A Council Meeting (Sept 8-9)
Jul 11, 2018 7:27:58 GMT -6
Post by Snick on Jul 11, 2018 7:27:58 GMT -6
The apartment was small and dank, but so are most rent-controlled apartments in Brooklyn. Barely large enough for a human to live in, it nonetheless had its uses. In the center of what the landlord optimistically called the "Living Room" stood a chair surrounded by six identical, interlinked mirrors. One was swiveled out to allow access to the chair -- it wasn't quite the appointed hour for their meeting.
But it was approaching.
Outside the apartment, raised voices could be heard to yell out indistinct things, and the occasional gunshot could be heard to ring out, but like everyone living in Brooklyn, the dark figure was undisturbed and highly jaded. There were more dangerous things than Muggle firearms in the world.
As the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, the figure moved around the apartment, fussing with different file folders and making mental notes on all that would be discussed. There would be a lot to do, and time was short.
Then the clock chimed, and with a rustling, the figure moved into the center of the hexagon, the mirror drawing shut moments after. With the mirror closed, it looked like a legion of similarly-clad figures were surrounding the first. "Let us proceed." Spoke one of the multitude. "I think we can dispense with the reading of our last meeting's minutes..." It may have been an attempt at humor. "Let us discuss old business first. What news is there from Europe?"
"It appears that the rumors are true." Spoke another voice from the mirrors. "The Dark Wizard calling himself Voldemort has indeed resurfaced and is gathering followers. We don't expect him to offer us any assistance, or hinder us. His focus seems to be on Great Britain for the time being with the ambition to extend his influence to the rest of Europe."
"Good. Last thing we need at this juncture is interference from some clown who comes off like a Saturday morning cartoon villain."
"Agreed. Let's move on to our own preparations. Chemical?"
"We've obtained a Muggle chemical processing plant and are securing several failed farms to grow the ingredients so our initiatives are not traced."
"Excellent. Biological?"
"We're working on culturing a strain of mycobacterium bovis that can withstand pasteurization by using flame-freezing spells upon them. We believe that we can market potions to increase milk production in cows more than the hormone-boosting chemicals they use now. By the time we're ready to move, Muggles everywhere will be drinking milk that uses our potions. Insert the bacteria into those potions, and every Muggle who drinks the milk will develop Tuberculosis. When it hits the shelves, it will fill up hospitals in modern societies with the dead and dying. In the third world, where tons of powdered milk are shipped, the death tolls will be enormous. We're also working on other projects, as well, such as an improved strain of swine influenza."
"Make sure we have a cure for these before we implement. We don't want to target magical folk or creatures. Nuclear?"
"Utter failure. We have been so far unable to split the atom with magic."
"Alright. No great loss there. Conventional warfare?"
"We've got several warlords in the third world who need only the slightest provocation to throw the world into chaos. Several of them are acquiring modern weapons and the supplies necessary for creating chemical and biological weapons and for enriching uranium. America's stance on several of these nations' positions will drive a wedge between her and her allies."
"We'll have to see what we can do to increase the atmosphere of paranoia and aggression. Let's move on to new business. Recruiting. As you know, we need four recruits. Teenagers, according to the established protocols, and because of the timetable and proximity to the objective, we shall be recruiting almost exclusively from the Salem Institute. Ideal candidates will be easily disaffected, enticed or otherwise broken into fitting our needs; and we should be able to explain away their disappearances. I see from the faxes I received this morning that we have a few candidates."
"Yes, several. I have sent their dossiers to everyone. Thankfully, the school's counselor keeps detailed notes. So, let's discuss the potentials. Margryta Gemini?"
"I think she's probably too old. Her older brother and famous sister would be good leverage to turn her, but I don't think she has any real sort of ambition other than to ride someone else's coat-tails. But she still might be made to serve the cause without joining. More on that later, though."
"Alright. Elizabeta Romani-Nicoli? Junior, so we'd have some time to work with her. She's very ambitious, and her ambitions tend to follow a very linear pattern. Point A leads to Point B and onto Point C."
"Dangerously ambitious if you ask me. Too determined to have her way. She'd probably French kiss every ass in our order to get ahead, and then sell us all out to get in good with the other side."
Papers shuffled. "Agreed. But still worth an earmark. Makepeace?"
"He has no reason to love Muggles, but he's never lashed out at them with magic, not even accidentally. How would we turn him?"
"He channels his emotions through his art. Arrange for a Muggle in his orphanage to critically wound his hand, and make sure he’s sent to a muggle hospital, where they’ll botch the repairs badly enough to make the damage irreparable, even by magic. From there, it's a simple matter to manipulate him. Which brings us to Phrixos Pratt."
A throat cleared. "Ever since his nervous breakdown, he’s been totally without ambition and unmotivated unless it’s to pull some sort of childish prank. Not a pressure player. Even if we could motivate him, how would we get him to turn?"
"Convince him that doing so would go against dear old Daddy's wishes? Perhaps arrange things so his younger, more presentable brother gets things that he wants? It's hard to say; we would have to get him in the game again."
"Do we know what he wants? If anything?"
"Not yet, but we can observe him for potential weak spots. Maybe he'll develop a crush on a girl or something. Marc Drake?"
"The boy has Tourette's syndrome. Can he even cast a spell without going off on a cussing spree?"
"He's not an imbecile, he just has a neurological disorder."
"Ok, so, how do we turn him?"
"Not sure. The only weak point we can identify is that he hero-worships his brother. Short of arranging for a Muggle to kill his brother, or curing his Tourette's, he's fairly scrupulous. Revan Gemini?”
“She may be a possibility, despite having a very famous twin. She’s a bit of a hellion, and it’s well known that she and her sisters do not get along. She’s dating a muggle, her childhood sweetheart...”
“...To whom we could feed a bunch of love potions, have him plow the back forty while she’s at school, and make sure to intercept any mail that the two send to one another until the damage is beyond repair. Plus, we could arrange for her to have a few fights with her siblings. Lorccan O'Brien?"
"I doubt the O'Briens would notice if one of their children went missing." That statement drew a nasty undercurrent of laughter from the throng. "The boy is an underachiever. High testing results, low grades. Seems like a natural."
"Very interested in the dark arts, too, and he's hardly very subtle about it. If we engineer a permanent schism between him and his sister, he would likely find himself without a moral compass. And then nobody would wonder where he went; he only seems to stay around for her sake. Let's see... The transfer student, Cameron Finley."
"Another underachiever. And a Metamorphmagus to boot. That puts her high up on the list. But she's also a high risk for substance abuse."
"Agreed. She seems to have a strong connection to her Muggle father, even though the piece of shit wants nothing to do with her. All we need to do is arrange for the man to utterly and irrevocably break her heart, and then move in slowly. That brings us to... Patrick Pratt.”
“No. Unlike his elder brother, if Patrick were to disappear, we could not simply write him off as a runaway. The only way I think we could arrange that would be to restore Phrixos to the position of most-favored heir.”
“Fair enough, we can keep him as a reserve option. Alexandria Lively."
"She's very young, but that's not necessarily bad thing. Abusive family background, abandoned by her family, tomboy, tends to get into a lot of fights. We'd need to use finesse, physically-abused kids don’t give their trust easily. How would we approach her?"
"Arrange something bad to happen to her younger brother at the hands of his adoptive family. Blame it on Muggles."
"I hate to break up this mutual admiration society you have going..." Interjected a new voice. "But these are our kids we're talking about. Not Muggle kids, but young witches and wizards. The future of our kind. What you're talking about..."
"What we're talking about is taking back the world that was stolen from us. Thousands of years ago, our kind were Gods among men. The Greeks, the Norse, the Egyptians, the Babylonians... They worshiped our kind, they did our bidding. Then some of our kind decided that we didn't deserve to reign over Mugglekind from on high. It was the beginning of the Peritheosis -- Our fall from grace. So we became kings and queens instead. We ruled over and guided them, but some among us still believed that we had no rightful place among them, and we were toppled from our thrones. At every point in our history, we have been pushed farther and farther from the light, into the shadows and the interstices. Why? Because a few of our kind arrogantly imposed their morality upon us, under the assumption that their way, their vision, their beliefs were the only way. The Muggles are systematically destroying this world like termites in a tree; eating away at it until there isn't much left while our kind squabble over blood purity and other meaningless distinctions. This is what we are talking about. If we are to save the world, there must be some sacrifices made. These children may well be sacrificial lambs, and we are all monsters to use them this way, but if we do not act, if we allow things to proceed as they have, then we’re damning them and their heirs to a future of slow death, suffocating under the garbage that the Muggles shovel around in their endless quest to gratify their selfish desires.”
“Muggles are a herd that must be culled.” Chimed in someone else. “They have gone too long untended. And if we allow them to continue to progress, they will learn about our kind and they will deem us a threat.. How long do you think our kind will survive if they actively hunt us in this day and age? A Muggle sniper with a Barrett M82 rifle can shoot a man in the head from a mile away, and I don’t care who you are, a shield spell will not be able to repel a fifty caliber anti-tank round. They have spy satellites that can read the headlines of a newspaper you’re reading in a cafe. A cruise missile from one of their naval vessels can hit a target more than thirteen hundred miles away. We must -- and we will -- cull the herd and place their newly-decimated population onto reservations, just as they did with the Native Americans. Because, if we do not, they will surely commit genocide against us. I think leaving a mere one percent of them alive is generous.”
“Alright, alright... Emotions are running a little high here, and there is much that needs to be done. Let’s take some time to mull over our choices for recruits, and advance our other initiatives. We need to focus on the potions work that we have going, as that will be the most time-sensitive endeavor. We won’t have very much time to fix things if the batches go wrong at any point. I’ll contact each of you individually with requests for materials and aid so we can further those goals. Until then, this council is adjourned.”
But it was approaching.
Outside the apartment, raised voices could be heard to yell out indistinct things, and the occasional gunshot could be heard to ring out, but like everyone living in Brooklyn, the dark figure was undisturbed and highly jaded. There were more dangerous things than Muggle firearms in the world.
As the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, the figure moved around the apartment, fussing with different file folders and making mental notes on all that would be discussed. There would be a lot to do, and time was short.
Then the clock chimed, and with a rustling, the figure moved into the center of the hexagon, the mirror drawing shut moments after. With the mirror closed, it looked like a legion of similarly-clad figures were surrounding the first. "Let us proceed." Spoke one of the multitude. "I think we can dispense with the reading of our last meeting's minutes..." It may have been an attempt at humor. "Let us discuss old business first. What news is there from Europe?"
"It appears that the rumors are true." Spoke another voice from the mirrors. "The Dark Wizard calling himself Voldemort has indeed resurfaced and is gathering followers. We don't expect him to offer us any assistance, or hinder us. His focus seems to be on Great Britain for the time being with the ambition to extend his influence to the rest of Europe."
"Good. Last thing we need at this juncture is interference from some clown who comes off like a Saturday morning cartoon villain."
"Agreed. Let's move on to our own preparations. Chemical?"
"We've obtained a Muggle chemical processing plant and are securing several failed farms to grow the ingredients so our initiatives are not traced."
"Excellent. Biological?"
"We're working on culturing a strain of mycobacterium bovis that can withstand pasteurization by using flame-freezing spells upon them. We believe that we can market potions to increase milk production in cows more than the hormone-boosting chemicals they use now. By the time we're ready to move, Muggles everywhere will be drinking milk that uses our potions. Insert the bacteria into those potions, and every Muggle who drinks the milk will develop Tuberculosis. When it hits the shelves, it will fill up hospitals in modern societies with the dead and dying. In the third world, where tons of powdered milk are shipped, the death tolls will be enormous. We're also working on other projects, as well, such as an improved strain of swine influenza."
"Make sure we have a cure for these before we implement. We don't want to target magical folk or creatures. Nuclear?"
"Utter failure. We have been so far unable to split the atom with magic."
"Alright. No great loss there. Conventional warfare?"
"We've got several warlords in the third world who need only the slightest provocation to throw the world into chaos. Several of them are acquiring modern weapons and the supplies necessary for creating chemical and biological weapons and for enriching uranium. America's stance on several of these nations' positions will drive a wedge between her and her allies."
"We'll have to see what we can do to increase the atmosphere of paranoia and aggression. Let's move on to new business. Recruiting. As you know, we need four recruits. Teenagers, according to the established protocols, and because of the timetable and proximity to the objective, we shall be recruiting almost exclusively from the Salem Institute. Ideal candidates will be easily disaffected, enticed or otherwise broken into fitting our needs; and we should be able to explain away their disappearances. I see from the faxes I received this morning that we have a few candidates."
"Yes, several. I have sent their dossiers to everyone. Thankfully, the school's counselor keeps detailed notes. So, let's discuss the potentials. Margryta Gemini?"
"I think she's probably too old. Her older brother and famous sister would be good leverage to turn her, but I don't think she has any real sort of ambition other than to ride someone else's coat-tails. But she still might be made to serve the cause without joining. More on that later, though."
"Alright. Elizabeta Romani-Nicoli? Junior, so we'd have some time to work with her. She's very ambitious, and her ambitions tend to follow a very linear pattern. Point A leads to Point B and onto Point C."
"Dangerously ambitious if you ask me. Too determined to have her way. She'd probably French kiss every ass in our order to get ahead, and then sell us all out to get in good with the other side."
Papers shuffled. "Agreed. But still worth an earmark. Makepeace?"
"He has no reason to love Muggles, but he's never lashed out at them with magic, not even accidentally. How would we turn him?"
"He channels his emotions through his art. Arrange for a Muggle in his orphanage to critically wound his hand, and make sure he’s sent to a muggle hospital, where they’ll botch the repairs badly enough to make the damage irreparable, even by magic. From there, it's a simple matter to manipulate him. Which brings us to Phrixos Pratt."
A throat cleared. "Ever since his nervous breakdown, he’s been totally without ambition and unmotivated unless it’s to pull some sort of childish prank. Not a pressure player. Even if we could motivate him, how would we get him to turn?"
"Convince him that doing so would go against dear old Daddy's wishes? Perhaps arrange things so his younger, more presentable brother gets things that he wants? It's hard to say; we would have to get him in the game again."
"Do we know what he wants? If anything?"
"Not yet, but we can observe him for potential weak spots. Maybe he'll develop a crush on a girl or something. Marc Drake?"
"The boy has Tourette's syndrome. Can he even cast a spell without going off on a cussing spree?"
"He's not an imbecile, he just has a neurological disorder."
"Ok, so, how do we turn him?"
"Not sure. The only weak point we can identify is that he hero-worships his brother. Short of arranging for a Muggle to kill his brother, or curing his Tourette's, he's fairly scrupulous. Revan Gemini?”
“She may be a possibility, despite having a very famous twin. She’s a bit of a hellion, and it’s well known that she and her sisters do not get along. She’s dating a muggle, her childhood sweetheart...”
“...To whom we could feed a bunch of love potions, have him plow the back forty while she’s at school, and make sure to intercept any mail that the two send to one another until the damage is beyond repair. Plus, we could arrange for her to have a few fights with her siblings. Lorccan O'Brien?"
"I doubt the O'Briens would notice if one of their children went missing." That statement drew a nasty undercurrent of laughter from the throng. "The boy is an underachiever. High testing results, low grades. Seems like a natural."
"Very interested in the dark arts, too, and he's hardly very subtle about it. If we engineer a permanent schism between him and his sister, he would likely find himself without a moral compass. And then nobody would wonder where he went; he only seems to stay around for her sake. Let's see... The transfer student, Cameron Finley."
"Another underachiever. And a Metamorphmagus to boot. That puts her high up on the list. But she's also a high risk for substance abuse."
"Agreed. She seems to have a strong connection to her Muggle father, even though the piece of shit wants nothing to do with her. All we need to do is arrange for the man to utterly and irrevocably break her heart, and then move in slowly. That brings us to... Patrick Pratt.”
“No. Unlike his elder brother, if Patrick were to disappear, we could not simply write him off as a runaway. The only way I think we could arrange that would be to restore Phrixos to the position of most-favored heir.”
“Fair enough, we can keep him as a reserve option. Alexandria Lively."
"She's very young, but that's not necessarily bad thing. Abusive family background, abandoned by her family, tomboy, tends to get into a lot of fights. We'd need to use finesse, physically-abused kids don’t give their trust easily. How would we approach her?"
"Arrange something bad to happen to her younger brother at the hands of his adoptive family. Blame it on Muggles."
"I hate to break up this mutual admiration society you have going..." Interjected a new voice. "But these are our kids we're talking about. Not Muggle kids, but young witches and wizards. The future of our kind. What you're talking about..."
"What we're talking about is taking back the world that was stolen from us. Thousands of years ago, our kind were Gods among men. The Greeks, the Norse, the Egyptians, the Babylonians... They worshiped our kind, they did our bidding. Then some of our kind decided that we didn't deserve to reign over Mugglekind from on high. It was the beginning of the Peritheosis -- Our fall from grace. So we became kings and queens instead. We ruled over and guided them, but some among us still believed that we had no rightful place among them, and we were toppled from our thrones. At every point in our history, we have been pushed farther and farther from the light, into the shadows and the interstices. Why? Because a few of our kind arrogantly imposed their morality upon us, under the assumption that their way, their vision, their beliefs were the only way. The Muggles are systematically destroying this world like termites in a tree; eating away at it until there isn't much left while our kind squabble over blood purity and other meaningless distinctions. This is what we are talking about. If we are to save the world, there must be some sacrifices made. These children may well be sacrificial lambs, and we are all monsters to use them this way, but if we do not act, if we allow things to proceed as they have, then we’re damning them and their heirs to a future of slow death, suffocating under the garbage that the Muggles shovel around in their endless quest to gratify their selfish desires.”
“Muggles are a herd that must be culled.” Chimed in someone else. “They have gone too long untended. And if we allow them to continue to progress, they will learn about our kind and they will deem us a threat.. How long do you think our kind will survive if they actively hunt us in this day and age? A Muggle sniper with a Barrett M82 rifle can shoot a man in the head from a mile away, and I don’t care who you are, a shield spell will not be able to repel a fifty caliber anti-tank round. They have spy satellites that can read the headlines of a newspaper you’re reading in a cafe. A cruise missile from one of their naval vessels can hit a target more than thirteen hundred miles away. We must -- and we will -- cull the herd and place their newly-decimated population onto reservations, just as they did with the Native Americans. Because, if we do not, they will surely commit genocide against us. I think leaving a mere one percent of them alive is generous.”
“Alright, alright... Emotions are running a little high here, and there is much that needs to be done. Let’s take some time to mull over our choices for recruits, and advance our other initiatives. We need to focus on the potions work that we have going, as that will be the most time-sensitive endeavor. We won’t have very much time to fix things if the batches go wrong at any point. I’ll contact each of you individually with requests for materials and aid so we can further those goals. Until then, this council is adjourned.”
