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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marridgeback
2009-08-12 09:53 pm UTC (link)

Yeah, when a ginger like Marissa looked pale you knew that things were pretty bleak. She'd always liked how well she fit in Sturgis' large arms (any man's large arms, really, it made her feel safe -- even though she'd never admit it) and now it was more comforting than she could say.

She nodded weakly and curled her mostly-uninjured arm around his neck, pressing her face into his shoulder and trying to concentrate on what he was saying. Oh, Merlin's rotten fucking right testicle ... St. Mungo's had been hit too?

As long as they were taking patients she supposed that it would be all right, but it was still a shock to hear. How far had all of this gotten? Next he'd be telling her that Scotland had plummetted into the water or something ridiculous like that.

"Mungo's, right." That was ... probably a really good idea, she thought fuzzily as her eyes began to slip shut. She was so ... tired.

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