Isaac Kettering (just_presuming) wrote in regulation, @ 2008-04-11 03:26:00 |
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Current mood: | rushed |
Current music: | "Bother" - Stone Sour |
Entry tags: | cb:mathwall, elodie desmarais, isaac kettering |
[INSIDE heading OUTSIDE] ...but once i hold on - i won't let go till it bleeds...
Who: Isaac Kettering, Rives Desmarais, Maisie Baxter, Tyler Conrad, & Élodie Desmarais
What: Escape from Mathwell once the wall goes down while avoiding Obliviators, a reunion, and probably some other stuff.
When: Friday, April 11, 2008 - night
Where: Mathwell, London - the sewers, then some other part of London
Rating: PG-13 because Isaac has almost the foulest mouth on him ever
Status: Closed, incomplete.
"C'mon," Isaac muttered, his voice barely audible to himself. He knew Rives would hear it, though. "Fucking Wizards - the wall's been down a good... a good long while..." He was struggling with the grating covering a manhole, trying to get it up. "If I know anything about them, and I do, so just don't even fucking ask, they're sweeping through even as I fucking say it. Fucking Obliviators - look, you superhuman bastard, help me out here."
Rives put the little girl he'd been carrying around down for a moment and lifted the grate off like it was nothing. Isaac hated him in that moment in a purely personal level, more annoyed at being a little grateful than anything else. "Right, in we go. They'll not sweep through here until a bit later, if we're lucky. Right poncey, the lot of them. We can get out, you can head on back to your damn family. I'll find these kids a place to stay, and we'll all get over everything like it never even fucking happened."
Isaac went down first and Rives handed him the girl, then the boy, and followed. He even pulled the damn grate down again. If he hadn't been trying to figure out how to manage that himself, he might've been even more annoyed. Luckily, he just picked up the little boy and they started walking. It was damp, it was full of garbage and the sorts of refuse that you really didn't want to think about, all things considered - and the stench was enough to make him wish he didn't have a nose at all - or that cutting it off would do him some good.
Jesus fuck, he thought, leading the way through the tunnels - it was a twisted route, one he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to follow if it weren't for certain marks spaced out every once in a while, just enough to keep him from getting completely lost. Not letting them steal our memories, the arsehats.