Ravenclaw
1/2 Veela
6th Year
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Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks.
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Post by Asher De'Laurent on Jun 7, 2016 11:58:15 GMT -5
It was passed noon on a Saturday when Asher strode into the library, a purpose in his walk. His too tight black jeans clung to his impossibly skinny legs, ripped in the knees purposefully. A sleeveless loose fitting navy tee was hanging loosely from his porcelain toned arms. His hair fell perfectly in place, it's pitch black color causing his deep blue eyes to pop, as it bounced with his stride in. The majority of his tattoos were visible, all of which floral and complementary. His black boots made a soft sound on the floor bellow him, almost as if he were gliding over it. He wore his costume, which embodied his identity. He felt comfort, and most importantly, to him, he felt power. If only every day could be Saturday, but then again that's what made weekend outfits special.
He carried a bag with him. A black leather messenger bag with a red leather trim. Inside was his wand, and two books he needed to return. "Dictionnaire du Chiffre-monogramme dans les Styles Moyen-age et Renaissance et couronnes nobilaires universelles" was the first, which he finished in about two days, and "Omens, Oracles & The Goat" a book which he thought he'd find trivial. He didn't, and actually received some good information from it. He'd been quite focused on symbols as of late, and how imagery could effect magic. Runes, and such, had fascinated him for some time. As it was not a popular subject, quite fringe in fact, magical imagery was a subject he studied mostly outside the classroom.
While these books were due, well overdue, this was not what brought him into the library on a Saturday afternoon in the dead of winter. No, Ash was on the prowl for a specific kind of prey. He'd gained a taste for the quiet type, and found them to be all the more appetizing. While the loud ones who paraded around the great all, flashing their tail feathers every chance they got, were still of interest he'd found this to be the challenge, and like all Ravenclaw students believed the challenging road held all the true treasures. He was on the hunt, which was clear as crystal in his eyes.
He returned the books promptly, and began to prowl through the corners of the vast maze before him.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 9, 2016 1:55:58 GMT -5
[ outfit. ] There was something about prowling the endless rows of books and desks that had proven to be a relaxing escape for Mordecai. While he preferred to breathe fresh air and surround himself in pine and fungi, the first thing that had eased him into modern society was the library. As a child, he had obsessed over fairy tales and nuanced chapter books. While his careful steps through the aisles did not remind him of the days where he imagined himself as but a character in a book-- a damsel in distress, ready to be saved from her tower-- the sense of ease that literature gave him was still just as it was. It was still a form of escapism, but he was saved now. Apathetic in his castle, missing the simpler times, but ultimately happier than he was before. These were secrets that he kept to himself. He was nothing more than a book nerd to the naked eye. Clasping a few heavy tomes, thick with earth magic and creepy crawlies, he found himself in the section dedicated to poetry. An unsurprising favorite of the Ravenclaw's. Hazel eyes traced the spines, until he reached a properly unknown author. He liked to expand his horizons, dabble in the underappreciated. Like a reflection of his own, blanketed life, or something else shallowly allegorical as that. Pressing the books close to his chest, he attempted to pull out one of the leather bound novels, only for a distinct shift to happen within the shelf. Reacting instinctively, he stepped back as the entire bookcase began pouring literature down, a waterfall looking to maim the tired eyed boy below. The noise caused quite a few students to come snooping his way, and all he could simply do was sigh. Was this a common thing in this department, as magic was prone to giving nasty surprises? Or was this just Mordecai's awful, awful luck? He made no move to show he was surprised, either way. Instead, he placed his tomes down on the desk behind him, ready to clean up the mess on his lonesome, when the final book left on the shelf seemingly threw itself into the Ravenclaw's face. The final attempt to play this trick on him. And people simply went back to what they were doing before. Completely losing motivation now, he pressed his hand against his bruising nose, eyes closed in thought. |
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Ravenclaw
1/2 Veela
6th Year
6
posts
6
likes
Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks.
|
Post by Asher De'Laurent on Jun 13, 2016 11:59:02 GMT -5
The multitude of thuds were like a deer breaking twigs while being stalked by a hunter. The prey had made itself known, and Asher began to follow the trail. He rounded the corner at a slow pace, seeking the source of the disturbance. He'd found it, and it looked tasty. With the crowd dispersing, finding little interest in the conundrum, Asher leaned on the nearest book case. "That fucking sucks." he said, eloquently. He began to bend down, assisting the boy with minimal effort. He looked familiar, maybe a year older or younger. He was sure he'd seen him around the common room, but they'd never spoken. Asher rarely went for Ravenclaws, as the game was less fun when someone could play it right back, but this one could be an exception. He had a great face, that was for sure. Good bone structure accompanied by hazel eyes, he'd definitely do. He looked at him, directly in the eyes, and continued to pick up a book one by one placing them delicately on the empty shelf before him.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2016 0:16:10 GMT -5
A voice broke Mordecai's daze, and he finally opened his eyes to face his mess. "It's alright," He replied humbly, though the boy's words were about how Mordecai would put it. It fucking sucked. But what could he really do about it at this point? Before the younger student joined him by his side, he attempted to snap his finger and clean it up already; magically fix this scenario, get it over with, and he could sulk in a corner with a book and bruised nose for the rest of the evening. However, the books rose and immediately fell back into place, his magic meaningless in whatever curse was upon the shelf. It was still shit coincidence for him find this shelf, out of all the shelves, but it was somehow relieving to know that it wasn't just him in this case. A trick bookcase. Causing menial labor for a guy whose summer job was literally lifting crates of books all day. But, more surprisingly, the other student began helping him clean the mess up. This was... a first. And initially, they stood side by side, picking the books up, until... Well, it wasn't unreasonable for someone to look someone else in the eyes, but. Mordecai certainly wasn't used to it. And he paused in place, an inexplicable feeling suddenly rushing his senses. He wasn't sure if he ever met this guy before, but he felt like he would remember a face like that. There was something so... tantalizing about it. Like Mordecai just wanted to absolutely rip it apart and gorge on the remains. Horror. That was the feeling. He cleared his throat and placed the book in his hand back on the shelf, eyes completely torn away from the other student now. "Do we know each other?" Mordecai began, swallowing down the thoughts he had prior in order to appear like a reasonable human being, "I just... Feel like I know you from somewhere. Not that I... Can recall seeing your face before. I feel like I'd remember your face." He felt foolish now, unsure what he was rambling about. Pink pigments blanketed his cheeks, and he was adverting his gaze. A part of him wanted to walk away, no matter how rude it was, but an encompassing, large part of him wanted to stay. And perhaps he trusted himself enough to remain calm. god sorry somehow i missed your reply to this until now ;w;
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