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gr8muppetyodin[Follows THIS and THIS]
There were four people in Riley's office right but, but he could actually swear blindly that there were eight. He was sitting at his desk trying his best to look like he could actually focus on them without going cross-eyed, but it wasn't the easiest of tasks he had ever faced. He blinked slowly a couple of times, his hands resting splayed on the desk. Man, was his head pounding. He was aware they were probably waiting for him to say something, and he would get to that. He would. In a moment when the room stopped spinning a little. After getting his head slammed into a concrete wall by an extremely pissed off Scotsman, who could really expect his brain to be functioning 100%? It was probably a miracle it was still attached to the interior of his skull. Beside his desk, Graham was standing in his camos, arms crossed as he just glared at Buffy. It was like he was waiting for her to say something negative against Riley to give him an excuse to bitch her out. "Graham, dude. Unless your ass is made of razor blades and you're gonna slice up my interior design, please sit. I need you all on one eye level so I don't have to move my head," Riley finally spoke, gingerly touching the back of his head where he had been subjected to no less than seven sutures. It seemed that along with Kindred emotions, Rory was harbouring a percentage of their physical strength, also. It probably had literally been only moments to spare before he would have been turned. Lucky didn't even begin to cut it.
( Blaise was sitting in one of the chairs on the opposite side of Riley's desk facing him. On either side of him sat Juliette and Buffy, all three of them managing to watch Riley with the same curious, yet dumbfounded, look on their faces... )
Word Count | 4,063
There were four people in Riley's office right but, but he could actually swear blindly that there were eight. He was sitting at his desk trying his best to look like he could actually focus on them without going cross-eyed, but it wasn't the easiest of tasks he had ever faced. He blinked slowly a couple of times, his hands resting splayed on the desk. Man, was his head pounding. He was aware they were probably waiting for him to say something, and he would get to that. He would. In a moment when the room stopped spinning a little. After getting his head slammed into a concrete wall by an extremely pissed off Scotsman, who could really expect his brain to be functioning 100%? It was probably a miracle it was still attached to the interior of his skull. Beside his desk, Graham was standing in his camos, arms crossed as he just glared at Buffy. It was like he was waiting for her to say something negative against Riley to give him an excuse to bitch her out. "Graham, dude. Unless your ass is made of razor blades and you're gonna slice up my interior design, please sit. I need you all on one eye level so I don't have to move my head," Riley finally spoke, gingerly touching the back of his head where he had been subjected to no less than seven sutures. It seemed that along with Kindred emotions, Rory was harbouring a percentage of their physical strength, also. It probably had literally been only moments to spare before he would have been turned. Lucky didn't even begin to cut it.
( Blaise was sitting in one of the chairs on the opposite side of Riley's desk facing him. On either side of him sat Juliette and Buffy, all three of them managing to watch Riley with the same curious, yet dumbfounded, look on their faces... )Word Count | 4,063
