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Brinley Grisham

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Repository ☆ First Year Cait
11 year old Pureblood Human ☆ He/Him

Waylon and Edmund had offered to drive Brinley to school--all the way from Melbourne, which would have been a hell of a feat even if it hadn’t involved them closing their shop for a full day. Brinley assured them that he was fine to go alone--he wouldn’t run off, and he wasn’t so violent that he couldn’t be trusted in a cab by himself. In the end they’d agreed, though Waylon had seemed reluctant as he packed Brinley’s trunk into the boot of the cab. He’d handed Brinley a few coins--for lunch, he’d said--as if Brinley didn’t already have a sizeable pursefull on his person--and then he’d given Brinley what had to be the most awkward half-hug on the planet before finally letting him leave.

Brinley spent the cab ride reading the potions quarterly that had arrived the evening prior, and barely noticed the distance until he felt the distinct rumbling of gravel beneath the vehicle. He sat up then, peering out the window at the trees that flicked past as they made their way up the dirt road. This couldn’t be right. This was his new school?

His distaste only grew when the cabbie finally stopped in front of a weather-worn building that looked more like a farmhouse than a proper educational establishment. Brinley’s nose wrinkled slightly in distaste. Having spent the past nine months in a proper castle, he couldn’t imagine that this was what his life had fallen to--a shabby collection of mismatched buildings.

Even as he thought it, he forced himself to lean forward and hand the cabbie a tip through the partition before pushing open the side door and stepping outside. It was cool outside--not cold, exactly, but cooler than it would have been in England this time of year--and he was grateful he’d chosen his thick outer robe in lieu of his thinner school uniform. There would be plenty of time to change.

He hauled his trunk out of the boot and waved the cabbie off. Only when the cabbie had left did Brinley allow himself to wonder what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to meet someone? Go somewhere specific? His hand went automatically to the pocket-knife he kept sequestered in his robes, and his skin began to crawl with a familiar itch, but he pushed the sensation away. Later, perhaps, when he learned the location of his dormitories and had a bit of privacy.

He spotted someone walking by, and as much as it pained him to admit his ignorance he stepped towards them. “Pardon? My apologies for the interruption. I’m a transfer student, and I haven’t received entirely clear instructions as to where I’m supposed to go first. Any ideas?”

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Spencer ☆ Sixth Year ☆ Guitarist/Vocalist - Local School Hero!✩ Kaitore
19* year old Halfbreed Sorceraic ☆ HE/HIM

Today, like most of the days recently, had been relatively cool and it was a welcomed change. After spending most of the beginning part of the year sweating like an Ogre in a small room it was only to be welcomed that he could catch a proper breath of fresh air. This, however, also meant he had to carry Sapphire in a new way trying to protect the guitar from the much more harsher elements that often swung about within the brisker environment. As such he had been lugging around a sturdily made guitar case with a strong black leather. A bit heavier than he was used to but he had luckily been taking care of himself physically much more than in recent years, it was a boon, a sore boon. 

Often, he'd leave school early in the morning to head off to a secluded place and just play without worry of waking another student up or even just being a natural disturbance at a time when he just needed to forget the ways of the world for a quick moment. Returning back to Tallygarunga it wasn't hard to notice that a cab sped by him towards that direction and in that brief encounter he hadn't thought much of it. A few students and other personnel commuted to and from the school and some just preferred to conserve their energy for the day by taking a ride. 

Things started to make much more sense once he had finally arrived at the front of the Gawler Building where the driver had been sitting in his seat while what seemed to be a young boy was totting around his own baggage. Either the kid liked to handle stuff himself or that Driver didn't get the manual on being a courtesy sort, before Alexander could even offer a proper hand the bags were already out and within the grasp of its owner. A short shrug flowed from him at this point since at least things had been settled and handled before he could arrive which was a benefit in its own way. 

The boy was new, that much he was certain, the way he carried himself almost looked as if he were lost. What he didn't expect was being stopped and legitimately asked a question. He may as well have labeled himself the new-person greeting committee. 

"Ah, you're not interrupting anything, Little man. What's up?" He flashed his usual brief smile as he lowered his gaze to look towards him for a better evaluation. He seemed well, considering a first stay of school Alex surmised he was handling it better than most people. Then again he had been meeting very rare and interesting breed of people so that shock wasn't as impactful. "Sure! I can help you out a bit. Did you at least get your House assignment? That might help out a bit. Give us a bit of direction to start off in.

Alex's hand extended out towards Brinley as he started to clear his throat. "The names Alexander, but everyone calls me Alex. Simpler, casual, and lets face it I send less like some old guy in his seventies."

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Repository ☆ First Year Cait
11 year old Pureblood Human ☆ He/Him

As the person he’d approached turned to face him, Brinley began to make observations. He’d read once that in the first seven seconds of meeting someone, eleven assumptions were made. Sure enough, as his eyes scanned the older student, his brain began working rapid-fire.

1.) Long hair – Hippie?

2.) Guitar case as well; definitely a hippie.

3.) Casual Language—Probably ill bred

4.) Maybe even a muggleborn

The older boy continued to speak. Brinley wrinkled his nose at the term little man5.) Agist—and then forced himself to smile when offered assistance, even as his mind connected to 6.) Goody-Goody.

“Ravenclaw,” Brinley said automatically when he was asked for his house assignment. Immediately his ears and the back of his neck burned with embarrassment. He shook his head slightly. “Apologies. Habits. Um… Platypus?”

He couldn’t remember the name of it, except that it had sounded like someone had been AK’d before they finished saying whatever word they were working on.

7.) Alexander was at least a proper name. Score one for breeding?

8.) But then he went by Alex, which was a slap in the face to those who named him. One against breeding.

9.) Said the word “casual” as if it were something to be proud of. Definitely muggleborn.

10.) And agist.

11.) And ill-bred. Who taught their children to introduce themselves without surnames?

“Brinley Grisham.” Brinley dropped his hand away from the handle of his luggage so that he could offer it to the older boy. Decorum, after all. “First year.” The word again rose to his lips, but he swallowed it down, not allowing himself the luxury of complaint. Instead, he offered a stiff, “It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance… Alex.”

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Spencer ☆ Sixth Year ☆ Guitarist/Vocalist - Local School Hero!✩ Kaitore
19* year old Halfbreed Sorceraic ☆ HE/HIM

The wrinkled nose, it was clear he had hit a nerve a bit but it was to be expected. Can't always hit off easily with every person and he had to admit a lot of the people he knew were more teeth cutting at first, but they turned out to be not only interesting but good people in their own way. Instantly, however, he knew there was something different about him and maybe it was just the fact he was new. But it was something he often picked up from people who were outside of Australia, a different form of dignity that was upheld. 

Sure enough the moment he responded with 'Ravenclaw' it gave more way towards that very assumption which prompted a slight smile to tug at the corner of his lips. "Ravenclaw, huh? If I remember they're often the more studious and inquisitive of Hogwarts, yea?" He hadn't met many people from Hogwarts but two of people who happened to be important in his life were from the school albeit not from that House. "Platypus, huh? Yea, that seems to fit then, Sturt House then. Our own bookworms but they always tend to be so much more on the surface than that.

Apologies? Internally it made Alexander chuckle at least he wasn't too far off the mark, he must either have come from a family that was well off and prioritized a more formal stance on speech. "It's no big deal, I get the sudden change. Can throw you off and then having to adjust can be an irritating process." That was how it felt when he came from Greyheme and it was primarily because of the change in school model in comparison. 

"Brinley Grisham. . . A name of dignity and intellect." It's often stated a persons name can often pinpoint their personality, not an exact science, yet rarely has it been untrue from his personal experience. "I'm a sixth year myself but pretty new to the School. It's different, er. . . Rustic." That was the nicest way he could perhaps describe Tallygarunga, at least in some areas of the building. But it was home and he had grown to enjoy and even admire it in such a short time. 

"At any rate, it's nice to meet you too, Brinley." Alex's unique blue eyes scanned the area for a moment. "Need any help with your bags? If we get them to the front some of the Elves will swoop in and take it to the destination. They're really efficient like that.

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Repository ☆ First Year Cait
11 year old Pureblood Human ☆ He/Him

Brinley’s lips twisted slightly in surprise when Alex knew what Ravenclaw was, but he merely nodded. When Alex clarified that the platypus belonged to Sturt house, Brinley frowned slightly in recognition. Sturt he repeated silently, determined to keep it in his head this time. Like the word “sturdy” if the speaker were hanged halfway through saying it. In reality, he supposed it was a last name, though not of a family he immediately recognized. He wondered if that were due to breeding—were Sturts muggleborns, or had they died out since the founding of the school?—or if it were simply due to a lack of familiarity with the Great Families of Australia.

At the term bookworm, Brinley made a face. In a dry voice—the closest Brinley came to joking—he said, ”I liked the term studious better. I’m no bostrichidae.”

It was a little-known fact that bookworms weren’t worms at all, but the larvae of a certain species of beetle. Little-known, that is, unless you needed crushed bookworms for potions-making.

Brinley straightened at Alex’s interpretation of his name. Dignity and intellect. He liked that analysis.

He blinked in surprise when Alex admitted being new to the school. ”Oh? I wouldn’t have guessed. Where did you begin your education?”

The term rustic was a bit of an understatement, but Brinley nodded anyway. At least he wasn’t the only one wholly unimpressed by the institution’s exterior. He found himself adjusting his view of Alex ever so slightly. Maybe the older boy wasn’t entirely ill-bred.

”I can get my trunk,” Brinley said. ”Thank you.” He carried it to the front of the school as Alex had indicated even as his mind swirled with the new information. ”I thought—at least, my uncles had said—that house elves were emancipated in this country years ago. Is that untrue?”

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Spencer ☆ Sixth Year ☆ Guitarist/Vocalist - Local School Hero!✩ Kaitore
19* year old Halfbreed Sorceraic ☆ HE/HIM

He hadn't considered that others from Hogwarts would be surprised about the knowledge of Houses in another nation. Of course, Alexander also knew that information and knowledge could only be gained outside of the usual realms if a person is looking for it or if that information holds people who harbor such wisdom. In this case it was the latter and it just happened to be in the people that surrounded his everyday life on top of the few Professors who weren't native to Australia. The slight shift in expression wasn't missed after he had labeled the house 'Sturt' as the proper one. "Ha! Yeah, it does sound a bit odd, eh? While the House names may seem a bit weird the people can sometimes be even weirder. But. . . They're good people for the most part.

Every school had its bullies, every house had its undesirables but those he had chosen to surround himself with were slight differences to that view. 

"Hehe, I don't blame you. Studious sounds much more. . . Proper, less of a joke laden slap in the face." A grin made itself known on his face. "No, you're not one of those. But you have to admit their shells are pretty useful and sometimes nice to look at." Since he had been taking Potions and Alchemy a bit more seriously due to personal revelation he had been upping the ante of his knowledge with ingredients, even down to the more scientifically exact type and sub-type origin. Either way, he found out that the young lad before him held a bite to him. Probably a sharp wit that'd cut a wound as quickly as it'd solve a problem if he was giving a hastened guess. 

Alex's head tilted left to right for a moment as he started to lead the way and further into the School's grounds. "Greyheme, It's a private wizarding school specifically for boys. High end and expensive you can probably find most of the cream of the crop in society there." Those whom either had families with extensive pulling or were new money families trying to poke a hole into the usual regime. Recent years and the usual view point of most Australian wizards weren't typically harsh when it came to heritage but there were always 'Those few' who wanted to believe otherwise. 

"No problem, and no your uncles are right on the money there!" He felt now he needed to clarify it up a bit, it could send the wrong impression now that he thought of it all. "Years of programmed change is hard to break, even more so when were you had no freedom you have this now, newly scary adventure waiting before you." Cobalt eyes lifted up to stare at the top of the Gawler Building before leveling back down to the entryway. "Many, who know only how to work, especially those in their Elder years refuse to break it because it just doesn't make sense to them. They're paid and given lodgings and what not, things they're used to but they are always free to leave and stop if they want.

He pinched the inside of his cheeks with the edge of his teeth, gently gnawing on it for a moment in thought. "It's sad really, but that is what's important about their younger generation. They have a better chance to break that and can take the steps to realize what the others are too afraid to handle, a form of hope for a legacy of progress."

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Repository ☆ First Year Cait
11 year old Pureblood Human ☆ He/Him

Brinley frowned slightly at Alex’s analysis of Sturt house--the people even weirder than the house itself. It wasn’t exactly a comfort to a boy who prided himself on being above average in everything he set his mind to. He didn’t want to be associated with the weird house. At Hogwarts, being in Ravenclaw had been an honor, its name lending Brinley an air of prestige--similar to Slytherin, without any of the negative connotations. He had hoped Sturt would lend him the same credibility here in Australia. It sounded like he was perhaps not to be so lucky.

When Alex showed that he actually knew what a bostrichidae was, Brinley smiled slightly--a little more on one side than the other--and inclined his head. ”Pretty, and versatile. Did you know that bostrichidae shells have 156 common uses--not mentioning the uncommon or experimental ones?”

As Brinley followed Alex deeper into the grounds of Tallygarunga, he bristled slightly at the mention of Greyheme, though as he was a step or two behind the older boy, he doubted it was noticed. It seemed that not only had his dearest mother chosen to send him to school on the other side of the world, but she hadn’t even bothered to send him to the good school. What hope did he have of ingratiating himself into this society if she wasn’t sending him to the school with the creme de la creme? Merlin only knew that money wasn’t a concern there. It was as if she were doing it on purpose--as if, in trying to humble him, she had decided to butcher any societal dreams and goals he may have had.

It wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be allowed to ruin his future like that.

He was distracted enough about it that he missed the beginning of Alex’s answer about house elves. What he caught of it made something twist in his stomach. He hadn’t though, before, about the fact that freed house elves might have the option of staying employed at their previous place of business. Just because Mother freed Stumpy and Diddy didn’t mean they’d had to leave the manor. They’d chosen that.

They’d chosen to leave him.

Brinley’s left hand tightened, his fingernails digging into his palm. He sucked in a deep breath of air and reminded himself that the hurt he was feeling was a useless emotion, unbefitting a man of his stature. Decorum, Brinley, he reminded himself, and he forced himself to unclench his hand and let out the breath he’d sucked in.

”Do they?” Brinley forced himself to ask. His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat before trying again. ”The younger generation of elves, I mean. Do they try to break the norms?”

Brinley had spent his entire life trying to live up to the legacy his father had left behind. He couldn’t imagine actively working against his family’s traditions.

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Spencer ☆ Sixth Year ☆ Guitarist/Vocalist - Local School Hero!✩ Kaitore
19* year old Halfbreed Sorceraic ☆ HE/HIM

Granted, every house held its 'weirdness', so far he found that the most intriguing of all of them had been Flinder's and their increasing brightness and optimism. Well, at least some of those within that particular house. He hadn't forgotten the way the one called Aiden looked when Lorelei had fallen into a coma, maybe he should check up on him? At any rate his head lightly shook with a small smile still at the forefront of his expression. "It all sounds a bit crazy, I admit, but as things get working in the greased wheel it will all make sense and become second nature." Unless, of course, one fought against the change itself. He had no idea if Brinley was the sort for that but that what being a watchful mentor of sorts was intended to be, wasn't it?

"I honestly only knew of about one-hundred. - The experimental stuff is more up my alley for one reason or another." Ever since the massive changes within his life he had been developing towards the medical field and while it meant a bit more of a push in his studies of potions, alchemy, and ingredients that are complimentary, those that are a waste or worse together. It had been all to the ends of first treating the pain before being able to treat a symptom of his current state of being that he wasn't sure how to even go about towards managing it. "Actually, make a few of my own pain relief stuff. Chronic pains that have a range of intensity. Sometimes its lessens it, other times dulls it. I tend to use the shells for a casing and the bodies various bits for more thickness.

As long as he went about it without the 'Wizards touch' he wouldn't get hit with the backdraft of 'ouch'. 

There seemed to be an odd silence that it was enough to catch Alexander's attention as his oddly cobalt eyes narrowed towards Brinley. What was his story? There seemed to be a heaviness there and it was something that he hadn't been able to fully been able to unhinge. He was certainly pent up, that much he noticed seemed to be a trait of many Sturt's, oddly enough. But so was this heavy ever foreboding pain that often never left their lips unless pushed, angered, or genuine trust had been developed. There was a time and place, time in this case, was necessary for the newly arrived young man to get an idea and comfortability. 

"I imagine, some do. Everyone has a fate that they must walk and sometimes other people and the weight and force of what society presses down obliterates that very fate." There was nothing worse than missing the proper course, that ones fate was altered or changed from the larger design and purpose they could have had. The impact that could have set the world in a productive course, alas, not every fate is 'Light' or 'Good' evil and darkness, these things needed to exist. "Now? They're free to make their choices, set their feet where their heart leads them. They have this ability to now experience a life they'd never know other wise, a chance to -truly- decide. But, you know, some might not do it out of fear or even just because they still know nothing else.

He rubbed the back of his neck as they made their way into the Great Hall and he rubbed the back of his neck as if the very thought of people not being able to grasp outwards in courage was heavy on his shoulders. "That's what kind of makes Tallygarunga an amazing school, choice and chance. Some people here maybe on their last chance, no fault of their own, just. . .The way life lines up sometimes. But one thing I have been able to suss out a bit is that everyone who ends up here, is intended to be here for one reason or another."

They weren't out of their fate, not yet, this was just a proving grounds. 

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Repository ☆ First Year Cait
11 year old Pureblood Human ☆ He/Him

Brinley shrugged when Alex said experimental potions were more interesting to him than common ones. ”Well, sure. They’re certainly more fun. But Potions Master Today says you can never successfully experiment until you fully understand the fundamentals.”  

Brinley grinned when Alex went on to say that he made his own pain relief stuff. ”Wicked! You should put a little belladonna in there. I mean, you have to be careful—that stuff’s lethal in high doses—but medieval witches and wizards used it as a pain reliever and sedative. It was so effective at the latter that some suspect that the potion the Friar used in Romeo and Juliet was a sleeping draught modified with belladonna.”

Talking potions always put Brinley in a slightly better mood, and a small smile graced his features for perhaps the first time all morning. Still, talk of house elves and their choices had a dampening effect. He missed his home, and Diddy and Stumpy especially.

The bit about fate and choice and chance had him baffled, however. Brinley had never considered fate. Choice, certainly—people could choose to behave with dignity, or not—but not fate.

”Do you take Divination, by any chance?” Brinley asked. ”Only you sound a bit like the Divination professor back at Hogwarst… I always thought it was a bit of an... imprecise… magic.”

Imprecise was putting it lightly. Brinley tended to think that those who put their lives in the hands of diviners were absolutely mad. 

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Spencer ☆ Sixth Year ☆ Guitarist/Vocalist - Local School Hero!✩ Kaitore
19* year old Halfbreed Sorceraic ☆ HE/HIM

"Mm, This is true! The basics are always important. Many times when people hit some kind of pinnacle they end up messing up all due to missing the basics." Alex gave a gentle nod towards Brinley, in agreement, before adding on. "But with experimentation, at least in most cases, they rely on the basics. Just in the way of understanding it to its fullest." This wasn't always the case, that much he knew, more than enough potion makers accidentally tossed themselves up in a liquid bomb because of being too cocky to the point of ignorance. 

He rubbed the base of his chin with a growing smile that donned on his face. "Of course! Though I only use a smaller pinch than what most would usually use. The tough bit that most tend to gloss over is the consideration for naturally weaker immune systems. Rare, but a slight consideration that I've had to make." Even more so recently, it was subtle but he could feel the heaviness of his old conditions trying to peek through. At the rate he was going he'd probably end up tapping into one of his people, preferably, the woman whom had been a caretaker for him. "Hmm. . . Belladonna. . .  With a fierce venom - snakes or spiders - that probably could have been a major inspiration. The quick active effect along with the impact of venom on the system definitely would give legitimacy to that claim.

The shift in expression, that was something he didn't expect, yet the irony didn't leave him either. The Sturts he met tended to be interested or some form of connection to potions, they also, tended to have this odd passion for it beyond the need for necessity. For him, his inspiration came for the need and want for survival. 

"I do, but I also have. . . Unique view on it for many reasons." He glanced back towards him with a smile. It wasn't an attempt to be vague but there were many, many reasons on why he was led towards it. It was other than the fact he could somewhat 'see' the strands of fate, albeit, it was always incomplete - Imperfect. "But whether if guided by talent or by innate ability, you're right it is imprecise. I think the idea of it has always been to be able to see your own future and take the steps towards it - never to be defined by it but choosing to define it. If that makes sense?

He scratched the back of his head a bit almost as if he could have confused himself in the word-scuffle. "Some take it too lightly or too seriously, the main important impact to take from it is that there are many paths - choices. Up to the person to see them and grab them, some paths kind of seem the only way at times. But I can tell you more often than not? That isn't the case."

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