RP: A Role Reversal, of Sorts
Date: 20 March 2005
Characters: Ted Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks
Location: 111 Albus Ave.
Status: Private
Summary: Daddy's little girl is about to learn one of the hardest lessons about getting older.
Completion: Incomplete
It's only your imagination...
A lot of people liked days like this, blue sky filled with huge, pillowy clouds, ever-changing from one fantasy shape into another as they slowly swept across the sky. He used to like them too.
Now, though, these were the days he dreaded. The shifting shadows that crawled down from the window frames and across the floor, the way the sun was blotted out without warning, the wind moaning in the trees and through the cracks in the walls; it felt like nature was deliberately conspiring to set his nerves on edge. Andy had assured him that this lingering side effect from his imprisonment, a sort of hyper-sensitive battle instinct (which was her diplomatic way of saying "paranoia") would fade over time, as long as he didn't indulge it. In other words, no prowling the windows, scanning for things outside that weren't there.
For the tenth, or possibly hundredth time since lunch, he shifted on the settee and tried to focus on the pages of the book in his lap, pointedly ignoring the clouds outside.
The light level dimmed again and his eyes snapped up without conscious direction.
He rubbed his forehead with the palm of one hand and sighed. Damn it.
Characters: Ted Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks
Location: 111 Albus Ave.
Status: Private
Summary: Daddy's little girl is about to learn one of the hardest lessons about getting older.
Completion: Incomplete
It's only your imagination...
A lot of people liked days like this, blue sky filled with huge, pillowy clouds, ever-changing from one fantasy shape into another as they slowly swept across the sky. He used to like them too.
Now, though, these were the days he dreaded. The shifting shadows that crawled down from the window frames and across the floor, the way the sun was blotted out without warning, the wind moaning in the trees and through the cracks in the walls; it felt like nature was deliberately conspiring to set his nerves on edge. Andy had assured him that this lingering side effect from his imprisonment, a sort of hyper-sensitive battle instinct (which was her diplomatic way of saying "paranoia") would fade over time, as long as he didn't indulge it. In other words, no prowling the windows, scanning for things outside that weren't there.
For the tenth, or possibly hundredth time since lunch, he shifted on the settee and tried to focus on the pages of the book in his lap, pointedly ignoring the clouds outside.
The light level dimmed again and his eyes snapped up without conscious direction.
He rubbed his forehead with the palm of one hand and sighed. Damn it.