Post by LINUS CHANDLER BENOIT on Sept 14, 2012 20:30:52 GMT -5
LINUS CHANDLER BENOIT
Born seventeen years ago in the city of Bordeaux, Linus has a very typical wizarding family life. His parents are wizards with an average job at the ministry. He has a younger sister and an older brother. There’s nothing particularly outstanding about his family other than the fact that they’re pure blood, though they don’t care to make a bold statement out of it. His parents, however, seemed to hold a subtle disapproval of anything that related to muggles and their world. In fact, he never even met a muggle until he was eight. The idea and concept of a squib was a taboo, but he knew what it meant; he knew what the term muggle meant. Yet, somehow, some way, he befriended one. It wasn’t that his parents detested them. Rather, they aren’t particularly disliked or liked, but more as furniture such as the house elves in the sense that they were “things that exist but do not touch.”
Anywho, Linus and his non-magical friend got along quite well. They even managed to get him out of his shell long enough to get chores done – something he thought was some sort of awful punishment. It wasn’t until he summoned his house elf a year later that he realized that his friend was a muggle. They screamed at the sight of them, backing away and never returning to his house. He found it strange, but it clicked in and he made them swear never to speak of it. His parents later found out and erased all memory of the house elf from their mind and of him. He doesn’t speak of them anymore. It wasn’t long after that his wizard letter came and took his mind off the muggle, providing the perfect distraction and burying the memory. Only his family know of this and avoid ever bringing it up.
He got along with his family quite well. They were the typical, traditional family but they were still warm. Linus found it entirely boring, and skipped going back home during the holidays several times because he didn’t quite care for it. The history of Hogwarts was the excuse he gave his parents that he was interested in. History wasn’t his forte, but it was one of the things his parents specialized in, and allowed him to do as he wished for it, hoping to get him to work in that line sometime in the future. His older brother seems to have noticed his “quirks” that his parents refuse to see.
Linus has never been the type to stand out for too long. If at all possible, he would prefer something that stays in the background. He’s that bystander that people never care to notice but always seems to understand what is going on around him. It’s a title he’s oddly proud of achieving, taking the saying “seen but not heard” almost literally. He likes his space, though he doesn’t seem to care for the space of others.
He’s a smart fellow, able to adapt quickly to his situations and assess them without letting his emotions sink into his actions. The seventeen year old was always the type to think with his head. The sad goal in mind is to avoid any and all effort. Despite knowing an answer, he’ll answer it incorrectly on purpose because “it would be troublesome if they knew.” He enjoys the life of an average student and their ability to blend into the class. Whether it is a nameless bullied kid or a neglected one, the idea of anonymity was something he favors greatly. For him, it’s freedom; it’s an escape from everything.
One thing he lacks is motivation. What he does is because he “feels” like it, whether it be grades, athletics, or any other sort of thing. He’s lost and gained a few friends quickly because of this apathetic attitude towards just about anything. Even with the last year of Hogwarts and graduation surely coming, he still hasn’t decided just what he would like to do with the rest of his life. The ministry, as delightful as that sounds to him, isn’t quite what he has in mind, but neither is staying at home like a smuck.
When he isn’t busy his daily sources of entertainment, it wouldn’t be surprising to find him lying in bed with his face stuck in a book. He doesn’t read for his health, but it seems like a better use of his time when his entertainment runs dry. Moreover, it’s more of a hobby of his, than actual work. (School work is often done quickly as it comes and has never been much of a problem for him). It bores him easily and between boredom and irritation, he would prefer the latter.
There are times where his words are vague but sharp. Most of the time this is not done on purpose, his laziness extends to even his speech. It’s almost choppy. But that’s when he’s being his normal lazy self. As a source of entertainment and study, he would take up a different persona and gather up his friends to go and press certain boundaries. The impression of fear in the muggle’s eyes years ago gave him an instinctive dislike for anything relating the subject.
He never trusted a person’s words. They were unreliable, untrustworthy, lies. It was better to sit back and watch their expressions. Even a poker face couldn’t lie completely. There were always tiny expressions that could be studied, even without the need of magic. The only catch was trying to train one’s self to correctly discover and identify which each of them was. It was a difficult practice, but weren’t all things? Linus thought back to the class he was supposed to be heading to, charms. The subject wasn’t that difficult for him. He retracted the thought, adjusting it slightly. Many things weren’t difficult.
Right now he was watching – as he did plenty of times during the course of the school. People watching (another word for stalking without chasing or hiding or having a particular target) was a good hobby of his. Apparently they would have made good use of his belief. There was no use getting mad – as the woman before him was – over something simple like words. Getting angry took unnecessary energy, and who wanted to get exhausted yelling and screeching like an old crone? It would be downright embarrassing in his honest opinion. A few years like that and the girl would probably screech and scowl more than Professor McGonagall on a good day. His classmate, the one who was the reason everyone in the halls were receiving this verbal abuse of nails scratching at the board, was only digging himself further in the hole. He only contributed to the noise.
But he wasn’t listening to the words. His gaze was focused on their expressions. The girl’s began with a small twitch of the lip; irritation, which was returned by a pause and a blank look (obliviousness). Her words weren’t simple. Subtext, there was always subtext in a woman’s tone, he learned from his mother. It wasn’t only the words to pick up on but also that tone. He must not have caught it considering her growing frustration and that very slight twitch of her lip as her voice grew louder. The poor fool still wasn’t getting it, but one would think after all this time the two had spent fighting one another, he would get it. Anger was quick to get the better of them. And there started the yelling and screeching and plenty of other meaningless words that could simply be fixed.
Linus could tell their prides had taken a toll. They were having a lover’s spat in the middle of a crowded (and only growing more so) hall. It was a wonder how a professor hadn’t even bothered to investigate the commotion. Perhaps they were busy with some other sort of thing, another argument surrounding the castle. It was school after all and, other than studying, what other sort of entertainment was there? Pestering the house elves?
Reading the papers was never as interesting as this.
However, the sight of a professor making their way towards them (and dissuading any students nearby) reminded him it was time to leave. The show was over.
