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Post by Kate Dashwood on Jan 26, 2012 12:49:27 GMT -5
JULY 2002 Kate walked up the stairs in the Dashwood house, taking her sweet time. She'd dropped by a half an house ago to see Mark, who had yet to return home from wherever he was. She'd been greeted by his mother, who ushered her in out of the hot sun and into the kitchen, placing a cup of iced tea in front of Kate and a plate with a large slice of pie on it. They had chatted for a little while before Mrs. Dashwood had to run out to meet a friend and told Kate to make herself at home. The eighteen-year-old was at the house enough that it was easier to be comfortable. After she had finished the slice of pie and iced tea, she washed her dishes and than made her way upstairs. Gliding down the upstairs hallway, Kate ran her fingers along the cool, painted wall. She wondered when Mark would get home; she didn't mind waiting for him, but at the same time, if he wasn't going to be home until dinnertime, she thought it might be a waste of a day. It wasn't as if Mark was even her boyfriend; they were just friends. It didn't matter that she fancied him and had since she was twelve. But she'd recently graduated from Hogwarts (three days ago) and had yet to see Mark since arriving home. He was busy becoming a Healer and making a name for himself; she wasn't going to hold him back. After all, she had ambitions, too. With a sigh, Kate opened the door to Mark's room and walked inside, leaving the door open so when Mark did finally get home, he'd know someone was in his room. Kate automatically went over to his bed and crawled on it, opening the window on the opposite wall. A breeze blew in through the screen and Kate could hear birds chirping. She stared out the window for a minute before turning and grabbing a medical journal from the stand next to the bed. She opened it and fell down on her back, raising the journal above her head to try and make sense of what it said. In the back of her mind, she was willing Mark to get home. Soon.OOC: I hope this is okay? If you were imagining something different, please tell me so I can fix it. And like I said in the PM - reply to it whenever you get a moment. |
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Post by Mark Dashwood on Jan 30, 2012 13:56:38 GMT -5
Twenty - two year old Mark Dashwood was in a world of hurt and devastation. He wasn't sure how much more he could possible take! It was all too much. . . okay, maybe it wasn't, and maybe he was being just a bit dramatic, but his brain did hurt. He'd been packing so much medical information inside it's tiny crevices that he wasn't quite sure that there was any room left for anything else. Constant calculations, deductions, and medical enigmas plagued his dreams, his nightmares, and his every day life. He was always grateful for a distraction. Being an intern wasn't as fun as some had thought it could be; the pay was nonexistent, and the hours dreadful. He was happy to get home at times and find his mum had prepared supper; he usually ate and went to bed.
And here he was, approaching home now. He was going to eat, sleep and then get back up and prepare himself for another endless day of magical medicine. He'd reached the front door, opened it and tossed his jacket on the hook, a house elf meeting him with a smile. He waved Dinky off, and dragged himself toward his room, his eyelids dropping with each step he took.
He passed his room mindlessly and headed toward the bathroom, a thought dawning on him. He hadn't left his bedroom door open. Backtracking, he raised a brow as he saw who was in his room, a book raised over her head.
"Katie?" he asked, his brow high and a smile on his face.
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ooc: sorry it's lame.I'm rushing! Gotta get ready to head out.
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Post by Kate Dashwood on Feb 8, 2012 12:35:56 GMT -5
Much to her surprise, Kate had found an extremely interesting article on eyes, of all things. And what made it even better was that she understood some of it. Okay, so she only understood the bit about the iris, but the few pictures that explained what cones and rods were helped her out a little. Being brought up in a traditional pureblood family, Kate didn't have much knowledge of the muggle world. Anything that she did know, she'd learned from friends or muggleborn students that she'd spoken to over the years. She wasn't taught about the human body or how it worked (unless one counted puberty and sex and childbirth.)
Kate was reading the part of the article that explained what genes provided what eye color and why, when she heard a voice. Not just any voice, though: Mark's voice. Dropping the journal to the bed, Kate rolled her head to the side and a slow grin adorned her face. She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of Mark's bed. "Hey, stranger! It's about time you showed up," she greeted teasingly, pushing herself up from the bed and making her way across the room. "Your mum let me in, by the way, and shoved pie down my throat before she had to leave."
She stopped in front of Mark, unable to stop smiling. They hadn't seen each other in months and Kate hadn't written him too much. One, she knew that he was busy with his internship and probably didn't have a lot of free time. Two, her boyfriend at the time (she'd broken up with him the day they graduated) always got insanely jealous and angry whenever she'd write Mark. He didn't believe that their relationship was platonic. Kate's smile faded a little. "You look exhausted," she stated. If he looked it, she could only imagine how much he was feeling it. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew that their time tonight would be limited. "Do you want me to get you anything? Coffee, tea, something to eat?" She paused and smirked. "Firewhisky?"
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