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Level Nine Department of Mysteries

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Old 06-03-2021, 04:43 AM
sweetpinkpixie sweetpinkpixie is offline
 
Default Office of the Department Head, Airey Flamsteed


Oval in shape, the office of the Department Head is, in one word, quite sterile. The walls are glistening white and the carpet resembles marble more so than fabric, giving off a ridiculously clean vibe. While he is not exactly obsessive compulsive about cleanliness, Department Head Airey Flamsteed highly values organization and keeps everything in a specific location. Needless to say, if one of his quills is at an odd angle ... he will notice. The cabinets above his desk are nearly invisible against the wall and are filled with all sorts of reference books and historical tomes collected himself. The surface of his desk is mostly empty except for some black screens whose use is unknown and a comfortable looking pillow where the man's pet rocks, Pebbles and Boulder, tend to rest. Beside this is a plant in a unique looking planter.

On the backside of the likewise pearly white door (the main door that is as there are many hidden along the walls here leading to the various Chambers and Rooms within the Department) are a few framed pieces of abstract line and paint splatter artwork that Professor Flamsteed has collected over the years along with a drawing given to him by a former student in a black frame just to the left of another drawing, this one signed, in another black frame. Above these two is yet another large gifted piece of artwork also in a black frame. There is a white sofa up against one of the walls with a pet bed on the floor beside it where Pebbles and Boulder sleep when not sharing the pillow on the desk. To the right of the white sofa and is a white closet where Professor Flamsteed keeps a few freshly pressed suits from his extensive collection, just in case, and to the left of this is a rather impressive looking tie display case. Located opposite of Flamsteed's desk is yet another clear display case, but this one is filled with all sorts of muggle science fiction models. Perhaps the most interesting feature this room boasts are the menagerie of floating magical holographic images - celestial bodies, numbers, equations, figures - whose gentle glow provide the room's lighting.

Access to this office is granted by speaking its name in the main circular rotating room serving as the Entry Chamber to the entire Department. While drop ins are always welcome, the Department Head is a very busy man and prefers that appointments be made prior.

Please read the thread description before posting here! This isn't strictly a public thread, but anyone is welcome to have their character knock on the door and assume they have passed through the Entry Chamber.
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Old 11-29-2021, 11:58 PM   #2 (permalink)
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David was.... here. He was showered, he was clean, he was bespectacled in his finest, thickest glasses, and he was, of course, present in a suit with a pocket square. Only the best to see the admiral, naturally. Only the best for the best.

Why did he get a lump in his throat when he thought that?

He cleared his throat as he wobbled out of the entry, shook out his lanky arms, and knocked thrice on the door. Think about marshmallows, was what he told himself instead. Think about the marshmallows. Happier times. Pre-mum's murder times. He could do this. He could.
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Old 11-30-2021, 09:14 AM   #3 (permalink)

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For the record, Airey Flamsteed was rather partial to marshmallows. Save for when small blonde hands were flailing sticks wielding flaming marshmallows that had the tendency to fling itself off said stick and to the cheek of another unassuming person.

Not that he (or anyone ELSE, for that matter) was speaking from experience on this subject.

Shuffling through some research he had received from Miss Darling regarding unusual oceanic activity hinting at dangerous levels of untapped magical activity. Something his former student and now pseudo aunt to his own children wanted to run by him before submitting it anywhere formally, he had been more than happy to oblige and had finished his other research requests in record time so he could afford this little bit of indulgence.

Or...perhaps not.

Looking up from his desk, the department head cleared his throat and pushed the documents back into their neatly labeled folder. "Enter!"

Ah, the little moments of feeling light a Starfleet captain.
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Old 12-04-2021, 01:31 AM   #4 (permalink)
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David entered, silently, shuffling a bit as he closed the door behind him with a little click. He drifted over to the Admiral's desk and cleared his throat, as though waiting for permission to speak, or sit, or to just exist without feeling.

....stupid something in his eye. He cleared his throat MORE loudly now and took off his glasses, giving them a sudden polish on his tie for some reason whilst he blinked the bits of tears away.

Airey had known Mum, see, been hired by her and everything.
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Old 12-07-2021, 02:22 AM   #5 (permalink)

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Oh.

He really needed to update his system to alert him to WHOM was on the other side of his door so he could mentally prepare and not have to do so on the turn of a sickle. Which was precisely what he was doing right now in the presence of the young Mr. Truebridge. It was jarring and he felt as though his skin must be breaking out in nervous hives. All unfairly so as it had less to do with his relationship with his former student and more...the young man's mother.

He could not imagine what he must be going through, not only the death of the woman but also...the side for which she gave her life to. He supposed he should have seen the signs (had that been why he had barely been able to string a series of full sentences together in her presence or why he often had the urge to leak whenever she sent a glare in his direction? Had his subconscious always known?) but it had not been until meeting the late Anastasia Truebridge on that burning bridge that...well...yes.

"AaaaAAAAAhhh....Mr. Truebridge," he greeted, not as a yell but more of a tone that crescendoed from shock to forced cheer. "To..." Oh, voice a tiny bit shrill there. Taking a moment to clear his throat, Airey gestured to the seat across from his desk. "Please, take a seat...as long as it remains in this office, that is."
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Old 12-12-2021, 08:20 PM   #6 (permalink)
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Davie shuffled in, sniffling slightly for no reason at all, and with his hands already in his pockets. He had a small stone in there that he was turning over and over, like a worry stone, as he walked. He swallowed thickly and looked up as the Admiral said his name.

Take a seat.

Ha.

"Literally?" Davie almost cracked a smile, his lips twitching just slightly, and shuffled over. He took a seat but just by sitting, for he wasn't the kind of person who would steal a tie for no reason or anything like that. He settled in, crossing his long legs at the ankle and letting out a small sigh.

He didn't want to talk. He just wanted to exist without feeling for a bit. He pulled the little stone of his pocket and sat it on the edge of the Admiral's desk.

"Look... Pebble's cousin?" Yes, quite.
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Old 12-13-2021, 02:02 PM   #7 (permalink)

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Sniffling.

Oh no.

It was not germs he was concerned about, but something much worse and discomforting. A certain leakage from the eyes of one David Truebridge that he would not expect to ever bear witness to and the likes of that he would very much like to avoid at all costs. Airey Flamsteed and his ability to cope with the tears of others that were not his own children with proper empathy were so finite that he barely needed both hands to count. While he could muster up a dry socially distanced pat on the back or float a box of tissues to a weeping person with ease, it was the more intimate settings that raised things to red alert.

Though, as it were, David seemed to have only inhaled a bit of dust and hence the sniffle as the young man's lips twitched towards a smile before sitting. Dust was still cause for concern, however. He had just sterilized the place so there should not BE any dust TO cause said sniffling.

"Yes...well..." The man adjusted his tie a bit upon clearing his throat and attempted to find himself a more comfortable position to sit in that was likewise conducting to conversation and less recoiling. "One can never be too careful about such things, I suppose."

The sudden appearance of a rock on his desk took him a bit by surprise and part of his wishful thinking yearned to believe that the former Ravenclaw had come to his office for the sole purpose of performing a bit of show and tell. Alas. "Ah," he nodded, leaning forward a but to pluck the stone from where it sat and examine it. "I see the likeness." Ahem. "Does...does...he...she...have
a name?
"

This was totally natural.
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Old 12-14-2021, 01:44 AM   #8 (permalink)
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Yes, it was allergies. David was allergic to dust, that was all. He knew he could always count on the Admiral for understanding him. That was probably what had lead him here today: the comfort in knowing he'd be understood without really trying.

David nodded, baby blues still on the pebble, and cleared his throat too.

"Gravel." Wait, what? Why did he say that? The first five letters of gravel included the word G R A V E. Grave, you know, where Mum was now.

His face contorted in pain for the moment and he let out a sharp, sudden breath, along with a rush of words. "Do you know anything about ghosts, Admiral? Do you think she might become one day? Might show up and shock us all? I was going through some of her papers, see, and I found one where she might have been considering that process...? I haven't been into my usual work space yet but I'm convinced I will hear her if I do...."

Hope, apparently, was what he was here for.
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Old 12-16-2021, 04:48 PM   #9 (permalink)

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Airey too was very much allergic to dust. Dust or anything really that risks causing his eye ducts to secret liquid. So, really, this entire situation he had found himself in right now he was also allergic to. Terribly inconsiderate of you, Mr. Truebridge, to not be more respectful of such things.

......ahem.

The young Truebridge was not the only one straightening in his seat. He was rather sure that that was not how that word was meant to be pronounced, or perhaps the department head was in his head and causing his own ears to mishear. Whichever the case, his tie was entirely too tight around his neck for this. "Gravel, very clever," he coughed before reaching over for his tea to lightly sip on. "You know, as a young lad I had such aspirations of joining the The Geological Society...and veer its interest towards the geoscience of space. After all, us space and planetary scientists search for clues in the rocks, dust, gas and other matter to seek an understanding of the formation and development of planets, moons, stars and perhaps other life in our universe. Would have attempted to start a club at Hogwarts if I felt the interest there...or if I had been even remotely popular enough for such a thing." Anything, literally anything, to move conversation away from graves and deceased red heads even if it meant some embarrassment.

Rather embarrassment than tears.


Except it seemed Mr. Truebridge did not receive the memo - the one where they did not discuss his mother.

"I certainly h---..." The rest of that thought was that he certainly HOPED NOT. That one Anastasia Truebridge would suddenly appear some day to haunt him. The man's face rather resembled an Edvard Munch piece save for his hands, fingers, being molded over his knees and squeezing them firmly. If he kept a stress ball, he would be squeezing that right now while he took a couple more moments to collect his thoughts and shift into a stoic neutral. "Only so much in my mentor and former colleague Marion Burbage..." he continued after a complete tonal change. "...and that her haunting as a ghost is directly associated to the location of her demise in the Tower Patch. Were your mother to return I imagine she would be most drawn to the wooden bridge region of Hogwarts castle." His stomach twisted in knots and he looked down at his hands on his knees. He had not even considered the possibility that Mr. Truebridge may hear his mother whispering through The Veil - though he highly doubted the woman even capable of whispering in the afterlife.

The former Ravenclaw's discomfort oozed him and soaked the air in a heavy and dreary mood that zapped Airey as though struck by lightning.

"...my...assessment is that...were your mother to return as a ghost, it is my understanding that she would be bound to Hogwarts castle..." Which was another terribly unfortunate thought because his sons were there and need not understand why their father was afraid of redheads.
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Old 12-24-2021, 03:59 AM   #10 (permalink)
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David was still stuck in a bit of an awkward face, something along the lines of

Minimalist facial expressions aside, he nodded along to his former professor's story, realizing full well that he should have spoken up sooner to reassure the man that he WAS popular, that he WOULD have attended his club.

But... he was too trapped in his grief again to notice. Too focused on the answer about the ghost.

"Do you know anyone who works there still?" he almost talked over the admiral, interrupting right at the part when he was talking about the bridge. "That's kind of...."

He drifted off, thinking of something suddenly. "I think we should reach out to the school, just in case she comes back. Someone should be on the lookout for her spirit. Because... because she'll probably be irate, and confused, and you know how she ge--- got, how she got, how, it, uh."

Davie polished his glasses nervously. "Please, sir. Tell me who to contact." Just in case. He had to do his duties as a son.
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Old 01-06-2022, 08:32 AM   #11 (permalink)

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Yes...well...David Truebridge was a bit of a diamond in the rough, not too unlike himself. Niche hobbies and interests and very few who could truly appreciate and understand the niches of those interests. But, well, all this was simply an aside at the moment seeing as there were even more distressing and pressing matters to focus on presently.

He would much rather discuss rocks though, for the record.

"My cousin, actually," he nodded, his face twitching just a bit in discomfort at thinking about what almost was. "She is the current professor of Herbology and Slytherin Head of House." The first of those, he realized all too delayed, may come across as a bit insensitive and just the sort of superfluous information to send this conversation even further into a nosedive.

The urgency in David's voice was not missed, though it was an unsettling sort of urgency. There was fear and stress, the stress of expectation thrust upon him, coating each syllable. And while Airey would never wish for one of his family to return as a ghost, he would much rather them move on and be at eternal rest, he was not terrified by the thought. But the words, the stammering, the nervous manner in which David cleaned his glasses...it reminded himself of, well, himself as a lad. Trying to please and not disappoint a certain rigidness from paternal gazes.

"Mr. Truebridge," he spoke clearly, calmly, and in very much the sort of manner he would were he about to hand out assignments for the department. Which is why what came next may be...surprising. "Do you...would you...require a hug?"
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Old 01-12-2022, 01:19 AM   #12 (permalink)
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'Niche' was certainly one way to describe David Truebridge. 'An acquired taste with deep mommy issues' would also be another phrase. But to each their own.

The important thing here was: Airey knew someone. He knew someone.

"So you'll tell them to look out for her?" The words came out in a rush but he felt a great sense of relief as soon as he said them. And then... then Airey made him feel more things. What was he becoming, an INFJ?! The heck. The Admiral was really, truly, going to hug him?????????

Yes. A hug was happening. Like it or not, David did need this. He stood up, arms up, nodding deeply as he waited for his hug.
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Old 01-15-2022, 08:29 AM   #13 (permalink)

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Yes...well...(again)...this older gentleman with plenty of niches of his own was going to stick with the niche description - though someone else with pale hair and complexion may be more inclined towards the other.

Airey nodded in confirmation. He owed June another correspondence soon anyway regarding the twins and this could be another essential tacked on to things. The, er, more pressing matter now was this offer he was already somewhat wishing had not just slipped out of his mouth. To date, he could probably found the number of hugs he had given out in this kind of setting on both his hands with maybe a couple of toes thrown in there. There had been a large graduating class Hogwarts that tipped the scales a bit. There were the mentor hugs that were more of a rarity to paternal hugs, though the one now was a particularly delicate blend of the both. Perhaps a part of him had hoped Mr. Truebridge would decline...but since that was not the case...

Clearing his throat and smoothing his tie down his front, Airey buttoned one of the buttons on his suit jacket and stumbled around his desk to meet the young man on the other side. And then, with a deep inhale, he took one long stride and folded his arms around the Ravenclaw and gingerly pulled him closer to him, head to his chest and one hand gently rubbed up and down the Unspeakable's back - just as he would his own sons when they were feeling particularly fragile.
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Old 01-27-2022, 11:59 PM   #14 (permalink)
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And it was just what he needed.

David felt safe, protected, respected, and, dare he admit it, a little bit loved in Flamsteed's embrace. He also felt a little melty and warm, and when the hug came to a final end, he stepped back and realized he'd shed more than a few tears on the Admiral's suit. Hopefully the wet spots weren't permanently damaging?!!

He sniffed mightily and saluted the man. "Thank you." His time was up here. David had showed all two of his emotions and it was time to high-tail it out of there. Without another word, and completely forgetting Gravel, and his request to move to another work area, he awkwardly turned around to start for the door.
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