[ There's nothing out of the ordinary for students to bring their homework out to the common room, parchment sprawling out around their chair as they scribble away essays. Rafe is easily found among them, with translations for ancient runes or abacuses to parse out a challenging bit of arithmancy. The big difference here is the company he keeps. Ambra accompanies him on occasion, perched on his shoulders as it preens his hair affectionately. Being underground isn't exactly her favorite place to be and doubly so given her wingspan (it took a few years to build up the muscles to let her climb up on him) but... Eh.
Usually he'd ignore anybody who dared annoy him when he's working but these are his people. He can stand an interruption from fellow Slytherins, and it's always a hoot (get it) to see the younger ones' reactions to a giant bloody owl just hanging out. ]
b) library
[ Unfortunately, there's a definite no pets policy in the library (boo hiss) but a whole lot of really awesome resources. ]
If you're going to sit here, [ he says without looking up from his textbook, ] then you're going to be quiet. If not, we're going to have a problem. [ Slowly lifting his gaze, he levels his best Kubrick Stare™ (do not try this at home) at the offending party. ] And by we, I mean you.
c) quidditch pitch
[ Of an evening when Rafe can't be bothered with homework, he heads out for some solo practice. He isn't crazy enough to loose the bludgers on his own — he sticks to the quaffle on nights like this, tossing it up to crack it across the pitch before summoning it back, rinse and repeat. Anyone vaguely familiar with Muggle sport will note all that's lacking is the batting cage. What can he say, Muggles have some pretty damn good ideas when you get down to it. No whammy no whammy, swing and for the love of god announce yourself if you don't want a sudden faceful of quaffle. ]
d) the rooftops
[ More than one way to skin a cat and similar to getting around the castle. Sure there's secret passages and corridors that only open if you tickle the right brick, but there's also the higher roads. It had started as a younger adventure to prove he could do anything some mudblood could, quickly turned into an adrenaline-laced jog across tiles and spires and—
...Crap. This window is usually unlocked. ]
Hey. [ Rapping insistently on the glass pane, he knows you can see him. Come on. Don't be that guy. ] Open up.
Rafe Adler. 7th Year. | OTA
[ There's nothing out of the ordinary for students to bring their homework out to the common room, parchment sprawling out around their chair as they scribble away essays. Rafe is easily found among them, with translations for ancient runes or abacuses to parse out a challenging bit of arithmancy. The big difference here is the company he keeps. Ambra accompanies him on occasion, perched on his shoulders as it preens his hair affectionately. Being underground isn't exactly her favorite place to be and doubly so given her wingspan (it took a few years to build up the muscles to let her climb up on him) but... Eh.
Usually he'd ignore anybody who dared annoy him when he's working but these are his people. He can stand an interruption from fellow Slytherins, and it's always a hoot (get it) to see the younger ones' reactions to a giant bloody owl just hanging out. ]
b) library
[ Unfortunately, there's a definite no pets policy in the library (boo hiss) but a whole lot of really awesome resources. ]
If you're going to sit here, [ he says without looking up from his textbook, ] then you're going to be quiet. If not, we're going to have a problem. [ Slowly lifting his gaze, he levels his best Kubrick Stare™ (do not try this at home) at the offending party. ] And by we, I mean you.
c) quidditch pitch
[ Of an evening when Rafe can't be bothered with homework, he heads out for some solo practice. He isn't crazy enough to loose the bludgers on his own — he sticks to the quaffle on nights like this, tossing it up to crack it across the pitch before summoning it back, rinse and repeat. Anyone vaguely familiar with Muggle sport will note all that's lacking is the batting cage. What can he say, Muggles have some pretty damn good ideas when you get down to it. No whammy no whammy, swing and for the love of god announce yourself if you don't want a sudden faceful of quaffle. ]
d) the rooftops
[ More than one way to skin a cat and similar to getting around the castle. Sure there's secret passages and corridors that only open if you tickle the right brick, but there's also the higher roads. It had started as a younger adventure to prove he could do anything some mudblood could, quickly turned into an adrenaline-laced jog across tiles and spires and—
...Crap. This window is usually unlocked. ]
Hey. [ Rapping insistently on the glass pane, he knows you can see him. Come on. Don't be that guy. ] Open up.
e) wild card
[ ANY IDEA I CAN'T THINK OF THROW IT AT ME, BRO ]