[LOG] Urahara, [IN PROG.]
Title: Kick The Sand
Characters: Urahara, open to Urahara's patients, anyone who wants to show up. He's cool with this.
Locale: Kisuke Urahara's office, institute
Timeframe: ?
What: Urahara has interesting ideas about what is appropriate and helpful.
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for Urahara.
Urahara opened the picture window in his office, batting away the curtains in annoyance when they decided to tickle him in the face from the slight spring breeze, shuffling an open Scarlet Pimpernel volume on his heavy dark-wood desk, scattering some notes made on loose pieces of paper to the floor. He sighed and ignored them, only looking over his shoulder to make sure his bookmark was still in the book he had been reading, as opposed to doing actual work.
Otherwise he would have had to figure out his place again. He shrugged and turned back to the window. As much as he did enjoy his work, in some ways, he would enjoy being outside just as much. A nap would do nicely, in this weather, and maybe something fruity to drink. He would rather be out in the garden on some ornamental stone bench, considering the character of Chauvelin. They would be here any minute now, except for the ones who wouldn't, because they were the kind of late that was on time, in their individual cases.
It was time to consider the characters of real people, as opposed to fictional ones. It was sad, in a way, when he had to do this. Fiction was so much more forgiving than reality. Look at the case of Kurosaki. Look at any of his patients.
Characters: Urahara, open to Urahara's patients, anyone who wants to show up. He's cool with this.
Locale: Kisuke Urahara's office, institute
Timeframe: ?
What: Urahara has interesting ideas about what is appropriate and helpful.
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for Urahara.
Urahara opened the picture window in his office, batting away the curtains in annoyance when they decided to tickle him in the face from the slight spring breeze, shuffling an open Scarlet Pimpernel volume on his heavy dark-wood desk, scattering some notes made on loose pieces of paper to the floor. He sighed and ignored them, only looking over his shoulder to make sure his bookmark was still in the book he had been reading, as opposed to doing actual work.
Otherwise he would have had to figure out his place again. He shrugged and turned back to the window. As much as he did enjoy his work, in some ways, he would enjoy being outside just as much. A nap would do nicely, in this weather, and maybe something fruity to drink. He would rather be out in the garden on some ornamental stone bench, considering the character of Chauvelin. They would be here any minute now, except for the ones who wouldn't, because they were the kind of late that was on time, in their individual cases.
It was time to consider the characters of real people, as opposed to fictional ones. It was sad, in a way, when he had to do this. Fiction was so much more forgiving than reality. Look at the case of Kurosaki. Look at any of his patients.