dirk e. cresswell (gogoblins) wrote in valesco,
@ 2009-08-05 20:57:00

Entry tags:

berkeley doge, bess fawcett, brier stebbins, corner conway, desmond riddock, dirk cresswell, earthquake, frank longbottom, group, jude wickham, marissa macfusty, ministry, phoebe smethwyck, sturgis podmore, tomas booth, venice vega, walden macnair, william jugson

MINISTRY OF MAGIC, EARTHQUAKE
Dirk loved his job, he did, but he loved Fridays even more. He still got to go in and work with the goblins (when they let him!), but he got to look forward to a nice quiet weekend of doing whatever he pleased. Lately it had been trying to get Derek to hang out with him, even though that usually just involved watching telly. It was something! Dirk was worried about his big cousin, especially now with the war getting so intense and--

He blinked curiously, as the shelves of his cubicle began to shake. Dirk's eyes twitched back and forth as he watched the pictures he had hanging drop to the floor, and the bust of Gorgak the Terrible started to inch forward and forward. And his desk was shaking, and now his chair, and Dirk was startled to his feet at the sound of someone screaming, "EARTHQUAKE!"

An earthquake! Oh hell, Dirk had just been thinking that some erumpents had escaped again! Earthquake! What was the first rule of an earthquake? These were NOT the things they taught you in Hogwarts! How was he supposed to survive an earthquake if he didn't have the proper training?! DEREK WOULD KNOW WHAT TO DO, THAT IS WHY DIRK WANTED TO REMAIN CLOSE TO HIM AND----

The bust of Gorgak the Terrible teetered off the shelf and smacked Dirk straight in the forehead, making him drop to the ground, and thankfully roll under his desk.

He really did love his job, he did.

ooc: http://www.scribbld.net/users/valesco_mods/32698.html

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Venice Vega (narrative)

veevee
2009-08-06 04:42 am UTC (link)

She was going to fucking kill whoever it was they'd hired to decorate Amery Wilkes' office. For some forsaken reason, the entire place was more or less lined with sharp things - this was the first thing that rang through her mind as she gripped onto the edge of her desk and gritted her teeth, annoyed.

Why the fuck hadn't Amery been in to work today? It made her think that -- no, there was no way that the Dark Lord could do something like make a fucking natural disaster, right? -- that maybe he knew about this. He could have fucking told her, he would have told her, right?

Her thoughts were cut short (har har) when another shock sent the rack of antique spears barreling toward her. Venice attempted to throw herself to the side and only succeeded in having her legs pinned against the wall while the rack rocked back and then forth with greater force than before.

She felt blood in her throat and choked hard, gasping for air until the pool of red liquid beneath her feet became too large and her body gave out, lifeless and unmoving.

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