(no subject)
Who: Nisha Chirag || Open
What: Little Afrit just got pulled from her College library and is prissy, confused as hell, and worried.
When: Somewhere in the afternoon.
Where: Somewhere in a lounge. On a couch.
Warnings: TBA
Nisha was still getting her bearings.
This wasn't her college library. And she was sure she had been in her college library. But yet here she was now, in this seemingly very big house, sitting on a couch that she would have otherwise found very comfy is she wasn't so distressed as to where she actually was. And more importantly how she'd get back. Her mother would get worried if she wasn't back home soon. This is was probably the fifth or sixth time she had the same cycle of thoughts.
She turned her gaze upwards and glared at the ceiling. Wherever she was, it was pretty. She'd give it that much. At any other time she'd be exploring or more likely searching for the library, or kitchen. Bot not now. This place reeked of magic. She never did well with magic. It gave her headaches. Throbbing painful headaches.
"You're mean. I know you're responsible for this. Get me out of here." It was probably crazy talking to a house, much less scolding or threatening it, but irrationaly it made Nisha feel better. So she continued on, "If you don't, I swear I'll find a way to burn you to the ground. Or trash you. I can be very juvenile and creative about this."
What: Little Afrit just got pulled from her College library and is prissy, confused as hell, and worried.
When: Somewhere in the afternoon.
Where: Somewhere in a lounge. On a couch.
Warnings: TBA
Nisha was still getting her bearings.
This wasn't her college library. And she was sure she had been in her college library. But yet here she was now, in this seemingly very big house, sitting on a couch that she would have otherwise found very comfy is she wasn't so distressed as to where she actually was. And more importantly how she'd get back. Her mother would get worried if she wasn't back home soon. This is was probably the fifth or sixth time she had the same cycle of thoughts.
She turned her gaze upwards and glared at the ceiling. Wherever she was, it was pretty. She'd give it that much. At any other time she'd be exploring or more likely searching for the library, or kitchen. Bot not now. This place reeked of magic. She never did well with magic. It gave her headaches. Throbbing painful headaches.
"You're mean. I know you're responsible for this. Get me out of here." It was probably crazy talking to a house, much less scolding or threatening it, but irrationaly it made Nisha feel better. So she continued on, "If you don't, I swear I'll find a way to burn you to the ground. Or trash you. I can be very juvenile and creative about this."