discernible edges // sampson

[raif donovan]

Dark eyes, danced carelessly, absorbing the sights which the palace offered him. Still, he hadn't managed to get a full view of this place. It seemed every time he had though he seen it all, he was met with further quarries still in need of venture. He hadn't seen it all he knew, there were those who had schooled here for years and still not seen the palace in its entirety. He hadn't sought to see it all in the little time he had been here, but he had been able to see much of what was available to him. Unlike life at home with his family in Versailles, here at Beauxbatons he had all the time in the world to spare. Every minute wasn't devoted to his father’s latest party or entertaining his newest guest. Upon arrival here, Raif had little of anything to do. It made him almost uneasy having so much spare time on his hands; it gave him time to do most anything he wanted. That was a discernible thought.

Shrugging his shoulders, he straightened the edge of an overturned rug as he passed by. This spare time was working on his nerves. Unlike many of the students here, Raif wasn't comfortable in seclusion making best of the time. Rather, he spent the hours of solitude brewing up plans to find company. It was no trouble finding it, not among a school of so many, it was just how one chose to get about it. Given his past history, small get togethers were out of the question. He still hadn't grown accustomed to life here, his father had been everything such a big deal, he felt as though it had worn off on him, as much as he hated that aspect. Following in his father’s footsteps was possibly the farthest thing from appealing in his own mind. He had come here to create a path of his own. Or so that was his intended goal.

Raif slowed his eyes catching on a door which he couldn't recall having seen only moments ago. His brows furrowed, a quizzical expression turning on his features. Had that been there before, he was sure it hadn't. Pondering only momentarily, he let his grasp settle on the handle, before spinning it open. The door waned open slowly. It was dark, the colour different from that which subsided in the corridor. Cautiously he pulled it open, mouth slightly ajar, taken by what he saw. It looked like the game room back home. A pool and fuzz ball table were the main centers, but darts were along the walls. Perhaps, he was dreaming. Another surprise. Magic, just like that stupid mirror, he recalled. None-the-less he found this much more appealing. Where it reminded him of home he had always preferred this room. Both social and quiet at the same time. It could be a place of relaxation, too bad he had no partner, to play.

His eyes lingered favorably on the table, if he was going to be here by himself it wouldn't hurt to shoot some balls around by himself would it? That would be such a bore though. Grimacing slightly, he pushed back his dark hair with the palm of his hand, the other resting genially in the pockets of his khaki pants. His dark eyes glanced across the room, which he still found similarly peculiar to the game room within his parents living quarters. Funny, that this place had showed up here. Was this room always here? Raif couldn't be sure but given what he'd seen of the palace he doubted it. None of the palace was styled in such a fashion. It was doubtful that one deliberate room would be placed here so, no, he didn't believe it was always like this.

He stepped forward to the pool table, eyeing it's balls neatly placed in the triangle, it made him envious for the parties his father had back home. It was odd that he found himself wishing for the dreadful things. He had wanted nothing more than to be away from them while he was at home. Things were different here though. He missed the company. Not the highly socratic aspect, but the large amount so f company. It was something he had grown accustomed to over the years, the solitude which he had been confronted with here at the palace was bitterly unnerving. He felt as though he had been secluded from the second he had stepped foot in the place. He wasn't quite used to the easy life either. His days were never busy here, but always so laid back. Raif didn't like having nothing to do, it made him rather weary.


--tags sam
--words 785
-- notes I just remembered our other thread was here ><

[Sampson Abernathy]

There were certain places amongst the castle that Sampson had took a liking to. One of those places was the Room of Requirements. Sampson loved that place mainly because it could become whatever Sampson wished it to be. It was like the perfect girlfriend: it was told what to do, be who Sampson wanted it to and he could use it whenever he wanted. It was nice to know that Sampson always had a place to go when he was extremely tired of being around people. That seemed to be more often than not these days.

Sampson was sulking around the castle in hopes that something would lift his mood. None of his dormmates were milling about the dormitory or in the Sournois common room, so Sampson grew bored of himself. As much as he liked to be by himself, Sampson did have a handful of friends that he actually liked talking to. It seemed so rare for Sam to have any friends at all, but that's because Sampson has always been picking with who he chooses as a friend. The only real friends he had were those in Sournois and those that he lived with. That totaled up to four or five friends. It was such a small number, but Sampson could hardly keep track of them sometimes. It was nice to tell people off because it always surprised them that he could claim he had friends. He could name them on just one hand! That is if he didn't include his brothers, but they shared the same womb. That wasn't quite the same as friends.

When Sampson arrived at his favorite spot, He caught somebody else claiming the Room of Requirement. Sampson scowled, but then saw who it actually was. Sampson cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Raif?" Sampson said, more to himself than calling out to him. Sampson quickly picked up the pace and when he entered the place, his jaw dropped. "What the...?" Sampson muttered as he looked around the place. It was full of...games? Was he seeing this right? Sampson really had no clue since he didn't grow up with any of this stuff. Walking over to Raif who had a rather large stick in his hand, Sampson just watched him for a bit. "What exactly is all this?" Sampson asked slowly with his eyebrows raised.

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[raif donovan]

Drawing his arm back, his dark gaze trailed the length of the cue before settling on the white ball, firmly seated on the felted green table. Right on point. A smile curved on his lips as he shifted the weight of his arm, the cue hitting the ball perfectly in the center, sending it careening towards the neatly aligned pyramid of balls at the center. Standing, he leaned against his cue, his smile widening at the clash of ivory. That had always been the biggest thrill of the game for him – the neatly aligned balls being met with chaos, scattering frantically across the table, before finally calming once more. As a child he’d always begged his father to let him break the pyramid, delighting himself in the knowledge that he had corrupted something so perfect. He liked the idea of chaos, it seemed applicable to his own life in a way that obedience never had. He continued to watch, nodding in contentment as the red solid fell into the pocket. It was a game better matched for company, but Raif found that he made good competition. It was never easy to beat yourself.

He crossed the table, lining the cue ball for a straight shot across the table, this time his target, the green number nine. He pulled back and again struck the ball, grinning as it tucked the ball into the corner pocket. He was far too good at this game, considering it was a muggle sport. Despite his father’s stubborn pride for his pure blood, he had a soft spot for some of the more competitive muggle inventions – though it was something he could assure few people knew. Billiards, was probably the only love that Raif and his father would ever have in common. As it were, Raif didn’t tend to confess love for much of anything and he had a reputation to show for it. The thought brought short, muffled laugh to his lips. It seemed all the boys here had a bit of reputation, as if love were just out of grasp, and a little too hard to hold onto. It wasn’t that they were incapable, denying it was just so much easier.

More often than not, his relationships were as fleeting as a greeting, perhaps a bit more if they served to interest him. He didn’t feel the need to be chasing girls around, when it was just as easy to have them doing the chasing. There had been one meeting though, that hadn’t been so fleeting. He was intrigued more than anything else, but something about her mischievous chocolate colored eyes wouldn’t melt away – regardless of the time which had separated the two. He was sure it was nothing more than intrigue, but no other girl had intrigued him in the way that Arden had. With a shake of his head, he pressed her from his mind; he wasn’t like to bring her up again. It wasn’t really his way. He fed off of fleeting glances and she was one of many, just one he couldn’t shake.

As he lined himself up for the next ball, something caught him off guard, sending the ball far right of his intended target. Biting his lip he turned, an immediate smile on his lips as he put a face to the voice. You’ve a bloody well habit of sneaking up on people Sampson. I missed… and I never miss. He said, with a laugh, walking over to pat him on the shoulder. Sampson was one of the few friends Raif had connected with since his arrival. Given their status it only seemed logical that the two would end up in the other’s company. Sampson was much like himself, pure-blood, stubborn, and a bit flighty in nature. He could see from his friends expression that he was confused, if not taken aback by the décor. Billiards, my boy. My father had a bit of a soft spot for muggle gaming. A fact which still bewildered him, given his father’s misgivings towards most muggles. It’s all about skill and concentration, you might have half a chance. He said mischievously, offering Sampson the cue.

[Sampson Abernathy]

Sampson didn't even bother to contain his facial expressions. It was Raif, after all. Sampson didn't feel the need to contain his emotions. The kid was a fellow Sournois man that Sampson shared a room with. It was a bit hard to not have someone know who you really are. There was literally no privacy when living with four other boys with similar personalities. Sampson observed the table thoroughly. There were many colored balls, some striped and some all one color. It looked like there were numbers on them as well and if he counted right, there were fifteen of these colored balls and one completely white one. Sampson smiled when he had heard he messed Raif up. The guy may be one of his best mates, but that didn't mean that Sampson couldn't enjoy a bit of mischief with him. "Well today you have."

[/color] Sampson said with a sharp laugh and then added with a devious smirk, "Besides, I can't help that I'm light on my feet."[/color] Sampson has always been told he was good at sneaking up on people and that was just because Sampson was light on his feet just as he told his friend. He did want to be an Auror one day and Aurors had to be quick on their feet in order not to get killed.

Sampson didn't even mind that Raif had patted him on the shoulder. Sampson had a bit of a personal space problem and didn't like others invading his space, but Raif and a few others were the exception to that rule since Sampson could actually call them his friends. Sampson saw that there were more of those sticks that Raif had in his hand. Going over to the rack of sticks, Sampson picked one up and weighed it in his hand as if testing its ability of how well it would help Sampson with whatever Raif was playing. Sampson had a competitive streak and he was known to turn pretty nasty. He was a sore loser and everybody knew that. Even thought Sampson wasn't all for modifying himself or toning down his negative qualities, he tried not to when with friends like Raif. Besides, Sampson knew that he wouldn't be having beginners luck with this game. This game looked like it required precision, planning and good hand-coordination. Sampson had the first two, but he wasn't athletic in any sort. When Raif had said it was a Muggle game, Sampson rolled his eyes at the mention of this being a Muggle game. Sampson didn't hate Muggles or even muggleborns. Sampson had no automatic grudges towards what kind of blood a person was. Sampson had an automatic disapproval of someone's personality. He was big on first impressions and if it wasn't good, then it would be hard to convince Sampson later on that you weren't what your first impression was. Sampson put down the one he had and took Raif, trying to imitate what Raif had been doing earlier. Aiming at the white ball, Sampson planned on hitting the green ball with the white ball. While it had worked, Sampson hadn't gotten it in a hole and barely got the ball to move since his fingers slipped. "Blimey!"[/color] he yelled in outrage. He handed the cue back to Raif and prepared to watch him closer.

ooc; finally found some muse! sorry this took forever.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[raif donovan]

So it would appear. Raif said, turning his eyes darkly on his companion, who’d taken on a devious smirk. Setting the cue against the table, he leaned casually against is, seating himself genially on the edge of the table as he watched Sampson – his eyes wandering amongst the contents of the table. Amused Raif said nothing as he spoke, but noted his words to be truth enough. He had known Sampson for some time now, since arriving here at Beauxbatons that was. Yet another Sournois, he was Raif’s dorm mate and among his best mates. The bloke had quite a reputation with the ladies here, unsettling them more often than not, but Raif found he generally enjoyed his company. They shared the same general temperament, though they differed in their approaches. Sampson tended to be more up front in situations, where Raif liked to draw in a sense of intrigue – his approach to females more charming than truthful.

Though I assure you it won’t be happening again. Too bad light feet won’t help you much in this game. Raif said with a chuckle as he patted his friend on the shoulder. Sampson of all people truly was light on his feet, something Raif both admired and abhorred. This wasn’t the first time that Raif had been caught off guard by the male’s presence, but he was thanfl he didn’t have to sort with a stampede every time he left and entered their room. Raif raised a curious brow as Sampson walked over to the wall, picking up a cue and testing his weight. He knew well enough that Sampson was as competitive as he was and was interested to watch him, particularly considering it was highly unlikely he’d ever played the muggle sport, the roll of his eyes at its mention being enough to back his thoughts. Whoa, settle mate. Raif said, trying to hold back his laughter as Sampson lined for the shor, hitting the ball but barely edging it across the table.

He could see the outrage lined in his fellow Sournois’ features as he handed him back the cue. This game is all precision, thought you stood a better first shot. He teased lining up the ball with the yellow ball, taking careful posture before sliding his cue into the ball sending it careening across the table making firm contact – straight into the pocket. You’re not going to let me beat you now, are you mate? He said with a laugh, knowing Sampson was never one to back down to a challenge. [bSo tell me. Where have you been hiding? I’ve not seen hide nor hair of you for nearly a week.

[/b] He stated simply, walking across the table. You’ve not had your heart stolen have you, finally let one of the girls draw you in. He knew that wouldn’t be the case, but he couldn’t help but to pull at his strings.



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