12 September, 1893 — Dempsey Estate

Oz had been involved in more debates than most people. He had never engaged in a formally structured debate, though, and he wasn't sure what level of preparation was appropriate.

"Could I use Fitzroy Prewett as an example of Ministry nepotism?" he asked the room writ large, as he thumbed through his notes. "He'd be a good sport about it, I think." The pun was unintentional, but amusing. He scribbled it down in a margin for later: Prewett — G&S — good sport.

He was looking over his answer to a question he was almost certain to be asked: what makes you qualified? He had already answered this in a dozen different ways, of course, but one thing he had learned during this campaign was that the voting public had no imagination.

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Open to: Dempseys, friends of Oz who might help him prep, (spies who pretend to be friends??), friends of Dempseys who might be around.

  

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MJ is the light of my life <3

Christabel had been quietly observing her brother's campaign preparations, intrigued by his foray into politics. As Ozymandias discussed his approach to addressing the issue of Ministry nepotism, she couldn't help but interject, sharing her thoughts with a tone of authority. She believed that Ozymandias had the qualities necessary for leadership and didn't want to see him stumble over a misstep in his campaign.

"No!" she responded with a definitive air, her voice carrying a sense of wisdom. "People like Prewett, if you target him directly, you'll come across as petty and weak," she advised, leaning in slightly to emphasize her point. "Keep it vague—imply the nepotism without naming names. Trust me, everyone will immediately think of the person they dislike, and you won't estrange anyone."

Christabel's perspective was one of practicality and a deep understanding of political dynamics, even if she did think so herself. As perhaps the most overtly political animal within the Daphnel clan she considered herself quite the authority.

  

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I am my mother's savage daughter, The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones

I am my mother's savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
MJ made glory

Oz frowned. "I was aiming for a quip. Quips don't land if they're vague." Humor was the best way to respond to this question, he'd decided, because he did not want to imply he took the criticism of unqualified too seriously, but he did certainly need to answer it. He shifted his weight, leaning on his elbow as he adjusted the parchment to see earlier notes.

"It's about the question of qualifications," he said. He did not think he needed to explain more; everyone in the family had been questioned on this almost as often as he had. "But try this, maybe: 'Being employed' is not sufficient qualification to lead the country, nor is a particular position — not when promotions are earned as often by one's last name as by merit." He glanced at her for her reaction.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

Christabel, though, had a different idea in mind. "Better," she began, her tone thoughtful, "perhaps something about ministry men being part of the system, one wouldn't hire a part of the engine to drive the train?"

Her metaphor aimed to drive home the point that hiring individuals closely tied to the existing system might not lead to the changes people were looking for. It was a clever way to address the question of qualifications while keeping the humor intact.

  

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I am my mother's savage daughter, The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones

I am my mother's savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
MJ made glory

Oz nodded thoughtfully, considering his notes. If Christabel had tried to give him advice about something he was doing in another context he would have met her recommendation with derision, even if he secretly thought it a good one, but the stakes were too high for that. He could go back to engaging in blind antagonism for the fun of it after October 19th.

"I like that," he pronounced, and scribbled down a few notes to that effect: don't hire engine; conductor. He glanced over it and added conductor (of train) — it was probably clear enough without it but he had so much in his mind at the moment that he didn't entirely trust himself to not get confused over his own notes later if they were vague. "You don't think that will alienate all the Ministry voters, if I compare them to machinery? It's a nice metaphor but a little dehumanizing, if they're paying attention."

That was a rather large if; most people did not have the Dempsey family training on recognizing and interpreting symbolism, he knew. One of his broader concerns with preparing for the debate (or any public forum generally) was that what he said would be too smart for half the people listening, and would go straight over their heads as a result.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

Christabel leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed on her brother as he considered her suggestion. Ozymandias was known for his quick wit and sharp tongue, even if the rest of the Dempsey clan believed that they were all the wittiest.

When he mentioned his concerns about alienating Ministry voters with the metaphor, Christabel began, her voice thoughtful. "You can emphasize that they are important, and their work is vital to the functioning of the Ministry. But what you're really highlighting is the value of their experience and skills in their current roles."

She continued, her eyes meeting his with a reassuring gaze. "You, by contrast, represent the addition of new skills, someone who can get the best out of the skills that are already there. It's not about devaluing their contributions; it's about recognizing the need for fresh perspectives and leadership to ensure that their skills are put to the best possible use, not creating a vacuum within current ministry departments."

Christabel's words were carefully chosen to address Ozymandias's concerns while framing his campaign message in a more inclusive and constructive light. She believed that conveying this perspective effectively during the debate would help him appeal to a broader audience, even those who might initially be wary of change, the Dempsey name appealing to the old guard

  

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I am my mother's savage daughter, The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones

I am my mother's savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
MJ made glory

Oz listened thoughtfully as his sister spoke, while still glancing over his notes. Christabel had proven more and more valuable as a resource throughout the campaign. If left to her own devices she would probably have been more radical by half than he had proven to be, but even putting that all aside, she approached these sorts of things with the right sort of mindset. She may never have been in politics before or even voted before, but she had certainly been paying attention; she seemed to understand the way the political machine worked in a way that his other siblings had never even attempted to.

"Alright, that's all fine," he agreed. He hadn't seen any other places to change his notes, but he thought her framing was useful and he would try to pull from it while he went through all the other points he'd written down. "What's the next hardest question they're likely to ask me?"

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MJ is the light of my life <3

Christabel leaned back in the chair, one foot up on a footstool, pulling at strands of her hair in contemplation. She was really rather proud of her big brother for committing himself to his.

'For you... she mused aloud, her head tilted back, staring at the carved ceiling rose. 'they may want to ask you, why you've never shown an interest in politics before...' it was a slightly awkward, and something of an elephant in the room. ' which does beg the question as to why now?'

  

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I am my mother's savage daughter, The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones

I am my mother's savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
MJ made glory

Oz wrinkled his nose at her, then decided this expression was insufficient to show his disdain for the question and instead found a small couch cushion to throw her direction. "Everyone acts as if they only way to express an interest in something is to chain oneself to a desk for eight hours a day in pursuit of it," he complained. "Anyone who's ever spoken to me knows I have shown an interest in politics. I've never been disinterested in politics," he continued. Sure, he'd been dismissive of particular issues in the past. He was dismissive of some issues now, but not because he was disinterested — rather because he didn't think they merited any serious attention. To be fair, as a younger man he'd put women's suffrage in that category — a nice philosophical exercise if one was bored, but not a serious question as it seemed so unlikely that anything would ever be done about it — but the ongoing protests had changed his mind on that front.

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MJ is the light of my life <3

I agree with you brother, but that will be what many assume - the last few ministers have all come from that pedigree. she reminded him, 'It might be best to remind them that just there is no need to work for the machine of government in order to lead it.' she noted, 'I hate to bring in muggle government but it is not uncommon for men to join the commons with no experience at all before they were Mps.

Part of her burned with envy, how she wanted to be part of that sphere of influence, and as much as she opinions and interests, she knew she lacked the family connections and personality to become minister for magic herself. No she was better as the power behind a throne, but that did not mean she did not wish that that world was open to her.

'It is not me you must convince Ozymandias,' Christabel mused, 'You might put together a list of people who might be able to speak about your interest in politics, we can work out how to deploy the information, if a few well placed rumours from them might get ahead of that question.' Christabel checked her fob watch, just as the grandfather clock sounded in the hall. 'You must forgive me for abandoning you, I owe our mother tea! she stood, and placed the sheet of roughly written notes she had been making onto the small writing desk. 'I'm not staying for dinner, but if you send me an owl I can meet you tomorrow...with your homework done.' she said with a smile.

She gave her brother a peck on the check, and with an airy wave she hurried to her mother parlour for their scheduled tea.

  

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I am my mother's savage daughter, The one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones

I am my mother's savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice
MJ made glory