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Post by LORELAI GAUNT on Dec 21, 2011 1:48:39 GMT -5
It was now the first day of winter break, and this had been long awaited by Lorelai Gaunt. Granted, she had a great deal of work which she wished to accomplish during this time, but part of that consisted of spending time with her fiance, Patrick Parkinson. Well, perhaps that shouldn't be considered work. She wanted to do that.
Where was he anyway? Lorelai sat on the hill overlooking the Black Lake. She had accidentally wore her Slytherin robes by accident. It was morning, and though it was a Saturday, she had completely forgotten that she could wear whatever she had wanted. Instead, she was in her slytherin robes and school dress attire. Oh well. She didn't mind it that much. After all, her Slytherin robes were the garments of her great-great-great grandfather. Well, it probably went back even further than that.
Lorelai laid on her back, her arms were crossed behind her head. She was feeling pretty energized after a full night of sleep, and at this point it was only just about 11am. A great time for a little romantic rendezvous. It could all begin once Patrick made his way here.
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Post by BIANCA BEAUMONT on Dec 21, 2011 2:18:37 GMT -5
Smiling. She woke up smiling.
It was a rare thing for Bianca to feel such a gentle, innocent bliss; but, who would not feel such a lighthearted joy when they could awaken to the fact that they no longer had classes until the new year? Bianca had simply remained wrapped in her cream-colored sheets, the ivory enveloping her soft skin. For a while, she considered not even leaving her bed - something that she would typically refrain from doing. Bianca deserved it though; she had worked hard and well this last semester, and sometimes rest was a necessity.
She probably remained with the comforter draped over her petite frame for roughly an hour before becoming bored with her longuing. Sure, she could have rested - but the more productive side of Bianca felt the continuing urge to actually get up and move. She figured it would not have been a large loss to begin with. Winter break was the second longest break students received (the first obviously being summer) and Bianca knew there would be more days to exercise her right to laziness.
Removing the covers, Bianca swung her feet over the bedside. She stretched her arms and walked over to her closet - now, what to wear? She was a bit happy to not have to wear her robes, not that she minded. Bianca just missed variety and being able to get more dolled up. That being said, she immediately picked out an nude-colored sweater dress with a taupe coat trimmed with ivory fur. Bianca had always adored subtle, soft colors remininiscent of ballerinas and Rococo-styled imagery. It was the way of the French.
She was not sure why she was suddenly compelled to bundle up; yes it was cold, but why was she going outside? Perhaps it was her body simply craving fresh air. Now that Bianca thought about it, she had not taken part in a leisurely stroll in sometime. Actually, she wanted to do more than a stroll. Walking to her chest, she opened it, rumagging through her belongs until she found a pair of white ice skates. She smiled. She had not skated in a long time.
Departing from the dungeon, Bianca walked outside, the cold, clean air caressing her frame. She considered making a snow angel. It was a childish thing, but the scenery was astounding. Every year, Bianca could never refrain from being in awe of the snowfall and the picturesque landscape of the grounds. Maybe on the way back she would make one. That way, she would not freeze while skating.
Bianca had just about reached the black lake, when she noticed someone sitting near by, overlooking the scenery. She blinked. Oh yes, she recalled, Lorelai. A nice enough girl from a prestigious family; luckily, Bianca had never had any quarrels with the younger girl. Bianca would even go far enough to call her "sweet." With that, she approached the third year quietly; the cool, reserved glint was still in her eyes, however it softened ever so slightly for the third year. "The scenery never ceases to amaze me," she spoke suddenly, "there's just something about it." It was a strange way to begin a conversation, but Bianca was not too concerned. She turned her head to face Lorelai. "Enjoying yourself?"
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Post by LORELAI GAUNT on Dec 21, 2011 2:44:40 GMT -5
"Hm?"
Lorelai turned upon hearing the voice of another student coming from behind her. Surely, it wasn't Patrick. It didn't sound anything like him. It wasn't even a boy. It was most definitely the voice of a girl. It was a bit annoying, of course. Lorelai was only looking to spend time with Patrick today, but she knew much better than to be rude, and it wasn't even like Patrick was here yet.
"Oh, hey Bianca," Lorelai greeted her. She gestured her right hand and then pet the ground next to her, inviting Bianca to come and lay, or sit, aside of her. Regardless, Lorelai folded her arms under her head once again in a rather relaxing position.
"Well, not as much as I could be. I'm waiting for my fiance. We're supposed to be having a romantic date in the snow this morning," Lorelai explained. "But, he's not here yet. Not that I'm worried."
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Post by BIANCA BEAUMONT on Dec 21, 2011 20:38:50 GMT -5
After seeing Lorelai's invitation, Bianca sat herself next to the girl. The air was so cold that she almost did not notice a difference when her hands sank into the soft, powdering snow. She could feel the powdering flakes compact, becoming slick and firm as she pressed upon it. It was such an innocent sensation; Bianca always remembered being a child when she would go to the French countryside with her parents in the winter. Things were so much more simple then, because she had not known anything at the time.
Such a nostalgic feeling.
Bianca watched as Lorelai fell back into the snow, her arms serving as a type of headrest. As she talked of waiting for her fiance, Bianca blinked. It took her a few seconds, but then she vaguely recalled that Lorelai was engaged - an arranged marriage decided by her family and...was it the Parkinsons? Yes, Bianca believed it was something along the lines of the that. "I had forgotten you were engaged," Bianca noted, turning her gaze to look out at the Black Lake. She crossed her ankes. Even whe she was sitting on the ground, it was a habit.
Arranged marriages were not all that uncommon, but at the same time Bianca did not know many who did engage in arranged unions aside from the purest of purebloods. Although she was from a fairly wealthy family, Bianca's parents had never once even suggested an arranged marriage to Bianca. Actually, when she thought about it, she was certain her father would prefer her to not get married.
She glanced back at Lorelai. "I'm sure he'll be here soon," she said, "I had come to maybe do a little bit of ice skating, so I'll be sure to leave you two be." With that last comment, her lips upturned into a tiny, slightly playful smile with a semi-teasing glint in her eyes. She of course meant nothing by it - it was almost a natural sort of instinct, perhaps the look an older sister would have girl a younger sister had the younger sister said she was going to spend sometime with her boyfriend.
The looked faded. "I take it you get along well, then?" She asked, the playfull glint now gone. A part of her was genuinely curious. She had seen Lorelai and her fiance, but had never seen them intereact on an intimate basis.
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Post by MONROE MAGNUSSON on Dec 21, 2011 21:36:37 GMT -5
The problem with being an Animagus, Monroe mused, was the issue of clothing. It was difficult to learn how to shift back into it, and required a certain level of focus that was difficult to retain while also controlling the magic that allowed one to turn into an animal. The problem with being a shark Animagus, of course, was that one invariably shifted to and from human and animal... while in water.
So, not wanting to risk getting his heavy winter clothing soaked in frigid water, Monroe had disrobed and left his clothes on the bank. Even during warmer months, he shifted out of his form and into the nude -- or occasionally into swim trunks, if he was feeling up to it. Currently still in tiger shark form, he cruised along through the lake's shallows with broad, elegant strokes of his tail. Great patches of the surface were frozen over, and his dorsal fin often brushed up against the ice; he'd melted an opening for himself by the bank where he'd left his clothes -- just because the lake was frozen over didn't mean he wasn't going to practice his magic.
Seaweed grew several meters from shore, and he could smell the fish hiding there; could feel the faint electric pulses generated by their tiny hearts. He swam towards them, sleekly slipping through the water. He was a specter, a shadow, a perfect predator -- sometimes he wished he could stay in this form; take up residence in the lake. Muscles tensed, he exploded into a flurry of movement, catching one of the small fish between his rather massive jaws.
He tore into the animal's flesh with a shake of his head, the spill of blood more than appealing to his sharkbrain. With his snack consumed and digesting in his belly, however, he decided it was time to leave the chill of the water and make his way back to the castle. He returned quickly to the spot of his entry and jarringly returned to his bipedal form. The water's temperature, so easy to ignore against the abrasive skin of the shark, was biting and painful; he was glad for the speedo he had shifted back into, despite how it clung, too tight, to his hips.
He clambered up out of the water, dripping wet and shivering, and reached out for his clothes---
Which were not where he'd left them.
He curled in on himself, hugging his arms across his chest as his teeth started to chatter, and looked about the bank with a frantic edge rarely seen with his motions. "Where the hell," he muttered to himself, shifting from one foot to the next as the nerves on the bottoms of his feet screamed their discomfort. Another minute passed and a quick jog down the bank later and Monroe's clothing was nowhere to be found.
He was just going to have to run back to the castle in his speedo, and hope he didn't get frostbite.
And so he ran, with awkward, high-kneed steps, trying to step on only the shallowest banks of snow. His pale skin flushed an embarrassing pink and his teeth chattered audibly, his damp hair sticking against his forehead. As he climbed the hill, he picked out two shapes -- two students -- conversing; he recognized the taller of the two as Bianca, the girl he'd run into in the library.
He was going to pass them as it was, and he grit his teeth and hurried over to greet them. Not bothering for formal introductions (or for their conversation in general), he shook himself like a dog and nodded in quick recognition to Bianca. "Y-y-you ladies w-wouldn't hap-pen to have s-seen my clothes?"
ooc| ... idek. IDEK. /waves hands IT HAD TO BE DONE >:C
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Post by LORELAI GAUNT on Dec 22, 2011 1:25:08 GMT -5
Lori had prepared herself to answer the question Bianca had opsed to her, but before she could do so, something else caught her eye at the base of the lake. An older boy whom she recognized as being from the Slytherin house was climbing out of the lake, quite naked at that. At least, he appeared almost naked from this distance. However, as she looked a bit harder, she realized he was wearing a speedo.
He stopped before the two of them, apparently, he was very cold. Lorelai found her eyes fixated on his speedo, her eyes scanning the shape of it, and then up to his abs, down his legs, until she finally realized what she was doing. Quickly, she averted her eyes to his face, somewhat nervously. She hoped he hadn't noticed.
All the while, she had been scanning too much to make out what he had said, especially with his chilled stuttering. She didn't wish to ask him again, so instead, she turned to Bianca, hoping that she could answer his question for her.
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Post by BIANCA BEAUMONT on Dec 22, 2011 1:52:30 GMT -5
What.
Was.
He.
Wearing.
When she first saw Monroe, her eyes immediately widened, primarily from shock. What in God's name was he doing in a speedo? Bianca had not even noticed Lorelai's reaction; im all honesty, she was tempted to simply stare at his well-sculpted body also. It was quite a ridiculous situation: two girls, chatting outside on a snowy day, and a nearly naked boy comes up asking them if they have any idea where his clothing are. Bianca felt like she was suddenly taking Alice's place while meeting some outrageous character from Wonderland.
After approximately a minute of simply staring, Bianca started giggling. Actually, she had been giggling uncontrollably for a few seconds now, but she had instinctively covered her mouth with her dainty, gloved hand. Her bell-like laugh was muffled, but her shoulders trembled ever so slightly. A part of her felt the tiniest bit of pity for the boy - but it was just so funny. Also, it may have been different had it been any other season, but winter? If Monroe thought winter was a good time to take a morning swim, then he was just asking for trouble.
Once Bianca had calmed herself, she took a breath, recovering from her giggling fit. "I apologize, but I can't say I have any knowledge of where your clothing have run off to," She said, honestly having no idea where his clothing were. She had not even seen Monroe since the previous night in the library - and then he had not been properly dressed either (although, at least he had been covered by an adequate amount of fabric). He was an...interesting young man to say in the least. Bianca could not help but wonder what she would see him in the next time she ran into Monroe.
She glanced around, a bit more serious now. Alas, she saw no sgn of any clothing left astray. Bianca looked back at Monroe, then down at his speedo. After already laughing when she first saw him, Bianca was able to see the more realistic aspect of the situation: that it was below zero and her classmate had no way of keeping warm. The giddiness in her expression decreased immediately. "Goodness, Monroe, why are you not clothed properly? You're limps are going to fall off," she chided, surprisingly concerned.
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Post by PATRICK PARKINSON on Dec 22, 2011 9:35:19 GMT -5
Patrick awoke with a jolt, sitting upright. He had stayed up late the night before reading about cushioning charms, a charm designed to create a cushion of air between a wizard and their broom, useful for extended flights. Now, he awoke, a sheet of parchment stuck to the side of his face. The dungeon was a dark and cold place, especially in the winter. It was probably the chills that had woken him, having fallen asleep at a desk, rather than in his warm bed. He glanced over to the clock, peeling the parchment from his face. And, much like he had just jolted up from the desk, he no jumped up out of his chair, realizing he was late. Quickly, he rummaged through his trunk. Saturday, Saturday, Saturday.... not just any Saturday, the first Saturday of their vacation. No need for his school uniform. Though, what else did he have to wear? He had normal robes, sure, but they were at the bottom of the trunk, and he didn't have time to go digging them out at the moment. And so, reluctantly, he dressed in his uniform.
A few moments later, he was dashing across the school grounds. Hogwarts was a big place, and the grounds were large. He saw Lori before he had gotten close enough to say anything. But that wasn't all he had seen. A few yards away, a boy was climbing out of the lake, undressed. A blond familiar-looking boy. His fellow Slytherin beater, Monroe. The boy stood there for a moment, glancing around, before jogging towards Lori and her friend. Patrick felt his cheeks flush at the idea of a half naked boy approaching his fiance, and hastened his pace. Seconds later he was within earshot of the group. He slowed down into a jog, and then a walk, as he approached. His cheeks still flushed with mild annoyance, he surveyed the situation for a moment. Then he spoke. "Hullo ladies! And 'morning Monroe. Must be cold in there, eh?" He chirped mockingly, a not-so-subtle joke about the tightness of the other boy's swimwear.
Apparently his annoyed jealousy had got the better of him. Patrick was normally so quiet and sweet and bookworm-y. Now he was making cracks about the size of another boy's junk. A boy who was much older and stronger than him. Feeling a bit bad for his remark, as well as a tad fearful of possible retaliation, he focused his attention instead on Lorelai, sitting in the snow on her other side, and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Feeling it was best if he just refrained from talking for a bit until Monroe had left, he simply sat there, flashing a pleasant (albeit forced) smile at Lori's friend, and scooting closer to Lori for warmth.
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