@classicalcassiopeia @elizabeth-graham @am-graves
Your offer is appreciated, Delgado, but I think that any - corrective action needs to come from me. They’re not going to respect the sanctity of paperwork if you step in. And besides, the paperwork issue is fairly easily fixed.
I’m just going to stop correcting them, and pointing out their errors so they can fix their work.
I think they will learn to respect paperwork in short order.
In a month, when their paychecks fail to show up because they didn’t fill the forms out properly and they submitted their work days late. In two weeks, when they come under investigation from Internal Affairs because they misfiled the critical requests sent from one department to another and never responded to the messages marked ‘URGENT’. In a week, when they fail to show up in time for briefings, for training, for meals because they didn’t read the memo describing when and where all of the above was to occur.
In twenty-four hours, when they’re slammed in a holding cell under suspicion of infiltration and impersonation because their access has been revoked, because they didn’t adhere to security procedures, because they fucking misdid the forms.
They’ll damn well start doing their work right then.
No, what I’m worried about is that if they’re that incompetent in something that calls for attention to fine detail they’re going to get themselves fucking killed in the field - where that sort of thing can literally be the difference between life and death. If they’re that overconfident, that unwilling to pay attention to a senior auror (wait, am I still a senior auror? Technically, Grindelfuck was the one who promoted me - now I just feel dirty) they’re signing their own fucking death warrants. I know they’re rookies and a certain number of mistakes is to be anticipated, but I don’t want to have to be the one to process those bits of paperwork.
Thus, my plan of going full-blown Morgana on them.
Scaring ‘em straight is an oldie but goodie.
Current plan is to show up at the office in full war gear - the heels, the coat, jewelry, the works, you know, all the stuff that shows I Mean Business - and let them know that I’m going to be working on something and am not to be disturbed.
And that’s when I dip my hands in ashes, don tattered black robes, take off my shoes, weave my hair into a tangled snarl of strands, charm my eyes pure pitch black, apply an echo-reverb to my voice, and don and Amulet of Issola - it’s sort of a magnet for shadows, makes ‘em reach out towards you.
Knowing those idiots, they’ll barge in on me in short order - I think they’re convinced that I’m all bark and no bite. At which point in time I fake a catastrophic ritual failure due to the interruption, and then emerge from the smoke and fucking go after them. At a dead walk, of course.
…I don’t suppose you could keep me appraised for when the morons head to my the Ritual Chambers, please?