Samuel Phillips
Part-Veela | Artist | Scrivenshafts Owner
- Messages
- 3,812
- OOC First Name
- Anna
- Blood Status
- Mixed Blood
- Relationship Status
- Interested in Somebody
- Sexual Orientation
- Bisexual
- Wand
- Straight 11 1/2" Flexible Cypress Wand with Veela Hair Core
- Age
- 42
It was with glazed eyes, numb lips and a stumble to his step that Samuel arrived to Charlotte's doorstep that night. He had just come from the speed dating event she convinced him to go to, which in past tense and with five too many fire whiskeys in his body was still a terrible, terrible idea. The night consisted of Sam gritting his teeth and repeatedly ordering glasses of fire whiskey while desperate people attempted to make conversation with him and he attempted to keep up his side out of sheer politeness, though leaving his interactions to said politeness and never wanting it to be anything more than an introduction and a few questions to follow. None of the people he had met seemed interesting by his loosest definition of the word and while Samuel actively blamed it on his pretentious pickiness and ridiculously high expectations when it came to dating, he knew that wasn't the only reason he refused to open up that night. But of course over analyzing why he refused to show interest in anyone he met at the leaky cauldron was the last thing on his mind as he opened Charlotte's front door ajar and poked his head through the space he created.
"Char?" He queried into her brightly light although empty living room. Their friendship had long surpassed the formalities of knocking or even sending a warning before showing up but in Samuel's drunken state he of coursed questioned it all and worried about showing up to her house verging on the hour of midnight. Granted, he had shown up at worse times, later at night or earlier in the morning depending on which way he wanted to look at it, but at this hour in particular Charlotte could have been asleep despite all the lights in her home being turned on. Or she might have been busy with work or anything else that involved lights being on and wouldn't favor a distraction in the form of his drunken self. He figured questioning he empty air of her home was enough to warrant walking inside however. So he promptly did so, walking towards the nearest sofa and spreading himself over it as he undid the suddenly tight feeling bow tie around the collar of his shirt. In the process he also kicked off his shoes, seemingly making himself at home and probably acting a little too comfortable considering the fact he had yet to actually see his blonde friend. His drunkenness was of course to blame for his behavior as well as his general sloppy demeanor that became apparent as he continued lying on Charlotte's sofa, whistling a quiet although familiar tune to himself as he stared up at the ceiling that somehow began spinning.
Suggested listening
<i></i>"Char?" He queried into her brightly light although empty living room. Their friendship had long surpassed the formalities of knocking or even sending a warning before showing up but in Samuel's drunken state he of coursed questioned it all and worried about showing up to her house verging on the hour of midnight. Granted, he had shown up at worse times, later at night or earlier in the morning depending on which way he wanted to look at it, but at this hour in particular Charlotte could have been asleep despite all the lights in her home being turned on. Or she might have been busy with work or anything else that involved lights being on and wouldn't favor a distraction in the form of his drunken self. He figured questioning he empty air of her home was enough to warrant walking inside however. So he promptly did so, walking towards the nearest sofa and spreading himself over it as he undid the suddenly tight feeling bow tie around the collar of his shirt. In the process he also kicked off his shoes, seemingly making himself at home and probably acting a little too comfortable considering the fact he had yet to actually see his blonde friend. His drunkenness was of course to blame for his behavior as well as his general sloppy demeanor that became apparent as he continued lying on Charlotte's sofa, whistling a quiet although familiar tune to himself as he stared up at the ceiling that somehow began spinning.
Suggested listening