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Posted: Thu Jul 20, 2017 11:55 pm
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In your mailbox is an invitation on plain old printer paper. It asks that you come to the Court, to a particular room referred to as the "squad room," for a meeting to discuss your new duties. The portal, it says, will open at precisely 11am on Thursday morning. The time is inconvenient to most, but the writer of the letter seems sure you'll oblige.
Upon arriving at the Court, Noel and Noah--beefcakey, huge, uncomfortably reminiscent of Fabio--direct you to what appears to be... a sort of office space. There are desks with weird crystalline computers on them. There's a door that leads to a locker room, and a door in the locker room that leads to a massive gym-space. In the middle of all of it is Silk, dark hair swept back, military-style uniform spotlessly clean.
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2017 12:22 am
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Finn Derouen arrived at the court exactly on time, still wearing his Park Service uniform and holding an unmarked to-go cup of coffee that smelled strongly of amaretto. He did not assume any sort of were form, but instead remained almost stubbornly human - or, at least, uncomfortably. Uncertainly.
He edged his way past the fetches, giving them plenty of space, and found a wall to put his back to while he glanced awkwardly around.
He was not, by any means, well-versed in court etiquette, or were etiquette, or even what to expect at this juncture.
But he seemed willing enough to give it a try. After all, he'd been punctual.
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2017 5:24 am
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Preacher Maria did not shift into mink form. And this was largely... entirely because Silk was here and she'd probably get her panties in a twist again, she thought sourly. After explaining to Mercer (and finding he also had something inconveniently scheduled), she was allowed to kip out of work for a bit, though she'd return. However, since this was a were meeting, she'd dressed appropriately. Her tank top simply said 'NO' on the back and, on the front 'DON'T TOUCH ME'. It was a little obscured by her permanently crossed arms, however.
The beefcakes were, of course, here - although a lot had changed. Preacher glanced around the space curiously before settling her hip against one of the desks. "Y'ello, Silk." She did not greet the other person in the room who was, presumably, a moonwalker (even though he looked damn familiar).
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2017 8:18 am
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Ashton was five minutes early, as always; she would have preferred a time where it was solidly smack-dab in the middle of the day, but what did she know about magical etiquette? Well. Nothing, really, and that was mostly on purpose. Others could give up their lifeplans to throw themselves wholeheartedly into the vortex, what time they had left, rip themselves apart - she had a life, and a family, and a whole lot of plans that had been already hastily rewritten after Blackfriars. They'd been her plans for years. Nothing was going to change that short of death.
But, on the plus side, she looked ******** baller and as human as possible. That was good. Unobtrusive makeup, an outfit in gentle greens and blues; no fur.
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2017 6:21 pm
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Oliver was, by default, punctual. He showed up with his hair neatly kept, his shirt tucked up (and very nearly bordering on a blouse), the rest of his attire clean. Not exactly formal, but not terribly casual either. Nervously, he glanced around for familiar faces. Unfortunately Finn was a stranger, and Ashton he knew on the level of an aquaintence, which left Preacher ******** Maria in her DON'T TOUCH ME shirt.
Trust him honey, he wasn't planning on it.
He supposed this was for the Moonwalkers, based on who he saw gathered. Jamie would come too then, right?
"Morning everybody." He took a seat, clearly out of the way of everyone, "Though I guess morning is almost over..." His hands were set on the table top, his fingertips wrapped up meticulously. After the pleasantries, he settled into silent wating. The surrondings were a bit... weird, to say the least.
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2017 9:52 am
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"My apologies for the odd timing," said Silk. "I had previous engagements. As you can imagine, the Charter rewrite has created quite a bit of work for me. It took time for me to both understand your new role and prepare to inform you of it."
She paused.
"I say new. That's not quite correct. Your role is to defend the otherworld, the same as it has ever been, but now you have the resources here--" she gestured "--to do it.
"You know by now that you were once the 'secret police'. With the Charter renewed, your duties are clarified, and we may begin to shape them to the wills of those among you who have the heart to do it. Your role is to contain threats identified by the wargs, and to maintain containment on the guilty identified through the Court trials. You will never have to kill, and you are not beholden to obey the nobility. But you will have to act, upon occasion at times inconvenient to your human lives, to defend your human world from threats originating from this one."
Silk plucked a book from inside her coat, checked something inside it.
"If you feel yourselves unwilling and unable to assume such a role, it is possible for your moonwalker abilities to be taken from you. However, there is a consequence--you will no longer be able to shift your shape, to apply an illusion or glamor affecting your appearance--and these powers will never come back to you. The capability will be utterly removed. You see, the powers of the moonwalker are intrinsically connected to your duties as a moonwalker, and thusly failure to complete your duties will result in your powers becoming destabilized and eventually, the shattering of your magical core if not attended to."
She closed her book.
"These materials here are yours to use. The crystalline structures on your desks function similarly to computers. Currently, they are not keyed to any one moonwalker. You can choose to key it by placing your hand on the item to the right or left of the screen that resembles a mouse pad. This is the device which will contain requests from the wargs or the nobility; according to the new Charter you should take on at least one task per month to prevent the decay of your powers.
"Are there any questions?"
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2017 12:55 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2017 7:09 pm
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As Jamie took his place among the small group, he tried not to look awkward about it. Everyone here was someone he recognized, but as far as a tight knit connection with any of them—the choices of who to stand next to were limited.
"Hi, Ollie," he said, putting a hand on his shoulder as he came up behind him. Silk was talking and he was listening, but he was also throwing a sidelong glance at Finn standing alone against the wall. Guilt still ate at him sometimes. He hated that Finn had to be here at all, but he threw him a wave. Maybe they could talk afterward.
"You'll have to kind of humor me with this question, sorry," said Jamie, turning back to the front, "but what if for whatever reason someone isn't able to fulfill this new quota? How quickly would their powers start to decay? Is it like... one month and they're in real danger? How much time would someone have to get back on their feet before it's critical...?"
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2017 9:08 am
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2017 9:51 pm
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Lily was, as usual, not punctual in responding to the portal summons that she'd conveniently forgotten, but she was at least quiet about it as she settled in towards the back of the room, vaguely hiding the smoothie that had made her late behind the bulk of her duffel bag. She was dressed more goth than yogi today, wearing a tattered black jacket that looked like it might have been sloppily cut by hand. It was a good match for her hair, which had been half singed by the fight with the Burning Man and left as a messy flop of an undercut. If anyone asked, she'd been telling them that she'd fought a living grill and lost, which by her estimation wasn't completely false. It made for interesting conversation, at least.
She waited until there was a pause to jump in, and lifted her non-smoothie holding hand to request a moment to speak. "So we get dispatch from the wargs, go check out whatever's not supposed to be going on, and then we just kind of...get our containment on, I guess?" That didn't sound too terribly hard. She looked at the other faces in the room, uncomfortable and tense. "But as long as we're helping with that, no one's going to come up and ask us for our magic badge, right?" She thought about all the ways she'd seen things go wrong in the past, all the containment efforts that had failed in one way or another.
Idly, she wondered if the gig actually came with magic badges. That could just make the meeting worth the time.
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