Post by Odette Stonewood on Aug 23, 2009 20:01:43 GMT
“Feed me and I live, give me drink and I die.”
Odette rolled her eyes, the simple riddle to the Ravenclaw common room could have been solved by a half-wit. Sighing, Odette easily replied, “Fire.” Entering the airy common room, the witch proceeded to one of the circular couches that were the focus of the room. Bright sunlight poured in from large windows, perfect for illuminating the essay she was about to write. After the library had grown too noisy to concentrate – really, what would posses people to socialize in a library? – so Odette had migrated to the common room. Only a few other students milled about, most working.
Making herself comfortable on the overstuffed blue sofa, Odette propped open her Advanced Potions book and unrolled a piece of parchment. Quill at the ready, Odette gave the difficult pen one last look of distaste before getting to work. So intensely absorbed was Odette in the scratch of her quill against the parchment (and trying dearly to make her handwriting legible), the thud of someone flopping down next to her startled the witch. Ink splattered across the essay, effectively ruining two hours worth of work. A death glare fixed on her face, Odette slowly turned to face perpetrator. “I'm going to kill you.”
Odette rolled her eyes, the simple riddle to the Ravenclaw common room could have been solved by a half-wit. Sighing, Odette easily replied, “Fire.” Entering the airy common room, the witch proceeded to one of the circular couches that were the focus of the room. Bright sunlight poured in from large windows, perfect for illuminating the essay she was about to write. After the library had grown too noisy to concentrate – really, what would posses people to socialize in a library? – so Odette had migrated to the common room. Only a few other students milled about, most working.
Making herself comfortable on the overstuffed blue sofa, Odette propped open her Advanced Potions book and unrolled a piece of parchment. Quill at the ready, Odette gave the difficult pen one last look of distaste before getting to work. So intensely absorbed was Odette in the scratch of her quill against the parchment (and trying dearly to make her handwriting legible), the thud of someone flopping down next to her startled the witch. Ink splattered across the essay, effectively ruining two hours worth of work. A death glare fixed on her face, Odette slowly turned to face perpetrator. “I'm going to kill you.”
