Shadows((OPEN))

[jacques]

Jacques wandered through the hall, a pack slung over one shoulder, and odd items bulging out of seems. A book, a quill, and what looked supsiously like a puking pastel, were a few of the items. The noon sun was flowing throw the windows, casting the corners of the massive corridor into shadow. Students wandered the hall, glancing ay him before walking away hurridly. A group of 1st years actually stared at him with wide, fearful eyes before running away.

Sighing and running a hand tiredly through his hair, he hoisted the bag a little higher on his back. His golden eyes were slightly red, and he had an annoyed expression on his face. He had been up late last night, very late, exploring the grounds. Which, admittedly, wasn't allowed, was quite exciting. He hadn't gone into the woods again, seeing as he already had, and wasn't keen on being fallowed again if he did go.

Unfortunatly, when he was tired, he got a tad grumpy expression of his face, and his eyes became slightly blood-shot, and, with the scars, he looked quite and angry, dangerous tiger. Distractedly, he reached back into his backpack, turning his head away from in front of him, and didn't realize he was heading in a collision course to another student. He crashed into them, his seem on his bag ripped, making all of his books fall to the floor. Drat!! He thought, and looked at the student he had bumped into.

"Sorry about that," He said politely.

[Susan Matthews]

Susan carefully balanced her sketchpad, book sack, clipboard, pencils, erasers, and colored pencils in her arms. A lot more items than she usually carried around and some of them she could quite remember why exactly she had brought them along in the first place. A clipboard would be totally useless for the fact that her sketchpad had a hard back and could be it's own clipboard. Furthermore, she didn't plan on doing her homework and didn't need her book sack, but brought it along anyway out of habit. Her too-long jeans, red tank, and hair twisted into a bun held and held together only by a paintbrush added more to her wannabe-artist personality.

She was heading for the courtyard for her free period. There were always interesting people to sketch around the courtyard. And if there happened to be no one, the plants and trees in the area would suffice. Feeling her grip on the assorted items in her arms slipping, she paused to rearrange her things for so that they would be easier to keep a hold of. Balancing on one foot, using the other leg as another arm to hold her clip board for a minute, she bent over to re situate her sketchpad and book sack.

Satisfied with the new arrangement, she quickly straightened herself out and took a step forward. By the time she had lifted her head up again, she was already crashing into someone. she heard the rip of the boy's bag, the thump of his books crashing to the floor, and the tinkling of her own two dozen pencils and colored pencils littering the stone floor. Not only did Susan lose track of her twenty-something pencils, but she could also feel her sketchpad and clipboard wobbling, ready to topple to the floor as well. She quickly made an effort to save her sketchpad, and in the process managed to drop both her book sack and the clipboard.

A huge pile of "stuff" had now formed a pile in between Susan and the boy she had bumped into.

"Sorry about that," He said politely.

"Oh, it's alright," Susan responded with a sigh "It was mostly my fault." She watched as the other students tried dodging the scattered pencils that went rolling every which way. She flinched heavily at the sound of a loud crack. "There goes my four-b," Susan winced, recognizing the pencil by it's thickness and dark color.

[jacques]

Jacques blinked for a second as he looked at her. Bright colors, and a paint brush in her hair..huh. That was one of the more interesting array of clothes, and, judging by the colored pencils and a clipboard that now lay on the floor in front of his feet, she was something of an artist. Casting a fierce glare at a couple of 2 years who were snickering behind their friends, which scared them off, he bent down and started to scoop and seperate their stuff.

"Oh, it's alright, It was mostly my fault." She said, and then flinched as her pencil, by the looks of it it was one of her favorites, was snapped to bits under someones foot.

"Reparo," He said, pointing his wand at the broken pencil, mending it at once. "No, really, I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry." He said agian, then bent back down to the pile, his long arm resqueing another pencil before it was stepped on.

"Uh, yours or mine?" He was holding up a binder, blue in color, it looked like it might be his, but he wasn't quite sure. He opened it it up, and began to flip through the pages.

[Susan Matthews]

"Uh thanks," Susan smiled gratefully taking the good-as-new pencil from him. She followed the boy she'd run into and knelt down next to him, picking up as many pencils as she could hold. With half a dozen pencils now in her grasp and most of her books in a pile, sort the rest of their things.

"Uh, yours or mine?" He was holding up a binder, blue in color, it looked like it might be his, but he wasn't quite sure.

Susan looked up, brushing her bangs out of the way to see a blue binder in his hands. She crawled over next to him to examine the contents of the binder as well. He flipped to a page of Transfiguration notes. "Ah, Susan!" she said pointing to her own name at the top of the page, "This one's mine!" She smiled taking the binder from him and placing it in her own bag.


Not wanting the boy to feel guilty or obligated in anyway, she added to the previous argument of who's fault this was, or wasn't with a truce. "You know what? Let's just call it an accident, alright?," She smiled for a moment until she noticed the large rip in the boy's bag. "Reparo," she said, instantly fixing the rip in his bag, mostly caused by her. Probably the metal clip on her clipboard, she realized now, noticing the stray threads still attached to her clipboard.

[jacques]

"You know what? Let's just call it an accident, alright?,"

He gave a small smiled and nodded. "If you insist.." He said, a small laugh hidden in his words. After they had resqued all the items and put them in a pile, he began to pull out what he knew was his, leaving a small pile of unclaimed goods. Looking at his newly restored backpack, he gave her a grateful look. It would do about as much good to have a torn backpack then it would to have a holeless bucket to hold water. "Um, thank you." He said quietly.

Reaching out a foot to gather another bundle of binders, he saw an olive green one, he picked it up and stuffed it into his backpack. He offered her another binder, not sure who's this one was. Flipping it open, he saw his name, and stuffed it next to the green one. Smiling slightly, he held out his hand, "Hujambo Susan." He said, in fluent Swahili. Out of all the habits that he had picked up during his life in Africa, that was the hardest to get rid of. He blushed, and said quickly, "I'm Jacques.."

[Susan Matthews]

"Hujambo, Jacques!" Susan copied his introduction. She assumed it mean hello, or nice to meet you. She hoped she assumed right. Lately, Susan had been making a lot of assumptions. She knew the phrase on assumptions . . . and most of the time she didn't make a fool of herself. She put on her best smile and shook his hand confidently. "Gryffindor, right?" She recalled seeing him amid the rest of the red and gold clad students during meals. "Me too," she confirmed with a happy nod.

She quickly sorted through the "unclaimed" pile and pulled out all the drastically pink or purple binders that she was positive belonged to her. She also recognized a few her books, by the stars and hearts doodled all over the book covers. She replaced the majority of her things into her book sack, reducing their mess by more than half. She counted her pencils, twelve and twelve. Luckily she had found them all. Relieved, she found a safe pocket in the side of her book sack to keep them until she found the perfect place and subject to sketch.

"So where are you headed, Jacques?" she asked, making conversation.

[jacques]

Jacques gave her a friendly, though small, smile. He wasn't a really a smiling type, but his were warm when he gave them, or, as close as his scars would allow. Her greeting had pleased him, it was..nice that she had not scorned or thought it wierd to talk in Swahili, she had even copied it. Darko had given it a odd look, though Caitlin hadn't. Scooping what was left into his bag, he zipped it up with smooth, quick jerk. Standing up, he looked down and offered her a hand for politeness sake.

"I was planning on heading to the grounds..maybe hand out around the lake or the-" He decided that, 'forrbidden forest' might not be a good idea, and settled on, "The Quittich pitch. You?" He asked, tilting his head, his golden eyes bright with curiousity.

[Susan Matthews]

Susan gratefully, took Jacques' hand, using his body weight as anchor as she pulled herself to her feet. When they were both kneeling on the floor, Susan hadn't realized exactly how tall Jacques was. Now standing next to him, he towered over her with a good half a foot on his side. It was an interesting turn or events, considering Susan was normally the tall one when it came to her friends. At her feet once more, she bent quickly to scoop up her book sack and pile her sketchpad and clipboard into her arms again.

Susan listened to Jacques' response to her question on his intended destination. She smirked at his response. The lake was always a favorite to most students. The last part was also typical. What is it with boys and their passion for Quidditch? Susan thought stereotypically. Shifting her things on to her hip, she gestured with her free hand, saying, "I was headed to the courtyard, but I've been sketching a lot there lately. I might follow you, if you don't mind?" Susan put on her brightest smile, hoping beyond all hope that he would say yes. It was awfully lonely drawing by yourself, Susan hat learned. With Jacques it might be fun. Even though they had just met, Susan couldn't help but admire Jacques' strong and defined bone structure. She had the fleeting thought that maybe he wouldn't mind if she wanted sketch him.

She pulled her books closer to her chest, wondering about the outcome of her poised question, or if she should even ask it to begin with. Full of energy and eager for an answer, Susan began to subconsciously bounce on the balls of her feet. Each and every bounce bringing her closer to the overwhelming height of six foot-two that Jacques managed to pull off.

[jacques]

Jacques looked around for a minute, nervous. She was bouncing on her feet, each time coming closer to the top of his head. He hesitated, fallowing her progress in jumps. She was tall, taller then most people would be. On the other hand, so was he, though he was also dangerously thin, though strong. His golden eyes looked into hers, piercingly, searching for what she meant. Finding no threat, he averted his eyes, and, said in a quiet voice.

"If you want me to, uh, yes. I'll go." He looked at her calmly, a goast of a smile now on his lips. "Should we go then?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder to the end of the hall. She seemed eager, well, that was an understatment, she seemed extremely overeager. It didn't bother him, and he smiled in a slighty disconcerting way, his scars wrinkling on his cheeks, much like how a cat smiles, whiskers bunching.

((Should we move this or just leave it and continue it here?))

[Susan Matthews]

((OOC: We went here--
www.ragedsyphers.proboards100.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=lake&thread=1193787008))