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 Posted: Mon Jan 10, 2011 6:00 am
Ashford shuffled into the cafeteria, his shiny oxford loafers scuffing against the tile. His mind was buzzing with the events of his first few days at the school, which had thankfully been relatively unremarkable. He'd arrived, unpacked his few belongings, and was determined to at least try to integrate with the general populace.
Whether or not he'd successful, though.. that would be the rub. For the time being, he had just escaped from the deathgrip of History of Halloweentown 101, where it had quickly become apparent that he had lived in perpetual blissful ignorance on the borders of the town itself. The entire first chapter had been eye opening, and he was casually flipping through the textbook at lunch, squinting out from under his helm.
He wasn't allowed to have it, most of the time. But class was let out early, and Ashford had a few spare minutes to run back to the Reaper dorms to snag the precious object before grabbing Grub.
He was just so nervous without it. It felt like not wearing clothes, like being blind with no glasses, deaf with no hearing aid, in the human world with no FEAR.
The only problem? The rusty, spiral patterned object made him stick out like a glaring sore thumb. Not that he'd noticed.
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Posted: Mon Jan 10, 2011 7:09 pm
"Okay, okay. Guys? Guys! Hey! Okay! Watch this!" Merope beckoned to his audience. They were a ragtag assortment of mostly undead students --even in the cafeteria, most non-dead species tended to stay as far away as possible in order to avoid losing their appetite. That didn't stop them from rolling their eyes as the lost fathoms leviathan threw a unknown substance (it was better to not look too closely at it) up and into the air, trying to catch it in his mouth.
Unsurprisingly, he missed.
"Oof! Okay, okay, I got it this time!" He cried out, tossing it up and into the air yet again. This time, however, the piece went too far up, too far back. It landed with a soft squelch on Ashford's helm, sitting at the table behind him.
"Hey! Where'd it go?"
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Posted: Wed Jan 12, 2011 7:30 pm
He'd heard little of note in the din; the sounds tended to echo a little, and blend together into one soundwave under his helm. He ate slowly, bringing his utensils under the helm in a steady, metered manner. Lest he accidentally, you know, gore his nose or something with a fork.
It was straight up mortifying when that happened.
He did recognize the soft, squishy sound of ...something against his helm. It left some faint vibrations, and he shook his head just a little to clear it.
The reaper slowly turned his head towards where he guesstimated the object had come from. The sloppy substance dripped down his helmet with the viscosity of maple syrup.
He was kind of off, looking at some poor undead soul instead. "What...is on my helm?" he asked, but honestly, he was half talking to himself. Gloved or not, he wasn't sure if he wanted to reach up and touch the mysterious substance.
Most of the food that their cafeteria offered...well. Scared him.
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Posted: Wed Jan 12, 2011 7:56 pm
He didn't throw it up at the ceiling, did he? Merope didn't want to look up there to see. The last time he looked up there still made him cringe whenever he enters the cafeteria. It's one of the reasons why he doesn't sit at that particular table anymore, worried about whatever went up would soon come down.
At the very least, the undead boil was very pleased that the person behind him wasn't hul- okay maybe he was. His green eyes flickered uncertainly as he turned to stare at the helm, pinning his wings down flat against his back. "Um." Merope announced. "That's my lunch. Actually, could you stay there a second? Let me just -- there!" He leaned forward and plucked it off, tossing it into his mouth quickly. "Mmph! Delish! Oh wait, sorry, did you want it...?"
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