Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2014 16:02:11 GMT -5
Terrance's day had began as something promising, possibly with something worth doing, but it soon became apparent that he'd spend another day in his office, staring at files about disappearances and the like. He'd arrived early, dressed up just like anyone else at the Ministry, using the floo network rather than one of the enchanted telephone boxes that he usually used. Since everything began going to hell, he'd found himself too paranoid to stand in the box, right out where any Dark Wizard could take a shot at him. Death wasn't what he feared, it was the Imperius or Cruciatus Curse that worried him. He wouldn't talk under torture, it was the concept of unimaginable pain that motivated him to stay cautious, but it bothered him to imagine being used against his allies. Yes, that concept was truly horrifying. He never much liked travelling by floo powder, some people were too rude to properly clean their fireplaces out, and he'd found himself, more than once, standing in piles of ash. Thankfully the Ministry only had their fireplaces in place for the specific use of travel, not warmth.
Terrance had then made short work of his trip to his office, though the usual morning hustle of witches and wizards did it's job to slow his progress, and he did need to slip in and out of groups of people talking about an assortment of topics. All of it was little interest to him and once he reached the refuge of his office, he swiftly drew his wand and gave it a, immediately closing the curtains of his office and lighting all the lights in unison. And there it was, his pile of folders. He stepped toward his desk slowly, not once in recent days has opening any of these yellow or grey or brown, any color really, ever made him feel better about the situation. Never. And so he simply snatched the top file off the pile and opened it, within, finding another report on a missing witch, apparently people heard something but found nothing when they went to find out what was the something. He backed away from his desk, keeping the file in hand as he opened his door, and stepped out of his office, tucking his wand away. Just arrived and already feeling like he'd just spend another day in his office going over files that described disappearances that would, likely, never be solved.
But, just then, he was called upon, and his sharp gaze shifted from his folder and to a man who approached rapidly, asking if he had any spare time. Once again retrieving his wand, he sent the file back into his office, and put out the lights. "Absolutely. Anything is better than sitting in my office, brooding unsolvable disappearances.", he said in a quiet tone. "And, forget the Mister, part. My name is Terrance, it's nice to officially meet you.", by which he meant he knew of this man, but didn't know him very well, just his name and profession. From what he'd heard of Cain Edge, he was good at what he did, and had one incident where he had personal experience with the Dark Arts. Heroic and unforgettable to those who'd witnessed the incident or, in Terry's case, read about it. The Killing Curse had been used for many things, intimidation, threats, murder, but that was the first time he'd ever read of the Killing Curse being used to save someone. "Shall we?"
Terrance had then made short work of his trip to his office, though the usual morning hustle of witches and wizards did it's job to slow his progress, and he did need to slip in and out of groups of people talking about an assortment of topics. All of it was little interest to him and once he reached the refuge of his office, he swiftly drew his wand and gave it a, immediately closing the curtains of his office and lighting all the lights in unison. And there it was, his pile of folders. He stepped toward his desk slowly, not once in recent days has opening any of these yellow or grey or brown, any color really, ever made him feel better about the situation. Never. And so he simply snatched the top file off the pile and opened it, within, finding another report on a missing witch, apparently people heard something but found nothing when they went to find out what was the something. He backed away from his desk, keeping the file in hand as he opened his door, and stepped out of his office, tucking his wand away. Just arrived and already feeling like he'd just spend another day in his office going over files that described disappearances that would, likely, never be solved.
But, just then, he was called upon, and his sharp gaze shifted from his folder and to a man who approached rapidly, asking if he had any spare time. Once again retrieving his wand, he sent the file back into his office, and put out the lights. "Absolutely. Anything is better than sitting in my office, brooding unsolvable disappearances.", he said in a quiet tone. "And, forget the Mister, part. My name is Terrance, it's nice to officially meet you.", by which he meant he knew of this man, but didn't know him very well, just his name and profession. From what he'd heard of Cain Edge, he was good at what he did, and had one incident where he had personal experience with the Dark Arts. Heroic and unforgettable to those who'd witnessed the incident or, in Terry's case, read about it. The Killing Curse had been used for many things, intimidation, threats, murder, but that was the first time he'd ever read of the Killing Curse being used to save someone. "Shall we?"