Out of the Frying Pan - Printable Version
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+--- Thread: Out of the Frying Pan (/showthread.php?tid=17175)
Out of the Frying Pan - Gwyn Conway - June 3, 2025
June 2nd, 1895 — Avalon Glen, Wales
Aside from Mr. Farris, Avalon Glen simply did not have people who weren't either staff at one of the houses or tasked with the keeping of the dragons. Indeed, Gwyn supposed Mr. Farris did not even count—though a magizoologist, he was regularly present officially as a guest of Mr. Yarwood, rather than an employee of the dragon preserve. The witch was not certain who she had expected to be waiting for her outside of the Smoke & Scale, but the tall, gangly, and young redhead was certainly not it. Gwyn expected she had hidden her surprise well (she hadn't), introduced herself (first name only, and not even at its full length), and indicated for Miss Escher to follow her.
(She did, however, resist the urge to point out what a bizarre name Scallion was.)
"You must have been at Hogwarts recently, then?" the dragonkeeper asked brightly as they made their way through the small village. In spite of her title (Junior Researcher? Of what? For whom?), the girl would be bunking with Gwyn in her small room at the kiln. As such, it had seemed obvious to someone (certainly not Howell) that Gwyn be the one to fetch her. "Do you know my brother—Cadogan Glynn?"
She was, genuinely curious; they did not get a lot of new blood in Avalon Glen.
RE: Out of the Frying Pan - Scallion Escher - June 3, 2025
I always say the things I shouldn’t
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
It was frankly disturbing how abruptly her life had changed. A week ago she'd still been at Hogwarts! Hogwarts where she'd spent the last seven years of her life, she almost couldn't remember life before it. Well, that was a lie but it was so starkly different from life at the castle that it seemed further away than it really was. And now suddenly she was here, in Wales... Somewhere. She wasn't good at Geography, she'd just turned up where she'd been told to.
That was another thing, this whole job thing was odd. Maybe it was just her inexperience with proper employment, but she'd thought you generally had to apply to places first to get a job. She also thought most people knew who they were working for? It was all so annoyingly oblique and mysterious. A more romantic girl might find it exciting but she just found it irritating. Her employer could be anyone and they would know it was her but she wouldn't know it was them and that was totally unfair. It paid well though and she hadn't expected to get such a well paying job so effortlessly or so soon.
Scal had waited dutifully outside the pub, carpet bag in hand, feeling like an idiot waiting for a stranger she wasn't likely to recognize to show up. Finally she was approached by a rather short woman. Well, maybe not woman woman, Scal thought, she couldn't be that much older than her. Then again, maybe it was just her height that was misleading her and she was actually 40.
So she followed 'Gwyn' through the village, too distracted by taking the strange surroundings in to talk at first. When she was asked about Hogwarts, her brow furrowed. Surely this woman should know she was fresh out of Hogwarts, wasn't this some sort of graduate post or something? Oh, not really. I know of him. He's quiet. That was about all she knew about the Ravenclaw boy. I left Hogwarts last week. She could've let the question go and waited for Gwyn to ask again but she was curious to see if this revelation would be a surprise or not. Wait, your name is Gwyn Glynn? She didn't remember hearing that name around Hogwarts and she'd know if she had, she always remembered an unfortunate name because it made her feel better about her own.
Outfit | Tag: Gwyn Conway | Notes:
RE: Out of the Frying Pan - Gwyn Conway - July 3, 2025
"Oh, no," Gwyn laughed, waving a hand at the idea. "Merlin, what a nightmare that would have been—though keep an eye out for Howell, as that's his given name and his surname. No, Cadogan's my brother well enough, but I'm, ah, I'm a bit of a foundling."
Gwyn shrugged. Her parentage—or lack thereof—was not at all a secret in the Glen, and the young dragonkeeper had never wanted for family.
Gwyn shrugged. Her parentage—or lack thereof—was not at all a secret in the Glen, and the young dragonkeeper had never wanted for family.
RE: Out of the Frying Pan - Scallion Escher - July 9, 2025
I always say the things I shouldn’t
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
So if she wasn't called Gwyn Glynn... What was she called? That there was someone called either just Howell or Howell Howell - she suspected Gwyn had meant the latter - made her wonder if maybe she'd been chosen for her first name because whoever was running things had a weird sense of humor. If she was butt of someone's joke she supposed she could tolerate for the sake of the paycheck.
A foundling? Maybe someone really was collecting social rejects with odd names and questionable parentage. She didn't sign up for it but she supposed it would make fitting in easier. At least she knew the identity of one of her parents though. You don't know anything about either of your parents? She supposed she could easily have ended up a foundling herself if her mother hadn't... Well, loved her or something. Were you just left somewhere?
Outfit | Tag: Gwyn Conway | Notes:
RE: Out of the Frying Pan - Gwyn Conway - July 22, 2025
Her words were not sharp, but not soft either—blunt edges as she addressed the redhead.
"My parents are the Glynns of Fairtree Farm." It was once a proclamation and a reminder, as well as a line in the sand. Gwyn might be more open here than in the wide world about her background, but the Glynns were her family and had worked hard to earn the title.
A beat, and then she allowed, "I was left, though. Not sure by whom, but whoever it is, I hope they're off haviong grand adventures." It was what Gwyn would want for herself, and she must've come by it somewhere, for it certainly didn't come from the Glynns' rearing.
Sometimes, in her teenaged years, she had wonderd if Mr. Yarwood—the interesting one, not the rake or the bore—was her father. By now, though, she'd decided it didn't much matter: it's not as though he was going to suddenly buy her a castle and a hundred servants, even if he was.
"My parents are the Glynns of Fairtree Farm." It was once a proclamation and a reminder, as well as a line in the sand. Gwyn might be more open here than in the wide world about her background, but the Glynns were her family and had worked hard to earn the title.
A beat, and then she allowed, "I was left, though. Not sure by whom, but whoever it is, I hope they're off haviong grand adventures." It was what Gwyn would want for herself, and she must've come by it somewhere, for it certainly didn't come from the Glynns' rearing.
Sometimes, in her teenaged years, she had wonderd if Mr. Yarwood—the interesting one, not the rake or the bore—was her father. By now, though, she'd decided it didn't much matter: it's not as though he was going to suddenly buy her a castle and a hundred servants, even if he was.
RE: Out of the Frying Pan - Scallion Escher - July 27, 2025
I always say the things I shouldn’t
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
So whose name do you have? Scal had noticed the firmness in Gwyn's voice but wasn't fazed by it. It occurred to her that she could try to forge a friendship by offering up the fact that she didn't know her father, but that wasn't something she usually volunteered, especially not to strangers. It wasn't like they were the same anyway, foundlings weren't necessarily illegitimate and there seemed to be some benefit of the doubt offered to them that the likes of Scal wouldn't receive. Thankfully her mother had managed to carve out some anonymity for her and Kermit's sake, aided by the fact that no one really cared who she was or had been. It would be stupid to say something anyway, just because this girl had been abandoned at birth didn't mean she considered herself on par with illegitimate children, she may well go tell a higher up person and get her sacked.
Technically she could just say that she'd never met her father and imply that he was dead but then it made no sense that she should have the same name as her mother and brother if everything was above board. Best to keep her mouth shut.
Outfit | Tag: Gwyn Conway | Notes:
RE: Out of the Frying Pan - Gwyn Conway - August 31, 2025
She shrugged.
"My parents named me, such as they typically do," the witch answered easily. "I never much cared how they devised it. I did name my dragon Connie after myself, though," Gwyn added brightly, "so I shouldn't be surprised if there isn't a Conway somewhere in the Glynn family tree."
"My parents named me, such as they typically do," the witch answered easily. "I never much cared how they devised it. I did name my dragon Connie after myself, though," Gwyn added brightly, "so I shouldn't be surprised if there isn't a Conway somewhere in the Glynn family tree."
RE: Out of the Frying Pan - Scallion Escher - October 16, 2025
I always say the things I shouldn’t
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
Oh what a shame my tongue’s not tied
Scal pulled a face. She doubted she was descended from anyone called Scallion, that was surely all her mother's doing. Then her face fell into an expression of confusion and doubt. Had she just heard that right?
You have a dragon?! Surely she didn't have a real whole-ass dragon as a pet? She knew there couldn't be any way Gwyn had some mystically tame domesticated dragon she took for walks on a chain but that's what her brain was trying to sell to her. Maybe they did secretly domesticate dragons here though? Maybe that was the research, how to tame dragons? That would make sense why she'd been offered a place, animals seemed to inherently trust her for no obvious reason, particularly magical ones. Maybe she smelled good to them? She'd never been able to figure it out. Could she have her own dragon too one day?
Outfit | Tag: Gwyn Conway | Notes: