<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/70/FinleyRav5.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Finley Clark (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=284413.msg14042093#msg14042093)<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>Same as picture, with jeans and black Converse<br/><strong>Blood Status:</strong>Halfblood<br/><strong>Wand</strong>: Fir | Dragon | 12 inches<br/><strong>House/Year</strong>: Ravenclaw | First<br/><strong>Date</strong>: Friday, 29 September 2017<br/><strong>Time/Day:</strong>Evening<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Black Lake Bonfire<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Who doesn't like a bonfire?<br/><strong>MOOD MUSIC:</strong>Breaking Benjamin - Psycho (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Y_a0PWlBr8)<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Open<strong>Mentioning:</strong>Aaric balor<br/><hr/><br/>The first month of school had gone roughly how Finley had been anticipating. It was hard and there were many things to adjust to. However, most of the subjects - other than the one created by the devil himself, Arithmancy - were fairly easy to grasp. At least for him. The difficult parts mostly involved every other aspect of school. Getting lost on his way to classes was a routine occurrence, despite trying to time the moving staircase on several occasions. Thankfully, he hadn't disappointed his family name by losing Ravenclaw any House points. At least not yet.<br/><br/>It was with a great sigh of contentment that he joined those collecting near the bonfire that evening. He wasn't sure who this Aaric Balor person was, other than that he was dubbed the host of the party. Not recognizing anyone immediately, Finley decided to keep his distance and occupy space near a rather large, somewhat creepy tree. He chose not to lean against it, just in case the thing started talking or something - must expect the unexpected, after all. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he tugged his inconspicuous, antique cigarette case (http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2769/4106495029_bf13b33eb1.jpg) out. After popping it open and pulling a hand-rolled cigarette free, Finley replaced the case where it belonged and retrieved his simple, black lighter.<br/><br/>After popping the filtered end into his mouth, he lit the tip of the cigarette, his free hand cupping the edge so that the lighter would not fail him. With a shake of his head, he returned the lighter to his back pocket. Every time he used it, he had to ask himself<em>why</em>. Now that he could openly and freely use magic, there was really no point in keeping a lighter on his person. Then again, he supposed, at least it was a backup plan, in case something went wrong with his magic. Or if, like tonight, he forgot to bring his wand with him. Taking a drag, he rolled his head to the side, exhaling the smoke like a pursed sigh, shoving his free hand into a pocket and allowing his gaze to wander over the others gathering.