Amelia Eva Steinbeck 📚 Teacher 📚 Witch 📚 Available for pop culture consultation regarding the arts, literature, and other foreign mediums of expression.
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NAME: Amelia Eva Steinbeck BIRTHDAY: February 28th FAV CAKE FLAVOR: Mixed berries, whipped cream, and lemon curd
WHAT THEY WANT MOST FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY: For her AP Lit. class to pass their test w/ a 3 or higher.
Not broken is something, at least. A sprain can be nasty business in its own right, but healing is a much less complicated matter.
[Getting out of here is their priority now; whatever rummaging around they might have wanted to do after taking down their foe will have to wait— they can, he supposes, always come back, but curious as he'd been about what they might find here, her well-being ranks well above it.
Still on one knee, he shifts his angle and puts an arm around her, just beneath her shoulderblades, his brow furrowed.]
Here, if I may— put your arms around my neck. I can't possibly allow you to try to walk on that.
[She's a stubborn sort, but he hopes she won't argue with him on this point.]
That seems fair enough— one good turn deserves another, and you were a great aid to me. I'm hardly going to leave you stranded here after all that.
[Really, there are no circumstances under which he would, but knowing Amelia likely prefers to think of it as a trade, he'll leave it at that. Once she concedes, his arm around her shoulders closes a bit more securely before he hooks the other beneath her knees, pushing off the floor with one foot and giving a soft grunt as he draws up to his full height— she's not terribly heavy, but wizards aren't particularly known for their ability to carry things.
Cautious, he shifts her so that he can support her against his chest, scanning their immediate surroundings to ensure nothing has been left behind before he starts towards the exit.]
A good thing that we cleared these hallways on our way down here— let's hope for a clear shot back, shall we?
I could have just put some ice on it and call it a day.
[She's grumbling, but she isn't letting go of Gale. That has to count for something.
... When was the last time anyone carried her if at all? Amelia can't say it's happened before and even if Gale struggles somewhat, his hold on her is secure and it's comforting. Somehow. For some reason.
[He hears that muttering about ice, although when she continues and covers her face, he can't help but bite back a smile when he spares her a brief glance downwards.]
If necessary, I've no doubt you can, but I think you've done quite enough for one day, don't you?
[His stride evens out significantly once they've started in earnest, and the hallways are indeed clear as he heads back towards the exit with her in tow, only occasionally having to shift to ensure his hold on her remains secure.]
Besides, sometimes sprains need a great deal more than ice. I have just the thing for it in my workroom.
No, no, I don't imagine it will. You're not exactly the damsel in distress sort— we'll consider this an anomaly, shall we?
[He can't imagine he'll have many opportunities to do something like this in the future, though it would be lying to say he wasn't enjoying the warm weight of her against his chest as they go— despite the circumstances.]
Regardless, you're quite welcome.
[The exit comes up quite quickly, their trip expedited by the fact that they've already fought everything they'd come across, and it isn't long before they're in the elevator and back on their way to their home floor.
After a few moments of silence, he glances down at her with a faint half-smile, hopeful.]
I hope this doesn't mark the end of our explorations together, despite how it ended. We did quite well for ourselves.
[Why does he look so hopeful...? Well. She knows why but she isn't at that point of addressing it directly yet. There's no certainty in being able to answer what goes unsaid, there is no guarantee, and it would be better to let it die on the vine so neither of them would have to go through the trouble.
... And yet.]
That's rather presumptuous of you. I wouldn't end things over a sprained ankle.
I certainly wouldn't think so, but I thought it best not to assume. I suppose I could be seen as presumptuous either way, hm?
[He chuckles as his smile hitches wider, and shakes his head as the elevator lets them out on the seventh floor, its vaguely haunted ambience quite welcoming to him at this point.]
Well, once I have you set to rights, perhaps we can plan our next outing.
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recluserose) wrote2023-10-14 07:21 pm
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hotelcaelum
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[Getting out of here is their priority now; whatever rummaging around they might have wanted to do after taking down their foe will have to wait— they can, he supposes, always come back, but curious as he'd been about what they might find here, her well-being ranks well above it.
Still on one knee, he shifts his angle and puts an arm around her, just beneath her shoulderblades, his brow furrowed.]
Here, if I may— put your arms around my neck. I can't possibly allow you to try to walk on that.
[She's a stubborn sort, but he hopes she won't argue with him on this point.]
no subject
She looks like she almost, almost is going to argue about it, what with her aversion to being touched unnecessarily.
... But then she reluctantly wraps her arms around his neck and replies with a graceless grunt.]
I'll consider this something you're doing in return for your ribs.
no subject
[Really, there are no circumstances under which he would, but knowing Amelia likely prefers to think of it as a trade, he'll leave it at that. Once she concedes, his arm around her shoulders closes a bit more securely before he hooks the other beneath her knees, pushing off the floor with one foot and giving a soft grunt as he draws up to his full height— she's not terribly heavy, but wizards aren't particularly known for their ability to carry things.
Cautious, he shifts her so that he can support her against his chest, scanning their immediate surroundings to ensure nothing has been left behind before he starts towards the exit.]
A good thing that we cleared these hallways on our way down here— let's hope for a clear shot back, shall we?
no subject
[She's grumbling, but she isn't letting go of Gale. That has to count for something.
... When was the last time anyone carried her if at all? Amelia can't say it's happened before and even if Gale struggles somewhat, his hold on her is secure and it's comforting. Somehow. For some reason.
Her hand moves to cover her face with her hair.]
I can still cast from here if you need it.
[Mumble mumble.]
no subject
[He hears that muttering about ice, although when she continues and covers her face, he can't help but bite back a smile when he spares her a brief glance downwards.]
If necessary, I've no doubt you can, but I think you've done quite enough for one day, don't you?
[His stride evens out significantly once they've started in earnest, and the hallways are indeed clear as he heads back towards the exit with her in tow, only occasionally having to shift to ensure his hold on her remains secure.]
Besides, sometimes sprains need a great deal more than ice. I have just the thing for it in my workroom.
no subject
Well, I hope this doesn't become a habit.
[
is it a foreshadowing if it's already happened 💦]... But thank you. Preemptively.
[yeah]
no subject
[He can't imagine he'll have many opportunities to do something like this in the future, though it would be lying to say he wasn't enjoying the warm weight of her against his chest as they go— despite the circumstances.]
Regardless, you're quite welcome.
[The exit comes up quite quickly, their trip expedited by the fact that they've already fought everything they'd come across, and it isn't long before they're in the elevator and back on their way to their home floor.
After a few moments of silence, he glances down at her with a faint half-smile, hopeful.]
I hope this doesn't mark the end of our explorations together, despite how it ended. We did quite well for ourselves.
no subject
... And yet.]
That's rather presumptuous of you. I wouldn't end things over a sprained ankle.
no subject
[He chuckles as his smile hitches wider, and shakes his head as the elevator lets them out on the seventh floor, its vaguely haunted ambience quite welcoming to him at this point.]
Well, once I have you set to rights, perhaps we can plan our next outing.
[How's that for presumptuous?]