Misha Meru (carpe_misha) wrote in carpediem_rp, @ 2015-08-23 23:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: bella sorrento, character: misha meru, thread: complete |
Who: Misha and Bella
Where: Tent City at the cup
When: Sunday 23 August, post attack
Warning: TBD
Status: Closed/In Progress
The game had been a hard won victory for the States, and one which had tested Misha's nerves down to the last seconds. As much as he actually wanted the home team to win, it was more of a concern that Michael's team would win that caused him grief. If there was one thing they were competitive about, it was Quidditch, and he knew that if France won, he wouldn't hear the end of it for a good long time. As it was, when Misha's team came out on top, he tried his best to bite his tongue and not gloat. Well, not too much.
As much as he loved all of his family, Misha grew restless as the celebrations amped up outside their family tent. Folks were getting loud and rowdy, and it sounded like far more fun than the equivalent of babysitting. He excused himself, met by an understanding look from his father, and headed out into the crowd. He had found a group of slightly older friends, and was just sitting down with a cider in his hand and a girl in his lap, when the first screams echoed across the camp ground. The cool liquid of his drink soaked into the grass where Misha dropped it, as he sprinted into the oncoming path of people.
"Move quickly, out toward the perimeter!" he called out loudly, motioning toward the edges of the camp ground. He knew enough from his father's work and his own limited training that most people would just run wildly in the face of danger, and risk hurting themselves. At first he had some success in directing the flow of people, but once the first explosions started it was chaos. Ignoring his own advice, Misha moved against the crowd, heading toward the Meru tent. His mind was somewhat settled, knowing his father was there, but he could still be needed.
"Help!" Misha heard someone cry out, from off to his left, and his footsteps faltered. His father could help the family, but he could help someone who may have no other option. He turned and ran toward the cries.