Ministry Wide Fundraiser

She had not arrived. Monroe knew what that meant. He had accepted that Risé was a werewolf without flinching or hexing her or calling her names but he hadn't been nice to her after he realised she was more interested in self pity than in change. Perhaps that was why she wasn't here now.

It was funny, because he'd had an idea in his head of how she would look, walking in the crowd. She wouldn't be the sobbing, wet creature he'd met in the rain; she'd walk tall and not need to excuse herself as she picked her way through the mass because the crowd would part ahead of her. And for some reason, she would be wearing a yellow dress.

But even as he thought about it, he knew that wasn't the real Risé at all. That was a projection of what he wanted her to be and he had already spent too much time up here waiting for someone who had given no indication she was going to arrive.

He had also been completely unencumbered in observing his superior's activities. Like Monroe, Jack had barely moved, in her case preferring to flirt with what Monroe could only assume was the heir to a great wizarding fortune.

Reminded of his purpose, Monroe stepped down and began to circulate among the guests. He still felt anxiety at the thought of missing Risé's arrival, no matter how unlikely it was. But he also had a job to do, even if it was perhaps not exactly the job Jack assumed.

With the mention of the possibility of food, Nemo was made notably more alert. "I'll have to find me some of those. Or a whole tray. And when I do I think I'll head upstairs," Nemo replied with revived motivation as he sprung from his stool to stand, drink held loosely at his side.

He flung his jacket over his shoulder and met Jack's gaze, "What do you say? Wanna go find some grub and bail?" He proposed with a flick of his brows. "I'm sure you have enough of your clones around here to hold down the fort," Nemo added in a sing-song tone for good measure, despite his expectations of being rejected; Nemo couldn't win every round, as it were.

Jack was reliable. As insane as she was, as much as she loved trouble and mischief, when it came to certain things, she could always be relied on. If a friend called her name, she was there. She fed her animals every day, she trained every day. And she didn’t skip out on her job. Ever. But here it was, a friend calling out to her in one sense. And though Jack really cared about her job, she also felt the lack of commaraderie taking its toll, and to have someone so willing to put time into a friendship with her… Jack was more than tempted.

After a decisive moment of silence, Jack said, “I have to make a speech. Then we can jet.” She turned and hurried towards the stage, managing to catch Teddy’s arm as she went. She pulled him onto stage and approached the magical microphone. “Welcome everyone,” she said, without introduction. “My name is Jack Dyllan and this is my right hand man, Teddy.” He scowled at her, but she refused to give his full name. “Please, enjoy the night. Everything but the drinks are on our department, but anything you donate into the fountain goes to the cause of helping assimilate werewolves into a rather prejudiced society. If you have any questions, any of my staff can be of greatest assistance. They are the ones reporting here and there and making themselves look busy. Can’t miss them. Alright. Enjoy!”

She glanced around and spotted Poe, hurrying towards him the best she could, being surrounded by crowd everywhere she went. Finally, she spotted him, and gently elbowed her way between two gentleman to reach him. “All set,” she said vaguely, for ears were bending her way.

As the attention of those present was drawn in another direction by Jack's makeshift speech, the search for an appetizer tray began, and through the throng of idle Ministry officials Nemo wove.

Much in the same waltz-like manner that he moved during such moments of importance as participating in a duel, Nemo spun and slid with the elegance of a practiced dancer. It had always been his way, to act a brute while in the presence of watchful eyes, only to display the precise and exceptionally graceful movements that he'd learned during his duties as an auror when he was certain that they would go unseen. Thus, he swayed between suited men and women dressed in their finest attire towards the farthest of the atrium's corners, until at last he caught site of the object of his efforts.

Bingo.

Nemo swept the tray out of the hands of an unsuspecting employee and without looking back, he proceeded in the general direction of the elevators that would provide him with the hasty escape that he required. "Hey! You can't just – he just - what?" The confused man Nemo had left behind complained, but made no further fuss or attempts to retrieve the stolen food.

And shortly thereafter, Nemo was joined by his redheaded clown companion and Nemo settled once more into his traditionally slumped posture as he impolitely stuffed into his mouth several of the 'mini weenies' that he'd acquired. "'bout time, blabbermouth," Nemo greeted Jack as he stepped into the nearest elevator. "My office or yours?"

"Want one?" He offered through a mouthful of food.

Jack laughed at Poe's address to her and she caught a bottle of something passing by, before collecting two glasses of champagne. She tossed her own drink in her own mouth and handed Poe the other glass for him to drink, so they would have too glasses for their own pouring privileges. "Drink and give it back," she ordered, handling the bottle and her empty glass in her other hand.

He asked which office and she began to ponder the idea, trying to figure out which would be a better idea. He offered her a mini weenie in the meantime and she reached out for one in her free hand and popped it into her mouth. She chewed it thoughtfully before reaching out for his glass so she could carry it and he could focus on the tray.

She had never seen Poe's office, and she thought it might be a good indication of what she might have to live with for the next... however long he was going to stick around. "Your office."

Nemo had lost himself in Wonderland and had mistakenly become a participant in a mad tea party.

With a clown.

In an elevator.

In which vodka and champagne sufficed for a lack of proper tea (and frightened Nemo as he hastily downed the remains of both beverages per Jack's request and it occurred to the lad that such a mixture would likely result in a lengthy after-party with the toilet in the morning).

And an abundance of mini weenies served the same purpose as scones.

"That must make me the Mad Hatter. No, I think I'm the Dormouse. He always seemed stoned to me," Nemo absently noted aloud without a thought payed towards the confusion that such a statement may inflict upon Jack, and with the toe of his well worn and beaten combat boots Nemo kicked in one of the Ministry elevator's many numbered buttons.

If Jack wished to reconvene their mad tea party in his office, he was happy to oblige.

"What would that make you then?" Nemo inquired in a jumble of limbs as he passed each of his empty glasses to Jack and repositioned his wobbling tray of 'borrowed' appetizers upon his flattened palm. "I think you're the Mad Hatter then. You sure as hell aren't Alice," He noted with a toothy grin as they arrived.

Ding!

"Why the f-ck was I comparing this to Wonderland, anyway?"

Exit Stage: Nemo Omara and Jack Dyllan