[center][h2][color=f7941d]Troy Franklin[/color][/h2][/center]

[color=gray]A dark cloud could almost certainly be felt radiating out of the fourth room on floor forty. The absolute despair of a young man faced with a neigh impossible task, one which would certainly be a tale told throughout the future annals of the Peregrine, was palpable. How did a boy of only eleven years manage to completely demolish a room in a mere day. Even with magic to repair the shattered mirror or broken shower head, it would still be quite the labor to get everything back in order after Troy Franklin, a name more befitting a hurricane than a child, had stayed in this room.

Troy himself was acting unperturbed by the terrible state he had left his temporary residence in and though certainly attempting to deny the trouble he would most certainly find himself in before much longer, he was occupying his time searching through one of the many piles of clothes strewn about the room. True to that point, Troy finally found -something- suitable to wear. 

With the towel around his waist now discarded flippantly to some far flung corner of the room he slowly hobbled himself back towards the bed. After seating himself it was not all that much of a hassle to cloth himself in proper undergarments and his Quentin Kowalski, chaser for the American National Quidditch Team, jersey. There was only a minor hassle in getting his jeans on, his 'bad' foot just didn't feel like co-operating today it seemed. 

After sliding on some socks and tying up his shoes he was once again struck at the sight, [i] What does the sole even do?[/i]. True enough, his club-foot was tilted at some odd ninety degree angle from his leg leaving the side of the shoe to take the brunt of the impact as he walked. Troy gathered his cane up in his right hand before lifting himself from his bed and looking around the room. He can't help but mutter to himself while kicking some of his clothes closer to his bag, "I'm in so much trouble..."[i] I still have time to deal with it! I can... uh.. deal with it later.[/i]

With half muttered assurances the boy mentally prepared himself for the journey he was about to embark on.[i] Everyone else goes to the lounge on the ground floor, I should too! Plus I have to eat right? Forty floors isn't that much in the big picture. [/i] The common tapping of his cane was quite muted upon the carpeted floor of the Peregrine as he made his way down the hall of floor forty back in the direction of the grand staircase.

The long 'walk' down the staircase really took their toll on Troy, his normal youthful vigor not quite enough for forty flights of stairs. Often times older students would glance sidelong at the young boy taking each step slowly and with a deathly grip on the railing. Though many of their faces expressed concern in his plight, most passed on down the stairs in silence and the few that offered him assistance were quickly waved off by the stubborn boy. Kids near his own age were often worse, bumping into him and running up and down the stairs like hooligans as he tried to pass. 

Despite the minor hurdles in his trek and with only a single stop on floor twelve to catch his breath, Troy managed to make it to the lounge. The loud sounds of laughter and merriment met him far before he managed to see into the lounge itself and did little to prepare him for the sight itself. With it being the last night of the Peregrine's nation wide trip the lounge was more a party then a simple place to chill with friends

Wading his way through the sea of bodies Troy made his way to the bar, the only place he could find with 'staff', and attempted to get their attention, "Do you know where I can find some food?" [/color]