It was a lucky thing that prairie elves were hardly creatures, even if a little uncomfortable in the cold, because conditions just seemed to worsen after midterm. The snow continued, and piled up and up and up, and every day the elves went out and fought the good fight, shovelling it away on Master Paul Simon's orders, or at his side when Simon joined in. If they'd been the type inclined to mutter there would have been an unending noise echoing through the school at night from the elven tunnels and quarters below the school, but they weren't, so the nights remained as quiet as usual for a boarding school full of magically inclined children forcibly kept inside for over a month by the weather.
But that was all incidental, and of very little interest to anyone really, particularly Scurry who really didn't care much about what was happening so long as he wasn't in trouble and was able to do his very best to work his fingers to the bone in the service of Master Paul Simon, and make him proud of his Janitor of the First Order. Which was why, on what seemed one of the coldest, winteriest days ever to happen in spring time Sonora - or Arizona.... or for that matter the entire United States - he could be found muffled up as warmly as it was possible for a prairie elf to be, and struggling to remain attached to the ladder he was perched pecariously on, in the fiercely blowing wind. The wind was helping, to an extent with his work (he was working to break up the ice which was endangering the very stones that made up the building) and the snow had stopped an hour or two ago - not a thing to build up hope, as this had happened frequently, and was usually followed by an even more snowfall when it resumed - and this had to be done as often as possible. A particularly strong gust of wind came by, and Scurry found the ladder tipping sideways. Leaning the other way seemed to balance it alright for a moment, but then the ladder started to fall. With a squeal of fright, he threw himselfat the wall, catching hold of a window sill, and saw the ladder hit the ground below.
"Help?" Scurry asked shakily. "Help! Please, please can someone be helping poor Scurry? Master Paul Simon! Grandmother Tuppy? ...Scrappy? Anyone?!"
But the wind took his words away and worse, his reddened and freezing fingers, the clever fingers he knew were one of his best attributes, were starting to slip on the icy sill. The snow below seemed very far away.
"Help!" Scurry squealed, even as his fingers lost their grip entirely.
He scrabbled to re-establish a hold of any kind, scrapping the ice and snow away from the building in his efforts as he pummeted. His nails and toes scratched the walls as he went down, down, down, and the ice came away as never before. And underneath the ice... there was nothing but an impression of red before Scurry hit the built up snow below, breaking through the harder surface, but all in all finding his landing much softer than he had expected.
It was still several minutes before he could get to his feet. The snow soothed his scrapes and scratches, but once he did make it to his feel the wind made them sting. Whimpering quietly to himself, Scurry hobbled as fast as he could towards the nearest entrance... but even as he did so, something very strange happened.
The clouds parted and the sun came out.
The wind blew up, once more, fiercer than ever before, and the clouds disappeared.
And it started to get warmer. By the time he was halfway there it had reached freezing temperature - it had been well below just half an hour before. By the time he had made it to the door the top snow was slushy, and the air at a temperature that was normal for the time of year.
Scurry slowed down, suddenly deathly afraid. He peered fearfully over his shoulder, and saw the snow dripping off the visible statues, the bare hedges of the Labyrinth Gardens visible for the first time since before Christmas. The snow was visibly lower, and not because of the efforts of the other elves whom Scurry could hear giving cries of alarm and calls for Master Paul Simon to tell them what was going on. He looked forward, left and right, hunched his shoulders and gulped.
It was only a matter of time, in his personal experience. Only a matter of time until he heard 'Scurry' booming out in Master Paul Simon's commanding voice. And he didn't even know what he had done! Scurry froze in position, and was preparing to throw his head in his hands and wail his woes for all to hear when he noticed something else very strange.
His hands, even though they should have been rubbed raw by the stone weren't the colour he would have expected them to be. Sure, they were red, but not the shade of raw hands. They were the same shade he half recalled seeing as he fell. The same shade as that colour from the building. The colour he had never noticed there before in any oof his earlier cleanings. He felt a strange sensation around his feet. Water, still cold from its time as snow was trickling around them. Building up. Aiding the temperature which was continuing to rise in melting the remaining snow.
Scurry, with a yelp of fright, fairly leapt through the door and banged straight into someone.
"Scurry didn't do it!" he protested, entirely out of reflex.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
Subthreads:
Wasn't me either by Paul Simon Tellerman
Then who? by Jennifer with Scurry
39Scurry the Prairie ElfIt wasn't me! I swear it wasn't me!!0Scurry the Prairie Elf15
He'd left a good sized compliment of elves just outside the school shoveling and de-icing the school itself while he himself trudged through the thick snow to the small hut he normally coordinated garden maintenance from. That was where he tossed most of the transfigured tools that he didn't bother to turn back into rocks.
It took a little while, but he reversed each of the spells. Now with a decent sized pile of stones, sticks, a fork, two knuts, a pair of pliers which he'd apparently needed less than hedge clippers at some point, a little plastic figure of Mickey Mouse, and some other random junk, he began sorting through the items. None of them appeared to have any magical properties, but half the time Simon couldn't tell a portkey from any of this stuff either.
He stuck his head out of the hut to check the status of the weather but there was no apparent change that he could tell. A loud crashing noise coming from the direction of the school, however, suggested that maybe his presence was needed again. With a last backward glance at the pile of useless stuff, he left the hut and followed his own footsteps back to the building.
By the time he got there, it was decidely warmer than it had been, the snow was visibly melting, and his army was begining to panic. Simon himself was on the verge of doing the same because clearly he had transfigured the whatever-it-was-that-keeps-the-weather-working and he was going to get fired as soon as Bulla figured it out and he really needed the money from this job.
Well, everything was getting back on track. Maybe he could pretend he didn't have a clue about why. He was a trained actor. He could do that. He could play calm and clueless.
"Quiet!" he bellowed at the increasingly terrified elves. "There is nothing to worry about!" It was then that he started to notice the water seaping into his boots and he brain registered that there very definitely was something to worry about. The snow - the mounds and mounds of unending snow - was melting and melting quickly. "As long as we stay calm and work fast," he qualified, "there is nothing to worry about! Now try to divert as much of the melt-off into streams flowing away from the school as possible." Why, exactly, hadn't the founders had the good sense to build their school on the top of a hill or something? He looked around. Oh, right. Because Arizona was bloody flat. Little streams weren't going to cut it.
Dang, but it was getting warm fast. Too fast. It shouldn't be this warm yet. Oh crap, he hadn't fixed the weather. It was swinging into the other extreme. And the school was about to flood. Panicking was looking better and better. "You," he pointed out a group of elves, "Start up some walls of sandbags around the school." His eyes darted around his minions, counting, trying to figure the best way to minimize the damage. He realized he was missing one.
"Where's Scurry?"\n\n
1Paul Simon TellermanWasn't me either14Paul Simon Tellerman05
It had been a relatively nice day, for the ones they had been having recently. While it had been snowing earlier, and it was still slightly overcast and windy, but Jennifer needed to get some fresh air. She was beginning to understand why some of the other houses disliked her own so much, particularly the first years. She really did like them all, and was friends with many of them, but the constant pettiness was truly starting to grate on her.
Therefore, she decided to just see if she could brave the very edge of the labyrinth gardens, to sit and think and draw for a while. She had a feeling she wouldn’t really be able to draw properly, but even just the thought of a little quiet did wonders for her nerves.
However, something strange happened. Just as she reached the door and opened it to step outside, the wind that was threatening to recluse the door stopped. It didn’t die down a bit, it didn’t change direction. It just stopped.
And, even more strangely, it stopped being cold. The clouds parted, the sun came out, and it started to feel like Arizona should. Jennifer started to pull off her jacket, but then something hit her around the midsection.
As it screeched that it didn’t do it, whatever it was, Jennifer looked down at the thing. It was a prairie elf, she assumed, and judging by the panic in his voice, something had him terrified. She knelt down to look Scurry, she assumed, in the eye, and, putting a hand on his shoulder, said gently, “I’m sure it’s not, whatever it is. Do you want to go see Acting-Headmaster Bulla, or something? I’m sure he can help with whatever ha- Good God.”
She had finally noticed what was happening around them. The snows, which had been worse than the ones in England over the holiday, to tell the truth, were melting. And the water was beginning to rise at a truly alarming rate. Standing up quickly, she repeated, more urgently, “Scurry, we really do need to go see Acting Headmaster Bulla about this. Will you come?” \n\n
At least it was one of the nice young misses of the school. It could have been much worse. But Scurry cowered regardless, convinced that he had done something wrong, but not knowing what it was, or really wanting to have to face up to it.
And to take him to see Professor Bulla. Headmistress Marnett might have been alright considering that she was nice and a bit scatty - he remembered being taken to see her by Master TJ last year - but Bulla was a slightly more scary prospect.
Still...
"Miss," Scurry said, looking at his hands again and then, slowly, at the rising water, "do you be thinking that Professor Bulla would be being able to fix this?"
There was a sudden very familiar voice bellowing out in the gardens and Scurry made up his mind quickly. Master Paul Simon needed Scurry to do his duty, and if his duty meant telling Professor Bulla what had happened... then that was what he must do. Before Master Paul Simon realised that Scurry had done something and demoted him again.
"Is you coming too, Miss?" he asked, already starting to hurry towards the Head's office.\n\n
39ScurryYou think I know? I just work here.0Scurry05
The hired help generally knows everything
by Jennifer
"Of course I'm coming too," Jennifer replied quickly, starting after the elf. The poor thing just seemed so frightened. She supposed it probably was merely caused by the horrible luck in being the one who was outside when everything began to get worse, but the paranoia did seem a bit...iffy.
She was a politician's daughter at heart, and as an artist had learned to examine and analyze the people and things around her well. and perhaps it was just her, but Scurry seemed to be displaying signs of a guilty conscience. The whole 'Scurry didn't do it,' the panic, and the hasty retreat just seemed to be a bit strange for someone who was completely innocent.
Jennifer just shrugged inwardly, though, and continued to let Scurry lead the way. She really didn't know enough about him to judge his emotions, and it could all be very natural for the prairie elf.
"And I'm sure Bulla will know how to fix it somehow. He's very accomplished as far as charms go, and he's got the rest of the staff. It's all going to turn out all right." She hoped.
SHe realized as they left the gardens that she really wasn't sure where precisely the headmaster's office was. She knew it was somewhere near Cascade Hall, but that was about it. She also wasn't sure if she enjoyed being referred to as Miss, since it seemed a little arrogant and conceited, even if it wasn't her choice. However, there was nothing she could do about that little point, and Scurry looked like he knew where he was going, so it was all good. \n\n
0JenniferThe hired help generally knows everything0Jennifer05
Scurry has moved this thread to the Cascade Hall, Miss Jenny. Be seeing you there! *grins in a slightly guilty, but unsure what the hell is going on kind of way*\n\n