Fred Weasley (battleforged) wrote in flippedrpg, @ 2012-10-18 17:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | ch: can: fred weasley, p: christie |
Who: Fred Weasley (and potentially open, tag in if you like!)
When: 18 October, dinner time
Where: the cafeteria
What: Fred has a hunger
Status: complete narrative, open log
Communications experiments were the worst; even (or especially when) they were hilarious. Zeta was usually pretty cool for an old bird. In a lot of ways, she reminded Fred of McGonagall, or even a little Mum: tough as nails but not without a sense of humour. Fred could appreciate that.
He hadn't noticed, immersed in potions as he had been. This was the perfect world (well not as perfect as candyland, but a perfect) world to work in prank confectionery, and that had always been one of his favorites. But when he had gone to sigh and let out a funereal and savage moan, Fred had thought something might be up. When he had held out his hand for a knife and asked for flesh, it rather confirmed it. So he'd gone back to work in relative silence.
Silence was easier when there was no George to complete his thoughts. But it had been a long day, and when the only food handy was a batch of gilly beans or scaly pops, Fred figured it was time to go and face the world.
He had a hunger, and it wasn't for people (at least there was that), though you'd never know by asking.
Fred took a tray and helped himself to silverwear and rolls, and fruit; whatever there was in arm's reach, but the Assistant standing behind the counter looked at him expectantly: this dinner, at least, wasn't entirely self-service. But it looked good.
Fred shrugged and gestured at the counter. He wanted to say he'd like the roast beef, but what came out was a savage snarl. "Grr..." Fred curled his hand into a fist, trying to focus through the experiment. "Brai..."
"GrrrrAAINNNS"
It was a pasta sort of night anyway.