“Are they trying to kill them?”
Lord MacCailin laid down the case files on his desk, with a scowl and a sigh. Policies had, once again, decided that it would be much easier if they were in charge of his Department, from every Enforcer to every mission. Such all encompassing control by a bunch of morons made MacCailin sick to his stomach. If Policies knew how to run his damn Department better than he did, he would let them run wild. And now, they had put him at an impasse based on his selection of candidates. These candidates, these missions. No objections.
“Hardly, sir. They’re only expected to die in one them. The rest are likely to end up in failure, except for this one, although I wouldn’t be surprised if that ends up being botched too.” To her credit, Liselle was the realist. Although, if even he could see how apparently bad it was, there was definitely a problem. “For a test of competency, I have to say this is quite extreme. We’re looking at a hypothetical three failures in one week. They certainly don’t like you, do they, sir?”
“The fact they all have to complete the mission successfully is bullshit, and you know it. At that point, you can’t even call it a fair evaluation.” A fair evaluation, they said. Fair in what sense? That if one team failed, everyone failed? This reeked of spite, as it usually did. MacCailin rubbed at his eyes and drank a bit from his cold cup of coffee. The situation was impossible to weasel out of, unless... “Sakuragi...”
Sakuragi Rin stood at attention. One of two Enforcers that dealt with Policies, she was often busy every night exerting her... own way of influencing the higher ranking members of the Clock Tower. Despite her reputation, MacCailin considered her to be a valuable member, much to Liselle’s distaste.
“No can do, sir. I already tried—this proposal has been sitting on their desks for about a week now and no matter who I... coerce, I can’t change shit.” Sakuragi twirled a lock of hair around her finger, glancing at the case files. She’d already read them from front to back, but it was impressive how Policies had pulled out these from those on the backburner. It was as if... “I can try to oppose, but they won’t budge. Do you want me to try and see if I can make the terms more lenient? Maybe get Liselle to help, if you know what I mean~ They love her, they really do.”
“Go back to the hole you crawled out of and stay there, Sakuragi. Don’t drag me down to your level. Your relations with Lady Bismarck are the talk of gutter trash, and I’d rather not find myself in a lowlife Clock Tower tabloid.” Liselle said, without looking up. She already was pouring over the peculiarities of a certain case file, her fingers tracing over every word. “I would have loved to do this one myself, but... Sir, I think the best we can do is give advice and possibly equipment.”
“Goddamnit. First they give me shit over the Meltdown fiasco, and now this. Can’t they just state this flat out?”
“That’s too much for any mage, sir. Always about the indirect, the subtle, so when you’re hands on, it’s a bit of a wake-up call. Gives you domin—”
“Enough, Sakuragi. At any rate, Lord MacCailin, do you want to proceed as planned? Sakuragi can try dealing with them again, but that’s only a week window.” Invitations were soon to be sent. While they could delay, Policies would immediately catch on and insult them for deliberately stalling, forcing them to make a decision. There was no likely chance of ever “winning.”
“Let Policies do as they want. I tossed all my chips into getting these eight and now they better prove themselves.” That was it, he supposed. To see if his words, his positive impressions of the new candidates, would be proven right. Granted, he would have liked to ease them in, but compassion wasn’t in the job description.
“Are you sure?” The two of them said in unision. Sakuragi stifled a giggle right afterward, while Liselle simply frowned and threw the case file she was browsing back onto the desk.
MacCailin nodded, before glancing at the case files for his new candidates. Trusting them this much was a mistake, no doubt, but he had to believe.
There was a brief moment of silence, until Liselle broke it with the clack of her heels.
“I’ll thumb through the list of candidates you didn’t look at, sir. And the condolence letters. Usually I’d do them after the deed was done, but it appears we simply have no time.”
Sakuragi snickered, before reaching over and grabbing the files off MacCailin’s desk. “I’ll get all the paperwork ready, then. Anything else you need from little old me, sir?”
MacCailin eyed her for a moment.
“Maybe—”
“No,” Liselle said flatly.
“Killjoy,” Sakuragi said, her hips swaying as she left the room.
Liselle groaned, before turning to MacCailin, grabbing a stack of papers lying in a chair. “Instead, why don’t you work on this? You have eighteen other Enforcers that need things to do, sir.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He grudgingly took the papers from her hand, noticing the sorted stack of incidents and reports. Baskerville kept popping up, much to his annoyance. Lord Doyle should fetch his own damn dog. He thumbed through the next report, which was... Ah. That was definitely going to be assigned to Ainsworth. The stack never seemed to end, and with a sigh, he realized that dwelling on the status of his new recruits wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He had other things to do than try to wrest control over the uncontrollable.
...Back to work, he supposed.
----------------------------
I. Introductions
Strength is born of adversity.
You glanced at the letter in your hands. Magi were well known for being secretive, but a part of you wanted to say the level of obscurity around the Enforcer dormitory was somewhat excessive. A twenty-four step list of directions accompanied by four seals, three sigils, a blood sample, and two geas was pushing it. Having to stop every once in a while just to flash some symbol of authorization to prevent yourself from being blasted by the bounded field was getting somewhat tedious.
Eventually, you came upon the massive steel gates that blocked the way between you and your new “home.” Elegantly designed, inscribed with runes and an extra bounded field, although you had to question the bald eagle perched on top. Based on what you knew of MacCailin, that certainly wasn’t his familiar, but you wouldn’t know who it belonged to anyway. Probably some Enforcer that had awful taste in familiars. Eagles were not subtle.
It was when you turned your eyes away from the gate that you noticed everyone else was patiently waiting to get inside. Your fellow Enforcers—you’d heard about eight openings, but honestly, the thought didn’t occur to you that they would all be filled. The sheer thought of “competition” for your current position was laughable.
“I expected you all to be late,” you hear from the other side of the gate. You recognized that voice. Liselle Oakley had paid you a visit a few days earlier to give you your detestable set of directions. Back then, you distinctly remembered, she wore a suit. Now she was decked out in a maid uniform, apron and all. It was somewhat jarring, yet at the same time, that deadpan tone she used hadn’t changed in the slightest.
With a flicker of prana and a pulling motion from Liselle, the gates swung wide open, and she beckoned you to follow her. Trailing behind her (she mentioned vehicles would be taken care of), the Enforcer dormitory was in full view. It reminded you more of a spacious hotel or mansion. While it was only two stories, the size of the workshops on each wing were rather accommodating, to say the least. They were definitely used; one section was overrun with vines and greenery, while the other looked like an aviary, an American flag flying proud in the wind. That explained the eagles.
The lobby was rather large when you entered, a nice, mahogany table in the center, with a various array of couches and beanbag chairs surrounding it. Potted plants adorned the corners, and you were given the impression that perhaps you were going to live in a hotel. You honestly expected something much rattier, but perhaps it all was just appearances. They could have easily cleaned up for your arrival.
On the other hand, looking at the occupants of the couches, you weren’t so sure. A pair of girls occupied one, apparently playing video games together, wordless communication between them. The only strange thing was that the younger one was sitting upside-down; her back against the seat cushion and her legs dangling over the leather back pillow. Liselle paid them no mind, and instead directed her attention on the occupants of the other couch.
Liselle glanced at the sleeping girl, her headdress lying on a side table. The man beside her was staring at you, a look of sympathy and pity. He, too, looked tired, but it seemed that pride and curiosity kept him awake nonetheless.
“These are MacCailin’s replacements?” His voice was a bit gruff, like gravel, and you had the distinct feeling of being judged.
“Yes, yes. Would you mind giving them room to sit down? MacCailin is still busy with the mission files.” He obediently scooted over to make room, and Liselle motioned for you to all take seats somewhere in the room. Looked like you would be waiting for a while. “I apologize, but Lord MacCailin is doing his best for your sake…”
She folded her arms, pursing her lips. No doubt trying to figure out a way to kill time. The man was silent, showing no expression.
“Mess hall is that way. It’s staffed by homunculi that work around the clock. Workshops are on each wing and each floor: the basement, this floor, and the second. Pick any empty room you prefer, and please refrain from any experiments involving leylines. We all share the same one, so many of us would prefer it if you didn’t ruin everything.”
She paused, as if she forgot something.
“Ah, and new Enforcers usually do missions in pairs, so introduce yourselves so we don’t need to deal with this later on. Not only that, feel free to ask any questions not related to pay or benefits; that was all in the letter.”
Ah, that was it.
The real time waster.
Introductions.