SnitchSeeker.com - View Single Post

Polychromatic · 01-06-2016, 04:19 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Felixir

Daxton had been expecting something like this. Last year, on this same date in fact, there had been that strange house activity in the common room, all based around food and working together and the like. He had been quite eager to ditch the proceedings, and so he had.

Tonight, he entered the common room from the staircase that led to the dormitories. He had not gone to dinner, for his own reasons, just as he had not gone to the feast the night before for similar reasons (though the latter may also have had something to do with the food fight he had been fully aware would break out, and his wanting to be nowhere near it), which meant that the likelihood he had missed out on some key information about what was happening tonight was fairly high. Fact was, there were people gathered all around the room, and a chest in the middle of it all.

Daxton stared, first at the tchest, then at the prefect nearby handing out tickets of some kind, then at his head of house. He could just turn around and go straight back upstairs, if he had not been absolutely certain that that would likely call almost as much attention to himself as it had last year. In any case, he was curious about the chest, and those tickets... but he was not joining in the cozy little circle either. And he was not the only student to think that way, apparently. Across the room, he could see someone - someone he had met, actually, a year and a half earlier before either of them were at Hogwarts - had had a similar idea.

After a moment's consideration, Daxton stepped off the last step of the staircase and into the room, but not to get a ticket or to join the convocation of Ravenclaws. Stopping by a bookcase, he retrieved a book, then grabbed one of the still-empty armchairs and dragged it back out of the circle and next to one of the windows. Still ignoring everyone else, Daxton dropped into the armchair, sitting sideways with his legs draped over one arm, opened up the book and started to pretend to read whilst staying very much alert to his surroundings.

He was here, listening and paying attention to what was going on (under the guise of using the common room as a reading spot, as he was well within his rights to do regardless of whatever else was going on), but to all extents and purposes, not a part of anything. Away from people, away from noise, away from potential disorder.

Alone. Exactly the way he liked to operate.

The affected disinterest of the older boy did not escape Lex's attention, who himself preferred to take a more distant, observational role. The particular position of his own armchair was such that he had to turn sideways in his seat to get a good view of Daxton, but once the ideal position was achieved, it was fairly simple to maintain a visual.

Lex wasn't totally sure what it was about this particular student - was it that he was older, and therefore inherently worthy of admiration? Was it that he was comfortably, if distantly, at home in this strange environment, the surface of which Lex knew he'd only scratched? Or was it his preference to read rather than socialize, finding it sufficient to only occasionally steal a glance at the goings-on around him?

The potential similarity to his own mentality was nothing short of intriguing, and Lex became so enthralled by his speculation that it never occurred to him that he was staring, and fairly obviously at that.

01-06-2016, 04:19 AM	#35 (permalink)
Polychromatic Bundimun Join Date: Dec 2015 Posts: 31 Hogwarts RPG Name: Alexander "Lex" Montague First Year	Daxton Quote: Originally Posted by Felixir Daxton had been expecting something like this. Last year, on this same date in fact, there had been that strange house activity in the common room, all based around food and working together and the like. He had been quite eager to ditch the proceedings, and so he had. Tonight, he entered the common room from the staircase that led to the dormitories. He had not gone to dinner, for his own reasons, just as he had not gone to the feast the night before for similar reasons (though the latter may also have had something to do with the food fight he had been fully aware would break out, and his wanting to be nowhere near it), which meant that the likelihood he had missed out on some key information about what was happening tonight was fairly high. Fact was, there were people gathered all around the room, and a chest in the middle of it all. Daxton stared, first at the tchest, then at the prefect nearby handing out tickets of some kind, then at his head of house. He could just turn around and go straight back upstairs, if he had not been absolutely certain that that would likely call almost as much attention to himself as it had last year. In any case, he was curious about the chest, and those tickets... but he was not joining in the cozy little circle either. And he was not the only student to think that way, apparently. Across the room, he could see someone - someone he had met, actually, a year and a half earlier before either of them were at Hogwarts - had had a similar idea. After a moment's consideration, Daxton stepped off the last step of the staircase and into the room, but not to get a ticket or to join the convocation of Ravenclaws. Stopping by a bookcase, he retrieved a book, then grabbed one of the still-empty armchairs and dragged it back out of the circle and next to one of the windows. Still ignoring everyone else, Daxton dropped into the armchair, sitting sideways with his legs draped over one arm, opened up the book and started to pretend to read whilst staying very much alert to his surroundings. He was here, listening and paying attention to what was going on (under the guise of using the common room as a reading spot, as he was well within his rights to do regardless of whatever else was going on), but to all extents and purposes, not a part of anything. Away from people, away from noise, away from potential disorder. Alone. Exactly the way he liked to operate. The affected disinterest of the older boy did not escape Lex's attention, who himself preferred to take a more distant, observational role. The particular position of his own armchair was such that he had to turn sideways in his seat to get a good view of Daxton, but once the ideal position was achieved, it was fairly simple to maintain a visual. Lex wasn't totally sure what it was about this particular student - was it that he was older, and therefore inherently worthy of admiration? Was it that he was comfortably, if distantly, at home in this strange environment, the surface of which Lex knew he'd only scratched? Or was it his preference to read rather than socialize, finding it sufficient to only occasionally steal a glance at the goings-on around him? The potential similarity to his own mentality was nothing short of intriguing, and Lex became so enthralled by his speculation that it never occurred to him that he was staring, and fairly obviously at that.