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Post by Colt Vince Sommer on Jul 13, 2013 19:24:19 GMT -5
Colton had spent the whole night mulling over Beth’s comments on their parchment. The two could spend hours sharing notes through magic, almost as texting, except this wouldn’t run out of battery without charging, and the content would be anything that you draw on the paper. Colton was sniggering in his sleep because of a drawing of a stick man that according to Beth, it was him, and it was enough to keep him laughing on it for more than due. It was inevitable that sleep eschewed him and that he had barely gotten some of it. Passing a hand through his considerably long locks, the man shifted his position on his desk and flew downstairs to the lower story of his lair. He was quite posh this morning, with a fancy suit that he had somehow received from Nathaniel as a welcoming gift, and that he could assume had been nicked from some of the shops around Rue de Paradis, but he couldn’t complain, though for obvious precautions, he wouldn’t wear it whilst being around the place.
The man stepped down into platform before heading through the threshold into the obscurity before facing the daunting uncertainty until the occasional gate found him with something close to a thud, making him rub his nose after the hit. He was practising casting a hovering light to light the passage without wand and he had promised himself he would limit the usage of such, as he was intending to become the best wandless wizard in history – as if such thing was relevant. Nevertheless, he dismissed his mishap and just forced the door open with a small twist of his wrist, oozing through the gap as it followed.
For some uncanny reason, Colton felt like he was late for a meal, as when he gazed at his wrist, the magical watch matched past noon. How was it even possible he had overslept that much? He would scold himself for it, but instead, he just rummaged through his pockets as he extracted the piece of parchment and quill. The man stopped on a wall and rested the paper on it as he scrawled something on it, “Blame you on my sloth”, luckily to him, it was Saturday and he had no classes arranged for today, thusly, there was nothing to be worried about, but minding the reflection of such behaviour on a person of his stance, well, it wasn’t good for students to know, so it would be best kept between him and his notes exchanger.
Colt halted and put the paper back into its nook before drawing his wand out, conjuring a mug of tea on his left and aiming towards his lips, heedless of the steamy contents. That would suffice until he was set for an appetizer before it was time for lunch. And as he took another sip from the mug, the parchment glinted lightly in his chest, putting out and unfolding it just before his whole attention was captured into it, neglecting his surroundings as something toppled against him, causing him to retreat slowly, just barely away from his actual position, wary of the mug and the hot liquid inside.
“I was distraught” as soon as the man commenced speaking, his lids narrowed, brows furrowing with an eerie hint, words remained inside him and they wouldn’t out. “Morgs…” it was all that ensued, his practically exultant being withdrawing before her, as if he was in presence of a ghost. “Can I have a word?” his stern expression didn’t reflect the visage of a joyful man, as usual, but of a concerned person that apparently, had something to say – so much pent up that needed releasing.
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