Regulation and Control

Who: Severus Snape, Quentin Trimble (NPC)
What: The encounter of two rivals and companions turns sour, then surreal.
When: June 21, 2008 (late evening)
Where: An office building, the 13th floor, London
Rating: PG-13 for violence and attempted murder.

( It's Shame that drives you. Killing me won't erase your other murders. )

Who: Quentin Trimble and Charlie Weasley
What: Reporting on jobs we aren't really doing
When: Friday evening, late BACKDATED
Where: Quent's office, Scamander Park
Warnings: Probably language and discussions of violence, but that's about it
Status: Closed, incomplete

After he'd heard the last of his first-floor colleagues abandon ship and head out, Charlie took a few minutes to have something like a dinnery snack, conveniently packed by Molly, and then peeked out into the hall. Deciding the coast was clear, he made his way upstairs and knocked on Quent's door, Mircea trailing him like a shadow.

( Heavily warded memo to Malcolm Baddock )


( Heavily warded memo to Quentin Trimble )

( Warded owl to Quentin Trimble )

( Owl to Quentin Trimble )

Who: Charlie and Quentin
What: Exchange of news following the word of Dudley's death
When: Friday BACKDATED
Where: Scamander Park, Quentin's office

Charlie made his way up the back staircase of Scamander Park on his way to Trimble's office slowly, mind still reeling from the implications of Dudley's death. There were too many possibilities for people who would want to do Dudley in: someone angling at Harry, someone angling at the Regulators, revenge for the Unspeakable he'd shot, or something else entirely. Dudley had--had had, Charlie reminded himself, because it was going to take a while to get used to referring to Dudley in the past tense--a way of finding himself in strange and unfortunate situations.

It occurred to him that if this did have something to do with Mathwall, he might want to worry himself, but the familiar dog tread behind him on the stairs drove the idea right out of his mind. As he reached the top step and Mircea passed him, he reached down to give the dog a roughly affectionate stroke on the head. Then he made his way down the hall to Trimble's office and knocked on the door frame.

( Interoffice Memo WARDED to Regulators only - ((Note: sent not long after Romilda's owl)) )

( Owl to Quentin Trimble )

( Owl to Harry Potter )

( Office Memo to Quentin Trimble )

( Unwarded Owl to Quentin Trimble, CC: Anthony Goldstein, Liat Pfaffenroth )

Who: Quentin Trimble and Anthony Goldstein
What: A meeting
When: Monday morning, April 14th
Where: Trimble's office
Rating: TBD
Status: Closed, incomplete.

Anthony casually strode down the wood paneled hallway toward Trimble's office. He sincerely hoped this meeting wasn't about what happened in Mathwall. It would be weeks before his report was even remotely ready to be reviewed. He hadn't even started the autopsies on some of the victims yet. There was at least a week of work in the morgue before things could remotely return to normal. Sighing, he reached up and knocked on the door.

Who: Charlie Weasley and Quentin Trimble
What: Mathwell post-mortem
When: Sunday afternoon, 13 April
Where: Spelling range and duelling chamber, Scamander Park basement
Rating: PG to R for language and possible violence
Status: Closed, complete.

( Most Regulators didn't do their performance reviews at the spelling range. )

Who: All characters in or near Mathwall
Where: wizarding London
When: April 11, the intersection of dark to dawn
What: A charm bomb, a device previously unknown to the wizarding world, goes off, trapping several people in a six-block radius in Mathwall. By locating five points of weakness, the Regulators bring the wall down.
Rating: TBD, could go high for violence, etc.
Status: OPEN; in progress.
Notes: Due to IJ's current issues, this thread is going up now so that people can tag it as they like, tonight and into the day. I would recommend that "reunion" RPs and the like take place in emails and get posted as separate RPs and narratives, leaving this story for the actual description of the wall coming down. Feel free to add as many subthreads as you want on!

---

The Regulators began to creep to their station, a strange crew, gathered by Quentin from those that still had the strength and the ability to use their magics. From the position on the top of the hill, he could see the wall shifting and changing, a strange black shape seeping through the exterior, causing the endless pulsing to flatten in places, the veining of the face going black. The mark where Warrington had hit was slowly turning purple, like a bruise, and it was that which he motioned to first silently, saying nothing as his wand lifted to safeguard those who ran to the knoll across, ready to hurl a spell at any countercurse that should emerge.

One by one, men and women found their places, some armed with muggle weapons, a few others holding wands. The man remained impassive, considering the tall figures of the Obliviators in the distance, ready to swoop on those within the wall like hawks. There were some accidents that the Ministry would not allow to remain in the minds of those who did not know it. And perhaps, Quentin thought with grimly set mouth, in some of those that did. He would not like to vouch for the possibility of "accidental" erasure in the failing light. On a grey, overcast dawn, it would be difficult to tell wizard from muggle with no wands or time. That would be the excuse. They'd used it before.

But his Regulators would, at least, remain untouched. He'd driven that bargain at least.

"Prepare yourselves," he said, his quiet voice carrying across hill and reverberating against the wall.

Who: Severus Snape, Quentin Trimble
What: Rivals discuss the status of the wall.
When: Early morning, Wednesday-Thursday transition
Where: Scamander Park
Rating: PG-13
Closed

The chair creaked beneath him, and he listened to the creaking springs of the mattress beside him as he read. It was a Muggle story, admittedly, but one that contained magic and dragons, and all that they had once suspected of wizards but had forgotten. Collective memory made myth. "Sir Palamedes paused, his dogs gone on ahead to catch a scent on the wind. The forest whispered about the man and his horse, and the beast snuffled and pawed the ground. They were lost, he realized. The stars that shown through the trees over head seemed unfamiliar, but then he considered and thought it was the magic of this place. The dogs returned, their heads lowered. The scent was lost." The book dropped, and Snape peered over his reading glasses at the figure in the bed.

Cato's breathing was slow and regular. Carefully, Snape drew a length of material back into place, setting the book beneath the flickering lamp, blowing out one at a time each of the five candles.

Shutting the door, he followed the hall to his office, and checked the book left open on his desk. There was an owl message lying atop it. Drawing a travelling cloak from a hook by the door, he exited, descended the staircase, and went out the back door of the kitchen, passing by Helena who was absorbed in a length of parchment before her. She did not look up as his shadow passed her by.

Outside, if there was an observer, they would have seen his manner change. His back straightened, his face grew cold and inexpressive. He took the glasses from his face and set them in the robe pocket. Then he apparated to Scamander Park.

( Flying Memogram for Trimble )

Who: Malcolm Baddock and theorists
Where: Scamander Park, outside the wall
When: (Day 3) April 7th (time: ...yeah...)
What: Triyng to solve the damned conundrum, fight off the threat of the Unspeakables, and handle media relations. Where the fuck is Trimble?
Rating: TBD
Status: Open; incomplete

He paced back and forth, staring down at the now-multicolored map. With so many different parameters to consider, he had to make so many copies of maps... and so many different colors of ink were needed in order to keep each set of conditions straight. Malcolm now consulted hsi color-coded guide in order to determine what was left to consider.

( Urgent Owl to Q. Trimble )

Who: All characters in Scamander Park
Where: wizarding London
When: April 5, 13:15
What: A charm bomb, a device previously unknown to the wizarding world, goes off, trapping several people in a six-block radius in Mathwall
Rating: TBD, could go high for violence, etc.
Status: OPEN; in progress.

"Get moving!" Trimble's voice shook the depths of the building, amplified by the Sonorus Charm as it echoed through the walls, disembodied. "Mathwall's been attacked!" There was no pause between those words and a sudden CRACK! of Apparation as pages of parchment began to scribble themselves on the Regulators' desk, Trimble's way of giving orders. Details spewed across the page but in the end, little was said beyond the location and the fact that this had Voldemort's thumbprint upon it.

The doors to the War Room opened. What had been mockingly given the name in the past was a long room located underground, lined with maps of London that could be easily traced. Many of the Regulators' most valued books were hidden inside, shelved to look like useless muggle tactical manuals to the untrained idea. Slowly, as Trimble's instructions scrawled themselves down the page, rolls of maps began to unfold across the wide, flat table, the perimeters glowing of a wall that had not yet been investigated.