the inscrutable drystan b. fawcett (brythonichero) wrote in valesco,
@ 2012-02-28 21:31:00

Entry tags:

adrian mattias, anton chang, arista sykes, billie trimble, carys llewellyn, delilah spinnet, derek dobbs, drake parkin, drystan fawcett, galvin gudgeon, geoffrey brand, glenda prewett, griffith kirkham, group, hamilton nott, holly troy, iwan quigley, joey jenkins, magnolia mattias, marissa macfusty, michal conway lynch, miles lufkin, mirabelle jasper, odette boot, rose knightley, rupert brookstanton, savannah davies, seth wadcock, veronica zeller, victoria cadwallader, zoey moran

End of Season party! For the 3rd

Drystan did not usually consider himself a sore loser. He had experienced enough defeats in his career to understand that winning was sometimes as much luck as it was skill—the latter of which he had plenty, the former he was starting to doubt he had any. He would even go so far as to say this was one of the top seasons he'd ever played. Losing the Cup might not be such a hardship, in that light. But to lose to the team he considered the most unsportsmanlike in the League was just an insult to injury. To have lost to them for the third time in the season was, in his perfectly reasonable and justified opinion, grounds for murder.

But a lifetime sentence in Azkaban would leave behind a wife and three children who would likely be just fine without him, but he'd miss them. So mass murder was off the table for tonight, at the very least.

Press snapped pictures outside the admittedly-abandoned looking building of 23 High Street, and Drystan knew there were more inside. Entering the rundown lobby, by-passing the elevator with the out-of-order sign, they made their way up the long flight of stairs to the grand doors of the first floor landing and into the—holy Mer—

Of course, the invitation specified formal wear, but Drystan hadn't honestly been expecting a high-brow formal occasion from the Kestrels. It was a ballroom. There was emerald green positively everywhere. There was something that looked suspiciously like a string ensemble. A bar, where he fancied he would spend as much time as possible, was in the corner. Platters with hors d'oeuvres and glass flutes zoomed by. Having stopped moving, wearing a stupefied expression, Bess had to tug his arm to get him to continue his stride.

"Hell," he muttered, pulling a grim face at the ostentatious yet somehow tasteful décor. Lifting their linked hands, he kissed the back of hers while surveying the spectacle before him.

"Five minutes? Five minutes isn't too soon."

ooc: Quidditch players/personnel + their guests! BLACK TIE! Party is on the first floor in this cool but creepy rundown building. Have fun! :D

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incharge
2012-03-01 02:29 am UTC (link)

Gritting his teeth at the unwanted intruder, he stabbed once more at the buttons, wondering why every time there had to be confusing symbols and colors and nothing straightforward like "Please press this button to go to ______." Adding insult to injury, the doors slid shut faster than they had when he was waiting for them to open and wanting them to close so his space would not be infringed upon. Giving it a punch that hurt his knuckles more than the inanimate paneling, he scowled at it, then at the girl who had rushed in beside him. Narrowing his eyes as he studied her, Axe thought he recognized her. A Catapults somebody… a flower…

Like Daisy.

Wrinkling his nose, he resumed his slumped position against the back wall rather dramatically, eying the dial that indicated the floor creeping past the 1 (ding), shuddering as it approached the 2 (ding). This was taking forever. Not that he had a timepiece, but he scoffed at the idea that it had been a maximum of two minutes since the flower girl had stepped into the lift. More like two hours.

Planting his feet widely apart, he crossed his arms and hunched. Leaned forward and pressed the button a few more times, as the dial seemed to be just grudgingly touching the 3 (diiing). Axe took a deep breath and closed his eyes, thinking if he stopped staring down the arrow, it would move faster, when he heard the chime of what must finally be the fourth floor. Relieved, his eyes flew open and he started toward the door when all of a sudden the dim light in the elevator flickered out and THUDTHUDTHUD, the lift dropped a few feet and shuddered, before stilling itself and its occupants in total darkness.

"PUTAIN!"

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flower
2012-03-01 04:09 am UTC (link)

The squeaky shriek that escaped her had not, in fact been from the lift stopping, but it was instead her fellow occupant's surprisingly loud yell that made her shake. Rose quickly covered her mouth with both of her hands to control herself. And, of course, while doing so she dropped her purse, adding yet another thud, which no doubt did not help the situation. Holy--- fucking--- Merlin was this really happening? Her eyes practically stung at the total blackness that filled them, and-- this wasn't supposed to happen! This, this was not part of the have a fun night and help her friends feel better night or-- or---

Wait! But her wand---! She bent down quickly to blindly grapple for the lump that would be--- Merlin this dress was not made for being in that kind of position--- finally! Jerkily reaching into her purse, Rose wrapped her fingers around her wand, her other hand holding onto her purse tightly.

"Lumos," she whispered, blinking abruptly at the sudden introduction of light again. Rose bit the insides of her lip again, unsure of what to do next. Axbanger had looked incredibly aggravated before this lift thing happened, she could only imagine his bubbling rage now. Maybe choosing to not speak would be a good thing. Not that it was a particular choice of hers at the moment, her voice felt entirely caught in her throat. So, instead, she suddenly stuck her arm out to him, keeping her lit wand relatively centered between them.

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incharge
2012-03-01 04:45 am UTC (link)

NON, this was NOT HAPPENING. Stumbling back, Axe felt the wall hit his shoulder blades and sank unsteadily down to a crouch. Gritting his teeth, he braced the wall with his hands in fists and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to acclimate to the total darkness. Dark was fine, dark was better. Dark would let him think, and if he was thinking, he could find a way out of this engine diabolique.

He was catching his breath when light flooded the small box, a shadowy suggestion of how close the walls were, the soft flicker from the lit wand tip giving a sinister sense of movement, like the walls were playing with him, creeping forward and backward in no discernible pattern. Choking on the breath he was trying to take, his heartbeat ratcheted up by the tens and a vague sense of nausea overtook him.

"Éteignez—éteignez—la," he rasped, dragging one hand across his forehead where sweat had already begun to bead, the other pounding on the floor, distracting him from the fear enough so that he could find words and making doubly sure he was getting her attention. "The light! Get—rid of it!" If he had the presence of mind to fish for his own wand and extinguish hers, he would, but he feared his hand was shaking too badly to even reach inside his own pocket. Axe felt the collar of his robes squeeze is throat and wondered in a vague sense of horror if cursing his robes so much when putting them on if he'd accidentally cursed them with sentience and this was the moment they had chosen to exact revenge.

He was going to die.

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flower
2012-03-04 09:39 pm UTC (link)

She didn't speak french! She didn't--- what-- why? What was going on? How were they--- Rose quickly pulled her hand to her chest, cupping the top of her wand with her hand. What was happening? With the smaller and light closer to her face, she could barely make out what Axe was doing. Instead she just heard the stifled, and downright strange noises that were coming from the other side of the lift. What--- was--- what was she supposed to do?! She-- he--- her voice felt thoroughly caught in her throat, and the fact that she had become stuck suspended in the air in a small metal box hadn't even settled yet. What--- her companion was most definitely freaking her out more than anything else.

Rose felt her knees begin to shake and her face heat as an impending anxiety attack began to bubble. What-- why was he so--- oh great Merlin she was going to die here. She began to take deep, long breaths in a vain attempt to control herself, and it worked only enough so that instead of diving into a full-blown panic attack, she stood stoically in muted terror.

Maybe--- should--- she--- talk to him? That was going to be very difficult, seeing as she had little within her to do so when he wasn't acting like a shifting werewolf (.... when was the last full moon?). So-- that--- yes. Was her mouth even functioning? This all was impossible! What was she even doing wasting her last precious moments thinking of accomplishing impossible things?

Eventually, she did extinguish her wand, creating the darkening effect like she had closed her eyes to calm herself. Apparently that had helped, because a couple of minutes later her mouth ran on its own.

"Areyoualright?" she squeaked, clutching her wand within her hands tightly.

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incharge
2012-03-05 11:43 pm UTC (link)

Would that he were a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or anything remotely more interesting than painfully intense claustrophobia.

Demanding she deluminate her wand might have seemed counterintuitive; he knew that people in these situations often killed for even a flicker of light to see their surroundings. But every time his brothers shoved him into some tight, dark space, they threw in a nasty little nub of a candle, spelled to never extinguish. The first few times, Axe thought everything, the candle, the trick, to be a misguided sense of fraternal bonding. A test, to make sure he was worthy of being their brother. If he experienced trauma, it was Axe's fault. It was not long before he realized he could not be more mistaken. It was no act of kindness, and they knew exactly what they did. The light was an agonizing cruelty, reinforcing with shadowy sadism the small space he was in. In the dark, he could forget how close together the walls were. If he could forget the walls, he could forget how trapped he was. He wouldn't know how trapped he was.

He was amazed that even amidst this gut-wrenching fear, he was still able to feel the prickles of annoyance from his companion. How were they supposed to concentrate on his breakdown if she was too busy having one of her own? Scowling, Axe found the tight constriction on his lungs eased with every swell of his irritation and redoubled his efforts, grunting a response that was neither affirmation nor denial to her frankly insipid question. Did a grown man who was all right normally fall to the floor in the foetal position after shouting to turn off the lights?

Raising his head with his eyes still closed, unsteady fingers pressing the bridge of his nose, he strove for patience. Until he remembered that he was trapped in a four foot by four foot space with an insipid question asker whom he actually found it very soothing to be irritated by, and then felt perfectly justified in his behavior.

"Votre bâton—" He hissed in impatience and tried again, "your wand. Can you—" here he gestured violently in an up-and-down fashion before realizing she couldn't see him and then slammed the wall behind him with his fist, trying to remember what the words were, "make it move?"

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flower
2012-03-06 02:18 am UTC (link)

Still not in complete control of herself, Rose gave a jumpy twitch to his bangs. How was she--- he was being very demanding! How was she--- anyone for that matter--- supposed to accomplish things when he was being utterly terrifying! If at least one thing came out of this, she knew she would never want to play for Kestrel after this.

And she had wanted to do that, but he had been the one to insist on being in the dark! How was she supposed to--- how had this suddenly become her task! He-- she--- this was ridiculous! In a wave of exhaustion, Rose's knees buckled together and she leaned heavily against the wall. Alright. Alright! She could-- do... this? At the very least, she trusted her wand.

Maybe she should sit down before she passed out, just in case.

As she slid, Rose felt the fabric of her dress bunch and catch on the wall, but she really couldn't--- do anything about it. It was the last thing on her mind. Being on the floor did feel better, maybe Axebanger was onto something with that. Taking a couple of deep breaths into her knees helped enough to collect herself to perform something.

Rose pointed to what she assumed to be the ceiling, producing the first spell that came to mind. She had even been hopeful! Until she watched it bounce back, then combust mid-air. Rose ducked her head as a reflexive response, but it was not necessary. That wasn't a good sign, was it? After a couple of other charms, Rose gave up in silent defeat, with them all reacting the same way. What else could she do? This lift was obviously warded against all spells, which made sense if you thought about it. A person could just get on, and then decide to plummet the entire thing if it wasn't, which was very unsafe. But unfortunate for their situation.

Well. Not particularly feeling like getting barked at for trying her best, she let out another sigh. Perhaps saying nothing at all had been a good first plan.

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incharge
2012-03-07 04:43 am UTC (link)

With one hand on the wall for balance, Axe listened to her failed attempts while he tried to calm his heartbeat. He already knew the rough size and layout of the lift, and hoped intellectually that he knew the walls would not close in on him anymore than they already had. But being jolted into the smothering space with the flare of light sent him careening into a visceral memory of every horrific closet, cupboard, room, wardrobe he'd ever been in, robbing him of any higher processes beyond reflex. When he knew he would be steady enough, Axe breathed deeply and opened his eyes. Though his heartbeat cantered like the hoofbeats of a mad horse, he was able to look around.

Whether stemming from natural ability, biological defense, or sheer will, his night vision left little to be desired. Through the haze of panic and fear, Axe had already discerned that Apparating would result in some nasty splinching, if it worked at all. Leaning his head against the wall, he studied the fain suggestion of an illuminated square on the ceiling, and the thin light of line running down the center of the front wall, presumably the divide of the two doors.

If they pried them open, there would only be wall, wouldn't three? Not helpful. Axe felt his heart squeeze at the thought of being trapped in a box trapped in a longer box of the lift shaft, and hastened his train of thought. But as his gaze drifted back to the ceiling, he wondered if that was an exit. An emergency one—Muggle lifts had them, didn't they? If they could just push the hatch or door or screen or whatever it was out, they could scramble out, and there would be air and a way out, and—his breathing quickened from the fierce and glorious hope of a chance at escape, and also of the sudden realization that they might suffocate in here.

"You—" he pointed at the suspected Catapult again, heedless of whether or not she could see it, "must get—up there." Axe gestured insistently at the ceiling. "The—la trappe—comment dit-on… the hatch."

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flower
2012-03-08 03:22 am UTC (link)

She most certainly was not going climb up the hatch! Who did he think she was? A little-- monkey that just--- did--- orders and tricks! No, thank you very much. Rose did not hide her obvious scowl, feeling brave cloaked within this shroud of darkness Axe had insisted on creating.

What!--- He--- no. No! She began to feel increasingly moody, particularly unwilling to do anything more than wait for help to arrive. She had tried, magic wasn't going to work, he obviously was as useless as a bag of dirt, so? Anyone would notice a jammed lift between the ground and first floor! This was a party for Merlin's sake, it would only be a matter of time before--- a jolt of energy shot through her spine as a realization dawned on her. They weren't between the ground and first floor, they were-- they had gone up much higher than that! There had been too many dings, how had she not noticed that before it was too late!

"We're on the wrong floor!" Rose blurted, her voice displaying a hint of agitation. "All the way at the top--- it's useless." Perhaps a bit of bitterness was present as well. How could someone be so dumb! They were--- up to high, no one would even realize--- Rose let out a groan, pulling her knees close to her chest for a place for her head to rest. They were never going to get out of here.

"Everyone is on the first floor," she muttered with a huff, pressing her forehead harder into her knees.

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