PARADISA

[Filtered away from the murderers or those who would aid them]

I hate to say it, but we've lost three people, now. The bodies should be kept in a manner similar to those who were killed on the Event Horizon.

York: would you be willing to lend us use of those cryogenic chambers in the basement?

What have people uncovered so far? We should have all our information in one place for ease of access. It shouldn't be too difficult since all we can bloody well do is write.

[Before Class]

[did someone - prefect, Head of House, other Professor? - assign you detention? if so, you might have been assigned to come and wax the desks in Professor Mansfield's classroom. once you arrive, she'll be waiting behind her own desk, and hold out her hand:]

Your wand, please.


[During Class]

[when students arrive, upon everyone's desk is a simple ceramic animal of various shape or size. some have a magical creature, some have more mundane ones, like the bulldog on the Professor's own desk.]

Good morning, everyone. Please take your seats. As always, anyone caught chewing gum, sucking sourballs, or sneaking food or sweets of any other fashion in my classes will have it transfigured into something of my own choosing, and then have to share it with the rest of the class.

Now that that's out of the way: First years, please open your textbooks and study the simple movements required to turn a quill into a twig. I expect you to be attempting to write with sticks by the end of the lesson.

Second and third years, you will be transfiguring your animals from ceramic to stone, and pairing up with the fourth and fifth years, who will be animating them for you. If your animal becomes unruly, simply transfigure your chairs to cages and be done with it, you've been in my class long enough at this point not to need me to hold your bloody hands.

Fifth years, you'll be preparing for your OWLs, of course. At the end of the class, you will be helping the other students undo their work - and also responsible for repairing any accidental and improper transfigurations. If you're to pass your OWLs with flying colors and qualify for the Honours-level Sixth and Seventh year Transfiguration courses, I need to know that you can clean up after yourselves.

Any questions?


[After Class]

[once the students start filing out, Olivia gathers up her materials and starts to pack them away, transfiguring them into miniature and arranging them neatly in what looks like a slim silver cigarette case. she tucks that away in the folds of her robes, and then heads for her office. if you need to speak with her, you can either follow her there, or find her there]

( [Private] )

( [John Hammond, or anyone who could bring this to his attention] )

[that little gamble being made, she sets her journal aside and takes her time to finish her breakfast, even taking the time to read the newspaper that was delivered. it's all old news, really, by her standards, but it's good to even have the vestiges of a familiar routine. once she's done, she dresses for the day and opens the journal again]

It seems we have the day free, in a city that's at least passingly familiar to me. I've been to San Diego on buisness on one or two occasions, and I'm in a mood to get to know the city on a more casual level. Would anyone care to join me?

[so, waking up on a spaceship and having to remember that you're ON a spaceship is an interesting experience. M mentally crosses it off a non-existent bucket list and reads things over. just because it's all different doesn't mean she can't do what still exists of the daily routine she's carved out for herself.

she'll definitely be keeping an eye on the book over the course of the day, but]

For those of us on the Lewis and Clark, who here is planning to attempt to rescue the others? It might do to have a plan. Anyone with experience in this sort of thing, I'm sure we'd all be glad of your knowledge.

[Filtered to Allies Because M Doesn't Really Do Friends Well]

I know everyone's been saying this, but in all seriousness, I need to know where you are. I don't like this, and if what others have said about what happens when things change drastically is any indication, I'm about to like it even less any minute now.

Bond, if you don't report within five minutes, I'm assigning you to guard Conan for a week.

[M hasn't spent long in her new room at all, but even so, she's not happy with it. she almost liked it better in the clinic. there, she had the anonymity she's used to: but here they've pasted her name in gold on the door. her REAL one, where she's spent the last few weeks introducing herself as Emma to save her skin. it's something that's easily worked around, but it still eats at her, and not necessarily because a secret she's used to keeping has been blown wide open. what's slowly bothering her more is that there's only one person who ever called her by that name, and he's far gone. sure, one other person knows her real name, but she'll be damned before she lets him speak it. it's a matter of pride, even as she knows she'll do whatever she can for that one other person. her stubborn nature's at war with the fact that she still feels her duty around her, even here. she's kept it inside well - she's an expert at that, after all. and yet, today - with everyone spilling their hearts out their mouths, she's been watching with a mounting horror, knowing it's only a matter of time.

so she paces her room like a kenneled animal, fidgeting, irritated, until the words can't be contained and fly out, bitten out and bitter. just the right sort of song.]

♫ Loneliness?!
Is a place that I know well
It's the distance between us
And the space inside ourselves ♪

♪ And emptiness?
Is the chattering in your head
It's the call of the living
And the race from life to death
Whoa and I know - yeah, and I know
What you feel... ♪

[she absently reaches up to touch her cheek, feeling along her jawline, as if she expects her face to feel different - as if she needs to make sure it's still there. there are things that haunt her, these days, that follow her. sins to think on.]

♩ And I've got a longin' that's hard to find
Won't give me no peace of mind
Something that I've lived with all along
Days and weeks and months and years
Filling in the time, my dear,
Tryin' to find the place where I belong... ♩

( OOC cut for lyrics... )

[she shakes her head, disgusted with herself. there are worse things she could have laid bare, by far, but this ... this one's fresh, it's still raw and literally still healing. she sits down at her desk and buries her face in her hands, completely done with this nonsense. once she's had a moment to compose herself, she speaks up, plain and sharp, as though none of that just left her lips]

I'd give someone half the jewels in the Tower if they'd bring me a bloody cup of tea about now.

[settling in isn't the right word for what M has been doing. more like coping. everything is still as bizarre for her as it was when she arrived.... maybe even more so. realizing that everyone she'd spoken to thus far was at least telling what they felt to be the honest truth didn't exactly make her feel better. on the contrary, it made her feel worse. either there was something she was missing, a clue to some drug or process they had all undergone, or she really was in another dimension with something irretrievably lost, and no way home. she didn't want to think on which was worse.

she had spent much of her first few days resting, writing in the journal rather than speaking, as her body knitted itself back together and her fatigue waned. Carson had already checked in on her, regularly, and slowly the clinic was becoming familiar to her. finally, she felt fine enough to try looking around on her own, even if she wasn't sure if she was technically cleared to do so.

so, this fine evening, residents will find her anywhere on the second or first floors, making a tentative exploration of her own. she'll end up in the kitchen though, in robe and slippers, staring in perplexion into a dark blue mug]

I don't understand. It's not as though this was meant to be difficult.

[she glances over to see her journal merrily transcribing away].... And I know I left this damn thing back at the clinic. What in God's name...