Post by briarhenderson on Aug 20, 2008 23:24:34 GMT -5
Humility? Humility... Briar almost laughed at the slip of paper in his hands. A Sins and Virtues Ball? And he was... a virtue. Whose grand idea was this? There was the signature at the bottom, supposedly the headmaster's. But there was no way anyone in their right mind would place him, Briar Henderson, as a virtue. Humility.
Apparently, though, no one was in their right mind, because the week had passed, and most of the school was overcome with excitement. To be honest, Briar didn't completely want to go. The number of people he knew in the entire school dwindled down to about two. He hated public events like this, having to dress up and all that. In costume, in this case. It had taken him forever to think of how to dress like Humility, and from what he could tell, he'd still failed pretty miserably.
At the moment, he was concentrating on himself in the mirror, teasing his blonde hair up into it's normal style with three fingers. As a general rule, Briar loved his hair. As long as it stayed straight, and as long as it stayed blond, it was his favorite part of his appearance.
And by 'favorite', I mean 'the only part he actually liked'.
Have you ever heard the phrase 'You are your own worst critic'. It was definitely true for Briar as he again tried to straighten the tie he wore around his neck. He couldn't help but think that now matter how much he tried, there would never be enough time for him to actually achieve almost perfection. At least he didn't have to worry about dress robes or fancy costumes- he'd decided it was best to leave it plain this time. With the black tie, white dress shirt, and black tight pants (not jeans; he'd decided that denim was pushing it), he would've looked just spiffy. All he needed was to lose the silver, mirror like aviators that hung from his front pocket, and either tuck in the other half of the shirt, or leave it all untucked. Oh, and some shoes would be nice.
That was a problem. Briar had a grand total of five pairs of shoes: a ratty pair of black and white lowtops, a less-ratty pair of black and white converse, two pairs of black and white vans, and some neon high-top things that he never wore anyway. For old time's sake, he threw on the ratty converse. At least they had character, right?
He left the dormitory with one last glance of dissapproval at the mirror- and without taking the aviators out or fixing his shirt. Already, the Great Hall was once again full of unfamiliar faces, most of whom had actually attempted or succeeded at the costume idea. Not to say he hadn't tried- he just lacked the creativity to come up with anything good.
He sat down at a random table, unsure of what exactly he was doing there. Avoiding another sleepless night alone? Just looking for something entertaining for once? So far, neither of those things had improved, and he didn't really expect them to.
Briar Henderson slid the mirrored sunglasses over his eyes in an attempt to hide from the rest of the world.
Apparently, though, no one was in their right mind, because the week had passed, and most of the school was overcome with excitement. To be honest, Briar didn't completely want to go. The number of people he knew in the entire school dwindled down to about two. He hated public events like this, having to dress up and all that. In costume, in this case. It had taken him forever to think of how to dress like Humility, and from what he could tell, he'd still failed pretty miserably.
At the moment, he was concentrating on himself in the mirror, teasing his blonde hair up into it's normal style with three fingers. As a general rule, Briar loved his hair. As long as it stayed straight, and as long as it stayed blond, it was his favorite part of his appearance.
And by 'favorite', I mean 'the only part he actually liked'.
Have you ever heard the phrase 'You are your own worst critic'. It was definitely true for Briar as he again tried to straighten the tie he wore around his neck. He couldn't help but think that now matter how much he tried, there would never be enough time for him to actually achieve almost perfection. At least he didn't have to worry about dress robes or fancy costumes- he'd decided it was best to leave it plain this time. With the black tie, white dress shirt, and black tight pants (not jeans; he'd decided that denim was pushing it), he would've looked just spiffy. All he needed was to lose the silver, mirror like aviators that hung from his front pocket, and either tuck in the other half of the shirt, or leave it all untucked. Oh, and some shoes would be nice.
That was a problem. Briar had a grand total of five pairs of shoes: a ratty pair of black and white lowtops, a less-ratty pair of black and white converse, two pairs of black and white vans, and some neon high-top things that he never wore anyway. For old time's sake, he threw on the ratty converse. At least they had character, right?
He left the dormitory with one last glance of dissapproval at the mirror- and without taking the aviators out or fixing his shirt. Already, the Great Hall was once again full of unfamiliar faces, most of whom had actually attempted or succeeded at the costume idea. Not to say he hadn't tried- he just lacked the creativity to come up with anything good.
He sat down at a random table, unsure of what exactly he was doing there. Avoiding another sleepless night alone? Just looking for something entertaining for once? So far, neither of those things had improved, and he didn't really expect them to.
Briar Henderson slid the mirrored sunglasses over his eyes in an attempt to hide from the rest of the world.