderly woman, plump, bespectacled, and either a Muggle or an admirer of their fashions - and a young girl, equally Muggle in dress, whose pretty freckled face is marred by an enormous frown as the two confer over a history book.

Angelus was one such person who came in out of the rain. He'd been browsing around the section with all the potions books, but was slowly heading toward where the woman and young girl were. Adorned in somewhat fancy robes, at least ones that probably cost a bit of money, Angelus looked away from the shelves and around the store. His blue eyes fall on Fern, considering quietly before he finished his approach. "I take it you'd rather be somewhere else?" It was said in a quiet tone, trying to say it for the girl alone.

"Yes," is Fern's response, pointblank. Her companion - a relative, probably, there's a subtle resemblance to their facial features - rolls her eyes, indulgent, then pats the girl on the shoulder. "He looks about your age," the woman observes, giving Angelus a pleasant nod before stepping away towards another shelf. Fern looks after her, surprised. A subtle variation on the frown: this one's a bit more petulant. With a soft sigh, her attention flicks to Angelus. "Do you go to Hogwarts?" Her accent's hard to place, other than a faint Cockney undertone.

There's a wide grin on his features at her quick answer. But the boy, acting polite and responsible, especially around adults, gave a bob of his head to the woman. "Hullo, ma'am." But Angelus was far more interested in the girl, bringing his blue eyes back on her with a soft smile flickering about his lips. "Yes," he answered her. "I'm Angelus," he offered calmly.

"Angelus?" The girl tests the name, bemused and mildly disapproving. "Nice to meet you," she offers, obviously uncertain if that statement was TRUE. "I'm Fern Goodacre." Not one to linger on the pleasantries, her dark eyes flick back towards the bookshelves, roaming from the history section on over to DADA. "I'm just wondering, is all," she questions, gaze returning to his face, "why there aren't any normal subjects except history? Where's Composition? Or Latin?" A further variation upon the Frown: this one's more puzzled. "It looks like there's loads of Latin in magic from what I can figure, so why isn't there a Latin textbook to pick up?"

"But you can just use Gel," Angelus added in, as a response to her testing his name. His eyes locked on the girl, studying her silently for several moments with a raised brow. "Hmm." He drew in a breath, rubbing his forehead with his fingers, closing his eyes briefly. Angelus lifted his shoulders, his mouth twitching with a partial smile. "Probably," he answered the girl, "because wizards don't value those subjects." He moved his shoulders again. "I guess if you wanted to you could learn them separately." He blinked, giving her another silent look over. "So you're new to all of this?" Angelus couldn't quite hide the unimpressed tone of his voice.

"Well /that's/ silly." Fern doesn't hesitate to speak her mind, apparently. "What's wrong with composition? Or science, or maths?" She shoots a glance towards her relative, who now is picking carefully through a coffee table book, evidently charmed by the moving images. Fern scowls. "Wish I was going to a /normal/ school," the girl mutters, more to herself than the older boy, as her attention slowly drifts back. "And yes." The girl draws her shoulders up, all 4 foot 9 of her dripping with dignity. "I am."

What smile still existed simply just faded slowly. "Silly because the school doesn't teach subjects that can be taught in regular, mundane schools?" His body movements seemed more reserved. "Hogwarts concentrate on subjects that are too dangerous to learn on your own. Does that not interest you?" Angelus shifted in his stance, stepping to the side and closer to the shelves. After a glimpse at the books, his body turned further to the books, he shot a glance back at the girl. "If you aren't happy with wizards school, why are you changing?"

"I don't /know/ if they interest me or not," Fern replies, unbowed by the signs of his disapproval. He's only an inch taller than she is, and turned away besides: nevertheless, the girl lifts her chin, unrepentantly confrontational. "I just know I don't understand why they won't be teaching /maths/, /along/ with the other things." His last question makes her lips purse; this time it's Fern who turns pointedly away, head tilting to stare up at a higher shelf. She rocks up onto her toes, peering at the moving text of a title. "None of your business why I'm going."

Angelus shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to one side as he shakes it slowly. "Fair enough," he said quietly. The boy smirks, followed by a low laugh. "Well if you really want maths, you could always take Arithmancy if you make to your third year." Angelus shook his head, gave her a focused stare for several seconds, and then smiled pleasantly, offering her a bob of his head. "Fern," he said calmly and coolly, "I, at least, hope I'll be seeing more of you at school."

"Or I teach /myself/ algebra," is Fern's ready retort, "so I don't become a dunce." There's no smiling or laughing to be found here - Gel doing it makes her visibly bristle, though her eyes remain focused pointedly on the books in front of her. "Mmph," is all she has to say to his pleasantries, sidestepping pointedly away towards another bookcase.

A wide smile returned to his features as Angelus watched her. "Oh, she'll be fun," he said as if something meant for himself, but just loud enough for her to hear as she moved off elsewhere. "Until we meet again, Fern - it was an enlightening." The boy will turn back to the books then, too, moving along in another direction.