Post by avyx on Jul 4, 2012 5:32:03 GMT
[style=width:450px; height:600; background:url(http://i605.photobucket.com/albums/tt132/AuroraRuby/Misc/TurningTables.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:left][style=width:450px; height: 200px; padding-top:20px; padding-left:25px; background:url(http://i1215.photobucket.com/albums/cc505/wickedgent/Regulus/tumblr_m5sa2b5tg61r1and7o2_250.gif); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:center]
The hearth of the common room became more and more welcoming as the days grew colder and more often Regulus found himself seated by the fire on one of the green leather couches, his latent tendency to change the fire a temporary green not quite uncommon. For now though he let it be; the flame flickering a bright red while the rest of the room was garnished in their traditional House colours of greens and silvers. There were a handful of other students about as well, studying or chatting amongst themselves - some casually and some darkly, some barely using words at all and opting to convey their words in sneers. Some of it was unsightly and distasteful and other times it was just characteristically dull. And while he remained most certain of his surroundings, his eyes did not linger on the others unless they acknowledged him or he felt the need to do so to another; which in all honesty was a rare effort. Even among the elite, there were very few he would actively go out of his way to yield. Alexei Montague, for example. While others; he left that responsibility to them, pretending to be too enthralled in the black bound leather book in his grasp to notice them. Though to anyone who knew Regulus' nature, it was obvious that he wasn't so lenient to be careless even in the company of his own House.
The wand wedged between his fingers made that quite clear to anyone who may have taken notice, not that he expected them to. People was exceptionally ignorant to the point that Regulus almost felt that they were competing to make a sport of it. Elsewise they might have noticed that he was not entirely consumed by the black scrawls of ink etched into the parchment, nevermind how interesting The Most Unorthodox Potions were or how annoyingly red the flame from the fireplace was. He was attentive in his silence. Looking up briefly from the book, he caught the eye of an older student as she walked into the common room from the Dungeons. The elder Thomas girl, He thought mildly as she nodded respectively his way before stalking off into the girls dorms. He didn't nod back. The Thomas family were a shameful sort and in his valuable opinion; uniquely moronic in their traditional values. But he fought not to concern himself over the matter. His haphazardous run-in with the younger Thomas girl in the Forbidden Forest had already spurned his thoughts in that direction with more effort than it was worth and he had no intention to revisit it.
Eyes back on the book, he flipped the page with his thumb, twirling his wand with his fingers up by his ear with his other hand. And while his mannerisms were casual, Regulus was not without his air of pure conceit and disdain for the other occupants in the room. There were very very few people who gained the full respect of a Black. And it was most notably rare for a Black to utilize that respect to it's full capacity. Anyone who wasn't a Black or who wasn't to be a Black was beneath them. And it was a fact that had simply been drilled into his head before he could remember. Prestige, honour, superiority; Regulus was the Heir to the Noble House of Black and it was not something easily forgotten for any respectable pureblood, particularly himself. Only one other person really knew what it meant to be the proper heir and he was no longer considered a Black. And it was in fact because of said person that he inherited the title. The thought immediately had him clenching his jaw just that much tighter, the wand stalling mid-twirl and his eyes sharpening and glaring into the page of his book. Though the Wart Enhancing Poition was hardly the target of his sudden irritation and he forced himself to relax, flipping the page again to a much more bizarre potion. A Toe Enlargement Draught. His brows quirked slightly, though his lips remained passively flat. Unorthodox indeed.
But his attention did not linger long as he heard another enter the room. And as caution would have it, he cast his glance upwards from the page his mothers reminder rushing to thought as it became apparant who it was.
'Oh, my Reggie, my dearest baby boy. You'll be the perfect Husband won't you, Reggie? I can always count on you. Unlike that mudblood loving traitor.'
He stood.
The wand wedged between his fingers made that quite clear to anyone who may have taken notice, not that he expected them to. People was exceptionally ignorant to the point that Regulus almost felt that they were competing to make a sport of it. Elsewise they might have noticed that he was not entirely consumed by the black scrawls of ink etched into the parchment, nevermind how interesting The Most Unorthodox Potions were or how annoyingly red the flame from the fireplace was. He was attentive in his silence. Looking up briefly from the book, he caught the eye of an older student as she walked into the common room from the Dungeons. The elder Thomas girl, He thought mildly as she nodded respectively his way before stalking off into the girls dorms. He didn't nod back. The Thomas family were a shameful sort and in his valuable opinion; uniquely moronic in their traditional values. But he fought not to concern himself over the matter. His haphazardous run-in with the younger Thomas girl in the Forbidden Forest had already spurned his thoughts in that direction with more effort than it was worth and he had no intention to revisit it.
Eyes back on the book, he flipped the page with his thumb, twirling his wand with his fingers up by his ear with his other hand. And while his mannerisms were casual, Regulus was not without his air of pure conceit and disdain for the other occupants in the room. There were very very few people who gained the full respect of a Black. And it was most notably rare for a Black to utilize that respect to it's full capacity. Anyone who wasn't a Black or who wasn't to be a Black was beneath them. And it was a fact that had simply been drilled into his head before he could remember. Prestige, honour, superiority; Regulus was the Heir to the Noble House of Black and it was not something easily forgotten for any respectable pureblood, particularly himself. Only one other person really knew what it meant to be the proper heir and he was no longer considered a Black. And it was in fact because of said person that he inherited the title. The thought immediately had him clenching his jaw just that much tighter, the wand stalling mid-twirl and his eyes sharpening and glaring into the page of his book. Though the Wart Enhancing Poition was hardly the target of his sudden irritation and he forced himself to relax, flipping the page again to a much more bizarre potion. A Toe Enlargement Draught. His brows quirked slightly, though his lips remained passively flat. Unorthodox indeed.
But his attention did not linger long as he heard another enter the room. And as caution would have it, he cast his glance upwards from the page his mothers reminder rushing to thought as it became apparant who it was.
'Oh, my Reggie, my dearest baby boy. You'll be the perfect Husband won't you, Reggie? I can always count on you. Unlike that mudblood loving traitor.'
He stood.
Lyrics from Turning Tables by Adele. Picture by Aurora. Table by (( Aurora !! of Caution 2.0.