(no subject)
WHO: Annabeth Chase and Open
WHERE: Outside her townhouse apartment
WHEN: Thursday.
WARNINGS: Probably not.
SUMMARY: Annabeth is finally cleaning out her apartment from two months of dust and replacing some furniture. Feel free to bother her.
FORMAT: Whatever.
Annabeth had put off cleaning her apartment in favor of making sure her business still existed, but now that she'd managed to reestablish enough of it so that she wasn't worried about going broke, she was turning to more personal tasks.
Like cleaning and throwing things away.
There was a slowly growing pile of trash bags on the sidewalk outside of her apartment, filled with dirt and junk and other things she'd been meaning to get rid of but never had. Even a few wooden folding chairs had made the trip out. Annabeth appeared every once in a while, dressed in a blue tanktop and a pair of shorts, her blonde hair tugged back in a ponytail, with a new bag or thing to be thrown away. She had those occasional dirt smudges on her clothes and skin that came from heavy duty cleaning.
At the moment, the blonde was very, very slowly dragging a heavy, rather worn wooden desk out, standing beneath it and bracing it as it slid down the four steps from her front door to the sidewalk, finally stopping once it was on the sidewalk and flopping down to sit on it and catch her breath.
WHERE: Outside her townhouse apartment
WHEN: Thursday.
WARNINGS: Probably not.
SUMMARY: Annabeth is finally cleaning out her apartment from two months of dust and replacing some furniture. Feel free to bother her.
FORMAT: Whatever.
Annabeth had put off cleaning her apartment in favor of making sure her business still existed, but now that she'd managed to reestablish enough of it so that she wasn't worried about going broke, she was turning to more personal tasks.
Like cleaning and throwing things away.
There was a slowly growing pile of trash bags on the sidewalk outside of her apartment, filled with dirt and junk and other things she'd been meaning to get rid of but never had. Even a few wooden folding chairs had made the trip out. Annabeth appeared every once in a while, dressed in a blue tanktop and a pair of shorts, her blonde hair tugged back in a ponytail, with a new bag or thing to be thrown away. She had those occasional dirt smudges on her clothes and skin that came from heavy duty cleaning.
At the moment, the blonde was very, very slowly dragging a heavy, rather worn wooden desk out, standing beneath it and bracing it as it slid down the four steps from her front door to the sidewalk, finally stopping once it was on the sidewalk and flopping down to sit on it and catch her breath.