Post by Layne F. Larkin on Jun 20, 2012 21:27:33 GMT -5
Leading the way down the the dungeons, Layne showed her friends, Micha and Whites the way to the dungeon room she'd taken over a while back. No one had ever found it or said anything to her, so she took that as tacit approval for her to keep her shit down here. Anyway, Layne held the door open for her drinking buddies, and let them in.
The room had no windows, of course, but as soon as Layne opened the door, dozens of candles lit up the classroom-sized space. The candles were clustered in groups on the various surfaces in Layne's room. In one corner, there was a potions lab set up with shelves holding various ingredients and a worktable with space for a full-sized cauldron.
Several books were stacked precariously here, and one of them was opened to what looked like a complicated potion. Several shelves held vials filled with different-colored liquids, all of them meticulously labeled. On another shelf, there were at least a dozen notebooks holding Layne's personal notes on potion-making.
The stone of the dungeons was untouched as far as the floor went, but the walls were painted in vivid, multicolored vertical stripes of varying widths. Layne's double bed was tucked away in the far corner from her potions station, and two mismatched bedtables flanked it, one of which held Jett in his new cage.
The bed was unmade, and the blankets were a mismash of colors and patterns. In the middle of the room there was a few various chairs that Layne had either prized from disused classrooms, or transfigured herself. They were situated around a low and shabby black table, which might also function as a footrest.
The shelves from around the potion lab were echoed in other places around the room. Some held books, other held bottles of what appeared to be booze. Still others held pictures. A smiling blond man stood with his arm around a pretty yet severe Asian woman. The blond man waved, and pecked the woman on the cheek, and though the woman frowned, her eyes were smiling. Another picture showed the same blond man with a baby girl in his arms, maybe a year old. The child had dark hair and a scowl on her face, as though she were about to throw a tantrum.
There were even a few pictures of her friends from Salem. These skulked about in their frames, throwing dark looks around the room. These were clearly the type of people you did not want your kid to be friends with. A younger Layne was in some of these pictures, her hair still its natural brown-black as she tried her best to look as dangerous as her friends.
"Welcome to my abode," Layne said, waggling her eyebrows. "Just, like, ask before you drink anything I haven't given you. Some of this shit can really fuck with you." She set her bag down on her bed and retrieved the bottle they'd been drinking from before.
The room had no windows, of course, but as soon as Layne opened the door, dozens of candles lit up the classroom-sized space. The candles were clustered in groups on the various surfaces in Layne's room. In one corner, there was a potions lab set up with shelves holding various ingredients and a worktable with space for a full-sized cauldron.
Several books were stacked precariously here, and one of them was opened to what looked like a complicated potion. Several shelves held vials filled with different-colored liquids, all of them meticulously labeled. On another shelf, there were at least a dozen notebooks holding Layne's personal notes on potion-making.
The stone of the dungeons was untouched as far as the floor went, but the walls were painted in vivid, multicolored vertical stripes of varying widths. Layne's double bed was tucked away in the far corner from her potions station, and two mismatched bedtables flanked it, one of which held Jett in his new cage.
The bed was unmade, and the blankets were a mismash of colors and patterns. In the middle of the room there was a few various chairs that Layne had either prized from disused classrooms, or transfigured herself. They were situated around a low and shabby black table, which might also function as a footrest.
The shelves from around the potion lab were echoed in other places around the room. Some held books, other held bottles of what appeared to be booze. Still others held pictures. A smiling blond man stood with his arm around a pretty yet severe Asian woman. The blond man waved, and pecked the woman on the cheek, and though the woman frowned, her eyes were smiling. Another picture showed the same blond man with a baby girl in his arms, maybe a year old. The child had dark hair and a scowl on her face, as though she were about to throw a tantrum.
There were even a few pictures of her friends from Salem. These skulked about in their frames, throwing dark looks around the room. These were clearly the type of people you did not want your kid to be friends with. A younger Layne was in some of these pictures, her hair still its natural brown-black as she tried her best to look as dangerous as her friends.
"Welcome to my abode," Layne said, waggling her eyebrows. "Just, like, ask before you drink anything I haven't given you. Some of this shit can really fuck with you." She set her bag down on her bed and retrieved the bottle they'd been drinking from before.