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Post by TATUM ELISE WOODS on Jan 5, 2010 18:02:10 GMT -8
I'LL BE YOUR SUNSHINE , [/size][/color]  - - - - - - - - - you can be mine[/center]
Tatum was extremely tired. That last night had been eventful. Another infamous truth or dare game, this time in the room of requirement.... nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She just remembered doing a few dares, and leaving when she didn't get enough attention from one of her closest friends. The brunette was like a little kid in that way. If she didn't get what she wanted, she'd throw a fit or do something completely immature. And so, when her friend started hitting on a school slut, jealousy overtook her and caused her to leave. And although it had been late at night, she had grabbed her broom and a few tennis balls before wandering outside into the dark to play Quidditch. Unfortunately, she wasn't careful enough to not get caught.... and now Tatum had gotten ten points off of Slytherin and had detention for the next week or so, which was why she was not in a particularly good mood.
The brunette looked through her dorm room to find something to do, on that Saturday, before her detention..... she was not in the 'quidditch' mood, nor was she in the 'cooking' mood, so perhaps she'd just read her quidditch magazine. But where the fuck was it? Tatum tore apart her part of the dorm room, throwing various colorful clothes all over her bed, in search of one particular magazine.... and then it hit her. She had left it in the room of requirement the previous night. It was probably laying right where she left it, on one of the various couches in the room. Dressed only in boxer shorts and a thin camisole (it was winter, yes, but she always wore that to bed), as Tatum had woken up quite late and had not bothered to get ready just yet, she set out to the room of requirements.
"Stupid fucking people." she grumbled, to no one in particular, as she walked through the dungeon halls carefully. There were various crowds of people, all of them were dressed and bright and all talkative.... they were happy, something Tatum rarely was. She got quite a few stares, to which she responded with a simple glare, as she walked up the seemingly endless flights of stairs, cursing yet again as the heavy staircases moved in a way that prevented her from reaching her destination at the time she wanted.... but eventually, several curse words and minutes later, she was at the Room of Requirement.
Tatum's small hand moved to open the cold door after she paced in front of the wall and thought about finding her magazine, a surprised look on her face appearing as she did so, due to who was in there. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"
tag: open. words: 474. damn that's shorter than i thought it would be. outfit: click.lyrics: i can transform ya by chris brown & fire burning by sean kingston. notes: join. -peer pressures-
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Post by MAXIMILIAN ROSIER on Jan 10, 2010 18:11:52 GMT -8
 karma police, arrest this manHE TALKS IN MATHS.HE BUZZES LIKE A FRIDGE.HE'S LIKE A DE-TUNED RADIO.• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
dull and dark, as every night at hogwarts was. maximilian, though exceedingly tired, couldn't fall asleep. after pondering for a few minutes he figured he would go find something to do in the room of requirement. so, there he sat, in a elegant burgundy chair next to a quaint fireplace. reminded him much of his rosier manor, the little he could remember of it. a deep sigh escaped from his lungs and he brushed some dust off of the slytherin emblem on his vest. max gazed intently at the glass, as if staring would replenish it with more wine. it was quite amazing how much you could change the room of requirement for yourself, maximilian had only been here once or twice but both times he got the chance to recreate the rosier mansion, a place he hadn't been in years. no, not since it was burnt down. he kept that nightmare out of his mind, though now, relived it in a way. the study that his father spent just a few hours in, the walls lined in bookshelves. books that looked thousands of years old, and untouched. off to the corner a globe and stretched across the floor an elaborate rug. he was home.
a perfect replica of his father's study, and a spitting image of what was twenty years ago. he now looked just as his father did at this age, though max couldn't picture his father in his mind as hard as he tried. maximilian groaned as he looked around for the wine bottle he had snuck in with him. seeing it empty on the floor, he let go of the glass letting it crash to the floor. time was lost, max had thought he had been there for half an hour at the most but the empty wine bottle said otherwise. something scurried over his shoulder, toward the door of the room. he had no desire to know what it was, and wished it wasn't another person. no, company would just dampen the mood, though the mood wasn't bright to begin with. ever so gracefully, a woman loomed at his side and fussed harsh words.
'what the fuck are you doing here'. she said. a frown curved its way onto maximilian's lips. 'oh, so nice of you to grace me with your presence, tatum, i was trying to pass the time. maybe you would be so kind to help me with that.' maximilian tried to be nice, but really, he wished she would just leave. 'what brings you here, shouldn't you be on the quidditch pitch? that is what you do right? i never payed too much attention to you, don't take it the wrong way but you just don't interest me much' max looked her over, before returning his eyes to the empty wine bottle. it honestly felt like all time stopped when he was in this room, so secluded from the rest of the world. perfect place to have a secret society, you could make it whatever you needed to. maybe that's why max never returned, upon finding it, until now. he didn't know what he wanted, and this day didn't help.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •for a minute there i lost myselfTHIS IS WHAT YOU GET.THIS IS WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU MESS WITH US.541 - tatum woods - karma police, radiohead - not finished
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Post by TATUM ELISE WOODS on Jan 10, 2010 19:43:20 GMT -8
I'LL BE YOUR SUNSHINE , [/size][/color] - - - - - - - - - you can be mine[/center]
Tatum had been extremely confused when she first opened the door. The room of requirement had turned into a room quite similar to what she imagined the headmaster's office looked like at the moment. There were an enormous amount of bookshelves containing books that, it seemed, nobody had ever dared to touch. An intricate rug laid upon the floor, proving it's high cost with all the detailed designs within it, as did an empty wine bottle. The brunette's eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of the bottle as a sick feeling settled in her stomach; she even had to stop herself from taking a few steps back and deciding not to pursue her magazine. Any sign of alcohol made her very uneasy, as did the sound of broken glass and yelling, but she had learned to cope with the fact that most people her age were involved with this kind of crap. Tatum had yet to figure out what was so bloody great about losing your self-control to feel numb for a few hours. If you asked her for an alternative, she'd just tell you to go lay in the snow. There was really no reason to drink away your problems; if they're really that bad and you're that much of a wimp to stick it out, go fucking kill yourself by laying in the snow.
An eyebrow raised as Tatum looked at the male, one whose name was Maximilian Rosier. The Rosier family line was one of the few that had not gone completely astray from the traditional pureblood beliefs, like hers had. Her older brother was training to become a fucking auror, something that neither her dad nor the Death Eaters would have that good of a response to, if they were able to do anything about it. Max was sitting quite eerily in a chair in front of a welcoming fire, with a broken glass on the floor next to him. His response to her question, that even she would admit was kinda rude, was not exactly as insulting as she expected. 'oh, so nice of you to grace me with your presence, tatum, i was trying to pass the time. maybe you would be so kind to help me with that.'
No thanks. Max looked like he was having some kind of spiritual moment with himself and his mind, and she did not want to bother him and end up screwing with his soul or something. Tatum opened her mouth automatically to respond to that, but then he spoke again. 'what brings you here, shouldn't you be on the quidditch pitch? that is what you do right? i never payed too much attention to you, don't take it the wrong way but you just don't interest me much' Tatum could not help rolling her eyes at his comment, though he did make a valid point. She should be out on the quidditch pitch, even though she was extremely tired and was not really in the mood... when she became a professional, she would not get to choose when she played in games, right? The officials wouldn't give a crap if it was her time of the month or if she had a rough night; it would be her job.
"I was looking for my magazine," Tatum began, not exactly mentioning that it was a quidditch magazine that she was searching for, "But I'm not so sure if I'll be able to find it in here." she finished, motioning toward the large room. She was now in a predicament. Should she go off and look through the bookshelves that Max had some weird need to conjure up? Or should she ask his permission to do so, in case looking through the bookshelves might damage his thinking process or get him mad or something? After a few moments of thinking, Tatum decided that she might as well ask. Not that she'd really care what his answer was; it was merely a formality unless he had an extremely good reason for her not to search for what was hers. "You mind if I start looking?" she asked hesitantly as she took a few steps inside of the room, though she had no clue where the fuck the magazine would be in a room like that. It certainly did not look like this last night, she was certain, but her magazine had apparently somehow made it here since this was what she had stumbled upon.
A small part of Tatum was tempted to join Max, near the fire. She was starting to feel the cold, now that she was this close to warmth, and was regretting not pulling on at least sweatpants or a proper shirt before leaving her dormitory. The brunette crossed her arms, rubbing them in an attempt to warm them up as she looked longingly at the warm fire that was only a few steps away. However, Tatum did not know much about Max. Judging by the empty bottle, he had been drinking, and she was not going to risk getting him mad. She had enough awful experiences with drunk men to even risk anything with someone like Max. He was not the type of person the brunette usually associated with. He was not on the quidditch team, nor did he seem to have a passion for cooking. The only similarities between them, or at least in Tatum's opinion, was the fact that they were in the same classes, house, and year. Nothing more.
tag: max. words: 935. could've made it to a thousand but i'm getting tired. outfit: click.lyrics: i can transform ya by chris brown & fire burning by sean kingston. notes: uhhh, none o.o idk why i made this section.
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