Pansy Wisteria Parkinson (pugmylife) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2017-03-11 14:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | *aurora, *hannahgrace, christopher chant, pansy parkinson |
WHO: Pansy Parkinson and Christopher Chant
WHERE: The vault
WHEN: During the notebook plot
WHAT: Pansy and Christopher finds out the vault works a little too well.
RATING: PG
STATUS: log; completed
It had only been six days since she’d been conscripted into this vault assignment, but to Pansy, it felt much, much longer. It was probably due to the long hours spent in the company of the same people for almost an entire week - most of whom she didn’t even like. It wasn’t even any condolence knowing that most of the team didn’t like each other either - as evidenced by that kerfuffle the other day between a few of the team. Tensions had eased a bit once things had calmed down, but Pansy was still looking forward to completing the project and getting on with her life. The one good thing that’d come out of the fight was that it had focused everyone, and now the vault was almost complete. Pansy, who’d had plenty of experience creating wards against dark magic - a skill most useful when one’s father dealt with the trade of dark objects - was working on putting the finishing touches inside the vault. It was a long, delicate process, made more complicated since she was working with someone else, someone whose magic she didn’t understand at all. She saw how his contributions strengthened hers, however, so it wasn’t quite as aggravating as it could’ve been. “Have you any idea how to reinforce the magical structure around this…’control panel’ without affecting the circus in it?” she asked. Circus, circuits, same difference. ~ Christopher was keenly observing what Pansy was doing, linking together bits of her magic wherever he could see, with his witch sight, that they weren’t quite joining up. It had been really useful, over the past six days, to be able to see all the different kinds of magic that people were using. It had been fascinating to see the different way people cast spells and used a combination of gestures, incantations and magical implements to bend their own variety of magic to their wills. Christopher had taken on the unofficial role of ‘Jigsaw Master’ trying to make all the different spells, with their complicated patterns, shapes, loops and holes, fit together in some kind of water-tight, magic-tight way. He had to admit, he had been rather enjoying himself, although there had been a moment, when the others had begun fighting and squabbling among themselves, when he wondered whether he should just walk away and let them get on with it themselves. Now, though, he had the distinct feeling that they were getting very close to succeeding their goal. They just had to put the last few painstaking finishing touches to the Vault and then, perhaps most importantly, find some way of testing it. “No idea, I’m afraid,” Christopher replied to Pansy, his brow furrowed as he leaned in closer to examine the control panel. They had been avoiding the area thus far, not wishing to disrupt any of the complex, electrical thingymajigs which helped make the mechanics of the Vault function. Technology, Christopher had discovered quickly during the last week, was all Dutch to him. The technology in this world was so far advanced to that in his own that he thought he must understand how out of touch a dinosaur would feel if it were suddenly transplanted into the heart of cosmopolitan London. “Perhaps if we formed some kind of seal around panel itself, then wove the rest of the spells over the top…?” Christopher mused out loud, although he trailed off as he remembered the explosion that had happened earlier in the week. Whatever they did, they would have to proceed with caution. “The panel was Mr Stark’s design, was it not? Perhaps he could advise before we proceed.” ~ Pansy made a small sound of distaste. She wasn't particularly fond of Tony Stark and his bombastic ego; if there were to be any bombastic ego in the room, she'd prefer it to be hers. But she also knew how to keep her mouth shut for the sake of expediency, so she'd kept her thoughts to herself. “Yes, let's go find His Great Starkness and let him spend several hours telling us how brilliant he was for coming up with this contraption,” she drawled. All right, so she mostly kept her thoughts to herself. Before either of them could make a move towards finding His Great Starkness, however, a great high-pitched sound erupted in the vault. Pansy whirled around, trying to find the source of it. “What was that?” *** Christopher had to swallow the smile that tried to creep across his face at Pansy’s remark. It was true, Tony Stark was certainly an interesting person to try to work with, not least because he seemed to think everybody else’s ideas were inherently inferior to his own for the most part. Still, Christopher couldn’t help but think that the consequences could be worse if they didn’t consult with the rest of the team. Christopher started at the horrible, high-pitched sound which began bouncing around the inside of the vault. All of his senses immediately jumped to high alert as he joined Pansy in looking around frantically for the source of the noise. Whatever the sound meant, he was almost certain that it wasn’t a good sign. A movement above their heads caught his attention and he looked up, only to see the heavy, metal bulkhead beginning to fall, right above where his colleague was standing. “Look out!” he called to Pansy, reaching out with both his hand and his magic to try and pull her back out of the way. He didn’t know whether or not she’d seen the imminent danger for herself but he thought he’d rather deal with her indignance at being manhandled than have her be trapped and possibly seriously injured. ~ It was a good thing that he had, because Pansy was so busy looking around that she didn’t think to look up. When she was pulled back, she stumbled, not expecting the pull. She managed to right herself, and whirled on Christopher with a mind to tell him off, when the bulkhead slammed into the ground with a decisive thunk. Her words died in her throat as she realized what this meant. “Oh Salazar.” She ran for the door - only to be bounced back by the wards she’d just completed not two minutes ago. *** Christopher sighed as he watched Pansy being repelled by their own wards. He could feel, without too much probing, that the magic they had woven together so intricately had created an absolutely watertight seal around the inside of the vault, effectively trapping them inside. “Well, it looks as though the spells are working,” he said wryly, letting himself sink to the floor and resting his back against a spongy bit of spell work against the opposite wall. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait to be rescued.” Christopher had a sneaking suspicion that Pansy wouldn’t like having to play the damsel in distress one little bit but, unfortunately, their options were rather limited. ~ Ow. Pansy pushed herself up and rubbed her backside as she scowled at the wall they’d created. This was really not the time to be foiled by her own handiwork! “Are you joking?” she asked in disbelief. “Do you not remember how this entire project has gone? Even if they notice we’re missing and not just working diligently in here, they’d spend so much time arguing over how to get us out, we’d starve before they managed to get us out.” No, Pansy really didn’t take to the role of damsel in distress well. She was more interested in being the mistress of her own destiny, which was why she started to probe the magical barrier they’d created, looking for the strand that would unravel it enough to let them out. *** Christopher smiled, amused by Pansy’s rather accurate assessment of their team’s capabilities at working together. It was true, they had taken a while to learn to work together but Christopher thought they had been getting a lot better over the last few days. If anything, the fight had helped clear the air and deflate some egos. “That may well be true but, if you think about it, we don’t have much other choice,” he pointed out, calmly. “Even if we could break through our own magic in here, which is easier said than done, there are spells all around the outside, designed precisely to keep people like us in.” That was one of the problems with the fact that they had helped design the vault - Christopher knew just how impossible it should be to break out. “Still,” he said, with a huff. “If you insist on trying, I will, of course, assist.” Christopher was nothing if not a gentleman, even if somewhat of a reluctant one. He looked up at Pansy from his comfortable spot on the floor, waiting for the lady’s command. ~ Which was given as a pointed tilt of the head towards the door. She waited until he was up, then went back to trying to find a weakness in their work. “That might be so,” she said, “but I’m not about to just sit down and give up without some sort of attempt. How embarrassing would it be if they got their act together enough to rescue us, and tell us it was something we could’ve done for ourselves all along?” She wouldn’t waste her time on an impossible task - which this was looking more and more likely as - but neither would she simply sit back and wait for rescue. If there was one thing she’d learned in her life, it was that you really couldn’t rely on anyone except yourself. *** Christopher sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “Very well,” he replied resignedly, silently wishing he had more willpower when it came to telling ladies what to do. It seemed incredibly unfortunate to him for them to undo all of the hard work they’d just done, for what he expected would be very little result, but he also didn’t want to argue with Pansy. He had seen her temper earlier that week and he had decided then not to get on her bad side if at all possible. So, obediently, he slowly, painstakingly, began trying to pick apart the complex web of spell knots that surrounded them. He could tell it was going to be a long, long night. |