Ever since that dastard memo from hell had rudely deposited itself on her desk, Skylar Carstairs had been a harbinger of bloody things to come wherever she went. It had been longer than a month and her mood hadn't improved in the least. Realizing her division was effectively in the negative on the books had further enraged the division head. At the department, at the ministry and the Minister herself—at the entire bloody world!

To soak everything in more misery, today was a Saturday. And she was at work. Apparently telling a middle-aged Veela whose husband had just ran off with a younger version of herself that was being evicted, was not something anybody should attempt to do. Hence the crisis on her hands.

First, appease the Veela. Then, appease the landlord. Eventually, possibly maim or almost lethally injure her incompetent handlers and negotiator. And, lastly: find that knob, Greenberg. Last she'd seen him, Skylar had sent him with an urgent memo up in Two, to require auror assistance, in case things got even more cocked-up than they were already were. In retrospect, however much she distrusted the inter-department memo system, she should've bloody well sent one, instead of Greenberg.

So Sky climbed into the lift dead set on writing murder. And murder, she wrote. Without even bothering to so much as wave, she stalked up to the first person and glared. "Twenty minutes ago I sent a complete waste of air up here, by the name of Greenberg, to request auror back-up for a Veela situation in Camden Lock on behalf of the Beings Division" she practically hissed, unnaturally ending with an actual growl. Her inner mountain lion was showing. "There's no auror yet, and the complete waste of space is not returned either" she finished, her eyebrows practically furrowing to cover her eyes. "Well?"

Rowan's own day was going better than Skylar's, but only marginally. She'd caught a lead on her case, but was now having to sludge through papers and misinformation to track down its source. A lead only did so much good if the trail ran cold. It seemed honestly like the whole Ministry of Magic was in a slump today, which never meant well for the Aurors.

It wasn't uncommon for Rowan and several of the other Aurors to work on a Saturday, instead taking a Monday or a Tuesday off. This way there was always at least one Auror on the scene should some type of emergency occur, which indeed happened more often than not.

Today however was dull and quiet, and Rowan tried to sooth her aggitated and bored nerves by drinking a cup of tea. And then another. And yet another. They made her more awake but other than that did nothing to change her current feeling of frustration.

She'd been about to see if coffee somehow had any magical remedies in store, when Skylar Carstairs stormed over to her desk, looking livid. Rowan had met Skylar once or twice before, but never for more than just a few minutes. "And good day to you too, Miss Carstairs," Rowan greeted dryly. "I regret to inform you that your assistant, as far as I'm aware, has not made an appearance. How can I help you?"

Skylar merely rolled her eyes and practically gritted her teeth at Tyren's greeting, a rather unspeakable retort on the tip of her tongue. Taking a long and steadying breath, Sky opened her eyes to glare at the auror. Raising a single jeerng eyebrow, she barely sketched a scowl, "Not in the mood", she deadpanned, blinking once.

Of course Greenberg hadn't even made it to his destination. He'd probably fallen off the bloody lift for all she knew. "Fuckin Greenberg" she muttered, almost pained. Taking another breath, she eventually returned her gaze upon Tyren and her face went into business mode almost immediately. "We've got a situation with a rather wrathful Veela. She didn't take to the news of being evicted very kindly, and things devolved into fire throwing quite fast. I've got only one handler on the scene, because I'm bloody understaffed—one's on maternity, my best lost a chunk of his leg to a demented hag of all things  and the others were unavailable for fuck knows what reasons" she explained, rubbing furiously at her own temple. "He's in over his head, is what he is"  she exhaled, finally.

"My negotiator is half a year into her job and currently panicking together with the idiotic landlord that started it all. Morgana help us all, they send us more and more idiots each year" she cursed, rolling hr eyes and letting out an almost sob. "The point is, I need someone to restrain, and I do bloody well mean restrain, not knock out or maim, or whatever else you people do here—" Skylar's opinion of the Aurory was not a good one, if it wasn't obvious by now. "While I talk to the woman and hopefully calm her the hell down before she incinerates someone" she sighed long and looked to the ceiling as if asking for strength.

"She's barricaded herself in the apartment and threatened to burn the whole building down, unless she's left alone."

Rowan's brows arched as she watched Skylar suck in a breath, annoyance rolling off the witch in waves. Rowan decided it would be wise to not push the other woman anymore. "Of course, apologies," she replied, in the most neutral tone she could muster.

Rowan was mildly curious about who this Greenberg was that Carstairs was currently cursing about, but she figured it was safer to as another Auror, and not her current companion. At the words "wrathful Veela" Rowan let out a groan, unable to keep her unhappiness contained within her. She was no fan of Veelas, they tended to be stuck up, deceitful and bloody difficult to deal with all around.

"The Ministry really isn't doing you any favors, are they?' Rowan asked lightly, though it was a rather rhetorical question. She knew Carstairs department constantly suffered from being understaffed.

"Alright, alright," Rowan said quickly, as it looked like Skylar was on the verge of tears, or perhaps of murdering someone, and neither action sounded wise to Rowan. "I'll do my best to restrain this Veela, I certainly don't intend to maim anyone. Not if I can help it anyway," Rowan added, because this Veela sounded particularly unpleasant to deal with.

If a vein actually throbbed at her temple at the auror's kind remark about the state of her job and her division and the bloody ministry, Skylar really couldn't be held accountable for the violent images that were going through her head. One of these days - she supposed rather soon, given she'd be a owing a darn favor to her- she was going to take Tyren out for a pint. Or a dozen. Each. Sky certainly had enough to drink about, she supposed the auror did too. And they'd either end up in a bar fight or spilling their life stories to each other and possibly dancing on the bar. She was equally terrified by either.

Her anyway was met with glowering on Sky's part. If looks could murder, Skylar Carstairs would be on death row. She wasn't very familiar with Rowan Tyren in her auror capabilities, so Sky couldn't help a long moment of silence accompanied by a skeptical expression. "Are you sure you can handle this? And on you own? Dealing with angered -no, worse, scorned- Veelas, is not a walk in the park, even for seasoned handlers" she squinted her eyes at Tyren and frowned.

She remembered her from Hogwarts; a few years ahead, same year as the Boy-Wonder, Ravenclaw, bit of an air-head. Skylar was growing more and more skeptical.

Rowan met Skylar's sceptical gaze with a frigid one of her own. "Miss Carstairs, I can assure you that I can handle this. I have been an Auror for seven years, I've dealt with Veelas before. No, it is not enjoyable, but is it manageable? Certainly. I've seen worse than an enraged Veela," Rowan informed her of all of this with ice in her eyes, though the tone of her voice was pleasant enough. She didn't need someone younger than her questioning her abilities in her career.

Rowan remembered Skylar less than Skylar most likely remembered her, given that Carstairs was younger than her. The younger woman had been in Slytherin, and very much out of Rowan's scope of focus.

"I realize that things are stressful here, I know they are. Everyone can feel it. But that doesn't mean we should allow ourselves to give into frustration or doubt. You do your job and I'll do mine.  Is that acceptable?"

Sky blinked slowly at Tyren's... fired up response. She could respect that in a person, their strength in their own capabilities. But then again idiots thought themselves geniuses and mentally deranged people never imagined they had a problem.

She had no way of verifying her skills and capabilities at the moment, anyway, so she'd have to make do with what was available. Her lips curled into an amused sort of smile and she nodded, almost as if apologizing for daring to question her worth.

"Yes, I suppose everything'd fine and dandy, Auror Tyren" she said, keeping the snort that wanted to escape in check. "Very well, then, if you could plea—"

"Err... Head Ca—Carstairs?"

Skylar's voice ended abruptly as her face slowly, ever so slowly, took a violent turn for menacing and downright murderous. That whimpering voice would haunt her for the rest of times. Greenberg. Turning around, with her entire body a stiff line she set her eyes on him and blinked. The sodding fool was dripping wet and looking like he'd fallen in a bloody toilet.

"I—I got... lost? And, uh, it's kind'a raining in Three?"

There were about ten steps between her and her doorknob of an intern. With a clam, yet lethal glare she started shortening the distance between them and by the time she'd reached Greenberg, she was on four legs, light tan coat and a pair of piercing gray-green eyes. She could smell his fear oozing off on him, and as he took a a few steps to run from the danger he fell on his ass and Skylar's growling was growing ever more menacing. When there was nowhere left to go, Greenberg closed his eyes and turned his face to the side. Putting a big strong paw in the middle of his chest, Sky shrieked at him and then turned around to walk nervously back and forth.

Well... this hadn't happened in a while.

Rowan watched Sky blink slowly at her, as if still sizing her up. Well, it was hardly Rowan's concern. Carstairs could either take her or leave her, it was no skin off Rowan's nose. If Skylar was too skeptical to take Rowan's offer of help, then she could deal with that veela alone and Rowan would return to her work on the Werewolf kidnappings.

"Glad to hear it," Rowan replied, though she couldn't help the bit of sarcasm that dripped from her voice when she answered Carstairs.

The other woman's next words were cut off by someone from behind them stuttering nervously. Rowan turned, though more quickly than Skylar. The poor young man was trembling, his voice breaking repeatedly. But Skylar looked livid, so he must have been an abomination of an intern. Rowan was more than happy to let Carstairs deal with him...Until the other witch turned into a panther that is.

"O...kay, let's all just calm down," Rowan urged gently, hesitantly approaching Greenberg and the transformed Carstairs.

The mountain-lion started growling menacingly, as Tyren made to approach, leaning on its back paws, ears flattening against its skull. But it took a sniff of Greenberg's increasingly raising panic and the subsequent whimper to finally shake it off. As soon as the growling stopped, Sky was back on two feet, looking murderous for all intents and purposes. With a huff she balled her hands into fists and took a long breath, eyes closed and mind empty of everything.

"I swear to Merlin, Greenberg, if it weren't for your father I'd have you hanged by your balls by now" she exhaled, in  an eerily calm tone. "Go... dry yourself off or—whatever and owl Banks with those reports and then, please, for the love of everything... Go. Home" she grunted through gritting teeth and once the gormless knob had dashed off in a flurry she turned to face Tyren.

"Sorry about that" she dead-panned, no trace of apology in her voice. "I haven't slept in three days" she offered as explanation. Truthfully she had been postponing a run for too long now. Something like this was bound to happen... "So, shall we meet there or do you want to apparate together?"