let's all get up and dance to a song
WHO: ANDY BERNARD and KATURIAN KATURIAN
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: Saturday, during visiting hours.
WARNINGS: Nothing, probably.
SUMMARY: Andy delivers Katurian a song.
FORMAT: Para?
The hospital was large and more than just a little bit creepy; definitely a hospital, but he'd never been to a mental asylum before and had no idea what to expect beyond the front doors. The most recent experience he had to compare was from his production of Sweeney Todd -- and even Andy knew that play was not the portrait of realism. He took a moment at the front door to take off his roller skates, tucking them into his shoulder-bag.
Dressed in pastel colors (except for his red pants and black coat), he hummed quietly to himself as he signed himself in at the front desk. He wandered, from there, a bit awkwardly, feeling nervous and rubbing his hands on his sides a lot. Trying to smile professionally and not look like he was going to cry. This was his first telegram (or "Andygram", as that blonde had so cleverly coined) and the buyer was someone Andy was not looking to disappoint. This had to go well, or else.
He double-checked the patient information he was given, and walked down the hallway with more purpose. By the time he reached his destination, Andy was already feeling more confident, and smiled pleasantly at Katurian, flowers in hand.
"Delivery! Hope I'm not interrupting anything important," he said, not apologetic, "but what I have is pretty urgent. Rush delivery and everything, though sadly not quite in time for New Years. Come on, you gonna sign for it?"
Andy made a signature motion in the air with his hand.
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: Saturday, during visiting hours.
WARNINGS: Nothing, probably.
SUMMARY: Andy delivers Katurian a song.
FORMAT: Para?
The hospital was large and more than just a little bit creepy; definitely a hospital, but he'd never been to a mental asylum before and had no idea what to expect beyond the front doors. The most recent experience he had to compare was from his production of Sweeney Todd -- and even Andy knew that play was not the portrait of realism. He took a moment at the front door to take off his roller skates, tucking them into his shoulder-bag.
Dressed in pastel colors (except for his red pants and black coat), he hummed quietly to himself as he signed himself in at the front desk. He wandered, from there, a bit awkwardly, feeling nervous and rubbing his hands on his sides a lot. Trying to smile professionally and not look like he was going to cry. This was his first telegram (or "Andygram", as that blonde had so cleverly coined) and the buyer was someone Andy was not looking to disappoint. This had to go well, or else.
He double-checked the patient information he was given, and walked down the hallway with more purpose. By the time he reached his destination, Andy was already feeling more confident, and smiled pleasantly at Katurian, flowers in hand.
"Delivery! Hope I'm not interrupting anything important," he said, not apologetic, "but what I have is pretty urgent. Rush delivery and everything, though sadly not quite in time for New Years. Come on, you gonna sign for it?"
Andy made a signature motion in the air with his hand.