Post by Vincentia Crowley on Aug 15, 2013 9:57:36 GMT -6
((Failpost, sorry.))
Of all the different breaks during the day, this was perhaps the most sacrosanct of all.
There were numerous traditions surrounding Lunch. Particular established seating locales, the opening of the library, the opinions displayed about every meal cooked by the Academy's staff. It was filled with traditions that everyone had to know.
For example, on the occasions that the sixth years were present for lunch, they were always afforded the pick of the table. Of course, politeness was preferred, but they so rarely got to sit down in the hall that their table was often cleared on the days that they were back from any number of different excursions.
There were also certain instances which prompted magic-assisted food fights.
Vincentia was fairly certain that having two people standing up arguing about which weapon was better would soon devolve into one of the aforementioned food fights--quickly. She was sitting in the back corner of the hall, the same place she'd taken for the opening buffet, her food neatly arrayed in front of her. She always made sure she had some very good defensive material on hand after her first food fight during her first year. That was currently a well-cleaned plate previously holding a sandwich. Her fingers inched towards it.
In the mean time, however, she had to hold a good conversation. With whoever would chance to be sitting next to the Lotus of Death. Which weren't many people.
"Goodness," she murmured at the threats being hurled. Some of them were quite juvenile, comparing certain teachers to the opposing side's mother. "They're rather impolite, aren't they."
Of course, a good many people got very passionate about their weapons. Vin supposed that if she were susceptible to such easy annoyance, she'd probably feel the same way should someone insult scythes. Of course, if they did pester her enough, then Stormcrescent could just have a talk with them himself.
FLEP.
The wet sound of mashed potatoes hitting one debater's cheek seemed to echo through the lunchroom like a gunshot.
"Here we go again."
Soon, food was flying from spoon catapults and butter knives had turned into sabers. Some clever mischief-maker had grabbed a lid from one of the pots and was charging into the fray, using it as a buckler.
A head of broccoli was sent flying towards the Lotus. Quick as a snake, she flipped the plate up with two fingers and it rebounded harmlessly against the backside.
Of all the different breaks during the day, this was perhaps the most sacrosanct of all.
There were numerous traditions surrounding Lunch. Particular established seating locales, the opening of the library, the opinions displayed about every meal cooked by the Academy's staff. It was filled with traditions that everyone had to know.
For example, on the occasions that the sixth years were present for lunch, they were always afforded the pick of the table. Of course, politeness was preferred, but they so rarely got to sit down in the hall that their table was often cleared on the days that they were back from any number of different excursions.
There were also certain instances which prompted magic-assisted food fights.
Vincentia was fairly certain that having two people standing up arguing about which weapon was better would soon devolve into one of the aforementioned food fights--quickly. She was sitting in the back corner of the hall, the same place she'd taken for the opening buffet, her food neatly arrayed in front of her. She always made sure she had some very good defensive material on hand after her first food fight during her first year. That was currently a well-cleaned plate previously holding a sandwich. Her fingers inched towards it.
In the mean time, however, she had to hold a good conversation. With whoever would chance to be sitting next to the Lotus of Death. Which weren't many people.
"Goodness," she murmured at the threats being hurled. Some of them were quite juvenile, comparing certain teachers to the opposing side's mother. "They're rather impolite, aren't they."
Of course, a good many people got very passionate about their weapons. Vin supposed that if she were susceptible to such easy annoyance, she'd probably feel the same way should someone insult scythes. Of course, if they did pester her enough, then Stormcrescent could just have a talk with them himself.
FLEP.
The wet sound of mashed potatoes hitting one debater's cheek seemed to echo through the lunchroom like a gunshot.
"Here we go again."
Soon, food was flying from spoon catapults and butter knives had turned into sabers. Some clever mischief-maker had grabbed a lid from one of the pots and was charging into the fray, using it as a buckler.
A head of broccoli was sent flying towards the Lotus. Quick as a snake, she flipped the plate up with two fingers and it rebounded harmlessly against the backside.