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Post by momo on Feb 25, 2012 20:03:16 GMT -5
It was around noon when Rhye decided to head out of his dorm room. He pulled on his black cardigan over a a faded blue v-neck, slipped on his black loafers, and was wanting desperately to take a walk. Leaving the common room, he said hello to a few Ravenclaws, hugged a couple of his female friends, and grabbed his book off the table near the entrance/exit.
He jogged down the hall, carefully maneuvering down the changing cases, having memorized their patterns by his sixth year. He dodged a few more people, not wanting to talk at that moment in time. Rhye's hands gripped his book tighter as he finally took a huge breath of fresh air. He had made it outside alive, onto the paved courtyard. His loafers clicked softly on the pebbles.
He had his eyes set on a willow-like tree that was alone in the yard, providing a shelter that he had always yearned for in the Summertime. Taking a quick glace around him once he was there, Rhye sunk down to the bottom, letting his head hit the trunk of the tree lightly. Pulling his book out from under his arm, Rhye stuck his nose in and started reading, kind of departing from the reality around him.
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Post by sebastian on Mar 1, 2012 0:11:06 GMT -5
The thought that the libraries were no longer the sanctuary they had been was a distressing one, one that made him want to hurl the nearest projectile (likely the very book he had in his hands, yet another "gift" - also known as a "temporary loan" - from Seff) at the first offending person he came across. Heck, it was getting to the point where the person didn't even have to be offending, as any person would do in his current mental state.
Perhaps that was why, upon reaching new more recent haunt to find someone occupying it, he was so damn unreasonable.
"That's my spot," the ornery Gryffindor snapped before he could stop himself, not even stopping to wonder at or consider the fact that this could very well be a pureblood elitist, one of many. They weren't all Slytherins, after all.
ooc; sorry for the wait and worry this is so bad
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Post by momo on Mar 1, 2012 0:30:47 GMT -5
Rhye was in the middle of a great poem. It was from the book Ophelia had given him for Valentines; all in French. But his nice reading was disrupted when a snappy voice broke straight through both his ears and his patience.
"Pardon?" He sneered in his hearty French accent on accident, looking up to the Gryffindor. His face was familiar, but no name came to mind. "There are plenty of spots, really." He looked around. "But if you insist, I'll scoot." He snapped back, his eyes narrowing slightly. If someone couldn't be respectable to Rhye, Rhye wasn't respectable back.
His finger slipped into his book and he closed it, scooting over around to almost the other side of the tree, snorting. It wasn't just Slytherins who were cocky and rude, apparently they started sharing their traits with Gryffindors. It wouldn't surprise him if the boy was a pure blood, too.
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