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Post by nina on Feb 13, 2008 22:57:49 GMT -5
The Entrance Hall, or the Grand Foyer as it was sometimes referred to was quiet, peaceful, serene. Everything was as it was supposed to be, the occasional painting strolled through the frames, a student here or there. That is, until the sound of small claws grasping at the floor at rapid intervals cut the silence. It was the sound of a cat trying to get away.
The cat, a fine tan color with a darker face, would appear frightened to anyone who was a cat person. It's sky blue eyes searched frantically for a way to escape. This was because it's owner had a sister. And she was chasing it. After the initial shock of seeing the Siamese cat cutting through the room, they would notice a girl in Hufflepuff robes chasing after it.
The girl, wand in her left hand, a pet carrier in her right, had been rather upset when she found that the house elves had delivered the twin's cats to the wrong dormitories. And each cat hated the other's owner. It was strange, but that's the way things worked. And Nina, the girl, would have to get back Narcisse's wretched beast before she could go get her beloved Fauchevelant.
Nina was a fair girl, with long blond hair she had tied back with a yellow ribbon. Her face, normally a picture of calm, was twisted with frustration. Her skin, despite the current lines on her face associated with her mood was smooth and clear of blemishes. Her eyes, framed by a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses, were a startlingly bright shade of grey.
Her wand hand thrust forward every few moments, as she was attempting to summon the beast back into the cage.
"Vanité! Come back 'ere! Don't you know your owner will be verry un'appy with you running away from me?"
Nina spoke with a light French accent, as she had almost mastered the English language, but she did have some troubles every now and then.
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Post by darko2 on Feb 13, 2008 23:36:00 GMT -5
Aurevoir, professeur!" He waved goodbye to professor Romanov as he left the classroom. He had just met with the new Transfiguration professor to get a better feel for his methods. As Transfiguration was one of his best subjects, he felt it would be prudent to get to know the professor and pick apart his teaching methods to grasp a better understanding of his lessons. Strolling down the stairs into the Great Hall, he passed many students that were seated at the House Tables, studying and conversing as per usual. He kept an eye out for the odd trouble maker here and there, but today there was no such business.
He exited the Great Hall on his way down to the Foyer. He was planning on going out onto the grounds and getting some fresh air after being cooped up in the castle all day. As he descended the staircaise into the foyer, he saw a young Hufflepuff girl blaze by him waving her wand madly in the air trying to summon a rogue cat as it scrambled across the stone floors.
Upon hearing her light, French accent, his ears perked up as if he had heard somebody call his name. Cocking his head to the side he withdrew his wand quickly as he moved toward the girl, a look of inquiry on his face.
He thrust his wand forward and yelled out: "Impedimenta!"
There was a small flash of red light as the spell shot forth from his wand and collided with the scurrying Persian. The cat was taken by the spell as it slowed to a halt. Sebastien walked over to the girl and smiled at her.
"Madamoiselle, I believe you were chasing this?" He said as he picked up the impeded cat. He noticed her fair features and was instantly reminded of his little sister, Genevieve. He wondered if she would look as pretty as the girl that stood before him. He wasted no time getting right to introductions as he offered her the cat, he offered up his name and status, as well as his free hand to shake.
"I'm Sebastien Bellefleur, Hufflepuff Prefect." He said with a smile. "I just transferred from Beauxbatons a couple months ago, I expect that you just arrived recently? He inquired in a friendly, conversational tone. His own light French accent poking through. He had known English for quite some time now, and sometimes had problems with tricky words, but for the most part, he sounded pretty fluent.
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Post by narcisse on Feb 13, 2008 23:56:51 GMT -5
“Crétin matou!”
The deliciously haughty voice of Narcisse cried out as he walked up the stairs, the cat floating just above him. It was rare to see Narcisse speak so angrily, as he thought it contorted his lips too much and made them look more average. Even his eyes were slightly narrowed as he walked up the stairs. He wore his school robes, though they were slightly modified. Every piece of clothing that he had was made of a softer material, and the symbol of the House of Slytherin was much more intricately sewn into his clothes, with an archaic, yet absolutely wondrous design. Though if one noticed, he allowed his left sleeve to droop somewhat sloppily over the back of his hand. Something very odd of him to do…but then again, the reason it was that way was the cause of his anger. It was also odd that he carried his equally refined wand out and about in the halls, but then again it was necessary to maintain the spell on the cat.
Before he walked any further however, he brought his hand back up and flicked his left wrist to cause the sleeve to jump back slightly. And through his flaring eyes he could see the cut across the back of his hand, it had grown slightly puffy and the blood looked to be a delicate shade of pinkish red. He most certainly could not allow others to see this flaw, this…catastrophe. Luckily, after he had gotten rid of this burden he could go back to his room and apply some of his mothers healing anti-scar creams…something he carried everywhere.
He absolutely hated his sister’s cat…and as he walked he thought that he would most definitely write his mother to have her send to the school to beat their house-elves severely for this mix-up! Even as he thought it he looked to the Egyptian Mau, his sister’s cat, Fauchavelent with contempt. His sister’s cat absolutely hated Narcisse, just as Vanité hated Vivienne. Of course, Vanité was almost exactly like his owner, haughty, vain, but deliciously clever. Perhaps Narcisse would’ve already slain the cat if his sister did not love it so much…for it was as obscure as Vivienne herself.
Though with the brusque thought he pushed his sleeve back down, covering his cut, even if a bit sloppily. And as he turned into the foyer there was his sister...And…Vanité! Though his precious Siamese was in the hands of a person he did not know, someone who had spoken just before he got here. Though he did not care, he was ready to be rid of this cat…he would not see the cut surely.
“Take your stupid feline,” Narcisse said in a controlled voice, despite the hotness behind his eyes….then he turned to the other boy, “And not to be rude…but what are you doing with my cat….”
He trailed off, noting Vanité’s apparent faintness, he flicked his wand, releasing the cat…which effectively began to run away. Though he didn’t care it was now his sister’s problem. There were very few things that Narcisse cared about almost…almost as much as himself, and one was his cat. Vanité had been with him for quite some years, and it was the only animal he would associate himself with. Despite Sebastien’s age, and prefect symbol upon his robes Narcisse spoke to him with a stonily cold, yet formal voice; reminiscent of his mother, Delphine, when she spoke in anger.
“And why is my precious Vanité so limp!”
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Post by mallan on Feb 14, 2008 0:28:07 GMT -5
Sitting against a pillar, Mallan was busy sketching a detailed image of one of the intricate pillars. Shading and smearing as necessary to add shading to his pencil sketches. He had started sketching almost five years ago and had to admit that he was rather good. Well, at least he was sketching until a ruckus hit the room. It seemed that there was a cat running around. Mallan watched at first and was quickly relieved to see that Sebastien had caught the cat. With a few more moments of sketching another cat went running through the foyer. This time however, Sebastien was distracted with his newfound company so Mallan decided to take it upon himself to capture the Egyptian Mau, as he believed it was. "Two cats running loose within minutes of each other, interesting. I wonder if this is an omen." Mallan thought.
Setting his sketching pad and pencil down as he stood, Mallan searched the room for the cat. Mallan headed in the direction of the cat after seeing it run past a display stand. Picking up his pace, he quickly walked towards the cat offering friendly gestures to lure the cat and calm it. Before he thought the cat would dart he focused his mind and pulled his mental energy together. He was still new to magic and so did not even consider pulling out his wand. With enough energy to perform the task he had in mind he envisioned the cats legs being stuck to the ground and as he did tendrils of telekinetic force grasped the cats legs; all four of them.
As he drew closer to the cat, Mallan got on his knees and held out a hand, palm up, signifying friendliness to the cat. To everyone else's eyes it appeared as if the cat was merely waiting for Mallan; not being held to the spot. Moving himself to arms reach he slowly moved his hand towards the cat. Mallan knew that cats did not like strangers normally and was not sure what this cat was capable of and decided to err on the side of caution rather than have the cat bite him. Noticing that the cat had calmed down since the frantic realization of being stuck to the ground, Mallan pet the cat a couple times before grabbing the Egyptian Mau gently and unleashing the telekinetic binds. Holding the cat firmly but gently, Mallan made his way to the newcomers and owners of the cat from the girl’s apparent expression of worry. As he grew close he could hear the accents in their voices as well as Sebastien’s and without thinking began speaking in French.
Hé là-bas Sebastien, la prise agréable il y a un moment. (Mallan gave a "whatsup" nod as Sebastien looked his way and then turned to face the new girl) Excuser me manque, ce chat vous appartient ? Je suis Mallan Baine, le Préfet de Gryffindor. (As he said the last part, Mallan looked to both of the newcomers instead of just the girl)
((ooc: In English: Hey there Sebastien, nice catch a moment ago. Excuse me miss, does this cat belong to you? I am Mallan Baine, Gryffindor Prefect. ))
Holding the cat out towards the girl, since she seemed the most worried about the wanderings of the Egyptian Mau, Mallan smiled. He was always glad to feel useful; it made him feel like there was a reason for his existence and a reason to be talking to them now. He took a moment while waiting for the girl to memorize their descriptions. In doing so, Mallan thought "She seems nice; unlike him." Still holding the cat, Mallan waited patiently for the both of them to introduce themselves.
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Post by nina on Feb 14, 2008 1:09:50 GMT -5
Nina was relieved when the Prefect, whom she had thought familiar, as he was a Hufflepuff, caught that demonic cat of Narcisse's. She couldn't help but to admire him. He was so very helpful to her, a complete stanger...That was more than her own family would have done for her.
"Madamoiselle, I believe you were chasing this?"
Nina merely nodded as he continued,
"I'm Sebastien Bellefleur, Hufflepuff Prefect. I just transferred from Beauxbatons a couple months ago, I expect that you just arrived recently."
Nina smiled, she probably had seen him before, they attended the same school previously. She gave him a small, but slightly awkward curtsey, putting away her wand so that she could offer him a hand in return.
"My name is Nina Eraclea, Hufflepuff Fourth year. And yes, my brother and I just arrived today. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Before her smile had time to fade naturally, it was brought down by the heinous cries of her dear brother, Narcisse. As she turned, Nina let out a cry when he had been constricting Fauchevelant with magic.
“Take your stupid feline. And not to be rude…but what are you doing with my cat….”
"Fauchevelant is much smarter than your brutish cat! I'll have you know -"
He then dropped her beloved cat uncerimoniously to the floor, where he leapt away before she could react. Luckily, a third boy walked up, who was fluent in french, not to mention had her cat in hand. It seemed everyone here was a dramatic foil to her family, and she felt a joy deep within her soul.
"Excuser me manque, ce chat vous appartient? Je suis Mallan Baine, le Préfet de Gryffindor."
Nina, having set down Narcisse's cat carrier upon the floor, scooped up her feline companion, and then offered her hand to the Gryffindor Prefect.
"Merci beaucoup, monsieur. Excuser mon frère, il est toujours comme ceci. Mon nom est Nina Eraclea. Heureux pour vous rencontrer."
((Translation: Thank you very much, sir. Excuse my brother, he is always like that. My name is Nina Eraclea. Plesed to meet you.))
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Post by darko2 on Feb 14, 2008 2:05:44 GMT -5
As fast as he had subdued the renagade cat and brought it over to the young, French, Hufflepuff, discord broke out. He heard the most horrendous noise of an angry younger male approaching as he shouted in Sebastien's native language. He craned his neck with an arched eyebrow to allow himself to witness the entrance of this loud and boistrous student. Upon seeing the color of the robes, Sebastien let his observations and opinions of the Slytherin House run through his mind.
Of course, Slytherin... He thought with a subtle smirk.
Turning his attention away from Nina and over to presumably what seemed to be her brother, he spoke.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Monsieur Eraclea, I was just assisting your sister with retrieving this cat." He said trying his best to ignore the arrogant comments he had been making about what he was doing with his cat.
“And why is my precious Vanité so limp!”
"Oh, I'm sorry, it's only impeded." Sebastien set the cat down on the ground and flourished his wand again, performing the Ennervate charm, reviving the cat back to its vivacious self. He had just finished with the charm when he heard a male voice behind him. It was Mallan Baine, Gryffindor Prefect.
Somewhere during all of this heinous commotion, with Nina's brother busting in like a diva and Mallan rescuing her cat which had been with her brother, Sebastien cast Mallan a look that returned the gesture he had given him.
Sebastien turned his gaze back towards the demanding Slytherin and contemplated him for a second. He looked very well tailored as his uniform seemed to be custom made, or altered, he was sure it was one of the two as he noted the Slytherin insignia looked a bit more archaic.
"Escusez, Did you perhaps, alter your school uniform?" Sebastien asked with his eyes narrowed at the young Slytherin. He was not exactly sure if this was against the rules, if this was however, he would find out and be sure to deduct appropriate points. Before the boy could give a response, he decided to introduce himself.
"I'm Sebastien Bellefleur, Hufflepuff Prefect. I just met your sister Nina. I'm from Beauxbatons as well. And you are?" He asked the boy, hoping that he would recieve a more pleasant response.
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Post by narcisse on Feb 14, 2008 18:15:49 GMT -5
Prefects, he thought to himself. That was not so bad after all. He had also heard the name Bellefleur before. It was simply in passing however, and if not for his superb memory it might not have been enough to even really remember. Narcisse was never rude on purpose, but his haughty and vain personality tended to rub the wrong way on people. He was not as gifted as his mother in the arts of the parlor, not with those that he felt beneath him anyway. Those he thought were equals were usually his friends, and it was them that got to see his nicer, lighter side.
Though the thought was lost to him as his eyes flared slightly, his precious Vanité! Impeded! Of all things, and he was one who hailed from Beauxbatons too! However, he did not make a deal of it, he was a person of gravity, being a Prefect, and he wasn’t inherently ugly in formalities or even physical looks, so he merely petted his precious cat. The haughty feline curled and rubbed against his legs, those steely blue eyes staring at everyone else with an imperious air. The cat had learned from his master, after all…even acquiring his belittling stares.
Narcisse looked to the Gryffindor boy who had stated he too was a prefect, though he had little interest in him, as his sister began to speak. The boy’s eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch as his sister spoke of he, Narcisse, always being like “that” whatever “that” could mean. It slightly angered him that she would speak ill of him as if he were some sort of barbarous fool… In front of others too! To strangers! No wonder their mother was always shouting at her. Vanité too caught onto the words, being an intelligent cat like most in the wizarding world, and stared at her coldly; though just being reunited with his master he did not stray away.
He straightened himself, making sure his sleeve still covered the unsightly cut. His blonde hair, which was not overly long nor terribly short, but well kept and kept in a nice style by some of his newly bought gel. He though to simply leave now, but after Mallan and Sebastien had gotten over their random neck spasms, the Hufflepuff Prefect spoke to him.
"Escusez, Did you perhaps, alter your school uniform?"
Narcisse looked to himself, so they noticed how much nicer he looked then? And when he parted those delicate lips to answer he was cut off…
"I'm Sebastien Bellefleur, Hufflepuff Prefect. I just met your sister Nina. I'm from Beauxbatons as well. And you are?"
His notion as confirmed as Sebastien spoke, so he had attended Beauxbatons as well. But yet he spoke as if he did not know the Eraclea name? How that was possible he did not know, everyone who was anyone knew the name and the gravity it carried: Even on an international level. Obviously his sister would have mentioned their surname when she introduced herself? And yet he spoke to Narcisse in such a manner? Though as he thought about it he might have been over sensitive due to the stress of the cut on his hand….a possibility, for it did trouble him to have that imperfection on himself while there were people present. Though perhaps his sister had been a fool not to mention their momentous name…and if that were the case it would be rectified now.
“It is nice to meet you, Sebastien,” he began with a slightly lighter tone, though one that expressed his haughty air, his noble way of speaking in such an arrogantly elegant manner, “I am Narcisse Eraclea.”
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Post by mallan on Feb 15, 2008 1:07:05 GMT -5
Putting on his best smile, Mallan stood there somewhat unsure of himself as to whether or not he should remain. As the girl rose however, he felt more welcomed when she introduced herself as Nina Eraclea and extended her hand in an offer of greeting. Mallan always felt awkward when a girl offered him their hand; he knew he should, as a chivalrous man, take her hand gently and bow forward to kiss it, but he also felt that that was too forward. The decisive thoughts ran through his mind in a split second. Due to the French being spoken around by them all, he subconsciously was reminded of his godmother and her strict manners and etiquette and was unaware of himself taking her hand and leaning down to gently kiss it until it was already done. Mallan hid his self shock as he replied to her in French.
Un plaisir pour rencontrer vous Manque Nina Eraclea.
((ooc: In English: A pleasure to meet you Miss Nina Eraclea.))
If Sebastien had not been there Mallan would have grown more and more uncomfortable. Surely, he knew that they would need a tour of the Hogwarts and its grounds but he knew that he would not be able to give a proper tour as he was still fairly new to the school himself. As Sebastien spoke, and made it sound that he would not leave, Mallan felt more in control of the situation and any wavering in his posture left. Mallan merely listened to Sebastien’s comment about the other boy’s school uniform for he was still learning the full duties of his prefect status. If one was to examine the two they would notice that Mallan deferred his control to Sebastien. Mallan had missed the first interaction and was not sure if he heard a bit of indignation in Sebastien’s voice or not; he decided it was mere justness in reference to prefect duties instead of the first. Mallan’s opinion switched back to the first as he noticed that Sebastien did not wait for the Slytherin boy to reply.
Listening to Narcisse’s introduction, Mallan could not help but straighten his posture into one more proud as if Narcisse’s voice alone caused the scene to become courtly. Mallan was unaware of his posture change but instantly realized at how perfect the boys looks seemed to be. It was obvious to Mallan that Narcisse spent a great deal of time working to look his best. Even though the boy’s voice seemed haughty, he was polite. Mallan quickly changed his view of the boy from that of a stuck up, pompous prick to that of a proud nobleman.
That was until Mallan realized that Narcisse had completely ignored him. There was nothing worse in Mallan's mind than to ignore him and at that moment Mallan’s entire opinion of the boy shifted back to his first with added insult. “Who does he think he is?!” Mallan practically bellowed inside his own head. “This boy needs to be taught a harsh lesson,” Mallan mentally told himself. The best way that Mallan could think of was to cause problems between Narcisse and his cat. Well, it was the best way for vengeance anyhow. Taking a few moments, Mallan memorized the position of Narcisse and his cat. With a proud indignation of his own, Mallan turned to face Nina; the most definite nicer of the two, and spoke again in French, purposefully making it clear that the indignation in his voice was for Narcisse and not the lovely Nina.
Mademoiselle Nina Eraclea, il me ferait la grande honneur si vous vous êtes permis m'accompagner sur une tournée de Hogwarts.
((ooc: In English: Miss Nina Eraclea, it would do me great honor if you allowed yourself to accompany me on a tour of Hogwarts.))
After addressing her, Mallan turned to Sebastien and gave him a "leave of absence" formal nod. Before he turned to leave though, Mallan pulled his telekinetic power and seized the cat. Turning and taking a step to begin his tour for Nina, Mallan turned he head towards Nina keeping Narcisse well out of his view and waited for Nina to follow. With the memorized picture of Narcisse and his cat, Mallan took control of the cat’s front legs, pressing down on the paws to force the claws to come out and had the cat attack its owner’s legs viciously a few times as he had seen other cats fight. After a couple scratches, Mallan mentally pulled the cats tail and released control so that it most likely would want to run. Mallan continued to wait, facing Nina with a pleasant smile as to reassure her that he meant no ill will towards her.
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Post by nina on Feb 15, 2008 2:17:12 GMT -5
Nina had been somewhat relieved that Sebastien had been able to handle Narcisse so well. He spoke with the eloquence as though he just knew that the boy had a serpent in his pocket, that was of course, their Mother. It did shock her, only minutely as far as her face would show, that Narcisse had been more pleasant than to most people whom had ever been seen holding something that belonged to him. Perhaps it was because the Hufflepuff prefect had come from the same school as the two of them.
Then Mallan, the Gryffindor prefect, had also done something shocking. While Nina had never really cared about how people greeted her, he had done it in the way her Mother had said was the only respectable way. He then stood and began to flatter her, which was begining to tinge pink. She couldn't help but to think to herself, "My word, I don't think I've ever met someone...so...charming!"
"Un plaisir pour rencontrer vous Manque Nina Eraclea. Mademoiselle Nina Eraclea, il me ferait la grande honneur si vous vous êtes permis m'accompagner sur une tournée de Hogwarts."
She did need to take a tour, as she only knew the ground floor of the school so far, so Nina was more than happy to oblige. Nina offered up her arm so that Mallan could lead her around.
"J'aimerais cela, Monsieur Mallan. Sebastien, c'était belle réunion vous. Narcisse, je vous verrai autour."
((Translation: I would love that, Mister Mallan. Sebastien, it was lovely meeting you. Narcisse, I will see you around.))
It was then that Narcisse's cat, the bane of Nina's existence, began doing something quite like Fauchevelant, who resided comfortably in the crook of her right arm. It was clawing at his precious pants. Nina could not help but to let out a little laugh before adding her own commentary.
"Delphine would throw a fit right now. I wonder what she would do, though..The cat is one of the few things Narcisse loves other than himself. It would be interesting to watch the dilemma bounce around inside of her head..."
"Je t'ai dit que le chat était mauvais! Mais avez-vous écouté? No. Vivienne, ne sont pas idiot vous a dit. Me croire maintenant?"
((Translation: I told you that cat was evil! But did you listen? No. Vivienne, do not be foolish you said. Believe me now?))
She then turned her head back to Mallan with a renewed smile upon her face. She found the situation quite humorous, after all, if it was the inverse, Narcisse would be laughing at her, and then write to their Mother, so she could partake in his mirth.
"Nous?"
((Translation: Shall we?))
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Post by darko2 on Feb 16, 2008 12:37:06 GMT -5
With several interactions occurring, Mallan offering Nina a tour, Sebastien trying to help Nina, but being interrupted by Narcisse, Narcisse now engaging him in conversation, Sebastien caught clips of the conversation going on in French to his right. It seemed that Nina would take up Mallan on his offer. Before responding to Narcisse, he turned to face Nina and Mallan.
"Well, It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Madame Eraclea, our paths will cross once again, I'm sure. See you in the common room." He said with a playful wink. He waved goodbye to Mallan and gave him a dutiful nod of allegiance and then turned his sights back on Narcisse.
"Monsieur Eraclea, It is indeed a pleasure to meet you. I believe I may have heard the name once or twice while attending Beauxbatons, however, the gap in age makes me sort of hazy on the subject. I was also very involved in the school Quidditch team, and my clique at the time....you've heard of us? We called ourselves L'elite." He said playfully to the young Slytherin.
Just then, Narcisse's precious cat seemed to turn on him. With a horrible screeching noise, the cat began to claw at Narcisse's legs as if they were scratching posts. Obviously this caused Narcisse to flip out and grow even more unpleasant as he verbally accused each one of them of cursing his beloved feline.
"Pas moi..." He said backing up and putting his hands up. He had long since replaced his wand in his robes after Ennervating the cat out of its Impeded state.
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Post by narcisse on Feb 16, 2008 13:28:20 GMT -5
Narcisse had been only mildly interested in how Mallan had invited his sister upon a tour, and not himself. It was rude, and why would anyone choose to spend time with her over him? Looked at the way she was dressed, in that horrid yellow and black; like some great big bumble bee. He did not comment on it however, for though Mallan was not ugly, which added some points into Narcisse’s book, he seemed a bit foolish. Who would want to help that ugly cat of hers? The French boy annoyed him as well, turning in the middle of their conversation to speak a farewell to his sister, something that Narcisse did not do. Normally he was nicer to his sister than to most people, but he had been placed in quite the mood by her cat.
It was then that he felt a tug and heard a rip of his pants, and to his great surprise, which resulted in an unseemly shout on his part, he jumped back. He did not feel any pain on his legs, so his precious Vanité had not cut them. But his vibrant gray eyes looked down to Vanité with wild surprise. What was his cat doing?!? He had never struck out at Narcisse, not even in his kitten stages had he ever dared to raise a claw to the precious son of Delphine! It was Nina that he always tormented, not his master! Not to mention the hurt he felt instantly from the attack, for Vanité was one of the few things he loved almost as much as he did his mother and himself! He was his ever-companion!
Impossible!
Just as quickly as the pain of betrayal came across his face, he heard his sister speak….she always had said the cat was evil. Of course, she would, Vanité had always sought to harm her and her grotesque and ugly feline. But never had Vanité raised a claw to him, and he certainly had no reason to do so now…there was only one solution to this. He had been cursed! It was the only reason he would have lost his mind enough to do so! Which of them had done this to his cat? It could not have been Sebastien, he had not even drawn a wand…perhaps the other boy when he had turned his back? Or had his own sister cursed him before Narcisse had arrived? It was a possibility, she would think it a cruel joke.
“Un de vous l'a maudit!” (Translation: One of you must have cursed him!)
His voice was a terrible haughty indignance, its noble air slightly vanishing in his anger. It was a rare occasion for Narcisse to get angry, but when he did it was not a pleasant experience. As he looked down again however, he noted how his cat had run. He heard the hissing of the cat as he had done so, the poor thing, losing its mind enough to touch its master. He would be writing his mother about this. He was breathing somewhat heavily in his reaction, and he looked around and noted how undignified he must have looked. It was not seemly, what would his mother say? Granted she would probably comfort him as she always did, then remind him he needed to control himself. He stared at them as they started to walk away, his lip curling but in the end he merely raised his left hand, on instinct and brought it to fix his hair.
It was then to his horror that he remembered the cut, which had gotten a bit puffier, for his skin was delicate and sensitive to such things; for they did not happen often. As quickly as he could he covered it back up, and then took his composure once more, he did not answer Sebastien, for he had forgotten what he had said. He had been grievously insulted and he would not let that go easily, he would be sure to definitely to heinously interrogate his sister, but such things were not for the public…that is what his Mother would have said.
“I think I may take my leave now,” he said to Sebastien, but he did not turn, it was rude to turn your back on someone after speaking them a farewell.
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Post by mallan on Feb 17, 2008 21:23:17 GMT -5
As Nina extender her arm for Mallan, Narcisse, as Nina finally brought to Mallan’s attention, raised his voice in anger accusing one of them of cursing his cat. There was no way for him to know that Mallan had done what he did but the thought that the boy would turn around and immediately condemn one of them as the culprit irritated Mallan even further. As far as Mallan was concerned, if there was no proof of an incident then it was not prudent to assume someone to be at fault. “This boy thinks himself so perfect that not even his cat can do wrong; unbelievable!” Mallan raged in his head. However, now that the Slytherin had acknowledged Mallan, even though it was with accusation, Mallan felt like he could no longer walk away without saying something. In English, Mallan turned to Narcisse, and replied with a firm and heated voice without raising his volume.
I can assure you Mister Narcisse Eraclea; no one here has performed the task you unjustly insinuate and before you continue with your insults I will take my leave. Good day.
Mallan had specifically chosen English so that anyone overhearing his words would know that a prefect was not on good terms with someone. Mallan knew that what he said was not a lie. Narcisse accused them of performing a curse. Mallan was the accused but he did not even have knowledge of a curse that would perform as acted out by the cat. Hopefully the words would baffle Narcisse and cause him to rethink a few things; however, Mallan was sure that the boy would find some other way to blame someone else.
Finishing with his words, Mallan turned back towards Nina wiping away the disdain and anger and attempted a smile for her as he wrapped his arm around hers. Leading her back to where he had left his belongings he did not speak so that he could take those few moments to clear his mind. It would be dreadful to maintain the anger he held for the boy and subconsciously direct it to the innocent Nina. As much as he tried a tinge of it still lingered and he was sure Nina knew.
Reaching his sketching pad and other sketching properties, Mallan let go of Nina’s arm and packed them up. He purposefully made a display of packing his sketch away so that if Nina was paying any mind she might be intrigued and perhaps inquire about his ability. This, at least, would direct the conversation away from his frustration without him seeming arrogant about his work. Well, he was proud of his work and he did have to admit it was rather good. Though Mallan did not want to force her into the subject if she did wish to listen or even worse if the subject was a sour point in her past. Standing back up with everything in his bag, Mallan took Nina’s arm again and headed for her common room.
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Post by nina on Feb 17, 2008 22:21:22 GMT -5
The young Eraclea girl couldn't help but to laugh inwardly as Sebastien winked at her, as she knew it was innocent. In fact, she was relieved to have such a nice person in her house. If Narcisse cared, he would have been worried that she was about to be spirited away by a complete stranger in an unfamiliar school, in a country they barely were accostomed to staying in. However, he cared little for his sister, and probably wondered why their mother didn't send her away. Suddenly snapped to attention, Nina couldn't help but to have rolled her eyes at the accusation, her brother was always very quick to pass judgement. Nothing was ever his fault, though even more so when Mommy Dearest was around. She would coddle her precious baby boy until the day she died, though the day Nina turned seventeen, all of the so-called guardianship would end promptly.
As she and Mallan walked away, she did happen to say, under her breath, "Perhaps the cat finally came to it's senses and realized mine has been right all this time." Fauchevelant seemed to purr in agreement with the statement, or perhaps thought that the Siamese had stolen his idea. It was then when had Mallan released her arm, which she had at first thought he was done with the tour, having only provided her a very beneficient escape from her, as she normally put it, "Charm-deficient" brother, but he was picking up sketchbooks. The drawings that graced the surface of the exposed sheets of paper were much better than most she had ever seen, barring (for the most part) the Louvre, of course. She decided to speak in English, as it might be easier for the Gryffindor Prefect.
"Did you draw those?"
Mentally, Nina kicked herself, "Of course he drew those, you dunderhead. What did you think, he got people to sketch things and then carried them around to look at in odd places, like behind these columns?" However, she was glad that if he began to steer the conversation, however rocky she had just started it, towards art, she would be able to make it a two-way conversation. Sometimes, having an elective class on art wasn't such a bad thing. While he would more than likely be more knowledgable, she knew the big names, like Da Vinci, Goya, Monet, and the like. She was a rather big fan of Edward Hopper and Jan Van Eyke herself, and was one of the few people who thought the Mona Lisa to be a rather ugly piece of work.
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Post by darko2 on Feb 18, 2008 0:50:50 GMT -5
Sebastien stood back as Mallan and Nina decided to go off together on a tour of Hogwarts. He watched as Mallan became obviously quite offended at the remark made by Narcisse. The fact that Mallan had spoken in English signified to Sebastien that he was truly offended and wanted to make it known that a prefect scorned can be a dangerous thing. Sebastien agreed with Mallan inwardly that a young student such as Narcisse should not be making such brash and blatant accusations, but decided that he would probably find that what Narcisse had done to his uniform would be against Hogwarts rules, therefore retribution would be served.
Politely stepping back and glancing from Mallan and Nina, to Narcisse and his precious cat, Sebastien spoke.
"Mallan, take good care of my new Hufflepuff, I shall see you in the commonroom Nina. As for you, Monsieur Narcisse, I suggest you take a page from the book of tact and be sure to think before you make such a terrible accusation again." He said sagaciously with an underlying warning tone as he turned on heel and strode from the Foyer. He was intending to pursue that fresh air one way or another, so he made his way down the lawns toward the Quidditch pitch for a nice fly.
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Post by narcisse on Feb 18, 2008 1:14:40 GMT -5
Those eyes turned to a frosty shade, and just after Mallan spoke they fell upon him with full chilling force. He did not reply to him, he did not have to justify himself to such trash. And such trash that thought to touch an Eraclea?!? Though the more infuriating thing was that his sister allowed it. He was not in the least bit surprised; she often enjoyed the company of lesser people. He merely looked for a moment as they walked away, off to give her the tour. It was then that he turned back to Sebastien, whom he noticed had not given him the courtesy of offering Narcisse a good-bye. In fact, he decided to hop on the bandwagon of commenting how tactless he was?
If Nina might have looked back to Narcisse she would have notice a flaring in his eyes, and a pursing of his lips, as well as the tightening of his face. Very reminiscent of their mother, Delphine, though she rarely was angered. No, his mother was not nearly as touchy as he was. But he could hardly control his tongue when someone slighted him so forwardly. He, Narcisse Maximilien Eraclea, tactless? Of course, Narcisse realized the boy was a prefect, and he was older, he did look to be seventeen. But Narcisse was an Eraclea, and he straightened himself in that indignant fury.
In fact, his mother might have been proud at the level of adult he looked. It was custom that people with “noble” blood, were to grow up. It was not as bad now as it was in the elder days, but he was still somewhat mature for his age, even if vain and haughty. Though even in this indignant fury, he was thinking what he might say. He was a prefect, but Narcisse was of a family that did not back down to others. For he thought himself better than they, even though he might have been new in a foreign place.
And as Sebastien turned on his heel, the words would come out of Narcisse’s mouth, whether the Prefect heard them or not would depend on the speed of his gait and readiness to leave. Narcisse spoke in a level tone, refusing to raise his voice in the ways that some did. He was taught well by his mother to always keep his noble visage.
“Speaking of tact,” he said mustering the haughtiest voice he was capable of, “Perhaps you should tear out the section on insubordination, and learn how to speak to your betters, Monsieur Bellefleur.”
As soon as he had spoken his words, the young man turned on his heels and rose his head up high. His robes flowed elegantly as he began to walk away. Luckily he had checked the handbook, and his uniform met all the requirements, and simply because he used finer material and a more decorative Slytherin Crest, meant nothing. It worried him in the slightest of degrees, did they truly think he and his mother a fool?
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