Post by dominique on Jul 3, 2010 12:57:58 GMT -8
The clack, clack, clack of heels resounded through the corridor as Dominique Hastings followed the grimy Hogwarts caretaker down towards the office. The small red head wrikled her nose in digust at Filch. She was disgusted by his lack, not only of magic, but of hygiene as well. Nique looked him over as though she were far superior to him. Well, she could preform magic, she really was far superior to him. She was a Slytherin and as most slytherins did, she upheld the ideals of magic. Well, that's what she let everyone think anyways. Nique really wasn't as terrible as she pretended to be. The facade she put up was much harder than the real Dominique ever could be. Honestly, she'd started out nice, and the real her was nice, but the her she tried to be was much colder and without realizing it, she'd begun to succumb to the type of pure-blooded Slytherin her parents had wanted her to be. Never had she imagined she would turn out this way: walking through empty hallways of grey stone with hatred in her heart and very little left to live for. Had she even come to terms with the evil she was letting overcome her? No. She scarcely realized the change in her heart. She felt no darker, no closer to the dark lord then she had when she was five years old. The facade she had created for herself was becoming her and she was letting it overpower her entire being. The real Dominique Hastings was buried so deep below the rough surface, it was uneven ground when asking whether or not the real Nique would ever emerge. Were she to continue at the rate she was going there was more than a good chance that she would never again. But, how could Nique really be herself... what was she really?
"This way" Filch grunted, reaching out to pull her down a stairwell. She jerked her arm away and huffed in disgust.
"I know where you're office is." She snapped, turning her nose up in the air. Behind her, she heard Filch mutter something. Something that sounded an awful lot like 'well you're there enough'. True enough. Nique was prone to doing stuff which caused her a fair amount of trouble. For example, dropping those water balloons on first years from a landing had been funny. Until she accidentally ballooned Filch. Not so funny anymore. Just having fun was apparently a crime at this school and for trying to get a good laugh, madamoiselle dressed in short shorts and an off the shoulder sweater was headed to Filch's office to face finding out what exactly her consequence would be. Nique's strappy blueish heels made a sharp almost snap noise as they hit the ground she continued just behind Filch, following the rhythm of her steps.
"In here." Filch pointed her towards his dingy looking office. Vomit rose in her throat she the smell assailed her nose. She gagged, trying desperately not to vomit. It smelled somewhere between fish gone old and decomposing trash. Initially the smell was hard to take, Nique found so every single time she was forced to step into this hellish place. "I'll be back girl. Now don't you try moving." She rolled her eyes and watched Filch's figure retreat from the small room. Doesn't sound very promising she thought to herself, wondering if he was going to drag back another crew of bandits who'd caused him problems. Nique dropped herself comfortably into a chair and propped her feet up on his desk. She was beginning to think she might have been showing a little too much leg... oh well, it made her look taller and at only 5.2" that's usually important. The small redhaired snake scanned the walls visually, little had changed since she'd last been here. Filch had put up a sticky note with something scrawled in illegible handwriting. Behind her, the door hinges screamed as someone opened up the office. Filch should really get that oiled, she thought to herself, not bothering to turn around. Were it Filch, she'd have plenty of opportunity to speak with him in moments. No need to start their conversation early. Especially since she was nearly certain the outcome would be negative for her.
Outfit