RP: Roomies
Date: 1 May 1999
Characters: Greg Goyle, Michael Corner
Location: Their house
Status: Semi-private (Terry's welcome; or if anyone feels like visiting that's cool)
Summary: Greg and Michael catch up, hopefully over something better than a sandwich.
Completion: Incomplete
Whomever had said that a watched pot never boiled had been right. Greg turned from the stove and picked up a box of noodles, examining it and wishing he knew a cooking charm. It said the water needed to be boiling before he could put the spaghetti in it, but he'd stuck a finger into the water, and it had definitely felt hot enough to him. Maybe he could save a bit of time and just stick the noodles in now.
He was starving; it had been a long day, the first time he'd got to tag along on a field assignment, investigating a herd of wild abraxan mares that was getting a bit too close to a Muggle town. They hadn't even seen the herd yet, so they'd go back tomorrow, but they'd been close enough on their trail for Greg to somehow get liberal amounts of dung on his boots. The worst part was that he'd not got a chance to shower until he'd got home.
Probably not the best day to try and cook something, but he was tired of sandwiches, at least for now. Greg jolted as he realised the water had started to boil, and turned around quickly as he fumbled the box open and dumped its contents into the pot, splashing a little water up onto his hands. He hissed and wiped his hands on his shirt as Michael walked in.
"Uh. Hey," he said, glancing at the stove and shrugging. "Just thought I'd try and do something hot for dinner."
Characters: Greg Goyle, Michael Corner
Location: Their house
Status: Semi-private (Terry's welcome; or if anyone feels like visiting that's cool)
Summary: Greg and Michael catch up, hopefully over something better than a sandwich.
Completion: Incomplete
Whomever had said that a watched pot never boiled had been right. Greg turned from the stove and picked up a box of noodles, examining it and wishing he knew a cooking charm. It said the water needed to be boiling before he could put the spaghetti in it, but he'd stuck a finger into the water, and it had definitely felt hot enough to him. Maybe he could save a bit of time and just stick the noodles in now.
He was starving; it had been a long day, the first time he'd got to tag along on a field assignment, investigating a herd of wild abraxan mares that was getting a bit too close to a Muggle town. They hadn't even seen the herd yet, so they'd go back tomorrow, but they'd been close enough on their trail for Greg to somehow get liberal amounts of dung on his boots. The worst part was that he'd not got a chance to shower until he'd got home.
Probably not the best day to try and cook something, but he was tired of sandwiches, at least for now. Greg jolted as he realised the water had started to boil, and turned around quickly as he fumbled the box open and dumped its contents into the pot, splashing a little water up onto his hands. He hissed and wiped his hands on his shirt as Michael walked in.
"Uh. Hey," he said, glancing at the stove and shrugging. "Just thought I'd try and do something hot for dinner."