Hob is skipping along the sidewalk when he spies the new student and his family. Or rather, when he spies the sister. Seeing their loss and confusion, he makes a beeline for the group, his skunk's tail swishing in the air behind him.
"Greet the unseen with a cheer," he proclaims to them, then switches poets to address the Sluagh directly. "Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! / Bird thou never wert, /That from heaven, or near it, / Pourest thy full heart / In profuse strains of umpremeditated art."
With an innocent smile he bows his head slightly towards the sister. "For she was beautiful - her beauty made / The bright world dim, and everything beside / Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade."
With barely a pause, his gaze returns back to the parental figures and the sluagh. "'O where are you going?' said reader to rider."
Bianca stares at Hob, mouth slightly open. "Um, okay," she says. "Thank you?"
Tevye smirks at his sister. "Close your mouth, Bianca. Or, if it must remain open, please introduce me to this gentleman."
"Why don't you ever introduce yourself?" Bianca asks.
"It's not proper, that's why. Please?"
Bianca gestures toward Tevye. "This is my brother, William Morris." She gestures back to Hob, but shrugs as she does not know his name.
Tevye extends his hand to shake. He whispers, low enough to remain unheard by his family. "Since she cannot introduce me properly, I shall do so. Tevye Tsarovitch."
Tev's father shifts his grip on the many items of luggage he holds. "Friends later, moving now," he says. "Can you direct us to Blackwillow Hall, young man?"
With a flourish, the skunk-pooka reaches into his tattered peacoat and produces a dog-eared card. Slightly lifting his faded blue fiddler's cap in greeting, he presents the card to the Sluagh: HOB MOPPLENAIL. Close at hand, the lad is handsome enough, but he looks like a shipwrecked sailor in his threadbare and patched coat and cap
( ... )
((OOC: Thank gods I have my wife to translate poetry. Not my language!))
Bianca leaned closer to Tevye. "What's he saying?" she asked in a piercing whisper.
Tevye shrugged ever so slightly. "It's not English, and it's not Russian, so I don't know" he told her. "I believe he likes you." He walks a little faster to walk beside Hob. "I apologize for not introducing my sister sooner. This," he sweeps an arm back towards her, "is Bianca."
Bianca raises a hand high enough to wave, then drops it again.
"Forgive her moment of taciturnity," Tev whispers. "She is only used to my own eccentricities, not those of others of our kind." He raises his voice a bit higher. "Oh, and these are my parents, Simon and Julia."
Tev's parents smile wordlessly.
"We hail from New Hampshire. I've come to study what the government demands, though I hope to learn a little more of my own obsessions." Tev lets further words remain unspoken, unaccustomed to conversations as long as he has just conducted.
"Farewell to Nova Scotia," Hob chimes happily, and indeed there is a slight lilt to his voice. Leaning in close, he adds, "In America sex is an obsession, in other parts of the world it is a fact." He nods sagely, then straightens as they approach the severe walls of Blackwillow.
The junior cocks his head to look at Tevye as they start up the stairs. "Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as... as a fiddler on the roof." It seems to be a question of some sort.
"If you'll forgive me saying so," Tevye says, "I find your speech befuddling. Interesting, but befuddling. Forgive me if I don't completely comprehend at this time."
Tev finds it difficult to lug his suitcase up the stairs, being unable to use the wheels. He purses his lips and yanks it up each step with a hard jerk.
Willy a young troll, who has blonde hair and blue eyes is outside of Blackwillow. He is stripped to the waist and twirling a very large maul about, in weapons pratice. He blinks as he sees Hob and the new Sluagh. He puts the maul on his shoulder and trots over twords them. "Hello Hob, who is your friend?"
Hob smiles at the troll approaches. He sets one bag down to make the intorductions.
His free hand motions towards Willy as he quotes, "Bless the squire and his relations." Swinging his palm the other way to indicate Teyve, he says, ""A fiddler on the roof, sounds crazy. But here, in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof."
Hefting the luggage once more, he jerks his chin to point out the family behind him. "He offered his grateful thanks to Providence that his family was not unworthy of him." Hob winks at Willy and in a lower voice comments, "How sweet and fair she seems to be."
Willy chuckles and nods. He looks between Hob and Teyve. "Would eather of you need help carrying bags?" He turns and smiles with a nod to the family and bows slightly to the sister. "Ah tis true good Hob, but none can hold a light in mine eyes but the Fair Bonnie Bunnie Bonnie." He chuckles and waits to see if they need any help. The maul is held over his shoulder with casual ease.
Tevye offers a thin hand to the troll to shake. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir," he whispers. "I am named William by my parents." His voice drops, if possible, even lower. "But all here may call me Tevye."
Willy grins and nods. "You can call me Willy. You need a hand with those bags?" He gives a motion, with his head, to the bags that Tevye was having problems with. He stands comfortably, even if the weather is a bit cold to be out without a shirt on, the maul bounces on his shoulder.
Willy smiles slightly at the Sluagh. "You are most welcome, but there is no dishonor in accepting help, and most likely your room shall be on the second or third floor. I beg you to reconsider your answer." He seems for a likeable enough young man to be living in these dorms.
Tevye cannot keep up his charade, and lets the suitcase thud on the step. He struggles for breath. After several seconds of gasping, he resorts to an inhaler, which hisses with each puff. Deeper breaths follow, and Tevye nods. "Very well, sir," he says. "I will accept aid when I need it."
Willy smiles gently. "The pleasure is mine to lend thee aid." He keeps the maul to bounce on his shoulder as he takes the others bag in hand. "Shall we?" He makes sure to incompus all the people presant in his statement.
"Greet the unseen with a cheer," he proclaims to them, then switches poets to address the Sluagh directly. "Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! / Bird thou never wert, /That from heaven, or near it, / Pourest thy full heart / In profuse strains of umpremeditated art."
With an innocent smile he bows his head slightly towards the sister. "For she was beautiful - her beauty made / The bright world dim, and everything beside / Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade."
With barely a pause, his gaze returns back to the parental figures and the sluagh. "'O where are you going?' said reader to rider."
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Tevye smirks at his sister. "Close your mouth, Bianca. Or, if it must remain open, please introduce me to this gentleman."
"Why don't you ever introduce yourself?" Bianca asks.
"It's not proper, that's why. Please?"
Bianca gestures toward Tevye. "This is my brother, William Morris." She gestures back to Hob, but shrugs as she does not know his name.
Tevye extends his hand to shake. He whispers, low enough to remain unheard by his family. "Since she cannot introduce me properly, I shall do so. Tevye Tsarovitch."
Tev's father shifts his grip on the many items of luggage he holds. "Friends later, moving now," he says. "Can you direct us to Blackwillow Hall, young man?"
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Bianca leaned closer to Tevye. "What's he saying?" she asked in a piercing whisper.
Tevye shrugged ever so slightly. "It's not English, and it's not Russian, so I don't know" he told her. "I believe he likes you." He walks a little faster to walk beside Hob. "I apologize for not introducing my sister sooner. This," he sweeps an arm back towards her, "is Bianca."
Bianca raises a hand high enough to wave, then drops it again.
"Forgive her moment of taciturnity," Tev whispers. "She is only used to my own eccentricities, not those of others of our kind." He raises his voice a bit higher. "Oh, and these are my parents, Simon and Julia."
Tev's parents smile wordlessly.
"We hail from New Hampshire. I've come to study what the government demands, though I hope to learn a little more of my own obsessions." Tev lets further words remain unspoken, unaccustomed to conversations as long as he has just conducted.
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The junior cocks his head to look at Tevye as they start up the stairs. "Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as... as a fiddler on the roof." It seems to be a question of some sort.
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Tev finds it difficult to lug his suitcase up the stairs, being unable to use the wheels. He purses his lips and yanks it up each step with a hard jerk.
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His free hand motions towards Willy as he quotes, "Bless the squire and his relations." Swinging his palm the other way to indicate Teyve, he says, ""A fiddler on the roof, sounds crazy. But here, in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof."
Hefting the luggage once more, he jerks his chin to point out the family behind him. "He offered his grateful thanks to Providence that his family was not unworthy of him." Hob winks at Willy and in a lower voice comments, "How sweet and fair she seems to be."
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