hermione granger (mostclever) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-02-18 12:59:00 |
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Despite not having a job or even school work, Hermione had been busying herself since her arrival to Naboo. Naturally, as soon as her original two weeks had lapsed, Hermione took the necessary steps to be able to leave the planet though she hadn't truly considered actually going. Not when there was so much to understand here. She chose to keep herself busy rather than let her mind runaway and lose itself in worry and waiting. Harry and Ron were back home, presumably without her, and how was she ever going to get her career going if she was delayed from completing 7th year again? Those sorts of thoughts were too all-encompassing and the handful of times she allowed herself down that path, Hermione had ended up in tears over it. So she kept busy. If anyone were to step into her home on Naboo, they would wonder how anyone could possibly live in it - scraps of paper littered just about every surface. Most of her credits had gone into various books and holovids, which were also scattered around. Hermione's practical scrawl covered dozens of scraps of paper where she detailed out various things, jotted lists, and made reminders to herself on the many eccentricities of this new galaxy. She gladly welcomed the droids the Naboo gave her and they sat, largely unused, in her home as well. The astromech put itself in low-power mode when it was obvious Hermione had little need for it, and Hermione frequently considered selling the protocol droid because he stressed her out immensely. The two had heated - well, as heated as anything could be with a droid who didn't have true emotions - discussions over languages and various etiquette scenarios.
She was on her own today, books tucked under one arm with her wand in one hand and her Holoreader in the other. Hermione had been glued to the technology since she arrived - the idea of knowledge instantaneously at her fingertips was radical and amazing and she'd been absorbed in it perpetually. She knew she should be more social, but Hermione had never been a very social creature, not when there was so much information to collect and process. Even now, as she walked, her nose was buried in the various posts. Her intrigue mostly centered around the people like herself, the ones pulled through the rift. The galaxy as a whole was almost too big to even begin to tackle, so she tried to fixate on this one aspect for now.
The downside to multitasking was that it required a fair amount of grace if you were doing it on the move. Unfortunately, Hermione's grace had a habit of abandoning her from time to time. Lifetime bruises on her shins and hips were testament to how often she was bumping into things, and sometimes her own feet proved to be her downfall. She tripped and in an attempt to keep on her feet, Hermione's hands shot out as she stumbled and everything she had went flying. The scene nearly took more than one passerby down with her and in the end, though she managed to keep on her feet, Hermione's dark skin flushed with embarrassment as her wand rolled into the path of someone else. "Oh bloody hell," she sighed, "I'm so sorry, honestly," she babbled and stooped to pick up her things. "Please look out," she warned apologetically. If her wand were to snap, she was certain she wouldn't be able to prevent some sort of existential meltdown from occurring.