Example of Third Person RP
Location: Marcus Flitwick's house, London
Date: 21st July 2016
Time: 16:30
The room was quiet, but clearly used. There was a large fireplace, clearly built for transport, gently illuminating the soft chairs and low table; a quick glance at the papers strewn across it would identify the occupant of these chairs as a sporadic writer and diligent worker, pages of plays half-finished filed along with account sheets for the Department of Mysteries. Slightly closer perusal would see these figures change, quietly ticking over into new numbers as galleons were spent; the noise was not unlike that of a ticking clock, and more than anything made the room feel homely.
Marcus suddenly span into existence in the fireplace as the flames flared green, an excited smile fitting uncomfortably on his usually stiff face. He paced out of the fireplace and immediately started gathering the papers on the table.
“Excellent!” He muttered under his breath, clearly flustered. “So much to do… must write to dear old Vector first. Yes.” The slight man pulled a thick, dark wand from beneath his robes as he finished organising the papers, and pointed it with intent at a stack of writing paper on top of which a bright yellow quill lay; the papers arranged themselves in the air as the quill hovered at the top of the first page, ready to write. The man smoothed his beard, cleared his throat, and spoke as he paced, hands behind his back.
“Start letter, place return address in the usual place.” The quill skittered across the page, in the spidery handwriting of those used to numbers rather than letters. “Dearest Vector, the news today has been a genuine maelstrom of emotion. To hear my old teacher had resigned is of course a blow, but to hear you had pushed for me to take the role is a genuine delight. I have, of course, sent my letter of acceptance already, but I felt it would be best to send you my thanks as well; enclosed with this letter are…” Marcus paused for a second, at a loss as to what to use. He scanned the room before his gaze landed on a small silver-inlaid cabinet in the corner, which was securely locked, and smiled. “Scratch the ‘are’ and replace it with an ‘is’. “enclosed with this letter is a bottle of the Beauxbatons Reserve Port, which I remember you enjoyed so well the last time we were able to meet, as well as my greatest thanks. You always were my favourite teacher. Sign off with ‘Yours in Thanks, Marcus Flitwick.’ Letter ends.”
The quill and papers resumed their places on the desk, and the letter folded itself into an envelope. Marcus unlocked the cabinet and poured himself a firewhisky that was larger than strictly necessary, before slumping in the chair. “Hogwarts!” He said to himself. “Merlin’s Beard!”
Tags to be used if used in community - 'marcus, closed'
Date: 21st July 2016
Time: 16:30
The room was quiet, but clearly used. There was a large fireplace, clearly built for transport, gently illuminating the soft chairs and low table; a quick glance at the papers strewn across it would identify the occupant of these chairs as a sporadic writer and diligent worker, pages of plays half-finished filed along with account sheets for the Department of Mysteries. Slightly closer perusal would see these figures change, quietly ticking over into new numbers as galleons were spent; the noise was not unlike that of a ticking clock, and more than anything made the room feel homely.
Marcus suddenly span into existence in the fireplace as the flames flared green, an excited smile fitting uncomfortably on his usually stiff face. He paced out of the fireplace and immediately started gathering the papers on the table.
“Excellent!” He muttered under his breath, clearly flustered. “So much to do… must write to dear old Vector first. Yes.” The slight man pulled a thick, dark wand from beneath his robes as he finished organising the papers, and pointed it with intent at a stack of writing paper on top of which a bright yellow quill lay; the papers arranged themselves in the air as the quill hovered at the top of the first page, ready to write. The man smoothed his beard, cleared his throat, and spoke as he paced, hands behind his back.
“Start letter, place return address in the usual place.” The quill skittered across the page, in the spidery handwriting of those used to numbers rather than letters. “Dearest Vector, the news today has been a genuine maelstrom of emotion. To hear my old teacher had resigned is of course a blow, but to hear you had pushed for me to take the role is a genuine delight. I have, of course, sent my letter of acceptance already, but I felt it would be best to send you my thanks as well; enclosed with this letter are…” Marcus paused for a second, at a loss as to what to use. He scanned the room before his gaze landed on a small silver-inlaid cabinet in the corner, which was securely locked, and smiled. “Scratch the ‘are’ and replace it with an ‘is’. “enclosed with this letter is a bottle of the Beauxbatons Reserve Port, which I remember you enjoyed so well the last time we were able to meet, as well as my greatest thanks. You always were my favourite teacher. Sign off with ‘Yours in Thanks, Marcus Flitwick.’ Letter ends.”
The quill and papers resumed their places on the desk, and the letter folded itself into an envelope. Marcus unlocked the cabinet and poured himself a firewhisky that was larger than strictly necessary, before slumping in the chair. “Hogwarts!” He said to himself. “Merlin’s Beard!”
Tags to be used if used in community - 'marcus, closed'