Founded in early 2009 following the vanishing of the wizarding world, this hush-hush group originally sought to find out what happened to avoid facing the same fate but now serves to research ways to safely defend themselves against the likes of magic should the need ever arise.
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by: Kameron Hayes
#13154
Thursday, June 14th, 2012, 7:00am

Kameron took in a deep breath as she opened the door of her car and stepped onto the pavement of the parking garage. She reminded herself that she was ready for this position; after all, Lex had gone over and over the expectations that she would need to be aware of for the last few weeks. She suppose that it was normal to feel nervous upon entering your dream job, especially in a field where she could actually help people.

Kameron clipped her badge on the lapel of her suit jacket, and took the first step into the unknown, and towards the elevator that would carry her up to the level that she needed to be on. She tapped her fingers against her arm and rocked back and forth on her feet as she waited for the elevator to 'ping', signifying that it was ready for her to board. Once the door opened, she slipped inside and shuffled in with all the rest before looking at the buttons along the panel. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips when she realized that someone had already pushed the number that she needed. Everything was going smoothly, she could only hope that the trend would continued through the rest of the day. Once again she heard the 'ping' and she made her way to the front of the elevator so that she could get off before it began it's ascent to the next floor. She made her way to the door, swiping her card before pushing the door open. Today she was not just the intern that ran and fetched coffee for everyone or the one that made copies, today she was suppose to be observing on her first case, and she could not be more thrilled. As she waited for her supervisor to come in, she fidgeted with the button on her jacket, half of the mindset of pacing as she waited, but she knew better than to do that. She did not want to seem overly excited about the situation, even though inside she was jumping up and down on the inside. She needed to keep her cool.
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by: Cole Callaway
#13283
Meanwhile...

Cole had the bagel from the break room pinched between his teeth, and it hang halfway out of his mouth. His hands were full and he needed another method of transport so he didn't have to walk over from his office again. His bones were still healing and the doctors recommended a healthy bit of exercise to help everything get back to normal, but he really didn't want to make the second trip. He passed Randall in the pit and set down a cup of coffee for him, gently patting him on the shoulder with his now-freed hand.

"Thanks, boss." Randall said, making Cole shake his head with a slight smirk. Everyone like bringing up the fact that Cole had become Director just a few days ago, but it wasn't going to stop him from his morning breakfast, his routinely trot from the break room. He was still Cole Callaway, and an agent, just like everyone else. The responsibility, the headaches...everything was still the same.

He made the trek to his office, clutching the front of the bagel and tore off a piece with his teeth, chewing on it as he got situated.

Ahh...Mail. He mused, setting down his cup of office swill in exchange for the envelope. He swallowed down the bite of food and picked up the small parcel from his desk surface. The print was elegant and looked like something printed out with the latest version of office Word--but the ink strokes were made from a brush and ink--this was handwritten. He shook the package near his ear and could hear the shuffling of paper within the cushioned package, as well as a small item inside.

"To the MI:5... Urgent... Care of: Agent Orion Burgess...?" He read aloud. Cole narrowed his eyes. Orion. Why did he get something from Orion? Once upon a time, he'd gotten Schmidt's mail. At some point, someone mistook him for Morgan Jones. Yeah, that newbie in the mailroom didn't last too long did they? At any rate, Cole set down his pastry on a napkin and sighed. Orion wasn't at his desk and this looked important, so he knew he'd have to make a second trip to hunt down the young agent before getting back to his paperwork.
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by: Orion
#17260
"Bum bap di di dah dip deep dah...hah doot doo dah...beep deep dee dee dat dah, dah doot doot doo doo doom..."

Trish hummed not-quite to herself as she shimmied through the alleyways between the cubicles of Five. It was a good morning; her tea was on point, her cat was super cuddly when they woke up, the chapter of the book she was on was super satisfying, and it was going to be a great morning at work.

"Mornin', Cal! You know what today is? It's intern day!"

The doctor smiled at her friend as she passed him, infectious and chipper attitude set to maximum as she blasted him with her early-morning happy vibes. Today was the day she got a fledgling graduate to help her with her casework.
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by: Cole Callaway
#17282
Cole walked down the aisle toward Burgess' desk when he spotted a familiar face heading down the hall. Trish. She was humming to herself, and it was audible even at a distance. What's gotten into her?? He wondered. No one was this perky in the department, at least not with the Hounds, but leave it to Patricia Clark to brighten up the halls with her cheery mood. He gave a thin smile to her as he dropped off the parcel at Burgess' desk and nodded at her when she greeted, raising his eyebrows to her as she announced the special occasion. Intern... Oh... greeeeat... More of them.

Interns were department-wide--no, agency-wide appointments, filling various positions. What that meant to Callaway? More liabilities, more bodies in the building to account for and more new faces to get used to. He'd try to remember names but probably wouldn't interact with too many of them aside from the initial greeting and introductions, but the plus side was? Free labor. "Ah... Sounds like fun." He responded dryly, stopping briefly in case she had anything more to tell him.

(edited last post for timing/context for Callaway's new position.)
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by: Orion Burgess
#17283
Orion's gold eyed flicked up at the new director when he delivered a parcel to his desk. By the looks of the writing on the address, it was from the resistance group that he had been creating tentative contacts with. Nobody really knew about Orion's extracurricular activities. He was in contact with Matt and Cora, for example. He still had ties to the Syndicate. He was reaching out to someone that he was pretty sure was the order. He was a busy, nosy little cat that kept his outside-of-work-life private and separate from his work. And Merlin, what work he had today. He needed to create study packets for the department wizards, write a report on how the training was going, request a practice space for spells and the like, and spreadsheets. He needed to learn spreadsheets. Why? He wasn't sure. It was a very muggle thing and it seemed important to Hilde in the Pit that he learn how to use what she called the 'micro-soft office sweet.' Why muggles created a small, pleasing textured candy for office use only was beyond him. How it involved spreadsheets was still a mystery as well.

"Thank you, Director. Good morning, Doctor. Would you like any tea or coffee this morning?" He made his general offer to the pair as always. Dr. Clark took him up, so he conjured a cup of her favorite chai for her. He then conjured a peppermint for himself. He raised his eyebrow to Callaway with a grin, then turned back to the package. He opened the package and found a disc in its clear plastic case. Without thinking anything of it, he put it into the disc drive of his computer and started the media file playing.

Matt. Oh. Oh, Merlin, this was the preamble to that terrible, terrible...oh.

"Ughh...what...what time...?"

"Five past two."

"Thanks, Jon...sorry...sorry for dropping in unannounced..."


He looked like hell. The wound on the side of his head was cleaned and stitched, not the busted thing Orion had seen. A patch of raw skin showed on his chest. Orion's trained eye saw bruises on Matt's face and hands, a stiffness in his gait as he sat down, and an exhaustion that didn't seem to be sleeplessness.
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by: Cole Callaway
#17703
"Sure. Coffee would be nice, thanks." He thought he might pass today, but given the dryness of the bagel he was consuming, whatever deliciousness Burgess could whip up would help wash it down. However, his mind wouldn't be on the warm cuppa joe if it was conjured in front of him--no. The disc that Orion revealed caught his eye and the media that started on it was deeply concerning.

Narrowing his eyes, Callaway leaned in and looked closer. Bloody...freaking...hell. It was Matt, and he had truly seen better days. Someone had put him through the ringer, and then some, and there was an unfamiliar voice on the backside of the camera. Someone who knew him, it sounded like, by the way he was talking. Was this an interrogation? Did the man behind the lens do this to him? Who sent this to Orion? There were so many questions stirring in the Director's mind, as he stayed quiet, and listened.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here. Devil."

Cal's heart sunk to the pit of his stomach and he softly gasped. Whoever the mystery man was knew Matt's vigilante persona, and the venom behind his tone meant this wasn't going to go in Matt's favor. He gulped. What had he done? He hoped the former agent would have stayed out of trouble since they talked last, but the wounds on him, still fresh though seemingly nursed said otherwise. Callaway knew Matt was a fighter, and whoever he'd gone toe-to-toe with did a number on him. "Shit." Callaway uttered under his breath, though it was fairly audible for his current company.

"I...Jon, what...? I just...I needed help from a friend. I don't...don't have many of those left..."

Jon. That was the man's name. Jon had been mentioned twice, but it wasn't until the 2nd time that Cole caught it and he mentally made a note to search for someone named Jon in the network--even if it wasn't much of a clue. It was such a common name, but he hoped that he'd gather a location, surname or even a face, if 'Jon' happened to stand in front of the camera at some point.

Jesus, Matt... What have you done? It wasn't that Cal blamed him for any of this. In fact, the ill feeling in his gut was mostly comprised of the consequences that were to fall from this--especially if Matt managed to die from all of this stuff he'd been stirring not only as an agent but as his vigilante counterpart. God, he didn't want any of that, he just wanted to make sure he made it out of this alive.
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by: Orion Burgess
#18204
Orion knew how this story ended, and it wasn't happy. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Matt go from point A to point B, but Cole and Doctor Clark probably needed to see it. Well, he'd do what he did best and observe, then. Orion didn't take his eyes off the screen as he flicked his wand, summoning the coffee for Cole. The conversation between Matt and Jon was taking place in a sitting room. A coffee table stood between the two men, empty save for two water glasses and a newspaper.

Two glasses. Had Jon anticipated Matt coming down? If that was the case, the odds were high for the water to be a vehicle for veritaserum. If THAT was the case, then perhaps this video was a forced confession of sorts...The conversation on screen continued, twisting the wizard's stomach in anxiety for his friend.

"They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions...but I'm curious to know...What are yours?"

Despite his courage and bravado, Matt flinched and looked scared when a vicious looking dagger was dropped on the table between the speakers. Orion's knot of anxiety tightened at his friend's expression. That was the reaction of a man who had something to fear. What scared the Devil of London? Despite his fear, Matt stayed put and answered gamely.

"Survival, Jon. I didn't want to die, and I trust you. Was I wrong in thinking I could lean on our friendship when I was in trouble?"

"Friend. You've come to me a few times now, part-dead, half-dead, whatever. Come in off the streets you're supposed to keep safe, and I stitch you up and you're on your way. That's not a friend. That's a service. If you're looking for someone to talk to? I'm not that kind of doctor. How long have you been acquainted with someone
like me, old friend? Hm?"

Matt froze for a moment and then blanched at a realization. The look of worry and submissive fear was so odd to see on the agent. He had been almost fearless, and now he was shrinking like he was scared of getting punished.

"A m-m-month. But the Dark Lady is dead, Jon! And s-service? If I kn-new you f-felt that way, I'd have st-t-opped doing extra n-neighb-borhood watches here. Or g-gone somewhere else..."

Orion sat up when Matt leaned and reached for the water. "..no, no no! That's a trap, Matt!"

But talking to the computer screen couldn't change what had happened. Matt drank the water and swooned, confirming Orion's fears.
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