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Dea Slate and Sloane Rissanna
We balance each other out
Thu Oct 7, 2010 8:17pm
108.12.172.137

Dea Slate and Sloane Rissanna had never met. However, they both did happen to sit down at the same table at the Opening Feast, to encounter a right fresh-looking newcomer.

Slate perked up immediately at the chance to show someone the ropes. His way. "Just name the grossest thing you can think of, and your food shows up. It's kinda like our secret password."

The speech meant very little too him. He wasn't excited about Prof. Locke taking over Ninth. . . she never let anything get out of hand, and gave out more detentions than all the other teachers combined. Last year he had almost gotten really mad in her class, and didn't do homework for a week out of spite for having been given so much. She was going to be a huge hassle as his head of house. Other than that, he didn't want to hear about someone else getting to turn into a giant squid if it wasn't him. And he didn't care about any of the professors.

Sloane, however, diagonal from him, already having whispered to her plate to present her with a portion of wasabi ahi tuna, sat chewing quietly beside the newcomer. She didn't answer his question, still pondering over the speech. If Locke was Head of Ninth, their parties were over, and that house would be a lot harder to infiltrate. Anderson in Quesne, though . . . Well, suddenly a lot of doors swung wide open. Furthermore, Abigail Greene could now turn into something. Sloane wanted to know what. And Grace was distracted and morose. Winchester was distracted and beaming.

And now Sloane's mother was talking about a double wedding, herself and Damon Clay with Dominic and someone-or-other. That kind of talk she hadn't been paying attention to. Her mother had noticed her disinterest and tried to console her, offering, "If you two need time apart, you can live in the villa in Marseilles and he can vacation in Brest."

Sloane had almost interrupted that she liked the house in Brest better, but villas in France seemed like a trap into that conversation. She didn't even know how far along the planning was, IF it had even gotten that far, but suspected that she'd be attending her own engagement party this Christmas.

"Why don't I know you?" Slate demanded of Sloane, suddenly, bringing her head over to peer at him. But she shrugged, neutrally, and looked in the other direction. He eyed her suspiciously and then looked back over at the new kid. "I'm Slate," he offered, waiting for the boy to order food.

  • Consider me underwhelmedTorn Winston, Tue Oct 5 10:49pm
    Torn Winston had found the Rakin commons just in time to drop his stuff off in the first year boys' dorm room and follow a few older students down to Backwoods Court. He was new, yet unlike many of... more
    • We balance each other out — Dea Slate and Sloane Rissanna, Thu Oct 7 8:17pm
      • Talkative vs. silent. Yup!Torn, Thu Oct 7 9:19pm
        Torn gave Slate a long, hard glance, suddenly wishing he paid more attention to what had been going on around him. Everyone seemed to have food on their plates, even Slate, and it looked like normal... more
        • Devious cop, Mean as Hell copSlate and Sloane, Fri Oct 8 10:21am
          It was so unfair that no one ever fell for Slate's trick. He tried to shrug like it didn't matter, but really, he was kinda peeved. Nothing cool ever happened here, except for last year with the... more
          • Bumblebee TunaTorn, Fri Oct 8 1:09pm
            Torn wasn’t used to talking all that much. Around the family table—yes, for a family with low morals and ethical behavior, his parents always insisted on a family meal at least once a week—his older... more
            • Short on post titles?Sloane and Slate, Fri Oct 8 7:51pm
              Sloane was listening to the conversation intently, as well as the one going on to her other side. She was trying to also listen to the one behind her - at another table - but someone there kept... more
              • Just interesting onesTorn, Fri Oct 8 9:43pm
                Slate was off on a tangent about the teachers. Torn wondered briefly just what year he was in—along with the girl beside him. It was a little unnerving with her sitting beside him, doing nothing but... more
                • Exercise those creative musclesEmma Westbrook, Fri Oct 8 10:36pm
                  Emma spent the summer listening to her father bitch her mother out for wearing the wrong color blue at a party they had hosted in a summer house down in Cancun. Aside from that colorful assortment of ... more
                  • They're right below your thigh musclesSloane and Slate, Fri Oct 8 10:49pm
                    Slate stared wide-eyed at Sloane to hear the answer to Torn's question. He wanted to know, too. He only sort of knew who she was, from seeing her around. She was in his year but she was one of those... more
                    • I'm outta shapeTorn, Fri Oct 8 11:32pm
                      Sloane was pretty, Torn decided. He was absently tearing his bread apart, placing the bits in rows on his plate. He kept stealing glances at her out of the corner of his eye; the fact that she was in ... more
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