Don't touch that dial!
Jul. 6th, 2013 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ghostboy posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
museboxedin Danny didn't know what it meant when two owls cuffed him over that morning's mail call, but he had a strong suspicion that it was nothing good.
The door to the Owlrey was heavy, and he paused just past it to take in the wave of owl sounds and owl smells that assaulted him right off. His nose wrinkled in distaste and he glanced around (a shifty sort of look that seemed perfectly at home over his house's tie), before forging into the room. The wizarding world did a lot of things better than muggles did, but mail definitely wasn't one of them. For a moment he thought longingly of the memory of a completely birdless postman's visit, before a large owl swooped close enough to his face for feathers to brush his fringe, and Danny quickly dragged his attention back to the present.
Where--there. Danny faced the owl, eyeing it as though it might swoop at him again. "Was that you at breakfast?"
It gave him a baleful stare and clacked its beak, before taking off towards a nook around a gentle corner. Danny frowned and followed.
There were tables with parchment and quills lining the wall at that end, for any students or teachers that wanted to add last minute notes to their letters and hadn't thought to bring their own supplies. Owl droppings littered the surface since the last cleaning charm had kicked in, and odd feathers floated here and there. The owl Danny had been following had perched on a muggle cardboard box that was taped up with bright colors. A neon yellow envelope was taped plainly to the top with the word 'Danny' written at its center, and 'Mom and Dad~' in the heart in a corner. Danny lifted the envelope and spotted a message jotted on the package under it.
The door to the Owlrey was heavy, and he paused just past it to take in the wave of owl sounds and owl smells that assaulted him right off. His nose wrinkled in distaste and he glanced around (a shifty sort of look that seemed perfectly at home over his house's tie), before forging into the room. The wizarding world did a lot of things better than muggles did, but mail definitely wasn't one of them. For a moment he thought longingly of the memory of a completely birdless postman's visit, before a large owl swooped close enough to his face for feathers to brush his fringe, and Danny quickly dragged his attention back to the present.
Where--there. Danny faced the owl, eyeing it as though it might swoop at him again. "Was that you at breakfast?"
It gave him a baleful stare and clacked its beak, before taking off towards a nook around a gentle corner. Danny frowned and followed.
There were tables with parchment and quills lining the wall at that end, for any students or teachers that wanted to add last minute notes to their letters and hadn't thought to bring their own supplies. Owl droppings littered the surface since the last cleaning charm had kicked in, and odd feathers floated here and there. The owl Danny had been following had perched on a muggle cardboard box that was taped up with bright colors. A neon yellow envelope was taped plainly to the top with the word 'Danny' written at its center, and 'Mom and Dad~' in the heart in a corner. Danny lifted the envelope and spotted a message jotted on the package under it.
"'Do not open around ghosts'? Seriously?" Danny gave the owls a look of askance that they returned with irritation, before flying up to more comfortable perches.
Well, that explained why the birds had dragged him up there. (Sort of.) Not bothering to hold back a sigh, Danny reached for the box's nearest tape edge.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-07 07:08 am (UTC)No mail for over a week and a half. Not one goddamn word, and this after Phil'd been assured, personally assured that he would receive weekly updates regarding his case's status. Anything about the wizards who were after him, about the court's decision, about whether he might be able to get his ass back in the U.S. of fucking A any time soon (not especially likely, but while Phil had largely reconciled himself to spending a couple of years abroad, he hadn't given up hope). So where the fuck was his update, huh? He was starting to get anxious. He was becoming more antsy with every passing day. And one thing Phil didn't need was more nervous fucking energy.
When Thursday morning's mail call came and went with no sign of mail, Phil at last decided he'd had enough of waiting. Hadn't he been patient? Hadn't he been tolerant, giving them all this extra time to send the one thing he'd specifically requested ('demanded' might be a better term for it)? And they just kept dragging him out, just leaving him to imagine the worst. It wasn't fucking fair, it wasn't right, and he figured it was about time to take action.
Lacking an owl of his own (they hadn't been practical in his line of work; pigeons had proven less obtrusive), he decided to borrow one of the school's, and after penning a quick letter headed toward the Owlery. A borrowed owl wasn't ideal and it wasn't exactly safe, but Phil's message was secure enough. Let prying eyes get what they could out of 'I'm on pins and fucking needles wondering if you've got anything to share with me, assholes'.
Aw, damnit. The door was already open, and it looked as if someone was already inside. Phil had hoped to send his letter without running into anyone (he wasn't certain whether a student or a professor would be worse; either would be bothersome and prone to gossip, and he didn't need to suffer anymore suspicious eyes just now). Too goddamn late for that.
Still, he could play it cool, try to get through this with minimal contact. Before he can rethink the whole idea and pull back, Phil enters quietly, cautiously. This whole ordeal's getting to be a major pain in the ass.
1/2 (Well this was later than I expected, but better late than never!)
Date: 2013-07-13 06:31 am (UTC)The box was deep enough that if he'd reached all the way in, the top would have come to halfway above his elbow. Danny didn't reach in to test this, and instead poked cautiously at the packaging peanuts floating at the box's surface, as though they were actually waters with pirhanas lurking. Apparently satisfied then that the waters were fine (or at least fine enough to go further), he reached in his other hand, feeling for anything.
Moments later saw him drawing up a gleaming metal ecto-blaster, with wickedly smooth surfaces and a distinctly futuristic theme to its design. Danny treated it as though it might explode in his hands at the slightest disturbance, and when a high-pitched whine powered up, he froze.
"Ghost detected. Safety unarmed."
Danny gave a high pitched sound of complete protest and hastened to thrust it back into the box, when he yelped outright and yanked the hand closest away from its handle. The other hand hadn't been quite as fast, and the ensuing blast from the ecto-blaster almost took one of his ears off, striking the overhead ceiling with a 'FRAKSH' that shook the room to its stone floors. The air was suddenly a low thunder of beating wings and a din of startled hoots. Danny covered his face with his arms as a few wings batted close in their haste to catch air, and he remained crouched until the pandemonium had finally begun to fade.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-13 06:31 am (UTC)"Dad is so not getting a father's day card," He growled, looking upwards to inspect the damage. The ceiling was intact, but there was a great smear of charcoal where the wooden beams had been charred. Owls still landed and took flight fitfully. The whole room was nearly completely empty.
"Mom neither," he added decisively.