Everyone Loves an Early Bird

[Susan Matthews]

It was a cold morning, and the common room was empty. With sketchpad and drawing pencils at hand, and of course her ever-present wand, Susan slid down the spiral banister, jumping to the floor at the last minute causing a light thump on the carpeted floors. Shivering in her thing pajamas, she pointed her wand at the long-since dead logs in the fireplace and said, "Inciendo!" New flames instantly burst into life, sending a wave of much-welcomed heat throughout the common room. Satisfied with the new temperature, Susan chose the fluffiest armchair in the common room and made herself comfortable. she pulled her cold feet underneath her and rolled her shoulders, loosening up before opening her sketch pad to a new, clean page.

She carefully chose a 3B pencil from her case, perfect for sketching. She started at once, knowing what she intended for her picture to be. She didn't mind that she was alone on this particular morning. She didn't have very many friends of her own house anyway, considering she didn't bump into them very much. Still cold, Susan paused in her drawing to pull the sleeves of her long sleeved T-shirt even further past her palms, to ensure that what body heat she did produce did not escape. She checked the large clock on the mantle above the fire place. At 7:30 A.M., she didn't expect anyone to be awake at this hour on a Saturday morning. Most people were catching up on the much needed sleep that was lost during the work week.

Susan was on a biological clock that insisted on waking her up every morning at seven, no matter what day of the week it happened to be. Sighing, she returned to her drawing, it would be another hour before she would head down to breakfast and and maybe another after that before anyone, stereotypically would venture down from their dormitories. For now, Susan was focused on her art, erasing and fixing the details of her drawing.

[jacques]

((I'll post if you want..though I'll delete if you want to meet knew people..is it okay?))

Jacques rolled out of bed. Literally. As in, turned over, and hit the ground with a loud, thunk. He groaned, and gracefully stood up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and gave a loud, purring yawn. Stalking to the bathroom, he ran cold water over his sleep logged head. His hair now soaked and chill water running down his spine, he shuddered happily, feeling awake and alive.

He then changed into a pair of baggy camo pants, and thin, white tee-shirt. He glanced out the window, and judging by the sun, it was early, around 7. He could hear the snores of his fellow room mates, and his eyes smiled. He, after living like a savage out in the jungle for half his life, and having no need of watches, no concept of time, that he hated watches, and anything that would put you on a secdaul. It was like putting iron bars on a window.

To his surprise, he saw Susan, sitting on a armchair, and sketching. He jumped from the top of the stairs to the bottom, landing like a feather, two feet and three fingers lightly touching the ground. Walking up to her chair, he rested his arms on the back, and said in a quiet voice, "Asubuhi Susan." It meant "morning" in Swahili, a common greeting. He hoped he hadn't startled her.

[Susan Matthews]

((OOC: You're fine, i was just bored one day. others can join still if they want to.))

Heard a thump from the boy's dormitory, but paid no attention. She assumed it was a boy thing, making thumps and bumps in the night, or in this case the morning. She had half a thought to go up and check to see that no one was hurt, but decided against it. She almost fainted upon thinking of what might be found up there. The fifth years' girl's dormitory was relatively neat and tidy, but boys weren't usually as obsessive compulsive as Susan when it came to cleaning. With the thump forgotten, Susan returned her attention to a particular log in the fireplace she was attempting to sketch. As of now it looked like a brown lump, and it wasn't improving.

"Asubuhi Susan."

"Eep!" Susan jumped, dropping her pencil in the process. She whirled her head around searching for the perpetrator, only to see Jacques's laughing face. "Jacques!" she reprimanded, jokingly, "Scare me to death, why don't you?" Susan glanced at the clock above the fireplace again. It wasn't even eight yet.

"What brings you out this early?" Susan asked. She rotated her body so that she could better see her fellow Gryffindor.

[jacques]

Susan jumped, and dropped her pencil when he spoke. She whirled around, and Jacques barely managed to keep a staight face, just the bare hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He dropped his head in mock shame, shaking it a tad. "I'm terribly sorry," He said teasingly, though his face was completely straight, even his piercing eyes stayed blank, he appeared so innocent a Judge would imedatly call him guilty. "On the other hand.." He rubbed his chin musingly, "That might mean I have to do CPR.." He mimiced doing it, and gave a small grin, hiding it with a sneeze.

"What brings you out this early?" She ask, turning around.

He walked out infront of her arm-chair, sagging down on a couch like a drowsy cat, and he was so tall that his legs dangled over the edge. Shrugging, he looked at out the widow, checking the time again. "Well," He said, his voice seriouser now, "They say the early lion gets the early deer." Noticing that the African saying was a tad it different, he quickly said, "Or, I mean, the early bird gets the early..worm." Which he found strange. Worms were cold in the morning, they wouldn't come out, they mainly went above ground when it was wet, anyways. HHe knew what it meant, but still found it rather...odd.

[Susan Matthews]

Susan laughed at Jacques' joke. She didn't quite understand, but didn't want to be rude. She did get a kick out of how he tried to play innocent. "Bless you!" Susan said, the sarcasm evident in her voice, in response to the false sneeze. She followed him with her eyes as he moved to a couch nearby. Susan rotated herself again so that wasn't straining to meet eyes with him. She closed her sketch pad, giving up on the horrid log. She placed the well-loved book of bound papers on the end table to her right. It barely fit, what with the huge lamp, but Susan managed to balance the book half-on half-off with out it falling to the floor.

Susan now turned to face Jacques properly, focusing all of her attention, just in time to catch the last of his words. He made a reference of the common phrase about the early bird. She noted the confusion in his voice. He seemed to think the first phrase he had said made more sense. Susan couldn't really care less how true the phrase was. It was one of those things you just "said". It didn't always make sense. Take for instance the the idiom, "a fork in the road." There isn't literally a "fork" in the "road", but a split that may or may not look like an actual fork in the road. The English language was a very confusing one indeed, Susan figured for herself.

"Have you ever noticed," Susan voiced her opinion on the confusedness of it all, "That according to the English language, you must cut a tree down before you can cut it up?" She paused for a moment, seriously thinking, "And for another thing, you always write things down, but then you must type things up." Susan was quiet for a moment, considering how confusing things could be. Not to mention how silly it was that most everyone seemed to go along with it all.