Morgaine Carey
January 13, 2009 10:00 PM
Being caught by Morgaine Carey
Since no major injury had been done to her person or dress, Morgaine decided to call it a good day, for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Gathering her things quickly, she headed for the door. She had a free period on her hands before Ancient Runes, and felt caught up enough on her work to spend it in the library with a book on Vanishing Sickness. She had been reading said book for a week and thought she might actually finish it before her next class.Before she could reach the hall, though, she heard her name coming from somewhere behind her and automatically stopped, her head turning to look for the speaker.
She was not expecting the speaker to be Saul Pierce.
Because their roommates had all left, she and Saul were, in her opinion, much luckier than most of Sonora's students. A single dorm meant a peaceful dorm, a place to work and rest instead of, depending on House and year, bicker, plot, plot and then bicker, accomodate, or do whatever Pecari girls in groups did. Morgaine thought she could attribute all of her grades to the absence of roommates, and she was sure Saul - not someone she immediately thought of in connection with a responsibility - had it to thank for the prefect's badge he wore and that should have been hers. They had not exchanged a word since he had been given it, and she had no idea what he wanted now.
"Hello," she said when greeted more properly. Since he had been the one to hail her, she made no attempt to carry the conversation forward. It did not, as she quickly realized, matter; Saul rushed into what sounded to her like a badly- rehearsed speech of a broom polish salesman one error away from losing his job.
Of course, the content made it sound like the analogy might have been closer than she would have thought. Did they have no one willing to participate, for him to ask her? A prediction of hers for the year had been that the Pecaris - a show-offy, dramatic lot for the most part - would be neck deep in the Concert by this time. "I doubt the Headmaster's taste runs to secret Dark rituals on stage," she said dryly once he finished. "And I'm not a stagehand."
He should never have thought she would take orders from him or Pseudo-Pierce, but she decided to excuse it for the sake of simplicity. "Did you want something else?" she asked, as annoyed as ever that she had to look up at him.
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