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sweetpinkpixie · 01-04-2025, 08:21 AM

It took very little time for her surroundings to fade into a state beyond white noise, which was also incredibly lucky because it meant the loud arrival of her housemate and his subsequent rhythmic showcase fell on disengaged ears. It took less than a paragraph for the bitter taste hit the back of her throat again, sharp and sour, like chewing on a spoiled lemon - not that she knew from personal experience. It stuck there, stubborn and unpleasant, no matter how many times she tried to swallow and made her scrunch her face as she finished the page and turned swiftly to the next and coughed as though she had inhaled a bout of smoke suddenly. Pausing on the particular passage, Iris reached into her pocket for one of the five colored pencils she carried on her person and lightly colored over a couple of lines in emerald green.

As she tucked the writing implement away, she thought she heard someone possibly speaking to her nearby - the clue being that they were inquiring about reading and, as far as she had observed, she was the only one doing so. She pushed her glasses up as she turned her head towards the noise and then blinked several times in confusion because this housemate was holding a knife and fork and using them in a very peculiar way.

...also calling her 'you girl' which likewise caused a stern wrinkle to her nose and dulled the bitter taste upon her tongue.

"It's Iris," she corrected him with a tut of the head, which dislodged her bookmark and sent it fluttering to the ground like whirligigs seeds. "Not you girl, if you please." She paused once more to eye him up and down over the rim of her glasses and lingered her gaze upon the fork for no particular reason. "A book called The Bone Marrow Thieves. It follows a group of Indigenous people in a dystopian future with a widespread plague that causes people to lose the ability to dream." Which was putting things lightly and a real disservice to the profound themes and storytelling elements, especially the passages she had been so rudely interrupted reading, but she was speaking to someone holding a knife and fork without any intention of using them for their intended use. "Are you...practicing your audition of orchestra or dulling that knife and fork for the rhythmic sport of it?"

01-04-2025, 08:21 AM	#6 (permalink)
sweetpinkpixie Wizarding World RPG Admin Gladrags Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor Leprechaun Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths Posts: 40,956 Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox Ravenclaw Graduated Hogwarts RPG Name: Briallen Ashburry-Hawthorne Gryffindor Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden Hufflepuff Fifth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden Ravenclaw Fifth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington Slytherin Fourth Year Ministry Department Head: Charles Hollingberry Minister's Office Ministry Department Head: Airey Flamsteed Mysteries Diagon Alley Proprietor: Victor García Massey Ollivanders x12 x12	huzzah for the purple text astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK \| & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf It took very little time for her surroundings to fade into a state beyond white noise, which was also incredibly lucky because it meant the loud arrival of her housemate and his subsequent rhythmic showcase fell on disengaged ears. It took less than a paragraph for the bitter taste hit the back of her throat again, sharp and sour, like chewing on a spoiled lemon - not that she knew from personal experience. It stuck there, stubborn and unpleasant, no matter how many times she tried to swallow and made her scrunch her face as she finished the page and turned swiftly to the next and coughed as though she had inhaled a bout of smoke suddenly. Pausing on the particular passage, Iris reached into her pocket for one of the five colored pencils she carried on her person and lightly colored over a couple of lines in emerald green. As she tucked the writing implement away, she thought she heard someone possibly speaking to her nearby - the clue being that they were inquiring about reading and, as far as she had observed, she was the only one doing so. She pushed her glasses up as she turned her head towards the noise and then blinked several times in confusion because this housemate was holding a knife and fork and using them in a very peculiar way. ...also calling her 'you girl' which likewise caused a stern wrinkle to her nose and dulled the bitter taste upon her tongue. "It's Iris," she corrected him with a tut of the head, which dislodged her bookmark and sent it fluttering to the ground like whirligigs seeds. "Not you girl, if you please." She paused once more to eye him up and down over the rim of her glasses and lingered her gaze upon the fork for no particular reason. "*A book called The Bone Marrow Thieves. It follows a group of Indigenous people in a dystopian future with a widespread plague that causes people to lose the ability to dream." Which was putting things lightly and a real disservice to the profound themes and storytelling elements, especially the passages she had been so rudely interrupted reading, but she was speaking to someone holding a knife and fork without any intention of using them for their intended use. "Are you...practicing your audition of orchestra or dulling that knife and fork for the rhythmic sport of it?*" __________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back......................................... But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass..................................... The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like