Tormaigh's Dorm

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

(OOC: Open thread, of course)

Torm bustles into his new room, slamming the door all the way open to accomodate his load. He is laden with all manner of bags and what appeared to be pieces of furniture, and his trench coat's myriad internal pockets bulged with stuff, making him look more like a striding pile of flotsam than a human being.

"Well, it's small, but there's nothing I can do about it," Torm says aloud to no one in particular. His slight brogue adds a bit of color to his gravelly baritone voice. With a sigh he deposits most of his burden in one corner and walks to the window. There's a nice view of a wing of the academy, and the city beyond is framed against the sky. At least I can always escape to my workshop in the city...I always dreamed of having one like that, but Mom and Dad...I wonder how the folks are doing?

His gaze falls on the bed in the room. It's extremely low to the floor and cheaply made. Suddenly more animated, he exclaims "We can't have that, it's much too small!" and promptly grasps the bed and hurls it into the hall. Following it out, Torm hauls in from the hall what appears to be the parts to a large four-poster bed and a mattress, all perched on what appears to be an rakishly-carved ladder lying flat and rolling on wheels. Might as well feel at home. It's too cramped though... he thinks, and sets about unloading the cart/ladder.

Pulling the unladen ladder upright, he taps a rhythmic pattern on the metal frame. A soft whirr and click come from within it, and the wheels at its ends snap inward, now fluch with the frame itself. He takes a moment to lean it agains the wall gently. It is, after all, one of his favorite inventions; both a weapon and a tool that have saved his life and made him money in the past. He then assembles the bed, which takes up most of one wall, and produces the sheets and blanket from one of the bags.

After finishing making the bed,, he sits heavily on its edge and rolls up one sleeve. The heavy arm-weights wrapped around it were chafing. Maybe it hadn't been the right time to to move up another 15 pounds. He stares at them for a moment, then shoves the sleeve back down over them, as if to shove away the discomfort itself. There's no time for discomfort now. I'll have to start classes soon, and there's still lots to do. He stands and eyes the large pile of bags and furniture parts in the corner. "And now the desk," he mumbles, and sets to work.

["The Priest"]

God Damned Neighbors...[/u]

*THUD* DAMMIT! *THUD CRASH BANG* CRAP!

The Priest awoke to slammings, his own head crafting the expletives that were amongst the bangings. Standing up, and putting on his jacket, he walks out into the hall to see a standard bed come flying out of one of his neighbors rooms.

Shit....

Walking slowly down the hall, he hears clothing ruffling, probably the folding of clothing atop itself, and The Priest knocked on the molding of the doorframe.

Jesus... need any help?

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

Crouched beneath a mostly assembled wooden desk trying to screw some boards together, the voice at the door startles Torm, and he smashes his head against the desk's underside. "Arrrgh, shit!......One second..." He extricates himself from beneath the desk and brings himself to his feet, his hand on the back of his head probing for damage. "Nah I've got it pretty well handled." He takes a moment to appraise the fellow. Dark robes, long hair, a little forbidding, but he seems nice enough...offered to help, anyway. Suddenly remembering his manners, Torm gestures and says "Pardon my rudeness and come on in though, have a seat, I'm just unpacking now." He darts across the room and grabs a couple folding chairs and sets them up on either side of the desk.

Stopping for a moment, he peers out the door at the ruined bed. He hadn't considered the noise he'd made until now, and winced internally. "Ahh, I didn't...disturb you, did I?"

["The Priest"]

The Priest coughed harshly after the man started talking, and then poured some sort of droplet into his eye. He clenched them tightly, then opened, a little less bloodshot now.

I can stand...

I was sleeping... but its already late. I should've woken up... damn kids here... You never know whats going on with them...

The man yawned, and then lifted a giant wooden thing for the man, placing it in the corner. It looked like a dresser, but knowing this guy, it was probably some sort of explosive...

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

"That's a good place for that, thank you! Careful though, that's mostly explosives in there." He begins to empty his coat's bulging internal pockets onto the desk and into its drawers. From the pockets came some tool sets, pens, pads, tiny contraptions of indeterminate function, a peach, the scattered elements of a mess kit, razor and toothbrush, and enough bits of metal, gears, cogs, and springs to build a second Big Ben, it seemed.

Looking the fellow over again, he realizes that this is one of the first people near his own age he'd seen that day. "Yeah, they are mostly kids, aren't they? It's fairly annoying that pretty much everyone is younger, even some staff, but appearances can be deceiving, I guess..." Standing straight, he peers around at the room. This place is coming together

"Thanks for your help, by the way, it's most appreciated The name's Tormaigh, but Torm works, if you prefer." He tugs off a gauntlet and extends a hand.

[Lienn~]

Wandering about the dormitory floors was none other than Lienn herself. True, her room was down the next hallway, but she thought she'd explore for a bit. Some banging and busy conversation caught her attention though, and it seemed to be coming from an open doorway. Drawing level with it, she peered in curiously. It appeared as if someone was moving in, as the walls were blank and all of the room's possesions appeared to be piled upon what she guessed was a person. Then she heard it speak.

"Moving in, Torm?"

She asked, leaning on the doorframe and crossing her arms casually. It was then that she let her gaze wander about, falling on the other occupant, and she smiled warmly, her pale gray eyes glinting from the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Well, hello there."

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

Brigtening noticeably, Torm gestures invitingly. "Lienn! Thanks for stopping by! Pull up a chair!" Quickly remembering his other visitor, he begins "Oh, and this is..." but trails off seeing her gaze. "Ahh, so you've met, that's good. Actually, he and I haven't been properly introduced, so it's just as well."

Torm drops himself into the seat behind the desk, doing his best to jam the objects littering its surface into its copious drawers. "Forgive my rudeness. I'm Tormaigh, neighbor, but Torm works just fine. It's swell meeting you." Pausing his labors and smiling, he extends a hand to the standing gentleman in the dark robes.

[Lienn~]

The blonde girl grinned at his enthusiasm to see her. She cast a cursory glance about the room for an empty chair, and noticed that he had to clean one off for himself to sit.

"Oh, naw, I'm fine here."

Which was actually quite true, resting her shoulder against the doorframe, she cast her gaze at the two gentlemen. The Priest seemed a little edgy, or grumpy, or something..she could almost see the thundery cloud over his head compared to the jovial Torm. She wasn't about to inquire, though, in case she was mistaken.

"So what are you boys up to today? I'm sure unpacking wasn't the only thing on your agenda.."

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

Apparently, my chairs are sub-par...I'll have to replace them. Suddenly a little more serious, Torm replies. "Well, that's what I was doing, really, but I was careless and noisy. I woke him up, it seems..." Again turning to the stoic fellow, he speaks. "Really, I am sorry about being a bother. I'll try to keep it down in the future." Torm, you fool..., he thought to himself, when you get carried away, this is what happens. You make problems for everyone and solve none of your own...

["The Priest"]

The Priest shook his hand, a smile creeping into his facade. But it quickly went away, as a man of the cloth shouldn't have to display emotions...

The people around here call me The Priest, or Priest, but hell, call me what you want, as I'm not a Priest. Infact, I'm a necromancer, dealing with the ressurection of the dead for personal uses.

Blushing slightly as Lienn entered, he cleared his throat...

Actually... uhh.... yeah.... uhh I was just, leaving... umm... yeah..

He makes his way towards the door...

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

Musing, Torm thinks A necromancer...the title 'Priest' is almost ironic, but not quite so. After all, is it not the job of any priest to understand life, death, and the way between?

As the priest starts to excuse himself, he actually seems to stutter, causing Torm to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. First Lienn's gaze and now his shyness...hmm... Torm smiles slyly to himself, then grins broadly and bursts out amiably, "Nonsense, Priest! I'm sure I've got something to drink around here somewhere, unless you really must go." He rummages about a bit, then looks down at his feet. "No, no, no, not cool!" he exclaims as he spots one of his beetles writing the words he had just spoken across the floor. Snatching the bug, he pulls out a rag and quickly wipes up the scarab's scribblings. "Sorry about that...ahh, thar we go." Pulling a long, flattish box from by the wall, he fishes about inside it and pulls out a few miraculously undamaged and clean-looking glasses. "I don't have much on hand, but would either of you like anything?"

[Lienn~]

When the Priest had said he was leaving, Lienn glanced at the floor, then back up at him..

"Um, if you have to.."

She mumbled before Torm interjected with 'Nonsense!' What a character he was, bustling about his room looking for glasses. She thought for a moment as he asked them if they wanted anything.

"What do you have?"

She asked politely, with a slight smile.

[Austin/Aisling]

Just then two sprightly youths came through the open door. One was a sandy haired boy, his blue eyes bright with interest, the other a brown haired girl wearing a bit more wary of an expression. The boy, the more assertive of the two, was already talking.

"Hey, we were just exploring a bit, and your door was open so we thought we'd..Whoa, what are these?!"

He exclaimed, referring to the desk were some of Torm's bugs lay on the wooden surface. He poked them experimentally, but they remained motionless, some of them were even on their backs.

Stop it, they look like works in progress..you're going to break something!

I'm not going to break something, Ais, chill out.

"Hi, I'm Aisling, and this.." She said, elbowing her brother in the side, "is Austin. Forgive him of his rudeness.."

The brown haired girl rolled her eyes, and Austin stopped poking the bugs and took a step away from the desk, though he was still watching them as if waiting for them to jump up and start dancing the tango or something.

[Tormaigh MacRagallach]

"Well, let's see what we've got here, Lienn." Torm says, heaving a cylindrical container from by the bed onto a side of the desk. With a twist, the top comes off, and a hiss escapes from the container, followed by a small excess of cold mist; the container was clearly cold inside. He peers into the container, a hand hilding his hat on his head. "well, I'm running a little low on selection, but I've got some universal soda, anyway. It'll taste like what you want it to taste like...a friend of mine in the city makes it. Ive also got some Chateau Romani from home. It basically tastes like cream, sugar, and honey, but there's some brandy in it; gives it a little kick, you know? Can't tell you the whole recipe, of course, or my sister would... Torm is interrupted by the appearance of...more visitors!

And this time, it's kids! This room seemed small to begin with... The boy, a sandy-haired fellow, scarcely introduces himself before rushing in and starts fiddling with the stuff littering the desk, but the girl seems to reign him in and conducts a proper introduction. Torm couldn't help but crack a smile. What an odd pair...one so forward, the other so proper... Torm had always liked kids; (ooc: meant in the cleanest possible way ) you never knew what they would do next. The bright ones anyway. His speech slipping into his brogue subconsciously, Torm grins and says, "Ach, do no worry aboot it. There's nothing breakable there tha' I don't know hoo ta fix."

Beaming amiably, Torm kneels to eye level with the pair - he must've seemed towering before - and says "Welcome abord, Miss Aisling, Master Austin! M'name's Tormaigh MacRagallach." Torm chuckles, figuring that they must be trying to work the process of pronouncing the name out, and so continues, "Torm, for short. Make yourselves at home." He extends a hand for each to shake, one arm crossing above the other.

["The Priest"]

The Brandy, if you would...

Great... kids... Just what he needed. Stressed enough as it was, The Priest tried to be amicable around everyone. However, kids, were his breaking point.

He moved over to one of the chairs that wasn't tossed from the room, and sat.

You two have telepathy, don't you? Easy to tell. Your twins, with Magical ability...