LUNCHTIME.
Week Name/Date/Time: 'A Meeting of the Minds' / Wednesday 27th September / 12:30pm (IN THE MIDDLE OF LUNCH, YO)
Location: GREAT HALL
Open To: EVERYONE EATING LUNCH. I don't mind if multiple thread sets are created here, if people want to do different mini-plots at the same time in the same place, or whatever.
Currently Involving: NOBODY DUSTIN and BEATRICE
NOTES: Any angst beyond teenage angst is going to get SMACKED DOWN LIKE A SMACKED DOWN THING, so don't even think about it.
Also, my bit about multi-threads is, FOR EXAMPLE, in case seventh years don't want to thread with Bea, but want to do a lunch-thread, so that we can have all the Tuesday Great Hall Lunch stuff in the same place, okay?
The ceiling overhead showed a cloudy, somewhat dull autumn sky, and the ambient temperature in the room was somewhat chill despite the crowds. The voices of the students provided a dull, cacophonous roar. Half-eaten lunch was no longer making mouths water (well, not most), but the light scent drifting from somewhere promised pie for pudding.
At the Hufflepuff table, Beatrice Rooks stuffed her mouth full of peas, worked her jaw a bit, then opened it as wide as she possibly could, presenting the Ravenclaws across the way with a beautiful view of semi-masticated green mush. She lifted her eyelids with her fingers, then laughed around the see-food.
Location: GREAT HALL
Open To: EVERYONE EATING LUNCH. I don't mind if multiple thread sets are created here, if people want to do different mini-plots at the same time in the same place, or whatever.
Currently Involving: NOBODY DUSTIN and BEATRICE
NOTES: Any angst beyond teenage angst is going to get SMACKED DOWN LIKE A SMACKED DOWN THING, so don't even think about it.
Also, my bit about multi-threads is, FOR EXAMPLE, in case seventh years don't want to thread with Bea, but want to do a lunch-thread, so that we can have all the Tuesday Great Hall Lunch stuff in the same place, okay?
The ceiling overhead showed a cloudy, somewhat dull autumn sky, and the ambient temperature in the room was somewhat chill despite the crowds. The voices of the students provided a dull, cacophonous roar. Half-eaten lunch was no longer making mouths water (well, not most), but the light scent drifting from somewhere promised pie for pudding.
At the Hufflepuff table, Beatrice Rooks stuffed her mouth full of peas, worked her jaw a bit, then opened it as wide as she possibly could, presenting the Ravenclaws across the way with a beautiful view of semi-masticated green mush. She lifted her eyelids with her fingers, then laughed around the see-food.