A blue mini-van pulls up outside of Whiteoak Hall. The first person out of the vehicle is a young knocker, just under five feet tall and around fifteen years old. Her long hair is bright purple, complementing perfectly her purple overalls, purple shirt, and purple boots. Around her neck hangs a silver locket. Next from the front seats emerge a mortal couple who appear to be in their forties. The man is tall and thin with light skin and salt and pepper hair, wearing jeans and a button down shirt. The woman is shorter then her husband with long brunette hair, and is wearing a sensible skirt and sweater. Her rosy cheeks, red nose and pale skin are signs of her knocker heritage.
The young woman walks around to the other side of the mini-van and opens the remaining door extending a hand in to help out the remaining passenger, her grandmother. The old knocker grump pushes the younger kithain's hand aside, "Thank you bubbela, but I'm not as much of an altacaka as your mother would like to think." The grump who appears to be in at least her sixties, but in surprisingly good shape for a woman of her age, dressed in a long skirt and red blouse emerges on her own from the van.
The middle aged woman, obviously the girl's mother, as she opens the back of the van comments, "Thank you again mom for getting Holly in here. I don't know how you pulled it off for them to accept her in the middle of the semester."
"Well, I would do anything for my little bubbela. You know that." The grump replies.
The young girl blushes as she starts to unload suitcases from the back of the van, "Can you not call me that in public Grandma, please, it's embarrassing."
"As long as you're my granddaughter, I'm allowed to call you whatever I want. You're still my baby girl. Let the cucks think whatever they want about that, I don't care." The old woman replies.
The girl's father grabs a pile of papers from the car and hands them to his wife. "Why don't you go and check in with the administration and find out what room she's in? We'll unpack and move what we can into the lobby."
The woman takes the papers, and kisses her husband on the cheek. "Ok dear. Just watch yourself. You don't want to throw out your back."
"Yes dear." He replies as he lifts a rather heavy old singer sewing machine out of the van and carries it into the lobby, putting it down with the few bags his daughter and mother-in-law have managed to carry in.