One would think that with the Maou and his brother back home, that Gwendal would have more time and be a little more relaxed. Which, may have been the case had it not been for the fact that he still had all the paperwork to do as well as the anxiety of just what they were doing and how much he'd have to clean up when he went back.
He probably should have gone with them, he supposed, but, while he loved his brother, he didn't want to travel with him. Wolfram's jealousy knew no bounds.
Needing something to eat, Gwendal made his way to the Great Hall. The feast surprised him a little, but he didn't understand a lot of these 'holiday' tradition things. He served up a plate of ham and green beans and mashed potatoes and the green jello salad, uncertain what it was only that green foods were supposed to be healthy...unless they were moldy, which this wasn't. He knew by the smell.
He was surprised at the sweetness of the green salad. He felt several things seem to loosen in him and he leaned back, almost falling off the bench an giggled. Oh, this was good. He shifted, pulling his plate down onto the bench as he laid on his stomach lengthwise on it. He started picking up forkfuls of food and talking to them abstractedly before eating them. Everything around him shimmered and danced with lights like some bad psychedelic 60's movie, if he knew what those were. "Groovy, baby," he said and then laughed.
"You're alright?" Miranda had taken to wandering around to watch the carnage. "At least you weren't turned into a kid." Hopefully he was just tripping and wasn't about to turn into a psychopath or anything.
"I'm just grooving with the atmosphere," Gwendal said. "It's all cool, baby. He looked around, his head a little unsteady, his gaze on things no one could see. "It's a trip, the trails," he said, a little vaguely.
"Trails?" Miranda repeated. "How many fingers am I holding up? Have you taken anything besides the food? Or have you had something to drink? And if it's the last one, where can I find some?"
He didn't smell of drink, but you could always hope.
"Like, no man, just the food. It's totally awesome. You should have some, baby." He waved at the bench in front of him. "Let's do it Roman style, man." He was not really up to the task of counting at the moment. "Let's just grove, baby."
"Roman style? With a young boy?" And somewhat more seriously "Maybe you'd better groove in a corner, where you can prop yourself against the walls." Barring any crazy Reefer Madness stunts, the man ought to be ok.
"Young boy?" Gwendal repeated then looked around, lifting himself enough to see over the tables. "His Majesty isn't here. It's all good, baby. Grooving's better with two."
"Uh-" she hadn't met much royalty, but doubted people close to them spoke like that. "So where were you planning on grooving? We need some music in here first. You should meet-" she looked around for a suitable woman to take his attention off her. damn. Just little kids
Then again...he hadn't actually been violent, he was not bad looking, though a bit older, and if worst came to worst she could probably just push him over. Leaning against the wall, by the door to the Great Hall Miranda had time to consider this as well as her utter lack of dates since arriving at Hogwarts.
She walked up to Gwendel "Hey, what were you saying about grooving?"
"Groovy baby," Gwendal said, smiling at her. "Just groove to the far out music and it's all good, baby." He weaved a little humming for her benefit since she seemed to have trouble hearing the music, at least until she ate.
"Oh, yeah. Yes, grooving." Miranda nodded, keeping from laughing, and not entirely keen on grooving in front of a bunch of people who couldn't hear the music.
Oly had warned her, but... "What did you eat here? I could do with some of that."
He probably should have gone with them, he supposed, but, while he loved his brother, he didn't want to travel with him. Wolfram's jealousy knew no bounds.
Needing something to eat, Gwendal made his way to the Great Hall. The feast surprised him a little, but he didn't understand a lot of these 'holiday' tradition things. He served up a plate of ham and green beans and mashed potatoes and the green jello salad, uncertain what it was only that green foods were supposed to be healthy...unless they were moldy, which this wasn't. He knew by the smell.
He was surprised at the sweetness of the green salad. He felt several things seem to loosen in him and he leaned back, almost falling off the bench an giggled. Oh, this was good. He shifted, pulling his plate down onto the bench as he laid on his stomach lengthwise on it. He started picking up forkfuls of food and talking to them abstractedly before eating them. Everything around him shimmered and danced with lights like some bad psychedelic 60's movie, if he knew what those were. "Groovy, baby," he said and then laughed.
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Hopefully he was just tripping and wasn't about to turn into a psychopath or anything.
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He didn't smell of drink, but you could always hope.
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Barring any crazy Reefer Madness stunts, the man ought to be ok.
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"So where were you planning on grooving? We need some music in here first. You should meet-" she looked around for a suitable woman to take his attention off her. damn. Just little kids
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She walked up to Gwendel
"Hey, what were you saying about grooving?"
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Oly had warned her, but...
"What did you eat here? I could do with some of that."
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