Absit Omen RPG

Iggy smiled when Greyfriar described his uncle as a good man.  He certainly agreed.  His cousins, going by their last owl, thought his uncle was the worst thing ever to come to Hogwarts. He'd have probably shared the same sentiment if his father had showed up one day as a professor.  His cousins didn't care that Owen had gone to watch over them after Siana was killed, well they didn't care anymore about that.

"Not to say you shouldn't try," Iggy said after listening to them talk about reports and paperwork, "but do you really think you will find something?"

Finding someone who hated werewolves enough to send werewolf hunting tools to people wouldn't be hard.  Finding the actual person who did it seemed impossible.

Iggy smiled when Adrestia joined them, well joined Fauna. "Damn, a red bow would have been a lot easier than what I found for you," he laughed.  Iggy had gone digging through the storerooms of the manor for something that he thought would pique the curiosity of the museum curator.  Mostly as a thanks for her help and a nice Christmas gift and well his family had way too much old stuff locked away in back corners of the manor.

Iggy had never been to a Ministry function before.  His mother had invited him to a few over the last few years but he had always declined.  Now though, he had finally joined the Ministry and it seemed like a way to meet some of his colleagues outside the confines of the lifts.  And apparently to see old faces again as he saw Fauna and heard his old headmaster talking near one of the bars with several others.

It wasn't that he tried to listen in, but they were near the bar he'd headed to and they weren't talking quietly.  And he did have a soft spot for new werewolves.  That was at least part of why he was a mentor now.  And the papers hadn't even feigned to respect his privacy when they'd published his tantrum that had outed him.  He'd read the article that morning though and wasn't sure how much good it would do.  There weren't likely to be many new Grant's re-starting at Hogwarts next term.

"Sorry to interrupt, one eggnog please," he said to the bartender before turning back to the group and Fauna in particular. "Hi Fauna, long time," he grinned, he was pretty sure he hadn't seen her since she'd hexed him but he remembered now that she was an auror. 

"Sorry, again, couldn't help but to overhear, but I'm sure my uncle will help out at Hogwarts if you tell him what's going on. Owen can be overly protective,"  well his whole family could be.  But it was Owen who'd taken the job at Hogwarts.  He probably had the castle wrapped in vines that would attack at the slightest threat to a student by now. "And he was...is nauseatingly nice during my transformations."

"That's surprising, I mean what are the chances."  Iggy wasn't surprised to find himself walking through the cartography section.  It wasn't unusual to find himself in that section of the museum.  He just wouldn't have guessed that his meeting about werewolf mentoring would be with the head curator of this particular section of the museum.

"I can understand that, never fun when the Ministry descends."  Which in his family was basically any gathering they had.  Though that did finally include him now too.  A couple years later than he'd intended and certainly not in the way he'd been expecting.

"I've met with a couple so far.  A few times.  I  get what it is to live with this.  I get most of it.  My aunt suggested I get some mentoring myself."  And for some reason no one in his family worked on Level 4.  He was pretty sure someone worked on every other level.  Just not the one he needed.  And as far as he knew he was the only werewolf in the family too.  At least no one worked in the capture unit.

"I never got anything like what we do after I got attacked."

Iggy heard his name from across the hall from only a slightly older attractive woman, who in a previous life he'd have invited back to his place rather than asking for professional advice.

"I tried to be earlier," he said shaking her hand.  "See if I could spot any new family heirlooms on display," he joked.  There really was no telling what his father or uncles or grandfather would lend or donate.  It wasn't even a surprise anymore to find random things from the manor missing or to reappear.  Though him and his cousins always got caught when they broke something, no one had ever managed to use the revolving door of antiques to their advantage.

"Lead the way, I've never been back to the offices."  His trips to the museum had never included a trip to the offices of the staff.  Nor did the receptions or galas he'd attended with his family.

"I hope it doesn't take that long.  Just have a few questions."  And he'd been a werewolf long enough to know the ropes.  He'd just never walked someone through all the crap that they had to deal with.  "Thank, you for the invitation," Iggy smiled about to decline, "Underwater maps? You work in the Prewett gallery?"  He was pretty sure that was how it worked, they had specialties and as far as he knew the Prewett gallery was the only map gallery in the museum.

Iggy had finally decided to actually seek guidance from one of the other mentors.  Well his aunt Wynelle had suggested he speak to the other mentors if he had questions.  The rest of his aunts and uncles, while clearly expressing how happy they were he was taking to the job, had told him to bugger off after the tenth owl or the third unexpected lunch visit in a row.

So he'd made an appointment with Adrestia Gamp.  Iggy had hoped to be a little earlier than he was, but he'd spent more time at the Science museum than he'd intended. He might have given up hope on actually working with muggles, but nothing was going to stop him from being fascinated by them.  And the Science Museum was always one of his favorites.

He stepped through the wardrobe into the Wizarding History museum proper and checked his watch.  He still had a few minutes, not enough time to look around but he wasn't late at least.  He'd have to check out any new exhibits later. See if his grandfather had loaned anything else.  Or if there was anything new in the room that had his great-times-eleven grandfather's name above the door.  The Marvin Prewett Gallery had held old maps for as long as he could remember but maybe there'd at least be some new old maps.

Iggy looked around the entrance hall.  He couldn't remember if he'd actually met Adrestia Gamp before so he wasn't sure who he was looking for, but the place wasn't exactly bustling in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.

Career Change

Character Name: Ignatius Prewett V
Character Biography: http://absitomen.com/index.php?topic=11928.0
Previous Job/Position: Drummer, Nola & the Knockturnals
Position Applying For: Werewolf Mentor and Freelance Drummer

Why have you chosen to change careers?:
After being injured in the attack on The Leaky Cauldron and then his public outing as a werewolf, he quit the band.  He took a few months off, dealing with his issues, and after a suggestion from his Great Uncle decided to become a werewolf mentor in September of 2011.

Elaborate on your expertise in this new field:
He has dealt with being a werewolf both privately and more recently publicly.   He didn't have any practical experience mentoring before taking the job.

Describe your new job and how you go about doing it:
He works with a few new werewolves on dealing with Ministry bureaucracy and guidelines.  He is still learning on the job what kind of mentor he wants to be.

He is more likely to ask family members for help rather than get help through official channels, though he does reach out to the other mentors when he can.

Iggy would have followed Primrose but Glass's grip prevented him from doing so though if he had been able to hex with a glare, both Primrose and her sister, after she ran into him, would have needed the attention of a healer.  Or at least, that's what Iggy's alcohol soaked brain told him.  Or imagined.  It was hard to tell.

"Fine.  Just. Let. Go."  Iggy said through gritted teeth.  And then there was a Russian in his face.   He wasn't even sure who the man was or where he'd come from.  Russia, a drunken voice in the back of his mind helpfully supplied.

"Really?!  Let's go big man."  He shouted, heedless that he was still restrained.  "I'll say wha—", there was a flash and despite his mouth moving, Iggy wasn't making anymore sounds.

"No, I think that's quite enough.  Thank you, Sir.  I've got him from here."  Arcturus said to his boss as he materialized out of the crowd and took hold of Iggy's arm.  Arcturus took the proffered water and shoved it at Iggy with a look that said to take it and drink it.

Argument was obviously out of the question.  But obstinance was still technically an option.  Though a decreasingly favorable one.  Iggy took the water and downed it in a few gulps before he was led from the room, in the opposite direction from where Primrose had exited.

Exit Iggy

"Really!  You aren't here to check downstairs."  The youngest Ignatius shouted practically in Primrose's face.  Before the explosion, the anti-werewolf proposals and ideas for their protection had for the most part rolled off him, but since November each on had felt like another slap in the face.  Well a lot of things had felt like they were piling on.  And now he was too drunk to care that he was letting it all out in the most public way possible.

"You're not better than us,"  A hand landed on his shoulder, trying to pull him away but he just shrugged away from them.[1]  "We aren't children to be minded by the likes of you!  We don't need to be tracked and herded into our cages every month." 

Well some did, but that wasn't most or even many as far as Iggy was concerned.  And he certainly didn't want to hurt anyone or worse pass it on to them.  The full moon was also what kept him from fully avoiding his family since every month he had to show up at the manor to wait out the transformation in the safe room in the basement.

"We don't need your so called protection!"  He shouted with a forced drunken laugh.  "We need protection from you."

1.	Can be anyone.

Iggy had been avoiding most of his family as much as he could anyway. But somehow, he blamed champagne, Octavia sneaked up on him.  Of his family, she had bothered him the least since the explosion, but it seemed it was her turn now.

"I'm glad you came,  Marcus didn't think you would.  You won me a galleon." She put an arm around his shoulder.  He tried to shake it off, but she held firm.  "No escaping, its my turn to say my piece."

"Fine, just get it other with"  Iggy slurred out, giving up the fight to get away and finishing off the champagne in his glass.

"I think you should see someone,"  She started slowly, worried that he might still try to bolt.  "I was talking to Morgan and between her and Uncle I'm sure they can," She noticed he'd stopped paying any attention to her.

He'd barely been listening to Octavia in the first place, but in waving off several pieces of cake, the house elves seemed to think he needed some food, he'd noticed Primrose standing back out of the crowd for once, instead of spouting off more anti-werewolf nonsense.  And that thought reminded him of what she'd just tried yesterday.  Even avoiding his family, he'd still heard about Primrose's proposal, since it would drastically affect him and the safe room in the basement.

"Are you listening Iggy?"

"Yes, I'll think on it."  He shrugged her off and started weaving his way through the crowd toward Primrose. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" He practically growled, or slurred, it was a bit of both and neither all at once.

"What?  Oh. Ah... Yes.  I'm fine."  Iggy slurred, he hadn't even noticed Nate sit down he was so lost in his head and paying attention to everything but the man approaching his table.  It was a dangerous mix and he silently chided himself for not noticing the man until he spoke.

"Oi, get your own."  He said with a fake laugh  He avoided those he could, but Iggy tried to at least fake with the staff at Calaveras since he saw them everyday.  Some days he was better at it than others.  And today was not one of those days.  "I wish people would stop asking me that.  Do I look that bad?"  He was pretty sure he'd showered that morning.  He didn't think he should look that bad.  And he wasn't hungover.   He'd never really stopped drinking long enough to get one.

He'd apparated into Diagon, as far from where the Leaky Cauldron has stood as possible.  As long as he didn't see it, he was fine.

Those times when inadvertently he'd seen it straight on, he either froze or almost involuntarily apparated.  The latter had happened twice now.  Once back to the safe room in the Prewett Manor, it had been the day after the full moon and apparently that had been the safe place to go.  Even though he hated the room.

The second time, Iggy had found himself in his former apartment.  Which was in a muggle area and now had a nice muggle couple living there.  His father had called in some favors with the obliviators to take care of that.  And then his family had found out about his problems.  And the fact that he'd quit the band in the middle of November.  Well, he just had stopped going to rehearsals and gigs the day before the full moon and hadn't been back since.

Instead he'd been at Calaveras, drinking.  Iggy did usually eat lunch and dinner there as well, but that was to keep himself from getting sick from all the drinking he did.  But, it all just made the days easier to get through.  And since his family hadn't yet stooped to following him during the day, Iggy just had to deal with them at night.  So far, his father, or grandfather, or one of his aunts or uncles or cousins had been in his apartment every night he got home to check on him.  The alcohol made it easier to deal with the time it took to get from the front door to his bedroom and ignore them.  That had been going on for two weeks now.

Morgan had said there was nothing wrong with him physically.  But that hadn't made him feel much better.  And anything smaller than his bedroom made him anxious, and the only reason he could sit at Calaveras was because it was a large room and from his table he could see the doors to the kitchen and to the alley.  His new wand, which still felt off, sat next to his fork on the table.  Ready if he needed it.

He raised his empty glass to get the waiter's attention.  At this point they knew him well enough to bring him another drink,.  And hopefully his food.  He'd been there through most of the day so far.  He arrived as usual around mid-afternoon, which was about as early as Iggy was able to convince himself to get out of bed.  And they'd even stopped kicking him out for the transition from pub to restaurant.  He just moved from a couch to a table near the end.  Which Iggy appreciated more than they probably realized.

He was out from under the beam and his legs were still there.  He wasn't sure how he managed to pull himself back while the man lifted the beam, but with the proper motivation, Iggy guessed anything was possible.  Except repairing his wand.  That wasn't possible and the realization left behind a pit in his stomach, unrelated to everything else that had happened that night.  Unrelated to the queasiness in his stomach.

The man crouched down again and talked to him.  Except this time, Iggy heard what he said.  His ears were still ringing, but he could at least hear enough to make out what the man had said this time.  He could have kissed him, if he hadn't felt like he was about to be sick.  He swallowed clearing his throat.  It still hurt from the screaming and probably the smoke.  "I think I can stand," he managed to get out.  They started to stand, well his rescuer started to stand, and Iggy did his best to hold on to him with his good arm while his broken arm hung painfully and uselessly at his side.  His legs at least seemed whole enough to take some of his weight, though just about every inch of them hurt.

Standing though brought on a wave of dizziness and before he was able to warn the man holding him upright, Iggy was vomiting, his stomach heaving its contents up through an already bruised and burning throat.  After a few more dry heaves, his stomach calmed down, though the dizziness hadn't subsided. "Sorry,"  Iggy said hoarsely, "Can we get out of here now?"  A question which normally accompanied a much better night.

Iggy almost started crying from relief at seeing the man approach through the smoke.  Well, he already had tears in his eyes from the smoke and the pain so it could also have just been that.  He wasn't sure and it probably didn't matter.  The man would save him and that would be that.  A healer would put him back together good as new.

But, the man crouched down to talk to him instead.  Where was the man's wand?  Why hadn't he just levitated the mess off of him.  The man said something, but Iggy still couldn't hear and he had never been able to read lips well.  Which normally just provided a bit of drunken fun with the band but today, stuck underneath part of a building, was suddenly frustrating.  But why didn't the man have his wand out. Was he being saved by a muggle?  Had the Leaky Cauldron and its enchantments been completely destroyed.

He had no problem with muggles.  Or even being saved by one.  He'd always been fascinated by one, but now magic was most definitely called for and none was to be found.  He could wait.  But the very thought of that set his heart beating faster and the pain in his arm came back to him.  He needed out. The man crouching over him looked fit enough.  Maybe he could get the beam off him.  Though it should probably worry him that he couldn't feel his legs under the beam, but he wasn't a healer and his arm and head hurt enough for all of him.

"Can you get that off my legs?"  Iggy said between coughs, his voice rough from smoke and the screaming.  "I can't move it and my wa--arm is broken."  As soon as he was out, he was going to pass out.  The healers wouldn't even have to give him some nasty concoction, he'd already decided.

Iggy had been having a drink, he remembered that.  What he didn't remember was the smoke.  Or the fire.  Or why he was on the ground.  He tried to sit up and collapsed back onto the floor.  He was sure that he screamed before he started coughing violently, but all he could hear was a high pitched ringing.

Laying still for  a moment, Iggy waited for the pain to subside before he turned his head to look at at his arm that wouldn't—couldn't be—moved.  He was no healer, but it was bad.  Arms weren't supposed to bend that way.  Not that ears were supposed to ring the way his were, nor were heads supposed to hurt like his was.  Something had happened.  Something he couldn't remember, but had left him in very bad shape.

He reached down to grab his wand from his pocket, thankfully it wasn't his wand arm that no longer bent in the proper direction.  Putting his hand in his pocket, he felt the beam across his thigh.   How'd he not feel that before.  And why didn't it hurt.  He grunted from the effort of pulling his wand out, and said the incantation to levitate the beam off of him.  He knew he wasn't going anywhere in a hurry, but he was suddenly in a rush to move.  He tried to push himself back, but he didn't move.  The beam was still firmly grounded, right on his legs.

He held his wand up to his face, gritting his teeth as the movement shifted his probably broken arm.  Half his wand was missing.  The end of a phoenix feather stuck from the middle, smoldering.  "HELP ME!  Someone—"cough"—help!"  He managed before he started coughing not sure if he was even making a sound for the ringing in his ears.  Then smoke cleared and he took in the pile of tables and furniture and beams that hadn't managed to crush him.  He'd have passed out then from the shear shock of it all, had a particularly bad cough not jerked his arm causing the pain to bring him back to the crushing reality of the situation that he found himself in.

When the woman, Claire it seemed, offered him one on the house, Iggy held back a comment that was less than polite.  He had after all been her test subject so a free necklace was certainly warranted.  But he tried not to make a habit of being rude to people who were about to give him something for free.  He caught the necklace she tossed to him.  It had a bat on it, not what he'd have chosen but it would do.

"I wasn't accusing you or anything.  Just the ring obviously has some issues."  He said as way of explanation for the comment about whether it worked or not.  "Iggy Prewett.  Pleasure to, well mostly a pleasure to meet you.  Knocks to the head aren't my preferred way of shopping but this," he held up the necklace, dangling from his hand, "is perfect for my aunt's birthday.  Which is perfect for me since I had no idea what I was going to get her."

Opening the bag with his earlier purchases, Iggy placed the necklace carefully inside.  "You got a shop with more stuff?"