【 devon fondatore 】
—19 september, 2025— @Archer Murray—x
—19 september, 2025— @Archer Murray—x
Devon thought he had picked up all the supplies on his list when he visited Diagon Alley last month.
But now, thinking back on the circumstances of that trip, it made a lot of sense that several things had been forgotten. They didn't seem too important to him, though, especially in light of what happened.
His first week or so at Penwick had gone well. New people, new places to explore, the thrill that came from the fact that he was doing freaking magic. That alone had been enough to carry him through most things. Slowly, though, a few professors had begun to notice that he was missing some fairly key items, and were quite frankly getting tired of loaning him things he ought to have bought before term started. Apparently, “I thought I had one” stopped being charming after the second or third time.
Which was how Devi had found himself politely but firmly directed toward Wyrdlan after class, handed a list of things he “really ought to sort out sooner rather than later,” and told to go with Archer. Did he need supplies too? Or maybe he was already heading there? Professors had weird reasons for pairing people together.
He had met the Modron boy only briefly so far, but briefly had been enough. Archer had the kind of energy that made it seem entirely possible he’d been born already in the middle of a conversation. Bright. Friendly. The sort of person who would probably happily start a conversation with a brick wall if left unsupervised.
The two of them stood outside the Scuffed Satchel, Devi wihth one hand in his robe pocket, the other holding the folded list the professor had given him.
What in god’s name was a satchel fastening?
"You think this place will have all this?" Devon wondered aloud, knowing that Archer probably wouldn't know either. "It's kind of small..."
He let the door swing shut behind them and took a few slow steps in, eyes moving over the packed shelves. Boxes leaned against jars, jars leaned against books, books leaned against baskets of things Devi was a little nervous to identify, given he wasn't sure if the little brass object sitting in the shop's window display was meant to sharpen quills or bite fingers off.
Devi glanced sideways at Archer, glad to not have to navigate the shelves alone. "Anything you need to find here?"
But now, thinking back on the circumstances of that trip, it made a lot of sense that several things had been forgotten. They didn't seem too important to him, though, especially in light of what happened.
His first week or so at Penwick had gone well. New people, new places to explore, the thrill that came from the fact that he was doing freaking magic. That alone had been enough to carry him through most things. Slowly, though, a few professors had begun to notice that he was missing some fairly key items, and were quite frankly getting tired of loaning him things he ought to have bought before term started. Apparently, “I thought I had one” stopped being charming after the second or third time.
Which was how Devi had found himself politely but firmly directed toward Wyrdlan after class, handed a list of things he “really ought to sort out sooner rather than later,” and told to go with Archer. Did he need supplies too? Or maybe he was already heading there? Professors had weird reasons for pairing people together.
He had met the Modron boy only briefly so far, but briefly had been enough. Archer had the kind of energy that made it seem entirely possible he’d been born already in the middle of a conversation. Bright. Friendly. The sort of person who would probably happily start a conversation with a brick wall if left unsupervised.
The two of them stood outside the Scuffed Satchel, Devi wihth one hand in his robe pocket, the other holding the folded list the professor had given him.
- Proper parchment (NOT muggle paper!!!)
- Glass vials for collecting ingredients
- Standard-sized ink pot
- Measuring string
- Satchel fastenings
- Glass vials for collecting ingredients
- Standard-sized ink pot
- Measuring string
- Satchel fastenings
What in god’s name was a satchel fastening?
"You think this place will have all this?" Devon wondered aloud, knowing that Archer probably wouldn't know either. "It's kind of small..."
He let the door swing shut behind them and took a few slow steps in, eyes moving over the packed shelves. Boxes leaned against jars, jars leaned against books, books leaned against baskets of things Devi was a little nervous to identify, given he wasn't sure if the little brass object sitting in the shop's window display was meant to sharpen quills or bite fingers off.
Devi glanced sideways at Archer, glad to not have to navigate the shelves alone. "Anything you need to find here?"
