[u][b]Regis Dimitrios[/b][/u]

"Well, uh, salutations to you too. Regis, right? I'm Monty Goldberg, though you probably heard that already."

Oh thank whatever merciful deity, gods, goddesses, demigods, divine powers, celestial beings, or even some eldritch abomination floating over the multiverse, Regis thanks them all for the fact the boy reiterated his name. Monty! Monty Goldberg! A fantastic name! An easily remembered name! A fantastically easily remembered name!

"H-haha, yes. Of course I did. Already hear that. Ha. Obviously." Regis gulped down his dry throat, following his soon to be partner's hand to the pedestal, placing his above the boy's outstretched hand. One of the druids began to chant an ancient... rhyme? Mantra? It was certainly ancient, at least. They dripped water over their hands, which Regis somewhat hoped masked his sweaty hand, at least a bit. But Regis barely noticed much of this, for all he could focus on was how much water he needed to quench the barren wasteland that was now his mouth. Tingling sensation in his hand, signifying their newfound bond? Who cares?! He was about friggen' asphyxiate!

The rest of the ritual played out in a manner he could only describe as anticlimactic. After all, they could hardly make a big show of every single student in the hall, they would be there all day. If it weren't for his pressing need to not succumb to dehydration, he may have been somewhat disappointed with the outcome. New mark on hand, Regis descended the podium towards the two volunteers that beckoned them down.

"Hey there, we'll take your luggage and show--" the male one of the two started speaking, but Regis cut him off.

"I'll take my luggage, you get me water, pronto," he said, his mouth in turbo mode. The volunteer looked to his partner, confused. "Go go, chop chop, if I fall over dead I'll blame your laziness. Go!" 

"Uh, sure," the man uncertainly said, and trudged off to fulfil his sacred duty. Regis grabbed his luggage and began to follow the remaining volunteer with his newly created partner.

"So, Monty! Guess we're going to be stuck together this year! Well, not 'stuck' in the sense of 'reluctantly glued together', more in the sense of, uh..." Regis wasn't quite sure how to finish that sentence. So he didn't! "Well, anyway! What are you into, Monty? Reading? Scrap booking? Firearms?"