Regulation and Control

Who: Malcolm Baddock, Euphemia Borage and any Regulators not in Altnaharra
Where: Scamander Park
When: late, late Friday night
What: Unbeknowest to the Unspeakables in Scotland, their counterparts in England are attempting to take advantage of the situation that has most of the Regulators gone.
Rating: Who knows?
Status: Open; in progress

Euphemia yawned.

She could hear the clock faintly ticking in the distance, quiet and familiar, and before she knew it, her eyelids were drooping shut, her head falling in slumber. The soft sound of her snoring drifted through the lower rooms until she jolted awake, startled by a sudden CRACK! It was Apparation - but where? With a jump of her own, the woman snapped from room to room until she saw them.

Two men in suits, their fingers shuffling through the cabinets outside the Magical Theory offices while another had his wand poised towards the door. With a yelp, her body spun backwards as a blast of pure air slammed her against the wall.

Who: Anyone investigating the storms
What: After finding out about the storms, the Regulators formed a plan of sorts. Base camp is set up and Regulators try and put plans into action. Presumably.
Where: Atnaharra, Scotland
When: Friday June 27th, possibly into 28th
Rating: PG-13
Status: Open; complete

The handwriting on the owl back to "his" lab had been sloppy, small and squashed in an effort to get everything he wanted and his ideas onto the small bit of parchment. In the middle of the parchment, large, printed and underlined a few times he had written that there was to be no magic used in construction, or at the very least the smallest amount possible. Honestly, Ben wasn't sure how quickly they could do it but he had faith in the researchers.

Glancing up at the skies, again--it had become almost a habit in the past few hours--Ben glanced at his watch and then turned, hand going to his wand to construct a tent of sorts. He almost had it out, too, before he remembered and he scowled darkly at himself before starting to labour, doing his best to pitch the large tent before giving up. There was no way in hell he was going to get it up; he hadn't the first clue how such things worked. Camping had never been a hobby of his.

"I'll just stand under that tree, there," he mumbled. "Seems well safe, if it just goes for magic."

Who: Graham Pritchard & William Burke...and then Seren Fawcett
What: Mates catch up during their moment of calm. Seren attempts to heal Graham, emotions implode, yelling ensues.
Where: Altnaharra, Scotland - behind the cathedral they're all holed up at
When: Friday, June 27, the hours before dawn after this
Rating: PG-13
Status: Closed; Complete.

Everyone was inside the cathedral where Goldstein had set up shop to wait out the storm and wait on Dunstan's people to complete whatever bomb they could think up. There wasn't anything to do but wait, wander, meander. The flight from his encounter with that thing, which he'd filled everyone in on once they'd gotten inside, had his adrenaline high enough that he couldn't quite sit still. It didn't take long to find Pritchard outside, scribbling something or other in his journal.

"Ought you to be writing with an arm like that?" The disapproval in his voice was thick as he glared at the arm which was bandaged up haphazardly. His left hand. His dominant hand. And, therefore, his casting hand. "Shouldn't you have Goldstein doing something that for that?"

Who: Charlie Weasley and Graham Pritchard
What: Charlie wants to have a conversation with Pritchard about an internal revelation. Still in Altnaharra, Pritchard has little chance of avoiding it.
Where: Altnaharra, Scotland
When: Saturday, June 28, daytime
Rating: TBD, probably some language involved
Status: Open; in progress


He was starting to hate this bloody church.

Sitting on the steps, Pritchard stared out into the clear daylight, watching as it played across the rooftops ahead. He was tired. He slept little under the best of circumstances and sleep was considerably worse when you were doing it in shifts. His foot swung against the bottom step, tapping it with the back of a heel as he contemplated the fact that Regulators and Unspeakables were actually working together. He wondered how much longer that would last.

As he saw a tall, redheaded figure coming up the walk, he tensed. What in the hell could he want? Pritchard rose, his stance obviously defensive, as he waited to greet the older man.

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Graham Pritchard
What: Sparky comes out to talk with Blacky.
Where: Altnaharra, Scotland
When: Saturday, June 28, daytime
Rating: Language
Status: Open in a bit; in progress


"You look like hell," Rabbit said bluntly, standing over Graham like a force. The rain was pouring down still - there was no use avoiding it, and with each flash or lightning or clap of thunder sparks shot out of his fingers and caused him to wince. The scar was still rippling, his shirt and jeans soaked through with his own blood, and he gripped the flask in his hand like it was his lifesource. His eyes kept going toward the water, the dead there moving like puppets. There wasn't even a hint or shadow of happiness on his face. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he was losing optimism.

"What's all pear-shaped?" He asked curiously, sitting down on the grass several feet from Pritchard. "Besides..." he gestured up at the sky, his fingers shooting small bolts of their own lightning as he did so. It almost looked powerful or poetic. It stung like a bitch.

Who: Fred Holden, Daria Kis, Charlie Weasley
What: Filling Daria in on her shiny new enemy
Where: Fred's Office
When: Early Saturday morning, 28th June
Rating: PG
Status: Open;Complete

Fred and Caladbolg had gone looking for Daria the second she'd seen the notes from Charlie in his journal. She, of course, did not go looking for Cavanaugh as she would avoid him as long as possible lest she put him through a window when she did. She didn't see him on her search for Kis anyway. Fred also didn't find Daria, which was a little problematic. Defeat ringing clear in her head. Fred went back to her office and decided to give the other woman time to come find her before she started to hunt her down at her flat or summat.

Was it bad that Fred was slightly happy the thing had a target? Yes, likely it was. If it had a target, though, it would come for Daria, which meant Fred knew exactly where it would be eventually. She just had to be sure she was there, too. Fred waited, sitting on top of her desk in short shorts and her usual cut off tank with her shoes forgotten on the floor and Caladbolg propped against the chair she ought to be sitting in. It didn't escape her attention that it was very possibly an unhealthy attachment she was forming to the Lightning Sword, but she wouldn't risk not having it when she finally found not-Harry and she needed to bond with the weapon anyway.

Who: Anthony Goldstein and Katie Jones
What: Anthony gets a patient for his clinic.
Where: The clinic in Goldstein's flat
When: Saturday, June 28, the middle of the night
Rating: TBD, probably some language involved, violence
Status: Open; in progress

( If I should fall from grace with God...where no doctor can relieve me... )

Who: the Altnaharra Regulators and Unspeakables
What: Charlie and Graham have concocted a plan - now it's time to execute it.
Where: Altnaharra, Scotland
When: Saturday, June 28, after dark
Rating: TBD, probably some language, violence involved
Status: Open; in progress
Notes: This thread may be long in operating but let's assume the case ends up closed as a result.

The bomber jacket covered his arm nicely, Pritchard thought as he finally finished tugging it over the bandages, his eyes bright from the potion that he'd slipped to force energy through his veins. An old trick learned in the war and one that he hoped would last long enough to get him over the clouds and down again, his reflexes were rapidly sharpening as he picked up the borrowed Nimbus and glanced at the small group that he saw in the distance. Leaning it back down against the tree, he shoved his glasses up higher on his nose and breathed hard, waiting for the Guernian elixir to have its full effect. He wouldn't go up until it had taken full hold - he needed the strength.

His eyes surveyed the group, waiting for them to set into their formations after the announcement of the plan. He knew that Burke wouldn't take it well, but Tuor at least would back him up. With a wry smile, he hoped that it wouldn't be Tuor acting as his second to bring the creature down.