Post by Lizette Odell on Sept 17, 2008 2:01:05 GMT
-Honk- -Honk- -Honk- -Honk-
Lizette rolls over in her four poster bed, covers her head with a pillow and groans, trying to ignore the obnoxious alarm of one of her dorm-mates.
-Honk- -Honk- -Honk- -Honk-
The siren gets louder. Izzy clenches her teeth, her hot breath almost choking her under the cotton pillowcase. She sits up, eyes bright and firey with anger, searching for the culprit who would dare interupt her precious sleep. She sees a younger girl hanging off her bed, an enchanted goose clock hovering in hte air beside her, blaring its insistance that she wake.
"Why I oughtta..." Zett's eyes narrow angrily, and then she smirks. She walks up to the girl's bed and nods knowingly as she picks up a t-shirt sticking out from under the girl's mattress, "Weird Sisters Final Farewell Tour... that figures." She tosses the shirt aside, slaps the clock off and makes her way to the common room. "Anyone who stays out late, deserves to sleep in late and miss classes," she grins, walks through the vast Slytherin communal chamber and out the door.
She glides up the stairs from the dungeons and into the Great Hall where breakfast is being served. Only then does she realize that she's still in her pajamas; a pair of black flannel trousers and a gray tank top. For a moment she thinks about going back to the common room and changing, but then remembers that she doesn't care what people think of her, and takes a seat at the Slytherin table. "Waffles, brilliant!" she exclaims under her breath. Can she help it if she gets tired of cereal and muffins, though?
Within a matter of minutes, Iz has got a plate full of waffles slathered in butter, swimming in syrup, and topped with whipped cream and strawberries. "Now this is what I call breakfast," she says as she licks whipped cream and syrup off her fingers with exaggerated slurping noises. She smirks as the classy purebloods around her give her scathing looks of disgust and contempt. It happens to be one of her joys in life to irritate people who think they're better than everyone else. 'They will never understand the joy of good food... that is truly a pity,' she shakes her head, fauxly mournful at the thought.
Once she is finished making a scene of grappling for the better food at the table, she sobers herself up and starts acting like a human being rather than a half-starved animal. She adjusts her posture so that she is sitting perfectly straight with her shoulders rolled back and chin up, she crosses her bare ankles and tucks them at an angle under the bench she's sitting on, then carefully and precisely goes about cutting her food into small pieces and munching delicately on the sweet, buttery, crispy bit of heaven she calls waffles.
Again, she mentally chuckles to herself as her fellow classmates nod their sudden approval of her demeanor and return to eating their breakfast as if nothing happened. She gently sways her head in amusement before a shadow over her shoulder catches her attention...