September 6th, 1895 — The Streets of Swallowbury
Mateo Sutherland

"Yes, Miss, I would advise that you and your son head to your cousin's house in London until further notice." Ned confirmed as he spoke to a woman who held a squirming toddler in her arms at one of the doors they'd knocked upon. "More information will be made available once the ministry understands the breadth of the situation and--"

"Agatha, do not listen to this child."

Up the road marched a gentleman of an unknown, yet ancient age whose floppy hat appeared as if it threatened to slide right off his head. He wore a rather strange mixture of clothing as if he'd just been vomited out of a copy of One Thousand and One Nights and then tripped into A Midsummer Night's Dream. The whole ensemble was made even more zany by puff of thinning, unruly red hair on his head. Ned's head tipped comically to the side as he tried to fully take in the man, but, before anything could be said, the elder began shouting again.

"We will not be going anywhere! The Wimblebottoms stand strong." The daughter looked as if she were about to protest, but she was cut off. "Ever since magic graced our bloodline it has been naught but trouble! But did we run? NO! Not even when your sister set the house ablaze as a toddler. Us Wimblebottoms do not flee danger. Why back in my day, we'd sail straight into a tempest without a single thought! Why we would--"

It seemed the man would just continue prattling on unless stopped, and Ned's rather polite interruptions weren't doing the trick. Agatha, for her part, appeared embarrassed.

"Sir, I am unsure you truly grasp the gravity of the situation..."

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   Mateo Sutherland

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Pretties by Bee <3 <3

Well, Mateo had not had "Magical Mist in Muggle Town" on his le lotto card for 1895, but was he surprised? Absolutely not.

He was prepared to take a step back out of his current role and help out in whatever way possible however and that meant mobilizing with the rest of the department to start helping people relocate away from the mist itself. Once they'd been debriefed and sent out, he kept an eye on his trainees, though they seemed to be doing fine, for the most part. This was a good test of their people skills. While not strictly necessary (just look at Selwyn), Mateo thought it good for them to practice interacting with the public, especially during a crisis.

He was finishing up at a home across the street, helping the young couple and their dog get their necessities before pointing them toward the queue of people moving toward safety, when he finally came upon Moony the youngest, getting an earful from a gentleman who clearly thought age came before wisdom.

"Mr. Wimblebottom, nobody is accusing you of cowardice. We, the Ministry of Magic," he motioned to the insignia on his robes. "Are requiring you to relocate for safety until the space had been cleared habitable once more." Mateo said it with a pleasant smile on his face and a long-practiced tone that hopefully left little room for argument. "Look at your beautiful family," he held out a hand to the young woman with a child in her arms on the threshold of the home. "Surely you do not want to put them in danger unnecessarily?" He schmoozed.

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