"Momma? Daddy? I'm home!"

Timothy Seneca smiled broadly as his little girl returned home from walking Minotaur, lowering his Kindle. "Welcome back, Penelope! Oh, before I forget, there's a letter for you on the table. Looks like something from the Academy, but since it was addressed to you I didn't want to open it without your permission."

“And hurry up and take it because I’m about to set the table for dinner,” Lois Seneca called from the kitchen. “Don’t go too far away—I’ll be done in about five minutes. Just waiting to take the pork chops out of the oven.”

Penelope set her dog free and hung his leash on the hook beside the door; she then grabbed the letter off of the kitchen table and excitedly headed to the couch to read it. She patted her lap and let out an oof whenever Minotaur leapt into it immediately. Minotaur technically wasn't allowed on the couch, but technically as long as he was on someone's lap it wasn't disobeying a rule. Penelope would feel worse for taking advantage of this loophole if she didn't come home to finding her Daddy or Momma doing the exact same thing. The English Bulldog was just too sweet and had too pitiful a face to deny him!

Penelope reached over his body to grab her letter, tearing the envelope open and reading its contents excitedly. Her father saw this and grinned, “Can I take that to mean that it’s good news?”

Penelope was going to respond, but her joyful explanation was stopped before it ever started by her mother calling them to the table, “Come on you two—I don’t want anything to get cold!”

While it would normally take the black-haired girl several minutes to convince her hefty hound to leave her lap, Minotaur immediately leapt off when he smelt pork chops. He toddled into the kitchen, hoping that his big old eyes could earn him the privilege of getting a bone. Timothy Seneca turned off his Kindle and soon followed, already commenting on how good everything smelt. The excited Penelope rushed to the table with the letter she had received still in her hand.

She managed to contain herself until plats were served, but as soon as everyone was seated and food was being consumed, she blurted out what she had been trying to tell he father earlier, “I got an acceptance letter! Crystal Academy’s approved my request to start a debate team! I’ll have the summer to set it up and then we’ll start competing in the Fall.”

Her father was excited and proud, and it showed in how he brandished the pork on his fork as though offering a toast, “That’s my girl!”

Her mother, however, was unsure, and it showed in how she stared down at the roll she buttered. "Are you sure, Penelope? You've had an awfully rough Spring semester... I thought you were going to take a break, volunteer at the library with your Father."

Penelope pushed the broccoli across her plate, trying to keep herself from tapping the table with her fork. "Momma... I want this. I wouldn't have applied to start the team if I didn't. I think it'll be fun, and I think it'll help me start to speak up more. You know, like you’ve been saying I should?”

"I just want you to be happy, Penelope,” Lois explained, spooning more mashed potatoes onto her plate. “I just don’t want you to start this up and then decide you’d rather not do it. Because I know you, sweetie, and you’ll force yourself to do it and your work at the library and just get more and more unhappy.”

“Now, honey, that’s not really fair,” Timothy chimed in, running his knife through his pork chop. He stabbed the meat with his fork before waving it for emphasis, ignoring the scattering of bread crumbs on the table cloth. “If Pene says she wants to do this, then she wants to do this, plain and simple. I’ve never known our girl to do anything half way or to get herself into a situation where she was doing something she didn’t want to do or let down someone she promised something to. We raised her better than that.”

“Timothy, that’s not what I’m saying—why are you acting like I’m being dismissive? I’m just trying—”

“You don’t mean to be dismissive, Momma, but you are,” Penelope interjected, surprising even herself. “I hear what you’re saying, and I’m still going to keep up my volunteer work with Daddy, but… I really, really want to do this. I know it’s going to be a lot of hard work, and I’ll do it, I swear!”

Penelope pushed away from the table with a sudden rush of energy. She dashed to the sink and rinsed off her place before running up the stairs to her room. Normally, she wouldn’t run in the house; her parents would fuss at her. Today, though, she didn’t care. She wanted to get started. She was going to do it. She would make the flyers. She would gain the people. She would have her debate team!

Even if it took her all summer to establish it.


[OOC Note:
Participant: Penelope Seneca
Player: Quicksilver the Archangel
Word Count: 871]