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 Posted: Wed Jan 26, 2011 8:40 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 26, 2011 8:42 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2013 6:52 pm
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Cara Jane League
[Former Slytherin wife of Dr. Sinclair Alfred-Jon League]
Wand: Springy and Decorated Shaft//9 inches//Elm//Fairy Hair Wearing: Ready for Business
Cara used a crutch to situate herself down the hall and into her office. Her husband would probably throw a fit knowing that she was going to work, especially considering that it had not been long since the injury that had caused her to lose her leg. Hell, she didn't even have the first fitting for the prosthetic leg, though she did have an appointment with one of the best muggle doctors in prosthetics that afternoon she would be attending.
However, due to the recent events, it was precisely why she felt she needed to have her presence in the office. With the chaos that had occurred at the Fall Festival it wasn't unlikely that some witch or wizard wouldn't do something stupid that would leave her office with the responsibility of cleaning up the mess if muggles got involved.
She sighed as she glanced over at the picture of most of her immediate family on her desk. There was a picture of her husband teaching her son, David, now a first year Ravenclaw in Hogwarts, how to read. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, praying that her worst fears would be wrong and it would be quiet. While she was skilled with obliviate and she trusted her department to use the spell she rather it not come to that and wizard and witches merely use common sense.
After a few hours passing she realized she would have to leave for her appointment and left with a few acknowledgments, surprised that nothing of pressing importance had crossed her desk when she had shown up. It actually was quite a relief to Cara.
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Posted: Sun Jan 12, 2014 10:16 am
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Cara Jane League
[Former Slytherin wife of Dr. Sinclair Alfred-Jon League]
Wand: Springy and Decorated Shaft//9 inches//Elm//Fairy Hair Wearing: Professional
The months had passed since the Fall Festival and her injury, Cara had been fitted for a couple prosthetic legs, one that allowed her to wear her typical heels which she wore today, and after months of physical therapy she could say walking felt almost normal for her. And there were benefits to the injury. Her husband and her were getting along far better and it gave her a fail safe excuse to avoid seeing the family for the Holidays which made Sinclair and David happier.
She was a bit concerned about David, especially since he came back and barricaded himself in his room, not really wanting to talk about his year and by all appearances didn't seem to make friends. Of course before Hogwarts he wasn't one to make friends either. It was Catie or Cathaline, the daughter she couldn't mention at work, that was good with people and making friends. She flipped through various paperwork, it was generally a quiet day, and she was thankful for it. She was always thankful for it.
Glancing up from her desk she looked at the others in the office. She knew in many ways her NEWT and OWL grades weren't as high as some of her subordinates and she was younger than some. She could have done better academically, but she had been lazy in school or so her friend Acacia always said. And the claim had some merits. But, Cara was naturally skilled in two things that fit in the department-she was excellent in charms and blending in with muggles came second nature to her. After all, she lived around Muggles and interacted with them consistently she knew how to appear normal something she felt others lacked the ability to do. Cara knew how to play the role of middle class or upperclass without eccentricities. After all, her husband, a Squib had thought she was a Muggle secretary till after they got married.
She sighed as she glanced across the room and noticed Lysander Tempest. Old Family and wealthy, just as her family was. Pure blood elitist too. She knew he didn't entirely care for her. After all she did marry a squib and made it no secret. She did get a promotion being at least on paper less qualified and younger. In some ways she always wondered why he even chose the Obliviator Office to work as technically their objective wasn't just to protect the wizarding world but also the muggle world and help muggles. He definitely didn't strike her as the type to have a soft spot for Muggles. Of course, considering the rumors surrounding her family if it wasn't for the fact she lived among Muggles her loyalties might be questioned more too.
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Posted: Sun Jan 12, 2014 4:10 pm
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Lysandar is...spacespacespacespace CURRENTLY // Looking Imposing at the Officespace
CURRENTLY // single // widowedspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Caraspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Annoyedspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'What;s the point of being in this office if no one's going to make us useful?' spacespac ❖ ❖ ❖ 'And you might say it's self-indulgent,
you might say its self-destructive.' ❖ ❖ ❖ ═════════════════════════════════
spaceLysandar bit back an aggravated sigh as he glanced at the clock. All day, and nothing. Not a single call. What was wrong with wizards? They'd gotten far too cautious of late with their magic, clearly. He felt like it'd been ages since anything interesting had happened... he didn't even have to work. His family was wealthy; he worked for lack of anything better to do. But, if things were really going to be so damned slow all the time... hell, he might as well stay home. Callidora had returned, she'd be fun to torment... Not to mention the fun he could have with that useless Squib his brother called a son. Of course, the boy tended to avoid him... and for good reason. But Lysandar couldn't help but think it'd been far too long since he'd last thrown the boy across a room.
spaceHe glanced across the office at his... boss. As always, recognition of his subordination under her made his skin crawl. She wasn't worthy... her grades had been subpar, her age showed a lack of experience... the only reason she'd gotten the promotion was because she'd managed to trick her husband into thinking she was a muggle for years before she'd married him. Because... her husband was a Squib. That, too, made his skin crawl. That she had thought a disgusting Squib was a worthy enough match to engage in such a ruse... it was insulting, really, to every eligible, pureblooded wizard male. Not that Lysandar had been eligible at the time of her marriage. His wife had only passed a few years ago... he did miss her, at times. If ever he'd been capable of feeling affection, it had all been for her... since her death, he'd taken a shine to his granddaughter, Persephone. The little flower was probably the only thing his son had to be proud of. Simpering and quiet, a perfect servant and nothing more. At least he served his father well, though. It was more than Lysandar could say for Nikolas and his offspring.
spaceHe glanced at Cara again. It really was a shame. She was quite lovely, after all. Beautiful, in an old world sort of way, which of course was the best way to be beautiful in. He did hope her superior genes won out with their children... being the son of a Squib could surely make one a subpar wizard, after all. And they were young, still. They could have more children, if they wished, unless there were circumstances he wasn't aware of. There was a chance any remaining children they had.... would be Squibs. How utterly wasteful. Such excellent breeding, wasted. Still, she was his superior. He had to be polite, and never let her know what a complete mess he felt she'd made of her life. So, he offered a gentle smile. He was good at acting... always had been. He'd charmed almost everyone he'd ever met, never letting on the secrets that he hid behind his eyes... the dark, twisted imaginings, the cruel tortures he delighted in. Were it another era, his secret wouldn't be so secret; as it was... well, it was better no one knew. Better for him, anyway, which was really the only sort of better he cared about. "Do you suppose people are getting smarter about where they use their magic, or just learning to perform the memory charms themselves to avoid getting into trouble?" he asked her, his tone pleasant, curious. Really, if people were, in fact, getting smarter... well, that annoyed him to no end. But if they were learning their own memory charms, which he doubted, since such spells were tricky even when done by an expert, well... they'd be out of a job. The entire reason their department existed was because of the fact that most wizards couldn't properly perform a memory charm. They could manage it, sure, but they almost always broke something, or left some trace. Lysandar had never had that problem. When you had such... odd hobbies as he did, it was best no one could remember if they caught you, after all.
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❖ ❖ ❖ 'But, you see, it's more productive
than if i were to be healthy.' ❖ ❖ ❖
 (( OOC: )) ... |
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Posted: Sun Jan 12, 2014 7:18 pm
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Posted: Sun Jan 12, 2014 8:20 pm
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Lysandar is...spacespacespacespace CURRENTLY // Looking Imposing at the Officespace
CURRENTLY // single // widowedspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Caraspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Annoyedspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'What;s the point of being in this office if no one's going to make us useful?' spacespac ❖ ❖ ❖ 'And you might say it's self-indulgent,
you might say its self-destructive.' ❖ ❖ ❖ ═════════════════════════════════
spaceLysandar shrugged, his expression amused. Was she making a statement towards him? But then, even if she knew his family, she shouldn't know how very deeply he personally despised muggles. His parents had been quiet elitists, content to merely look down their nose and say nothing so long as no one attempted to sully their own name or standing. Lysandar, though... he hated them. Perhaps he'd just been born twisted, but he'd taken his parents purist leanings and ran with them. Half the reason he'd learned to cast such charms as the Memory Charm was so that his own little crimes wouldn't be discovered... he'd spent ages perfecting the skill. "Quite true. Although, I wasn't really referring to elitists. More to the trend of young witches and wizards who made mistakes. Given how those used to comprise the majority of our calls... it seems odd that they've grown so uncommon of late." Lysandar actually grew quite annoyed at those who held similar ideals to his own that they were called to clean up after. If he'd spent so long ensuring that he could handle his own problems, they could as well. Anyone with the breeding to be offended by muggles to the point of harming them in any way should be skilled enough to take care of their own mess. Fools... They sullied their own name with their moronic actions. Names which typically should mean something.
spaceAt the idea that they'd be called to take care of muggles with memory problems, he shook his head, barely keeping from snorting at the idea. "I find that doubtful. In cases where the charm was thoroughly botched, perhaps, but a Muggle with a memory problem? A gap or some inconsistency? No. They'd probably not even say anything, and if they did, it would be to a doctor. Too worried people would think they were crazy; humans are prideful creatures, after all. And unless the doctor were, like your husband, a part of a magical circle, he'd not think anything of it, beyond that his patient had gotten hit on the head or had too much to drink. He might run tests, try to recreate the events... but it's doubtful enough would come to light that we'd be informed." Muggles, of course, didn't deserve the pride they carried, but it didn't seem to stop them. Of course, in their ignorance, they didn't know they were literally surrounded by superiors everyday... so he supposed he could excuse them for that one fault. As for anyone from their office being informed afterwards... an unskilled witch or wizard performing a memory charm would, if the spell took enough that they weren't called immediately, merely leave the muggle with missing time, blank spots. Or perhaps, if they were skilled enough to at least attempt to insert replacement memories, the memory might seem wrong, off. Bits of the truth might come to light. But not enough that they'd think it had really happened.
spaceAt her invitation for tea or coffee, he smiled. Really, if she weren't married, he'd find her charming. As it was... she'd wasted her blood, and her talent, likely. She could've found herself a powerful man to marry and used him to get her way in all things. But, alas, she'd married a Squib and taken her own career... the latter, he supposed, was admirable, but again, a waste. "I despise 'talking shop' at home. My father pesters me with questions he could never understand the answers to, and my mother tries to turn it into a gossip fest. As if I don't have better things to do... but then, a conversation with someone who understands would be an entirely different story, of course. I was, however, merely trying to do something to snuff out the insufferable silence. If not for the risk that we'd be needed the moment we were away, I'd request to go home. Today's been quite boring, after all." Christ, they didn't even have paperwork to fill out. All that there was to do was filing, rechecking, and more filing. He hadn't joined the office to be a glorified secretary, after all. That, too, was a waste. As it would be to take her out for a drink, even if it were just tea. She was quite dedicated to her husband, for whatever reason, so there was no chance of a liaison. They could talk just as easily here as there, and the idea of sharing such a thing with her was not appealing to him.
spaceExcept, of course, that she was his boss... perhaps it would be wise to wine and dine? Should she leave, she would select her replacement, after all. "I do believe it's a bit late for coffee. Not so far past the usual time for tea, though... although I haven't the slightest idea where to go for such a thing. I'm not very social, I'm afraid." This was said with a light laugh. It was true... mostly because he didn't care to associate with filth, and one never knew what the lineage of a stranger would turn out to be. He did attend the boring parties and such that the family was invited to, but only to keep up appearances. The last time he'd been out of the house and gone to Diagon Alley, or anywhere like it... he couldn't even recall, actually.
═════════════════════════════════
❖ ❖ ❖ 'But, you see, it's more productive
than if i were to be healthy.' ❖ ❖ ❖
(( OOC: )) ...
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Posted: Mon Jan 13, 2014 11:36 am
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Cara Jane League
[Former Slytherin wife of Dr. Sinclair Alfred-Jon League]
Wand: Springy and Decorated Shaft//9 inches//Elm//Fairy Hair Wearing: Professional
"Ah you mean children, then," She said with a smile, hard to read whether it was truly genuine or something she had merely been trained to do. "I would merely say that wizarding families are precautioning their children better. The only problems would then be the muggleborn who unfortunately are not aware of their abilities till the Hogwarts letter comes or a large incident occurs. Besides, I feel Muggles are becoming more accepting of the unexplained in their own way. Some calls we may have been called out to before we don't need to now merely because Muggles haven't gotten more accepting and creative."
She held her smile, "And muggle doctors tend to take memory problems quite seriously. My husband is actually a surgeon and doesn't deal with the sort of thing that would involve in memory problems but he does know a former classmate or two who are experts of the field and also general doctors. Problems of the mind aren't the type to be casually dismissed."
Standing she said with a bit of a challenge in her voice, "That is the problem, people and society, both muggle and wizarding constantly is changing. I have immersed myself in both and that gives me a distinct advantage. Book learning, when it comes to people-muggle or wizard-, can only go so far. I suppose it may be late for coffee, though I used to meet my husband at a coffee shop around this time every day before we started dating, but then again we were younger and he held odder hours. I'm more familiar with Muggle restaurants of London and perhaps it would be a good excursion for you to mingle with those who have nothing to do with the wizarding society?"
"Maybe something simple? My husband mentioned he had an emergency meeting after work today," She said. "There is the Luchino Caffe on Tottenham Court Road if you like Italian or good hot chocolate, though, we are a bit overdressed, I would say it is better to be overdressed than underdressed for anything. I have been there enough times."
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 5:46 pm
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Lysandar is...spacespacespacespace CURRENTLY // Looking Imposing at the Officespace
CURRENTLY // single // widowedspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Caraspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Annoyedspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'What;s the point of being in this office if no one's going to make us useful?' spacespac ❖ ❖ ❖ 'And you might say it's self-indulgent,
you might say its self-destructive.' ❖ ❖ ❖ ═════════════════════════════════
spaceLysandar fought the urge to argue with her over it. She was an idiot; if she'd spent any time really paying attention to muggles, she'd know that memory problems, while serious, were common among them. It was highly unlikely that any muggle who went to a doctor for a displaced or muddled memory would say anything to arouse suspicion. The longer it had been since the incident, the more chance there was that the muggle in question would have simple explained it away. Decided the strange thing they saw had been a dream. If the memory were merely missing, they'd attest it to a memory problem. If it only happened once, they were unlikely to seek any care. Pride, again. Besides that, if she thought that they were going to get called in concerning anything so long after the fact, she had no idea what they did in this department... which was pathetic, since she was supposed to be its head. Pathetic. Obliviators existed to be summoned in extreme cases; a muggle saw a dragon and it had been to close to convince himself it was a bird. They didn't police botched memory charms; the policed memories that needed erasing or altering, nothing more. Were she not his superior, he'd have something to say to her... as it was, he merely smiled. "Quite true. It's merely that, as I've noticed, the chances of anything seeming odd enough that it would attract Ministry notice are slim. It's not as though we would know to watch the muggle in question; if we did, then we would have been the one to cast the spell in the first place. A muggle who went to his doctor for a memory issue would be studied, looked at and perhaps medicated... but the doctor would never think magic was at work. And the muggle wouldn't, either. And if the event he'd had removed had been small enough that we weren't immediately summoned, we'd have never even known about it."
spaceEqually troubling was her idea that muggles were more accepting of magic. What did she mean by accepting? That when they saw something small, it was easier for them to describe it as a trick of the light? That wasn't acceptance, it was denial and pride. Or, was she saying that muggles were more likely to accept magic on a literal level? If so, she was equally foolish. Marriages broken apart by the revelation that one was magical, parents who couldn't handle their receiving a Hogwarts letter; stories abounded. The only case in which he could say that Muggles were more accepting was that, if they did discover the existence of witches and wizards, he doubted they'd be burned at the stake... although that was a small consolation given that they'd face a lethal injection instead. So it wasn't so much acceptance as it was being too 'civilized' to burn a person to death. Lysandar knew that muggles would never accept wizards. Wizards were their superiors, and humans could never accept that others were better than them. They would fear them, reject them... unless, of course, the wizards did what they should and turned them into slaves. Then, the muggles would fear them... and serve them. Hate them, assuredly, but then, if the whole of wizardkind were in on it, of course it wouldn't matter. The trouble was people like her, who accepted muggles as their equals... idiots.
spaceHe fought not to argue with her. Her so-called immersion had clearly left her with a distinct soft spot for muggles, which blinded her to the truth of them. Book learning was unbiased and fair; it allowed you to see the truth of what was happening and form true opinions. But when you went out, spoke to people... it opened you up for emotional responses, which could never be trusted. The distance she spoke of between book learning and hands on experience was one of feeling; of idiotic attachment. Of course, she wouldn't see it. She was attached. Biased. Her mistake had warped her. Again, he noted what a shame it was...
spaceHe was unsurprised when she invited him for tea in muggle London, and completely offended by her not-even-subtle attempt to imply that he was inferior to her because of his choice to abstain from muggle society... or her assumption that he had made such a choice. "I said I wasn't very social. Not that I don't go out into the world," he said, some of his ire finally cracking through the surface. It was one thing to have a different opinion of how the world worked. It was something entirely different to discredit his life and the way he had formed that opinion. "I spend plenty of time observing muggle society. I merely abstain from interactions. I much prefer to see them interact with each other... I find that it's a truer glimpse at their lives than if I were to speak with them. If I converse with a muggle, I am imposing my own existence onto them, whether they know it or not. Even if I were to behave as a muggle, the fact is that I am not one, and so, no matter how cleverly I could mimic them, I will never be able to have a truly muggle experience. My mind, my actions and choices, were shaped by wizarding society; I can't act without that influence showing, at least to me. Even if they are unaware, the fact remains that my interactions with them are technically not truly muggle in nature; it is a false view of their lives." This, at least, he believed to be entirely true. His status as a wizard was deeply entrenched in him; no matter how well he pretended to be a muggle when he spoke with one, he could never be that muggle. And so, he had no way of knowing if, in fact, his interactions were legitimate. To imply that simply because he was unsociable that he had no experience was outright insulting; she hadn't even tried to hide it. Flouting her superiority over him when in fact she had none, except in title. A crack appeared in his mind; where before he had pitied her, been reviled by her, the seed of hatred took root. She was not even enough of a proper witch to know how to choose her words. Muggles were crass; their ideas of propriety were dulled. It had dulled her own ability to interact, clearly, if she truly thought such a statement was even a subtle jab and not the outright insult it had been.
spaceAs for the invitation, now he just wanted to get out of the office. Even if it did mean he would be dining with her... he could handle it. After all, her company was at least preferable to the muggles. He found he rather liked eating in muggle restaurants, though. It forced muggles to serve him, as was proper. He liked thinking of them in their proper place. And he did rather like Italian. "That sounds excellent, actually. Italian is always good for a quick meal. I find it to be very filling." His expression grew contemplative. "And I do believe you are quite right; being overdressed is far preferable. After all, better to look as though you've put in more effort than necessary than less. It is a sign of person who takes great care, after all." He rose and approached her, offering a slight bow and a smile, his demeanor pleasant, sociable. He might not like to spend time with people, but that didn't mean his skills were rusty. In fact, the very reason that he hated to spend time with others was because of how often he was forced to attend those ridiculous society parties with his parents. It would only get worse now that Callidora was home... she'd already expressed the desire to attend any and everything, and required an escort, as per his father's orders. Damned woman... he hated her. He extended his arm to Cara. "Shall we?" He waited for her to take it, curious about one thing... how would she like to travel? To apparate to their desired location, or would she insist on taking some form of muggle transport? How deeply did she expect him to immerse himself?
═════════════════════════════════
❖ ❖ ❖ 'But, you see, it's more productive
than if i were to be healthy.' ❖ ❖ ❖
(( OOC: )) ...
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 6:27 pm
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Cara Jane League
[Former Slytherin wife of Dr. Sinclair Alfred-Jon League]
Wand: Springy and Decorated Shaft//9 inches//Elm//Fairy Hair Wearing: Professional
Cara raised a brow as Lysander spoke she could sense at some points his distaste for her, then again it was logical before regardless of what he felt about muggle society, and she had directly challenged his proficiency. As she got older she felt less of a need to hide or manipulate words or say one thing when she meant another. Maybe her husband was right and she wasn't as natural of a Slytherin as the rest of her family or her son liked to believe. She smiled politely and said, "I admit I am not an expert on muggle medicine, nor do I have the interest in it. Doctors wouldn't think magic is at work, but they aren't quick to dismiss memory problems anymore either. Muggle society are apt to sue, so muggle doctors tend to be overly cautious. As a result various tests would be run. If you want the details of that sort of thing you would have to ask my husband or perhaps my son... he had the interest in that sort of thing. If he hadn't been a wizard he would have went into medicine no doubt. As it is he displayed magical abilities quite early so we knew he would be a wizard-thus he has mentioned something about being a healer or mediwizard. He still would read his father's medical books in his free time though... I suppose he found them interesting enough."
She shrugged and continued, "And in regards to your belief in continuing to remain updated on muggle behavior you believe it is wiser to be the scientist-an outside observer- than try to be an ant? I find various muggle technology useful-such as cell phones- I must admit but I will agree there is some irritations in playing the ant in the fact you can't use your magic freely to solve simple problems. Growing up as I did, surrounded by magic, you can't escape it. Even my husband who works so hard to avoid the magical world and inundate himself into the Muggle world still can't fully escape the knowledge of knowing that even he is different."
"In regards to the cafe there is an exit from the ministry quite close and we can walk the block there," Cara said nodding to her artificial leg, which like her real leg was covered in black tights. The incident of her injury was public enough, though, especially considering her injury was reported on in the Daily Prophet after the Fall Festival. "It seems a waste to take a cab for such a short distance and I haven't spent months in physical therapists spending thousands of pounds not to be able to walk such a short distance."
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Posted: Fri Mar 07, 2014 6:20 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 08, 2014 10:40 am
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Cara Jane League
Head Obliviator
Wife to Dr. Sinclair Alfred-Jon League
Former Slyterin
Cara sat at her desk going through paperwork, reviewing the typical incident reports. The obliviators were all well trained in her opinion, excellent in their jobs, talented at memory charms and could blend in appropriately and understood the muggle world proficiently. She really had no reason to complain. In many ways she felt insufficient to be the Head of the office considering there were so many talented witches and wizards also in the office, but then again she had been in the office since she graduated Hogwarts and her natural talent was only charms and she did live her outside life in the Muggle world. Maybe that's what got her the position in the end. She felt rather content going through documents, happy with the success of her office, when suddenly she felt a cold sweat trickle down the back of her neck, a heaviness in her heart. The room was chilling and she glanced up to see a shadow-something she had heard mentioned enough-and never expected to see, especially in the ministry... a dementor.
She cursed the fact that she never had a knack for defense against the dark arts-receiving only an A on her OWLs and never taking it during her NEWT years- nor had she bothered putting much time into trying to get much better at the subject. To fight a dementor you needed a patronous, problem was she knew for a fact she wasn't likely to produce a corporeal patronous. Focusing on the memory of first seeing her husband again, one of her happiest memories, what had given her the opportunity to build the family she treasured so much now she declared, "Expecto Patronum!" A thick silvery mist formed as a slight buffer between her and the dementor and she turned and snapped to anyone in the general vicinity her voice shaking, "Someone contact other offices and see what is going on!"
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