RP: Just say please
Date: June 15th, 1998, morning
Characters: George Weasley, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet
Location: WWW
Status: Private
Summary: George does not take no for an answer
Completion: Complete
When Angelina got out of bed and staggered into the bathroom she found a note sitting in the sink. It had five words on it.
Ang, orgy bed now, please.
She rolled her eyes and stepped into the shower. Suspended in midair was a note. It had six words on it.
Ang, orgy bed, now, please, please.
She turned the water on and quite enjoyed seeing the water splash in wide circles around the magic that kept the note floating. Until she realized that she needed to put clothes back on, get her wand from the bedroom and counter-act the charm before she could actually take a shower.
In her knickers drawer, which was actually just a bin shoved under the bed since space was, nicely put, limited, she found another note. It had seven words on it.
Ang, orgy bed, now, please, please, please.
It would have been more amusing had the ink not soaked through the parchment and left a stain on her favourite pants.
She got dressed, somewhat distractedly, since a piece of paper had shot straight out of the wardrobe when she went to fetch a clean shirt, and had since been flapping around her head, just out of arm's reach. She finally managed to grab it, but only after getting a few decent paper cuts, and unfolded it. It had eight words on it.
Ang, orgy bed, now, please, please, please, please.
More than a little bit annoyed Angelina zapped the parchment with her wand and made it shrivel into nothing. She was starting to get a head ache.
There was a fifth note on the sofa. A sixth on the coffee table. A seventh on the stove. An eighth on the kitchen counter. A ninth perched on top of the loaf of bread. A tenth was stuck to the fridge. Each one repeated the word 'please' once more than the previous. When Angelina touched it the magnet that held the one on the fridge in place let out a wail. It took her almost a minute to realize that it was a high pitched version of George's voice repeating the same word until she was ready to drill a hole through her skull just so she wouldn't have to listen to it.
Interestingly enough nothing seemed to kill the charm. No spell she could think of, no threats, not even jumping on the blasted thing. George was good at charms. She... was not. Transfiguration was more her thing.
Angelina sighed and opened the fridge. There was a note Spello-taped to each item in there, down to every individual potato. She didn't need to read them, because they were singing to her. She slammed the fridge door closed. She was, however, hungry, so she opened it again. The singing grew shriller.
”I am better at Transfiguration”, she said thoughtfully and stalked back into the bedroom.
She must be alone in the flat, because the shrieking of the magnet and singing of the damn fridge would have waken anyone up. As a matter of fact, it would probably have woken Marcus bloody Flint up from his coma had he not been on the opposite side of the country. Frankly Angelina was a bit surprised that Ginny or Percy or whoever was down in the shop had not come running yet.
Angelina smiled the kind of wicked smile most people knew not to stay around to find out what it meant, aimed her want at the beds and concentrated.
The left bunk bed, home to Alicia, Katie and her, was swiftly transfigured into a banner, cover most of the ceiling. It was purple and hot pink and quite sparkly. With the space cleared she took quite a bit of joy in returning the so called orgy bed. Only with a few... embellishments. Namely, two very frilly pillows, embroidered in cursive. The one labeled Lee was purple. The one bearing George's name was pink. The duvet was covered in hearts and rainbows.
Angelina smirked.
She summoned a quill and a piece of parchment and wrote a quick note before tacking it to the door of the bedroom.
You two are not nearly as subtle as you would like to think. We are girls, not stupid.
PS. I do not have PMS.
She closed the door, pocketed her wand and left the flat. The kitchen was still saying please, and Angelina decided to have breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal it was time for, in Diagon Alley. Possibly she would have time to look for a job as well.
She was in a strangely good mood.
Characters: George Weasley, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet
Location: WWW
Status: Private
Summary: George does not take no for an answer
Completion: Complete
When Angelina got out of bed and staggered into the bathroom she found a note sitting in the sink. It had five words on it.
Ang, orgy bed now, please.
She rolled her eyes and stepped into the shower. Suspended in midair was a note. It had six words on it.
Ang, orgy bed, now, please, please.
She turned the water on and quite enjoyed seeing the water splash in wide circles around the magic that kept the note floating. Until she realized that she needed to put clothes back on, get her wand from the bedroom and counter-act the charm before she could actually take a shower.
In her knickers drawer, which was actually just a bin shoved under the bed since space was, nicely put, limited, she found another note. It had seven words on it.
Ang, orgy bed, now, please, please, please.
It would have been more amusing had the ink not soaked through the parchment and left a stain on her favourite pants.
She got dressed, somewhat distractedly, since a piece of paper had shot straight out of the wardrobe when she went to fetch a clean shirt, and had since been flapping around her head, just out of arm's reach. She finally managed to grab it, but only after getting a few decent paper cuts, and unfolded it. It had eight words on it.
Ang, orgy bed, now, please, please, please, please.
More than a little bit annoyed Angelina zapped the parchment with her wand and made it shrivel into nothing. She was starting to get a head ache.
There was a fifth note on the sofa. A sixth on the coffee table. A seventh on the stove. An eighth on the kitchen counter. A ninth perched on top of the loaf of bread. A tenth was stuck to the fridge. Each one repeated the word 'please' once more than the previous. When Angelina touched it the magnet that held the one on the fridge in place let out a wail. It took her almost a minute to realize that it was a high pitched version of George's voice repeating the same word until she was ready to drill a hole through her skull just so she wouldn't have to listen to it.
Interestingly enough nothing seemed to kill the charm. No spell she could think of, no threats, not even jumping on the blasted thing. George was good at charms. She... was not. Transfiguration was more her thing.
Angelina sighed and opened the fridge. There was a note Spello-taped to each item in there, down to every individual potato. She didn't need to read them, because they were singing to her. She slammed the fridge door closed. She was, however, hungry, so she opened it again. The singing grew shriller.
”I am better at Transfiguration”, she said thoughtfully and stalked back into the bedroom.
She must be alone in the flat, because the shrieking of the magnet and singing of the damn fridge would have waken anyone up. As a matter of fact, it would probably have woken Marcus bloody Flint up from his coma had he not been on the opposite side of the country. Frankly Angelina was a bit surprised that Ginny or Percy or whoever was down in the shop had not come running yet.
Angelina smiled the kind of wicked smile most people knew not to stay around to find out what it meant, aimed her want at the beds and concentrated.
The left bunk bed, home to Alicia, Katie and her, was swiftly transfigured into a banner, cover most of the ceiling. It was purple and hot pink and quite sparkly. With the space cleared she took quite a bit of joy in returning the so called orgy bed. Only with a few... embellishments. Namely, two very frilly pillows, embroidered in cursive. The one labeled Lee was purple. The one bearing George's name was pink. The duvet was covered in hearts and rainbows.
Angelina smirked.
She summoned a quill and a piece of parchment and wrote a quick note before tacking it to the door of the bedroom.
You two are not nearly as subtle as you would like to think. We are girls, not stupid.
PS. I do not have PMS.
She closed the door, pocketed her wand and left the flat. The kitchen was still saying please, and Angelina decided to have breakfast, or lunch, or whatever meal it was time for, in Diagon Alley. Possibly she would have time to look for a job as well.
She was in a strangely good mood.