Post by Thomas Lucre on Sept 7, 2007 14:06:56 GMT -5
It was after Charms class had finished for the day. The cafeteria was a lovely and well furnished place, with tables stretching far down the chamber and hundreds of cushioned seats to fit them. The curtains were oft drawn to block out the sunlight so that the chandelier and myriad of dancing candles above would better accentuate the mood of meal time.
Sliding his tray down the tray railing of the lunch line, Lucre of Slytherine took in the many dishes of both the muggle and wizarding worlds and fit them as tightly and neatly on his platter as possible. Mostly fried catfish and mashed potatoes a la Furrs, this wizard had a simple palate for restoring the energy he had invested in classes thus far. It was funny, Lucre was often seen as a heavy thinker, not giving much time to his studies and it was probably part of the reason he didn't make many friends in the past. That and the fact people usually had trouble looking at his stark black eyes. At least, most of the part, anyway.
Taking his tray to find a seat, Lucre's gaze trailed down to the note still protruding from his breast pocket. His cheeks became flushed slightly as he remembered what Miss Pendragon wrote about his eyes. That was often the reason why he was always ridiculed in school when he was little, so maybe it was more of an excuse for him to skip classes after a while. No one really seemed too freaked out about it though, at least not here. He found that he had several intelligent conversations with a lot of bright students that he thoroughly enjoyed the company of.
Casting his gaze across the tables, Lucre pondered where the Ravenclaw prefect was, if she had even arrived at the cafeteria yet. He was fine with getting a seat wherever it was available, though. He wanted to make as many friends as he could, even if they probably weren't meant to be kept for too long.
Sliding his tray down the tray railing of the lunch line, Lucre of Slytherine took in the many dishes of both the muggle and wizarding worlds and fit them as tightly and neatly on his platter as possible. Mostly fried catfish and mashed potatoes a la Furrs, this wizard had a simple palate for restoring the energy he had invested in classes thus far. It was funny, Lucre was often seen as a heavy thinker, not giving much time to his studies and it was probably part of the reason he didn't make many friends in the past. That and the fact people usually had trouble looking at his stark black eyes. At least, most of the part, anyway.
Taking his tray to find a seat, Lucre's gaze trailed down to the note still protruding from his breast pocket. His cheeks became flushed slightly as he remembered what Miss Pendragon wrote about his eyes. That was often the reason why he was always ridiculed in school when he was little, so maybe it was more of an excuse for him to skip classes after a while. No one really seemed too freaked out about it though, at least not here. He found that he had several intelligent conversations with a lot of bright students that he thoroughly enjoyed the company of.
Casting his gaze across the tables, Lucre pondered where the Ravenclaw prefect was, if she had even arrived at the cafeteria yet. He was fine with getting a seat wherever it was available, though. He wanted to make as many friends as he could, even if they probably weren't meant to be kept for too long.