Post by Leseur Follet on Dec 23, 2009 3:10:07 GMT -5
Traveling through the snow and wind, Leseur Follet reached City Hall at around noon. Dressed professionally, he wore his teacher appropriate attire: Dress shirt and tie, business robes, shined shoes, and styled a neatly trimmed hair. His mission today was of the utmost importance to him and his family. It would take a lot of moxie to pull this one off.
Quick strides brought him up to the receptionist's desk. With a charming smile and a few flirtatious, yet subtle, remarks he questioned and prodded as to when might be the best time to speak with Mayor Mustang. She hinted at some time during that day, but when was the question. She said she'd send a message back and the mayor would meet with him when he had time.
The Frenchman thanked the kind receptionist in his seductive flowery accent and took a seat and waited to see if any other lycans might arrive for the meeting with the Mayor. He hadn't made an appointment, but his point needed to be heard and asking for an appointment might take longer than was acceptable. So there the Frenchman waited and every so often threw sly looks over toward the receptionist as she worked.
Willow sat in a back alley, debating on whether to shift back or not. The Mayor had spoken to her while she was covered in fur and eyes of silver. Then again, the only reason she hadn't come to the floor as a human because that would be going completely public. People she knew had been there, Phugsius had been there. Then, he had known both forms anyway. But there had been people she'd never met as a lycanthrope, only as a teenage witch, there.
Mustang was no big deal. She could be both forms infront of him, he would recognize her as a wolf. Surely her shape had been unforgettable, who many times had one seen a giant wolf? Leseur had gone in a few moments ago, and she had heard him talking through the wall. With a heavy sigh, she had shifted. Willow hadn't bothered to change clothes or anything. She was currently in muddy jeans, a gryffindor scarf and an old Winnie-the-Pooh shirt. Her robes were lined with some sort of silver fur, she hadn't bothered to guess at the original animal.
Cautiously, the lycan went to join her packmate. She gave him a weak smile. "Mustang and I have met. I like him. I want to help, Leseur."
The secretary was looking at the grungy teenager with suspiscion, but she didn't say anything. Thank the Lord. Willow lowered herself into the closest chair, hugging her knees to her chest and looking around cautiously. Her brown hair was loose, but thankfully she'd thought to brush it.
Watching her companion nervously, Willow picked at a stick-tight on her sleeve and waited. She could shift, or just tell Mustang who I was. "He won't recognize me. I was um...furry. Last time."
"But I'll tell him."
She flicked the stick-tight to the floor, earning a disapproving look from the secretary, who then magicked it away with a wave of her wand. There was a sharp tug on her hair and she realized there had been a twig, that the witch had also magicked away, along with a clump of her hair. Willow resisted the urge to bear her teeth and growl.
Post by Miles Landon on Dec 25, 2009 4:22:22 GMT -5
((sorry this is so late. they have been running me absolutely ragged at work lately. also slight god-modding))
(((Continued from "Mission Impossible: Find Marc a Job" btw)))
Miles Landon, newly minted head of the newly minted Special Cases Department, was on what he hoped he would look upon nostalgically as his first case. As opposed to, you know, his last. He was escorting a stubborn, up-his-own-ass vampire-like being named Edmund to see the Mayor. The guy was an asshole, but definitely dangerous. Bringing him to city hall to meet Jim was not a good idea, but it got him away from the kid at least. Marie could more than deal with any of the Church members who might show up. And Jim... well Jim was Jim. And Jim was something else.
Following them was Seth Reilly, an odd fellow who happened to be a werewolf. His oddity was nothing unusual, lycans mostly found werewolves to be odd anyways. At least Miles did. He wanted to see someone in charge, and why not? It was his civic right and whatnot. So Miles led these two to city hall. They entered the big double doors that opened on the main lobby. And found to his surprise two lycans already waiting. Willow and someone he didn't immediately recognize. But it hit him where he remembered him from. He had to fight to keep his face blank. He nodded and smiled at Willow, and spoke quickly with the receptionist.
"Hey, Denise. How's it going? Hizzoner in?" He gave an easy smile, but his body language spoke volumes. He was damned tense, and understandably so. There were too many variables in this equation now, and still no idea what was really going on. "He is not, Miles. He had a late night apparently, dealing with one thing or another. Should be in soon, though. But the Deputy is in right now."
"Hm. Thanks. Okay, Mr. Reilly. Do you think you will be content with seeing the Deputy? I can already tell Edmund here won't and will probably want to wait for the Mayor. Am I correct in my assumption?"
Seth had followed Miles and Edmond from the shop where he had bee reacquainted with Marc Streampaw, an odd lycan with more than enough problems on his shoulder. Marc, as far as Seth knew was being cased by some organization that hated lycans. Not really his concern and there where questions he wanted to ask Marc still but many of those questions where meant for a better time. But to speak with The mayor something he had been planning to do was more difficult than finding time to talk to Marc, which is why he took the chance to ask to tag along with this group.
Upon entering he saw two lycans waiting, both he knew both knew him and both knew that he wasn't suppose to be in town, not according to Fenrir, if either where still loyal to that murderous hound there might be trouble. His guard was now up. He acknowledged both with a simple glance.
Miles spoke up and asked if he could see the deputy instead of the mayor. Seth didn't know how good of an idea that was with the information he was about to disclose but he supposed that the deputy answered to the mayor, and that it shouldn't matter who he talked to. "I see no problem with speaking with the deputy."
Post by Alexan Vale on Dec 31, 2009 1:50:32 GMT -5
((sorry, i've still been a bit sidetracked. so here we go for seth. next post is for everyone else and it will be a James post. btw, the first couple of lines, though lazy, amuse me to no end. in fact, this whole post is pretty amusing ))
"Let me let him know he has a visitor." Denise pressed a button on a gleaming silver console in front of her. It was very much like an intercom in a Muggle office, except, you know, MAGIC. "Mr. Vale, you have a Mr. Reilly wishing to see you." A muffled Scottish accent replied "Tell him I'm busy." Denise, irritated, shot back in the most politely agressive voice possible, "But you're not, sir. You have no appointments today. I'd suggest you take him." One could almost sense Vale weighing his options. Continue doing nothing, as he had planned, for the rest of the day and piss off Denise, or talk to this guy for ten minutes and hopefully remain unmolested for the rest of the day.
Ten seconds later the door to an office off to the right of the group opened and there was Alexan Vale, wearing a very smart suit and straightening out his tie. "Hello there, Mister..." Denise chimed in, "Reilly." Alexan unfazed, "...Reilly!" He was unfortunately looking at Edmund. Denise was paying attention however and pointed to Seth. Alex corrected himself. "Please step into my office and let's see if we can't get you sorted out."
Last Edit: Dec 31, 2009 1:58:32 GMT -5 by Alexan Vale
Post by James "Mustang" Morrison on Jan 4, 2010 5:27:41 GMT -5
((Here we go. Is this thread considered dead though? Hope not.))
James hadn't slept well. He had a rough night. But not as rough as some. Last night, someone died. A student, by the evidence. In question was a dragonscale coat with Slytherin symbols on it. It was torn through the middle of the back, where a piece of wood had impaled the student. But what really did it was the fire. An elementalist's fire. Someone had taken a primal force of magic and used it for cold-blooded murder. And a young student to boot. Jim would not rest until justice had been done. James had dozed off over some paperwork prior to the incident, maybe getting an hour and a half of rest. Afterward, after finishing up coordinating the police and all he had gone straight home.
He had worked into the wee hours of the morning, trying every bit of magic he could think of or look up, but to no avail. He couldn't identify the killer or even the owner through the coat. It was a damned nuisance how resistant dragons were to magic, even dead. He decided he'd bring the coat in to the office and have Windwaltz come down and they'd work on identifying the owner. It would probably be quicker that way. He fell asleep at around 6:30 in the morning, and here he was at noon. He was wearing the clothes he'd slept in and they were incidentally the clothes he'd worn to work the previous day. Loose fitting black suit, white shirt, black tie. Thrown on over that, was his own brown dragonscale coat. He hadn't had a chance to shave and he reckoned he might just smell a bit smoky from the previous evening. He carried the torn coat draped over one arm as he trudged through the snow.
He walked into the office lobby just as Seth Reilly and Alexan were sitting down to their conference. He was hoping it would be a quiet day. Really he only wanted to call Windwaltz down there and maybe take a quick nap in the office waiting for him. But as he surveyed the gathered group of visitors, he knew today was going to be anything but quiet.
Post by Leseur Follet on Jan 4, 2010 16:41:33 GMT -5
After a short time Willow entered the hall. She was looking rather unkempt, as most lycans do. Leseur turned his head and smiled at the girl giving her a calming pat on the head. "There will be no need Willow. We're here to represent our kind in a polite and tasteful manner. Stating what we are would be, perhaps, a bit redundant." Noticing his companion flick a stick to the floor he gave her a momentary disapproving look, "You can play weeth your steecks aftear thee meeteeng".
He gave her a quick wink before a new, odd group of people entered. Sniffing the air it was... A werewolf, a lycan, and what smelled like undead flesh? He knew the werewolf as the annoying creature who had bothered him during an evening of drinking with Talon and Sylph. His face became rather stoic to avoid the sheer amount of disgust dealing with Seth might cause him.
The lycan in the group... he couldn't place where he might have scented this lycan before. He decided not to worry about it. Still remaining emotionless he sat eying each individual as he began to rehearse exactly what he wanted to say to the mayor. He had to appear together and intelligent in front of the mayor. It wouldn't do to stutter and grunt.
Just then a figure entered the room looking a bit worn down. His suit and cloak clearly spelled out "mayor", though, with his current appearance could have stood in for an unkempt teacher or lazy student. Standing up and looking into the eyes of the tired man Leseur stood up and extended his hand. "Good day, Monsieur, I am Leseur Follet and thees eez my friend Weellow."He waved his arm to gesture toward the younger lycan. "We are ere to talk to you about a rathear pearsonal mattear and ope we could talk about eet een a less public environmant" His eyes swiveled to those still remaining in the room excluding Willow and the mayor himself.
His scent caught Leseurs attention, it smelled strongly of smoky wood and burnt flesh. This unnerved the Frenchman for a quick moment. He thought he had caught another peculiar scent. The scent of a lycan, Roan Aliagh... It must have just been his imagination.
Last Edit: Feb 1, 2010 1:48:44 GMT -5 by Leseur Follet
Post by James "Mustang" Morrison on Jan 11, 2010 1:38:16 GMT -5
((i'm always apologizing for how terrible my posts are. how sad. but the muse was not really with me on this one.))
James was not ready to deal with people at all. But this was the position he found himself in and he would have to live up to it. He could feel a headache coming on, stemming perhaps from lack of sleep and lack of food. He guessed he hadn't eaten since 7pm yesterday. His stomach churned unhappily. "Um, yes. Yes. Miles, can your thing wait?" Just then he was assaulted mentally by what basically amounted to a packet of information. Marie's telepathic update let him know just what had happened Miles noticed this. "Yeah it can wait a bit more I think. Something tells me you're gonna want all other business out of the way."
James nodded to him. "Follow me you two." He opened the door to his office and hung up the torn coat carefully on a coat rack next. He wanted to be able to see it. The entry wound. He sat down behind his desk and motioned for Willow and Leseur to sit down as well. The door would shut behind them automatically. "Feel free to speak French* with me, M. Follet. I am fluent and I wouldn't want you to be unable to explain yourself properly."
((don't actually use french words. Jim is fluent, I am not. Just put brackets, like so: < > around anything that's meant to be in french.))
Post by Leseur Follet on Feb 15, 2010 1:29:56 GMT -5
(OOC: Since Willow has not posted I will continue. If you want to jump back in feel free. I'll assume Willow tags along.)
Following the mayor into his office, the Frenchman took a seat. Pulling a shiny silver leaf out of his breast pocket he held it up and sent a charming smile at the mayor before taking a small bite from it and returning it into his chest pocket. "That will not be necessary Mayor Mustang." The Frenchman's thick accent was now completely erased from his voice. "I have come prepared to make things as easy as possible for you. I would not want you to think I am so inconsiderate. We are ,after all, taking time out of your strenuous schedule. I know you must be busy and I will also do my best to make sure this as brief as possible."
Leseur Follet sat upright with his hands neatly folded in his lap with his legs crossed in a very sophisticated manner. Looking less than credible was out of the question. "Now then, Monsieur Mustang, I am here to discuss with you a very pressing matter. Lycans, My colleague, Willow, and I were both members of the Fenris pack, which resides in the woods, as you certainly know." He let a pause breach the atmosphere to let everything that was being said sink in. The lycan also took a moment to gather his thoughts.
A look of grave concern crossed the herbology professors face and his voice took on a serious tone, "However, very recently, there has been much turmoil amongst the pack. We have been split and from the looks of it we all may be lone wolves soon. This is not a good situation for anyone. Fenris Fenrir is losing control of the pack and slowly losing control of his mind. Possibly even more so than usual. He is demanding that we cut off ties to the wizarding world and perhaps make war against them."
Another pause ensued as the sharply dressed Frenchman collected his thoughts. "My concern is not about Fenrir. It is about my family, my pack. We are feared for our ferocity and our primal nature. We are seen as beasts and monsters who murder and eat humans for fun. I won't deny that some of us do. There are, however some of us with a bit of sense in our brains and the fear that you have of us, is also shared amongst our kind. We fear wizards and the simple spells they can cast to hinder us. The silver some can conjure at will. It is a mutual fear we share that causes our races to tear each other down."
Looking deeply into the eyes of the mayor the lycanthrope sat unmoving. His words had come with complete sincerity. "I feel that these mutual fears can be allayed over time. Violence cannot solve anything here. Why I am here today, is to ask you to put laws into effect. Laws that would make lycans and wizards equals. Laws that would serve to protect lycans from being hunted by groups like the Black Forest Church. Laws that would put the monsters of our race into prisons to suffer the same punishments of the wizards who commit equal atrocities. What I'm asking of you, Mayor Mustang, is a solution to the bloodshed. A solution to all the conflict between our two races."
Leseur Follet sat across from the mayor looking a bit more pensive and emotional than earlier. His eyes searched the mayor's face for a hint of understanding. An early answer to his request.
"And if it helps, I can tell you who that cape belongs to..." His eyes glanced over toward the cape which hung on the coat rack, covered in blood and pierced through the center.
Post by James "Mustang" Morrison on Mar 4, 2010 14:42:32 GMT -5
Leseur's sudden loss of his accent was...suspicious to say the least, but amusing as well. James listened to Follet, his initial exhaustion disappearing as he became focused on the troubling news about Fenrir. "War? He actually spoke of war? And not as an abstract? Does he actually have any plans? Damn. As I understand it, he was missing for some time. Could something have unhinged him? Further, I mean. Hrrm. This really needs looking into. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." He sat back in his chair. As for Leseur's other concerns, there was nothing to be done that wasn't already being done.
"On the subject of your requests... It's been in the process since the town meeting. I've declared Drakborough a haven for people like you. For those afflicted with lycanthropy. For those inflicted with the werewolf's curse. For natural-born lycans. For even vampires and noseferatu and any other sentient magical being. Only one rule applies. Follow the law. I expect no less of any citizen of Drakborough. That's equality. For now. The average citizen will of course have their own concerns, I have to think about them, too. So they need to get used to the idea. In the mean time, we chat up prominent community leaders, get them on our side, make it all easier when it comes time to pass the laws. Politics, unfortunately, is very much a tedious endeavor needing a great deal of patience."
"Luckily I was able to make an official sanction on Black Forest Church activities. Nobody bloody likes them anyways. I'm building an official Drakborough police force. I have Miles Landon running Special Cases. We're in good shape. But it's sort of a case of Federal Government vs State Government, if I may use an example from out west. California had legalized marijuana. There are legal, licensed marijuana dispensaries catering to people with prescriptions from legal, licensed doctors. But that didn't stop the DEA and other agencies from raiding these facilities. And that's where we find ourselves in regards to the BFC. But we still won't tolerate their raids and activities and thus my men will uphold the laws of Drakborough and hold back the Church from acting with impunity."
"I hope that helps, M. Follet. Now, please tell me of this cloak."
Post by Leseur Follet on Apr 18, 2010 22:19:22 GMT -5
(OOC: sorry about the massive delay.)
The Lycan heaved a frustrated sigh and a look of disappointment showed in his face. There was nothing he could do then. Anything that could be done was in the process of happening. Not only that, but now there was this student that had been murdered. The consequences were not going to be good for whoever happened to have boy's blood on their hands.
"Phugsius Charadus was his name. He was A Slytherin prefect.The boy had just received the cloak recently. I couldn't tell you where from. He was parading around bragging about it to anyone who listened and looked rather egotistical. I'm sorry, that's all I can possibly tell you about him, Monsieur Mustang."
The Frenchman stood up and gave a quick parting nod to the Mayor. A gentle tone entered his voice. "I thank you for your time, Mayor. If not for your time, than at least a listening ear." Giving the Mayor one last look, Leseur headed for the door.
Teagan Offline: This board is full of nostalgia.
Aug 22, 2020 8:39:09 GMT -5
Missing the old MH: gotta say missing when MH and all that was around.
Nov 6, 2019 0:02:30 GMT -5
Willow_lazy: why tf are there 400 posts about adidas
Sept 6, 2018 17:35:57 GMT -5
Azrael: I'm not hard to find, since I'm the only one there who goes by "Azzy", I'm pretty sure. XD
Feb 10, 2018 16:44:41 GMT -5
Azrael: Dunno if anyone still pops by here from time to time, but if any of you mofos do and still feel like gettin' yo nerd on, I've been hanging around this here place a bunch recently: www.roleplayerguild.com/
Feb 10, 2018 16:44:10 GMT -5
Azrael: hold onto your pantaloons
Jul 25, 2016 5:16:43 GMT -5