(no subject)
Week Name/Date/Time: 'A Meeting of the Minds' / Sunday, 25nd, September / 8PM
Location: Genie's office
Open To: Gil
Currently Involving: Genie, Gil
Genie rubbed fingers against her temples as her eyes closed tightly. "Merlin," she said in a quiet, low, somewhat grievious tone. "Was that my one good will of the year? I mean, seriously... I've done my duty when it comes to helping people out, right?" Her eyes opened as she looked at Gil with a gaze that read that she actually was somewhat serious.
"Love the bleeding kids, I really do, but sometimes they're overly tiring."
Genie's perfect evening in no way included a visit from some student who wanted nothing more than some bloody dream interpretation that she had been in no way willing to give. The meaning behind say... fluffy unicorns? She could do that. Perhaps a thought or two on what might have caused her to dream about sparkling stars or jungle treehouses or, hell, even frolicks through great green pastures with carolling bunny rabbits. She'd have taken anything but what she had been given if it meant that she didn't have to talk about that.
She was this close to calling off the event she had planned that evening just out of spite for the world, but no, Gil apparently -- or possibly -- deserved better... blah blah blah; who knew?
Location: Genie's office
Open To: Gil
Currently Involving: Genie, Gil
Genie rubbed fingers against her temples as her eyes closed tightly. "Merlin," she said in a quiet, low, somewhat grievious tone. "Was that my one good will of the year? I mean, seriously... I've done my duty when it comes to helping people out, right?" Her eyes opened as she looked at Gil with a gaze that read that she actually was somewhat serious.
"Love the bleeding kids, I really do, but sometimes they're overly tiring."
Genie's perfect evening in no way included a visit from some student who wanted nothing more than some bloody dream interpretation that she had been in no way willing to give. The meaning behind say... fluffy unicorns? She could do that. Perhaps a thought or two on what might have caused her to dream about sparkling stars or jungle treehouses or, hell, even frolicks through great green pastures with carolling bunny rabbits. She'd have taken anything but what she had been given if it meant that she didn't have to talk about that.
She was this close to calling off the event she had planned that evening just out of spite for the world, but no, Gil apparently -- or possibly -- deserved better... blah blah blah; who knew?