Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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Fill - When the Clouds Roll By (15/?)

[(Anonymous)]

May

Hey chickadee,

Look, can tell your Pop it’s okay and I’m not gonna be on welfare? He was pretty mad when we spoke, like it’s my fault Mr K. gave me such short notice. Anyways he apologized, and then said he might not be moving out quite yet, on account of he’s engaged.

So it must be the blonde after all, seeing as she came back and kept the smile on, only she was hooked to a salt-and-pepper gent with a tie pin and an emerald in it as big as the Ritz. Yeah, I dunno, chick. I guess it’s what them papers call Modern Times.

Yours,
Henry

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Sir,

Sending on the Beltane memo and our closure rates for the month. Eighteen cases boxed and the Deathly Hello gang behind bars – it seems your big idea has paid off!

Congratulations, sir.

Tina

(Yes, you may take her out in your new car. Yes, you may fly the car. Yes, she is still to be home by midnight. Yes, I will be a sister to you if you can muster up that legendary braveness and pop the question.)

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Dearest,

I know the dock – I was headed there last year, remember? Don’t worry, there’ll be a gangly British wizard in a blueberry blue jacket waiting to whisk you off your feet. No hitch along the way, I promise. No escapist in the case, and, as a matter of fact, no case. They’re all at the House, playing and frisking and running Mother ragged, but she says it’s all in a day’s work. I think the Diricawls are planning a welcome dance.

Mother’s putting you in Tease’s room because he’s only coming for Beltane dinner. Says you’re welcome to his red coat if you want to "leg it at the Hunt Ball", which is really his little joke. He knows that I would deny him as a brother if he chased anything four-footed.

I can’t believe it’s only been three months and we’re getting two options! Yes, I know we said we’ll discuss them when you’re here. But I want you to know – wherever, whatever, whenever. Or, as Mother would say, bring out the saddle and I’ll bring the Hippogriff.

I’ll be seeing you next week, Jacob.

With all my heart,
Newt

June

Percival,

Care to explain?

Seraphina Picquery

Madam President,

I don’t know why Director Graves has persistently, all of the last three months, dismissed my reports as to the No-Maj Jacob Kowalski and his potential interaction with wizards. Only last week my team spotted a great horned owl, wingspan 90 cm, female, making rounds before his window. Mr Graves’s opinion that it was "probably a large bat" I find injurious to the last degree.

Since you, Madam President, personally entrusted Mr Kowalski to my surveillance, I have no choice but to deliver the matter into your hands.

Faithfully yours,
Arcanus Lee

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Froglet,

Glad I could see you, and meet your boyfriend under better auspices. Merlin’s beard! Our Newt getting engaged. Seems like it was only yesterday I pretended to be a Hippo and carried you around the yard on my back, belching out grunts (oh yes, that one goes in my speech). Who could have told you’d beat me to the hitching post?

To the heart of the matter. I don’t know what your plans are (old song), but if you act on Aunt Batty’s cue and follow hubby back to the New York, you’ll need a job. Not to mention a permit for your creatures. Now, Percival Graves is obviously hoarding a card or two up his sleeve, and I’m not talking Exploding Snap here. If worst comes to best, go see him. He owes you one, and he’s an old MACUSA horse – can fit you where you won’t have to toil at the grind – maybe oversee the breeding bizz there or something.

Meanwhile, little brother, enjoy your Beltane hol. And your man – in all decency and decorum, of course.

Tease

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Madam President,

Why, yes, I certainly can.

If Arcanus will be so good as to reopen his file, he will find a confidential report from me at the very bottom, dating back to last year. In which I certify upon my honour – and I shall do it again, Sera, publicly if I must – that the No-Maj J. Kowalski has proved impervious to Obliviating, a clear sign that he has powerful, if so far inactive traces of magic in his blood. Squibs are rare, but not unheard of in this our country, and I therefore diagnosed Mr Kowalski as one. Apparently, my report has escaped Arcanus’s notice – a forgivable lapse, given his extremely busy agenda as Supervisor.

Having established that nothing short of a Cruciatus could erase Mr Kowalski’s memories of us, I recruited him. It was a bold step, granted, and one that I should have made known to you. But time was of the essence. Our discovery of the Deathly Hello gang had just emerged in the wake of the Chicago crackdown. It was then that I formed a bold idea – that of tying our new offensive spells not to traditional Latin words, that are easy enough to identify and use as a basis for counter-spells, but to ordinary No-Maj words.

Our enemy’s weakness lies in his prejudice – as I heard you say once before the International Confederation. Grindelwald’s makes him blind and deaf, as it does his thugs. They have no clue to the spells we’re using and no means to defuse them, as long as their hatred survives. Last month, you were speaking of awarding me the Phoenix of Honour. If there is any justice in MACUSA, Mr Kowalski, who has taken a considerable risk in providing the words of the spells, is entitled one.

I know that your mandate is ending next year, Seraphina. And I spoke my mind when I said I would campaign for you again with all of my strength and belief. But the time has come to make a choice. Either make an exception to a rule written in fear and trembling, and show us how the times have changed. Or send Arcanus’s team to bring in Mr Kowalski. In which case my resignation and my person will be at your disposal.

Sincerely yours,
Percival Graves

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