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peckenpaugh2020-05-11 08:16 pm
peckishmods) wrote in peckenpaugh2020-05-11 08:16 pm
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At Pompel & Swint's this evening...
6PM. There’s something strange about Pompel & Swint’s today. The atmosphere in the shop is often tense, but today there’s something different. Since their shifts started an hour ago both Laszlo Pataki and Armani Addams have felt a bit wrong — a little sick to their stomachs, maybe? But not even quite that physical. Whatever it is, this strange sense of unease weaves through that first hour, making the evening seem to drag on without end.
They’re both in the back when they find out why. There’s a pop. And a crash, shattering glass. Before anyone in the little shop can act, the acrid smell of burning chemicals fills the air. A puff of lime green smoke from the back of the room where neither Armani nor Laszlo were standing.
“Customers and kids out!” Mr. Swint barks from the front of the store. A second later he’s throwing open the storage room door, a bubble-head charm around his face. “Both of you—out! It’s not sa—”
Of course, his order goes mostly forgotten when his feet slip out from under him. Mr. Swint goes down hard, his surprised yelp stifled by the force of hitting the ground. Mr. Pompel rushes in after, but doesn’t quite reach before Mr. Swint is pulled away by his feet. He disappears between two tall shelves that teeter precariously as though they’ve been struck. A belch of orange flame shoots up that far wall, the green smoke billowing in great clouds, but Mr. Pompel, undaunted, rushes after. “Dick! Are you alright?”
Thinking quick, Armani applies bubble-head charms to themself and Laszlo to protect against inhaling of chemical fumes, while Laszlo attempts to fight the flame with magic. Nothing they try stops the blaze, which hops from one shelf to the next in search of more fuel, almost intelligent in its movement, until the whole storage room is burning, forcing both Laszlo and Armani out into the main room whether they were headed that way or not.
“What’s happening? There’s smoke?” Zippy Zebrowski is barging into the store, wand drawn, and already making his way toward the two students and the smoking storage room door. Just behind him, Doc Potts, Desdemona [and several student workers from nearby]*. Almost without notice, two bugs fly in as well.
Mr. Pompel climbs coughing from the back room. “It’s got Dick. It’s—you need to r—”
Something whips out from the storage room, catching Mr. Pompel around the neck. A vine. Down he goes, gone just as quick as Swint. But the students of Peckenpaugh know how to deal with vines.
Two student workers, Aristotle Ahn and Trudy McGilliguddy, push to the back of the shop, wands drawn. Zippy shouts in protest, but they don’t listen. The bright orange flame climbs out of the storage room to meet them, but it hisses — almost screams — when it’s met with the students’ combined freezing charms.
Water may not work, but ice certainly does. The adults and several other student workers join them in pushing the flames back until a handful of them are back in the burning storage room. Two cicadas zip between the group of firefighters, dropping to the ground and springing up suddenly to full human form.
“Keep it up!” Pocket shouts as she runs right into the flames.
Pouch knocks his shoulder against Eddy Waxweiler as he joins them in fighting the fire, summoning a spray of frost from the palm of his hand. “You and me—We make a pretty good team, huh?”
The blaze flares up one more time, a last ditch effort to push back against the onslaught. It can’t quite stand against ice from so many different sources, but it does its damage all the same. Glasses shatter, shelves collapse, and wooden beams begin to crack.
“We need to get out of here! Kids, y’need to go!” shouts Doc with a grunt, already dropping his wand to try and force the students out. “Where are Pompel and Swint?”
“I’ve got them!” Pocket replies. And she does, pulling the both of them, covered in moss, right from the flames. It’s quite a sight: the strange, tiny, teenage girl dragging two full grown men with ease. “Go!”
Escape is, unfortunately, not so simple. From the smoldering remains of alchemical fires, more vines whip up around the lot of them. [CHARACTER F] flings a charm that freezes a vine shooting for Pocket, and the plant falls heavily, shattering when it hits the floor.
“Nice,” Pouch compliments, turning to usher everyone back. “Gonna need yinz to get, though.”
The group inches their way out of the room, a couple students hurrying to help Pocket pull Pompel and Swint while everyone else slings spells to clear a path. From the ruined storage room they inch their way to the still burning shop, then out the front door and onto the street where crowds of locals, students and Peckenpaugh staff have gathered.
[In addition to Laszlo & Armani, 5 students who have part time jobs may have witnessed these events. Comment below to claim.
CLAIMED BY: Armani, Aristotle, Audrey, Eddy, Kermit, Laszlo, Trudy (5/5 claimed)]
Somehow unnoticed, Pocket drags Misters Pompel and Swint over to Healer Greatheart, who immediately sets to checking on them, while an older witch Armani might recognize as former Head of Deeplurk, Healer Zipporah Crockett, fusses over the students to check them for injuries.
“Holy shit!” shouts a freshman, pointing at the shop, as the whole thing freezes suddenly, coated in a thin layer of ice. All at once, the last of the flames are put out. There’s a load of racket inside, like icicles falling and smashing, and from the remains of the Apothecary struts the magimagicicada Pouch.
“My store. My shop! I’ve lost everything,” Mr. Swint gasps and chokes, trying to sit up, reaching for the ruined storefront.
“You’ve still got your life, you old fart.” Mr. Pompel replies curtly. “We’ll figure out the rest together.”
Meanwhile, amidst the still growing chaos, Pouch approaches his sister, standing worriedly beside Healer Greatheart. He touches her shoulder, but she pointedly ignores him, which prompts a heavy and exasperated sigh. “Little Sister, he ain’t gonna be safe if he can’t remember. You gotta give that back to him, at least.”
Pocket dithers, shifting her weight back and forth, but finally relents. Sighing, she pushes forward, crouches down beside Healer Greatheart, who only then seems to see her — really see her for what she is. “‘Scuse me,” Pocket says, then lights her fingers on Mr. Swint’s forehead.
A second passes in silence, but Mr. Swint opens his eyes wide. “Tinkerbell?” he says, a little baffled. Then, “No. He’s back.”
“That’s why you gotta keep safe, Richie Swint,” Pocket tells him, patting the side of his face before standing. She takes a step back, and bumps into her older brother. She turns to look at him. They seem to speak without saying anything at all, and then, just as more adults start to notice them there, the two disappear — Pouch like melting ice, Pocket into the ground.
From there it seems to progress like a normal fire scene. Chief Tan and her officers create a perimeter around the building, ushering onlookers back and then go in to search the premises with their wands drawn. Students are gathered up. Those who were inside the building are checked out and then taken to the police station to give statements. Those who were outside are sent back to campus immediately, escorted by several members of Peckenpaugh staff.
[In addition to Laszlo, Armani, and the 5 student workers. 5 more students may have witnessed this portion of events. Comment below to claim.
CLAIMED BY: Adrian, Viola, (2/5 claimed)]
They’re both in the back when they find out why. There’s a pop. And a crash, shattering glass. Before anyone in the little shop can act, the acrid smell of burning chemicals fills the air. A puff of lime green smoke from the back of the room where neither Armani nor Laszlo were standing.
“Customers and kids out!” Mr. Swint barks from the front of the store. A second later he’s throwing open the storage room door, a bubble-head charm around his face. “Both of you—out! It’s not sa—”
Of course, his order goes mostly forgotten when his feet slip out from under him. Mr. Swint goes down hard, his surprised yelp stifled by the force of hitting the ground. Mr. Pompel rushes in after, but doesn’t quite reach before Mr. Swint is pulled away by his feet. He disappears between two tall shelves that teeter precariously as though they’ve been struck. A belch of orange flame shoots up that far wall, the green smoke billowing in great clouds, but Mr. Pompel, undaunted, rushes after. “Dick! Are you alright?”
Thinking quick, Armani applies bubble-head charms to themself and Laszlo to protect against inhaling of chemical fumes, while Laszlo attempts to fight the flame with magic. Nothing they try stops the blaze, which hops from one shelf to the next in search of more fuel, almost intelligent in its movement, until the whole storage room is burning, forcing both Laszlo and Armani out into the main room whether they were headed that way or not.
“What’s happening? There’s smoke?” Zippy Zebrowski is barging into the store, wand drawn, and already making his way toward the two students and the smoking storage room door. Just behind him, Doc Potts, Desdemona [and several student workers from nearby]*. Almost without notice, two bugs fly in as well.
Mr. Pompel climbs coughing from the back room. “It’s got Dick. It’s—you need to r—”
Something whips out from the storage room, catching Mr. Pompel around the neck. A vine. Down he goes, gone just as quick as Swint. But the students of Peckenpaugh know how to deal with vines.
Two student workers, Aristotle Ahn and Trudy McGilliguddy, push to the back of the shop, wands drawn. Zippy shouts in protest, but they don’t listen. The bright orange flame climbs out of the storage room to meet them, but it hisses — almost screams — when it’s met with the students’ combined freezing charms.
Water may not work, but ice certainly does. The adults and several other student workers join them in pushing the flames back until a handful of them are back in the burning storage room. Two cicadas zip between the group of firefighters, dropping to the ground and springing up suddenly to full human form.
“Keep it up!” Pocket shouts as she runs right into the flames.
Pouch knocks his shoulder against Eddy Waxweiler as he joins them in fighting the fire, summoning a spray of frost from the palm of his hand. “You and me—We make a pretty good team, huh?”
The blaze flares up one more time, a last ditch effort to push back against the onslaught. It can’t quite stand against ice from so many different sources, but it does its damage all the same. Glasses shatter, shelves collapse, and wooden beams begin to crack.
“We need to get out of here! Kids, y’need to go!” shouts Doc with a grunt, already dropping his wand to try and force the students out. “Where are Pompel and Swint?”
“I’ve got them!” Pocket replies. And she does, pulling the both of them, covered in moss, right from the flames. It’s quite a sight: the strange, tiny, teenage girl dragging two full grown men with ease. “Go!”
Escape is, unfortunately, not so simple. From the smoldering remains of alchemical fires, more vines whip up around the lot of them. [CHARACTER F] flings a charm that freezes a vine shooting for Pocket, and the plant falls heavily, shattering when it hits the floor.
“Nice,” Pouch compliments, turning to usher everyone back. “Gonna need yinz to get, though.”
The group inches their way out of the room, a couple students hurrying to help Pocket pull Pompel and Swint while everyone else slings spells to clear a path. From the ruined storage room they inch their way to the still burning shop, then out the front door and onto the street where crowds of locals, students and Peckenpaugh staff have gathered.
[In addition to Laszlo & Armani, 5 students who have part time jobs may have witnessed these events. Comment below to claim.
CLAIMED BY: Armani, Aristotle, Audrey, Eddy, Kermit, Laszlo, Trudy (5/5 claimed)]
Somehow unnoticed, Pocket drags Misters Pompel and Swint over to Healer Greatheart, who immediately sets to checking on them, while an older witch Armani might recognize as former Head of Deeplurk, Healer Zipporah Crockett, fusses over the students to check them for injuries.
“Holy shit!” shouts a freshman, pointing at the shop, as the whole thing freezes suddenly, coated in a thin layer of ice. All at once, the last of the flames are put out. There’s a load of racket inside, like icicles falling and smashing, and from the remains of the Apothecary struts the magimagicicada Pouch.
“My store. My shop! I’ve lost everything,” Mr. Swint gasps and chokes, trying to sit up, reaching for the ruined storefront.
“You’ve still got your life, you old fart.” Mr. Pompel replies curtly. “We’ll figure out the rest together.”
Meanwhile, amidst the still growing chaos, Pouch approaches his sister, standing worriedly beside Healer Greatheart. He touches her shoulder, but she pointedly ignores him, which prompts a heavy and exasperated sigh. “Little Sister, he ain’t gonna be safe if he can’t remember. You gotta give that back to him, at least.”
Pocket dithers, shifting her weight back and forth, but finally relents. Sighing, she pushes forward, crouches down beside Healer Greatheart, who only then seems to see her — really see her for what she is. “‘Scuse me,” Pocket says, then lights her fingers on Mr. Swint’s forehead.
A second passes in silence, but Mr. Swint opens his eyes wide. “Tinkerbell?” he says, a little baffled. Then, “No. He’s back.”
“That’s why you gotta keep safe, Richie Swint,” Pocket tells him, patting the side of his face before standing. She takes a step back, and bumps into her older brother. She turns to look at him. They seem to speak without saying anything at all, and then, just as more adults start to notice them there, the two disappear — Pouch like melting ice, Pocket into the ground.
From there it seems to progress like a normal fire scene. Chief Tan and her officers create a perimeter around the building, ushering onlookers back and then go in to search the premises with their wands drawn. Students are gathered up. Those who were inside the building are checked out and then taken to the police station to give statements. Those who were outside are sent back to campus immediately, escorted by several members of Peckenpaugh staff.
[In addition to Laszlo, Armani, and the 5 student workers. 5 more students may have witnessed this portion of events. Comment below to claim.
CLAIMED BY: Adrian, Viola, (2/5 claimed)]
Re: (READ THIS FIRST!!) OOC - CLAIM A SPOT
Does it count as heroics if she mostly wanted to shout questions at the ?sentient fire?
Re: (READ THIS FIRST!!) OOC - CLAIM A SPOT