Regulation and Control

Who: Open to all Witches and Wizards
What: A garden party celebrating post-Mathwall times and trying to unite everyone
When: Friday the 30th of May, 2008, 11:30 a.m. until rather late
Where: Vaisey Manor and Estate
Rating: TBD
Status: Open; incomplete

Vaisey Manor and Estate was flourishing in life. Tall trees dotted the lawn, there was a rich walled in garden with a maze beyond, and an open field off to one side clear to the night sky. The house itself was fitting of its surroundings--old brick and dark woods that could have given it an almost sinister appearance if not for the bright lights shining in almost every window.

The rich, plush furniture that normally adorned Vaisey Manor was now transfigured and stored out of the way, upstairs. Wards were put around the upstairs to keep guests out, and only close friends and those accompanying said friends would find a break from the party up there. Wards had also been places in and around the house--anti-theft measures and safety precautions. After Mathwall, nothing seemed too extreme and so he had a number of experts come in and make sure to provide wards that would stay solidly in place. If anything were to happen, the entire house could be locked down if necessary.

Every room, as well as the expansive grounds, were filled with white chairs around round tables covered in sand-coloured silken fabric. In the middle was a single tower sandcastle, a little window carved through it, and an intricate design of summer flowers etches up the sides. Gradually, the etches flowers flowed into the real flowers that separated the base from the tablecloth, almost giving the appearance of it being one whole piece. The flowers were mixes of bright oranges and yellows, purples and pinks, Asiatic lilies and Dutch tulips, irises and chrysanthemums.

Royal lilies, sunflowers, Gerbera daisies, gladiolus, Dendrobium orchids, and hibiscus flowers in similar bright shades seemed to be everywhere--filling tall vases inside, covering lattice work and bushes outside, in garlands in trees. Everything seemed to be about the summer and joy and the richness of life.

Trays floated through the crowds due to house elf magic, providing an offering of finger sandwiches, appetizers, and champagne as well as red and white wines. Whenever a tray emptied, it would quickly be refilled, any dirty dishes left behind would instantly disappear, and messes were gone so quickly it was almost as though they never happened.

( Owl to A. Greengrass )

( Owl to Z. Smith )

Who: Charlie Weasley and Chris Warrington
What: Documentation demand
When: Monday morning
Where: Charlie's office, Scamander Park
Warnings: Swearing and lots of it, but otherwise innocuous
Status: Closed, incomplete

Charlie had more half-finished Mathwall paperwork on his desk than he liked to think about, and Warrington's owl--on the weekend, no less--had made him do too much of exactly that. He'd arrived on Monday morning and settled in with Mircea in his dingy office almost under the back stairs to make headway on the parchments and reports that he'd been poking at half-heartedly for more than a week.

As he worked, his quill scratching against the parchment, he waited for Mircea to announce Warrington. Mircea would know the twitchy barrister was coming long before the man knocked on the office door (technically the frame, since Charlie left it open).

( Owl to C. Weasley )

( Owl to Z. Smith )

Who: Fred Holden & Chris Warrington
What: Fred comes in to do paperwork post-moon, Chris has legal issues, foreplay ensues
Where: Fred's Office, Scamander Park
When: Mid-afternoon, 23rd April
Rating: PG-13 for Fred's mouth
Status: Closed; Complete

( And we certainly can't have anything unprofessional going on in this office... )

Who: Christopher and Jacqueline Warrington
What: An... after-meeting?
When: Sunday, April 20, 2008 - sometime after 9:40PM.
Where: Their home in London
Rating: G
Status: Closed, complete.


( ...well, i'm afraid that i - i'm afraid that i - well, i'm afraid that i asked myself... )

Who: Christopher Warrington & Zacharias Smith
What: A meeting?
When: Sunday, April 20, 2008 - sometime after 9:30PM.
Where: Zach's studio/flat/warehouse thing.
Rating: PG (*gasp* I know you're shocked.)
Status: Closed, complete.
Note: This is the piece of glass/art that Zach shows Chris. :)


( ...could you whisper in my ear/the things you wanna feel/I'd give you anything/to feel it coming... )

( Owl to Z. Smith )

( Owl to J. Cellditch )

( Wrapped Parcel sent to Christopher Warrington )

( Owl to Christopher Warrington )

Who: Christopher Warrington and Zacharias Smith
Where: the streets of wizarding London
When: April 12, early morning
What: An encounter in the aftermath of Mathwall and all that occurred.
Rating: G
Status: Closed; incomplete.

His step was still stiff despite what felt like the aftermath of a thousand spells. He should have known better than to try and make it for the studio after leaving Clare with Judith, he should've known better than to try and weave his way through the winding streets of Diagon looking for powder, and he most definitely should've known better than to stop and stare as he saw a thin, dark figure walking across the cobblestone, his hair slightly rumpled, his eyes shadowed as if he was contemplating something dangerous. Like litigation.

Zach jerked his head away with a snort, then shoved his hands back in his pockets. Not letting his eyes catch, he stumbled across the sidewalk, feet careful to step over the cracks in it. Not because he was superstitious but because it gave him an object - something to look at, to measure. Something he could hold. The lines traced a story, spoke of earthquakes and thunderstorms, of spells hurled mad during the second war, their shadows still burned in concrete. Suddenly lost in the moment, he knelt, his finger grazing one such shadow underneath a stairwell, his finger coming away black, a coarse print remaining in the powder. There was something about it that... tingled.

Who: Christopher Warrington and a random NPC
What: Boom?
When: Wednesday, April 9, near dawn/thereafter
Where: Outside Scamander Park/Mathwell, London
Rating: PG-13? Vague descriptions of violent death.
Status: Closed, complete.



( ...blood cells pixelate and eyes dilate/and the full moon pill's got me out on the street... )

Who: Christopher Warrington & Malcolm Baddock
What: A meeting during which Chris tries very, very hard not to freak out
When: Tuesday, April 8, 2008 - midday, shortly after Malcolm's note to the Regulators and Chris' reply.
Where: Scamander Park
Rating: PG? PG-13ish?
Status: Closed, incomplete.



Chris had watched Smith's scrawl as it raced across the page, the final word half-formed, half-finished, and then it had gone dark, gone black, blank - the only connection he had to his family blinked out of existence. He waited. He kept himself calm. He told himself to breathe.

By noon he couldn't take the silence anymore. Chris wasn't thinking in terms of theory or legal consequences, he couldn't think at all. His sister, his niece - they were stuck inside that bloody wall and something had happened that cut off communication. No one from inside was posting anything at all, they weren't writing, and he had promised.

Walking into Scamander Park, he tracked Baddock down, then waited until they were alone - it was a singularly lucky moment. The other man had been swamped, he knew, organising everything. "Now," he said, voice tense, expression strained. He tried to convey a sense of calm, but he knew his mask wasn't quite so flawless as it typically was. "Tell me what we know now. Any change? Anything at all. Did we do something while trying to get the wall down that cut off communication? Because the journals went dead. Smith's stopped mid-sentence. They've lost their magic. I think - that's what he was saying, writing. Baddock, tell me what we know." I promised.

Who: Malcolm Baddock and the theorists on the outside
Where: War Room, Scamanader Park
When: April 6th (day 2), mid-morning
What: More theorizing and discussion and crisis management.
Rating: TBD
Status: OPEN; in progress.

"It's a good thought," Malcolm nodded as he sipped on his coffee cup. The dark circles under his eyes stood out against his somewhat pale skin. "But I don't know that we should take that initiative. Let the Muggles try to use bombs; if we use them, it creates a public relations crisis that we don't need to deal with. And besides," Malcolm glanced down at his map, "there's potential damage to a lot of infrastructure--both theirs and ours--if we take that route."

But at least he had come up with something rational. Someone had earlier posed the idea of casting a Vanishing Charm on the wall--which was a wonderful idea, but it had been suggested the day before and had little effect. And besides, that was such a rudimentary idea that there had been no doubt in Malcolm's mind that it had been tried before.

He glanced at his watch out of habit. Trimble had still not appeared. He had only gotten four hours of rather restless sleep around 2 a.m., assuming that there would be no major catastrophes for those four hours. And besides, everyone had already turned green an hour earlier, so there was bound to at least be a respite from the trouble.

Who: Christopher Warrington
What: Somebody returns to London ahead of schedule
When: Late Saturday, April 5
Where: Scotland, then London
Rating: G
Status: Closed, complete.
Note: Short, because Chris won't let me write about how he's actually panicking.


( ...there's nothing here to run from - cause yeah, everybody here's got somebody to lean on... )

Who: Christopher Warrington and Everrett Mac
Where: Christopher's office
When: 3rd April, morning
What: Jelly Babies, tea, mutant octopi and credit cards.
Rating: G
Status: Closed; complete

( It's never too late for Skittles )

( Owl to Christopher Warrington )