You're A little Strange

[Orwell Brocken]

Orwell Kitchen Brocken had for the first time in a couple of years left his home community and ventured out into the wizarding world. It had been a necessity really, or well, in his mind it had been a necessity. Orwell had broken his wand, and was in need of a new one. While he'd gotten the previous wand from someone else, this new wand was actually his, and actually new. It wasn't someone else's passed down to him, no, this wand belonged to him. Orwell had been beyond excited about it. He had made an effort for this day and everything, knowing that it had been coming, that he'd be venturing out. He'd broken his wand about two weeks before, and it had taken a week of persuading his parents, to put together what little money they had and get him a new wand, a birthday and christmas present that wasn't something second hand, not that he didn't appreciate it, but something new was nice. He'd spent his time reading, and imagining what the world would be like. It would be the first time in a long time that he'd gone to somewhere other than the inside of his grandfather's house. So, while very excited, Orwell was very much nervous about it all. Orwell had gathered the best t-shirt that he could, and cleaned the jeans that he'd been wearing over the past few weeks. He'd even tried to make his shoes look nice. His parents had said it was pointless, that they wouldn't run into anyone, and it wasn't like they would know anyone. He didn't have to make an effort, but Orwell Kitchen wanted to. He wanted to look nice, he wanted to not stand out. However, he did. With bright pink hair he stood out, and no matter how clean his clothes were to him, they were too big, giving his perfectly healthy build a much smaller appearance. Brock's clothes looked old, they were repaired clearly by hand, and his shoes, despite his growing on frame they had only recently become his size, were in desperate need of being changed. He stood out, even though he'd tried his hardest to not.

The teen had been left to his own devices once they'd arrived in Obsidian Harbour. He'd been given the money, a time to absolutely be done by and then left to go to the store himself. That had been pretty difficult, being in a shop by himself. He had been nervous as anything, had barely said two words to the store person, he had been utterly lost in how the transaction was suppose to go. He'd read about it, and seen it sort of been done, but this was different. There was very little money in his community, everyone did their bit and used what was available to them, only for larger items that a person couldn't get in the community would they ever use money or venture out, so he didn't come into contact with what to most would be a normal simple thing. He'd finally be done with it, and was now the proud owner of his own wand. He waved goodbye to the store person as he left. It was a crispy, cold winter day. Brock was normally not affected by the cold, he had plenty of layers back in the community, he just huddled with others, next to fires and underneath blankets, but since he'd been going to the big town, he hadn't taken a large jumper, others had needed those thicker layers more than he'd had, so he had been left without. The problem was, Obsidian Harbour was much colder than he'd thought it would be, it was suppose to be somewhere warmer than where he lived, but it was damn cold. His old worn trainers didn't keep the warmth in, and his gloves were fingerless and useless. Brock was cold, he was clutching the bag with the wand tightly, and wondering where his parents were. They'd given him a time to meet them, but had been a little generous time wise. He hadn't seen where they'd gone, so it wasn't like he could follow where they'd gone. Of course, this wasn't overly big deal, and he was sure he'd find them when the time was. For now, the boy decided to use this little bit of freedom that he had. Brock was finally out in the world he wouldn't turn down that chance. He glanced around, noticing that there was a bee flying around. Bees, at this time of year? Maybe it was lost? Bees weren't too common in the winter. Orwell decided that he would follow it. He didn't know of anything else that he could do.

Orwell loved animals, he loved all animals, and could never bring himself to understand how any person could hurt one. Orwell was a pacifist, he couldn't understand why any person would hurt another person, or why they'd hurt an animal. He didn't actually have a pet, but Orwell loved animals. He liked caring for creatures, and plants. He loved being able to play with birds, or swimming next to fish, even if he realised they were just swimming away from him. Orwell, walked over to the bee, watching it carefully. He was following it's movements, as it flew forward. Now, all of this boy's attention was focused on the bee in front of him. He was making a little buzzing noise as he followed it. Kitchen crouched as it flew lower, and the teen would've kept going but he was stopped, when he ended up bumping into something, or as it turned out, someone. "Sorry" he said as he looked up, it was a kid his age from what he could see. He then glanced back around, it appeared the bee was gone, he couldn't see it. "Where did you go little bee?" He muttered, before glancing back, "Sorry about bumping into you, you alright? I didn't see you, should've been paying more attention. I don't get out much, so I was distracted" he asked quickly, forgetting about the bee realising this was a kid his age. Brock stood up to full height to face this person, wrapping his arms around him slightly to keep in the warmth from the clothes he had. Chasing the bee had distracted him from that.
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[Archie Renner]

Archie returned home for the winter break with a wide grin on his face and a plan in mind, and that plan was to make up for lost time in the sun by spending every minute of daylight outside. He could hardly wait for freedom to lie on the sandy beaches and surf again in the waves. Because for a few weeks he had an escape from New Zealand's constant chill and his consecutive complaining about said chill, and while winter in Australia was far from warm compared to its blistering summers, it certainly was to a boy that had spent the better part of his year in what felt like Antarctica. It would have been the understatement of the century to say Archie was excited about this. In every way he was ecstatic, and in such an overjoyed state he never envisioned himself leaving Australia during his school break. But it seemed his parents had a different, or rather a completely opposite plan in mind because not a few days into his plans to make the most of the Australian sunshine Archie was dragged back to New Zealand which was wholeheartedly the last place he desired to be. His first instinct was to refuse, protest and even tie himself to a tree so they wouldn't force him to leave. Though he knew any attempt he made to stay would be futile, that his family would never change their minds or even budge on the subject. So Archie metaphorically kicked himself for ever mentioning the cold in his letters as he was forced to bite his tongue while browsing shops in Obsidian harbor for what his parents described as 'Warm clothes'. It seemed pointless because Archie was sure that no matter how many layers of woolen armor he wore, he would still feel the chill when he returned for his second year. But even as he switched from biting his tongue to chewing his lip ring in annoyance his parent's logic made all too much sense. Clothes made in New Zealand were warm enough for New Zealand. At least that was the assumption they made and the one Archie disdainfully followed.

Not being a picky kid, nor one that cared about his appearance meant that he spent no time choosing clothes and quickly brought everything he needed. Half an hour was more than enough time for him to buy a few jackets and thick sweaters which he assumed was enough to suffice when he met up with his family again. It was a job well done and for a moment Archie was happy to walk outside and along the pavement with the bags of clothing in tow. His mouth even curved into a small smile before the realization of how much time he had left to spare hit him square in the face and he paused to let the thought circle in his mind. Two hours. He would have to spend two seemingly endless hours in a place he had only visited once before and didn't expect to visit again until he needed to shop for another year of school supplies. His brow furrowed as the happy mood he once had shifted to one of exasperation. Fretting over a couple of hours seemed an over dramatization in the least, especially for a kid who found joy in discovery and exploring new places. Though Archie had never shown a hint of interest towards exploring the wizarding world of New Zealand outside his school's grounds and didn't even show interest now that he had been granted the opportunity.

After spending a minute planning the next two hours in his head to no avail he eventually gave up and continued walking along the pavement without a destination. Walking, no matter how aimlessly it might have been, seemed to be a better waste of his time than sitting on a bench bored out of his mind. At least this was what Archie convinced himself. He decided that sooner or later he would discover a way to kill time but as the body of another bumped into him it seemed to not be a discovery by his own doing and instead one handed over by fate. "Don't worry, it's fine." Archie said as he shot a glance around his shoulder to make sure none of his newly purchased clothing fell to the ground during the impact. When he noticed his belongings were still safe in their paper bags he shifted his gaze to the person that rudely walked into him, noticing it was a boy that looked around his age that somehow confidently donned bright pink hair. He stifled the urge to comment on the hair and instead chose to take in other parts of the boy's appearance where he noticed the disheveled clothes that looked like they had been mended a hundred times. Archie had never seen clothes so old and worn out, and not only were they worn but they also looked to be terrible at keeping the cold away, definitely the polar opposite to the clothes he had just bought. "Aren't you cold?" He asked out of curiosity and worry that this boy was cold because Archie wouldn't wish such a chill on anyone. Could this kid have been poor? That was the only assumption he could make and the assumption he chose not to ask about. Introducing himself seemed like a more polite alternative, so he plastered a smile on his face and opened his mouth to speak with the utmost confidence "I'm Archie by the way." With his hands clutching his new clothing to his chest he was unable shake the other boy's hand. Not that he was polite nor mature enough to do so. He was ever slightly so frustrated at being walked into but did his best to brush it off when a kid his age was nearby and could be an ample way to spend the two hours he had left.
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[Orwell Brocken]

Orwell would've thought earlier in the day, before leaving his community that the thing he'd protect above everything else would be the newly bought wand, but having seen the bee and followed it a little bit, Brock had found himself more concerned for it after he'd bumped into the other kid than for the wand. The kid he'd bumped into looked from a glance to be about his age. There wasn't anyone in his community who was exactly his age, there weren't that many kids, but they were all either old by a little bit, or younger. It just meant that he had to make do when it came to friends. Not that Kitchen minded that much really. He liked them all, he liked pretty much everyone, they were his family as much as the parents he was biologically related to. There was not a bone in his body really capable of hate. It just didn't work in his view of the work. Hate was what fuelled the bad things that he read about in the fiction novels and the political books. Hatred of other cultures, of the earth, of women, they played a role in the unfairness of society, and it was why Kitchen could not find himself capable of hatred. Not even for those most selfish in society. It was where he found his love of all creatures, and the fact that when in following the bee, he thought first of it, rather than of his new wand, though he didn't even think of the person he'd bumped into, till it was clear that the bee was gone. He gave once last glance around him before glancing at the person he'd bumped into. The first thing he noticed about the boy was that he was around Orwell's age, he had to be. Then it was the bags filled with what were obviously newly purchased items. Then, he actually took in the boy, blonde, taller than Brock, lip piercing, and his clothes the ones that he was wearing, contrasted so much with what Kitchen was wearing. They were nice, to Brock they looked brand new.

Orwell's smile grew slightly when the boy said it was fine. He was glad it was, obviously it had not been his intention to walk into him. He knew he should be more used to crowds and avoiding walking into people considering that he lived in a small but close knit community and this was the large wide world where lots of people lived, yes, but there was a little bit more space than what he had. He was glad that he'd run into someone who was seemingly not bothered by it. Orwell had been told many horror story type tales before leaving by one of the older kids, who had clearly just been telling stories made to scare Orwell. As he was about to introduce himself to the other kid, Brock took a moment and ran a hand through his pink hair. The other boy spoke first, and Brock was surprised by the other boy's question. Brock on instinct gave a half shrug, half nod. He was cold, it was winter, and Brock's jumper was thin, old and worn. He had badly planned ahead, his parents had given him no advice on the matter, and Kitchen wasn't quite sure how to tell this guy that while he was cold it was just due to others being colder than him, and therefore needing the warmer clothes more. It was slightly complex as an issue. "Yeah, I'm cold, my clothes are pretty thin, I thought it would warmer." he wrapped his arms around himself slightly trying to keep in some of the warmth. "I don't really own any clothes, don't own the ones I'm currently wearing, all the clothes are shared with the other people in my community, and they needed the warm clothes more than I did" Kitchen didn't quite know why he was telling this guy all of that, but he felt like he had to tell him. Brock felt like he had to give a little context. He didn't have much experience outside the community, he didn't know what he was suppose to say in certain situation, that didn't have an easy answer.

As the other boy, Archie introduced himself, Orwell smiled happily. "I'm Orwell," Orwell said with mounds of confidence clear in his voice, he was excited to meet someone who wasn't from his community. Someone new and different. "Most people call me Brock, or Kitchen. It's really only my parents and some of the folks I work with who call me Orwell." he told him, wondering if most people just called Archie, Archie. "Is Archie short for something?" he asked smiling at the other kid. "Do you live around here?" he asked, wondering if this boy knew of anything that they could do. "This is my first time outside of my community in years, I want to do something, but I don't know what"
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[Archie Renner]

Archie could not hide the fact he was confused by the Orwell's words, nor could he hide that he was genuinely intrigued by them either. His mind urged him to prod the other boy with questions but he still had no idea how to respond or even react so Archie was left to ignore the questions Orwell had asked him in return and absent mindedly chew his lip ring while the other boy rambled on about what sounded like a life polar opposite to his own. Until now the strawberry blonde boy had never given thought to how other people lived. He had been trapped in an assumption the life he lived with his amazing mum and dad and a pair of caring sisters was the norm, so the word 'community' in Orwell's sentence confused him to an insane degree. The fact Archie was so clueless towards what the other boy had said added to his feeling of intrigue and only made him add to the list of questions in the back of his mind but even with a longer list of questions he had no idea where to begin. Though instead of lingering in the awkward silence he allowed to happen as he attempted to make sense of Orwell's words, Archie ignored his curiosities and attempted to bury them underneath his feelings of sympathy in the meantime. Because if the other boy was feeling the winter chill like he had so politely admitted, Archie believed it was his responsibility to help. "If you're cold, then, here." He said as he dug a hand into one of his bags before pulling out a brand new, dark grey jumper and offering it to Orwell along with a polite smile while continuing to speak in a mock singing tone hoping it would convince the other boy to accept his offer. "It's brand new, still has the store's tag on the collar."

When Orwell took the sweater from his hand, Archie smiled widely and chose to move their conversation forward like normal and the awkward silence from earlier had never existed now that the chill issue was out of the way. "I was planning on getting some ice cream, you should join me!" Without so much as a warning or an opportunity for the other boy to decline, Archie shuffled his paper bags underneath one arm and used the other to link with Orwell's before tugging his new companion down the cobblestone street and towards the ice cream parlor. When the pair reached the brightly colored building with a front door that donned many small paintings of ice cream cones, is when Archie finally freed Orwell from his arm before walking inside. After stepping in the door and hearing the bell above his head ring once, the twelve year old found a table by the front window where he dumped his bags and made a silly face at his new 'friend' from behind the glass. It was his own, weird way of inviting Orwell to join him, because Archie expected the other boy to cater to his wishes without hesitation so he could waste the few hours he had left before he could meet up with his family again. When he heard the bell above the door ring a second time, Archie approached the counter where he ordered a chocolate sundae for himself, and a rainbow looking sundae for Orwell because he assumed anything with a million bright colours was what the other boy would have wanted. With both sundaes in hand, Archie walked over to his companion and gave him the rainbow bowl of ice cream with a proud smile on his face that didn't fade as he sat down at the table next to his paper bags. "It's delicious! Promise!" He exclaimed with a mouth full of ice cream as he turned back towards the person he considered to be his new friend. "Aren't you going to join me?"

i am the walrus goo goo ga joob and i'm sorry this took so long~​

 

[Orwell Brocken]

It was clear that Orwell was pretty cold he neither tried to hide it or lie about it, since it would make no difference. They had a few jackets within the community but those were shared. Orwell had said he wouldn't need one, he hadn't thought he would but oh how wrong he'd been. It was however a little surprising what Archie did next. Orwell had always been told to be kind and helpful to others but sometimes the way his father spoke about the wider world had always made him think that most people outside the community were not. Which was why he was surprised when Archie handed Orwell a jumper. He held it in his hands and looked up at Archie with a humbled and shy expression. Brock couldn't help but find himself at a loss over what to say. "Thank you" Orwell accepted the jumper, he had no problems with doing so. Orwell had always been told that the kindness of people wasn't something to pass up. His father was critical about people but they were not above charity in any sense. This jumper given to him was not something Orwell would have to share, it was his. It meant that this jumper which Archie had just given to him was one of about three things which Orwell actually owned, that belonged to him and no one else. Orwell couldn't help but turn the jumper over and over in his hands. He felt his cheeks flush as he saw the tag. This really was brand new. He didn't know whether or not to take the tag off but without thinking too much more about it Orwell just slipped the jumper on. It was a little large for him Archie was taller than him but he was just incredibly happy to have it. He didn't mind in the slightest.

"How do I look?" he asked grinning at his new friend. In all his distraction with the jumper the boy barely been listening to Archie so had no clue what was happening when Archie linked arms with him and walked him towards a store he didn't really know. Orwell had no choice really than to walk. The words I have no money were on the tip of his tongue, he didn't want to go somewhere and have to tell Archie he couldn't afford anything. He really didn't expect Archie to pay for anything. The boy had already shown Kitchen so much kindness. Brock was freed from Archie as Archie walked into a store. Brock just stood outside staring at the pictures and paintings of the ice cream cones. An ice cream parlour! Oh how long it had been since he'd last eaten ice cream. Brock honestly couldn't remember and was so lost in trying to remember when it had last been and only snapped out of it when Archie made a silly face through the window. Brock responded in kind before heading in, there was no use in standing outside. Oblivious to the small side way glances he was given, Orwell stood out with the pink hair and aside from the new jumper the not so nice clothes. He sat down at the table he'd sworn he'd just seen Archie at. A little confused the teen glanced around the parlour and noticed his new friend was already at the counter. Orwell's chances of turning it down were gone and honestly he was more than a little bit pleased about that. Now that Orwell was here he wanted ice cream.

Settling down at the table, the teen couldn't quite wrap his head around either this boy or what was happening. His life had always been interesting, each new day brought new ideas and new activities but this was entirely different. There was no way that Orwell could've thought this would happen to him today. It made him long for the wider world more. More so than he had ever before. Orwell stared out the window for a few moments before turning back to face Archer as he returned with two ice creams. "Oh wow" he couldn't help but say as he looked at the large rainbow sundae. He loved the colours, he loved the rainbow and he loved all of the colours. He just though it was amazing. He had yet to pick up his spoon and start eating when Archie spoke again. "I haven't had ice cream in forever. I've never seen one this big before either!" Kitchen's voice was laced with excitement and almost an air of nervousness. There was no ice cream in his community. Occasionally they had sorbet but even that was rare. Orwell picked up the spoon, clearly a little nervous. Would he still enjoy the taste? Would it be better? Kitchen took a good spoonful and ate. In a few moments of tasting he felt like flavour had just exploded in his mouth, "Oh my goodness, bro, you gotta try this" he couldn't help but say with a mouthful of ice cream, he pushed the ice cream slightly so that Archie could take some. "Man, I missed ice cream" He didn't really miss it but the taste was so much better than the usual things he ate that it made him miss it. "Do you go to school here in New Zealand?" he asked, figuring the boy probably went to Hogwarts. Since it was the closest school. Orwell suddenly had a pain in his head, it felt like it was in his brain. He frowned and stared at Archie. What on earth was going on? "Dude, why does my brain feel sore?"
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