 Lovely™ | Captain Hurted | Ariana's Bane | Resident Antagonist | Unparalleled Delight
"HURRY UUUUUUUUUUUP!"
The call came, perhaps predictably enough, from Achilles Zacharias, his hands cupped around his mouth for the extra volume, as if he really needed it. He'd boosted himself up for good measure too, so that he was half standing on the stone floor, and half kneeling on the bench, though it wasn't because he thought the extra elevation would make any sort of difference. That was more because he just couldn't bear sitting for much longer, had to do something to stop the buzzing in his limbs, and at least give the illusion of action.
Was it wise to go shouting over the sorting? Probably not, but the brain-to-action pipeline was lightning fast, and impulse control was a little thin on the ground for a boy who had spent the entire day confined to various places (train!!! carriages!!! house table!!!) and could not bear to be contained much longer.
His demands made, and acting like he'd done nothing more untoward than tap pointedly at his watch, Killy flopped back into his seat and picked up the knife and fork he'd just abandoned, resuming the act of his makeshift drum solo. It just wasn't the same, but he made do with the nearest plate, goblets, tureens, and water pitchers. Clink-clatter-clack-da-dink-dink-dink.
Killy hated feasts. Not because they were fundamentally unpleasant or anything; actually, he liked mixing with others and talking their ears off. It was the need to sit and stay put and eat whole entire meals in one go, none of which he'd ever been very good at. The start of term was the worst, with the added torture of the sorting. Why couldn't it be like a buffet? A party? Sit-down dinners were soooooo anti-Achilles.
Because his eyes were just as restless as the rest of him, he found himself glancing around, still clatter-clink-a-dink-dink-clacking, and noted a kid sitting just a short way down the table with a book.
"Hey you girl," Killy called, without breaking stride as his eyes flicked between the makeshift instrument and his housemate. Multi-tasking, see. "Whatcha reading?" Not that it mattered. Killy would be unlikely to know it, could in fact see the cover and knew this for sure. The point was that the more he did - drum, fidget, talk, foot-tap (for the hi-hat and bass drum, duh) - the more likely he would be to keep his seat. Still not terribly likely, mind.
Perhaps it was time to bow to the inevitable. Perhaps it was past time he made like some of the super unsociable kids at this school and went illegally roaming the school instead of attending feasts. Perhaps that would be better for everyone. Kidding! What was better for everyone else didn't really occur to him.
CLATTER-CLATTER-DINK-A-DINK-DINK-CRASH.
__________________ Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You?
You are Chocolate! |