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Post by Matthew Williams on Mar 28, 2010 18:05:41 GMT -5
Matt chuckles and sits back down. He turns back to his food as Arthur gives the other a talking to, albeit a well deserved one. He looks out over the others and watches the movement in the hall. He liked to be in places like this, loud and happy people, hope and cheerfulness. The Canadian was glad to be back to his old Alam mater, the place he felt most at home.
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Post by Tino Väinämöinen on Mar 28, 2010 18:14:23 GMT -5
Tino had been trying to take care of the gravy on his sleeve; having forgotten the charm to take care of it, he had resorted to using his tongue and ducking to try and make it look like he wasn't licking his sleeve.
He raised his head for long enough to flinch back down as Professor Jones flew by and snatched up the rat Tino hadn't noticed. His eyes followed the professor down to Raivis, a fellow Hufflepuff; he looked very upset. Tino didn't see either of the boy's brothers around, so the Finn got up without falling and crouched next to the younger student.
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Post by Alfred F. Jones on Mar 28, 2010 18:42:57 GMT -5
Al blushed red as his broom proceeded to dump him onto the floor. He'd be the first to admit that he had went too far this year. Well, not necessarily, it wasn't, in the end, the absolute stupidest thing he did at the opening feast. but it was still rather stupid. He'd have to do a formal apology and explanation later. For now he just hung his head, ashamed at forgetting one of the few rules he normally managed to remember.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Mar 28, 2010 19:00:09 GMT -5
Roderich let out a small sigh when Jones leaped onto his broomstick and flew out into the middle of the Hall, causing quite the ruckus from among the students, particularly the first years who seemed to feel the need to stand up to get a better look and to point at their seemingly insane professor. He would never understand the need to have everyone's attention constantly, particularly when the attention was for such disrupting behavior.
Best just to ignore it, he thought. Perhaps if he stops getting so much attention, he'll eventually begin to behave more properly.
Turning his attention to his food, Roderich picked up his utensils and carefully cut the beef into pieces before he began eating it, not wanting to be impolite or to risk making a mess.
When he looked back up briefly a few minutes later he noticed that Jones seemed to be regretting his decision about the broomstick. Good then, Jones seemed to have seen his error. At least with Jones, when he was disruptive and inappropriate, it did not seem to be truly intentional.
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Mar 28, 2010 21:47:30 GMT -5
Francis Bonnefoy was fashionably....
Late.
Again.
Then again that is just one of the habits he had made himself known to be. In fact, being fashionably late became one of his signature habits in this school in which he is extremely proud of. The Frenchman grinned to himself, throwing back the locks of hair that came infront of his face as he "hurried" to the Great Hall in large strides. His robes billowed playfully from behind him as gusts of wind blew at them through the hallowed halls of the school.
La raison un... he has always loved making grand entrances. Makes the students remember him quickly and it saves him the drama and hassle on introductions to the First Years.
La raison duex... it annoys his dear Arthur to the bone and it has been common knowledge that how much it has become a hobby of his.
A mischevious grin formed at his face at the mere imagination of his dear l'Angleterre's face. The sight of an annoyed Arthur really makes his day right.
La raison trois... la raison trois... he'll have to come back with that later.
What was important right now was his grand entrance to the Great Hall. As he approached the elegant twin doors o the said Hall, the Frenchman paused a bit to fix his robes. Reaching in to his pocket, the Frenchman took out a silken ribbon to tie his hair back into a rather elegant ponytail. Quite suited for men with reputations like his.
As he sees himself ready, Francis placed both hand on each door and gave them both one good shove. The sudden creeks of the doors and the startled looks of some student who were unfortunately close to the said doors were like music and art to the Frenchman's ears.
"Bonsoir l'Angleterre!" he greeted lecherously as he strode forward to make his way towards the teachers' table.
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Post by Maria Clara de los Santos on Mar 28, 2010 23:17:51 GMT -5
Maria sighed down on her food, poking the mashed potato served with her fork, a pout crossing on her Malay-Spanish-like features. Whenever she gets whisked off to Europe like this, and far-away from her homeland, she would find herself missing the rice served three time a day on a daily habit. Then again, this could probably be her punishment for wishing that she would be able to stop eating rice for a while.
Then again one would realy get sick of that carbohydrate-induced food especially when eaten day in and day out, three times a day. Oh well, that's life.
A suddenly banging of the doors nearly made the spirit fly out of the girl's very body as she looked at the place where the doors where placed. She was surprised to see a blonde man, the Potions Master stride in with an obnoxious look on his face. Maria rolled her eyes as she thought rather loudly but her voice was enoough to be heard by the people beside her and across, "Monsieur Bonnefoy again. Hay naku.~"
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Ymant Stalte
Prefect[/color]
Līv?mō
the seventh year mudblood. ;D
Posts: 97
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Post by Ymant Stalte on Mar 28, 2010 23:27:42 GMT -5
The little excursion with the rat that Raivis exhibited only made him grimace. Not to mention watching Professor Jones' joy trip with the broom, it all seemed like a bad start to the new year. He couldn't help but smile as the Latvian sat on the floor, watching the other Hufflepuff rush to his aide. That was just like them, to help eachother out. Could no one be self-sufficient these days?
When the door was suddenly opened again, Ymant slightly jumped. He glared at Professor Bonnefoy as he made his way up the hall to the teacher's table, letting out a sigh before returning to his food. And someone actually had the gall to greet him when he was being so inappropriate? Looking over to see who it was, he noticed the girl's scarlet and gold. A Gryffindor, right. Of course. To him, that just spoke sworn enemy.
There wasn't another Slytherin in sight, and he frowned, eating his food quietly.
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Post by Maria Clara de los Santos on Mar 29, 2010 2:21:07 GMT -5
Maria could feel the hairs at the back of her neck standing up as she felt someone staring at her. And the feeling wasn't the nice one in fact. Turning around, her black locks whippin around, Maria scowled to see a Slytherin in his silver and green glory.
"Aba, aba..." she whispered to herself, before turning back to her food.
Certainly picking a fight, most especially with a Slytherin doesn't start the year right, most especially with grades like hers.
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Post by Feliks £ukasiewicz on Mar 29, 2010 3:34:16 GMT -5
The moment he saw his favourite teacher flying gleefully across the hall, a happy and content grin spread across Felik's face. He had always gotten along with the blonde professor-- perhaps it was their shared love of flying through the air, or their penchant for causing mischief, but he had never had a problem feeling comfortable in the man's classes. In fact, when he first started, he progressed further and faster than many students his age did themselves.
It probably helped that he had stolen one of the school's brooms to go flying before the classes had even started... but he had never been found out, the broom had been returned to it's rightful place, and no one had ever been the wiser. The broom was even put back in the same position he had found it, without a single variation in it's lean, angle, placement-- the only thing that changed that night was himself. He had tasted what it was like to fly free, and he had never stopped wanting to taste more of it.
He watched to make sure no one was looking before pulling a tiny clear bottle out of his shoe, and pouring a small amount of the liquid into his glass. He didn't want to drink anything that didn't have somewhat of a punch to it...that was boring, and he was never the type to stomach anything boring.
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Post by ducci on Mar 29, 2010 3:44:47 GMT -5
Thanh didn't want to think of what was going to be in store for her during the new school year. It was going to be a pretty bad year though, if she recalled from her past experiences. She never really had much of a choice to make friendships anyways. Looking around the mess of the Great Hall, she wanted to strangle the next person that bumped into her like an insane child.
Finding a particular Gryffindor student bumping into her, a low, feral growl escaped her as she clasped the child’s neck between her thin, slender digits. “Never, do that again. Got it?” She questioned, her eyes bore into him as he gave a weak nod. Letting the rat go, she turned around to see if she would notice any other Slytherin students within her eyeshot. She was never too fond of seeing anyone at the festivities, but this was probably one of the ones where she actually did show up.
When she noticed Ymant the seventh year mudblood, a smile formed on her face; it was a joy to see him. She was of course being snide, but it wasn’t her alone. She never really liked the mudbloods, thinking that they were in fact freaks. Still, he was the only Slytherin within eyesight.
“Yamant.” She called, frowning as she walked over. “You decided to come back, I see.” She growled softly, trying to sound as polite as possible.
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Mar 29, 2010 3:52:39 GMT -5
If Francis could be considered 'fashionably late', then Gilbert was either some sort of snail with a good excuse, or just stupidly late.
He was sure it was not the former; he'd have noticed the slime. Although he did have excuses!
Why was the albino Professor late to this most important of feasts? Well, there were a hundred different reasons, in his mind at least, and all of them could be correct! It just depended on how lenient and willing to believe his stories Arthur was going to be tonight; he didn't want to look stupid in front of the entire school, after all. The blond had to know this, right? The reality was that Gilbert had simply slept in - he'd passed out again earlier after hanging around the teacher's baths for too long, and had only just woken up, thrown on his clothes, and left the room, hair askew as it tended to be. His hair was always, always a mess. No exceptions. And most of the students didn't know about his tendency to faint when subjected to too much heat -- although many had seen him blind himself before -- and he didn't want them to know either! Maybe Arthur would be understanding.
So he'd stumbled along toward the doors, noticed that they were open, and paused. Hm...this was the first day of the new school year which meant...
New kids.
The Professor grinned widely at that, before the whisper of a spell alighted from his lips, and he allowed his body to shift and warp itself, limbs and mass conforming to a new shape. He doubted anything had sufficiently terrified those First Years beyond belief yet, so of course it was his job to make sure such a thing happened!
With a veritable roar that echoed off the walls of the Great Hall and shook the floating candles, an enormous lion padded past the doors, golden mane fluffed up a little to create an ever more intimidating image. Many of the students shrieked in fright, and Gilbert would've grinned even more had lions been able to grin; oh, this was so much fun. He snapped playfully at a few First Years nearby him, large teeth glistening, before turning attentions to Francis - the Professor had yet to sit, so he decided to play a little, and lumbered after him, growling softly as if stalking his prey. If he didn't move, France was likely going to find himself tackled to the floor and subjected to some humiliating licking, or something.
Who ever said that this school was no fun?
I'm sorry it's so long adfksfk it'll be shorter next time
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Raivis Galante
Hufflepuff Student[/color]
Latvijas Republika
Posts: 189
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Post by Raivis Galante on Mar 29, 2010 3:57:56 GMT -5
Raivis was shaking hard after being made a spectacle of. Although Zhurkas had been returned to him, he was being stared at by a few students, even the Livonian boy who'd picked on him earlier. He didn't even notice Finland's kind hand patting his shoulder until he spoke - which made Raivis start like a frightened rabbit.
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Ymant Stalte
Prefect[/color]
Līv?mō
the seventh year mudblood. ;D
Posts: 97
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Post by Ymant Stalte on Mar 29, 2010 4:18:01 GMT -5
When he heard his name called, the Livonian turned his attention away from the trembling wreck that was Raivis and turned his attention upwards. The Asian girl was wearing a frown, but, thinking back... He couldn't really remember seeing her in particular smile before. Setting down his fork, he waved a hand in front of him to the open seat.
"Of course, Miss Nguyen. Why wouldn't I?" Always he was polite and courtly to women, it was just the way he was brought up. "Would you care to take a seat? How was your summer?" It was a relief to see one of what he considered his own kind around.
It was then that he noticed the transfiguration professor making his way in, since that certainly couldn't have been an actual lion. Herr Beilschmidt, as much as he respected and admired him, was often fond of such trickery he'd come to notice. Listening to the shrieks and watching in amusement at the terrified faces of first years, as the corner of his lips curled into smile, he couldn't help but make a remark.
"Couldn't have turned himself into a serpent, something more respectable?"
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Raivis Galante
Hufflepuff Student[/color]
Latvijas Republika
Posts: 189
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Post by Raivis Galante on Mar 29, 2010 4:20:40 GMT -5
Latvia shrieked as the lion softly padded its way in. He turned into Finland's shoulder to cry, shaking harder and harder until his voice became a muffled, incoherent squeak.
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Mar 29, 2010 4:24:06 GMT -5
[‘Tis okay > w< *loves walls of text*]
Hearing an almost ear-deafening roar just right behind him, something sounded animalistic and out of the ordinary, well for now that is, Francis looked back and the sight alone was enough to make the Frenchman raise his brow in amusement. Behind him he saw a lion, a foot taller than him or something like that, its mane as fluffy as a bird’s. Normally, Francis would’ve screamed like a girl then again, there was something about this lion that was certainly out of the ordinary. Ticking the height away from the list, the Frenchman’s crystal blue eyes peered beyond the fluffy mane and saw bright red ones, almost leaning to the shade of cherry pink. Holding back a chuckle that threatened to come out of him, Francis knew whose eyes those belonged to. He may be a wuss but this man is a very observant one and clearly has a sharp eye. Also, there’s also someone he knew extremely well who would be bold enough to do this kind of game. As expected from him, of course.
Sweeping an elegant hand and flicking his wrist at his loose bangs, he drawled feigning surprise, “Bonsoir Gilbert. I did not know that l’Angleterre allowed beasts to roam around the halls of this school.” A small smirk played on his handsome features as he turned around, a hand on his hip, robes billowing behind him as he walked up to the table to sit on the chair designated to him.
The Frenchman, along his way, caught the English headmaster’s eye. Smiling a bit, he gave the Britton a wink as he finally sat down and graciously devoured with elegance the feast that was laid before them. There was one thing that Francis somehow disliked about his stay in Hogwarts and it was the lack of French cuisine laid out. Somehow, he wished he took the offer of teaching in Beauxbaton to save him the heartache of leaving his home country then again, in a way; his work here gives him ample opportunity to terrorize his favourite Briton all day. And that was something Beauxbaton cannot give him indeed.
Picking up his fork, he speared at the boiled and steaming potato nearby and placed it on his plate. It was followed shortly by a few slices of meat, namely roast beef, bringing an amused smirk on Francis’ lips since he ‘tenderly’ calls Arthur “roast beef” much to the man’s chagrin, and some vegetables. He was pleased though that wine was served near to him and did not waste any time pouring him a glass and taking a sip from it.
Fresh wine from the vineyards of France.
How delicious it was.
Much more that it was paired with the roast beef! Pretty soon Francis found himself eating his heart out and realizing how hungry he was. “Merdé...”
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Post by randumlee on Mar 29, 2010 4:24:29 GMT -5
“And this, my children, is why you come to my classes.” The man stated, putting his wand away. He loved showing little excerpts of his class. It was just another way to ensure that his students would show up, instead of skipping his classes. Granted, Defence Against the Dark Arts was never the most fun class, but it was a required class.
Once the students cleared, the professor grinned, walking away. Sure, he was away from most of the others, especially the headmaster—and that was only in working terms—but he knew when he was treading on thin ice. Too bad he didn’t pay much attention to it. For instance, he knew that he was supposed to wear a robe, but he disregarded that and came topless. Why? It was simply more comfortable than anything. Screw the headmaster if he got in trouble. Lacedaemon had a feeling that the problem with Arthur was that he didn’t have the abs to show off—not that the professor was aiming to show off or anything.
As he headed to the teacher’s table, he heard a roar, only to find a lion scaring the first years. “Gilbert, will you ever grow up?” Sparta shook his head in silence, chuckling softly as he continued to walk towards the table.
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Post by ducci on Mar 29, 2010 4:57:39 GMT -5
“Even a snake would not help him gain respect… Even if he was once one of us.” She stated, looking over at their Transfiguration professor. It appeared that he was more into cooking hijinks than to actually learn at the school anyways. Through Thanh’s eyes, the professor wasn’t worthy of any respect at all.
Thanh still had an angered expression on her face, but sat down nonetheless. When he poked at her about her summer, the Vietnamese’s face turned duller. “Dreadful.” She stated curtly. She would ask him about his own summer, but what was the point in asking at all. It wasn’t like she cared much about the other’s break. But it would make her seem somewhat considerate. “How was yours?” She inquired, but quickly zoned out to think about the school year ahead of her. Just because she asked him a question, it really didn’t mean that she was supposed to listen to him, correct? If he wanted to talk, then maybe it would’ve been a better choice to talk to someone else.
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Post by Gilbert Beilschmidt on Mar 29, 2010 5:20:24 GMT -5
((ooc: ohgod it got even bigger IT'LL BE SMALLER NEXT TIME, PROMISE. Maybe. Uh but yeah in case it's confusing he basically turned from a spell-created lion into a spell-created naked self, and then created fake robes while he let his body go back to normal underneath, and...got rid of all the spells. So yeah uh. That's confusing aaah..;;;)
The lion padded closer to Francis, would've been amused by a certain Hufflepuff's reaction to his entrance, but was too busy focusing on the other Professor, who didn't seem to be willing to play his game. Scarlet eyes stared into azure, glittering with a smirk that, while not present upon the lion's features -- as such a thing was impossible -- would be gracing Gilbert's lips were he in his usual form. He snorted, amused, at the Frenchman's words, body quickly shrinking and elongating, the albino apparently returning to himself and speaking in a playful tone;
"Oh, is that so? And yet he allows you to show your lecherous face? Huh."
Perhaps he was revealing a little too much, though, as inch upon inch of pallid skin was revealed in the moulting of golden fur which, after twirling down to land gently on the flagstone floor, faded into nothing, revealing that the lion had been a simple spell - except it wasn't so simple, but still. Once the mane had been shaken off and had disappeared into the surrounding air, glimmering softly, those present in the Great Hall would lay eyes upon the lithe, slim and almost unnaturally perfect frame of their Transfigurations Professor, stood quite naked before the teacher's table, back turned to the students. He heard a wolf-whistle from one of the tables behind, and snickered.
The effect wouldn't be quite so stunning to those who'd actually seen him clothless before, though - it was likely some would see through the albino's second trick of the night. Truly, his body, while beautiful, was not flawless at all, pale skin covered in recessed whip marks and scarring which stood out in glorious recognition of battles fought in the past - fights both won and lost. But Gilbert'd doubted the students would know this so he'd decided to mess around a bit more.
"But lions are bigger and scarier, unless you'd rather I turn myself into a basilisk~" he called to the Slytherin who'd spoken a few moments ago, glancing over his shoulder at him and grinning that ever-manic grin. "A basilisk...man, that would've scared them even more..I should've!"
With that, the male spun about, eliciting a few soft gasps from a few of the females nearby as they realised they were about to see something even better than the Professor's rear end--
"I don't think so~"
--and were sorely disappointed. As if pulling the very shadows from the room and weaving them into a garment, Gilbert quickly covered up his 'body' with a spell-crafted robe identical to his own, and then allowed all magic to fade for the time being, feeling his scars beneath his actual clothing again. If one looked closely enough, they'd see one of the marks on his neck flickering back into view, perhaps making it obvious that his earlier nudity had been a trick - but most, he was sure, would not notice. "I am grown up, Lacey~!" the male laughed as he bounded up toward his seat, clearly finished with his trickery for now.
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Ymant Stalte
Prefect[/color]
Līv?mō
the seventh year mudblood. ;D
Posts: 97
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Post by Ymant Stalte on Mar 29, 2010 5:49:25 GMT -5
"What are you talking about?" Ymant was a bit taken aback, looking past the girl still to watch as Professor Bonnefoy and Sparta both exchanged remarks with the Transfiguration teacher. Tilting his head to get a better look, he smiled, not out of schadenfreude this time but admiration. "He's more worthy of respect than anyone else who has walked through those doors, ever." If it was any other person acting how most might see as even obnoxious--take Professor Jones for example--he'd feel the same way. But he couldn't think of anything bad about the albino.
Glancing at the Vietnamese girl as he sat down, his expression changed to a quizzical one. Why did she simply look as if nothing ever had, nor ever would give her joy in life again? "...Oh. Sorry to hear that." Grabbing his drink, he took a sip before setting it back down. "Nothing special. Why do you look so... sour, though?" It never hurts to ask, the Livonian thought, moving the food around on his plate in an idle fashion. When the wolf whistle rang through the room, he looked back up, eyes immediately widening in disbelief.
Shouldn't he be past the stage of fantasizing in the middle of what could create socially awkward situations?
Eyes wide, his face was beet-red as the Professor addressed him. On reflex, his took to his feet. "Y-yes! There's a-always next year though, Herr Beilschmidt!" Shocked and in disbelief, realizing it must not be a dream then... He stayed standing. Not to get a better look, no, of course not... ...It was worth a try, though. He began to cough into his hand, turning slightly away from the table, pretending as if that wasn't the exact occasion, only to be one of those verily disappointed when the man became clothed again. Bowing his head before finishing his fake coughing fit, he sat back down, silent and red still.
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Post by randumlee on Mar 29, 2010 5:54:37 GMT -5
Lacedaemon kept a smile on his face throughout the show. It was amusing to see the students’ reaction, but when Gilbert stepped out of line, Mr. Smiles didn’t stay for too long. “What did you call me, Gilly?” Lacedaemon asked; a smile still plastered on his face, though by now its falseness had shown through the mask he had tried so dearly to keep on. Too bad Gilbert went off with calling him Lacey. No one—not even the head of the ministry of magic—would be able to call him Lacey and get away with it; no one at all.
Letting out a Cheshire cat’s smile, the male stepped over to Gilbert’s seat, hovering over the albino. “You didn’t call me what I thought you called me, right?” He questioned, eyes opening to show the wild look within them. It was amazing that he got the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, considering what he could do to the... Wonderful students that wreaked havoc on the school annually. He had a feeling that the headmaster was a little bad in the head, but he wouldn’t think too much about it.
“You know, Mr. Beilschmidt, I used to know a man that called me Lacey… Would you like to find out what happened to him?” He questioned, holding the other man’s shoulder in a tight grip. “It would be a great joy that you would be willing to learn the consequences, yes?” He still smiled. “Because if I do recall, they did not find the man who used that name on me… I wonder what ever became of him…” Sparta stated softly, patting the albino with one hand while his grip stayed on the other’s shoulder, a devilish glint in his eye as he gave a predatory look to the smaller man.
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