no raindrops on roses // closed

[asahria ryek']

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:5px; padding-top:5px; padding-right:5px; padding-bottom:5px; background-color: #575757; border-radius: 100px 0px 100px 0px;] asahria ryek "Im nothing more than a chalk outline" Asahria ran her hands gently over the smooth material of her white and black cotto stiped dress layered over a pair of black leggings as her eyes followed the slow fall of snowflakes. Biting her lip she leaned back in the chair she had positioned just outside her dormitory window. Her dorm room was empty, her room-mates probably off making the best of their day. Unlike the others she had kept her self hidden up in her dorm room all morning long, to take in the musky scent of their dark dorm. Sighing gently she traced a fragile finger along the window, leaving a trail where the dew clung to her finger. She had no intentions of wandering outside, it was far too cold for her taste. In all truth, she had no intentions of leaving the dorm at all. Drawing her finger from the window she casually rubbed her fingertips together, ridding the cool dew from their exterior. Sighing gently she turned her attention away from the window to the scattered contents of her room. It seemed ridiculous to be holing herself up in this mess. The floor was covered sparsely with random articles belonging to any of the three girls, and it smelt strongly of over-lapped perfumes, the darkness making the room seem dank and uncomfortable. Asahria knew that she should be spending her time else where, but really could think of no better alternative. Outside was wet and slightly overcast, which seemed less than appealing at the moment and she seemed to be avoiding the corridors at all cost. Every chance meeting she had come across later always left her in some muddled state of confusion. It almost seemed best that she stay away from any form of social activity. The little things one learned were starting to grate on her fairly uncomfortably, there was too much going on at once. Asahria wasn’t sure who it was she was avoiding, or if it was just the possibility of running into a familiar. She supposed it was the difficult situations she kept managing to arrange for herself that she was avoiding. Shaking her head hesitantly she decided that hiding herself away was just herself being pathetic. After all, she couldn’t hide from her troubles forever; she knew she couldn’t but she could try. Sighing she lifted herself from the chair, gently smoothing over her clothes as she made her way to the door. Sliding on a pair of flip-flops she pushed herself out the door and was welcomed by the chatter of students surrounding the corridor. Quickly scanning she saw no one whom she recognized and she was slightly relieved by the fact. Just because she had forced herself out of solitude didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to engage with others right now. She pulled her gentle blonde locks over her shoulder as she navigated carefully through the halls, trying to avoid places where she might be recognized or called upon. Her steely blue gaze stayed locked on her feet as she trudged through the halls, her feet barely making contact with the air before settling on the ground once more. The hall were full of lively laughter and whole hearted students, but for some reason she couldn’t make herself enjoy it, not at the present time. Not with so much weighing on her mind. That seemed to be a weakness of her lately, she just needed to be somewhere where she could let that emotion ebb out freely. Asahria let herself walk most aimlessly as she continued on, her gaze still locked tight on the motions of her feet. Slightly awed at the fact she had managed this far without running into someone she knew, she raised her gaze only to find herself in a sparsely populated hall. Shrugging gently, she realized she briefly recalled this area of the palace. She couldn’t quite place the sense of déjà vu which was suddenly in place, but she knew that she had been here on a prior occasion. Her eyes settled on a door not to far, which was left slightly ajar. It grasped her attention, had it been closed it might have lapsed her attention, but she felt simply drawn to see what was inside. Looking about her craftily she stepped forward taking the handle into her grasp. As she opened the door she caught sight of small room. It was quaint, but it was cozy. Fleetingly she watched for others in the hall and stepped inside. She pulled the door to close, gently, it barely even made noise as the clasp slid into place. The room reminded her of home, the reading room her parents had constructed for her there. It had been one of the only pleasantries that her parents had ever offered her. As she had not often seen them home and only had the company of some old , heinous caretaker Asahria had taken to it. She had used it as console, to get away from everything else when it seemed to be pressing at her from every direction. It was comforting to see so similar a place. Smiling she grabbed a random title from the shelves and made herself cozy in an armchair at the far right corner. At least here she felt she didn’t had to hide. Tags: -- Sampson | Words: -- 885 | Credit: 156zcm of Caution Notes: Hope it works :DD and her outfit

[Sampson Abernathy]

Sampson was currently doing homework in the least populated floor. Sam often got distracted by other things like people, people being dumb and windows. Windows were the enemy since Sampson often found himself staring out them and just daydreaming of other things he could be doing instead of this bloody homework. He made sure there weren't any windows nearby and unfortunately had to sit down on the hard stone ground up against the cold wall that was also made of stone. It was uncomfortable, but Sampson figured he would be able to concentrate better on his homework. It wasn't his best idea to date though. He kept fidgeting to try and find a comfortable position, but he just couldn't! Finally, he ended up laying on his stomach and even that was still not the best position to do homework.

It didn't matter in the end though. He had read through his Charms homework in a timely manner and even wrote his essay that was due tomorrow. For once, Sampson had been productive with a subject he wasn't particularly good at. He stood up with his hands on his hips and smile. Looking down to his watch, Sampson realized he had been at it for three hours. His face feel in disappointment. Well, maybe it wasn't in a timely manner, but at least he finished it. Packing up his backpack with the supplies he had taken out, Sampson zipped it up and threw it onto his shoulders. Moving his body back and forth a bit to adjust his backpack, Sampson was going to go back to his common room and sit on a nice plush chair since his bum needed something soft after rolling around in different positions on the stone ground. He rubbed his neck and tried to crack it by rolling his head a bit. With a satisfied crack, Sampson could see himself doing this all day. Sampson was never going to do that again. He should have just gone to the Room of Requirements and imagined a room with a soft ground and no windows. Now that sounded like a better idea for the future.

He even decided to walk past the corridor that held the entrance to the infamous room. It was much of a secret really. Anybody that didn't know about it was either living under a rock or was new to Beauxbatons. Sampson would give the new people a break, but there was no excuse for not knowing about such an awesome place. He rounded the corner to the place he visited most often and stopped when he saw that there was a door on the wall meaning that someone else was in there. Perhaps more than one? Sampson slowly lowered his eyes and his hand went up to his chin. Now this could be interesting. Whoever was in there would be off their guard and Sampson could find out something juicy or secrets. Sampson sure loved discovering secrets that weren't meant to be told. Or seen. Quickly walking over to the door, Sampson tried to be quiet as a mouse as he opened the door. There were no voices or noises and Sampson wondered if someone was talking a nap. There was another great idea! Sampson thought as he slipped inside the room. His face fell as he saw it was one of those study rooms people often had in their large houses. Another room that was boring?! Sampson had popped in on another girl that had thought up the Prefect lounge which was really lame. Nobody here was creative apparently. Rouerie's and their books, Sampson thought negatively. Nonetheless, he walked in a bit more and saw a blonde haired girl. "Well isn't this just a quaint little room." Sampson said in his most annoying baby voice. Mocking people right off the bat, check. Eh, it just slipped out of Sampson's mouth sometimes when he couldn't contain himself. He walked towards one of the book shelves and titled his head to read the titles. Turning his head back to her, "Let me guess. Rouerie?" Sampson asked with his eyebrows raised.

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[asahria ryek']

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:5px; padding-top:5px; padding-right:5px; padding-bottom:5px; background-color: #575757; border-radius: 100px 0px 100px 0px;] asahria ryek "Im nothing more than a chalk outline" Asahria settled farther into the deep red cushions of the armchair, tucking her feet underneath her, feeling strangely at home in her own private nook. Not surprisingly, she found that the room actually offered her more comforts than her home ever had. Here she was totally hidden away, there was no one to come looking for her. Not that her parents ever had. The sudden memory of her mother was almost too much to handle. Though she had never had much of a connection with her mother, if any at all, her sudden death had still taken a toll on Asahria. Maybe it was because she now knew that there would never be an opportunity to make an amends, but who was she kidding. Her mother had never shown any interest in her only daughter and Asahria seriously doubted she would have even had she been granted a long and healthy life. Closing her eyes she chastised herself at the thought, she knew that her family ever brought her pain. Sighing heavily she opened her eyes, relieved to see that she was still in her own private nook. No one could bother her here, unless she chose to let them. Pushing her hair back behind her ear, Asahria turned her attention back to her reading, a poetry collection titled The World’s Wife. While she had never been a huge fan of poetry, she’d have to admit that she was finding the contents rather amusing. It was a collection which took characters, stories, histories and myths which focus on men and instead presented them in a new perspective that showed women who were previously obscured behind the men. She was finding the poetry particularly amusing and was enjoying the short release it was allowing her from the outside world. Just as she turned to the last page, movement in the room pulled her gaze from the book. Her steely blue eyes finding a stranger in her midst. The tall, dark haired male was not a face that she recognized. He must have slipped into the room quietly as she’d been reading, completely oblivious to her surroundings. She watched his slow gait as he took in his surroundings, finding himself a place at a nearby bookshelf. ."Well isn't this just a quaint little room." She could hear the sarcasm encasing his words. Asahria rolled her eyes as she flipped the book closed laying it in her lap as he scanned the bookshelves a question at his lips. Something told her he was not asking her house out of polite curiosity. Asahria watched him, waiting to see what other smart remark he had waiting, only speaking when she decided they were done. Aren’t you a regular Sherlock Holmes… She quipped, her tone icy. While many may have considered her Beauxbaton’s sweetheart, one couldn’t neglect that Asahira had a bit of a temper when pushed. Charlton had one called her ice princess after all. And let me take a guess, She spoke, a smirk playing on her lips. Oh wait, that’s right I don’t need one. You’re a sournois. She didn’t need his verification to know the answer, she knew his type. She had a habit of surrounding herself with them after all, each one as cocky and arrogant as the next. So tell me, do you really have nothing better to do than mock me? Because if so, I think you’ll find that you are wasting my time. Flipping her golden locks over her shoulder she gave him a piercing stare, daring him to test her further. Tags: -- Sampson | Words: -- 575 | Credit: 156zcm of Caution Notes: She is feeling testy. :Doutfit

[Cupidon]

Oh, tra la la la la. What a hunky dory day this was turning out to be. The month of February, riddled with lovers here and there. Up and down. All around. Cupidon merrily floated through the corridors, above the heads of students. Cupidon tsk'd at some of the heads she saw, shaking her head at the dryness around. The little creature shuddered and slinked off into a side room where she had seen a very familiar boy saunter off into. Well, well, well.... This boy was one that Cupidon recognized from another encounter. And it was certainly a memorable one, he recalled. Cupidon grinned and mischievously tapped its fingers together as it stared at the two students. Neither one content to see the other, it seemed. But the question was, did they know one another? Slipping under the spell of invisibility, Cupidon slipped up to the blonde girl, beautiful and calm, and decided to fuel her rage a little further. Cupidon slipped a little nibble on her forearm and grinned, slinking away into the shadows, invisible to their eyes. Ready for the show, Cupidon hoped.

[Sampson Abernathy]

His eyes went to wandering about the room, taking in more of his surroundings. His eyes flicked towards her when she complimented him in an icy tone. Sampson smirked at the comment. He did like to think of himself as Holmes. Holmes was a smart man that said what was on his mind and didn't care if people were offended. Sampson did think he was considerably smarter than most people with a few exceptions. He was willing to admit there were people smarter than him with the books, but Sampson was a different kind of smart. His smirk only become more profound when she guessed correctly on his house. It was always easy to tell who was a Sournois. Most of them were either rude, intimidatingly quiet or spoke very fondly of themselves. There were those few Sournois that had gone soft, but Sampson tended not to associate himself with those people.

"Correct! Stereotypes do come in handy, don't they?" Sampson asked mocking cheerfulness. Sampson didn't like being grouped under one big stereotype since he liked to think of himself as unique. But people did tend to see Sampson as a Sournois that set the stereotype for Sournois. It was really quite annoying. Sampson took it to himself to sit in a nice looking chair to sit in close by to this icy blonde. Sampson knew that he annoyed people easily, but he had never gotten a response like this one before. People could be complete idiots sometimes in Sampson's eyes, but on the other hands, people always fascinated Sampson in how they worked. This girl just didn't want to take his s**t, and that made Sampson even more willing to keep bothering her. It was a terrible move on Sampson's part, but he loved seeing people being in pain.

"Wasting people's time is my specialty, though." Sampson told her as if he was hurt about her statement. He pouted his lip for a few more seconds and then waved his hand in the air. "But yes, I really don't have anything better to do." Sampson answered this time. He really didn't since his homework was done and he didn't have any Prefect duties until later. Sampson pushed himself out of the chair to stand up again to examine some more books. "Sampson." Sam said and turned his head to peer at her. "For when you tell your friends about me. That's my name." Sampson explained and turned back around to smirk. Everybody was always talking about him, whether it was good or bad. It was normally not very decent gossip, but it was gossip nonetheless.

ooc; sorry for the delay. i was having some writer's block

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[asahria ryek']

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:5px; padding-top:5px; padding-right:5px; padding-bottom:5px; background-color: #575757; border-radius: 100px 0px 100px 0px;] asahria ryek "Im nothing more than a chalk outline" The book snapped closed and Asahria chose to let it rest on her thighs instead of its familiar nook in her palms. She settled back in her chair, curling her legs beneath her as her eyes followed the dark haired male across the room. The casual amusement which he revealed in response to her comment only served to heighten her nerves. Asahria rolled her eyes at the smirk which had become prominent on her lips, it seemed as though she hadn’t been wrong in her assumptions. Only a sournois would be so smug. Her words hadn’t been meant as a compliment, but something in his demeanor told her he’d taken them as so. Asahria bit her lip slightly and shook her head, in testament to his self-righteous attitude. It wasn’t as though she could expect something more from him – his idea of an introduction far from what one might consider proper. Asahria remained in silence as her new found companion, for lack of better definition, wandered about the room. She doubted he was as interested as his actions made him out to be. His mere statement had been enough to convince her otherwise. There would be nothing on those shelves which interested him. Her attention was pulled away from the boy as a sharp pain resonated in her forearm. Biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain, she rubbed at her forearm. She couldn’t be sure where the pain had stemmed from, but exhaled deeply and kept her hand held against her arm as her gaze again met the boys. "Correct! Stereotypes do come in handy, don't they?" He really did think a lot of himself didn’t he. Asahria was finding him more perturbing with each passing second. The mock cheer in his voice evident – he didn’t like to be stereotyped. Well if you don’t want to be grouped as a stereotype, perhaps you shouldn’t act one. She commented snidely, pulling her hand from her arm. She sighed bitterly as he took a seat next to her, it seemed apparent that he’d be going nowhere soon. You’re as arrogant as the next. You’d do well as a poster child. Suddenly she wished for nothing more than him to unseat himself and walk out the door he’d just venture through. Asahria contented herself with smoothing the strips of her dress against her thighs in order to avoid his gaze. She didn’t find herself surprised at his next comment; in fact she’d figured it into her assumptions after he’d decided to wander the room almost habitually. How does that not surprise me? The question wasn’t rhetorical, the sharp edge on her voice clearly noting her distaste. Should you greet everyone in such a manner it wouldn’t surprise me that they don’t make a habit of keeping you around. She wasn’t always so crude, but something in his demeanor had rubbed her the wrong way. She was long past adjusting her temper in benefit of others. After all, hers wasn’t the one in need of adjustment. It’s not one I’ll be likely to remember. She retorted quickly as he again stood from his place. A small part of her had been hoping his destination was the door, but she found herself bitterly disappointed as he contented himself with browsing the shelves one more. It was disgusting, really. The way he presented himself as though he were an idol. She was sure she’d heard the name before, he was likely a prefect of sorts, but she no longer kept track of those things so she couldn’t be sure. In all honesty she didn’t care. Your association with Sournois is really your only distinguishing feature. She noted, letting a slim smirk take place on her lips, a perfect imitation of his own. I can’t imagine as though I’ll have reason to remember much else. Tags: -- Sampson | Words: -- 647 | Credit: 156zcm of Caution Notes: No worries darling ^^outfit

[Sampson Abernathy]

Sampson was just feeding off of the anger she was giving off. The annoyance was clearly written all over her face and Sampson was loving it. He must have caught her on a bad day or on her period. It was people like this blonde that made Sampson's day. Clearly these people cared too much about Sampson annoying them. Sampson was not an idiot, so he couldn't be a hypocrite in saying that he didn't liked being bothered but like bothering others. Sampson was a hypocrite in other ways such as personal space, but it was all in a matter of brains. Sampson considered everybody idiots minus a handful and thought everybody minus those handful were a waste of time. It was only right to annoy them because of their sheer stupidity.

Sampson turned his head towards her when she said he shouldn't be a stereotype. So she's observant, then. Sampson thought as he stared her down some more into those blue eyes of hers. Being a Rouerie did have its perks as Sampson knew very well from his brother. They were observant folk from their intelligence. It was hard to mock Roueries because they spent so much time in their studies. Sampson was often left to picking on how some of them didn't have social lives. Sampson still thought of them as inferior nonetheless. "But it's fun being the stereotype. Everybody thinks of me as the stereotype and that leaves me to being able to surprise people. I like to have an aura of mystery about me. It makes me more complex than meets the eye."

[/color] Sampson rebutted. Proving people wrong was his specialty. Sure he wanted everybody to see him as unique, but at the same time, he liked being a mystery to everybody.

He could see her boiling up inside. He could sense that she wanted to enact some sort of physical violence. Sampson wanted to laugh at that. A woman couldn't beat a man up. She hardly looked strong enough to punch him. Maybe a slap or two, but Sampson had adapted to the pain of many previous slaps. "I only keep a few around anyways. It suits me better than pretending to like someone to keep up appearances. Way too much work, really. We have that in common, see. You're not wasting your time to be polite and I appreciate that."[/color] Sampson told her. It was practically a compliment. People spent so much time trying to be polite to people to try to create a friendship to only end up being alone anyways. Disappointment followed with trying too hard to be friendly to everybody. You could never tell who thought of the same way as you did. Sampson preferred to keep people around that knew him and that Sampson knew them. Their relationship was clearly defined and that proved to be the best for all of them.

Sampson snorted at her comment. She just lied to herself to make her feel better that Sampson was in control of the situation. He was always the one to be on top of things. He was quite organized when he wanted to be. He wasn't a Prefect for no reason. "My association with Sournois automatically makes people think I'm a horrible person. I won't deny that I have traits claiming I'm not the nicest person, but you've just judged a book by their cover. I thought Roueries were above that sort of thing."[/color] Sampson said and rolled his eyes. "And there's a guarantee that you'll remember my face at least. Nobody forgets someone that annoys them. Obviously."[/color] Sampson explained with a sour look on his face. Was she just blurting things out right now to try to hit a sore spot?[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[asahria ryek']

]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:5px; padding-top:5px; padding-right:5px; padding-bottom:5px; background-color: #575757; border-radius: 100px 0px 100px 0px;] asahria ryek "Im nothing more than a chalk outline" I can’t say as though I’m particularly surprised. She said, raising her blue eyes to meet his own, settling her book on the arm of the chair. She’d rather been hoping that he’d dislodge himself from the chair and make an exit, but it seemed that he was enjoying her distaste, which only served to further unsettle her. She ran a hand through her long golden locks, a sigh escaping her lips as he continued, muttering some nonsense about an air of mystery. If anything he seemed to hold himself in high regards, but that was to be expected. She’d come across his type before and despite what he thought, she was certain that she knew as much as she wanted to know. Surprised or not, I’m not too keen mysteries, so I’m not too interested in figuring you out. I’m sure you’ve a fair number of girls who’d be far more interested than me. Why don’t you see one of them out? More than anything she just wanted him to leave her be. She knew full and well that she could retreat, but she was often to stubborn to back down and this circumstance was no different, she had been here first after all. He was finding her annoyance amusing, of that much she could tell. If anything it only heightened her temper, but Asahria found herself sitting back in her chair, forcing herself to calm down, not particularly ready to bite."I only keep a few around anyways. It suits me better than pretending to like someone to keep up appearances. Way too much work, really. We have that in common, see. You're not wasting your time to be polite and I appreciate that." Again, she simply nodded, her eyes pointedly fixed on the ceiling as he spoke. These boys really were all the same – parading themselves around the Palace, speaking with girls as they pleased, and only keeping a few close. She didn’t think it really had much to do with the hassle that came along with it, they were too often bothered by the social impact of everyone else. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing, when he noted her appreciation of her temperament. Why should I waste my time being polite if you had no intention of acting so. I don’t play at keeping up appearances. She said, and it was true. She was often referred to as kind and soft-spoken, because that’s what she was. Asahria liked keeping other people happy, but in this case she’d no motivation to do such a thing. But it is good to know you can appreciate someone for what they’re worth. Raising from her chair, she smoothed out her dress and grabbed her book, decidedly returning it to the shelves. Her eyes faltered from the dark haired lads presence for only a moment as she slipped it aong the stack of books, before turning to meet his gaze again – leaning carefully against the shelves. You’re wrong in your assumptions. She said, her fingers tapping gingerly against a hard book binding. I’ve not judged you by your cover at all. In fact had you kept your mouth shut I might have gone so far as to assume you as handsome, perhaps even intelligent. She said slyly, pulling a book from the shelf, giving it’s cover not even a moment’s notice. Flipping the pages open, she let the binding lay flat on her palm, her fingers trace a row of words across the page. I’ve made my judgments only from the words you’ve spoken, and that my dear sir, is not one’s cover. this time she laughed when he next spoke, his words masking his annoyance. His face was curled into one of distaste and it was her turn to smile. She’d no intentions of remembering his face and his words only seemed to spill out the desperation that he sought to be remembered. Tags: -- Sampson | Words: -- 675| Credit: 156zcm of Caution Notes: Hope it works :DD and her outfit