DM Swift wrote:

(I missed responding to Doen a couple of passes back. Sorry)

Robyn smiles. "I'm sure they'll be happy with any names you give them. They seem to like you." She gestures, and a couple of them drop down onto her shoulders. "Meanwhile, let's get you signed up for classes appropriate to your academic level. I've got a few squirrel-related suggestions." She starts scribbling some things down.

"Aw, I like them too." Doen begins pointing at each squirrel that she can see, starting with the ones  she can see, starting with the ones on the professor's shoulders. "Okay so I think I can call you Creampuff, and you Nippy and you Dimplecloud and you Burrrowbells and you so seem like a Zippo. And you can be Startlefoot, and Lillybow, and you Monkeyjoe, you Tippytoe, and you Pattertwig, and you Meeko, and you Paddlecup, Mutterbug, Caperjoy,  and Whistlerub."  

Once she is done Doen will look at the paper the professor was writing, reading over the professor's shoulders and keeping trying to make particular note of the squirrel related classes that she would be suggesting. 

The first day of school had not been overwhelming. Not that Shiori realized it at the time, of course. Sigil was mind-bogglingly huge and full of strangeness: at any given moment there were more people visible than she'd met in her entire childhood, half of which looked like spirit-folk of some sort or another. 

But if she called it overwhelming, then that would leave her without words to describe the second day. Are all these people students? Where were they yesterday, at the Dean's speech?? She'd almost started to relax, thinking the school wouldn't be that much larger than her village, but now there are hundreds of people and she didn't recognize any of them from the auditorium and aaaaaah

Okay. Deep breaths, Shiori. You are a ninja of the Inoue clan. You can do this. Remember your training. Except the bit about slaying your target without hesitation or mercy, that bit probably doesn't apply here. She'll leave that out. Survey the terrain, get in unseen, strike fast - metaphorically, in this case - and get out. Easy. 

Step one takes about half an hour: fifteen minutes of actual surveying, five minutes of feeling overwhelmed and resisting the urge to flee someplace quieter, and ten minutes of trying to figure out how to stealthily approach the registration tents before giving up and just getting in line. "Hello, excuse me. My name is Inoue Shiori, I am here to register for the Rogue and Monk programs? Is this the right place?"

The dark-haired woman at the M to Z tent nods at Simon. "Sure," she sets the pizza boxes on the table, glances at them. "You need to dump pizzas?" She shakes her head and finds his packet. "Everything seems to be in order, I..." She jerks around quickly, looking for something that isn't there. "Sorry. I thought I heard my roommate. Yes, it all seems to be in order. Need any help deciphering anything?" She responds similarly to Shiori, who is directly behind  Simon in line.

One tent over, the elf behind the table finds Hano's packet. "It seems like everything's, like, totally good with your registration. You'll be in Azer Hall, which, weirdly enough, seems like I've said a whole lot today."

In the Grove, the squirrels all seem to respond well to their names as Robyn finishes up Doen's paperwork. "I think you'll be satisfied with this. Do you have any questions?"

"Oh, yeah. Azer Dorm is..." the pixie starts, but Creig puts his hand over Kel's face.
"Yeah, Azer's one of the off-campus dorms. You take this main road off the campus for about seventeen blocks and turn right onto Hickman Drive. You'll see a place called 'Illegitimate Spice Dealers.' That's actually Azer Dorm, but they like to keep it secret. Knock twice and ask for Bernie."

 

"Yes, I have a question," Shiori says after glancing through the packet. "It says classes do not start for a week? That doesn't seem right."

"Oh, so it is just food." Nonetheless, Simon turns one of the boxes toward himself before opening it. He had seen the Boromar Clan sneak any number of tiny, ravenous dinosaurs into any number of containers. "Some orc guy tossed these at a kid with a walking stick, who said something really weird and passed them to me." He steps aside for the next person in line. "He was like, "I can't own these!", whatever that means."

Assuming the boxes do just contain pizza, he asks, "What class do I take if I want to get an uncontrollable magical gift under control?" The boss insisted on calling it a gift. "I was signed up as a Rogue major, but I've got something kind of urgent to deal with."

Last edited by RdMarquis (2/16/2018 5:44 pm)