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 Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 5:02 am
Dustin Ansley Baker's Journal
arrow Please do not post here. Only chavi, and those chavi chooses, will be allowed to post here.
Born: ?
Gender: Male
Guardian: Will "Cookie" Sheridan (chavi)
House: Unknown
Wand: Unknown
Personality: Unknown
Pets: None
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 9:32 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 9:34 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 9:35 am
Dustin
Name: Dustin Ansley Baker
Age: 11
Sex: Male
Birthdate: -pending-
Familiar: Rosemary; Northern Barn Owl
Likes: -soon-
Dislikes: -soon-
Class Specialty: Unknown
More to Come: yes!
--------
Guardian
Name: Will "Cookie" Sheridan
Age: 20
Sex: Male
Birthdate: -pending-
Marital Status: Married
Credentials: Hogwarts graduate (barely)
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 9:38 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 9:39 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 9:40 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 9:44 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 10:13 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 10:14 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 11:07 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 11:14 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 11:15 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 11:16 am
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Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 11:18 am
Guardian's Name: First, Middle, Last
- Will "Cookie" Sheridan
Guardian Background/Personality: What're you like? Where do you come from? Where do you live? <3
- I'm your typical British gentleman: charming, handsome, and above all, modest. My mother named me William to instill that staid persona her father had possessed, but by the age of eleven I was Will and refused to answer to anything more. I was born into an odd profession, the breeding of fine avian companions-- owls, sporting birds, and few decorative breeds, as well. My father was and continues to be very passionate about his aviary, and I suppose I inherited that, because I never understood why I loved being there so, or why others sometimes balked at my smelling of bird feed and feathers. At eleven, as expected, I was off to Hogwarts, graduating to the surprise of generations of hall monitors that found when I said "studying," it usually entailed something interesting and at least illicit.
I live in a few rooms above a quaint London bakery with Hogwarts' soon-to-be prize pupil (and with my tutelage, how could he be anything but?) and his sister, also known as Mrs. Will Sheridan-- yes, she's all mine, my apologies to the men out there. To truly understand us, well... I'll need to go back. Far, far back, back to when I was an equally debonair young bachelor, fresh out of Hogwarts and eager to finally use all of those fun, naughty spells they'd been so adamant about forbidding us. But before fun, I needed a bite to eat, and to be fair, you can't get a decent pie outside of muggle London.
I was wandering down a back road, my hands in my pockets and my clothing neatly pressed (pie is an occasion for formality if there ever was one), when a door opened in front of me, and the sweetest scent I had ever been gifted to smell wafted out onto the walk: a smell of baked goods and hard work that was unique to a muggle bakery, a place where no labor was taken for granted. I slid into the shop led by my nose and curiosity, finding myself in what may have been a room out of a doll house. Pink and white trim dominated, sprinkled with decorative glass cases filled with pre-prepared goods and bunka pictures that hung from every wall. I bent over to peek into a case, when---
"Can I help you?" chimed an angelic voice from above. I lifted my eyes to look up at the shining face of the girl I would someday marry. Not that I was thinking that at the time. At that moment, I was more concerned with not looking like a complete a**. She was a bright, smiling girl of about twenty, with warm brown eyes and a stout body framed by long, blonde hair and a large dress. She looked like something out of time, with her sweetness and petticoat. "...sir?" she echoed to my staring.
Before I could stutter an excuse I noticed a pair of eyes that peaked out from behind her. Perhaps peeked isn't strong enough a word; it was more like glaring. They would have been pretty like the girl's had they not been set into such a scowl, narrowed and defensive; if their owner had been a cat, they'd have been bristling. For a few minutes we stared at each other, those eyes and I, until the woman moved to reveal her double-- only far younger, and decidedly male. The boy seemed about nine or ten, with the pudginess of youth still clinging to his body, and his face yet to be molded with the sharp lines of a man, framed by the same halo of blonde as his sister, albeit far messier than hers.
"Dustin!" the girl-- or Easter, as the tag on her breast told me (and where I was looking only for that purpose, mind you)-- said in a scolding tone. "Be sweet to our customers! I'm so sorry, sir, how can I help you?" With an awkward cough I told her of my love for pie, and from there things seemed perfect. This bakery had been passed to her from her parents, she told me, and now she and Dustin, her younger brother, ran it to the best of their ability. He acted so rude to most men my age, she told me, "as a brother will when they have a single sister." I may be a man and therefor ignorant, but I knew that when a woman mentioned she was single to an adorable stranger, it was an indirect show of interest. At least, it was in this case.
"You mean to tell me no men have come calling?" I chanced, trying to act my most charming. "They must be afraid you will fatten them up, cooking so well."
"You, sir, get a cookie." And she handed me one, with a sugary smile.
From then on I became "Cookie," a regular at the bakery. Every Friday I stopped in, pretending to be off to a muggle university or something silly like that, and had a slice of freshly baked pie, brought to me by Easter's loving hands. But I noticed a common occurrence each time: that boy, Dustin. He was a hard-worker in the shop, right beside his sister in their toils, and flour often dusted his face and clothing, his hands bathed in it. I never tried to speak with him, too enamored was I with his sister, but after a while I became curious. He went about his work with a focus and fervor I'd only seen in adults. He went into 'his trances,' his sister told me one day when she caught me watching him through the open back room door. Only grudgingly would he take any breaks before his quota was reached, and even then all he would do was sit and watch me as I conversed with Easter, as if ready to spring if I should make the wrong move.
Months went by, and soon I proposed. It was the natural next step, I expect, when you wanted to hold someone forever like I did, and on the eve of my nineteenth birthday I had her officially in my arms. Dustin, the ring-bearer, frowned throughout, watching me as closely as always. When the reception came around, he disappeared from sight. Knowing my friends, I smartly made sure no alcohol could be found-- Easter at this point knew nothing about my secret wizarding life, and I didn't want them to be the ones to tell her. But Dustin's disappearance unnerved me. I was his brother in law now. It was time to stop being detached, and finally bond with him.
I found him in the bakery, working at a furious pace in the dimly lit room. He didn't even look up as I walked in, and ever hid his face; he was on the verge of tears. "Dustin?" I called out to him, moving a little closer. "Why'd you leave? You're missing a great party..." He was silent for a while, before he spoke into the counter, his hands kneading at the dough with a vengeance.
"I didn't want a mother," he said with a soft voice yet unchanged, a little choked with tears. "When my mother died, I didn't want another mother. But my sister... Easter made herself my mother. I didn't want her to." Another pause, his hands going still. "I don't want a new father, either. I don't..." He sobbed quietly before me, turning a shoulder to me in shame. Around us, pots and pans clumsily clanged against each other, measuring cups doing an awkward, jaunty dance in midair. This boy had more than family problems: he was a wizard!
"Dustin.." I was silenced. I hadn't thought that he could feel this way. Protective of his sister, yes, that I could understand. Jealousy, even more. Even blindly hating me without reason seemed possible for a boy his age. But this? Awkwardly, I place my hand on his shoulder. He trembled beneath it. "I don't want replace anyone. I want to be your brother, Dustin. How does that sound?" For minutes we sat there, saying nothing.
From that day on, a strange understanding came up between us. Nothing seemed different on the outside. I'd still wake up every morning to find them baking, where Dustin would watch me with dagger eyes as he worked efficiently as always. And I would kiss my wife good-bye before leaving to work, knowing that those same eyes narrowed in childish disgust. But things would never be the same as before, in our house.
Dustin wanted a brother. And I guess, in a way... I wanted to be that for him, too. And our home was happy like that.
---------------------------------
Student's Name: First, Middle, Last:
- Dustin Ansley Baker
Student Background:
- The circumstances of Dustin's birth were a little obscure, or so Easter says. A definite surprise, he came along nearly ten years after his sister, but was greeted with nothing but love from his parents, a baking couple who firmly believed that "adding a little extra sugar may make the waistline a bit tighter, but makes the treat that much sweeter." And let's be honest, what business owner could turn away from free labor?
And so the first eight years of his life went by reasonably normal. As any child with full access to all varieties of sweets, he grew up with a highly tuned taste for foods, never settling for prepackaged goods or anything that had touched a vending machine. His life consisted of school and work, his time in the kitchen beginning as an obligation, but slowly evolving into a passion. Watching his parents, their work became an art to him, and with his own awkward hands he attempted to recreate what they had done. Forsaking play and socialization he spent long hours in the kitchens after working hours, until his skill became nearly equal to theirs', if a bit sloppy--- and were they ever proud! His most important lessons were learned in the bakery, about protocol, courtesy, and the value of hard work. These were lessons that would stick with him strongly even after the loss of his parents, an event he prefers not to discuss, or even acknowledge.
When Will first entered his life, the bakery had finally turned a profit for the first time since their parents funerals. With her life on track, Easter was happy to let her heart reach out to the quirky man. Dustin, on the other hand, saw him as a threat-- a replacement for his lost father, something that offended and angered him.
His acceptance letter to Hogwarts was the zenith of a series of obscure and confusing events. Now, Easter wasn't the brightest bulb when it came to noticing things. If you were feeling harsh, you'd say she was flat out dense, but kindly, she was more interested in baking things than the pressing matters around her. When her husband came home with feathers in his hair and bird dropping littering his new pants, she didn't bat an eyelash. Nor did she the next week, the week after that, day in and day out...
And a strange calm fell over the bakery when Will was on duty there. Dustin tried to watch him suspiciously, but to no avail. Things would magically become clean, glasses he was sure to have broken magically reappeared as good as new (if not better), and spice racks magically refilled themselves... He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to wash dishes! Easter called Will an " honorary domestic goddess;" Dustin called him a rat.
The night of his eleventh birthday, something remarkable happened in the Sheridan household. The three were sitting at the dinner table, Easter and Will joking and messing each other's plates playfully, and Dustin solemnly picking at his meal, like always, when a noise was heard out on the street. It was pretty late, and by this time few people walked these small streets, especially tonight when the lights were mysteriously out. It was like a small helicopter had descended upon them, wind coming through the open window and setting the tablecloth askew. Simultaneously they all rose, rushing to the window, to see something very peculiar indeed, and definitely not a helicopter.
Owls. What seemed like hundreds of owls covered the roofs and poles around them, littering the street and air like sparrows or pigeons may. Owls of all varieties forced telephone lines into unhealthy smiles, and left bushels of lost feathers in their wake. Easter and Dustin looked on in shock, as Will cleared his throat.
"I know this may look strange," he began, "but---"
But it was too late for that now. A single owl, snowy white and very official looking, glided into the room, circling and perching finally on the back of a chair. Stuffily, it waggled a letter at Dustin until he took it, puffing its chest out regally. He opened it hesitantly, scanning it with wide eyes. A wizard...? As if that wasn't a shock, the postscript startled him as well
'PS. I couldn't pick a single bird, Mr. Sheridan, so I simply sent them all. Enjoy your dinner -A.D'
That night, as the birds preened themselves outside in the lightless street, Will explained the letter, his past, his secrets... He knew Dustin was a wizard. He'd known from his wedding day, after he'd watched the boy make the baking materials dance wildly with his own untamed emotions. And now he could go to Hogwarts, one of the finest Wizarding schools... it was too much for the boy.
He spent the next week almost completely in his room, reading the letter over and over again to himself. Just days ago he'd dreamed of high school, making some real friends who weren't just playmates, maybe even meeting a girl who enjoyed cooking as much as he did and wasn't stupid and gross like other girls, but now he would never be normal, no matter how hard he tried. But by the end of the week, he knew what he had to do.
Early in the morning he tiptoed, barefoot, into his sister and brother-in-law's room, nudging Will awake. When he stared up at him bleary eyed, Dustin told him, very clearly:
"Tell me what I have to do. Tell me what I have to learn... you know, to be a wizard. Like you."
Student Personality:
- As a eleven year old, Dustin is the epitome of any boy making the clumsy and trying passage from childhood to maturity. Suddenly, his desire for independence is stronger than ever, multiplied by his own insecurity about his pudgy body and small stature. He tests boundaries only to an extent-- he believes in subservience to adults, yet he's prone to falling into peer pressure, not sure what true friendship means quite yet. More than anything do friends matter to him. Never really having any 'real friends' and not 'playmates', as he defined them, growing up, he is anxious and unsure of how to go about socializing, but he feels the need to make connections with others at Hogwarts.
While he may look like Easter, he is far from her in spirit. To her sweetness and peacefulness is his stubbornness and childlike anxiety. He is easily embarrassed about his appearance and hobbies, becoming moody and silent when confronted or embarrassed. However, he's generally a sweet boy, very polite and eager to please, if awkward in social situations.
Student's Description:
- Dustin is what one would expect from a baker's son as far as build goes: while not overweight, he's certainly not lean! His love of sweets from birth and age has gifted him a slightly pudgy form, the type that fits snugly behind a counter or beneath an apron. Beneath layers of flour and feathers lies typical British skin tone, a few freckles on his cheeks still left over from childhood and fading fast.
It's easy to see where he fits into his family: he's nearly the splitting image of his sister, his face still girlish and hair seemingly cut from her own, blonde and falling to his ears in jagged but styled pieces. He would be considered a cute, if feminine little boy, if only his eyes weren't so harsh, a blue darkened by constant scowling. Thankfully he skipped the large ear gene in the family, but he was unable to avoid the family nose, which is small but prone to moving constantly with each emotion in ways a nose should never move.
---------------------------------
The child ends up getting left a bit behind in Care of Magical Creatures Class, and wanders a little too close to the Forbidden Forest. He/she thinks they've spotted a flash of silver inside... what do they do?
- "Follow, children follow... I won't stop for stragglers."
With a consensual groan, the unhappy children of Hufflepuff and Slytherin trudged in twin lines behind the hobbling Professor Kettleburn, Hogwarts' veteran Care of Magical Creatures instructor-- with the injuries to prove it. He walked with a limp these days, his metal cane leaving deep impressions in the damp earth of the Hogwarts' grounds. "Today," he'd told them earlier before they'd begun their walk, "is a very special day. Yes, today, we collect samples of sentient moss!" Surprisingly, it was easy for the students to contain their excitement.
Too far back to be heard by their aging professor, Dustin sighed, staring at the mud that covered his shoes. This was quite a long walk for moss, and for a boy who hadn't ever been a fan of physical activities it seemed to drag on forever. Wasn't there some sort of spell to make his weary feet lighter? The incessant yapping of Mary, a Hufflepuff girl who was next to him in the alphabet, wasn't helping. He felt bad about tuning her out, but as always, she was unfazed.
"Do you think if we're really good," drawled a sarcastic voice from the back of the line, "we could do this tomorrow, too?"
He casually glanced backwards at the speaker, though he already knew who she was. Jessry King was a fairly popular girl, from what he'd gathered, a Slytherin and everything their stereotypical reputation could be: sinister, underhanded, and lethally beautiful. In ways a young boy could hardly understand he both hated and loved her, this lovely, hateful creature. Her minions, a gaggle of likely dressed and powdered girls giggled at her remark just loudly enough to avoid punishment. Quickly, Dustin turned away.
"Hey...!"
But not quickly enough. He gulped, eyelashes fluttering in awkward surprise as he looked back again, red over his shoulder. Jessry smiled in smug amusement. She always looked so pleased with herself; Dustin wondered how someone so thin could be so happy.
"Hey, you... blondie. Do you think I'm funny?" He could feel his cheeks heating up as he pretended not to hear and prayed that'd be the end of it. And it almost seemed like it was. As his eyes forced themselves on the back of the child in front of him he heard nothing of Jessry after the initial giggle of her gallery, and he began to relax until suddenly strong hands closed over his mouth. For a moment he struggled, falling backwards until all he could see was black.
----
He woke on the ground, his mouth tasting like nail polish and dirt.
"Boy... hey, boy... god, I didn't think he would faint on us..."
The world slowly came into focus on several pairs of slightly muddied maryjanes, pacing or tapping in wet grass. Dustin groaned, already callused hands now ingrained with soil. What had happened...? The last he remembered he was marching in line with his classmates, until---
"Good, you're awake. Come on, we're going to have an adventure!" With a background of giggling he was hoisted up and spun to face the wicked smile of Jessry. He hated her. He hated that cocky laugh of hers, just like his brother-in-law's, attention grabbing and attention begging. He hated her entourage, the fact that she even had one. He hated how thin she was, how clean and meticulously groomed she was. He hated her useless acrylic nails. Yet his heart seized and his cheeks flushed when she came so close to him. He knew he was going to follow her, and her hated himself most of all for this.
He followed them as they wobbled and picked their way, giggling and prodding, through a dark forest. He hadn't realized they'd strayed so far from the group; he didn't even recognize where they were now. A thick mist seemed to follow them, covering all but for a convenient circle around them that followed them as they moved. Scowling, Dustin only halfheartedly participated. This was hardly an adventure. There was more danger in Kettleburn's class!
That is, until something flashed in front of them. It was just for a brief moment, but it made their entire party pause and breath together. The forest had seemed lifeless before, but suddenly it was alive with unfamiliar sounds and smells. A couple of the girls suggested turning back, but Jessry pushed forwards in the direction she though the flash had gone. Dustin could see that she was nervous despite her brave words; he could feel his own sweaty palms as he walked beside her, paving the way for the shivering sheep.
The fog now swirled around their ankles, the light of Jessry and he's wands paling as it thickened. Why was he even out here? He scolded himself. Out having adventures... who was he, Will? He wasn't a fool! Yet... there was something fun about this. He had never been on any adventures back home, though trying some of his experimental recipes had been daring to say the least. But there was something exciting about being somewhere he shouldn't be, with people he shouldn't be with, and no adults. There was just something...
His thoughts were interrupted by a collective squeal from the peanut gallery, and a tug at the back of his robe.
"Quit it," he growled thoughtlessly, blinking up at the girls.
... all of the girls. They all huddled together in front of him, staring bug-eyed at him and... whatever now stood behind him. Slowly, he turned around, to see their silver flash. It was far larger than any of them, tall and equine, its coat white but tinted silver in the dying light. A... unicorn? It took him a moment to find a name for this creature. It was incandescent, a halo of warmth and light seeming to ripple off of it. Its teeth on his cloak was the only way he could be sure it was real; it looked as if it could fade out of being at any moment. Did unicorns eat humans...? He stiffened.
"...oh!" Suddenly, it dawned on him. The cookies! He couldn't go more than a few hours without nibbling something, so on the inside of his robe he had sewn deep pockets to fill with cookies and snacks. Very sugary snacks. With trembling hands he slides his arm through his sleeve and beneath his robe, fumbling around to reappear with a large sugar cookie. "Th.... there you are.... you."
No one ever spoke of that incident, and when they returned to get their punishment, they casually said they'd just gone for a walk, nothing extraordinary. They spent the next week after class with Kettleburn, labeling the moss they should have gathered. But none of the girls minded much. After all, now they knew who to go to for an in-class snack.
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