InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I could make a killing . . ."

Jude (ophidianrequiem) wrote in unexpectedrpg,
@ 2008-06-24 22:13:00

Entry tags:

demelza robins, theodore nott

Who: Demelza Robins and Theodore Nott
What: An accidental encounter... whoops.
Where: St. Mungo's
When: Monday, June 10th
Rating: E!
Status: In progress

Work had always been hazardous; it was expected by anyone entering the profession that they were going to be hurt and probably on a fairly regular basis depending on what sort of projects were assigned. The Department of Mysteries was not a place to be toying around thoughtlessly under any circumstances. It only took one mistake to earn a trip to St. Mungo’s or worse. It was one tiny slip, in fact, that had landed Theodore in the reception area of the hospital with a very sour look on his face. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get him to go seek help but once the full consequences of his actions set in there was no way he could avoid it.

Theodore had been almost uncharacteristically short with the frantically busy witch that approached him and attempted to show him any sign of attitude. However, the treatment of her, not even in retrospect, produced any feeling of guilt. Even if his better traits called for some sympathy for her, the young man was hopelessly distracted by the nearly insufferable feeling in his left forearm. Having sufficiently been badgered by the witch and likewise flustering her Theodore slouched down irritably in a rather precarious looking chair that by some miracle still managed to support human weight. After only a moment of sitting he unbuttoned the cuff of the left sleeve of the white dress shirt and pushed it up to the elbow, flipping his wrist over. Whatever idiotic thing he’d done had made a curiously vibrant violet spider web effect under his skin which produced a poor imitation of veins.

The trouble wasn’t so much in the color or the design of the malady but in the slicing, stinging sensation that accompanied it and it’s unpredictability in attack; it didn’t radiate from one central point. Exasperated Theodore set his head back against the wall, determined to ignore, or at least attempt to ignore the spreading of the purple network up his arm and down into his hand. The bright blue eyes fixated narrowly on the wall across from him as he bit down on his lower lip. It would be very convenient to blame the accident on whole marriage affair as he’d been considering it instead of watching what he’d been doing.

Tensing rather suddenly, Theodore’s breath stopped, he choked down any utterance that threatened to rise up. Attention dropped down to, what he assumed could only be a toxin, residing quite happily in his arm. Mindlessly, he wondered if this would be easier to live with than being married to a complete stranger – to anyone, in fact. At least, it seemed to keep him sufficiently distracted from jumping out of his seat every time the belligerent invader decided to shoot out a reminder of its presence.

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demels
2008-06-29 12:00 pm UTC (link)

If someone were to ask her how she felt about now, there was a ninety-nine percent chance she would aim her wand at them and out her frustrations; her frustration with the Ministry, with the arranged marriage and the man she was to wed. As for a verbal answer, she would answer that she would rather be thrown in a bottomless pit than stick around here. It wasn’t that terrible, he had yet to leap at her or gauge her eyes out as Ginny had said, but the mere disapproval he emitted made her want to stomp her feet and act like a toddler that just lost its favorite teddy bear. Demelza had never allowed someone to get under her skin like that, but there was something about Theodore Nott that made her want to tear out her blonde hair.

Blight smite, he was the one that was being overly rude. She thought her own behavior was still relatively nice for her being. Still, she wouldn’t let him ruin her day entirely; she could still make the best of it after he left. Quite the observer, she noticed him becoming stiff and felt a slight twinge of sympathy rush through her, wondering whether he felt what the woman had described but at the same time not wanting to ask. Nosy as she was, she didn’t think he’d appreciate it. As soon as she noticed there was some more improvement and the lines began to dissolve, his wrist was released and she pocketed her wand where it previous sat, back in her standard Healer robes.

“As long as it’ll need,” thank you, Healer Robins, for that vague, rather blunt answer. She tried again, somewhat nicer this time. “It’ll take an hour minimum,” and then he could leave the hospital; hell, he could leave now if he wished, but that wasn’t advised. “It would be better if you stayed here during the duration of it, but you’re able,” really really able, “to go home if you wished.”

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ophidianrequiem
2008-06-29 01:59 pm UTC (link)

There were several opinions formed on Demelza over the course of their brief interaction. The one most prominent was what seemed to be a trait that she apparently couldn’t repress. Beneath her attempts to be off-putting because of his attitude towards her and their awkward relationship, she was hopelessly a nice person. Theodore supposed that such a trait was useful when dealing with the temperamental patients that walked into the establishment but it hardly endeared her to him as it should have. It could have been because he was bitterer about this whole ordeal than he was admitting or pleasantness could have just been an irritating quality to display when they had no options. There just didn’t seem to be any way to get around it: he didn’t agree with her as a person whether it was just circumstance or he was sinking into a state of expected snobbery.

Reclaiming his wrist, his sleeve was pushed down with only the faintest indication that he wasn’t completely cured and it still caused discomfort. Theodore’s eyes narrowed at her initial response but not for the reasons one might assume. The reply wasn’t terribly troublesome and almost expected when a person was prone to bouts of cryptic answers and sarcasm. Truthfully, he was spending a great deal of effort on analyzing her and that was the reason for his reaction.

Theo gave a curt nod at the more precise answer, taking a moment to look down and button the shirt’s cuff. That spell certainly hadn’t been enjoyable, he actually felt a bit off from it; on the verge of ill. “Side effects?” The question seemed to spring up suddenly but he needed the information in order to make a decision. She had said he could go home, not to work and work was where he preferred to be to keep himself from rifling through the liquor supply and dwelling on the inevitable. The option of staying with her and the noise… that just didn’t seem like a favorable choice either so all logic pointed to going. …but where?

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demels
2008-06-30 07:39 am UTC (link)

From what she had seen and heard, it could be said that Theodore Nott was not the primitive, uncouth man she had thought him to be, or at least not as much; still, he was far from the man that she had envisioned herself marrying some day. He would be kind, loving and have the manners to thank her for her help. Honestly, he could have at least acknowledged the fact she had helped him out. Even though another Healer could have done the same exact thing, and according to protocol they should not expect anything in return from the patient, it would still be somewhat decent of him if he’d utter his gratitude. Yeah, she’d have better luck trying to get the Ministry to annul this whole marriage ordeal, it seemed.

Still, the white dress she had imagined herself to be wearing would be used for the wrong occasion. Yes, it was a wedding, but not to the man of her dreams. Her little girl’s dream of a perfect, white, fall wedding would be replaced with every little girl’s nightmare; an arranged marriage to someone you barely even knew, or before this day, didn’t even know at all. No, the Minister of Magic was not going to be liked in a very, very long while and Demelza would not go near the building unless this whole mess was fixed.

Just about to tell him that there were no side effects that she knew of, she remembered that—while it might not necessary be a side effect from the spell or the disease—someone with similar symptoms had been released and he’d come back fifteen minutes later saying he hadn’t made it out of St. Mungo’s before he’d thrown up on the robes of his wife, who had not exactly been pleased with the gesture. It made her smile, the memory of his wife throwing a tantrum; it had been her ten seconds of amusement before a Healer had ushered her out (she had still been an intern, how she missed those days). “There’s a chance you’ll be nauseous for a while,” the smile ebbed from her features, “It would be better if you stayed a little longer.”

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ophidianrequiem
2008-07-01 11:57 pm UTC (link)

Theodore glanced down at his covered wrist as though some answer to the dilemma would be written there before getting to his feet. He wasn’t entirely sure that it was the best idea he’d had and was more certain that the cause was pure stubbornness than common sense but he’d decided to go. There was a moment when he looked at Demelza as though reappraising her value now that he was certain she wasn’t completely incompetent. If his opinion of her had changed it wasn’t shown and his expression remained coolly unimpressed. Then again, one rarely enjoyed staring into the eyes of an uncertain future. After he’d come to no obvious conclusion: “I’d take my chances.”

“Unless you’re inclined to sort this arrangement out before the inevitable I doubt we’ll see each other again.” For most of the revelation he had been looking intently towards the door, his exit hindered by the Ministry’s meddling, though he did glance to her towards the end. “It makes no difference either way, really,” he added passively, almost ridiculously apathetic towards the situation. It hadn’t really crossed his mind that they may have something to discuss about their futures until he’d come into direct contact with her and suddenly she was more than a name of a slip of parchment. However, if she opted to avoid discussion or having anything to do with him, Theo would hardly be offended and perhaps even prefer such a choice considering it kept her at a distance.

Without waiting for a response he shifted around her towards the door, pausing to glance back. “You can think about it if you like and owl,” he shrugged, “or not.” Without waiting for the possibility of her throwing something at him or even giving her a moment to answer he disappeared out of the room. To move and change situations removed the possibility of deep thought and consideration. Theo didn’t want to dwell on her, marriage, or the Ministry’s oddities. Ill or not he would prefer to return to work and remain there until they forced him out.

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