Absit Omen RPG
Role-Play Boards => St. Mungo's => London => First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries => Topic started by: Jason Marren on December 13, 2011, 04:49:34 AM
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The cup of coffee on his desk had been filled up twice in the last hour. There were so many reports to file... so many checkboxes to check. He wasn’t too sure that the Head Healer wasn’t trying to punish him for his employee’s screw up.
As much as Jason felt responsible, he couldn’t hold everyone’s hand all the time. Glancing at the pads in the corner, he sighed and dipped his quill again. On top of all the new protocols rolling out and bureaucratic noses that were poking into his department, he had to try and figure out why Wolfsbane didn’t work on some direwolves.
Then again, he wasn’t the only one trying to fight the battle. And on top of it all, Jason had other creature injuries that happened outside of the full moon. He had a job, and it kept him busy. He was thankful for it.
Except the nights he couldn’t leave. Or the mornings he had to head in early. Paperwork was overwhelming and important, but it was something expected on his own time. When he was on the unit, he was hassled to help and listen and give leadership pointers or manage the floor. And that was fine--it just meant that some days, he was married to his office.
Today he was bound and determined to not make that so. He’d done enough yesterday, and had come in an hour early to knock out some of the left over fill-in-the-blank forms. Jason took a gulp of coffee and signed his name. One sheet down, only a few more to go.
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It felt peculiar to be back in Great Britain. Miranda couldn’t place her finger on whether it was a pleasant feeling or one that gave her the urge to repack her trunk and run. The routine at Durmstrang was uncompromising. The staff were different to people she was used to working or spending time with. The students were smart, hardworking and arrogant and had a fear of authority. They were forced to respect those teaching them, those that could deal a hard, unpleasant and painful blow should they for any reason be unimpressed. Miranda, regardless of how tough she found it to be an adequately harsh member of staff, greatly enjoyed her job and the challenges that came with it.
What she didn’t enjoy was the fact it had brought her back to the United Kingdom. Back to where losing people seemed to be a regular thing.
Alas, she had returned for the year, knowledgeable about her apparent death and somewhat curious. Miranda had been aware that her quick departure the September previous had perhaps peaked a curiosity and while at that moment in time the witch hadn’t worried about how it looked, she had presumed her reason for leaving had been obvious. Apparently she had been incorrect in making such a presumption.
So here she stood in St Mungo’s just outside a door that many years ago had let to her office. Now it was the office of Jason Marren. Or so it had been when Miranda had last been here. Upon stealing a quick calming breath, the Professor raised her hand and briskly rapped her knuckles upon the door twice. She then waited a couple of seconds as was her habit. These couple of seconds allowed for a small, confident smirk to twist her lips and give the impression of being calm and comfortable in this awkward situation.
The witch pushed the door open, stepped heeled foot (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=40634747) onto carpet and quickly closed the door behind her. There was no need for an audience. After almost a year, dark brown eyes fell upon pretty blue.
“I think congratulations are in order.” Miranda calmly spoke. “Apparently I’m the first being to rise from the dead without being Inferi.”
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Elbow rested on the desk as his fingers held his forehead up, eyebrows pulled together as he read over the report in front of him. Eyes scanned the words, pausing to make a note here and there for himself. Since he was still early for work, he’d left his over robes hanging by the door.
As he signed his name, he started a yawn. Not a little one that slipped out with a breath. No, this one forced his arms up, legs out, a good old body stretch. Feeling rather good about his progress, he took a sip of coffee and thought about going to get more. Shuffling the finished reports together, he set the stack aside, glad to see only a few remaining on his desk. Feet came up on the edge of his desk as he leaned back in his chair, picking up the next bit of papers to read over.
The knock on the door that came a short while later gave him time to put his feet off the desk and the papers started to settle onto the desk. “Come-” His eyes started to raise to see who was coming in so early--Jason did realize the night crew might have some lingering comments about the night before.
“I think-”
Eyes locked on her face. His body froze. That was her voice, her body, her face. He was having another nightmare, wasn’t he? No, no, this was reality. But it couldn’t be. Too many thoughts bubbled up too quickly, like a can of carbonated soda being shaken up and popped.
“What... What the bloody hell... BUT... But you’re DEAD!” Standing up (or jumping up), suddenly unsure on his own two feet, he backed away and stumbled on his chair a little. He scanned down her, trying not to admire the way the heels accentuated the dress. That was wrong, she was a dead woman. “What the HELL?!” And if she wasn’t dead, he needed explanations right now.
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The wizard’s reaction really was marvellously priceless. Within an instant he appeared positively transparent and launched his body from the chair in a fabulous over reacted state of shock. Elliot had fully expected a reaction from him. She was fully expecting a reaction from anyone who had been moronic enough to consider her dead. She’d simply moved to another country after all! Jason seemed to think she’d moved into another world. A spirit world. Already this little meeting was proving really rather amusing.
“What... What the bloody hell... BUT... But you’re DEAD!” The young healer stut-stut-stuttered, speaking simply nonsense and failing to even complete a sentence. Miranda couldn’t help but look mildly amused as she stepped further into the room, watching him take a step back into his desk chair. Bright blue eyes searched her face, her body before locking upon her dark eyes once more and Miranda lifted a hand to her face to brush a stray hair back behind her ear.
After his demanding with the vocabulary of a teenager and the manner of a man that had just seen a ghost , Miranda slowly moved even closer to his desk. For a moment she said nothing. Instead she stepped up to the front of the desk, leant forwards and rested two hands on the edge, staring direction across at Jason.
“Calm, Marren. You look like a small boy who’s just been told Father Christmas doesn’t exist.” Her normally brisk tone was softened as she looked up at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I’ve come to show you your future.” She lied, allowing the smile twisting pink lips to grow.
“A fifteen year old girl and you will fall in love if it wasn’t happened already. She will be your girlfriend. You will never become head healer. You will die missing a limb.”
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When she moved closer, he flinched back before he could calm himself down. His jaw clenched. Eyes glanced to watch her lean, back up at her face--this wasn’t fair. He needed fast explanations, but he knew Miranda (or used to think he did). He saw that look.
That twinkle in her eye meant she was going to play with his emotions. He’d seen it enough times before. He thought he’d never see it again.
Jason frowned at her. Show him his future, indeed. She was the Scrooge in this relationship. Hands rested on his hips, taking slowing, calming breaths. Part of him wanted to lean over the desk and forget she’d left. That anything had happened. But he never remembered those dreams... So instead, he stayed rooted to the spot, eyeing her, untrusting.
At her predictions of his future, his eyes rolled and he raised an eyebrow. Fifteen? “I’m not dating a teenager.” Making a face at the idea of missing a limb, he quickly shook his head. “Just... stop.” Finally, he took a step towards her, and another. Leaning over his desk, his hand reached out and fingers brushed her cheek. Jason felt older than he had before she burst into his office. Feelings he’d tried to push away were flooding his brain.
“You were reported dead. At the hand of your patient. They identified your body... it went in the Prophet... It was a big deal.” Finally, he met her eyes. Pulling his hand back, he sunk down into his office chair, feeling exhausted before the day had begun. "But you’re right here. How."
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The shock and fear transformed into exhaustion and annoyance quicker than a hormonal teenage girl changed from happy to hating the world. Miranda watched this transformation with keen curiosity, refusing to take her eyes off him. How quickly would he finally realise what had happened? How much longer could she play and torment him? The reaction she’d just received had been by far the best reaction she had ever been able to witness from him after something she said. A quick thought flashed in the back of the witch’s mind that she should die more often.
Soon it wasn’t just Miranda leaning against the desk. Her old friend was also moving closer, placing his hand on the desk and leaning forward. The witch’s eyes continued to stare at him, refusing to blink. He didn’t appear a day older than when she’d seen him last. True, the shock at seeing his dead boss had possibly mild aged him all of a sudden but he was still the young healer she’d trained, that she’d had fun winding up, that had taken her place, in her office and made it messy and disorganised.
A hand reached out, warm fingers touching her cheek softly. Silently Miranda admitted it felt nice, his soft touch against her skin. She’d had nothing like it for almost a year. Yet it still didn’t feel right and she would never tell him she may have ever so slightly missed him the tiniest bit. That was completely unnecessary.
In an instant his blue eyes flashed up to meet hers and Miranda very nearly forgot why she was there and what she’d been trying to do a moment ago. Until he stepped back and fell into his chair, resembling an old wizard exhausted by his ordeal.
“I am here, yes.” The witch slowly stated, giving a small nod before she stood up straight and looked down at him. “So you’re not the only twit to think me deceased?” A grin suddenly formed on her visage.
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What was messy and disorganized to one person was not to another. He’d found that out while married to Fiona. You might not be able to walk throughout her office, but she knew where everything was, for the most part. It was definitely nothing like that in Jason’s office. The ‘messy’ part were the pads in the corner and papers he was sorting through. And the coffee mug on the desk.
The most alluring thing about Miranda was her personality (and it was also the thing that often pushed people away). She was in her mid forties, and yet she still had a playful nature about her that reminded Jason of when he first started at St. Mungo’s. He knew of her, while getting an inservice of all the units. She didn’t remember him from then--there were a lot of trainees over the years, after all. Even Jason couldn’t remember the ones who didn’t stick with it, the ones who dropped out.
Sometimes being a Healer was demanding in unexpected ways.
Eyes followed her as she stood up. “Twit?” He hadn’t been around her colorful attitude in too long. “There was no reason to think you hadn’t died, Miranda.” Saying her name felt wrong; he worried Healers from the fourth floor might come down to march him away. Then Eddie would have two people to visit. Shifting a little, Jason ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t letting her get out of his question. “How did you... Where did you go? Who was the person they identified as you?”
This had ‘scandal’ written all over it. As if the Prophet didn’t have enough to report on the hospital about. What was one more thing to bring to light? “And why didn’t you say goodbye if you weren’t... dead?”
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So many questions, Miranda was unsure where to begin or even if she wanted to begin answering them. She hadn’t planned on answering an abundance of questions when she had decided to come here. Instead Miranda had planned to wind Jason up, find out why England seemed to think her dead and inform him that she would in fact be in the country for the next year, remaining in Scotland for the majority of this period.
Now Miranda could have spilled her very cold heart for Jason at this moment. She could have sobbed over the reasons she had just left, waded through the reasons she didn’t tell anyone and struggled through how people had considered her dead. Instead Miranda decided to glide very quickly over answers for him. She’d never been one for showing emotions and certainly wasn’t going to begin there. Miranda kept her feelings to herself, she made sure her emotions remained bottled up and therefore she wasn’t vulnerable and remained strong.
Taking a deep breath while trying to think over the questions, Miranda decided to take a seat. She stepped back from the desk and lifted two slim hands to undo the cloak from around her neck. This thick heavy material was pulled from her shoulders and she placed it on one chair before she lowered herself into the other uncomfortable looking chairs behind her. Slim legs tucked under the chair, crossing elegantly at the ankles and she surveyed Jason for a moment.
“I went to Scandinavia.” The witch stated simply as she sat upright, her shoulders back smartly. “I went to see friends and ended up staying there to work. The students and staff at Durmstrang are far more interesting than the British.”
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Jason might have hoped she was going to step out of her hardened shell. That she might let her guard down with him, at least. Some part of him, the part that ached for her, waited with bated breath. Watching as she took her cloak off, he rested an elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his chin in his palm. The rare times he’d seen her show a true emotion... well, maybe she’d turned a new leaf wherever she’d been.
“I went to Scandinavia.”
Well that didn’t sound like it would warm her heart.
Frowning, he sat up straighter at the insult. “More interesting.” Jason had dealt with her being dead for over a year. Maybe it was easier than the truth. There was a lot of disappointment with Miranda. He just had to remember that. Shifting in his chair, he decided to not push the question about goodbye. She decided to leave, right? So... he could make the easy assumption that she was as interested in anything with him as she was in her previous job.
“Durmstrang must be happy to have you.” Picking up his coffee, he finished it off. Giving her a small smile, he pushed himself up and stretched. “I’m happy you’re not dead.” Jason lifted the mug to indicate what he needed. “Do you... want some coffee?” Why did she come to see him? For the reaction factor? He wondered how Foley was going to deal with the press that would follow this.
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“I’m rather happy I’m not dead as well, Marren.” Miranda leaned forwards, letting her folded arms rest on the desk and she looked up at her former colleague and friend with a small, no doubt tormenting smile. Miranda knew full well that the wizard didn’t deserve her harshness but she’d spent the last year being harsh to people that didn’t necessarily deserve it, it had become a normality and she had always enjoyed gaining a reaction from Jason.
“Did you blub?” Dark eyes flashed menacingly before the witch reclaimed her feet and slowly walked around the desk to stand in front of Jason. She stared up into his blue eyes, a little closer than they had always used to be considering her new habit of wearing ridiculously high footwear. The witch grew closer after a moment, her lips twisted into a smile, flashing her white teeth. “When you thought I was dead, did you sob for me, Jason?”
It was less than a moment before the witch spoke again as her dark eyes searched his still rather pale face. “You look like you require more than a coffee, Marren.” Torturing this man had always been rather fun. Or at least attempting to. He had normally always had something to respond with. Where was his fighting spirit now?
“Third floorboard from the window. You’ll find something far more useful than coffee.”
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“Did you blub?”
Jason frowned, not comprehending at first what she was asking. When it finally clicked, he let out a disgusted breath. He stood up straighter as she made her way around to him. His knuckles grasped the mug tight while meeting her gaze. It was better not to rise to her goading. Death sure had made her a bitch.
“I don’t.” It wasn’t even that far past sunrise! The last thing either needed was something more than coffee.
Jaw clenched at her instructions. After a moment of not moving, however, his curiosity got the better of him, and he moved over to where she said. With the use of his wand, the floorboard was lifted. The dusty bottle of firewhiskey that was removed probably had aged nicely under there. The floorboard went back before he set the bottle on the desk, turning it to face Miranda.
“You wouldn’t have offered this before.” Even suggesting it would have been out of character so early in the day, and when there was so much more work to be done. Picking up the thermos of coffee, he poured his mug full before sitting back down, using the wand to nudge the firewhiskey towards Miranda. “Go ahead, Andy. I still have to work today.” Leaning back in his chair, Jason sipped at the still-hot coffee. Sam had been kind enough to help him when he got ready that morning.
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The bottle was placed on the desk next to them and Jason finally responded to her. “You wouldn’t have offered this before” he stated, seeming only fairly sure of himself. Miranda tore her eyes away from him and looked down to the bottle of firewhiskey. Half of the liquid remained and it was covered in an extremely thick layer of dust at least a decade old. Marren had obviously never known anything about it, bless his innocent ignorance.
“I don’t drink in the morning.” The witch brazenly lied. She simply didn’t drink when she had a job to do that day. When she was being watched so rigorously in her work at the moment. One foot out of line and Miranda was close to being out of a job she found an exciting, interesting challenge. There was no reason she couldn’t temp Jason to a tipple. He looked very much in need of it. It wasn’t everyday a former friend and colleague rose from the dead. And they had slept together, after all.
Still smirking, Miranda pushed herself up onto his desk, sitting on the edge and crossing her legs as she watched the healer in charge, her successor.
“What was my funeral like?” The professor pressed on, resting her hands on the desk behind her before she placed a heeled foot on the edge of the wizard’s chair. Little thought had really been given to family members that didn’t know the truth. Miranda had wanted away from it all. Her daughter had known, at least the woman had some heart. Yet Maya Elliot had been the only person to have been contacted by the witch.
“Did you say a few words?” He deserved this considering he’d rather pointedly just referred to her with a name she rather disliked.
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His eyes rolled. Of course she didn’t. Shrugging, he took another sip of his coffee, careful to not burn his tongue. He liked to taste the caffeine. And the rest of the food he ate during the day.
She moved closer, and he warily watched as she sat on the desk. Eyebrow rose as he glanced over her, finally settling on her face. She still looked good, damn her. Jason tried not to show how her close proximity was bothering him, but when her heel touched the chair, he felt goosebumps run up his arm. Was ‘empty’ an appropriate response? Or was that a little too childish? Eyes narrowed at her. “You should’ve gone if you wanted to know.”
“Did you say a few words?”
“No.” Trying to act like her being there, on his desk and leg arched so close to... him, like it wasn’t bothering him, Jason took another gulp of coffee before setting the mug down on the desk. “I was just a colleague. You had a few there.” Jason gave her a half hearted shrug. “You can take the firewhiskey with you. I’m sure you’re busy with... teaching.”
As if to exemplify his point, he picked up a quill and tapped a nearby piece of parchment, leaning forward as he did and forcing her leg back. "They're far more interesting anyway." An attempt at a smirk slipped unconvincingly on to his face before he signed his name to something and pushed it aside.
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Marren obviously wasn’t ready to welcome his former boss and crush back with open arms. It somewhat saddened Miranda, having had expected a bigger reaction for the man she’d spent a decade tormenting. But he just picked up his quill, pushed her away and practically ordered her to leave his office. Perhaps she’d gone too far asking him about her funeral. He needed to lighten up. That was Marren’s problem, he took Elliot too seriously. Miranda was certain he also tried to see something in her no one else bothered to look for. She had never liked that.
"They're far more interesting anyway." A pathetic smirk twisted the wizard’s lips and Miranda knew he was feeling a lot more than he was letting on. She forced a smile to grace her own lips. She wasn’t going to tell Marren she wished she hadn’t just upped and left, that she’d stayed around to actually do more with him than just have a meaningless fling. She couldn’t tell him how she’d been hit by him telling her he’d been dating someone. What Elliot had to do now was act her cold, harsh self.
The self that enjoyed taunting Jason Marren.
A hand reached out and two cold fingers took hold of his warm cheek, giving it a pinch.
“Is poor Healer Marren jealous?” she asked with a grin before pulling her hand back and pushing herself off the desk. “I’ll see you around, Marren.” The witch picked his coffee cup up, took a sip leaving a red lipstick stain around the edge before placing it down and leaving the office.