Regulation and Control

Who: Jane Doe and the spirit of Fionn Carpathian
What: Fionn has unfinished business to deal with before he can move on. Jane's a new sort of project.
When: Tuesday, July 8 2008. Afternoon.
Where: Department of Mysteries/the streets of London
Rating: PG

( If Fionn Carpathian ever needed a good enough reason to believe in life after death, this was it. )

Who: Fionn Carpathian and Katie Jones
What: Passing information.
When: July 4, night
Where: The London Eye
Rating: PG for language, at least
Status: Open; in progress

Katie tugged her coat over her shoulders, the thick black wool strange in the middle of the muggy London night. Blonde whisps of hair fell across her shoulders and she wondered whether Carpathian would be able to pick her out with the slight change in her appearance and the stooped way in which she was walking, a wound still healing jagged. It suited her - it was a good disguise that contrasted with her usual exterior.

Glancing down at her watch, then up at the lit cars that were slowly rocking overhead, she wondered how long before Carpathian was caught. Passing information from the Department of Mysteries wasn't exactly the way to preserve a long, healthy life.

Who: Fionn Carpathian and Jane Doe
What: She probably wants to stroke his luxurious locks of hair. Or something
When: June 30, 2008
Where: Department of Mysteries
Rating: PG
Status: Closed; incomplete

Jane was sitting still in her cell, her legs crossed and hands pressed together in a praying position over her chest. Yoga, she had heard, was one of the first steps toward preparing your mind for Nirvana. Not that Jane believed in that, or god, or… well, anything that required a belief in something other than herself. Humans needed that solace at times, to make them feel less alone and safe in the world, she needed only herself.

“Carpathian,” she said sharply, her eyes on the dark haired man nearby, tilting her head slightly but otherwise not moving from the pose. Once she had his attention, Jane smiled, and her voice returned to its normally pleasant state, “Do you believe in a higher power?”

Who: Astoria Greengrass and Fionn Carpathian
What: Randomness, because the girl needs a thread
When: Monday afternoon FORWARD DATED
Where: Ministry of Magic
Status: Closed, incomplete

Astoria had just finished doing a filler interview at the Department of Magical Transportation about the results of Hogwarts' most recent Apparation examination results and was on her way home. She stepped into the elevator on her way to the atrium and smiled at the other person in it as the doors closed.

Who: The Unspeakables
Where: the ugly staff lounge outside the Space department
When: Thursday 12 June, around 4
What: A discussion of the impending arrivals.
Rating: PGish? for language
Status: Open; in progress
Notes: I know we're fighting time zones here like whoa so I'm not setting order. Don't feel like you guys have to wait for me or anything. I'll respond as/when I can.


The staff lounge was, as usual, relatively empty, something for which Pritchard was remotely thankful. He liked it, sparse as it was. His predecessor had believed firmly that making the area as ugly as possible would result in people working rather than spending all of their time in that space. Pritchard hadn't personally noticed any of that - what he had noticed was a frequent habit of lounging around the chambers that lined the department, trying to see who could charm the most interesting object to float or how long it took a bug to freeze in mid-air and loud verbal contemplating of whether or not space was actually all that cold. He wasn't quite sure that classified as actually working.

He preferred a book.

Propping up a copy of Year with the Yeti next to a teakettle that had last seen use in 1972, judging by the rusting on the spout, Graham yawned and leaned against the counter, contemplating what he'd say to the next person in the door. As he heard it swing open, he decided not to contemplate any longer.

"Oi, you hear about those budget cuts? Looks like we're getting..." And he tried to hide the disdain in his voice but failed. "Regulators."