Please obey my every whim.
Week Name: Momentum
Date/Time: Thursday, October 26th / 5:20 PM
Location: Hogwarts - Library
Characters: Colton and Laine.
Status: Public.
Summary: Colton needs a book. Laine needs to go fetch.
Completion: Incomplete
Colton was in an incredibly good mood, which was either incredibly refreshing or incredibly unnerving, depending on who you were. Colton preferred to think that the bounce in his step and the extra shine in his hair (you would notice it if you were looking carefully, and you should be; he had taken special care with it today) was probably a visual treat for everyone he passed, and would be rather stunned to discover it wasn't.
At any rate, although Colton had no great love for Death Eaters, the recent news at least indicated that the tide was turning. Certainly he would have preferred that this be accomplished without death, which was a rather grisly affair, but it was still nice to see that the Dark Lord's supporters were as determined as ever. His father's letters from home had become more casual, filled with good humour.
Of course, the fake Morsmordre at Hogwarts was still a bit of a mystery to him, which was one of the many reasons he needed to study up on Protean charms.
Entering the library, he looked about for someone to help him. Honestly, how useful was a library if you couldn't be helped the moment you walked in? Upon spotting Laine, he strode forward, hiding his look of (momentary) disgust. It wasn't that he disliked her, it was just that she wasn't the most ideal of creatures in his mind. As a former Ravenclaw, though, she was awarded a certain modicum of kindness. Colton greeted her with a smile.
"Hello," he said tightly. The strain of being nice was a rather tiring one, but again--Colton. Good mood. "I'm wondering if there are any books devoted entirely to Protean charms, or any texts that have extensive information on them. I imagine you would know, yes?" Smoothly, he brushed his hair off his forehead and folded his arms across his chest; this meant, of course, that she had better be capable of supplying him with this information, or he would throw a tantrum. It was an odd series of gestures to indicate such a thing, yes, but Colton was sometimes odd.
Date/Time: Thursday, October 26th / 5:20 PM
Location: Hogwarts - Library
Characters: Colton and Laine.
Status: Public.
Summary: Colton needs a book. Laine needs to go fetch.
Completion: Incomplete
Colton was in an incredibly good mood, which was either incredibly refreshing or incredibly unnerving, depending on who you were. Colton preferred to think that the bounce in his step and the extra shine in his hair (you would notice it if you were looking carefully, and you should be; he had taken special care with it today) was probably a visual treat for everyone he passed, and would be rather stunned to discover it wasn't.
At any rate, although Colton had no great love for Death Eaters, the recent news at least indicated that the tide was turning. Certainly he would have preferred that this be accomplished without death, which was a rather grisly affair, but it was still nice to see that the Dark Lord's supporters were as determined as ever. His father's letters from home had become more casual, filled with good humour.
Of course, the fake Morsmordre at Hogwarts was still a bit of a mystery to him, which was one of the many reasons he needed to study up on Protean charms.
Entering the library, he looked about for someone to help him. Honestly, how useful was a library if you couldn't be helped the moment you walked in? Upon spotting Laine, he strode forward, hiding his look of (momentary) disgust. It wasn't that he disliked her, it was just that she wasn't the most ideal of creatures in his mind. As a former Ravenclaw, though, she was awarded a certain modicum of kindness. Colton greeted her with a smile.
"Hello," he said tightly. The strain of being nice was a rather tiring one, but again--Colton. Good mood. "I'm wondering if there are any books devoted entirely to Protean charms, or any texts that have extensive information on them. I imagine you would know, yes?" Smoothly, he brushed his hair off his forehead and folded his arms across his chest; this meant, of course, that she had better be capable of supplying him with this information, or he would throw a tantrum. It was an odd series of gestures to indicate such a thing, yes, but Colton was sometimes odd.