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Post by Devin Reed on Jul 27, 2008 9:31:37 GMT -5
The Black Lake had always interested Devin. He never knew how water could be so incredibly dark, like a hole leading into the depths of hell. On nice days a light color contrasted with the dark mirrored the sky, usually a shade of plastic blue. The image of the castle loomed on the surface as well, as if it was a graceful swan drifting across the water. On sunny days when the wind was still the lake was smooth like a stone, no ripples disturbed the surface. It was like black glass. Devin found his eyes drifting from the girl in front of him to take a glance at the lake. Today the picture perfect lakeside view wasn't happening, instead it was blotchy and grey.
A sharp chilly rain flew like blades along with the wind, piercing any open skin when someone left the safety of the building. The skies overhead were a pale grey color, symbolizing a coming rainstorm, and perhaps colder weather, with more wind. The clouds were as grey as a stormy sea, or grey mashed potatoes, as it loomed over like an angry curtain. No sign of sun with the ability to breach the resisting converage. One would think any amount of clouds would be gone within a short time judging how quickly the wind was traveling. It had been raining all week, and though his hopes of a lack of rain on this very day had been crushed, Devin managed to look optimistically upon the situation. As optimistically as he could, anyways, there wasn't much good to cold, or grey, or anything about the weather. But truthfully, he was a bit occupied at the moment.
Not so much occupied as he was distracted. Though he only had his loose school robe around his shoulders to keep him warm, no coat, no sweater, no scarf, just the uniform, he found his mind stray away from the chill. Many a papers were located in his hands, with bent corners and ripped edges, some folded in a way that suggested it hadn't been on purpose as much as it had been uncaring, were being thrown into his bag as best as the task could be done at the moment. While still trying to walk briskly inside, for the potential sicknesses were in the air, Devin shoveled his supplies anywhere it could go to make his job easier. Inside books(harming those as well), the inside pockets, within notebooks with similar pages that meant he would most likely never find them again... That's when he tripped. Over his own shoe. And hit the ground. It took a moment to register what had happened, as once the ground that was just five feet below him was now within an inch of his face.
Fifteen minutes previous to the situation, Devin had been trapped in his dormitory, wondering if it was actually possible to die of boredom. Due to the absense of events occuring at that very moment, he had chosen to deepen his ponderings into a train of thought, and came up with an answer: yes. A dryspell of tasks for the mind could cause one to bash their head upon a table, wall, or any other flat surface, as if it was better than simply waiting around for what was hopefully coming. The unfortunate would continue until a large amount of brain cells had suffered an unneccisary death. With a good portion of deceased brain cells, and the living cells probably attending funerals, one was doomed to suffer from, well, being an idiot. Images of moronic students had filled Devin's mind. Students who stumbled, tripped, and crashed down stairs, some accidentally running into fireplaces or falling on candles. So yes, he had concluded, it was definately possible to die from boredom.
Okay, Devin had stopped himself after he mentally recited the potential death-by-boredom situation once more. I need something to do...before I accidentally walk into a fireplace... Was it just him, or were those walls getting closer together? That settled it, he was going outside before this room became the death of him. Devin had swiped some papers off a flat surface of choice and skimmed them over quickly. Had they been from last year, this year, Charm's class, note from a friend, it didn't matter. All Devin knew was that they were all in his handwriting: chickenscratch. Distinctive 'E's were scattered about the paper in a dark blue color, or were they 'J's? He didn't dare stop to think about it, he could organize them in a moment when he was outside. Like a rocket, Devin fired his way to the front door, never once had he bothered to look at the weather outside...
See where that had gotten him?
Oh, the rain was a terrible thing. In some instances, such as a hot and humid summer afternoon where the clouds stood like soldiers awaiting an order to resemble the air's stillness, rain was wonderful. In his current situation, however, Devin would have to have chosen the hot and humid summer day, where he wouldn't have had nearly as much trouble with those blasted papers. Though a few months previous to the event, it had been a hot and humid summer afternoon, and the boy would have easily preferred the current weather: cold and blustery with hardly any signs of dry ground because of the rain that pounded it into a carpet of slippery grass. It was then that Devin realized just how cold he really was, and how idiotic he had been to brave the weather without any sort of coat. He thought back to his dorm, where both a selection of hooded sweatshirts and Slytherin scarf were laying around in plain view. If only he could turn back time. Hadn't they learned anything about that yet?
He had landed almost flat on his face, having an unplesant close-up view of the ground surrounding the Black Lake. Other than slightly embarrassed, he felt fine. Unfortunately the little tumble he took managed to get the entire front of his body wet, making it seem like he had spilled something, a very large something, on himself during lunchtime. His bag, though lucky enough to salvage his textbooks and the majority of the loose sheets of papers, lay upside down and open. It let a few sheets fly like ghosts escaping in the wind current, probably being wrecked by the rain. All of the others that had still been in his hands had somehow disappeared as well, as if some paper-napper had been in and out without a trace. Oh yes, the rain was indeed a terrible thing.
Although frustrated, and a little embarassed by the klutzy move, Devin had never been one to cry over spilled milk. He simply pushed himself up to a full-heighted standing position of five foot eight. From there the boy proceeded to scan the area with sharp brown eyes, seeing if he could recover any of the 'lost souls'. If he hadn't been so suddenly annoyed with the weather, and himself for choosing to come outside, he may not have just shrugged the situation off. But Dev decided it was more work than it was worth, and there was always another piece of paper and a quill in the common room. On to the next precaution. He glanced around once more, looking for people this time. It was just better if no one saw him fall. [/blockquote][/color]
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Post by Hermione Granger on Jul 27, 2008 10:40:24 GMT -5
A blonde boy had just taken a face-plant. Hermione opened her eyes in shock. and ran over to him. He had already picked himself up and was scanning the area. But he didn't notice her run up and tap him on the shoulder. "Are you okay." She asked as he turned around to face her. He didn't look hurt or shooken up. "Nothings broken, sprained, bruised or scratched right."
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Post by Devin Reed on Jul 27, 2008 12:33:15 GMT -5
So much for finding something worthwhile to do. Even the dormitory was better than this. Devin took one last glance up at the sky, seeing the clouds in even more storming grey fury, hearing the rain hit the ground heavier that it was before, feeling more and more raindrops hit him on the shoulders. It was enough to make him want to scamper and hide under a tree. However, a pleasant, warm common room with chairs and a fireplace as other Slytherins swapped Famous Witches And Wizards cards sounded nice. As well as the great hall with a few students scattered about, studying or playing a game of wizarding chess before the next meal, that sounded pleasant too. Devin would even prefer a dull, dusty library over the great outdoors at this moment. If it weren't for a sudden sound, he wouldn't have hesitated to march back to the castle.
"Are you okay."
A tap on the shoulder caused the boy to whirl around, a bit surprised that he was not infact alone. The voice belonged to an aquaintance of his, maybe. She could've been another girl from his year, they could potentially have a few classes together, and they might have spoken once or twice. Devin could never be sure with his low capacity to match names with faces. Besides, even if he had talked to the girl infront of him it was probably about classwork, or other simple small talk. The potential conversations were a blur, that is, had they happened at all. Sometimes he found it ironic how others had commented on his ingenius ways of solving problems. For fifteen years he had been forgetful, a problem to work on. Fifteen years later, Devin had made no progress. Really he was terrible at matching names with faces, this was no exception. The maybe-familiar girl had bushy brown hair that didn't quite set her apart from others. It was the easiest thing Devin could remember, hair color. It was helpful to have something that didn't mix in with the hundreds of dishwater blondes and auburn brunettes in the world. Unfortunately this didn't help him much. Now a redhead, that would be more memorable.
"Nothings broken, sprained, bruised or scratched right."
"No!" was the instinctive answer, sprung from his vocals by surprise and embarassment. It was usually the answer used when he was dodging trouble, which occured more often than one would believe. The fact that he was a Slytherin, those known for getting in and out of trouble, meant he should be able to think up more creative excuses. Obviously this one was anything but true, which followed the pattern of the other spur-of-the-moment replies he came up with. And thus, he had to correct himself. "Nevermind. I mean..." He paused, what did he mean? She knew what he meant, didn't she? No, she didn't. This cat was falling, and about to land on his back rather than his feet. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." A smile crossed his face as he played it off like no big deal. Devin found it would be much easier to get on his life that way.
Get on with his life? Not yet. At least not now that he took another look at himself. Unorganized, spazzed out, and wet. "I, uh..." he gave a sheepish grin, eyes turning to the ground. "I must look pretty pathetic right about now." Devin let out a small laugh, at least he could swallow his pride and get over it. "I'm Devin," he introduced himself, feeling the need to say something. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing out and about on such a wet day?" He inquired, feeling more like a professor interrogating a rule-breaker who snuck out after hours than a fifth year who was continuing a conversation with a fellow student. [/color][/blockquote]
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Post by Hermione Granger on Jul 28, 2008 9:57:25 GMT -5
Hermione stared strangely at his jumpy answer. Did she know him? Maybe from a class. "I'm Hermione Granger." She said exstending her hand in polite greeting. "And I was just looking for someone. But they don't seem to be here." She took another glance around just in case. She supposed talking to Devin wasn't that bad. So her search could wait awhile.
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Post by Devin Reed on Jul 31, 2008 9:28:01 GMT -5
ooc -- sorry it took so long to reply, I've had a lot of stuff come up lately and I couldn't get on until now.
ic -- So this was Hermioine Granger, the Gryffindor who took every class imaginable and got better grades than the Ravenclaws. Her reputation had spread throughout the school, including across the Slytherin common room. For two reasons really, because she was part of the golden trio of friendship with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, two other students known around the school, and because she excelled greatly at near any feild of magic while at the same time being a muggle-born. Devin, unlike other Slytherins, didn't use the harsh nickname mudblood, as he was one himself. Hermione Granger was no friend of his, and because of the strong house boundries he doubted she ever would be. But she was in the same boat as him when it came to blood status, and therefore he decided he shouldn't be her enemy either.
"Nice to meet you," Devin replied, finding her greeting both courteous and unusual compared to others he had seen. He shook her hand, the official end to an introduction. What more could he say? Maybe now she would know Devin was remotely conversationally-challenged. Once there was a topic he could discuss things with ease, maybe even come up with some witty answers and let his personality flow like he would with someone he had known all his life. But Devin could sit for an hour searching for a discussion topic if he was speaking to someone he had just met. It hadn't occured to him, but was he only like this around girls? It would make sense, he wasn't the only one to lose their cool when speaking to the opposite gender. He would have to test that sometime...
She hadn't responded to his comment about being pathetic, for which he was somewhat glad. Devin had no mirror, but he didn't need one to figure out what he looked like. His hair, probably a shade of brown by now, was plastered to his head with precipitation. Which was a shame, as he preferred to keep it nice. The bag on his shoulder was probably subtracting from both his posture and height. If it wasn't heavy already with unneccisary textbooks and parchments, the water added to its weight. Not to mention his clothing was soaked. Devin felt quite unappealing at the moment, which, naturally reduced his confidence. Although a mirror would have been nice to fix himself up, he would probably cringe at his current appearance.
"And I was just looking for someone. But they don't seem to be here."
"Probably not in this weather," he answered, feeling the need to continue on the conversation. If there was nothing more to say he would have to go back to being bored, in a situation worse than before: he was wet too. "Whoever they are, they're probably inside the castle in someplace dry, in which case I'm a bit jealous." [/blockquote][/color]
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Post by Hermione Granger on Aug 1, 2008 9:48:30 GMT -5
She gigled a tiny bit at his comment on being jealous of her friends warmth and... non-wetness. "Well perhaps we should go inside then?" Hermione asked.
ooc-that's fine. srry my posts r so short. especially this one. i've run out of things to write. and ill transfer this post if u want 2 "go inside". just tell hermione were u want to go and ill move it.(didnt want u 2 come back and wonder where our rp thread went)
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