Memphis Mars
Ministry of Magic
Auror LoA
Let's make an appointment. My boot. Your arse.[on:Breathe. I am here.][of:Miss me?]
Posts: 60
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Post by Memphis Mars on Dec 22, 2007 22:01:23 GMT -5
Not my problem, Mars thought to himself as soon as the mug was in his hands. He was pretty sure who it belonged to, and with that in mind, he could have cared much less about it. The mug was distinct in its appearance, and it was clear as to who it could have belonged to. Yet the situation in front of him came to be this: It was the morning, he had been up all night due to an unsavory late night calling for further investigation, he needed a pick-me-up, and voila-- there it was, steaming and settled inside a quaint cup, calling him and begging him to steal it away from the owner.
Yet here was, back in the present, enjoying the detachment from the worry that anyone else could have had for doing such a brutish thing. To be honest, Mr. Memphis Mars was very good at doing such a thing, and it turned out to be a growing affliction that spread into his life, from small to big, good to worse, any and all kind of extreme. If he wanted to, he could have detached his entire being from all things possible that occurred in the world.
Except he didn't. Every once in a while he liked to feel.
Just not now.... he grinned greedily before his mouth disappeared behind the cup.
(closed)
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Jacob Corrion
Ministry of Magic
Auror, Hogsmeade Station Chief
This is the war that never ends...it goes on and on my friends....
Posts: 120
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Post by Jacob Corrion on Dec 27, 2007 23:50:06 GMT -5
"I DON'T CARE IF THEY WERE YOUR GOD BLOODY AUNT MURRIEL! I WANT YOUR BADGES. I WANT THOSE POUCHES AND YOU'RE BOTH SUSPENDED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE! NOW. GET. OUT."
There was a floor jolting crash as the office door came a fly from its hinges, landed three meters from it's starting place, was quickly passed over by a pair of rather young lads in dark Ministry robes and Jacob Corrion stood furiously glaring between the frame's shattered sides. Everyone on the floor had heard the rumors, that Milcroft and James had betrayed the department, betrayed the children, and their honor but Corrion was not about wait for the internal investigators to step up their fancy switches, shackles and canes. They were mere children in the end, something he'd known, argued and received little aid in from the very beginning of his Hogwarts posting assignment. What did it take? Just what did it take to make those beurocratic idiots see he needed experience and not brats?
Half of them could barely conduct an interrorgation without stuttering their questions...it was just plain ridiculous and inexcusable! No doubt they had been rushed through training, given a badge and handed to him simply because some pompous Wizengamor or School Governor wanted Shaw's head on his breakfast platter. He could accomplish much more with half the current compliment and ten year's experience for each...but NO, he had to be constantly denied. Every. Single. Bloody. Time.
Idiots. Children. Fired. That's what they would be, every last one of them if he'd had his way. If he'd had his way this department would actually be doing it's job instead of babysitting. Hogwarts had not required aurors when Voldemort lived, and Robert Shaw or not it truly did not require them NOW. It was proven fact that an elusive man could not be caught by stationary sentries. Proven, and yet never was it apparantly learned from. He needed experience, he needed mobility, and yet he was STILL bound to these god bloody orders!
He needed liquor. Now. Or at least something similar, stale tea would do, expired cider just as well.
And that was when he saw him, that hard-headed bloke from Manchester with the oddly Yank-ish name, and a cup. And for that moment, he didn't care. He didn't care that two green rookies had nearly cost the safety of children, he didn't care that he'd broken a door that would most likely cost half his next month's pay. He didn't care. A cup meant beverage, and his firewhiskey was behind him nestled safely in a locked desk door that with his current level of numbing rage would take an hour to open. He didn't have that time, and this was a matter of opportunity.
YOINK
In a flash he was behind the man, and in just as quick an instant, the cup was gone from his hands. "I don't care what it is, it's mine, you can keep the cup." And with that the rather disgusting taste and aroma of tea went past his lips, around his nostrils, down his throat and a fist came into contact with his face...
A perfect pain in the arse beginning, to another typical day at the office.
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Memphis Mars
Ministry of Magic
Auror LoA
Let's make an appointment. My boot. Your arse.[on:Breathe. I am here.][of:Miss me?]
Posts: 60
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Post by Memphis Mars on Dec 28, 2007 0:13:32 GMT -5
The entire scene was a shame. Just a shame... so Mars just put some sugar on it. He had little intention in turning an ear and an eye past the casual eavesdropping because he could only figure what had occurred. Milcroft, of course. Mars had seen the rookie seem more covetous about possessions once before, and he wasn't surprised that he had actually jumped on the idea, even if the offer came from Baddie #1, Shaw. Now James-- he did have something of a shock, but he was just as expendable as Milcroft. Yet if there was a lesson to be learned in the span of the last few years (perhaps the last few decades), it had to be that one should never find a shock in discovering moral corruption among those who supposedly exemplified the one thing they turned away from. Mars was just glad that they hadn't been caught under his watch.
However, no use in fussing over farewells. There was a liquid that needed more attention.
No point in the tea even coming near his lips when the entire cup did a vanishing trick on his mind. And in his hands... nothing. Not the gray porcelain or whatever mugs were made of these days. It felt like he had a newborn ripped from his arms, and now it was time to act against those who committed the crime after he committed the same crime.
To any chummy Auror, he would have brought them down to a homemade headlock and reminded them of an embarrassing rookie story in front of the crowded office, including the one attractive secretary. To Mars' dismay though, it was Corrion, the always uptight, never fun head Auror of internal pain and misery. The next words out of his mouth confirmed that he had moved his misery from one section to the next. He had his days with Corrion, but not enough to use such a fun li'l plan such as the one he had in his head.
Oh, poo. Plan B.
"You break it--" Mars began to remark as he timed his swinging fist towards good ol' Jakey. "--You bought it." No use in crying over lost or potentially-damaged dishes.
Or noses.
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