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Orla Quirke (quirkybeater) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Orla's hands instantly went up when she was shoved, palms out in a placating way. Under normal circumstances, that would have been her reaction to being shoved by a random person. Off the pitch, she was not a fighter unless pushed beyond her limits. But given the words that came out of the woman's mouth, she was even less likely to react negatively. Whatever the reason for the shove at accidentally running into her, this woman was clearly in distress. "I won't hurt you," she said, voice calm as if talking to a frightened animal. And that's what this woman reminded her of, and her instincts told her not to make any sudden movements while her eyes quickly darted around, both to see if there were nearby reinforcements as well as to make sure no one else was too near and posed an unintentional threat.

"I won't touch she," she said, voice still calm, making it as soothing as she could. She inhaled slowly, held her breath for a second, then exhaled, keeping herself calm. There'd be no sense in both of them panicking or freaking out, even if a tiny part of her was a bit nervous. What had caused this woman to react so badly? Was it something in the gallery, or had this woman escaped some kind of custody? Maybe St. Mungo's had lost a patient. Maybe...

Orla took a few seconds to look at the woman, and part of her stiffened.

She knew her. It may have been years since the last time she saw her, but she knew her. They'd briefly been in the same room in St. Mungo's after... after she'd been saved from Azkaban. From what she could recall, they'd gotten along well enough, until Orla had found out she'd been a Death Eater. She may not have been directly responsible for her false imprisonment at fourteen, but, at the time, she hadn't made any distinctions from one Death Eater to the next. She had the Mark. She was one of his followers. And that was all she needed to know at the time.

Now, though... Pandora was having some kind of breakdown from what Orla could tell. And while a part of her recoiled at the thought of being so close to this woman, another part of her told that part to sod off. She closed her eyes, took another deep breathe, let it out, and opened them, calming herself and her features.

"Pandora? Can you hear me?" she asked, keeping her voice steady. "If you can, just know that you're safe. No one's going to hurt you." Ugh, what had the healers done for her when she'd been having a hard time? Orla wracked her brain trying to remember something, anything, that might help. "I promise, you're safe," she repeated, idly wondering just how fast she could reach for her wand if she absolutely had to. She didn't want to, but if it came down to it, she would stun the other witch and take her to St. Mungo's for her own safety. Lord, she really didn't want it to come to that.