Countdown to Addergoole Year 9: Character interaction meme!! Ship my chars!

52 33 Days To 52 Weeks

For the 52 days leading up to the 52 weeks of Addergoole: Year 9, I will be posting something Addergoole-related every day.

Okay! I have a randomized list of 21 students, teachers, and Staff from Addergoole.

The students are currently from Cohorts 5 through 9; the staff and teachers are staff and teachers.

If you give me a pair of numbers (or 3 numbers, but no more than 4 numbers) and a situation, I will write at least 100 words of the situation.

For instance:

6 and 12 wake up in bed together. (“Eeep!” “Did you really say eep? Come on, relax. I’m not going to do anything horrrrid to you.”)

2 and 16, genderswapped (She batted her eyes, trying it on for size. Yes, this would work. And if the Professor didn’t like girls… well, somebody would).

Once a character has been used twice, I’ll sub them out for someone new.

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    • Year 5 of the Addergoole School She hadn’t meant anyone to see her. It was late, and she was hungry, and touching food in Dawfyyd’s kitchen made everyone frown at her like she was a small, unattractive mouse. But there she was, creeping through the back halls, using every sneak-way that eight months at Addergoole had taught her, and she almost ran smack dab into the French teacher. “Pardonnez… ah, it’s you. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She set her hands over her stomach. “How could you miss me?” “I was hungry,” the svelte woman admitted. “I get a bit focused, then. Sorry.” “Me, too.” Hard to avoid, with the baby eating all her food. “Well, I know a secret back way into the kitchen…” The Professor’s grin would have been conspiratorial if it weren’t so sharp. But this was food they were talking about; she’d take it. “Lead on?”

    • It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the girl was avoiding people. It was understandable, your first year out from under the collar. There was a certain tendency to jump at shadows, to feel as if everyone wanted to lock you in a box somewhere, to feel naked to the world. But she hadn’t been Kept last year; she’d been doing the whole avoiding-everyone thing for a whole year by the time Carti was jumping at bugs and shying at shadows. And Carti wanted to know why. She arranged a diversion for the girl’s minder, and then arranged to be in the laundry room at the same time as her target. Both girls were Masked; both stayed to their own corner, and both jumped when the door looked like it was going to move. Carti had to speak first. “You start thinking it’s him…” Brenna jumped, and then nodded slowly. “And you’re not sure if that’s good or not?” “Yeah. Exactly.” She didn’t quite dare hug the other girl, but she did smile as warmly as she could.

  1. Numbers brought to you courtesy of, feel free to go with any or all of these: First a triptych of ones involving waking up with someone sneaking on/out of a room… * 16 wakes up to 11 trying to sneak into their room. * 4 wakes up to 10 trying to sneak *out* of their room. * 3 wakes up to 6 trying to sneak in (or out), only to realize it is 10’s room. * 15 gets in an argument with 3 after 5 chooses 1 as a dance partner. * 13 tells 12 a secret * 9 goes to 11 after 1 yells at 9 * 4 and 21 try to pull a prank on 12

    • Morning After – Probably not Canon (end of year 8) She woke up without a headache. That surprised her, but it took a moment to realize why it did so. There had been drinking last night, yes? She remembered the burn of vodka. And then more vodka, yes. The sound of a shoe thumping surreptitiously on the floor made her roll over and open her eyes. “Carti…?” The girl was trying to get dressed and sneak out; Channing wasn’t sure why. Embarrassed? Orders? No, no, yesterday night had been graduation. No more orders. For Carti, or for Abaddon, who was, thankfully, still a warm presence against her back. “Oh! I didn’t mean to wake you, Channing. I…” She flushed, and sat down on the carpet. Which was, Channing noted, not her carpet, nor ‘Bad’s. The pattern was much too earthy. And the back against hers was, she realized, much too hairy to be her lover’s. “Come back to bed, póni.” Agmund Fridmar’s lazy Russian accent rolled over both of them. Channing looked for the vodka.

  2. 11 and 14 (“Um, we didn’t just… I mean, that’s kosher, right?”) 17 and 4 (Poaching pears and/or peaches) 18, 5, 3, 8, 10 (A D&D (or other RPG-type game) gone wrong “…maybe we shouldn’t have completely destroyed the gazebo?”)

    • “Um, we didn’t just… I mean, that’s kosher, right?” The girl squirmed, not making eye contact. “Well, I don’t know about kosher, but I mean, it was their idea.” She gestured angrily across the room, where the two men were more than a bit shocked. Well, let them be. “I didn’t think you were in the habit of letting him get his way.” It could have been snarky. It wasn’t like the situation was normal. “I’m not, normally, but yours seems like he doesn’t have a lot of give to him.” She tried not to give snark in return. She almost succeeded; the other girl winced anyway. “So you… because he…” “I could have stopped you, I guess, or complained, but it seemed like they were going to be children about it unless we did. And, besides.” She smiled now, and was glad to see it returned a little bit. “I liked it. You have nice lips.” “Oh…” She blushed very nicely. “You do, too.”

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