Someone walks down the hall that lead to the dining room, alone. "Hello? I don't mean to bother anyone, but I thought I'd come here for shelter if that's ok with you?"

Renegadeoftheshire it is hard to continue after that.
All eyes turned to Miss Plumber. This was a particular school after all, and there were normally rules who could stay and who couldn't. Everyone here had been to another world. Who was this stranger?

Miss Plummer looked around the dining hall and motioned for a male staff member to come with her. They went into the hallway and found a teenager girl standing there. She had short, brown hair tied into a ponytail except her long bangs on the side of her face. She was wearing a navy blue and white varsity jacket and jeans.
"Oh finally! Someone to help me. I'm Hunter."
"Hello Hunter." Miss Plummer said while holding out her hand for a handshake. Hunter shook her hand. "We were just going to have some lunch. Would you like to eat?" Miss Plumber asked.
"Uh sure." Hunter replied.
"So, where are you from?" Miss Plummer asked while looking at Hunter's clothes.
"I'm from the future, in the 1980's. I live in America."
"So, how did you know about the school? How did you get here?"
"Well, I've been visiting my grandpa in England, and he told me about this school. He thought this school would be a great idea. So then I grabbed my bike earlier today, and rode myself to the school."
"Well, you must have a good story to tell."
"Oh yeah! So one day, I went into Kevin Flynn's Arcade and snuck into his basement. I found a computer, then I pushed a few buttons. It seemed that I pressed the right buttons to enter into another world. It's called the Grid."

Miss Plumber thought, Computer, Grid, this girl is original to say the least. But out loud she just said, "Children, there is a new comer, Hunter."

(Ariel.of.Narnia edited “boy” to “girl”, in keeping with Rennie’s character as introduced.)

(What a colourful cast of characters we’ve got! So cool to see all these different personalities coming together.
@Ren: Hope you don’t mind that I’m shaping Hunter a little more, based on the chats we’ve had. 🙂
Note that I’ve written the kids’ reactions to Hunter as if they know nothing… because they don’t. The information Hunter has given has been, so far, just between her and Polly (and the unnamed male staffer).)

“Hello, Hunter,” came the choral response. Several students closest to the dining hall doors were especially friendly, inviting the newcomer to sit in any one of a dozen spots. Many others watched her closely; a good deal of whispering erupted, likely remarking on her sense of fashion and seemingly boyish hair - such strange attire, and that in the estimation in a roomful of sojourners to other worlds!

Evelyn twisted in her seat to watch the new girl. Hunter grinned and waved at just about everyone with whom she made eye contact, and she walked with an easy, self-assured gait. Evelyn might have accused her of swaggering but for the complete lack of haughtiness in her expression and posture. She continued to watch as Miss Plummer led Hunter to a table somewhat less populated - a table not at all far from Evelyn’s -, moved her own lunch so as to sit across from her, and proceeded to converse with her. “Am I supposed to eat with Miss Plummer too?” she asked Anna. “Since I’m new?”

“No, you don’t have to. Maybe this girl - Hunter, I mean - is… different. Did you hear her calling in the hallway? I don’t think she’s ever been here before, or had an interview like the rest of us.”

“Doesn’t she need one?”

Anna nodded in the direction of Hunter and Miss Plummer. “Maybe that’s what’s happening right now.”

One of the girls craned her neck to get a better look at Hunter. “I wonder what time she’s from.”

Evelyn furrowed her brow. “Same as us, what else?”

“I don’t think so,” the girl answered. “Just look at her clothes. We don’t have those here, so she must come from a time when we import these American fashions.”

“Maybe she’s American,” another offered. “Some students come from far away.”

The girl shrugged. “Maybe. But I visited America over the hols. Even there, girls don’t wear denim and I’ve only seen them wear those coats if they're their boyfriends' coats.”

“You think she’s from… later on? The future?” Evelyn asked breathlessly.

“We’ve had people from all over time come through here.” To the others, she added, “Do you remember Fearghal?” pronounced fer-gull

“The tall Irish boy from last year? Of course!” Anna answered.

“Right! The oldest student ever, I think. He was from the Middle Ages, wasn’t he?”

“Maybe not the oldest, but certainly the oldest I've ever met.”

Evelyn knew she shouldn’t let her mouth hang open, but she couldn’t help it. “But h-how is that possible?”

One of the boys piped up. “I once overheard Miss Plummer say that the Academy has its own ‘chink’, only it’s not between worlds, but between times. Somewhere by the front gate, I think. Or was it the garden gate?”

Evelyn hardly knew what to think. A ‘chink’ between times? A boy from the past? Maybe a girl from the future? Not to mention all the worlds visited by all the students who’d ever enrolled at the Academy? The world - or worlds, really, were apparently much, much bigger than she’d ever imagined.

(Basically all that to give an explanation for students originating from the past and future. 🙂 Perhaps not the only one, but an explanation anyway.

And, yes, I looked up the history of jeans and varsity jackets. (Note: None of the links below are affiliated with TLC; click at your own risk.)
Jeans were basically working men’s clothes from the beginning. Denim production went down in the 1940s due to WWII. In the 1950s, they became symbols of teen rebellion, especially through the influence of cinema. Women rarely wore jeans until the 1960s, when hippie culture set in. Jeans grew in popularity from there, becoming mainstream in the 1970s (source: https://www.liveabout.com/the-history-of-jeans-2040397 ). The mainstream-ness reached into the UK at this time (source: https://fashionunited.uk/news/fashion/a-brief-history-of-the-rise-of-denim-jeans/2018041229096 )
As for varsity jackets, they started out American, male, and for varsity sports team players of note; this expanded to high school and the big leagues. Until sports opened up to women in the 1970s, girls only wore letterman jackets as a symbol of dating an athlete (because said jacket belonged to him). Varsity jackets came into public fashion in the late 1980s, which is the time Hunter comes from; through the music industry and celebrities, varsity jackets were introduced to the UK at this time. (sources: https://historydaily.org/letter-perfect-the-history-of-varsity-jackets , https://www.wearyourlogo.co.uk/blog/college-and-varsity-jackets-a-brief-history/ )

(sorry for the mix up Renegade)
Polly began the interview with Hunter. Several questions of an easier nature. How old was she? What was the name of her grandfather? Did he know she was here? How to contact him?
(I believe Renegade should answer these questions.)

Joseph at first seemed not to hear the Professor; he appeared lost in thought. A moment later, he shook himself and said, "There's not really much more to tell, sir."
"Splendid." said the Professor. "Thank you for telling me your story, Joseph. Please ask Miss Plummer to show you to the dining hall. I'll be along shortly."
"Thank you, sir." said Joseph soberly. He got up and went out.
"Strange," muttered the Professor to himself. "I never heard anything like it..."
He laughed to himself and shook his head. "Why Digory, you old fool," he thought, "Of course you have. What you've seen wasn't so very different at all."
Professor Kirke rose from his chair and left the study, his head full of clouded memories of cold, strange places and mysterious people.

@ Ariel: Thanks for moving this along! Anyone can introduce their characters to Joseph at this point if you like!

(@cleander: No problem! And hurrah, Joseph's come out to play!
Just walking Joseph down to the dining hall here. And since he seems troubled about something "Over There", that's how I've written him here.)

Joseph had walked in the direction he thought would lead him to the dining hall, but there were no stairs in sight - no downward stairs, at any rate: the staircase he'd found led up to the third floor. As if that wasn't bad enough, he couldn't seem to find anybody to redirect him, much less Miss Plummer. Maybe Professor Kirke could point him in the right direction. He retraced his steps to the professor's office and found a young woman peeking in.

"There you are!" she said when she spotted him. "I came up to fetch you for lunch."

"I got lost on the way," Joseph explained. He pushed through the thoughts of his otherworldly adventures, but he couldn't recall the lady's name.

"This place is something of a labyrinth at first," she conceded cheerfully, "but you'll get used to it soon. Come; it's this way."

Joseph followed her. "Pardon me, but what was your name again?"

"Miss Fletcher. Our paths have crossed a few times, but only briefly. I'm Miss Plummer's secretary and one of the dormitory resident assistants."

"I'll try to remember that."

Miss Fletcher smiled over her shoulder. "I don't mind repeating it."

The dull roar that signified a full dining hall grew a little louder as they approached the stairs leading down to the main floor.

"You had your first day of classes yesterday, correct? How did you find that?" Miss Fletcher asked.

Joseph pulled himself out of his thoughts again. "Yes. I'm going to have to adjust to the way things are done here, but it seemed alright so far."

Miss Fletcher paused at the bottom of the stairs. "It'll come, Joseph. I promise."

Joseph gave her a half-hearted smile and a nod before proceeding past her into the dining hall.

(Yup, totally threw in a little Puddleglum reference, not that Miss Fletcher knows anything about him. Also, I've set Joseph's admittance to the school to be a couple days ago. I figured it made more sense that way, since Professor Kirke doesn't handle orientations.
Suggested additions: let's get more character interactions happening! And remember that you can absolutely develop (and name!) nameless/faceless students too like the ones Evelyn met in the sitting room. Even if they only ever remain "background" characters without fleshing out on their adventures!)

(sorry but could we get the general ages of the children in question?)

The children turned to see Joseph enter. Mathew locked eyes with him. Some sort of understanding was in both of their gazes before they both turned their eyes away. Mathew to his drawings and Joseph to the other kids.

(Ooh, I wonder what kind of understanding Joseph and Matthew have....
Regarding ages, I'd like to know too. Matthew is eleven. Anna and Hunter have been described as teenagers (I assume Anna is an older teen, but that's not been stated outright; she was the oldest student in the sitting room). I don't believe anyone else has been given an age.)

Joseph collected his lunch and surveyed the room for a spot to sit.

“Hi! Joseph! Over here!”

It was Roger Harding - a name he wasn’t allowed to forget, so said the boy in question. To his credit, he’d been right: of all the names and faces Joseph had muddled up in his few days here, Roger was not one of them. Maybe it was his distinctively pale features. Maybe it was the voice too deep for his slight frame and fourteen years. More likely it was his fervour for absolutely anything he chose to fix upon. Including, apparently, his self-appointed title of Joseph’s new best friend. Joseph hadn’t decided how he felt about that just yet, but Roger seemed a decent chap whose friendly beckoning warranted rewarding.

“You’re late.”

“I was with Professor Kirke.”

“I suppose that can’t be helped.” Roger let out a mock sigh of long-suffering before his smile flashed back. “But now that you’re here, you can meet Evelyn! Evelyn, this is my swell bunkmate Joseph; Joseph, Evelyn.”

Joseph nodded cordially and greeted his new acquaintance. She responded in kind.

“She’s just arrived today. Between her and that girl over there -” Roger pointed at a girl sitting with Miss Plummer - “you’re rising in seniority already!”

Joseph tucked into his lunch with as much efficiency he could politely manage. He had lost time to make up for, after all,

(Just so everyone knows, I have zero ideas for Roger outside of what’s written above, so don’t worry about waiting for additional information about him, just do whatever you please. 😀 )

(Just for info: if I knew what sort of understanding Joseph and Matthew have, I wouldn't have written it so cryptically)

Evelyn had noticed the look between Joseph and Matthew but put it off as her imagination. She also realized that since the lunch had begun Roger had been the only boy who had said anything. And most of the boys (Joseph included) were ignoring her. Was she invisible? She decided to concentrate on her new friends and let the boys to their own affairs.

(sorry if this sounds weird, but I couldn't help but notice that most people speaking to Evelyn were girls)

"Oh yes. I'm 16. My grandpa's name is Grandpa Joe, and he knew that the school existed, so he told me about it. I thought I could give it a shot." Hunter replied to Miss Plumber.

@knight: Guess we’ll have to discover the Joseph-Matthew connection! As for Evelyn and the boys, it was mainly because only girls had been named till just recently. The boys probably don’t mean to ignore her, but it’s fairly natural for boys to hang out with boys and girls to hang out with girls, generally speaking. 🙂
@Rennie: It would help if you gave some context when you change POVs. 🙂

Miss Plummer searched her memory for any student named Joe, in the event that she could place Hunter’s grandfather as a former student. As far as she could recall, there had been a few scattered about through the years. Joey Farrow the stableboy. Josiah - what was his surname? - the linguist. Joe Blackwell with the club foot. Of course, the current Joseph, arrived only a few days ago. There were more, she knew, but none she could positively identify as Hunter’s Grandpa Joe. But Grandpa Joe wasn’t the one here for an interview, nor did he have to be a graduate of Chinks and Chasms to have known of it, so she set aside her questions about him for the time being. All except for the most important one for the moment:

“Does he know you’re here now?

Hunter nodded and swallowed a mouthful of food. “Yeah, he does. He even drew a map for me.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “He figures you could help me with something, though I’m not sure how.”

Miss Plummer smiled. “We can certainly try.”

M.K. followed the others into the hall and towards the serving line for food, lost in her own thoughts the only thing that breaks her attention is when a strange girl enters and asks to shelter there. With a suspicious gaze, she watches as Miss Plummer escorts her into the hall and frowns.

When she's finished going through the line, she pauses briefly and scans the room sighing. Once again she must make the choice of who's table to sit at. Spotting Matthew at the back she makes her way over, glancing out of the corner of her eye at his artwork as she approaches. "May I join you?"

Matthew had seen MK coming, but her request surprised him. No one approached him after an “episode” unless they wanted something, so what did she want? He attempted a nonchalant shrug to mask his reservations.

MK plunked down across from him and wrinkled her nose to push her glasses up. She opened her mouth to say something, then decided against it. She shoveled a forkful of food into her mouth and darted her eyes to her right -- where there was nothing to look at but the wall beside them. Matthew turned his own eyes away and back down to the sketch in his lap. She wanted something, all right. She just didn’t know how to say it. Maybe if he discouraged conversation, she wouldn’t say anything at all and he wouldn't have to defend himself.

“Why, it’s Evelyn!” she exclaimed around a chipmunk'ed cheek.

“Shh!” he hissed desperately. He hugged his sketchbook to his chest and looked around to see if anyone had taken notice. No one had.

Unfazed, MK continued, though she did lower her voice. “I do a little doodling myself, see?” She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and laid it before him. On one side was a tally of checkers games won — MK was the clear winner —, but the rest of the page consisted of scattered sketches. A pocket watch. A raindrop and a ripple. A tangled vine of flowers, some with five round petals, some with extended stamens, some simply represented by swirls. A string of loops and dots and heavy strokes that might be another language. Matthew nodded to acknowledge them.

“It’s not great art, I know,” MK said, “but I do it to remember the worlds I’ve seen.”

Matthew raised his eyes to meet hers. They were green and inviting, shining bright from behind her spectacles. He looked at her drawings again. She bent her head down to search him out. He clutched his sketchbook tighter. Maybe he could share some of his sketches. Not the ones of Marus, and certainly none of the dreams — though at least the one of Evelyn and the bullet and the shattered window was safely tucked away in his drawers. But the ones he showed Professor Kirke? Those he could share.

A chorus of laughter caught his attention and he swivelled to discover its source. Anna, Evelyn, Joseph, and the others were rising from their seats. He opened his mouth, then shut it. He licked his lips and shot MK what he hoped looked like an apologetic glance. Without bothering about his dishes, he trotted after the group, carefully tearing the latest page of sketches from his book.