Rupert Giles (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} giles_watching) wrote,@ 2006-02-26 12:17:00 |
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[The mun is thinking of getting Giles out of the office and have him show a little of the Ripper in him. He probably will be interacting belovedchaos, and they may be alternating updates on what's happening within the boundaries of the prompts of TM. That's the plan. It may change.]
Write about an overheard remark or secret that you were not supposed to have heard
He looks at the gray sky, knowing that it’s liable to stay that color for another month. He complained mightily about California’s persistent sun and waxed poetic about the misty motherland. Now that he’s back he feels the romance of the image is decidedly threadbare.
He feels caged, shut up in a space too small. He’s head of a worldwide organization, yes, true. It’s also true the Council has about a twentieth of the resources it once did. The Slayers’ mission is world-wide and to keep it going he hasn’t been out this office for, well, he can’t remember when it hasn’t been a groove between his flat and this office.
He decides to do a little “walk about” in the building. See what everybody else is up to. He grabs a file off the desk and heads for the door. The file is to make him look purposeful; plus, he can plead the press of work if someone tries to corner him. He strides past his assistant who doesn’t even look up from her work. Andrew’s door is open but he’s not in the room. Giles heads for the training room.
Several girls are engaged in hand-to-hand. He slips into the room and watches for a while, admiring their energy and grace. He catches himself drifting from introspection about elegant ballets to something more earthy, pulls his thoughts away from the girls and leaves the gymnasium.
With a sigh, he resigns himself to fixing a cup of tea for himself in the caf, and going back to finish some paperwork. Pushing the door of the cafeteria slightly, he hears voices inside and hesitates. It’s Andrew and two or three of the Slayers. “Oh, no. I mean it. It’s totally true. Mr. Giles can absolutely kick demon ass. I’ve seen him.” Andrew is at his most emphatic.
There’s giggling now. “All right, if you say so, Andrew,” another voice says. Giles is certain from the tone that there’s eye-rolling involved. He steps back into the hallway, to return to his office.
Passing through the outer office again, he asks Miranda to bring his calendar in; he needs to free up some time. Something’s come up and he may have to go out of town.
belovedchaos, and they may be alternating updates on what's happening within the boundaries of the prompts of TM. That's the plan. It may change.]Write about an overheard remark or secret that you were not supposed to have heard
He looks at the gray sky, knowing that it’s liable to stay that color for another month. He complained mightily about California’s persistent sun and waxed poetic about the misty motherland. Now that he’s back he feels the romance of the image is decidedly threadbare.
He feels caged, shut up in a space too small. He’s head of a worldwide organization, yes, true. It’s also true the Council has about a twentieth of the resources it once did. The Slayers’ mission is world-wide and to keep it going he hasn’t been out this office for, well, he can’t remember when it hasn’t been a groove between his flat and this office.
He decides to do a little “walk about” in the building. See what everybody else is up to. He grabs a file off the desk and heads for the door. The file is to make him look purposeful; plus, he can plead the press of work if someone tries to corner him. He strides past his assistant who doesn’t even look up from her work. Andrew’s door is open but he’s not in the room. Giles heads for the training room.
Several girls are engaged in hand-to-hand. He slips into the room and watches for a while, admiring their energy and grace. He catches himself drifting from introspection about elegant ballets to something more earthy, pulls his thoughts away from the girls and leaves the gymnasium.
With a sigh, he resigns himself to fixing a cup of tea for himself in the caf, and going back to finish some paperwork. Pushing the door of the cafeteria slightly, he hears voices inside and hesitates. It’s Andrew and two or three of the Slayers. “Oh, no. I mean it. It’s totally true. Mr. Giles can absolutely kick demon ass. I’ve seen him.” Andrew is at his most emphatic.
There’s giggling now. “All right, if you say so, Andrew,” another voice says. Giles is certain from the tone that there’s eye-rolling involved. He steps back into the hallway, to return to his office.
Passing through the outer office again, he asks Miranda to bring his calendar in; he needs to free up some time. Something’s come up and he may have to go out of town.
