Zach (ex_bridges_b70) wrote in regulation, @ 2008-04-16 22:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | theodore nott, zacharias smith |
Who: Theodore Nott and Zacharias Smith
Where: Near the Brixton Windmill
When: Thursday, April 17, during the school/work day
What: Hm. Chance encounter. Or so Zach thinks. *cue evil music here*
Rating: TBD for hot monkeysex
Status: Open; in progress
His back was pressed against the park bench as he laid on, long legs curled up so that he could rest his sketchbook on his knees. The windmill was casting long shadows against the paper, making it difficult to see the paler lines grazing the page and Zach increased the pressure, making every line thicker and darker as he watched the turbines tilting with the wind. It was a brilliant day, the sun so sharp and clear that it burnt the eye and he blinked hard as the shutters of shadow flickered against his face.
In the distance, the sound of sirens ruptured the peace, blaring, wheeling lights shining against the tips of his battered trainers, flashes of yellow and blue against the pavement. Airplanes roared overhead, the slapping sound of a jump rope hit ground, the choking acid of smoke tarred his lungs as he breathed it all in. For all of that, Brixton was comfortable in a way that the alleys of Diagon would never be. It reminded him of home.