I'm Shreve. I'm new.

[disheveledbear]

Hello, everyone! My name is Shreve MacKenzie (or is it McCannon?) and I'm from Edmonton, Alberta. I am currently (1909-10) a freshman at Harvard. I enjoy ratiocination; staying up until one in the morning discussing various interesting things with my roommate, Quentin (who is so interesting in and of himself that I could stand here for hours

Comments

[silent_unc]

*doesn't see the use of big words (or any words, really) himself, but that's no reason not to give a smile and a friendly nod* Hello.

Typist: I'm afraid that Quentin's typist is on hiatus, but I'm sure she'll squee when she gets back. *g*

[disheveledbear]

Shreve returned the stranger's smile and friendly nod, meeting the man's eyes from behind his glasses. "Hello," he repeated, not knowing what else to say. Who are you would have been informative, but not altogether polite. What is this place was another. He figured he could try that gambit. "What is this place, anyway?" he said.

Typist: Yeah, I realised. But when she gets back it will be fun. ^^

[silent_unc]

Mansion.

[disheveledbear]

Well, I figured that much out already, Shreve thought. It did look like one. He had had a cursory look at the place, at least enough of one to come to the conclusion that this was not just some lesser-known edifice on the Harvard campus. The people he had seen passing by had confirmed that-so far he had seen about two people who wouldn't look ridiculous and out of place at Harvard. But Shreve was determined to find out more about this strange place, even from this person who seemed to speak only one word at a time. (Can he say compound words? Shreve wondered.) "What mansion? Whose mansion?"

[dracoslytherin]

"What are you going on about?"

[disheveledbear]

Shreve found himself addressed by a boy younger than himself-had to be a high school student, Shreve thought, for Shreve was only nineteen and a freshman-whose terseness after his (Shreve's) prolixity was jarring. He considered saying all that again, except more slowly and without the word "ratiocination" in there; eventually Shreve decided to reply in kind. "Myself," was all he said.

[dracoslytherin]

"Some would call that arrogance." Draco says pointedly.

Actually, they're almost the same age as Draco will be nineteen in June. (He's been here a while.)

[disheveledbear]

"Some would," Shreve agreed, feeling foolish. That hadn't been his goal at all. He felt decidedly awkward and that he had to make amends for that somehow.
"Tell me about yourself," he said finally-the most friendly thing he could think of at the moment. In his state of confusion, Shreve felt the need to keep talking, and have someone talk to him. The interpersonal connection, he thought, would take his mind off the fact that he didn't know quite where he was.

[thirdinhisclass]

Hello. *smiles a little*

[disheveledbear]

Shreve smiled back and extended his hand. "What's your name?" he said.

[thirdinhisclass]

Melchi shakes the offered hand, the smile broadening a bit. "I'm Melchior Gabor. I'm new here, too."

[disheveledbear]

Melchior's words were music to Shreve's ears. "You are, too?" he said. "Then you must know just as little as I do about this place! Everyone else I've seen keeps saying cryptic things and acting strange. But what have you heard?"