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Felixir · 09-01-2015, 04:21 PM

"Prince, Daxton."

For a moment, he didn't move. Daxton had spent all day psyching himself up for this moment, ever since David Truebridge had told him what to expect. But the trouble down at the boats and then his awe at the finery of the Great Hall and then the curiousness of the ceremony had all blown that clear from his mind, and now the moment had come and he was not ready to go up there. And yet, that was exactly where his feet were taking him. Prince Daxton, coming through.

A quick Sorting. That was all he wanted. And a quiet one. And the Hat could read minds, so it would know to give him those things.

Daxton sat on the stool, squeezing his eyes shut tight the second he caught sight of everyone looking at him, while his heart rate seemed to double and his breathing quickened and he willed the Hat, which was then placed on his head, to make the decision as fast as it could.

'Interesting...'

Daxton gasped, might have yelped if that were his modus operandi, and tried to bat the Hat right off of his head. It was instantly returned, however, and so instead he reached underneath the fabric and covered up his ears.

It had sounded as though someone was right up close to him, mumbling into his ear, and even though he knew it was impossible it was almost as if he could feel its breath tickle his neck. Daxton could still hear it now; covering his ears wasn't working, so he started a low, tuneless hum to drown the noise out. That did the trick.

Seconds past... moments... soon a full minute. He knew that when it yelled, he would hear it, but still there was nothing. So much for a quick Sorting. How come Char got placed quickly and he didn't? What was so special about her?

In his curiosity, and in his drive to understand and know what was happening, Daxton lowered the volume of his humming and lessened the pressure over his ears.

'...-of a Gryffind-...' Daxton clamped his hands down again, resumed the tuneless humming, a little louder than before. Gryffindor, it was saying. He didn't know why, but he also didn't want to uncover his ears for long enough find out. All he knew was that Gryffindor was the house where all the loudest students from the boats had been placed so far, and there was not a chance he was going there. Not. A. Chance. He would walk right out of here and demand to be taken home. And luckily for him, the Hat didn't seem to think that Gryffindor was the right House, either.

More time passed, and still no call from the Hat. Daxton wondered if it had broken or something; if it was still deciding or if it had somehow withered and died while sat on his head, blown away by his complex and unfathomable and impressive (duh) brain, and nobody had noticed. Could a hat die? Was it alive in the first place, or simply animated? Was it sentient? Did it feel pain?

He uncovered his ears for just a second.

'...-iduality... intellige-...

Still going, then. Not dead. Or as dead as a Hat could get. Though if it didn't pick up the pace, Daxton could promise it a slow and merciless end. He grit his teeth, hummed louder still, and waited. He tried not to think about all the people probably still watching him, how much he wished they would all look away.

The worst part of this, actually, was that Daxton really did want to know what the Hat was saying. He wanted to communicate with it, because apparently he didn't need to talk to do that, and it would likely be the easiest conversation he would have for a while. He wanted to know things, all the things. But he couldn't handle it talking right into his ear.

It had been a while since he last checked, so Daxton ceased his humming and uncovered his ears once again, just for a second, just to check...

'...-eal of self-preserv-...

Still going. It was still going? Why on earth did they use this stupid thing that looked so old and took so long to do anything it was probably going senile? Did they ever replace their Sorting Hats? Apparently not. Ridiculous.

Though he did not know it, Daxton's sorting had now passed the five minute mark, making him an official Hatstall, though apparently there was still no decision in sight. The boy psyched himself up again, and uncovered an ear.

'...-ight move things along faster if I had your input-...' Still no, then. And apparently asking Daxton to Sort himself, as if that wasn't what the Hat's sole intention was.

How long had he been up here now? Daxton had no idea, only that it had been a fair while, and he could still feel eyes on him from every direction. He wanted this to be over. Stupid hat. He ought to burn the thing. Rip it apart. Feed it to the Squid. Then nobody could have their precious Sorting Hat which was really nothing more than a waste of fabric and a waste of time. The Hat was unnecessary. Any human could do this job and not take an inordinate amount of time. That was his input.

Once again, he lifted one hand from over his ear, to see if it had come to a decision. If not, he was giving up and declaring the hat broken.

'...-in either Ravenclaw or Slythe-...

Wait. What? Slytherin, it was talking about Slytherin. Daxton suddenly remembered what David Truebridge had said about their Head of House. A Healer. A doctor. I am not going into Slytherin, you stupid freaking hat.

"RAVENCLAW!" And it only took five minutes and fifty-nine seconds. Wow.

One of Daxton's ears was still partially uncovered, so the booming of the hat was too close too loud too much too much too much. But it was done, he was Sorted, he was a Ravenclaw.

Daxton all but sprang up off of the stool and finally opened his eyes as he threw the hat down and far away from him. Finally. Finally. There was a table cheering and clapping (he covered his ears once again), but he still didn't know where to go. Char was over there, and she had been sorted into Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw. And there had been others who had gone to sit at tables where the occupants hadn't cheered for them... so... what did he...?

But a second later he was pointed in that direction, and Daxton hesitated no longer. Ravenclaw. Okay. Ravenclaw. The smart ones. Right. That would work. Ravenclaw.

09-01-2015, 04:21 PM	#7 (permalink)
Felixir Banshee Join Date: Dec 2008 Location: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Posts: 50,307 Hogwarts RPG Name: Abraham Orlando Botros-Giordano Gryffindor Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Ivor Balfour Spurling Stemp Slytherin First Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Alexei Dragomirov Petrov Slytherin Sixth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: TBC Slytherin Hogwarts RPG Name: August Arthur Orpington Ravenclaw Second Year x12 x12	Lovely™ \| Captain Hurted \| Ariana's Bane \| Resident Antagonist \| Unparalleled Delight "Prince, Daxton." For a moment, he didn't move. Daxton had spent all day psyching himself up for this moment, ever since David Truebridge had told him what to expect. But the trouble down at the boats and then his awe at the finery of the Great Hall and then the curiousness of the ceremony had all blown that clear from his mind, and now the moment had come and he was not ready to go up there. And yet, that was exactly where his feet were taking him. Prince Daxton, coming through. A quick Sorting. That was all he wanted. And a quiet one. And the Hat could read minds, so it would know to give him those things. Daxton sat on the stool, squeezing his eyes shut tight the second he caught sight of everyone looking at him, while his heart rate seemed to double and his breathing quickened and he willed the Hat, which was then placed on his head, to make the decision as fast as it could. 'Interesting...' Daxton gasped, might have yelped if that were his modus operandi, and tried to bat the Hat right off of his head. It was instantly returned, however, and so instead he reached underneath the fabric and covered up his ears. It had sounded as though someone was right up close to him, mumbling into his ear, and even though he knew it was impossible it was almost as if he could feel its breath tickle his neck. Daxton could still hear it now; covering his ears wasn't working, so he started a low, tuneless hum to drown the noise out. That did the trick. Seconds past... moments... soon a full minute. He knew that when it yelled, he would hear it, but still there was nothing. So much for a quick Sorting. How come Char got placed quickly and he didn't? What was so special about her? In his curiosity, and in his drive to understand and know what was happening, Daxton lowered the volume of his humming and lessened the pressure over his ears. '...-of a Gryffind-...' Daxton clamped his hands down again, resumed the tuneless humming, a little louder than before. Gryffindor, it was saying. He didn't know why, but he also didn't want to uncover his ears for long enough find out. All he knew was that Gryffindor was the house where all the loudest students from the boats had been placed so far, and there was not a chance he was going there. Not. A. Chance. He would walk right out of here and demand to be taken home. And luckily for him, the Hat didn't seem to think that Gryffindor was the right House, either. More time passed, and still no call from the Hat. Daxton wondered if it had broken or something; if it was still deciding or if it had somehow withered and died while sat on his head, blown away by his complex and unfathomable and impressive (duh) brain, and nobody had noticed. Could a hat die? Was it alive in the first place, or simply animated? Was it sentient? Did it feel pain? He uncovered his ears for just a second. '...-iduality... intellige-... Still going, then. Not dead. Or as dead as a Hat could get. Though if it didn't pick up the pace, Daxton could promise it a slow and merciless end. He grit his teeth, hummed louder still, and waited. He tried not to think about all the people probably still watching him, how much he wished they would all look away. The worst part of this, actually, was that Daxton really did want to know what the Hat was saying. He wanted to communicate with it, because apparently he didn't need to talk to do that, and it would likely be the easiest conversation he would have for a while. He wanted to know things, all the things. But he couldn't handle it talking right into his ear. It had been a while since he last checked, so Daxton ceased his humming and uncovered his ears once again, just for a second, just to check... '...-eal of self-preserv-... Still going. It was still going? Why on earth did they use this stupid thing that looked so old and took so long to do anything it was probably going senile? Did they ever replace their Sorting Hats? Apparently not. Ridiculous. Though he did not know it, Daxton's sorting had now passed the five minute mark, making him an official Hatstall, though apparently there was still no decision in sight. The boy psyched himself up again, and uncovered an ear. '...-ight move things along faster if I had your input-...' Still no, then. And apparently asking Daxton to Sort himself, as if that wasn't what the Hat's sole intention was. How long had he been up here now? Daxton had no idea, only that it had been a fair while, and he could still feel eyes on him from every direction. He wanted this to be over. Stupid hat. He ought to burn the thing. Rip it apart. Feed it to the Squid. Then nobody could have their precious Sorting Hat which was really nothing more than a waste of fabric and a waste of time. The Hat was unnecessary. Any human could do this job and not take an inordinate amount of time. That was his input. Once again, he lifted one hand from over his ear, to see if it had come to a decision. If not, he was giving up and declaring the hat broken. '...-in either Ravenclaw or Slythe-... Wait. What? Slytherin, it was talking about Slytherin. Daxton suddenly remembered what David Truebridge had said about their Head of House. A Healer. A doctor. I am not going into Slytherin, you stupid freaking hat. *"RAVENCLAW!"* And it only took five minutes and fifty-nine seconds. Wow. One of Daxton's ears was still partially uncovered, so the booming of the hat was too close too loud too much too much too much. But it was done, he was Sorted, he was a Ravenclaw. Daxton all but sprang up off of the stool and finally opened his eyes as he threw the hat down and far away from him. Finally. Finally. There was a table cheering and clapping (he covered his ears once again), but he still didn't know where to go. Char was over there, and she had been sorted into Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw. And there had been others who had gone to sit at tables where the occupants hadn't cheered for them... so... what did he...? But a second later he was pointed in that direction, and Daxton hesitated no longer. Ravenclaw. Okay. Ravenclaw. The smart ones. Right. That would work. Ravenclaw. __________________