The school, the school, the school is on fire...

[liquidsky]

Who: Anyone who wants in on it!
What: The school is on fire.
When: Days 420 around sundown and after.
Where: The school in Odin's district.
Rating: We'll see!

The sun is slowly going down and Barty Crouch jr is in Odin's district, as he's been every day for a good while though, since he first realized how easily Will Graham fell into habits. The difference is that today he isn't headed to the cafe they always meet at right away. Instead he stands leaning against a wall, ever now and then glancing at the school and waiting for a sign. He has placed the mirror - a present from Albus Dumbledore himself - in just the right position fixed it to the corner of a building and waited for the sun to hit the reflective surface at the right angle.

Dumbledore had talked of smoke and mirrors and now Barty had found the right tinder. He waits until he can see smoke, faintly but there. It would be another hour, he suspects, maybe even more before the fire spreads far enough to be noticed. But it would burn, of that he had no doubt.

It is starting to get dark when he takes the mirror back, making sure to remain unseen, and he heads down the road to meet Will. He doesn't know if anyone is still in the building he just set on fire, he doesn't much care either way. The flames would rise high and Severus Snape would feel the heat.

[OOC Notes: I purposefully set this up like an event log, so just like for them, feel free to make a header comment detailing what your character is doing at any given time. If you want to do any more last minute plotting, head on over to the plotting post! Also, here is the IC post with some of what led up to this if you want to read up and/or still tag in! I backtag forever. Slowly.

If your character has been near/around/in the school before the fire started and would thus be a suspect and/or suspect other people he or she has seen, you can play that part out here too!

Times: Before the fire, during the fire, right after the fire. ...duh.
Places: The parts of the schools that will be affected are: The library, the auditorium and several classrooms as well as Evy's office.
Obviously you can also have your character be outside the school or in the hallways or any unaffected part if they want to use the chaos to, I don't know, mess up Snape's office a little.

I just ask that no one saw Barty do what he did, so we can have more fun with various suspicions cast about.]

Comments

[albuquerque]

The slap comes as such a surprise to him that he immediately releases her arm regardless how much she's wrestling herself free, and takes a staggered step backwards with a look of complete shock on his face. His cheek is stinging where her palm had just cracked against it.

He sees her mouth why but he's too stunned for a moment to even reply. "You have Fire Magic," he finally says. "I distinctly recall you telling me that you were uncertain how to handle your magic--"

[proudofwhatiam]

Evy shakes her head firmly, and as tempting as it is to mouth some rather worse things in Snape's direction, she doesn't. She'd be tempted towards more invective than mere four-letter words anyway, and how well would ungrateful brute, utter faithless clod and the like really come across?

There's no helping it. She'll have to explain, and she'll have to do it without any preamble. One can hardly pantomime an entire sentence, let alone paragraphs of euphemism. It's horrible to say, and she looks away immediately--away from Snape and the burnt-out school both--but she does it. I DIED.

[albuquerque]

With the shock of the strike across the face still resonating through him, her mouthed words do nothing to help the situation. He swallows, the lingering taste of smoke thick and dry at the back of his throat, and as he throws another glance down at her singed clothes he suddenly thinks about the fact that her office--

And then her words sink in properly. She'd died. Burned to death, perhaps. Or suffocated from the smoke. It doesn't matter how it happened. Doesn't matter whether Miss Carnahan started the fire or not. The fact is, it happened, in his school - the school he is supposed to be protecting.

If only he hadn't gone home early.

"Are you… Are you alright?" he asks in a small voice.

[proudofwhatiam]

All right?

Oh, Snape, she is about as far from all right as it gets, and that--that--is why you're getting an incredulous look right now.

The fact that's he's no longer snapping at her is all that really matters, though. Evy shrugs in answer. She's not, and if pressed, she can admit she knows it; her heart's still racing, even though she's standing still, and really, how can anyone be all right at a moment like this?

But what does it matter? She gestures vaguely, brushing the thought away.

[albuquerque]

Severus knows that was a stupid question; a stupid question prompted by a pang of guilt, by the shock of being slapped across the face.

He throws a glance up to his school and... Merlin, he can't bear to look at the damage. The past however long it's been since he discovered his school ablaze all feels like a surreal nightmare. And one of his teachers died. He had truly failed in his duty to protect his school.

When he sets his eyes back on Miss Carnahan, there's a quiet wretchedness to his exhausted expression. He reaches out for her again, this time tentatively so; he certainly owes Miss Carnahan the duty of ascertaining that is in fact alright. "At least let me take a look at you."

[proudofwhatiam]

Evy cringes away a little when he touches her, but she doesn't shake him off. She gestures up and down to herself; here she is, but really, there's not much to see at the moment.

She's been steadfastly avoiding looking too much at the remains of the school. That first long gaze was more than enough. The thought of her office, of all her books, of her students' work destroyed--more than anything, the essays she lost in there pains her.

And, oh, the mummification projects! Her expression crumples and, absurd though it must be, she nearly feels like crying. Nearly. Evy isn't someone who cries easily, but oh--they couldn't have survived that, she'll have to tell Davesprite and the others that all their work was for nothing at all.

[albuquerque]

Half expecting to be slapped again, he takes hold of her arm with careful measure this time; and the moment its in his grip, he leads her over to a street bench nearby.

"Sit," he instructs, and he tries hard to ignore the way her face has crumpled. Treats it like it's not even happening. He scurries off quickly, comes back a few minutes later with water in a plastic cup that people have been handing out to those either fighting the fire or who have been caught in it.

Pressing the cup into her hand, he orders, "Drink this."

[proudofwhatiam]

Evy allows him to take the lead and sits where she's told. It's absurd, and later she'll be able to acknowledge that, but the loss of all that work is tearing at her more than the thought of her own death. She'd found the materials, killed the animals, created the hieroglyphics assignments, taught the courses, helped fashion canopic jars and snip out organs. All for nothing--and that doesn't even begin to consider the effort her students have put in.

At the moment, she's convinced that the burning of the library at Alexandria couldn't have hurt more.

She takes the cup she's handed and, again, does what she's told. Swallowing isn't pleasant at the moment, but she is thirsty. Looking back up at Snape, she nods in a sort of silent thank-you.

[albuquerque]

The moment she takes a sip, Severus takes a brisk seat next to her.

"You're certain you didn't accidentally...?"

Start the fire. He doesn't particularly care to be slapped again, however, and so is hesitant to finish the sentence.

[proudofwhatiam]

Evy knows she should be glad to have company, even if she doesn't feel particularly strongly on the subject just then--but she doesn't want the company of an interrogator. The look she shoots him is pure poison. Don't ask me a third time.

[albuquerque]

He steels himself against that look she's giving him. Pressing his lips into a stubborn line, an equally stubborn look of urgency on his face, he adds, "Did you see anything? Anything suspicious?"

Of course, perhaps it would be best if he had this conversation with her once she's got back use of her voice, but--

He's too frantic to let that conversation wait.

[proudofwhatiam]

She shakes her head, wondering if there's a universal signal for I was busy marking essays. Nothing comes to mind, so she settles for taking another pained sip of water and then looking over at him, eyebrows raised slightly. Did he?

[albuquerque]

The severe but pained look he gives her says it all: he didn't see anything, either, and has no idea how this nightmare could have happened. Perhaps, once the furor is over and he's had some time to clear his mind, he'll be able to think more clearly about it, but right now - all that's rattling through his mind is numb shock.

"I left early," he says. "I smelled the smoke from my house."

For a moment he sits there in vacant despair while staring at his school. Maybe he would have seen something had he not gone home early.

[proudofwhatiam]

Her thoughts feel scattered and half-considered; the one thing that comes to the surface easily is I wish Jonathan were here. He wouldn't know what to do--he'd probably have a bottle in hand--but he'd be here. Severus Snape is a tolerable companion at the best of times, but at the worst, he isn't the greatest comfort a girl could ask for.

And even if he were, he still wouldn't be her brother.

A long moment later, she recalls that Snape's spoken, and that she probably ought to make some reply. But there aren't many simple words she can think of to say to him just now. She reaches over and pats his knee, a little hesitant, but--well, there's not much she can say, is there?

[albuquerque]

The touch to his knee snaps him out of it: he quickly looks down at her hand, then at her, and he sits straighter as he forcibly reins himself back under control.

He'd said he wanted to take a look at her. That's what he should do. Keep busy.

He takes hold of her hand and upturns it to palpate her pulse on her wrist. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

[proudofwhatiam]

Perhaps that wasn't the right thing to do, touching him. The last time she happened to do so, he hadn't taken it especially well, either...but if he isn't going to try to bite her head off for it, then that's all she cares about.

She lets him take her pulse--how nonsensical, taking the pulse of a dead woman--and shrugs at the question. After a moment, she points to her throat. Nothing else seems particularly damaged, so far as she can tell.

[albuquerque]

Satisfied that her pulse seems steady enough, he quickly checks her fingers for any sign of discolouration, checks her nailbeds to ascertain that they're not blue from lack of oxygen (and yes, he knows she died in the fire, but - checking her over is better than nothing), and then he quickly checks her eyes for irritation.

With that, he's off the seat again; he snatches up the plastic cup from her hand, hurries back over to people handing out water, gets a refill. When he returns, he resumes his seat beside her, cup pressed into her hand - and just as he opens his mouth to order her to keep drinking, he's suddenly overcome with a violent coughing fit that sounds like it's coming deep from within his chest.

[proudofwhatiam]

Evy lets him fuss over her without complaint. Aside from the few moments he's poking at her eyes (not literally, thank goodness), it's easy enough to ignore. She stares off into the middle distance, trying to think of little in particular.

The world comes back into focus when she hears him coughing. With a horrified expression, she thrusts the cup back at him, her hand at his back in case...well, she's not sure what. Perhaps to brace herself against him. He can't possibly think she's going to sit here and sip her water when he's in danger of losing a lung to that wracking cough.

[albuquerque]

It takes him a good minute or so to recover himself; his head is spinning by the time he does, and his lungs hurt. He can taste smoke and ash in the back of his throat.

Shrugging away Miss Carnahan's hand on his back, he also nudges her cup back to her. "Drink," he rasps. "I'm fine."

Setting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands, he makes himself take a few deep breaths. "Whoever did this to my school..." he mutters with bitter anger.

[proudofwhatiam]

Oh, you have got to be joking, Professor. Evy's more than sympathetic to your worries, but she's not going to sit there and watch you gasp for breath and then claim you're fine without question.

(It's easier, anyway, to think about a momentary difficulty someone else is having. It means she doesn't have to think about everything wrong with her.)

She shakes her head and reaches out for his hand, intending to draw it away from his face and put it around the cup of water. Everything she might say to him beyond for goodness sake, Severus, drink this is too complex for pantomime.