[LOG] Urahara, [IN PROG.]

[pomppsycho]

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

Comments

[energizerbunneh]

Pyon had gotten...distracted on her way to therapy.

Okay so she had actually just tried to completely ignore the fact that she had therapy in favor of locating some delightful frying pans, colouring tools, and her greatest find of the day, a very pretty blue flower.

Maybe if she was really nice, Urahara sir would deliver it to the sad lady.

Or maybe since he said she could be Queen she could just expect him to do so! But Pyon, though she lacked every possible definition and synonym in her knowledge for 'personal space' and 'privacy', didn't often assume people would do what she wanted. In fact, she assumed just the opposite and spent a fair amount of her time trying to do things before other people got around to doing them some other way and inevitably messing the whole world up because you know, then what?

Yeah.

Upon entering, Pyon was greeted with the sight of a crew that could properly be called motley, though that perhaps came before its time in combination form, and not particularly drawn to the scene before her, Pyon considered her options very briefly before nodding to herself.

"ORANGEY! APRICOT! STRAWBERRY! STRAWCOT! ORANSTROT!" she tried different combinations of her names for him while launching herself at the boy in the chair, stopping only centimeters away. "HI." Followed up with a wide, almost sweet grin, Pyon waved wildly in his face before all but leaping onto Urahara's desk and perching there.

"PYON! PRESENT! ...Urahara, sir!" she greeted with a salute with her 'borrowed' frying pan before eyeing everyone as if to say: hi, how are you, and would you like to meet my frying pan of general doom and all other things debatably cheerful. In her other, safe, questionably still hand, she held the flower with unexpected delicacy. One had to wonder if the two hands had separate brains as she proceeded to bean Urahara none too lightly with the pan. It certainly wasn’t a hard enough hit to hurt anyone much, less someone with a skull as thick as the hatter, but it made a wonderful GONG sound, which resulted in some minor squealing on Pyon’s part.