◎ c h a r l i e (spinnets) wrote in valesco,
@ 2009-08-05 21:33:00

Entry tags:

chester scabior, christopher loftus, derek dobbs, diagon alley, earthquake, elphias doge, emmeline vance, gabriel corner, glenda prewett, greta catchlove, group, javier spinnet, jonas ackerly, kobe ackerly, lyssandra vance, miranda frobisher, nicholas hooke, noah boot, patrick vance, ralph frobisher, sebastian goldstein, severus snape

DIAGON ALLEY, EARTHQUAKE
"And you know what? There is not a sale worth going out in this heat, I'm serious!"

Javier grinned, putting up his hands in a defensive manner, "I'm sorry, but I don't need a pair of robes that badly, have you seen those temperatures? I'm surprised Fortescue's is still standing, would've thought they'd have melted awaaaaaay----whoa, what is---"

He gripped onto the desk, eyes widening as he rumbled and rolled away because the fucking building was shaking! Javier let out numerous words that were not politically correct to say on the wireless, and toppled out of his chair, busting his head on the floor. Strings of angry Spanish soared out of his mouth as he crawled up to his knees, and Javier grabbed the microphone.

Through the glass he saw that the other members of his staff were looking like they'd just been shot, and it took Javier a few good seconds to realize what the fuck happened, as another rumbling, rolling coursed through the studio. Javier dropped to the ground, covering his head with his hand as he shouted angrily into the microphone:

"ARE WE EXPERIENCING A FUCKING EARTHQUAKE IN DIAGON ALLEY?"

ooc: http://www.scribbld.net/users/valesco_mods/32947.html

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Gabriel

catchthislove
2009-08-06 06:06 am UTC (link)

One second.

Greta had felt her eyes slide shut for literally one second in the middle of a relatively normal news-day, and the entire earth shook.

What did I do?! she thought panickedly as a scream released itself from her mouth and she felt the building ripple. Paintings that had been on the wall rattled, doors were slamming and unslamming, and she felt as though a mountain was growing right from under her seat as her chair rose and tipped back, throwing the shocked girl backwards. Her head, then the rest of her, smacked against the tall bookshelf not far behind her desk, which tilted backwards and began its own fall, until some furniture on the other side stopped it halfway. Jarred, she slid across the shelves and onto the floor, her leg twisting oddly under her weight. Far too dizzy to attempt understanding what was going on, nor what was happening to the other people in the office, the adrenaline rocketing through her system prevented the pain from setting in. Flustered and disoriented, she tried to get up, tried to run, perhaps even tried to see if anyone needed help or if she could otherwise provide assistance for whatever had just rocked the earth, when her leg crumpled beneath her, almost turning on itself when she fell back to the floor. Her heart was starting to race as she had no idea what was going on or what had happened to her, and being so aware of her violently pumping heart was starting to make her nauseous.

"Is there—," she began, head slumped against the crooked shelf, eyes suddenly fighting to stay open, "can someone—I need—HELP!"

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coverstory
2009-08-06 07:05 am UTC (link)

For heaven's sake!

Gabriel pressed his hands against the wall for another moment, somehow managing to stay upright throughout the quake. The quake! The earthquake? Here, in Diagon Alley? Gabriel's brow furrowed, not believing for a second that an earthquake had been the actual reason, no, that did not make sense at all. They were being bombed again, that had to be. Gabriel's ears perked at the sound of the wireless that was going over the speakers in the corridors. They were saying it was an earthquake! All of--the Ministry? Oh Christ, that meant St. Mungo's was hit as well, and Rebecca!

Gabriel pushed himself off the wall, glad that his legs hadn't shaken from underneath him, and started to follow the crowd out when he heard the shout for help. He paused, wondering if he'd actually heard it, but---he had to check. Gabriel imagined someone just walking away from Rebecca, and the idea twisted his gut painfully.

"Hello!" he called into the seemingly empty space. They had cleared out so quickly, maybe they had missed someone hidden underneath the mess? Gabriel slowly made his way between the toppled desks and cabinets, hoping that the floor didn't give way beneath him. "Who's there?" Gabriel ducked his head under a fallen bookshelf, and held back a sound of panic at the sight of Greta.

Gabriel straightened. He really should not attempt to move these things in case he hurt her more. He'd read about it, what if the pieces were keeping her body together and he adjusted things the wrong way...Merlin's beard, this was absolutely surreal. Gabriel bent down again and pulled out his wand, muttering a lumos.

"Greta," he called out, waving his wand around. Gabriel dropped to his knees, "You need to tell me what hurts, all right?" She looked ready to pass out, he needed to keep her awake, "Can you do that?"

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catchthislove
2009-08-06 07:23 am UTC (link)

Oh, it was Gabriel! Oh, she'd never been so happy to see his beautiful face in all her life. Greta was so happy, in fact, she told him just that.

"I can't believe you're here! Oh, that's so nice of you. I was shouting and no one else came," she told him, pouting slightly at the unfairness that no one had come for her before Gabriel. But that, of course, would mean that the person sitting in front of her and helping her wouldn't be Gabriel, so it was a tricky situation indeed!

But he was here now, and asking her questions, the sort that didn't seem the rhetorical, so he was probably expecting an answer. Answers which Gabriel seemed to think she had, and so she should answer them. Tilting her head—or trying to, at any rate, and finding it quite uncomfortable—she paused and tried to think. "I thi—I think my leg hurts, but I’m not sure." Greta looked down, as if hoping that would affirm her statement, but when she saw the horrible angle it was twisted at, making it appear as thought she had no real leg, her face and stomach blanched. "Well, there's that, and then…" she heaved a great sigh and her shoulders sagged a little, the sleepy feeling back and threatening to consume her, even in the presence of such a fit man, "my head. My head is very, very… dizzy."

Yes, that was the word. Dizzy. It tickled her tongue and her brain to say that word, with the two 'z's and the 'y.' A little shiver ran up her spin.

Greta sighed again, this time wistfully, and gave him a very reproachful look. "Gabriel, I'm tired. I closed my eyes for just a second and then everything was upside down, and I just want to go to sleep again."

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coverstory
2009-08-07 01:39 am UTC (link)

Did she just call him beautiful? Gabriel blinked at Greta from his crouched position, but listened to her rambling. Oh, that was definitely delirious rambling, he was sure. Gabriel's lips pressed into a line and he listened to her carefully. Her head, her arm---it didn't seem like she was stuck, just that she couldn't physically move. All right, then.

"I'm going to move the bookcase, okay Greta?" he said. He waited a moment, and then levitated the bookcase up slowly, propping it back into place. With a few sticking spells, he secured the bookcase, and then hurried to Greta's side. Gabriel couldn't help at grin at her scolding. "You can't go to sleep, Greta."

He pushed some hair out of her face and let out a breath. She was very disoriented and injured, there was no way he'd be able to fix her injuries on the little healing spells he did know. But he couldn't tell her that, so Gabriel started trying to heal the gash on her head, keeping his voice calm. It was something he'd managed to perfect in his short time learning how to keep Michael calm when Gabriel himself actually had no idea how to do something.

"You can't go to sleep because you've got to talk to me," Gabriel said in a lighter tone, his eyes shooting to try and catch Greta's unfocused gaze, "Tell me, how long have you thought I was beautiful?"

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catchthislove
2009-08-07 07:35 am UTC (link)

Someone needed to tell Gabriel that he was being tremendously demanding of her, because she really felt that curling up into a nice little ball underneath this large bookcase and taking a nap would just be such a nice ending to the day. Greta would have done it herself, but was absolutely too fatigued to bother. Besides, he'd touched her face! That was awfully nice. He was awfully nice, and keeping her company when she must look like a hideous mess, too! She felt a prickle of alarm as this thought was realized in her hazy mind.

But he wanted to talk to her! Oh, that was so nice. Oh, he was so nice! Except she had a sneaking suspicion she had thought this exact thought already, and was vaguely wondering why, but the pressing need to gush an answer was much more prevalent.

"Let's see…," she began dozily, giving him a bashful yet dreamy smile. "I think it was when they were showing the other interns and I the—the—what do you call it?" Oh, how frustrating to not remember a word. Greta always hated when that happened, particularly when she was in the middle of a story. "Oh, the break room! And you were sitting at your desk and looking very pensive and staring out a window that was on the other side of the room. And you were very beautiful then, I thought."

A small, easily quieted part of her brain thought that was probably not something one should bring up for everyday polite conversation, but since she couldn't see or feel her left leg very well, perhaps there wasn't cause for being everyday or polite.

"Do you think I'm beautiful!"

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coverstory
2009-08-08 04:11 pm UTC (link)

Gabriel smiled easily and nodded, "You're very beautiful, Greta."

It wasn't a lie, he just would never have said it to her out loud. Greta was one of his friends (and apparently she thought very highly of him), an intern that he had grown rather attached to and didn't want to see fail or--well, get hurt. Gabriel wasn't sure how he was managing to keep himself so calm when Greta was clearly in a bad state. The idea that he'd been trying to protect her since she took on the internship (protect her from nasty old reporters and her lack of a desk) popped into his mind, and Gabriel settled with that. She was his intern, he couldn't leave her alone.

Gabriel pulled back from her head wound and looked over the rest of Greta's body and her injuries. No, she was in bad shape, but she should definitely be able to move her. He'd carry her out, because with the distance of their offices from St. Mungo's, it would be some time before anyone entered. Gabriel winced as he realized he was going to have to move Greta's obviously broken leg, but he kept his voice calm and soothing.

"I have to move you now," he said, continuing to brush her hair on the side of her face, "It's going to hurt, Greta, and I'm sorry for that, but we need to get you out of here, all right?"

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catchthislove
2009-08-09 03:29 am UTC (link)

Being told that someone who was thus far appearing to be a great friend and ally in one's time of need was about to do something heinous and pain-causing was not the most reassuring thing in the world. In fact, it was very much the opposite—one might even go so far as to call it a betrayal of trust of the most dastardly kind.

"That's not a very nice thing to say. Do we have to? I'm having a nice time just sitting here, actually."

But somehow, despite the fact that Gabriel was sitting there, telling her he was about to do something grotesquely painful to her, all Greta was really thinking about was if he was going to keep touching her hair, because that was surprisingly very soothing in her delirious state.

Until, of course, she realized in the vague alertness of her subconscious, Eurgh, what if I'm bloody?

Such was a testament to her knight in shining armor's stomach of steel, she supposed. Merlin only knew if their situations were reversed, she'd be running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

She thought she'd save Gabriel some of the trouble of moving her own awkwardly long limbs by doing it herself, which worked fine for the first three seconds, or so. Until Greta tried putting weight on her bad leg, which she had not yet figured was broken, despite the odd angle it had rested on.

Shrieking, and undoubtedly turning very white, she bit her tongue so hard it almost split. Greta's eyes squeezed, and in a rare moment of lucidity, her voice came out very small, "I don't think I can do this."

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