Romilda Vane (onthefrequency) wrote in regulation, @ 2008-06-25 10:27:00 |
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Current mood: | busy |
Current music: | Drink Before The War, Sinead O'Connor |
you dig your own grave
Who: Romilda Vane and Pen Borage
Where: A burning building in London
When: Tuesday 17th June
What: Romilda tends to fall into incidents of breaking wild magic. Pen comes to get her before they're both roasted alive.
Rating: It might be G rated. I am so ashamed.
Status: Closed, complete
"Sometimes," Pen said as she landed in the middle of the building, her eyes instantly searing a blazing red from the flames that engulfed the figure ahead. "I really wish I'd stuck with the whole childminding thing I started when I was twelve. It would have been a bit easier." Her hand gripped her wand as she shot a spray of water, accidentally hitting the woman rather than the fire, her vision so blurred by the smoke that it was making it difficult to aim. Which meant, she realized as she shot another burst off, that she wouldn't be able to Apparate either.
"That you, Romilda?" she called as she blinked again. The tears were streaming down her face as she choked the words out, covering her face with a sleeve. The shielding spells weren't working. This had to be wild magic indeed.
"If not," Romilda returned, somewhat grimly as she discarded Aguamenti in favour of summoning as large a body of water as possible, "you've just entered someone you don't know in a wet t-shirt contest. I'd not like to be in your shoes."
The fire had started - well, because of nothing, really. But it was always that way with wild magic, as she had found out over the course of years in this job. An Inanimatus Conjurus had gone rather wrong, when what had been summoned had turned out to be the fire that had engulfed this site during the Great London Fire of 1666.
Or at least Romilda assumed that was where the fire'd come from. It was certainly within the city that had burned - she just hoped that the magic hadn't decided to recreate all of that time, given that probably they'd have bodies everywhere, and all of them hundreds of years dead.
Right now what they had was a chunk of the Thames falling out of the sky, which was bad enough, but oh well - she'd already been soaked, thanks to Pen. Not that she had wanted to be barbecued.
"Bloody hell-" Pen yelped as a figure came running towards her, skirts broad enough to almost knock her off her feet. She felt that woman against her as she elbowed and reflexively, the Ambulator grabbed her arm, trying to contain her with a grip. "There are people here and not from our time." What in the hell did this mean?
She ducked as a flailing arm swung towards her stomach, blinking furiously against the smoke. Merlin, but she hoped containing the woman was the right thing to do. A string of words was hurled at her - a string that she thought was English but couldn't quite be certain of - and Euphemia looked over at Romilda in distress. "Do I let her go?"
"She's been dead for a while," Romilda said. "So I would." It looked so much like that first time she'd been sent out, so unprepared she hadn't known what she was doing, much less what to expect. "I don't think," she added, with a note of caution, "that she'll leave. Or that any of them will."
The ghosts - she knew it wasn't the right word, but there wasn't another one that fit, unless maybe it was something like echoes - were everywhere now, swarming about the building, sometimes getting in the way - if you didn't watch them, they'd walk through you, or into you, and she didn't know how that happened.
It rained briefly as the spell that had summoned the water let go, and some of the fire went down, but not enough of it, and she looked at Pen again, with a broad grin. "Fortunately, I'd no plans. Anyone else coming, or is you and I against history?"
"I think I'm the 'grab you and get the bloody hell out' squad and thus far, it doesn't quite look to be working out that way," Pen said as she released the woman, watching as her hair disappeared into the flames. She was unable to restrain a slight twitch. "But we need to clear the fire and quickly - please tell me there aren't muggles about."
Her wand lifted as she shot another stream of water into the mass of red fire. It didn't seem to be disappearing. I wonder if there's a point of origin, she thought, her eyes searching the walls.
"Not that I saw," Romilda said cheerfully, summoning more water. "But I'm kind of wondering if it's real fire, you know? It doesn't really seem to burn things that weren't there before. In which case, we can just fuck off and who'd know? For all I can tell, no one can even see this." It was, to her, the only thing that made sense for why there wasn't a Muggle response team working outside. The smoke could get in your eyes - she sung a snatch of the song - but it didn't really seem to burn.
Which - wild magic. Enough said.
"But even with traffic there should be a fire brigade here."
"Budget cuts, remember?" Pen lifted an eyebrow, then, turning her head, said, "I think you're right on the muggles not being able to see it. Will it burn them if they come through, though? They seem to be subconsciously avoiding it all."
The flames were beginning to dampen and she took another step, not away from the flames but further in. "Do you think this is object-controlled?"
"Meant a muggle one, but it's not important. If they could see it, they'd be here. As for whether it'd burn them, unless you want me to grab one and toss it in, that's a question better left unanswered unless one of them does wander into it, poor idiot."
She looked at the flames - without worrying that they were going to really burn, they were quite pretty. "I don't know about object. When I noticed it, I'd just cast something, but I don't know for sure if it was me or someone playing les buggeures risibles at me, frankly. But I say let's let it burn and go somewhere else. I don't think it can do much."
But another pause and the nasty, suspicious part of her mind spoke up and she added, more quietly, "Unless someone's using it as a cover for a real fire. Do you have a sense of it?"
Oh. Muggle. It registered in Borage's mind that Vane could actually be muggleborn, something that she simply had not considered until this moment. So few of the Regulators left seemed to fit into that category. Or perhaps, and it surprised her when she realized that this was the more likely possibility, she hadn't bothered to ask.
"No," Pen said slowly. "I don't have a sense of it, so we might as well go." She held out her arm. "Back to the office then?"
"I think so," Romilda said, with a final glance at the fire. There wasn't anything here that she could fix, but at the same time - it wasn't the first time she'd wound up in a breakout of wild magic. Something was going on, and it didn't seem worth it to spend the time trying to drown a ghost fire.