July 23th, 1895 — Ministry of Magic Atrium

Killian didn't like Dempsey. Unfortunately, he had actually grown to like Morwenna Skeeter, to his own surprise, over his time in the department while she'd run it. So much so that he hadn't sought her position like a vulture when she'd announced her retirement. He probably could've gotten it, too. He certainly had the tenure with the department — Merlin, he'd started with the department before Morwenna had even ascended to the position of department head (for the record, he hadn't liked Algernon Rowle much, thinking the man too severe).

He felt...betrayed. On a personal level. What if she had been the one — no, that made no sense. His sister's family had been in a different part of the country. His brother-in-law had died alone in the woods.

Killian took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to have an outburst of rage here in the atrium. No, no it certainly wouldn't. He was doing so well. He hadn't lost control in so long. His place of employment would not be the right place to lose it.

Instead, he sighed. "Why'd it have to be her?" he grumbled, as he made his way across the atrium.

  

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Killian notably walks with a limp, relying heavily on his polished walking stick for support

Jonah had been on edge ever since Mrs. Skeeter had revealed herself to be a werewolf and the resulting aftermath. Namely, the notice in the paper a couple of days ago that would require him to work on premises during the full moon. Which... he would not be able to do. He had to go about the motions while they figured out how to get him out of it so he had come to work.

He was supposed to meeting a coworker in the atrium to grab a breaktime meal together and so he had his pocket watch out. It helped to fiddle with it as well. "I'm sorry? Were you speaking to me?" Jonah asked brightly, his thumb running over the rounded edges of his pocket watch as he focused on the older man. He couldn't be sure, he had not been fully in tune with his surroundings and it was going to be embarrassing no matter if the man had been or not. So might as well own it, the question had already passed his lips anyway.

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Killian's gaze snapped up. He had been about to fully snap at the taller, younger man, when he realized exactly who it was. Jonah McKelvey. Merlin, he remembered the day the younger man had started in the Beast Division. It had been a shock to the system — the way he spoke, the way he fiddled with his pocket watch (like he was doing now)...if Killian didn't know better, he'd swear he was looking into his own memories. Memories of Silas. At least he wasn't one of Killian's direct subordinates. At least he didn't see him every minute of the day.

Taking a steadying breath, Killian eased his tone, and put on a smile — only slightly strained. It was always just a little painful to speak to Mr. McKelvey. "No, I suppose I may as well have been," he said. "No use talking to myself, after all. I was...musing, I suppose, on the mess involving Mrs. Skeeter. I respected her, and she reveals this?" He huffed, shaking his head in disappointment.

Jonah McKelvey

  

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Killian notably walks with a limp, relying heavily on his polished walking stick for support

Jonah vaguely recognized the other man as being a superior in another department. He had never spoken to him all that much aside from work-related things he had been sent to the Being department for back when he had been in the general Beasts department.

Oh. The man had been muttering about Mrs. Skeeter. "Do you no longer respect her because she is a werewolf or because she hid it?" He asked curiously, wondering which it might be. What would his coworkers think of him if they ever found out... if he never showed up for the August lock in?

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"For concealing it," Killian said bluntly. "Werewolves may not be any more dangerous than you or I all the time, but they are extremely dangerous during the full moon; how can we know any unregistered werewolf is being kept safely captive?" He took a deep breath, shaking his head in a disappointed fashion, and tightened his grip on the pommel of his walking stick. "While I will grant that our society is unkind to werewolves, I believe it is on the fault of the unregistered members of their population — after all, why trust someone who lies about their very nature?"

Jonah McKelvey

  

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Killian notably walks with a limp, relying heavily on his polished walking stick for support