[closed] june catch-all!

[ua_duibhne]

Who: Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Waver Velvet, Justine (will edit as necessary)
When: Throughout June
Where: The Coven, the Haven, etc
What: A June catch-all log! Moving in, magic practice goes Wrong and other shenanigans.
Warnings: n/a

[starters in comments!]

Comments

[ua_duibhne]

[As Waver struggles with the dilemma of which room to claim as his own, Diarmuid face a problem all of his own making. The incantation used to charm the mop is simple enough and, with the affinity for magic this place granted him, they trip off of his tongue easily enough. After just his practice chant, he sees the mop twitch and, when he casts it in earnest, the energy flows with little restraint.

Too little.

It all goes well at first. As he watches in delighted silence, the mop swings itself upright and swivels this way and that, as though surveying the job ahead of it. After a few moments, though, it seems satisfied and, with a little hop, dunks itself in the bucket and begins to clean the floor. With a satisfied nod, Diarmuid turns his attention to the bookcase and fetches a cloth to try and make a head start on the dusting. He's only on the second shelf, however, when he feels something drip onto the back of his neck. Frowning, he turns-

- and ends up with a mouthful of mop.

When Waver returns, he'll find Diarmuid wrestling on the floor with a mop that's all too determined to scrub that mole off of his face. No wonder he sounds so panicked.]

Ah, Waver, no-! Don't come in y-

[Well, there goes his dignity.]

[tryhard]

Eh?!

[ Waver, to his credit, immediately jumps to action. He moves to grab the mop, trying to wrestle it off of poor Diarmuid's face before it suffocates him in its efforts. ]

Lancer? What happened?! What did you do to-- wah?! Ouch, HEY!!

[ Unfortunately Waver's little stick arms don't seem to be enough to yank away an actual stick, which whaps him across the chest in a wide swing that sends him sprawling down onto his ass. ]

Dispel! Dispel whatever you did, you idiot!

[ Sorry, Lancer. He can't be very polite when he's splat on the damp ground, ass smarting. It's nothing personal, really. ]

[ua_duibhne]

[You know, in a stupid way, it's kind of nice that he talks to him exactly the same way he talked to Rider. Not that he can really appreciate it under these circumstances. Waver's efforts earn him a moment of reprieve- long enough for him to focus and bring to mind the spell that he was taught to make the damn thing stop.]

I'm trying-!

[Before the mop can go to town on his face all over again, shoves it away with one hand and spits out a command. Sure, he gets a mouthful of dirty, soapy water in the process but, seconds later, it stiffens, shudders and clatters to the ground.

Slowly, Diarmuid sits up. He's soaking wet and covered in suds, the waves knocked out of his hair where it's half plastered across his face.]

... Waver Velvet. [As quietly as he's speaking, there's no disguising the embarrassment.] If you would keep this between us, I'd be very grateful.

[tryhard]

[ Waver quickly scoots back out of the way as the mop clatters lifelessly onto the floor just about where he'd been sitting a few moments ago. He stares up at Diarmuid, both of them just catching their breaths in a moment of silence for their respective dignities...

Then, Waver sighs loudly and moves to picks himself up, grabbing the mop on the way. He hopes the shower works. ]

Don't be dramatic. Who would I even tell?

Let's just clean up the old fashioned way. No more spellwork you don't know how to handle. I won't have you flooding the whole flat.

Got it?