Bad Luck: Tricks and Traps of Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer

[Appoline Meian]

Normally, she'd just work in the library. It was a quiet place for the most part, and had all sorts of nooks and crannies to hide in. But for some reason, there were no available seats left. As happened in every single other place she looked, including classrooms that were not in use. So, despite not being a student of the dorms, the artist had been forced to complete her homework in the first floor commons of the dorms. Which, while having students pass through regularly, was quiet and she was left unbothered.

Her final assignment was something that she really should have been working on at home; a diary of sorts, that her psychology professor had told the class to keep. Each day, they were supposed to write out something in the book that they didn't talk about with anyone else. Secrets, memories, crushes, whatever. And then they were supposed to take a step back and analyze it, see if there was something they could discern from their writing about their own mental health and write a few paragraphs on that, too. Personally, she thought it was a terrible idea. Who knew who could get a hold on these books? Bad enough there were telepaths and empaths and dreamwalkers wandering around who could slip into your consciousness at any given moment, but to actually leave a written record? It sounded like begging for trouble.

She'd just finished writing down an inner thought process about just such a concept when her cellphone rang. Considering that her phone was for her family only and all of them were in various classes right about now (save her uncle, who she thought was on a recruiting trip until tomorrow), it had to be an emergency.

Though loath to leave her items for even a moment, the small girl glanced around, took the call, and walked away from the table with her books closed and left behind. She should be right back.

[Deleted]

The one part about dormitory life was that there was such a gross lack of privacy, even the twins Temp and Chair had to be wary of what they left out in the open, what rooms they left unlocked, and what belongings of their they left behind in crowded rooms. So far they had determined that nobody in America had any measure of manners and frequently stormed into each other's dorm rooms as if they lived there. Even being on the all-girls floor, they took care to keep their doors shut and locked when they were especially particular about their privacy. 

Though while they expected others to show them their proper respects, they felt no need to return the favor, especially when such a golden opportunity as this presented itself.

The girls, Temp and Chair, had been heading down to go explore the courtyard for something fun to do when, as they rounded out of the stairwell, they saw that pretty little monster pop up and dart away out of sight, leaving behind her belongings. With smirks that mirrored one another, they set forth without a singular word, ignoring any looks they might have gotten from the few other students in the commons.

Temperance sat down at the table like she belonged there and started scanning through the books while Charity leaned her bum against the table and kept a look out, slurping up yet another spoonful of her blueberry yogurt. It didn't even take a minute of scanning through them for them both to know they'd found a gold mine. Temperance plucked up the journal and promptly walked out the front doors with her sister.

[Wren O'Hara]

Wren O’Hara, who was more or less the epitome of an American with no measure of manners, and who regularly stormed into other people’s dorms as though he lived there, returned to the first floor of the residential building after a long day of classes. The campus seemed especially busy today, and all the movement and conversation was starting to wear him out. It was a surprise, then, when he entered the dorm lobby and found it devoid of people for the moment.

He hesitated just inside the door. It was, indeed, very quiet. Nobody was in front of the large flat-screen television. There wasn’t a line for the drink machine. He could sorta-kinda hear himself think, although his thoughts generally weren’t loud enough that the lack of being able to hear him caused him much alarm.

He sighed contentedly.

It was too good to pass up. His homework could wait. He eyed the vending machines thoughtfully and began fumbling around in the pocket of his jeans for his wallet. He pulled a couple of rumpled dollar bills from the billfold and inserted the first into the warmly glowing soda machine. He pressed a button. A bottle of grape soda tumbled out.

The second dollar went into the snack machine before he’d even decided what he was going to eat, and he looked up at the sheer number of choices, feeling slightly overwhelmed. He cradled his grape soda protectively while he thought.

Cajun potato chips. Had those been in there before? He hadn’t been to the downstairs snack machine in a while. Were those new? There were only two bags left. Did that mean they were good? Or did someone on campus simply need a Cajun potato chip intervention?

The thought was certain to occupy him for some time; the seconds ticked merrily by.

[Appoline Meian]

After a short few minutes, Appoline returned inside, not realizing anything was really amiss until she reached the table again. Everything was right where she left it, but it looked like she was missing a noteboook. After a scuffling about and counting of the ones she still had left, dread blossomed in her small frame. Her journal had been stolen. The one she needed for class. For Psychology.

The one that held actual secrets.

Frantically, the shy girl looked about, trying to find anyone else in the room who may have seen what happened. She didn't think that anyone would be so callous as to... as to steal her homework... and yet... no, there were people like that here. A number of them. Many of whom Appoline diligently tried to avoid at every given opportunity, especially recently. Spotting someone she didn't know, though, the Japanese girl hesitated, then hurried over.

"Um... excuse me?" she asked softly, tapping the shoulder of the boy at the vending machine after another moment. "D-did you see... um... was there anyone who... who came by that t-table recently?"

A pale hand gestured to her workstation, neatly stacked with books still, and her petite face flushed in embarrassment. Normally, initiating conversation like this was rare, but... but this was important. "P-please. I've... I've m-misplaced an... an assignment, and it's v-very important."