(Corridors) Gargoyle

[Angrod Jacoby]

Slender hands clenched in frustration as Angrod scowled at the annoying little brats before him; two fourth year Gryffindors thought it funny, no hilarious to play a daring prank upon a Jacoby? Ludicrous, yet Angrod hadn't exactly lived up to his family's caniving ideals and flaunting flamboyancy. The slender youth kept quiet; biding his time he claimed, yet truelly was he scared to uphold such a foul reputationthat had sadly waned during the years? Looking deep into the recesses of his dark brown, nigh on black when shaded, eyes, one could find the definite answer; complete undying loyalty to his family. He wasn't worried that his reputation was insignificant within the school, as he was a mastermind, the one carefully, meticulously forming deceitful and ultimately diabolical acts; for the future. Presently he was the invaluable brains behind a destructive Slytherin group, as with seemingly all true Slytherins they were evil at heart, delgihting in the dismay and sorrow of others; particularly when they caused it.

Yet without the backing and moral support from his loyal friends; Angrod seemed easy pickings. If only he had the duelling prowess of his elder sister Lana, then he could teach the little worms that they were no better than the dirt under his feet. Sadly he lacked that capacity, his powerful mind would have to triumpth over matter. Boastfully he could claim awe inspiring abilities that could turn aside the pathetic swipes of these luckless Gryffindors, yet he didn't have the real strength to back those false claims. So as the Gryffindors laughed uproarisly in their victory over an older Slytherin, Angrod glowered, yet beneath the surface, unexpectedly for a someone with such a background, no anger or boundless energy boiled, he remained cool and calm. No matter what happened he would walk away with his head held high, regally like the true, proud pureblood he was. Sneering down upon them, though having lost the battle he knew he could win the war; their petty pranks would diminish to nothingness when compared with what he held in store for the unsuspecting Ministry.

As the lads hooted with laughter behind his back Angrod walked serenely away, keeping his back tall and straight. Once around the corner he ran a hand through his slick hair, now a detestable angry red colour; supposedly a Gryffindor red gone horribly wrong. Muttering the counter-curse Angrod walked on stiffly but swiftly hearing their approach once more. Making certain he didn't break into a run, Angrod kept calm as a rashly aimed spell flew past turning the arch ahead into a garish orange. Knowing he couldn't retort effectively Angrod simply walked quicker, sliding around the corner and bounding quickly behind a bulky statue of an ugly gargoyle.

Closing his eyes and lowering his rushed breathing he remained completely silent, until the foolish Gryffindors passed. Sorely wishing to pounce upon their defenceless backs and wip their impudent hides with a slashing spell, he restrained himself. Waiting patiently for them to pass, imagining their dumb looks and scratching of their heads in an ape like fashion. Feeling safe and sound he stepped out from his hiding place, only to find a much worse vision before him...

[Cessily Monroe]

If only all Slytherin's held that air of superiority, then the whole of their house would reap the benefits. Gryffindor would get what it deserved soon enough, if only you were patient enough to wait for it. Suppose it were up to her, however, then the student body would be much more selective about its students. Funny, how the mind of Salazar Slytherin was present within her pretty little Ravenclaw body. Reflecting this while trailing her lavender eyes down to the pocket of her robes, she slid a pale hand inside, removing it after closing her fingers around her wand. It was beautiful, with a core of Acromantula venom that might just seep out if snapped in half. The tattered strip of Dementor robe, though curled loosely around the wood like ribbons around a pole in may - dont ask, its a silly old age muggle tradition, usually happening at festivals to celebrate the coming of spring - tended to let its dangling cloth float like wisps. Cessiline couldn't have chosen a better maker to transform this powerful creation. Reflecting upon its sturdy quality now, she would have continued had it not been for the group of Gryffindors targeting a poor Slytherin. They may be mean-spirited, but the younger ones weren't as experianced and protected as the sixth and seventh years.

Like a ghost, Cessily had watched the entire episode, her presence undetected as she stood motionless within the shadows of a dusty corner. Remaining still and lifeless as a corpse, it was only after they had retreated far down the hall before she stepped into the light. At closer inspection her skin was more startling, deathly pale, close to the color of fresh milk. Pointing her wand towards their backs, her eyes closed, a slight wrinkle appearing on her forehead. "Furnunculus." Once the objective hex was cast, her face evidently smoothed, falling back into a state much like marble. Casting spells, Cessily always recalled, would be much easier if her blood wasn't split in half. Waiting for a moment or two, a noise similar to a scream erupted from afar, echoing down the hallway to reach her satisfied ears. Holstering her wand within her robes, she glided towards the gargoyle without even the tiniest of sounds, ceasing her steps two feet from it. Even the creature, though made of stone, seemed to shudder at her gaze. It wasn't long before the lad stepped out to face someone he hadn't expected.

"Poor boy.." Cessily murmured, her hypnotic voice somewhat soothing as it lulled from her crimson lips, "Did they hurt you?" Circling around him while pretending to check for injuries, her eyes instead roved, relishing the fact that they were alone. Unable to hide the sudden flash of red within each iris, the vampire stepped away, readying herself to dodge whatever petty spell he had cooked up his sleeve in an attempt to fend her off. Unless he was the one she was looking for, she had no other use for him except to satisfy her thirst. For the sake of his life, the boy had better cooperate. Staring him down expectantly while awaiting his name, the seventh year smiled, something so innocent-appearing and beautiful, it couldn't have come from her evil little heart. Misleading as she was talented, Cessily reached her hand towards his neck, tempted to throttle him senseless. "Im looking for someone.." She whispered, grazing her razor-sharp fingernails against his skin. Keeping her touch gentle enough to scratch only, the Ravenclaw sighed, a habit instead of a necessity.

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[Angrod Jacoby]

On hearing a distant blood curdling scream Angrod flinched, half expecting a thick hand to yank him out from his ill concealed hiding place, though it hid his thin frame adequaetely it wouldn't withstand a direct blast from any powerful spell, which given his vivid and analysing every aspect mind Androd feared.

Carefully thinking through the worst and best scenarios he came to the conclusion that holding his head high once again and stalking past those Gryffindors would be for the best, what innane sense had told them to turn about and find his hiding place he couldn't guess instantly, but he knew with stone cold certainty that he could defeat them, by simple yet effective methods of ignoring them and walking right on by, impervious to any insults flung his way.

Only what greeted his slitted eyes was something he couldn't have guessed; thoroughly unexpected, dark eyes bulging, not so much in fright but shock at the genteel voice floating around the bulky gargoyle Angrod nonetheless visibly jumped a hand instinctively reaching to grasp his panicking heart, rather than the wand to defend himself, he knew such a move was rash and useless against any advesary, especially this one when he gave her closer inspection. The light was sufficient to make out harsh chiselled features, beautiful to some but solely strong jawed and cold to Angrod; just how he prefered people. His gaze alighted upon her eyes, and his own widened in unfeigned uncontrollable fear. He didn't state the obvious aloud but inside his mind screamed vampire and quickly thought up how to defeat this latest, seemingly insurmountable, obstacle.

Angrod had no dregs of courage to summon up, he simply had his cold, ruthless heart to rely upon, he feared death far less than the average person, for he had relatively little to loose at this stage in his life; solely his remarkable mind, never his frail body. "No," he answered curtly, his voice filled with contempt, not for her as he would never be so foolhardy, but for the pathetic Gryffindors who had thought themselves far superior to his good self. Cleverly he had also countered her opinion of him being a poor boy, not only did he not desire nor need her pity or scorn, he wasn't poor in either sense of the word.

Sweat trickling unbidden down his brow Angrod's back remained stiffened and he stood tall, straight backed and nigh on rigid, though his weak knees threatened to buckle beneath him, his powerful mind won over matter and his quaking ceased nearly as quickly as it began.

"A Jacoby by any chance?" He enquired keeping his voice diplomatically civil and quick to answer whatever she demanded. Gulping as her nail scratched into his unprotected neck his mind reeled on imagining her fangs tearing into him, no it shan't come to that, I've too much to offer this world and my time to die is not now. Regulating his breathing so her sharp nail didn't cut any deeper his chest heaved only a little as narrowed black, devilish eyes stared back at angrily flickering red it was a battle of immense willpower, the boy wasn't foolish, he knew he was at her complete and utter mercy, but he wouldn't cower down and become a quivering wreck before her, no that would only heighten her disdain, he had to remain calm, so with a level head and voice he asked cooly, "and you are?" The edged contempt that came naturally somewhat diminished.

[Cessily Monroe]

"Good." Floated her seemingly satisfied voice from a pair of dark red lips, hovering inches away from his ear. Cessily wrinkled her nose, inhaling deeply at the curve of his neck. You reek of fear.. She thought, the statement a purr in her dark mind. But then again, the Ravenclaw generally had that affect with people. Narrowing her eyes, the vampire continued to circle him, wondering for the briefest of moments if he knew. Feeling the tiny quakes shiver after forcefully stopping them, she confirmed her suspicions true. So he knew about her, hm?

Wise enough to know that the rudeness in his meek little voice was for the bullies instead of her beautiful self, Cessily smirked, stepping a few feet away from him to lessen the temptation. He knew not that if she were to eat him, his elder sibling might not permit her to join the rogue group of hers.. That didn't mean she was about to tell him that, though. The boy could continue believing that she would rip him limb from limb, and suck his body dry of blood. Fear was a much more preferable method of controlling others and keeping them in line, she found. Smiling angelically, the half-witch refused from extending her fangs, thinking that too much of an overkill to be used now. "Maybe." She was close, so close, to graduating from Hogwarts. Having already crossed occupations such as anything to do with shopping, or the Ministry, all that was left for her to do was fall in with the Rogue Wizard lot. They were a bunch of outcasts bent on destroying things, right? Well then, Cessily should fit right in.

It was doubtful the headmaster knew of her body count, else she would have gotten the boot already. Or maybe he knew, but was just counting down the days until she was out of the school forever. Hey! Maybe she could eat one of the professors and take that job. On second thought, if any of her students pissed her off, Cessily might not be able to control her hunger and anger. She'd end up polishing off the entire student body. Now that sounded delicious, but horrible for her reputation. Killing that many would cause her to lose her will to murder, and that was a bad thing. Without it, Cessily was nothing more than a waste of space.

"I am looking for the Rogue Wizard." She murmured darkly, her eyes shadowed. "You will help me join them, yes?" Or I wont hesitate to eat you. But the Jacoby boy knew that already. The calmness in her voice was downright terrifying, but it was how she was. Making threats and sounding like it was the most normal thing in the world, saying Cessily would kill them if they didn't cooperate.

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