Post by Mordecai Caulfield on May 22, 2011 12:31:08 GMT -5
Mort Caulfield was having a bad morning. Unfortunately for the rest of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, that meant the division was as well. The Department had been bombarded with 'messes', crime scenes to clean up all around inner-city London; probably just some bloody pranksters, but they would have to send it along to Law Enforcement to check it out. But sending anything to Law Enforcement meant at least a week's worth of paperwork. The paperwork was Mort's job; he would take care of the offices, while he sent his Crisis Control Divisions out to clean up the mess.
"Morning, Mort," one of the interns -- he could never remember his name, but he tended to call him the Brown-nose -- greeted him brightly. Mort grunted, lifting his bowler hat slightly in greeting.
Mordecai took out his wand, tapping out the combination to open his office door. Clk. The doorknob came open and Mort twisted the knob, shouldering the door open as he did. He threw his jacket and bowler hat on a coatrack next to the door, sighing when he looked up. At least three dozen magical paper planes whizzed around his office. He waved his wand, the planes unfolding themselves and laying neatly on his desk. He scratched his head. Everything just felt off today. He smiled slightly when he realized what it was.
"Just need a cuppa'," He chuckled to himself, stowing his wand away and closing his office door behind him as he headed toward the office kitchen.
The office kitchen was empty; most of his employees tended to avoid him on messy days, especially first thing in the morning. Mort was decidedly not a morning person. He took his mug down from the office cupboard, a white mug with a painting of Dogs Playing Poker on it. He put the tea leaves at the bottom, grabbing for the teapot already on someone's Incendio fire they left behind for the rest of the office. How courteous. Mort tipped the teapot over. Nothing. Not a drop.
"Augh, what bloody boggart puts the kettle back on the fire without any bloody water in it?!" The Head grumbled to himself as he took out his wand, casting aguamenti on the pot before putting it back on the fire. Now he had to bloody wait for it to boil.
"Morning, Mort," one of the interns -- he could never remember his name, but he tended to call him the Brown-nose -- greeted him brightly. Mort grunted, lifting his bowler hat slightly in greeting.
Mordecai took out his wand, tapping out the combination to open his office door. Clk. The doorknob came open and Mort twisted the knob, shouldering the door open as he did. He threw his jacket and bowler hat on a coatrack next to the door, sighing when he looked up. At least three dozen magical paper planes whizzed around his office. He waved his wand, the planes unfolding themselves and laying neatly on his desk. He scratched his head. Everything just felt off today. He smiled slightly when he realized what it was.
"Just need a cuppa'," He chuckled to himself, stowing his wand away and closing his office door behind him as he headed toward the office kitchen.
The office kitchen was empty; most of his employees tended to avoid him on messy days, especially first thing in the morning. Mort was decidedly not a morning person. He took his mug down from the office cupboard, a white mug with a painting of Dogs Playing Poker on it. He put the tea leaves at the bottom, grabbing for the teapot already on someone's Incendio fire they left behind for the rest of the office. How courteous. Mort tipped the teapot over. Nothing. Not a drop.
"Augh, what bloody boggart puts the kettle back on the fire without any bloody water in it?!" The Head grumbled to himself as he took out his wand, casting aguamenti on the pot before putting it back on the fire. Now he had to bloody wait for it to boil.
