voicetesting

[boots]

hello it is time for me to voicetest new/au characters please leave a picture prompt if you are interested???

suppressed | illuse | badboyfriends | karhold | 2spooky5me | handwaved | balabusta

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[suppressed]

Ok. [he's not entirely sure about matches. the hospital staff seem to use their wands for everything. he pauses.] Do you have an iron?

[or an ironing board. or a laundry service. or--this may be a bigger undertaking than credence thought.]

[retromancy]

I have...a charmed, self-heating iron. I believe.

If that ends up more difficult than it's worth, one can always be purchased. [ Percival waves a hand. Money is not something they'll have to worry about. ] Even a No-Maj one, if necessary.

[suppressed]

[credence frowns.]

If it doesn't work I can heat it up on the stove...[provided it has gas. he sighs.] I can take your clothes to the launderer's. [a pause. he glances at mr. graves.] Would you like to order supper now?

[retromancy]

You're starting to worry. [ Percival says this with a mild surprise, because it takes him a moment to figure out why that may be. ] That was not my intention. I'm not going to change my mind if the iron decides not to listen to you, or the stove is difficult to light.

[ At Credence's question there's a shrug, mostly with his eyebrows. ] I'm told I should eat, so I suppose we may as well. [ Wait, damn, Credence had said he was hungry. ] Yes.

[suppressed]

[credence looks up, surprised by this insight, and huffs a small laugh. it's sweet of mr. graves to be concerned for his feelings, even if he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. he hasn't seen mr. graves make a mistake before; it's surprisingly endearing.]

It's very kind of you to say so, but I wasn't worried about that. I was just thinking of how we could manage your house without magic, if it's anything like this hospital. For example, do you know where the gas for your stove comes from?

[he awkwardly moves to drag a chair across from mr. graves', and sits in it rather abruptly.]

...and...do you still want to try the spaghetti?

[it's alarming that mr. graves doesn't want to eat, after sleeping for so long, but he doesn't know what he can do about that.]

[retromancy]

I...do not, no. [ Perhaps he should have emphasized the need for someone to speak to so as not to be trapped in his own head. Perhaps he'll have to get a new wand sooner as opposed to later.

Perhaps he should know just where the necessary utilities in his home come from, but he doesn't, and that's that.

Credence pulls over a chair and Percival arches an eyebrow, considering the question. ]

Noodles and butter, plain without sauce, seasoned. I likely could manage that. What about you? You don't have to hold yourself to our earlier agreement.

[suppressed]

[credence gives him a small smile.]

It's ok, Mr. Graves. I really don't mind turnips all that much. I just don't think that they're better than tomatoes. If you say you know a turnip dish that tastes good, I believe you.

[then he frowns a little, pressing his lips into a thin line.]

Are you...still not hungry?

[retromancy]

[ It's endearing and a little strange, to be the focus of so much concern from someone to whom Percival isn't related to, or a patient of. ]

I'm not, no. But I understand I should make the attempt anyway.