Arthur Kirkland ☂ England (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rule_britannia) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sortinghat_logs2012-08-11 11:16 pm
rule_britannia) wrote in sortinghat_logs2012-08-11 11:16 pm
Entry tags:
The friend is the man who knows all about you...
WHO: Arthur Kirkland, Greg Lestrade
TONE: Let's go with friendly.
RATING: G
WHEN: Sunday 12th August
WHERE: London
WHAT: Arthur meets up with Greg to get away from his family for a while.
STATUS: Ongoing.
It was Sunday morning, and amidst the bustling London morning a teenager with scruffy blond hair and thick eyebrows hurried out of a hotel, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Never hurt to be prepared. He looked back, scowled, and rubbed his arm, before descending the steps towards the street and glancing down to check his watch.
"Half eight," he muttered to himself. "Bloody hellish time. Why did I agree to this?"
Another twinge in his arm reminded him, and he frowned again, moving down to the pavement and putting himself out of sight of the front of the hotel to wait for Greg. Everything had already been cleared with his mother, who was just glad he had some friends that he wanted to spend time with, and he'd managed to avoid his brothers' questionings with only a punch on the arm for his trouble.
He perched on a wall outside the hotel and watched the people passing by as he waited, kicking his heels against the dusty brick.
TONE: Let's go with friendly.
RATING: G
WHEN: Sunday 12th August
WHERE: London
WHAT: Arthur meets up with Greg to get away from his family for a while.
STATUS: Ongoing.
It was Sunday morning, and amidst the bustling London morning a teenager with scruffy blond hair and thick eyebrows hurried out of a hotel, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Never hurt to be prepared. He looked back, scowled, and rubbed his arm, before descending the steps towards the street and glancing down to check his watch.
"Half eight," he muttered to himself. "Bloody hellish time. Why did I agree to this?"
Another twinge in his arm reminded him, and he frowned again, moving down to the pavement and putting himself out of sight of the front of the hotel to wait for Greg. Everything had already been cleared with his mother, who was just glad he had some friends that he wanted to spend time with, and he'd managed to avoid his brothers' questionings with only a punch on the arm for his trouble.
He perched on a wall outside the hotel and watched the people passing by as he waited, kicking his heels against the dusty brick.
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I don't suppose there's anything to be done to change his mind.
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Hopefully your dad isn't as pigheaded as mine can be.
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But he doesn't pay that much attention to me. He hasn't since I was a child.
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My father.. Well. He works hard too, but that's not why he has no time for me. I.. I've never told you this, but.. I haven't told anyone. Bruce doesn't even know.
[He sighs]
I was almost written off as a squib when I was younger.
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Is that a bad thing? I mean, squibs happen right?
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[He rubs one thumb against his temple]
It's never happened before. Not in my family. I already look different enough from all of them. He was accusing my mother of having a bloody affair because I obviously couldn't be his fucking son when I don't have the same hair colour as my brothers or parents and show absolutely no magical tendencies whatsoever. It was embarrassing for him to potentially have squib for a son.
[Arthur slumps back a little in his seat. His voice had dropped as if trying to resist the urge to shout]
Spent my whole sodding life trying to show him I can be just as good as them but I refuse to go sniffing about his heels for scraps of attention whenever he decides to grace us with his presence.
[He pauses, frowns again]
.. Sorry. I got a little ahead of myself there. You didn't need to know all of that.