Post by Rosaliz Hernandez G6 on May 4, 2008 20:46:46 GMT
It being a very ghastly day, sleet and winds pounding against every windowpane in the castle, Rosaliz had decided to take a trip to the castle library. It was generally quiet, save for the gossipy first years who clearly did not understand what the function of a library was, but Rosaliz could normally work around that. Therefore, after an uneventful late morning, Rosaliz selected one of her textbooks and snaked her way through the hallways, never glancing at anybody or stopping for anything. Her attention was straight ahead, concentrated on the terrain she was about to traverse over. People oftentimes looked at Rosaliz in a sort of wonderment: her expression was so marble-like, apathetic and careless, yet she carried an unmistakable intense beauty in her face, something not recognized by the Gryffindor. Looks were superficial and deceptive. Faces, in fact, were established to cover up and stow away a person's true intentions and feelings about a particular situation or person. Rosaliz, for one, hated that knowledge. People's inner thoughts and feelings were guarded by the way they expressed themselves on the exterior. They could choose the way they wanted to be portrayed, even if it sharply contrasted with their true character. Rosaliz, of course, was guilty of the same sin although she herself could not even recognize it.
After crossing the threshold to the library, Rosaliz's feet walked silently across the stone surface, hearing the quiet murmur of students and the scratching of quills against browned parchment. Taking in the people sitting at desks, the Gryffindor was actually relieved to see no disruption or immature behavior amongst her peers. Amazing. Rosaliz, of course, was not holding out for this solitude to remain, however. Sooner or later, somebody would get bored and start obnoxiously talking to their neighbor about how they snogged a girl yesterday evening. Gossip. Rosaliz had no usage for it; people were of very little concern for her. In fact, it was safe to say that the only concern she actually held for them was the fact that each and every one of them were her enemies. None were on her side, all were out to corrupt and take advantage of. Either that or they were too stupid or simple to do anything but let other people walk all over their sorry existences. Rosaliz knew that she had to be aware of these people, for either type could bring her down in a way she could not afford to be brought down. She could not be brought down; it would ruin all the plans she had formulated and destroy any hope of discovering true independence. This, of course, was her biggest desire above all, even though nobody knew about it.
Choosing the most out-of-the-way corner, Rosaliz placed her book upon the scratched table's surface, hazel eyes glancing about at the long aisles of books. Did she need another one to enhance her research? Couldn't hurt. Taking out her wand, Rosaliz tapped her book and placed a spell upon it, one that would cause anybody who tried to touch it feel like their hand was on a burning stove. It was a spell Rosaliz had learned from one of her more mild books; spells that barely touched on the Dark Arts yet were useful for everyday security measures. Beginning to spin her wand quietly, Rosaliz made her way to the left side of the library, catching sight of the Potions section. This subject was Rosaliz's utter specialty, true to many Gryffindor. Hazel eyes running past the titles of the spines placed orderly before her, she picked a book that struck her interest and opened it, yellowed pages weakening slightly as her bony fingers turned a page every now and then. After reading through three or so potions, Rosaliz placed the book back on the shelf, deciding it was not the type of thing she was looking for. After going through three more books, Rosaliz finally selected a thick, dark plum colored book before turning back, traversing back to the table in which her textbook lay waiting for her. When she drew closer, however, she noticed that somebody was sitting in her chair. Annoyed, Rosaliz walked to the chair, not letting her discomfort or annoyance show in her facial expression. "If the textbook was not an indication, somebody was already occupying this seat," she stated, looking down at the chair's inhabitant with her metallic eyes.
After crossing the threshold to the library, Rosaliz's feet walked silently across the stone surface, hearing the quiet murmur of students and the scratching of quills against browned parchment. Taking in the people sitting at desks, the Gryffindor was actually relieved to see no disruption or immature behavior amongst her peers. Amazing. Rosaliz, of course, was not holding out for this solitude to remain, however. Sooner or later, somebody would get bored and start obnoxiously talking to their neighbor about how they snogged a girl yesterday evening. Gossip. Rosaliz had no usage for it; people were of very little concern for her. In fact, it was safe to say that the only concern she actually held for them was the fact that each and every one of them were her enemies. None were on her side, all were out to corrupt and take advantage of. Either that or they were too stupid or simple to do anything but let other people walk all over their sorry existences. Rosaliz knew that she had to be aware of these people, for either type could bring her down in a way she could not afford to be brought down. She could not be brought down; it would ruin all the plans she had formulated and destroy any hope of discovering true independence. This, of course, was her biggest desire above all, even though nobody knew about it.
Choosing the most out-of-the-way corner, Rosaliz placed her book upon the scratched table's surface, hazel eyes glancing about at the long aisles of books. Did she need another one to enhance her research? Couldn't hurt. Taking out her wand, Rosaliz tapped her book and placed a spell upon it, one that would cause anybody who tried to touch it feel like their hand was on a burning stove. It was a spell Rosaliz had learned from one of her more mild books; spells that barely touched on the Dark Arts yet were useful for everyday security measures. Beginning to spin her wand quietly, Rosaliz made her way to the left side of the library, catching sight of the Potions section. This subject was Rosaliz's utter specialty, true to many Gryffindor. Hazel eyes running past the titles of the spines placed orderly before her, she picked a book that struck her interest and opened it, yellowed pages weakening slightly as her bony fingers turned a page every now and then. After reading through three or so potions, Rosaliz placed the book back on the shelf, deciding it was not the type of thing she was looking for. After going through three more books, Rosaliz finally selected a thick, dark plum colored book before turning back, traversing back to the table in which her textbook lay waiting for her. When she drew closer, however, she noticed that somebody was sitting in her chair. Annoyed, Rosaliz walked to the chair, not letting her discomfort or annoyance show in her facial expression. "If the textbook was not an indication, somebody was already occupying this seat," she stated, looking down at the chair's inhabitant with her metallic eyes.
