Post by FINN MICHAEL KIERAN on Oct 24, 2013 11:54:47 GMT -8
Finn was, as he always was, down in the dungeons. Mind you he wasn't in the Slytherin Dungeon, nor the common room for that matter. Just walking to a particularly untraveled route where he was fond of drinking himself silly. He was bordering alcoholic at this point. But Slytherin was a 'don't ask, don't tell' sort of house. No one asked where he was going or what he was going to do, so he never told them. He was content with that. Granted he should probably be doing something productive, or something less detrimental to his health. But his grades had stayed where they always had, even considering the copious hangovers he subjected himself to.
He strolled almost lackadaisically to his preferred area of dungeon, lighting a cigarette on his way. Occasionally he'd invite one of his fellow Slytherins, more out of courtesy than anything. More often than not, they declined, which he was admittedly glad about. Sure, he'd love the company, but not the conversation. Atleast not when he got drunk and more open with what he said.
As he walked he heard faint noises ahead of him. Naturally he chalked it up to rats or other crawlies down in the dungeons. He'd never fully explored the area, so who knew what was really down there. For all he knew there could be a manticore he hadn't noticed. It wasn't until he saw the faint glow of his candle in the distance, that he considered the possibility that he wasn't alone. He had always left a large candle sitting on the floor where he hung out. He was certain he had extinguished it before he had left the last time he was down.
He steps grew wary, and defensive the closer he got. And the closer he got the more the candle revealed. There was someone sitting there, just sitting. And what looked like something else along with them. He walked quietly until he was close enough to see who it was. Hand gripping his wand, he looked closer at the person only to realize it was Eric Rosier. His hand released from his wand and he leaned against the wall opposite his fellow SLytherin.
"See you found my patch of dungeon, brother."
He strolled almost lackadaisically to his preferred area of dungeon, lighting a cigarette on his way. Occasionally he'd invite one of his fellow Slytherins, more out of courtesy than anything. More often than not, they declined, which he was admittedly glad about. Sure, he'd love the company, but not the conversation. Atleast not when he got drunk and more open with what he said.
As he walked he heard faint noises ahead of him. Naturally he chalked it up to rats or other crawlies down in the dungeons. He'd never fully explored the area, so who knew what was really down there. For all he knew there could be a manticore he hadn't noticed. It wasn't until he saw the faint glow of his candle in the distance, that he considered the possibility that he wasn't alone. He had always left a large candle sitting on the floor where he hung out. He was certain he had extinguished it before he had left the last time he was down.
He steps grew wary, and defensive the closer he got. And the closer he got the more the candle revealed. There was someone sitting there, just sitting. And what looked like something else along with them. He walked quietly until he was close enough to see who it was. Hand gripping his wand, he looked closer at the person only to realize it was Eric Rosier. His hand released from his wand and he leaned against the wall opposite his fellow SLytherin.
"See you found my patch of dungeon, brother."
