02-21-2020, 05:46 AM
|
#57 (permalink)
|
Chimaera
Join Date: Oct 2006 Location: Baker Street
Posts: 30,197
Hogwarts RPG Name: Marcus Briody Cole Graduated Hogwarts RPG Name: Nadia Atreyu-Rehman Gryffindor Sixth Year x8 x8
| Toothless - Napoleon of Crime - Gryffinclaw - Owl Emissary - Pirate Auror - DoctorDonna Quote:
Originally Posted by BanaBatGirl At least the guy wasn't laughing at him. Fletcher could think of more than a few people who would have loved to get a photo of him covered in... well, owl poo, to put it politely.
"Har har," he replied, looking down at his nice suit. It HAD been a lovely khaki colour this morning, and was, it seemed, the perfect canvas. "Is it in my hair?!" Not his precious Glitterpuff hair that was insured for 10,000 galleons!!!!!!!!!
Fletcher was just going to have to go home and start this day over again. There was nothing else to it. "I didn't get to finish reading my paper," he mused, though it could probably come off as whining, "so I didn't see all the updates and things I missed over break." Naturally he'd left work at work, and had traveled somewhere warmer for the holidays. "But tell me, please, why are there bloody owls in the atrium?!"
NOW he made eye contact with the man, who was, at least, polite enough to entertain Fletcher for these few minutes. He imagined that he smelled even worse than he looked, so kudos to this familiar-looking guy for tolerating him. Is it in my hair?!
Given there was owl poop all over the man’s suit and shoes and he’d been laying on the floor in it, there was a good likelihood of there being some in his hair. Not that it didn’t seem to be an odd thing to be concerned in the overall grand scheme of things. Nevertheless, Simon picked his way around him, careful to not step in anything in the process, to inspect the situation. “Well there is a little bit,” the security man confessed as he came around the other side. Small bit on the very back of his head. Right…newspaper.
Simon retrieved the relatively untouched newspaper from his pocket to return to his companion. “The memo problem still hasn’t be fixed,” he remarked, figuring that he should at least have been aware of. “And since not everyone can cast patronus’ even non corporal ones, we seem to be stuck with owls. Which have turned the atrium into their owlery.” Except he couldn’t remember the one at Hogwarts being THIS bad.
Wait…Hogwarts…worrying about hair…and a better look at the man that was now meeting his gaze. “Fletcher?”
__________________ |
| |