25th November, 1894 — Brain Room, Department of Mysteries

On her best days Marlena liked to think she was getting somewhere at the Ministry.

True, she occupied the same desk she had since her internship had ended; and also true she had no chance of getting on any time soon, but her ability to judge those around her was coming on leaps and bounds.

Unfortunately, that also meant she was developing a deeper awareness of when she had done something that would piss someone off. As a result she found herself peering around the side of the enormous tank in the brain room at Emilia Moony with an attempt at apology on her face.

“I really am sorry about the crack,” she began. Emilia wasn’t her superior per say, but she was her senior, so she felt she really out to show her the same measure of respect she did Miss Foxglove. “But the brains were getting agitated about something so I had to stun them.”

Of course this now left them with a partially leaking tank that contained just short of two dozen listing brains, but that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was that there should have been two dozen precisely.

Emilia Moony | Cassius Lestrange

  

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MJ: still raising the graphics bar as of 2022

Emilia was not paid to supervise the junior staff, and was increasingly aware of this fact as the years rolled on. So when she looked at the not-water seeping out of the brain tank, and the half-apology on Miss Scamander's face, she had an impulse to tell Scamander that this was Foxglove's problem.

But as she looked at the brains, Emilia heard a vague squelching sound. She looked at Miss Scamander, her eyes widened. "How many got out?" she asked — and took another step into the room. Not paid to supervise or not — this one was going to be interesting.

  

Looking between the tank and the other woman Lena considered lying, but doubted that would make the situation any better. She was in deep enough as it was and still, largely because she didn’t especially enjoy feeling a fool in front of her colleagues, Lena weighed the possibility.

Not worth it. At least it was Moony, rather than Foxglove. A long sigh was preferable to a piercing stare and the sense that she had thrown up in her mouth.

“Just the one-” Lena said thoughtfully, as though the calculation had taken her some time. A cursory glance around the room told her what she was afraid of – the brain had slipped through the crack of the tank without her noticing, and, without Moony noticing apparently, had vanished from the room. “I was hoping I might have miscounted,” she deadpanned.

  

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MJ: still raising the graphics bar as of 2022

Emilia's mouth twisted in an approximation of a frown. The brains could be hostile — actually, Emilia would describe hostile as their default — and neither of them wanted the things cavorting around the floor. But the floor was better than the alternative — she hadn't heard the elevator ding since this morning, and while the things could squish about with some dexterity, she didn't fancy its chances of getting into and up the stairwell. But the lift —

"We have to fix the crack and lock the lift," Emilia said. And because, if this was happening, it may as well be a learning experience for someone — "Which one do you fancy doing yourself?"

  

“The lift,” Lena said, even as she moved around the other woman, flexing her fingers around her wand like a prize-fighter readying herself for a skirmish. The brains were dangerous, she had been told upon her initial induction and though Lena had yet to see the extent of their scope for destruction she didn’t especially want to find out.

She opened the door Moony had not long come through and immediately felt something squelchy fly by her face and miss. It was a tentacle, rather than the full brain, but Marlena still found herself too absorbed in looking at the oddity outside of the glass cabinet to properly react.

She did so only when it flipped towards her, like an oily whip crack, and slashed her across the cheek.

That was funny. Had Moony always had such elongated ears?

  

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MJ: still raising the graphics bar as of 2022

Scamander would handle the lift. Emilia put her hands on her hips and contemplated the tank — she was going to have to get the liquid back in the tank before she fixed the crack, but how to do so without agitating the brains? Emilia pulled her wand out of her pocket and had just about settled on the first spell to cast when something slimy and sharp landed on her neck.

She wheeled, frantically, towards Miss Scamander — there was a cut bleeding from Scamander's cheek — but did not scream, because she didn't want to agitate it further. A well-placed thought, but one that was entirely cut off by the sparks that shot from her wand.

  

Marlena was reasonably sure that the floor must be moving of its own accord because her feet didn’t seem capable and yet the room positively span. She felt much as though she had overindulged in whiskey. And as though someone had turned her fingers to carrots.

She vaguely registered that the brain was on Moony now, though it had not strictly speaking been on her, but could not think what to do to help. Unless…

Grasping at her wand – with her definitely carroty fingers – Lena flicked her wand at the brain and tried a stinging jinx. That would show it, she thought, as she tripped over her feet and fell to the ground.

  

Emilia had just enough time to register that she was likely about to get clocked by a stinging jinx before the stinging jink hit the brain. It released from her neck and slid down Emilia's robes, scuttling away. Emilia sat down heavily on the floor, pressing her back against the tank. She could feel welts forming on her neck.

After a beat, she called, "Scamander?" because she was probably obligated to ensure that the younger Unspeakable was alive.

  

Slumped on the ground Marlena could not quite summon the energy required to lift her head off the ground but she made an obliging grunt at the mention of her name. The brain had done something to her, this much she knew, but anything beyond that was a mystery.

Which was the point to be fair.

Lena giggled suddenly. Mystery upon mystery upon mystery - whatever the brains were for, and she had never been quite sure, they were making her feel quite delightful. Perhaps that was their purpose?

“My brains,” she moaned quietly.

  

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MJ: still raising the graphics bar as of 2022