He had a good argument, she supposed; she inclined her head to surrender the point. “I’m surprised you weren’t a Ravenclaw,” Porphyria offered casually, because he could not be too many years her senior, and if he had been in her house surely she would have remembered him? (With a secretive twitch of her lips she reminded herself that Lycoris had been a Hufflepuff, and was that much younger, and would have no knowledge of past Ravenclaws – but never mind.) “You like the challenge of the process.”
She understood that well enough: poetry was all process. And she would bet anything that he worked (not for a living, but for the pleasure and the reward of it). She didn’t ask him, because she didn’t want to sound interested in him.
“And you take no pleasure in the past, then?” Phyri remarked – she had observed his reaction to the Fantoma orb and was not polite enough to keep her curiosity to herself. She was as intrigued by this one as she had been the last – she was only considering whose organic matter she might procure and actually find worthy of experiencing.
She understood that well enough: poetry was all process. And she would bet anything that he worked (not for a living, but for the pleasure and the reward of it). She didn’t ask him, because she didn’t want to sound interested in him.
“And you take no pleasure in the past, then?” Phyri remarked – she had observed his reaction to the Fantoma orb and was not polite enough to keep her curiosity to herself. She was as intrigued by this one as she had been the last – she was only considering whose organic matter she might procure and actually find worthy of experiencing.
a sublime set by Lady! <3