September 15, 1893 — St. Mungo's

It was well after midnight before the first lull of the carnage arrived. The nauseating scent of blood hung heavy throughout every room and hall of the hospital. However, none had had time to worry about cleaning charms in the chaos. No one had had any time to breathe or complete their notes or any other nonsense. And now that some time had finally arrived Rosalie found herself completely unable to move from the spot on the wall she'd sagged down against once being given the okay to take a minute by her supervisior.

Her healer's robes were drenched and stained with a mixture of blood, sweat and ash. Her face and hair were likely both darkened by soot. Dragons in London. There were dragons in the city she'd come to over the past three years. She couldn't fathom how such an incident occurred, she couldn't understand how the ministry had failed them so spectacularly that such a tragedy was even a possibility. Hundreds would die in this attack, hundreds had likely already died. And the muggles — they would be lucky if the muggles didn't rise against them again.

Rosie was bordering on the verge of hysteria when a pair of similarly stained trousers suddenly blocked her line of sight, forcing her to look up at the man. She recognized him as another healer from one of the departments she didn't consider but couldn't recall his name nor did she comprehend what he said with all the noise in her head. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" She asked, dread already settling deep in her gut at the thought of having to return to work so soon after sitting.

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Caltheus Rookwood

  

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Beautiful set by Bee <3

What a day. Cal’s neck already had quite a few knots in it, and he massaged the spot as he made his way through the crowd. It might be easy for people to think that any healer worth their salt would be used to blood and carnage, but when it came to mass casualties like this - it took a toll on anyone regardless of their expertise. Which was why Cal was very much looking forward to his impending reprieve. It had been a long time since he’d felt a mind-numbing shift like this. There was an intense ache somewhere behind his eyes, as if he’d spent the entire day with his eyes open without blinking. No matter how hard he tried though, there were little spots in front of his vision every so often. He’d been about to head into one of the resting rooms and perhaps take a very uncomfortable nap on the cot before he spotted a familiar sight ahead of him.

With a sigh, he walked over. He’d seen her around quite a bit, though they were in different departments so had never exchanged much past the usual greetings. He wasn’t surprised when she looked up at him, oblivious to the question he’d posed. So he lowered the untouched cup of tea and saucer in his hand. “I asked when the last time you ate was.” He repeated, releasing the saucer so it floated in the air in front of her if she wanted to take it.

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Rosalie blinked at him thrice before the question registered, then her look turned from one of exhaustion to one of confusion. Nothing felt as inconsequential as food in a situation like this, and even if she did have the thought to consume something she was certain it would taste of ash and blood. Neither was a flavor she was particularly keen to try.

Still, she accepted the cup and saucer with an appreciative nod before lowering it down onto the ground besides her. Despite their separate departments, Mr. Rockham (Ramsey? Rowland?) remained her superior. Rosalie hadn't yet lost all sense of self that she was capable of failing to recognize that significance. "Thank you," she murmured after realizing too long a pause had elapsed between her acceptance and looking back up at him.

"It was some time ago, I think. I'll ... I'll find something soon, I just - I needed a minute." She then added as an explanation for the way she had sagged down against the wall.

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Beautiful set by Bee <3

Cal winced sympathetically; or what he thought would appear as such. Instead it only presented itself in the form of a frown as he stared down at her. He really ought to get back to check in with his team, but in all fairness, he had told them he’d been on a break. The call of an uncomfortable cot somewhere in the hospital was tempting, and yet instead he found himself kneeling down to sit next to her, back against the wall like her.

With a sigh, he reached into his robes and brought out a small parcel of biscuits. Unwrapping it, he offered it to her before taking one of his own. “Courtesy of a family member,” He said. “Take as many as you like.”

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The steam wafting off the teacup was mesmerizing enough that she only noticed him sliding down the wall besides her at the last second. There was so much death here today, so much destruction and devastation. So much tragedy. Rosalie had known going into her career that it wouldn't be a beautiful one, that she'd lose as many patients as she saved. Not once had she predicted this level of carnage, not once had she prepared herself for this sort of eventuality.

She took a singular biscuit and stashed it on the saucer alongside the teacup. "There were no lessons on this." She said to Mr. Rochester. (The name still didn't feel right, but Rosalie felt as though her every thought was happening behind a fogged window.) "There's always the rare serious injury, but that's one person. This is - " Rosalie broke off and shook her head. This was a nightmare.

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Beautiful set by Bee <3