Post by TEAGAN TEAGAN TEAGAN TEAGAN TE on Aug 20, 2007 19:21:46 GMT -5
Teagan quickly moved her brush through her dripping hair, pushing the water out onto the floor. She deftly pushed the white, fluffy towel over the straight red hair, squeezing the rest of the fluid out. She carelessly ran the brush over it a few more times, so it did not look like she had been in a windstorm seconds earlier. Impatiently, she threw the brush into a black duffel bag on the bench and tossed her black robe over her muggle clothing. She calmly closed the bag, snatched her head girl badge into the clasp of one spidery hand, and quickly vacated the Prefects' Bath. Her red hair flew behind her in graceful moist red strands as her quiet footsteps hastily moved her through the corridors.
She was a ravenclaw. A ravenclaw with curiosity, even if the questions she had in mind were not so innocent. Some ideas had sprung to her mind of late. The involved transportation.
The problem was that she had the Trace on her and could not test them out to their fullest capabilities as thus.
The bag bounced against her side lightly; it was only full of clothing and what-not. There was no reason for her to return to the common room so quickly. There was something that had been mentioned somewhere before: an aging potion. The Trace, Teagan knew, was only active until she turned seventeen and became an of-age witch. When would she be seventeen? In about eight months. Her main issue with this was that she could not conveniently illegally apparate from place to place, and she did not have enough money to ride the Knight Bus very much or to higher a professional apparator or something.
Even if she could not find information on the mysterious Aging Potion, then she might still find some other way to avoid the Trace. Considering all the thoughts that ran through her cool, unsocial head, getting out of the Trace would definitely be a benefit.
She had no doubt that her activities would be noticed, but she intended to make the fun appear as a glitch in their system; she had the American Trace, not the Spanish one, so this would be interesting. Did her trace even follow her to this distance, to this continent, to this unplottable school? Well, if they paid her no mind, then she certainly would not complain. Hopefully, they would not think she died or something if she suddenly disappeared from their magical devices...
Teagan pinned the badge on her robes as she stepped into the library. Her hair was still damp from her shower, but she did not suppose that anyone would bother to ask her about it. Even with the dance problems, the only other people problem she had was with some random guy at the arch. He was not new, but he did not falter from her glaring. Creeeeeeeepy. He also had a thing for arches, for some reason.
Basically, everything went the same as usual, though. She was intimidating enough for most unwanted folk to stay away.
The sixteen-year-old's experienced walk made it appear that she knew exactly where she was going, but she only had a vague idea and was still unsure about it. She kept her lush lips closed, unmoving, as her red-violet eyes quickly skipped and scanned, darting over the titles of books. She came to a stop and crossed her arms, looking at the potions section, one not unfamiliar to her. Potions and You. Potions and a Life of Romance. Ick. Eventually, she came to a Potions: the Obscure and Beneficial, a read she supposed that was written by someone trying to do "justice" to little often over-looked brews.
Her long fingers slid over the binding and released it with a simple tug from the other books blocking it in, supposing that it might be of some use. Classes had not yet started. She carried it with both of her hands as if it were a precious artifact and set it gently onto a nearby table. Brushing her sensitive fingers across the smooth, swirl-designed brown wood, she sat in a chair, slid her bag from her shoulder to bounce onto the ground by her feet, and began to flip through the pages.
Teagan's eyes read through the index. Her skin barely prickled at the H2O climbing from her hair to kiss her neck.
She was a ravenclaw. A ravenclaw with curiosity, even if the questions she had in mind were not so innocent. Some ideas had sprung to her mind of late. The involved transportation.
The problem was that she had the Trace on her and could not test them out to their fullest capabilities as thus.
The bag bounced against her side lightly; it was only full of clothing and what-not. There was no reason for her to return to the common room so quickly. There was something that had been mentioned somewhere before: an aging potion. The Trace, Teagan knew, was only active until she turned seventeen and became an of-age witch. When would she be seventeen? In about eight months. Her main issue with this was that she could not conveniently illegally apparate from place to place, and she did not have enough money to ride the Knight Bus very much or to higher a professional apparator or something.
Even if she could not find information on the mysterious Aging Potion, then she might still find some other way to avoid the Trace. Considering all the thoughts that ran through her cool, unsocial head, getting out of the Trace would definitely be a benefit.
She had no doubt that her activities would be noticed, but she intended to make the fun appear as a glitch in their system; she had the American Trace, not the Spanish one, so this would be interesting. Did her trace even follow her to this distance, to this continent, to this unplottable school? Well, if they paid her no mind, then she certainly would not complain. Hopefully, they would not think she died or something if she suddenly disappeared from their magical devices...
Teagan pinned the badge on her robes as she stepped into the library. Her hair was still damp from her shower, but she did not suppose that anyone would bother to ask her about it. Even with the dance problems, the only other people problem she had was with some random guy at the arch. He was not new, but he did not falter from her glaring. Creeeeeeeepy. He also had a thing for arches, for some reason.
Basically, everything went the same as usual, though. She was intimidating enough for most unwanted folk to stay away.
The sixteen-year-old's experienced walk made it appear that she knew exactly where she was going, but she only had a vague idea and was still unsure about it. She kept her lush lips closed, unmoving, as her red-violet eyes quickly skipped and scanned, darting over the titles of books. She came to a stop and crossed her arms, looking at the potions section, one not unfamiliar to her. Potions and You. Potions and a Life of Romance. Ick. Eventually, she came to a Potions: the Obscure and Beneficial, a read she supposed that was written by someone trying to do "justice" to little often over-looked brews.
Her long fingers slid over the binding and released it with a simple tug from the other books blocking it in, supposing that it might be of some use. Classes had not yet started. She carried it with both of her hands as if it were a precious artifact and set it gently onto a nearby table. Brushing her sensitive fingers across the smooth, swirl-designed brown wood, she sat in a chair, slid her bag from her shoulder to bounce onto the ground by her feet, and began to flip through the pages.
Teagan's eyes read through the index. Her skin barely prickled at the H2O climbing from her hair to kiss her neck.