Post by Thomas Lucre on Sept 27, 2007 14:55:44 GMT -5
So early in the morning, it was as if even the tapestries were still for once. Well, 8 AM was early anyway, for a certain bushy-tailed(almost literally) blonde by the name of Thomas Lucre. He usually never rolled out of bed for class until 9 or 10, and he'd spend the morning straightening his hair and ironing his fabrics. Since he had to begin this day anew on a more pre-emptive level, however, he settled for snagging an extra suit he hadn't worn yet and resolved to double up on the ironing later.
A pair of wiry frames rested halfway down the bridge of his nose, and his shale irises held a lack-luster glare from the morning candles that illuminated the room with fragrance and flickering light. He had picked a solitary round table at the end of the Slytherin row, which usually spent the entire day not having an absence of students in its seats. But for this morning, it would merely seat one. Maybe two, if the blonde boy's date wasn't bent on keeping him waiting too long. He was rather impatient with dates, especially first ones. Then again, if this meeting was still on campus, could it technically be deemed a date? He had gone down this road, about a week or so ago. He supposed he should just relax, they probably wouldn't even take that long. Lucre had to admit that pancakes were sounding awfully tasty right about now. But the anticipation of breakfast pastries was not the reason for him losing grogginess.
Dawn came quickly. Lurielle awoke just a moment before her alarm clock sounded. She stepped from the warm sheets to the cold wooden floor and shivered. She hated not having plush rugs like the ones that blanketed every floor in her home with detailed weaves from India, or the pelts of the game her father and uncles would hunt in winter and early spring. Despite the inconveniences that arose around every corner of the school, she liked living there. Classes were challenging and she had met Lucre.
A smile imparted her lips as she stretched her arms high above her curly head. The night before had seemed like a dream, but she was thankful it wasn't. They had decided to meet this very morning in order to further discuss one another. Lurielle was usually the type to only be concerned with herself, but today she was anxious to hear from Lucre, but first...
"What am I going to wear!? It has to be stunning, shocking, just plain magical! Gold, no, red! Print or solid?"
Luri sprang from her bed rummaged through the various articles of clothing in a nearby trunk. Shirts, pants, skirts, hats, socks, and underwear went flying this way and that as she searched for an appropriate outfit for the occasion. She had a white mink stole that she immediately wrapped around her neck and a crimson, satin dress that flared at the hemline just above her ankles. Perfect.
Lurielle combed and styled every curl, polished both heels, and made sure the satin gown was free of any lint or stains before she sauntered out of the dormitory and through the corridors to the feasting hall. Everyone turned to gawk and remark on how flamboyantly she was dressed. She smiled that celebrity smile, swished her stole, and acted as if such garb was common place. Before she entered the feasting hall she glazed her lips with lipstick and checked her pocket compact one last time. Pressing her palms to the great, wooden door, she pushed it open and entered, eyes glimmering in anticipation, hoping Lucre would see her and call out to her.
Last Edit: Sept 28, 2007 12:54:23 GMT -5 by Lurielle
Post by Thomas Lucre on Sept 27, 2007 15:50:53 GMT -5
Something began reflecting a red light in the room. Who knows, maybe it was -giving off- this fabled light. Might have been a giant fire fly, or something. Lucre couldn't exactly tell since his grogginess was beginning to sink back in while he felt himself submerge into the impossibly comfy seats that surrounded the round table. He squinted and readjusted his glasses (more for occasional casual wear than neccessity) and a sleepy smile formed. Slytherin's glamor star had arrived at last. Well good, it was only about 8:25, he still had quite a bit of time to spend with this heavenly image.
Lucre rose from his seat and waved with slow emphaticism, hoping to catch her attention. He had to remember to keep his posture straight, though that was scarcely a problem for him when he was around any girl. Lurielle, of course, had a way of making him re-evaluate how effective his overall presentation was, and he hoped that this early hour would not betray unto his glistening female company, any glaring or unattractive character flaws on his part. Lucre could see the swivel in her rehearsed steps that even though she wanted to keep the appearance of a celebrity, she was actually pretty excited to meet him. Grinning at this, Lucre's lips parted to speak as she neared him.
"Well, its not every day I wait for dessert to arrive before the main course. You look beautiful, Lurielle Wington." As he spoke, he rounded about to the seat next to him, pulling it out for Lurielle to claim as her seat.
Post by Morgan Pendragon on Sept 28, 2007 10:18:23 GMT -5
Morgan, ever the early riser, had made her way down to the feasting hall at about twenty past eight. Her platinum hair was shining with a metallic gleam, and was elegantly plaited into two twin cords reaching down her back. She was slightly more dressed up than usual in a light pink, sleeveless sun dress, and she'd even put on the barest little bit of make-up. Just some mascara, lip gloss, and a tiny bit of blush, but it enhanced her features just right. She took a deep breath and entered. She had a plan.
She spotted her reason for dressing up so almost immediately. He was at the end of the Slytherin row, all alone. Is he waiting for somebody? Maybe I shouldn't bother him. It's probably a stupid idea anyway, she thought, mired in self-doubt as she slipped into the early morning shadows, straining not to be seen. She felt so stupid. She glanced at the paper in her hands, it was stupid to give him a note for something like this, wasn't it? She'd taken the trouble to get primped and polished, and now she was chickening out. No, this would never do. She'd have to make herself go over there and do what she'd come here to do. Another deep breath to steel her courage and then...
Just as she was about to cross to where Lucre sat, the doors of the hall opened yet again, this time admitting a dazzling girl in a satin evening gown and a snowy white mink stole. Her hair was similar in color to Morgan's own, though hers was curled. Then, Morgan's worst fears were made reality. This girl, this goddes in red was who he was waiting for. Her amber eyes grew wide in outrage and torment as she realized that this must truly be his girlfriend. Of course. Only one so lovely as this was equal to a guy like Lucre.
Her heart broke into a thousand pieces, the same way it had with Mury. God! Why was she always attracted to unavailable men? Morgan watched half in agony, half in fury, as he escorted the goddes to the table and pulled out her chair. She had to make her move now. It wasn't like she could slink out of here unseen, although perhaps now that he had his goddess, he wouldn't be noticing anyone especially not a plain girl like her.
She walked slowly over to their table, back ram-rod straight, countenance even, positively dripping with coolness, poise, confidence, and composure. The only break at all in her show of complete digninty was as she glared at the goddess, however, her hateful gaze did not rest on the girl long. It was merely a flicker. Mostly, her amber eyes shone soley on Lucre. "I hate you," she stated conversationally to Lucre as she swung her hand to collide with his face. "You, Thomas Lucre, are a scum-sucking bastard." Once again, her tone was even, as though she were asking about the time or the weather. She longed to rush out of the hall and into some kinder part of the school in which to shed her tears, but dared not show weakness in this moment.
((please note that the misspellings are due to the word filter.))
Post by Cedrella Kelly on Oct 1, 2007 1:00:24 GMT -5
ooc: ooh! SNAP! I can't help but want to make this situation even a little more awkward.
Breakfast! Her favourite meal of the day; along with second breakfast, brunch, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, dessert, light after-dinner snack and midnight snack. Dressed in her simple earth brown singlet, flared jeans and runners, Cedrella decided that she would take the cute little salamander she had befriended in the common room down for some breakfast. She'd heard that they enjoyed anything peppery, so wondering whether it would work, the Hufflepuff girl was bringing the fire lizard down to the feasting hall, to coat something in pepper paste for it to eat. Her hair was down and wavey, hardly caring to do anything with it, let alone the rest of her appearance, but she silently cursed that idea when she opened the door. On the Slytherin ring of tables was Lucre, a boy from a few of her classes.
Sure, she hated how he didn't notice her when she addressed him in Care of Magical Creatures, but there was a twinkle in his eye when he noticed her in Duelling. A twinkle she couldn't help but like. Debating whether or not to go up and speak to him once she'd made it to the Hufflepuff tables, her attention caught his switched gaze as he watched someone else enter. A pretty girl, dressed much like him (evening wear in the morning?), with brilliant blond hair. An awkward feeling slipped like ice into her gut. There went making a friend. So far, she had none, and it had been a good week since she'd arrived at the school. She watched him intently pulling out her chair. But just as she was going to place the salamander onto the table where the fireproof mat was, another girl that she had only just noticed stepped on light feet to the pair, and Cedrella realised that she was watching them, just like the Hufflepuff.
SMACK! Cedrella's eyes widened, listening in. So was the rest of the hall. The girl with light hair slapped Lucre, and called him a dirty name, her eyes shining with fury that her body didn't dare show. What on earth was going on there? Perplexed, the girl with the green hair turned to the stinging feeling in her hand. Placing the Salamander onto the table, it froze just as she had done. It was so hard to coat a muffin in pepper paste when one was listening and watching something else. It was none of her business, really, and she had heard of many girls being irate and over-doing things. Maybe he didn't deserve that slap. Maybe he did. Silently she wondered if it would effect how she'd act around him. It looked like he'd offended the second girl, by being with the first.
Weird didn't come close to defining the situation, along with how she was feeling, being present in it and all. "S'all righ'," she said to the Salamander, eyeing the soaked muffin. "Y' can ea' it, y'know."
Post by Thomas Lucre on Oct 1, 2007 9:57:20 GMT -5
(OOC) Heh, well if you can handle crazy, then step right up. I'm sure this'll be interesting.
(BIC) "Oh hey Morgan, it's-" Lucre had only noticed the Prefect in that short span of space as she stepped up and greeted him hard with the palm of her hand. The resounding sharp sound seemed to slow time down and an echo could almost be heard reverberating through the space that was the feasting hall. And in that short amount of time that the recoil twisted his upper body, the fully awakened (and perplexed, and bewildered) slytherin blonde took that chance to deliberate on a thing or two. He also somehow managed to catch sight of the sea-foam-haired, muggle-dressed maiden from his dueling class. While he normally would smile and wave and invite her to eat with him, now just was not the time to be friendly. He had a few things to sort out, and it needed sorting fast.
Did I......miss something here?
Lucre reviewed the facts. Morgan likely had a greater reason for delivering a pride-obliterating bitch-slap to Lucre's face aside from assisting him in your average wake-up call. And her harsh words to follow...... lords, it was as if she were some angered lover that he'd done something wicked onto. But that was crazy, right? I mean, well.....actually, Morgan looked rather impeccable right then. Pretty in pink, the girl looked like she was waiting to go to the lake for an afternoon picnic date. Well that's fine, he was sure the guy going with her would look forward to it, but then her display within the last few nanoseconds would not match up if she were dressed for a rendezvous with some other beau.
Well, that cleared one thing up. This was definitely a scorn slap from a maiden he had wronged. But another thing that popped up was, how was this Lucre's fault? He didn't try to sneak around or hide anything from Morgan. The other day they had sat right at the feasting table to the left, laughing about how he was such a fiend in employing the help of his charming hermit crabs to draw girls to him more. She knew his inclinations with his opposite gender, and accepted him as he was. That was what really made so little sense, was that she went and lashed out at him, despite knowing that being in a girl's company was second-nature to him. Did she really like him in that way?
It was not that Lucre was intent on being dishonest. Morgan was the first true friend he'd made since arriving. Maybe it made it seem okay for Lucre to not hide his true nature from her. He wanted to ask her out, but he never knew she was actually interested in him. I mean, she -knew- him for what kind of guy he was, for heaven's sakes! Why would she want to give her heart to a guy whom she could tell took so little care in handling them? Oi, kids these days. Lucre's habits were starting to become exhausting even for his own liking. Having strong feelings for more than one girl is a dangerous precipice that no guy should traverse, but it seemed he was already in too deep.
Six-point-three seconds after impact. Lucre was almost surprised that Lurie had not said or done anything yet. His head returned to its normal facing, staring at the beautiful and angered Morgan before him. His glasses were rendered crooked in the impact of her hand to his face (hell of a first-time caress from her hand) and he casually straightened it back out upon the bridge of his nose.
"Indeed, it's a fact of life, that you should know better than anyone else." his expression was placid and trying so hard to understand how she of all people could develop any feelings for him outside of mere friendship. Did she not realize that feeling this way for someone like Lucre would only get her hurt? His hand slipped into his pocket, unearthing another folding-origami-parchment. His wand came next, and with a simple flick he had learned in Transfiguration class, had scribbled a quick note. Another flick had folded it into a little man-figure in his palm, and it jumped out towards Morgan, hoping it would find her hand. It had read:
Morgan, we seem to have a bit of a misunderstanding. I did not tell you of my feelings because you're much different from anyone else. That does not mean I don't have feelings for you, too. By the way, you look wonderful today.
L
"Who else," Lucre continued as he brought a reserved hand upon Morgan's shoulder. He made a rather quick recovery, and hoped that Morgan would follow along. They indeed had a lot to talk about, but here was not the time or place. "would forget that he had a meeting with another beauty at the same time and place? We should all enjoy this breakfast together." Lucre stood in front of his seat and pulled it out for Morgan. He would find the third one and take his seat shortly, but first he had to see whether Morgan would accept or merely brush him off with another slap.
Stifling laughter a first, Lurielle had observed everything through those shimmering blue eyes of hers. This prefect girl obviously had feelings for Lucre, as did almost half the girls in the school. The cruel slap and harsh words had put some sense into Lucre, it seemed, for he immediately directed all his attention and efforts to making this Morgan forgive him. It was apparent that the two had alot of talking and making up to do if they were to continue being friends or a couple. Lurielle's heart sank. The heaviness in her chest was one she had felt many times, and knew the antidote for.
I'm a fool.
Suddenly the dazzling red gown and mink stole didn't seem so light on her slender body. It was stigma that when all to well with her past dealings with the male gender. The air in her lungs seemed hot and uncomfortable as she stood there silently, reeling in thought. Lucre and Lurielle's relationship was young and not near as close as his with Morgan. Perhaps it was all just lust between Luri and Lucre. The best thing was to leave, perhaps letting everything and everyone cool down for awhile. Usually, she'd get a thrill out of such dramatics, but today, the mood didn't strike her. Besides, skipping breakfast would definitely keep her figure in check.
"Well, I do believe I've made an error in scheduling. I forgot I have an appointment at the library so I'll have to skip out on breakfast. I'll catch up with you later about my request, Lucre. I apologize for aggravating things, good day."
Her voice uncommonly shallow, and meek. Her curly head drooped as she spun on heel and evaporated from sight. It wasn't her role to play the defeated. It stung like a fresh burn wound, and it wasn't pretty. Morgan misunderstood this meeting, but it didn't matter now. Lurielle had her fill of fighting over men. Men she was not sure were worth it. Coralie was right, there were more important things to focus on.
Last Edit: Oct 1, 2007 13:15:05 GMT -5 by Lurielle
Post by Morgan Pendragon on Oct 1, 2007 13:35:49 GMT -5
You know, he never actually gave you any indication that you were more than a friend to him.
Oh, what had Morgan done? She usually wasn't prone to making scenes like this. Usually, if something like this had happened, she would have sulked about it in the library for a couple of hours, continued to treat Lucre as a friend, and tried to forget about the fact that she wanted something more than friendship. Morgan Pendragon didn't have emotional outbursts. Over guys. In public.
Her pale skin deepened in color to match her dress. Her anger and hurt were brushed away by the dustpan and broom of rationality and embarrassment. She could literally feel the eyes of students around the mess hall staring at her. She wished that this was a dream. She wished she'd waited for a more private moment to confront Lucre. She wished she hadn't just made an ass of herself in front of a good portion of the student population.
Fortunately for her, Lucre seemed able to make a save. She accepted his note, read it quickly and shoved it in her pocket with the one she'd written. It was pointless to give it to him now, she supposed. She should really start thinking about things before she did them. "I-I uhh." She stopped, the godess was getting up to leave. Morgan hadn't meant to do that, had she? All in all, did she really want Lucre? Did she still like him like that? She didn't know. However, some kind of reaction was called for, and Morgan had a choice to make.
Option 1: She should sit with Lucre. Everyone would stare at her for a while, but then go back to their breakfasts. The gossip would likely be that Morgan and Lucre had some kind of romantic relationship. Morgan's pride would be mostly intact, and so would his. The godess was an unknown. Morgan didn't know whether she'd be back later or not. She didn't seem like the type to back out as apparently easy as she was. Pros: She'd still have Lucre if she wanted him. Cons: The gossip mongers would have something juicy on her.
Option 2: She should not sit with Lucre. No one would stare at her right now, but those who witnessed the event, or heard about it from friends would be 'concerned' (read: want the juicy details) about her and her situation. The gossip would likely be that Lucre had flirted with Morgan, then with Lurielle, and he'd gotten caught. He might understand if Morgan left, he might not. The godess would be happy, thinking Morgan had ceded any romantic claim on him. Pros: Her pride would be fully intact. Cons: The gossip mongers would have something juicy on her.
It took her all of three seconds to choose Option 1. "Thank you for being so gracious, Lucre. I must apologize for my rude behavior. I am so sorry, It was unseemly of me to strike you, both with my hand and my unfair words. It seems I was mistaken," she said, humbly. Her skin lost its pink tone. She could still feel the eyes on her, but as long as she didn't actually hit him again, they'd eventually become disinterested. "I'm also sorry for having made your friend uncomfortable enough to leave. I shouldn't have acted so rashly."
Post by Thomas Lucre on Oct 1, 2007 14:24:28 GMT -5
"Oh nooo, nonono. I can assure you that any slap to the face I've ever recieved, I've most assuredly earned." As someone once said, the best actors speak with at least a little truth in their dialogue. So was true that by the slimmest stretch of one's imagination, did Lucre indeed scorn more women than he was truly worth. When he flirted harmlessly with girls he cared nothing for, then strikes like that would leave his memory within minutes. However, when it happened to involve girls that he actually took an infatuation with (regardless of how briefly he's known them), then he would still take slaps with the same stride. The only difference, his heart would twinge with the pain of his mistake for a long time to come. It didn't happen often, but when Lucre fell for a girl, or girls, he fell hard.
Taking his seat close next to her, it seemed that Lurielle had decided to take flight. So it seemed that Lucre had misinterpreted one thing about her, and that it was she did not take romance as lightly as he. The number of cracks in his heart officially breached that of the cracks in his cheek bone. Inwardly, he wanted to die for dealing any sort of heartache to any girl whose feelings he actually cherished. The rule was, however, that no one is supposed to covet the warmth of more than one girl at once. And yet here he was, cozily close to the cream haired Prefect in pink. It was not like he ever presumed to actually have both at once. He merely started off flirting (admittedly a little more heavily with some than with others), and before he knew it, found that he actually cared about more than one of those girls he came to know. He was so evil, this Lucre.
"Oh no, don't worry about her. We didn't have that long to talk, and she had somewhere to go."
Lucre, you're going to hell for this. You know that, right? Lucre had just lied to her. And she probably knew it too. But he knew that making further conversation on the previous scene moments earlier would not be resolved with words. So then, with one sin, he'd resolved to make another. Either use a leviosa charm to call all the silverware to him and pin his wicked body to the chair, or, make less of a scene and take Morgan's hand. Seeing as watching a suicide would be much more traumatizing than her first potential heart break, he went for the latter. It was nothing big, his hand merely reached at her side and touched her index and middle fingers with his fingertips, loosely coiling them.
He then turned and smiled, as well as his shaking heart would allow.
"So then, m'dear. What's got you so well made up today? You look gorgeous."
Post by Morgan Pendragon on Oct 1, 2007 15:10:15 GMT -5
His lies. His eyes. His gentle touch. His compliments. Things she would have longed for yesterday now seemed wrong and silly to her now. Couldn't he see that the girl that had left was superior to plain little Morgan in every way? Was he blind enough to prefer her company? Or was he merely trying to make the best of a bad situation, as she was? She'd put her money on the former. She had no doubt Lucre, the handsome and oh-so-charming Slytherin boy, had some modicum of genuine feeling for her. The lunch they had shared had definately not been faked. However, it was unlikely the feelings went past friendship.
She pushed his honeyed words aside. "My dear Lucre, you've no need to lie to me. It was obvious that as far as romance is concerned, Lurielle is a far more fitting choice for you than myself. I was wrong to thing we had anything but a plutonic, friendly relationship." As much as it pained the prefect to say such words (each one seemd to pierce her heart as a dagger as it was spoken), it was an inevitable truth. Morgan was no match for Lurielle, and no equal to Lucre. She was inferior, not her looks, which with the exception of her unusual coloring were quite plain, but her personality. She was bookish, awkward, selfish, and boring, and at times she even came off cold and indifferent.
"Please. Do not try to deny your feelings for her, it was apparent on your face the moment she entered the room. We are friends, Lucre, and it's my delight to see you happy, not pained and miserable as you are now. Please, for me, go claim your rightful princess, and know that the only thing I regret is not being able to make you that happy myself." She smiled at him, perhaps not quite as merrily as she had that first meal they'd shared together, but hopefully it would tell him that she would be just fine.
((eww. sorry. I hope I gave you enough for a reply.))
Post by Thomas Lucre on Oct 1, 2007 15:42:37 GMT -5
And a heavy sigh was breathed for this lamenting affair.
Lucre's fingers went limp, releasing his meek grip upon the prefect's small fingers. So it seemed that both these girls had enough of his stunts. Juggling both their hearts in hand like they were nothing but bowling pins, he finally realized that his ways of acting around girls was nothing to be proud of.
Lucre's gaze had lost its life. Was that what it meant to fall in love? For both girls in question to suddenly become disinterested? Well sure, it seemed to be the most natural course of things. He had toyed with them the same way a child would with a pair of hermit crabs. Naturally they'd give up when they actually gained their hard-earned chance to claim what they desired. They gave up because Lucre was not the man they thought he was.
"Farewell then, my Prefect." rising from his chair, Lucre's grin was that of someone whom was ready. For what he was prepared for, his lifeless eyes dared not betray. His pony tail lifted behind him as he broke into a sprint, racing out the doors to the hall and in the opposite direction of where Lurielle fled.
Teagan Offline: This board is full of nostalgia.
Aug 22, 2020 8:39:09 GMT -5
Missing the old MH: gotta say missing when MH and all that was around.
Nov 6, 2019 0:02:30 GMT -5
Willow_lazy: why tf are there 400 posts about adidas
Sept 6, 2018 17:35:57 GMT -5
Azrael: I'm not hard to find, since I'm the only one there who goes by "Azzy", I'm pretty sure. XD
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Azrael: Dunno if anyone still pops by here from time to time, but if any of you mofos do and still feel like gettin' yo nerd on, I've been hanging around this here place a bunch recently: www.roleplayerguild.com/
Feb 10, 2018 16:44:10 GMT -5
Azrael: hold onto your pantaloons
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