Post by Caira LaPointe on Dec 6, 2008 16:20:18 GMT -5
It had been a particularly uneventful day for Caira, as usual.
She woke to a morning filled with sunshine and warmth, spewing forth from her Westminster Arch Window, the golden rays dancing across her features, illuminating her hazel eyes and deep brown locks. Gracefully she had removed herself from her bed and went through the motions of her morning routine. She bathed, washed her hair, brushed her teeth, and finally she returned to her main bedroom chamber where she dressed for the day. A proper selection of deep, ruby robes with different shades of red, highlighting and lowlighting the garments. Finally throwing on, in a grandiose flutter of fabrics, an even deeper, almost crimson cloak with gold embellishments, she departed from her chamber and swept down the corridors, her office in sight.
Immediately upon entering the warm den she called her office, she removed her cloak, and to nobody in particular, she held it out to the side and dropped it in mid-walk. Before the cloak could hit the ground, a small >pop< was heard and Garamsythe had apparated into existence right in time to catch her garment. "Garamysthe is sorry for his lack of punctuality, Mistress." His voice sounded as if someone hadn't taken a drink in months, crackly, and raspy, but it had a low timbre to it as well. The emotion in there sounded as if he was slightly frightened that he may be punished for his marginal infraction of his arrival time.
She merely grazed her soft, silken, loose curls at her right shoulder, and gently tossing them back, she sat at her chair behind her desk. "My tea, Garamsythe." She said with an impartial tone of voice, readying a quill at her hand.
The house elf squeaked, and placed her cloak on the hook behind the door, and disapparated, then apparated back, balancing tray of sweets, a tea kettle, and a saucer and cup. He placed the tray at her desk, and then set down the saucer and teacup. Pouring her a nice steaming cup of black tea, he nodded to her and stood by, idly awaiting orders. After she had adjusted the flavor of her tea with a couple spoonfuls of sugar, she brought the cup to her lips to savor a long sip of her favorite tea. With her eyes closed, she allowed the hot liquid to slip past her tongue, and down her throat, invigorating her taste buds on the way. Inhaling deeply, a self-indulgent smile crossed her lips before she turned to Garamsythe.
"The elves will be reporting to me throughout the day, I trust? Any suspicious activity at all, I mean if a student so much as does ANY form of magic relating to one of the five elements; Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and of course, Metal. These traitors have been hiding amongst us long enough, and it is time to take off the masks." Her tone had evolved from a sweet, dulcet, effervescence of verbal thoughts to something a bit darker and monotone at the end. She continued to scrawl out something with her parchment as she talked with Garamsythe.
"On a different note, two Ministry officials will be arriving within the week. I shall require you to orchestrate their accommodations here at the castle. If the guest quarters are not perfectly immaculate, you shall assemble a team of elves to do so." She said, her eyes transfixed on the note she was finishing up. All Garamysthe did was stand there, ever-waiting for more orders.
She finally finished up her letter, or, invitation of sorts and held it up, to admire her penmanship and pomp.
She then tri-folded the parchment and placed it into an envelope, sealing it with her designated wax seal, the face of the envelope reading Ms. Paris Nowan in green ink. She handed the letter to the elf with explicit instructions on a swift and immediate delivery, and within moments, he was gone and she had resumed her paperwork. The letter would be delivered promptly as she requested, but it wouldn't be for a couple hours before she was sure Paris would read it, for it was early, and classes weren't for another hour. Taking another indulgent sip from her tea cup, she let go of her quill and it continued to write on its own.
All she had left to do was to wait for Paris to arrive. The topic of conversation would indeed not entail her academics, but something a bit more on the boundaries of allegiance. Dark Phoenix needed more "inside" allies, and Paris's lackadaisical and impartiality to the whole ordeal would not be tolerated any longer. Work was to be done, and if Paris knew what was right for her, this meeting would progress swimmingly.
She woke to a morning filled with sunshine and warmth, spewing forth from her Westminster Arch Window, the golden rays dancing across her features, illuminating her hazel eyes and deep brown locks. Gracefully she had removed herself from her bed and went through the motions of her morning routine. She bathed, washed her hair, brushed her teeth, and finally she returned to her main bedroom chamber where she dressed for the day. A proper selection of deep, ruby robes with different shades of red, highlighting and lowlighting the garments. Finally throwing on, in a grandiose flutter of fabrics, an even deeper, almost crimson cloak with gold embellishments, she departed from her chamber and swept down the corridors, her office in sight.
Immediately upon entering the warm den she called her office, she removed her cloak, and to nobody in particular, she held it out to the side and dropped it in mid-walk. Before the cloak could hit the ground, a small >pop< was heard and Garamsythe had apparated into existence right in time to catch her garment. "Garamysthe is sorry for his lack of punctuality, Mistress." His voice sounded as if someone hadn't taken a drink in months, crackly, and raspy, but it had a low timbre to it as well. The emotion in there sounded as if he was slightly frightened that he may be punished for his marginal infraction of his arrival time.
She merely grazed her soft, silken, loose curls at her right shoulder, and gently tossing them back, she sat at her chair behind her desk. "My tea, Garamsythe." She said with an impartial tone of voice, readying a quill at her hand.
The house elf squeaked, and placed her cloak on the hook behind the door, and disapparated, then apparated back, balancing tray of sweets, a tea kettle, and a saucer and cup. He placed the tray at her desk, and then set down the saucer and teacup. Pouring her a nice steaming cup of black tea, he nodded to her and stood by, idly awaiting orders. After she had adjusted the flavor of her tea with a couple spoonfuls of sugar, she brought the cup to her lips to savor a long sip of her favorite tea. With her eyes closed, she allowed the hot liquid to slip past her tongue, and down her throat, invigorating her taste buds on the way. Inhaling deeply, a self-indulgent smile crossed her lips before she turned to Garamsythe.
"The elves will be reporting to me throughout the day, I trust? Any suspicious activity at all, I mean if a student so much as does ANY form of magic relating to one of the five elements; Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and of course, Metal. These traitors have been hiding amongst us long enough, and it is time to take off the masks." Her tone had evolved from a sweet, dulcet, effervescence of verbal thoughts to something a bit darker and monotone at the end. She continued to scrawl out something with her parchment as she talked with Garamsythe.
"On a different note, two Ministry officials will be arriving within the week. I shall require you to orchestrate their accommodations here at the castle. If the guest quarters are not perfectly immaculate, you shall assemble a team of elves to do so." She said, her eyes transfixed on the note she was finishing up. All Garamysthe did was stand there, ever-waiting for more orders.
She finally finished up her letter, or, invitation of sorts and held it up, to admire her penmanship and pomp.
Dear Paris,
Greetings and Salutations! I hope this letter finds you in good health, for I am extending this invitation to you for tea and conversation in my office. There are some matters that I wish to discuss with you regarding your education while here at Hogwarts. Please do not delay, I shall be expecting you. If you have a scheduling conflict, please show this note to your Professors and everything should be cleared. Upon arriving at the gargoyle statue, please say the word: Glumbumble and it should grant you passage. I am in eager anticipation of your arrival.
Cordially,
Headmistress LaPointe
She then tri-folded the parchment and placed it into an envelope, sealing it with her designated wax seal, the face of the envelope reading Ms. Paris Nowan in green ink. She handed the letter to the elf with explicit instructions on a swift and immediate delivery, and within moments, he was gone and she had resumed her paperwork. The letter would be delivered promptly as she requested, but it wouldn't be for a couple hours before she was sure Paris would read it, for it was early, and classes weren't for another hour. Taking another indulgent sip from her tea cup, she let go of her quill and it continued to write on its own.
All she had left to do was to wait for Paris to arrive. The topic of conversation would indeed not entail her academics, but something a bit more on the boundaries of allegiance. Dark Phoenix needed more "inside" allies, and Paris's lackadaisical and impartiality to the whole ordeal would not be tolerated any longer. Work was to be done, and if Paris knew what was right for her, this meeting would progress swimmingly.