Post by Caira LaPointe on Jan 21, 2010 1:18:57 GMT -5
She was dressed in a heavy, regal gown today. A nice, deep crimson, velvet material with black, silk embellishments along the hemlines and trimmings. The shoulders were high and pointed -- contrary to her usual gemstone hue preference. Characteristically, she would have chosen a nice emerald, something that flows, but today was different. She wasn't hiring the average potions professor, nor even a remedial divinations teacher. Today, she was allowing the enemy passage, FREE passage amongst her school and the lightfighters that dwelt within it. Kang Xiu was an object of Dark Phoenix's affection. She contacted Caira and had given her the back history on the man that had applied for a healer position within her school. Torn between the dark battle and her career, she went against her instincts of immediately turning the man away and Owled him for an interview to save face for the ministry. Needless to say, she was feeling slightly unhinged by this recent development, and she wanted to make an impression.
She was feeling deadly today.
Instead of meeting with Mr. Xiu in her office as per usual, Caira opted to call him in for a chat in the place he would be working, the infirmary. As the heavy fabric dragged along the stone floor, Caira's flawless complexion was reflected from the glass in the many cabinets along the walls of the infirmary. Her brown hair was straightened and done up in a bun, while simultaneously spilling down the back of her neck and past her shoulders. She made her way to the arched wall which held the windows that overlooked the grounds, the Quidditch Pitch in particular and studied the movement from the students as she waited for her most recent addition to her school.
Of course she would be cordial and offer him the standard pleasantries, she was Caira LaPointe after all, but she wanted him to know that there was an iron fist around the school, and it was hers.
She was feeling deadly today.
Instead of meeting with Mr. Xiu in her office as per usual, Caira opted to call him in for a chat in the place he would be working, the infirmary. As the heavy fabric dragged along the stone floor, Caira's flawless complexion was reflected from the glass in the many cabinets along the walls of the infirmary. Her brown hair was straightened and done up in a bun, while simultaneously spilling down the back of her neck and past her shoulders. She made her way to the arched wall which held the windows that overlooked the grounds, the Quidditch Pitch in particular and studied the movement from the students as she waited for her most recent addition to her school.
Of course she would be cordial and offer him the standard pleasantries, she was Caira LaPointe after all, but she wanted him to know that there was an iron fist around the school, and it was hers.