[Ellen is counting bottles. Not because she's worried about running out, but because it's habit and she needs habit, sometimes. The bottles for the still are ready. She's got the bottles set aside for wine already. She might try to get a few for Poítin, or vodka. They need a variety of alcohol.
She's still working out a few calculations when the rumbling starts. It's habit, but her eyes immediately go to the door, looking for the angel. When one of the feather brigade doesn't show up, Ellen grips the bar. Something isn't going right.
Because things always go right, of course. She skids off her feet and grabs at the bar, going down. Ellen rolls into a ball, closer to the door when things start falling. Wrapping her arms around her head, she waits for everything to stop.
The crash of glass echoes around her. She doesn't want to think of the mess around her when the bottles break and shatter. A line of fire shoots up her arm and she winces. When everything finally stops, Ellen pushes herself up, hissing when her hand lands on glass.
She's surrounded by shattered glass everywhere. Ellen looks down at her arm and winces, seeing the piece of glass sticking out of her skin. That is going to be a bitch to get out.
Jo's voice penetrates and she sighs.]
Here!
[She looks at the still and bites off a curse, grabbing one of the clean towels, wrapping it around her arm, careful of the glass. The Still is a mess, and that batch is completely ruined.
Her boot kicks at the mash. Completely worthless.]
Dammit. Jo! You alright?
[She picks her way across the broken still to check on her daughter.]
[Action]
She's still working out a few calculations when the rumbling starts. It's habit, but her eyes immediately go to the door, looking for the angel. When one of the feather brigade doesn't show up, Ellen grips the bar. Something isn't going right.
Because things always go right, of course. She skids off her feet and grabs at the bar, going down. Ellen rolls into a ball, closer to the door when things start falling. Wrapping her arms around her head, she waits for everything to stop.
The crash of glass echoes around her. She doesn't want to think of the mess around her when the bottles break and shatter. A line of fire shoots up her arm and she winces. When everything finally stops, Ellen pushes herself up, hissing when her hand lands on glass.
She's surrounded by shattered glass everywhere. Ellen looks down at her arm and winces, seeing the piece of glass sticking out of her skin. That is going to be a bitch to get out.
Jo's voice penetrates and she sighs.]
Here!
[She looks at the still and bites off a curse, grabbing one of the clean towels, wrapping it around her arm, careful of the glass. The Still is a mess, and that batch is completely ruined.
Her boot kicks at the mash. Completely worthless.]
Dammit. Jo! You alright?
[She picks her way across the broken still to check on her daughter.]