Andrew Kirke prefers walking, thank you. (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} groundedkirke) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} sixdegreesrpg,@ 2009-05-05 16:10:00 |
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WHO: Andrew Kirke, Blythe Phillips
WHAT: When hallucinations come true.
WHERE: Andy's flat.
WHEN: Monday evening, 4th May, 1999
RATING: PG (language)
STATUS: Complete
Irritated by the lack of support he was receiving from the people who allegedly cared about him, Andrew tossed his quill onto the desk in a display of annoyance not oft seen -- even in private! -- and decided that it was high time he brewed himself a cup of tea, perhaps to calm himself down. After all, the stage of his apprenticeship (that he really wasn't all that passionate about in the first place) that he was currently up to was difficult and stressful and his manuals weren't making any sense to him. Let alone his ability to perform the practical tasks.
If it was him reading someone else freak out? He would promptly Apparate to their place of residence and assist in such a time of need, he would!
So lost in his thoughts was he that he almost didn't notice the fact that there was a young girl standing in the middle of his kitchen -- frozen, eyes as wide as a pair of car headlights, and dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and one of his shirts.
A very long, awkward silence ensued.
"Who the fuck are you?!" he demanded, finding his voice at very last.
WHAT: When hallucinations come true.
WHERE: Andy's flat.
WHEN: Monday evening, 4th May, 1999
RATING: PG (language)
STATUS: Complete
Irritated by the lack of support he was receiving from the people who allegedly cared about him, Andrew tossed his quill onto the desk in a display of annoyance not oft seen -- even in private! -- and decided that it was high time he brewed himself a cup of tea, perhaps to calm himself down. After all, the stage of his apprenticeship (that he really wasn't all that passionate about in the first place) that he was currently up to was difficult and stressful and his manuals weren't making any sense to him. Let alone his ability to perform the practical tasks.
If it was him reading someone else freak out? He would promptly Apparate to their place of residence and assist in such a time of need, he would!
So lost in his thoughts was he that he almost didn't notice the fact that there was a young girl standing in the middle of his kitchen -- frozen, eyes as wide as a pair of car headlights, and dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and one of his shirts.
A very long, awkward silence ensued.
"Who the fuck are you?!" he demanded, finding his voice at very last.