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Where do you find a little outcast, who's been on the run his whole life? Where do you find a little outcast whose twin brother killed him in cold blood two months ago?
The one place where he knows he'll be somewhat comfortable, at least, or where you'd expect any waif to be, in a mansion: although it's far from winter, he's almost always by the stove in the kitchen, stripped down to his old, holey t-shirt and likewise worn jeans, feet bare, working on something that's managed to keep him exceptionally busy both mentally and bodily, keeping him in both aspects away from his aforementioned brother and what happens when around him.
Castor Lestrange has been cooking.
Because he was raised in a magical household he's never really had an idea of how to use a stove the muggle way. However, being in a (basically) muggle house has taught him to improvise, to figure out how things work, tentatively if necessary, and while at first he stayed with cold cuts and whole foods, he's now begun to master the canned goods in the cupboards, mixing chicken broth and packaged ramen and canned vegetables together in a nutritious if dubious mix. The strangeness of the food doesn't bother him, however-- he'll wolf down just about anything he makes for himself.
The smells might waft out into the rooms beyond, attracting others to what they might deem a delicious scent or a nauseous stench; Castor will explain, and he'll also share.
The one place where he knows he'll be somewhat comfortable, at least, or where you'd expect any waif to be, in a mansion: although it's far from winter, he's almost always by the stove in the kitchen, stripped down to his old, holey t-shirt and likewise worn jeans, feet bare, working on something that's managed to keep him exceptionally busy both mentally and bodily, keeping him in both aspects away from his aforementioned brother and what happens when around him.
Castor Lestrange has been cooking.
Because he was raised in a magical household he's never really had an idea of how to use a stove the muggle way. However, being in a (basically) muggle house has taught him to improvise, to figure out how things work, tentatively if necessary, and while at first he stayed with cold cuts and whole foods, he's now begun to master the canned goods in the cupboards, mixing chicken broth and packaged ramen and canned vegetables together in a nutritious if dubious mix. The strangeness of the food doesn't bother him, however-- he'll wolf down just about anything he makes for himself.
The smells might waft out into the rooms beyond, attracting others to what they might deem a delicious scent or a nauseous stench; Castor will explain, and he'll also share.