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metem_logs2011-10-28 09:45 am
metemmods.insanejournal.com) wrote in metem_logs2011-10-28 09:45 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Characters: Nigel and the MacBeth Witches
Date/Time: Friday, October 28
Location: Ben Nevis, Scotland
Rating: None
Warnings: Possible creepiness
Summary: The powers send their man for some magical assistance
Oh, he hated this time of year. The universe didn't allign itself entirely save but this one time. He wasn't certain why that was, it just is and the powers that be never felt inclined to say the whys of it. Nigel knew better than to ask. He wasn't certain he would like the answer anyway, but the fact was he was busier during Halloween, Samhain, whatever you wanted to call it than at any other time of the various definitions of time throughout the illuminated existences.
This time they sent him to that loathesome and bothersome planet, Earth. Scotland to be precise. A certain mountain top if you want to get truly accurate. He was here to discuss a need with three certain ladies of dubious moral standing. He wasn't looking forward to the encounter. Besides. Scotland smelled like wet sheep.
[*lyrics: Switchblade Symphony - Witches]
Date/Time: Friday, October 28
Location: Ben Nevis, Scotland
Rating: None
Warnings: Possible creepiness
Summary: The powers send their man for some magical assistance
Oh, he hated this time of year. The universe didn't allign itself entirely save but this one time. He wasn't certain why that was, it just is and the powers that be never felt inclined to say the whys of it. Nigel knew better than to ask. He wasn't certain he would like the answer anyway, but the fact was he was busier during Halloween, Samhain, whatever you wanted to call it than at any other time of the various definitions of time throughout the illuminated existences.
This time they sent him to that loathesome and bothersome planet, Earth. Scotland to be precise. A certain mountain top if you want to get truly accurate. He was here to discuss a need with three certain ladies of dubious moral standing. He wasn't looking forward to the encounter. Besides. Scotland smelled like wet sheep.
[*lyrics: Switchblade Symphony - Witches]