Date: July 13, 2005
Date: July 13, 2005
Characters: Dennis Creevey, Marcus Flint, (Padma?)
Location: Near the cinema, a block or 2 away)
Status: Public
Summary: On his way home from the cinema, Dennis runs into a smelly problem, and a stranger(s)
Completion: Incomplete
Dennis wasn't regulalry forgetful, aside from names. Mutliple examples of forgettfulness were fairly rare occurances, but this Friday the 13th was proving to be one of monumental proportions.
He'd neglected to set his alarm the night before, so woke up late, and the rest of the day followed from there. In a rush, he'd thrown together a smoothie and then wondered why it was so watery. It was only on his lunch break, and he'd also came up empty in that department as somehow he had managed not to pack one, that he recalled he left out the banana.
4 times people has asked him what was showing that night (even though Katie had adverts up outside) and Dennis couldn't remember. He attributed all of this to trying to help out with the World Cup, work on and at the cinema, keep the garden flourishing, and trying out recipes for smoothies, as well as mulling on taking up the offer of tutoring that Mr. Dearborn had suggested. All in all, that was enough to make anyone a bit absent minded.
It wasn't until he was walking home, he'd left his broom at home as well, that the forgettfulness turned a bit more troublesome. Passing what looked to be a deserted building, he was overtaken by the most Godawful stench. The most he could do as he felt himself start to cough, and his chest tightned was to stumble/run as best he could away from it. Was someone using that as a potions lab, or had something died in there?
Far enough away that he couldn't smell it anymore, he dropped to the curb and frantically rummaged through his knapsack, coming up only with his old inhaler not the potions that Luna had given him, nor the allergy potiions either. Pumping the inhaler and breathing as deeply as he could, he tried to call himself. The coughing was finally subsiding but he knew he didn't have the energy to get the rest of the way home just yet, not while he was still wheezing heavily. Reaching once more for his bottle of water he misjudged the distance (and it didn't help that his hand was shaky) and knocked it over, watching water spill as the bottle rolled and hit someone's shoes.
"Fuck!" Or that's what he thought, what came out sounded more like a tire with the air being let out of it.
Characters: Dennis Creevey, Marcus Flint, (Padma?)
Location: Near the cinema, a block or 2 away)
Status: Public
Summary: On his way home from the cinema, Dennis runs into a smelly problem, and a stranger(s)
Completion: Incomplete
Dennis wasn't regulalry forgetful, aside from names. Mutliple examples of forgettfulness were fairly rare occurances, but this Friday the 13th was proving to be one of monumental proportions.
He'd neglected to set his alarm the night before, so woke up late, and the rest of the day followed from there. In a rush, he'd thrown together a smoothie and then wondered why it was so watery. It was only on his lunch break, and he'd also came up empty in that department as somehow he had managed not to pack one, that he recalled he left out the banana.
4 times people has asked him what was showing that night (even though Katie had adverts up outside) and Dennis couldn't remember. He attributed all of this to trying to help out with the World Cup, work on and at the cinema, keep the garden flourishing, and trying out recipes for smoothies, as well as mulling on taking up the offer of tutoring that Mr. Dearborn had suggested. All in all, that was enough to make anyone a bit absent minded.
It wasn't until he was walking home, he'd left his broom at home as well, that the forgettfulness turned a bit more troublesome. Passing what looked to be a deserted building, he was overtaken by the most Godawful stench. The most he could do as he felt himself start to cough, and his chest tightned was to stumble/run as best he could away from it. Was someone using that as a potions lab, or had something died in there?
Far enough away that he couldn't smell it anymore, he dropped to the curb and frantically rummaged through his knapsack, coming up only with his old inhaler not the potions that Luna had given him, nor the allergy potiions either. Pumping the inhaler and breathing as deeply as he could, he tried to call himself. The coughing was finally subsiding but he knew he didn't have the energy to get the rest of the way home just yet, not while he was still wheezing heavily. Reaching once more for his bottle of water he misjudged the distance (and it didn't help that his hand was shaky) and knocked it over, watching water spill as the bottle rolled and hit someone's shoes.
"Fuck!" Or that's what he thought, what came out sounded more like a tire with the air being let out of it.