To: Division Head, Being Div. DRCMC
From: Blood Bank, St Mungo’s Hospital
Date: February 15, 2011 9 o'clock
Sir,
Reserves Critically Low
This past weekend our supplies were subject to improper storage due to an accident and became tainted. A significant proportion of supplies were disposed of on discovery.
It is likely we will not have enough in reserve to meet demand to the end of the month. Urgent assistance required to encourage additional donations…
A cold drip of dread crept down the back of his neck as he read the memo for a second time. There was enough talk of blood in the Ministry that morning given last night’s revelations for Level Two, and now Cepheus was faced with a severe shortage. He dropped the paper to his desk, fingertips reaching for his neck almost as if it were at risk of long fangs that very moment and then ran through his thick dark hair as his mind considered the situation.
The explanation of an accident was vague. Cepheus had visited the blood bank just over a fortnight before.
[1] It wasn’t the most well loved section of the hospital - the invention of blood replenishment potion and the likes had reduced a human need for such donations, but it wasn’t the sort of place one expected a significant accident to occur. The circumstances could be clearer, certainly specific. Either way, it could be resolved at the same time as restocking. But to do that, he had to weigh up the consequences of promoting donation to counter a crisis.
Through the half-open door of his office came the hubbub of Level Four on a Tuesday morning, and a further fluttering pink memo. Cepheus watched it nest in the top of his in-tray with several more and considered his staff numbers outside. No better day to lead by example, encourage his colleagues to join him at St Mungo’s. Rustle up a press release…
“Another of those howlers…”Ceph jumped ever so slightly at the short figure who walked brazenly into his modest little office carrying his post. His position hadn’t come with a cool, calm secretary to rival Balfour’s infamous
Mrs Lanningham. Being unafraid of paperwork, and a generally organised sort, Cepheus had taken on a squib of age to deal with the basic administration. She was the daughter of someone on seven, could spell, add up three figure numbers in her head satisfactorily and tell the time. She was also a lot cheaper to fund than a more qualified secretary, and he was too soft to say no when he was asked…
“Door…” Ceph sighed gently, memo still between his fingertips.
”Right, yeah… so do you want me to burn this one?”“No, I’ll deal with it later-"
”You surrre, it’s smoking pretty badly, like-”“
Later."
His fingers creased the edge of the memo clasped in both hands and her head snapped up, paying full attention. His first ideas were never his best.
“Please rearrange my meeting at half past ten, I need to go to St Mungo’s."
”You get in a fight with your date or something, you got bruises up your ar-““No-“ Ceph winced, a blush rising to his cheeks as he realised he’d rolled his sleeves up ahead of tackling his paperwork, “- on urgent official business."
Thank goodness the previous night’s business
[2] was perceived to the innocent eye as something so simple.
Should have seen the other two… Ceph thought as he awkwardly rolled his shirtsleeves down.
[Feb 15] Blood & Bruises [Snapshot]