Who: Myron and Electra What: Putting the new bus through its paces Where: An abandoned and re-purposed airfield outside London When: Tuesday afternoon Rating: PG-13 for general action movie explosions and also Myron's presence. Status: COMPLETE!
There was a gentle chime from her watch, and Electra abandoned her notes and the fuselage to squint at the time. Ah, yes, Myron should be arriving shortly. After a last gentle tap of her wand to ensure the wards were still taking nicely, she scooted out from beneath the undercarriage. Making a brief attempt to brush the dirt and grease off of her trousers, she abandoned it as a lost cause and got to her feet, shaking out some of the stiffness from her limbs before striding forward.
Pushing her goggles to the top of her head, she cordially held out her black-streaked hand in greeting with some amusement. "Mr. Wagtail, pleasure to see you again," she said, unable to keep a slight grin from her face. She'd had a really, really fantastic time during her date out with Donaghan the previous evening, and had spent the morning humming to herself and hammering away at the bus's fretwork and spellwork, checking and double-checking her notes. Now she got to wreak deliberate and purposeful havoc on a symbol that had been guiltily plaguing her subconscious for some time now. She was looking forward to taking out her frustrations, and that her venting served a practical purpose was a delightful bonus, really.
Hopefully Myron would also benefit - though Electra had been informed time and again by coworkers that not everyone tended to enjoy deliberate destruction as a form of stress relief. Still, she'd felt moved to offer the opportunity when Myron expressed his own misgivings over their transportation this tour.
"I'm glad you could make it," she said, ushering Myron away from the bus and towards the shielded make-shift bunker she'd compiled from concrete pylons and spells. Several rusting junkers were settled in the field nearby - Electra had taken the liberty of purchasing some of the impounded vehicles from the Aurors - bizarre Wizarding versions spelled for flight, alongside totally mundane Muggle cars that had managed to accidentally barrel into Diagon Alley over the years. All of which should provide valuable insight as to how the spells woven into the bus would hold up to both physical and magical assault. "I'm a fair-hand at Wingardiums, but having someone else along to add extra -- ah, oomph -- will be very helpful."