Post by Forgoil Halifirien on Aug 1, 2007 12:10:31 GMT -5
It had been a rough night, and it wasn't just some rough around the edges sort of night, but a really rough night. Frog and Protege had gone out to the Triangle Tunnel, with Rawnblade the Badger accompanying them, and they hit up the nightlife. They did so because they were celebrating the beginning of the last year at school and to get away from some of the more...shall we say, hectic, duties that a Prefect must carry out. The short of it was that since they were both of age, the two young men went out drinking and got smashed. So much so that they were kicked out of 3 establishments returning back to the University. Naturally they had been heart broken, so to easy the pain: they brough refreshments back with them.
They arrived back at the school at around 4 in the morning: now it was almost time for the rest of the teachers and students to come down for breakfast in the Feasting Hall. However, the newcomers would be in quite a shocker: the table where the students sat were spotless. The table at the head of the room, solely reserved for the Headmaster and his professors, had been essentially turned into a pub. Frog Halifirien was sprawled out in what had appeared to be the chair belonging to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as it was richly engraved with various monsters and symbols. His grey-hair was very toussled and his feet were on the table. In his right hand was a bottle of Corona, half empty...or was it half full? It didn't really matter to him right now.
Two chairs to his right was Protege: no telling what state he was in right now. However the master of festivities had plopped himself into the Headmaster's chair and looked quite at home. Wearing Forgoil's skipper cap on his head (Frog couldn't remember how it had gotten there) and nursing a bottle of Guiness, was Rawnblade the Badger. Sleepy eyed and hiccuping every so often, the Badger seemed very content with the affairs of the previous night. As he looked at the stash that he and Protege had brought back, the grey-haired Prefect was pleased to note there were still plenty of drinks left. And since Protege and himself were such nice blokes, and awesome Prefects for that matter, they had made it a point to place 5 cases of butter beer (non alcoholic so that the Professors wouldn't murder them) at each house's table.
Hiccuping briefly, Halifirien looked over at Protege (man was he blurry) and managed to say in his now-heavy Scottish brogue, "Ack Laddie. Do ya think we've gotten enough for everybody? I mean ta say if they come after our stash, the Professor's will likely be very...hrmm...what's that word again. Discon-HIC-sorted?"
ooc: First post for Protege and then open to all. Enjoy people!
They arrived back at the school at around 4 in the morning: now it was almost time for the rest of the teachers and students to come down for breakfast in the Feasting Hall. However, the newcomers would be in quite a shocker: the table where the students sat were spotless. The table at the head of the room, solely reserved for the Headmaster and his professors, had been essentially turned into a pub. Frog Halifirien was sprawled out in what had appeared to be the chair belonging to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as it was richly engraved with various monsters and symbols. His grey-hair was very toussled and his feet were on the table. In his right hand was a bottle of Corona, half empty...or was it half full? It didn't really matter to him right now.
Two chairs to his right was Protege: no telling what state he was in right now. However the master of festivities had plopped himself into the Headmaster's chair and looked quite at home. Wearing Forgoil's skipper cap on his head (Frog couldn't remember how it had gotten there) and nursing a bottle of Guiness, was Rawnblade the Badger. Sleepy eyed and hiccuping every so often, the Badger seemed very content with the affairs of the previous night. As he looked at the stash that he and Protege had brought back, the grey-haired Prefect was pleased to note there were still plenty of drinks left. And since Protege and himself were such nice blokes, and awesome Prefects for that matter, they had made it a point to place 5 cases of butter beer (non alcoholic so that the Professors wouldn't murder them) at each house's table.
Hiccuping briefly, Halifirien looked over at Protege (man was he blurry) and managed to say in his now-heavy Scottish brogue, "Ack Laddie. Do ya think we've gotten enough for everybody? I mean ta say if they come after our stash, the Professor's will likely be very...hrmm...what's that word again. Discon-HIC-sorted?"
ooc: First post for Protege and then open to all. Enjoy people!