Morning, Briefing Room.


Virgil lingered as his compatriots filed out after this morning's meeting about a small Brain Room project. This was one of the smaller briefing rooms on nine - a square space with a round table in the centre. At the centre of the table lay a crystal cube that projected images of various models when relevant. At present the cube was inactive, simply glowing with a white light that illuminated the glossy dark walls. Yavin was putting his folder away in a messenger bag.

            "What, aha, what's the matter sleepy boy?" he glanced up as Virgil approached.

The young wizard hesitated before reaching into his pocket for a long rectangular box wrapped in gold paper. "Happy Hanukkah." Virgil handed it over and mirrored the smile his mentor gave him upon accepting the gift. "And, hm, and a Merry Christmas to you."

Never one for formalities between them, Yavin peeled away the wrapping to reveal a leather case underneath. He flipped it open: a pair of transparent spectacles frames gleaned back from a next of purple silk. They glimmered with magic - enchanted for durability and protection. He took off his current frames and wore the new ones, blinking.

           "Ah.Thank you, Virgil."

"You're welcome." Virgil held his hands behind his back and eyed Yav a slightly more serious air. "There's actually something else I wanted to talk to you about. Before tomorrow's exorcism. I have an idea -" he saw the older man shoot him a curious look, "- and I know you're going to think it's an awful one but if you really think about it, maybe, just maybe it'll make it easier for Abby. Or Iona. Both of them."

Yavin slipped his old frames into his bag and faced Virgil properly. He held his hands in front of him, one wrist cradled loosely. Their eyes met and the mental barriers between them temporarily ceased to exist - both wizards had opened their doors to sit on the porch for a chat.

"No."  Yavin could feel the tension in his jaw, and he flexed it to relax.  "That is, ah, that is an extremely dangerous undertaking, Virgil." They were sat at the table now, chairs pushed out to face one another. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It isn't worth it."

            "I know the risks. I've talked to Tan, we've done it before, I've been working on the exorci-"

"You won't know the risks until you're on the other side," he interjected angrily, "and what the hell do you think I'm going to tell Edgar if you don't make it back?"

Virgil threw his hands into the air, exasperated. "I'm low-risk! The chances of me not coming back are minuscule if everything goes right, and nobody else is going to do it. I know Abby, I know Flower Girl. I know the Death Chamber. I want to do this."

Yavin stared at Virgil. Behind his new frames, his eyes were busy thinking. This had been one of the problems with coming to work on nine; he gave his protégé a certain amount of preference over the others but he was reluctant to let him do anything genuinely dangerous. He'd known Virgil since the boy was seven, for God's sake. Seen him grow up from snarky shy boy to... well, somewhat less snarky and less shy young man.

But he also knew it was possible. Objectively, Virgil could do this. His reasons were stupid and if they were very very lucky, Iona might not even accept the offer.

"If everything, hah, if everything goes right?" Yav echoed, rubbing the back of his head tiredly. "I'll think about it. But if we're doing this, Virgil," he gesticulated animatedly. "We're going to, hm, we're going to take every precaution. I mean it. No improvising, alright?"

Virgil Carstairs nodded once, pale and serious and patently scared in spite of himself. "No improvising. I promise."