Post by FINN MICHAEL KIERAN on Mar 30, 2013 19:00:20 GMT -8
Finn was listless. Nothing of interest had gone on at all in the Common Room, save for the usual spat or two. But that was everyday news. They were all a particularly volatile bunch, and without fail, someone always rubbed someone the wrong way. They'd have it out, and, provided all went well, everyone was speaking in time for supper. After nearly an hour, or perhaps it was two, Finn decided he was going to go to his 'thinking spot'. The spot in question being the Dungeons, and the thinking in question usually meant copious amounts of drinking, smoking, and general loitering about.
He went to his room, grabbed a bottle of vodka and some pumpkin juice and very creatively tucked them in his robes. Checking to make sure he had his wand and cigarettes, he saluted a farewell to his Housemates and strode out the door. He never had a particular plan for when he went to the dungeons. Just the basic strategy of get buzzed, have a smoke, and find something entertaining down there. Last time he had had a very intriguing conversation with the Bloody Baron.
As he felt the familiar cool breeze that emanated seemingly from nowhere, he looked for signs of his usual spot. Cigarette butts, a makeshift ashtray, and the occasional candy wrapper. He waved away a few cobwebs, feeling perhaps he had gone the wrong way, until he saw the telltale signs of 'Finn was here'.
Withdrawing the bottles, he conjured a cup, and mixed the two liquids, and sat leaning against the stone wall. He ignited one of the old torches that lined the dungeon before lighting a smoke. He breathed in deeply, the smoke hovering still in the air. Finn leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The silence of the dungeon had always been perfect to clear his mind. The occasional drip from water somewhere in the distance, a scurrying rat. Nothing more.
Such was not the case this time. After awhile in the dim silent dungeon, the dull thudding of footsteps could be heard. Finn lazily turned his head in their direction, head still leaned against the wall, drink in one hand and cigarette in the other.
As the figure came into view, a smirk creeped on Finns face and he leaned forward, arms gestured out in front of him.
"Ah! Ezio, lovely to see you. Welcome to my..glorious patch of dungeon."
He went to his room, grabbed a bottle of vodka and some pumpkin juice and very creatively tucked them in his robes. Checking to make sure he had his wand and cigarettes, he saluted a farewell to his Housemates and strode out the door. He never had a particular plan for when he went to the dungeons. Just the basic strategy of get buzzed, have a smoke, and find something entertaining down there. Last time he had had a very intriguing conversation with the Bloody Baron.
As he felt the familiar cool breeze that emanated seemingly from nowhere, he looked for signs of his usual spot. Cigarette butts, a makeshift ashtray, and the occasional candy wrapper. He waved away a few cobwebs, feeling perhaps he had gone the wrong way, until he saw the telltale signs of 'Finn was here'.
Withdrawing the bottles, he conjured a cup, and mixed the two liquids, and sat leaning against the stone wall. He ignited one of the old torches that lined the dungeon before lighting a smoke. He breathed in deeply, the smoke hovering still in the air. Finn leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The silence of the dungeon had always been perfect to clear his mind. The occasional drip from water somewhere in the distance, a scurrying rat. Nothing more.
Such was not the case this time. After awhile in the dim silent dungeon, the dull thudding of footsteps could be heard. Finn lazily turned his head in their direction, head still leaned against the wall, drink in one hand and cigarette in the other.
As the figure came into view, a smirk creeped on Finns face and he leaned forward, arms gestured out in front of him.
"Ah! Ezio, lovely to see you. Welcome to my..glorious patch of dungeon."
