#and since my new (relatively new) front door does not have a peep hole the camera is my best way for checking who is out there now

[starstruckpurpledragon]

So I had two package deliveries yesterday I'm annoyed about for different reasons.

First one was two books delivered in a soft 'insulated' packet type package, not a box. Which meant both were damaged because of the deliberately poor packaging choices. The first of the two books was only lightly damaged, minor cosmetic issues. Slightly crinkled corner that affects about a third of the pages but not super noticeable. The second of the two books had majorly bent pages to the point I was worried the seam of the bend was going to tear loose if not reinforced and the spine itself was damaged so badly that I was concerned that it would take very little use for the book to fall apart completely.

I don't mind the condition of the first book, but the second one? These are meant to be new books and that second one is in awful condition. I was able to get a free return/replacement option so hopefully the second delivery attempt will be packaged better and the book won't get partially destroyed in transit again.

The second delivery was in a box so what was inside was fine. So the packaging was not the problem here. The problem was that it apparently sat out in front of my house for a few hours with me unaware it was there because they left it halfway up the walkway up to my house. They did not bring it to the porch or ring the doorbell or follow anything remotely like the delivery instructions. If I hadn't eventually gotten the 'hey we delivered this, see the picture???' confirmation emails, it might have stayed out there over night.

My doorbell doesn't always work, but I've got a camera on my porch that I depend on to let me know when I've got a delivery or mail has arrived or my door dash order is here or that the person who just rang the doorbell/knocked is a solicitor I don't wanna talk to. (Or a girl scout selling cookies with her dad and I need to go grab my wallet on the way to the door to support the local troop.) So having a package essentially be barely delivered to my house is kind of annoying and definitely is too far from the porch to trigger the camera. And while this would have been a mild annoyance to me normally, it really annoyed me so much more coming on the heels of the packaging screw up resulting in a damaged book.

[everdreamts-blog]

  Wyatt hadn’t been sure what to expect from any of this.   The job offer had come so out of the blue that he’d needed a good two weeks to come to a proper decision, and only because his dreams had shown him he’d be relatively happy with the change. Getting into the police academy had been tough and draining, so a part of him couldn’t help but question just how much throwing that away for a place in an organization that calls itself “Supernatural Control Force” would be worth.   Great salary and a new apartment he wouldn’t have to pay for aside.   But Jihoon had been ecstatic immediately, and, well. As the only person intimately acquainted with all things supernatural, he had been – and still is – his best bet.

  It’s still difficult, wrapping his head around this great, earth-shattering revelation. His dreams are more frequent now, or maybe he’s simply more aware of them after waking up instead of dismissing them the moment he opens his eyes. Mundane, everyday snippets, like Jihoon dropping his favorite mug and proceeding to wallow in sadness all day over it, or Lysander coming over with a baggie full of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. Before being told about his powers as a seer, Wyatt had always chalked those off as gut-feelings. Intuition.   Heaving a sigh, he trails his eyes up the skyscraper Jihoon dragged him to. An endless expanse of boring grey, broken up by white-framed windows. On the wall next to its double-wide entrance door hangs a plaquet, plain silver with black lettering. “GoldLeaf Networks Inc.,” it reads. Wyatt furrows his brows.   “Are you sure this is the right place?”   Jihoon comes up behind him, humming in that too-enthusiastic way of his. “There’s a glamour here. The SCF is very secretive.”   “Glamour?” Wyatt turns. “Whatever that is.”   “Just,” Jihoon says as he taps a finger against the plaquet, “look closely. You’ll see it.”   Wyatt is all but ready to turn around and change his mind, but he indulges Jihoon. He’s been doing that far too often lately. Squinting his eyes, he leans in, staring at the plaquet. Nothing happens. He stares a little harder, focusing on the letters, their crisp outlines and bland font.   The letters begin to flicker, to warp, rearranging themselves, multiplying, changing forms.   Wyatt stumbles back, his heart in his throat. “Supernatural Control Force, Seoul subdivision,” the plaquet now reads, “est. 1704.”   Jihoon grins. “See? That’s a glamour. It keeps curious eyes away. If you’re not magical or a supe, you can’t see through it.”   “Holy shit.”   Grin fixed on his face, Jihoon walks past him and pushes the door open, motioning for him to step inside. The inside is spacious, as expected from a lobby of a building this size. Warm lights line the window-covered walls, though the main light source is a plethora of sleek, circle-shaped lamps, holes in their middles and varying in size, all over the ceiling. The only two walls not covered in windows are the one all the way on the other side of the lobby, lined with a row of elevators instead, and the one all the way to the right, the reception desk sitting in front of it. In the middle of the lobby, surrounded by various plants, a waiting area has been lowered into the floor, black leather couches and armchairs, metal end tables topped with stacks of magazines, and a water cooler, gurgling every now and then.   Jihoon heads straight to the reception desk. He lacks all wonder and excitement Wyatt expected to see from him, faced with a sight such as this. He must have been here before.   The woman behind the reception desk looks up from her book, her ruby-red lips a harsh line. “Do you have an appointment?”   “Sorta,” Jihoon replies, something sheepish in his tone, “we’re here to see Lee Junsu.”   The woman makes a noise, slightly disgruntled. She marks her page in her book and sets it aside to rummage in one of her drawers. “Names?”   “Oh Jihoon and Wyatt Lyles.”   She takes two plastic cards out of the drawer, both of which read “Visitor” in bold, capital letters. After typing something on her keyboard, her printer spits out a set of stickers, glinting gold. She peels them off and sticks one each on the cards, pressing them down with a slight hitch in her brow, before handing the cards to Jihoon. “He’ll be with you shortly.” With a vague gesture towards the waiting area, she dismisses them, going back to her reading.   “What was that about?” Wyatt asks, following Jihoon to one of the couches. Jihoon hands him his card.   “Visitor passes. There’s a lot of security stuff in this building. You can’t enter some areas without a pass like this or being an employee.”   “Sounds very… non-magical.”   Jihoon snickers. “Part of it is. Sometimes, the human way works best.”   As too many things lately, Jihoon’s answer is just cryptic enough that it leaves Wyatt unsatisfied. He bounces his right leg up and down, letting his eyes flit about the premise. It’s so… normal. So inconspicuous. Modern and no doubt expensive, yes. But not at all what he thought a place like this might look like. There are no magicked items floating in the air, no people appearing out of thin air and fire places, no owls carrying letters and parcels. Harry Potter, as it turns out, is a big, fat lie.   He fiddles with his card instead of ruminating on how media cleverly managed to deceive him. Sturdy but not heavy, it’s a little like the library card he’d owned as a kid. The sticker the woman behind the desk printed out is some kind of symbol, thin, intricate lines woven together. When Wyatt rubs his thumb across it, it emits the slightest pulse. He gasps.   Of course, Jihoon snickers. “It’s spelled. Neat, huh?”   “Didn’t you just say security here wasn’t magical?”   Jihoon shakes his head. “I said part of it is. The sticker’s spelled to let you through the wards. If you didn’t have that, you’d be unable to go anywhere because the wards would simply… “ He gestures in the air, eyes roaming to the ceiling. “Kick you out. Like, physically. The not-magical part is in the card itself. There’s keypads and stuff you need to insert it in to unlock the mechanism.”   Wyatt melts into the sofa. The leather is just shy of too stiff to be comfortable. Still fiddling with the card, he says more than asks, “You’ve been here before.”   Offering a one-shouldered shrug, Jihoon shifts in his spot to stretch his legs out before him. “That’s part of being a supe. For a lot of us, anyhow. My parents brought me here after I was born so the SCF could create a file of me. It’s not mandatory, and a lot of people despise this system because it’s basically an excuse to monitor you all your life, but it comes with benefits. Like, not becoming potential targets. Unless you act up, of course. There’s health check-ups, too, and counseling, and as soon as you turn eighteen, you’re more eligible to be offered a spot here than if you weren’t registered.”   Before Wyatt has a chance to respond, one of the elevators gives a melodious ding, its door sliding open. Out walks a young man, black hair and tan skin. He approaches the both of them with a welcoming, if a little sharp, smile.   “My apologies for the wait.”   He dips into a brief, but polite bow. Jihoon rises to a stand and does the same, and Wyatt follows with some delay. The young man introduces himself as Lee Junsu, informing them that he’ll be in charge of all new recruits this year. As their supervisor and personal point of contact both. He leads them to the elevator he’d come out of, still smiling, tone casual but polite.   “I trust you’ve read the brochure you were given thoroughly?”   Jihoon nods, and so does Wyatt. They’d perused it together, sitting on the living room floor with takeaway jjajangmyeon and too much Pepsi. Back then, Wyatt’s life had been relatively normal. It feels like such a long time ago, as ridiculous as that is. Since that day, he’s found out about this whole other world mingled with that of ordinary humans, about him and Lysander being witches, about Jihoon being a shapeshifter. Although he has somewhat come to terms with it, he still wakes up sometimes and forgets until it hits him in the face like a brick.   And now, he’s here, about to sign himself up to get rid of the last piece of normalcy he had left.   Junsu’s smile turns satisfied. “Very good. I would rather not repeat myself too often.” He presses a button, the elevator smoothly beginning its journey upwards.   Wyatt gives himself a moment to take Junsu in. He’s older, but not by much, which means he’s either managed to weasel his way into this position, or he’s simply exceptionally skilled. If the SCF works at all like human companies do, promotions like these don’t come without their price.   The uniform he dons, Wyatt is more than familiar with. He’d worn one of them in a very recent dream, though his had been less intricate. Black and form-fitted, Junsu’s jacket is longer in the back, tapering off and reaching the backs of his knees. The two buttons keeping it closed are vaguely diamond-shaped. Its high collar and cuffs are embroidered with silver swirls and shapes. His pants are plain, much like normal dress pants, and he wears a pair of knee-high leather boots, laced up tightly and polished to perfection. Underneath the jacket, he wears a crisp, dark grey button-down.   A quiet peep breaks through the silence. Junsu whips his gaze down to his breast pocket, patting it gently. A tiny beak peeks over the hem, followed by the featherless head of fleshy pink, large-eyed baby bird. Junsu coos. “Well, well, well. You’re awake just in time.”   Jihoon gapes at it. “Is that… ?”   “My familiar, Velvet,” Junsu replies, rubbing the pad of his forefinger over the bird’s naked head. The bird chirps weakly, closing its eyes. “I’m afraid you’ve come at a terrible time to see him, but that’ll change. He’s been through a lot lately.”   “You’re a witch?” Wyatt can’t help but blurt out, and Junsu graces him with a snicker.   “Half, yes. And half shifter.”   Jihoon’s eyes sparkle up at him like he hung the stars in the sky. “That’s so cool!”   The elevator comes to a stop. Behind its opening doors is another, large hall, separated into several rooms by glass walls. Some rooms are large, with a long table and many chairs in the very middle, but most of them are stacked with cubicles like an office, people working away behind desks. Junsu gestures towards them.   “Once your employment has been greenlit, you’ll be doing office work for a little while, just to get you acquainted with everything. Every hunter needs to know how to do their paperwork correctly, who to contact for irregularities, how to behave during their time here. You’ll also be doing paperwork every time you return from field work, so get used to the thought of plowing through protocols and regulations.”   He leads them further down the hall, taking a sharp right at the very end of it. Behind a heavy door that only opens after Junsu inserts his card, puts in a code and scans his fingerprint, they find a smaller hall, once again separated into multiple rooms. This time, however, their walls aren’t made of glass, but something solid, clad with dark wood.   “This is where your higher-ups are,” Junsu explains, pushing the door closest to the one they just came through open. “Which includes me, of course.”   He lets Wyatt and Jihoon step in first and closes the door behind himself as he follows suit. Walking up to his desk, he reaches into his pocket, gently pulling Velvet out of his hiding place. Velvet chirps, sounding suspiciously sulky. Junsu places him in a little glass bowl padded with what looks like fluffy miniature pillows. Velvet burrows into them immediately.   “Now, let’s see,” Junsu says, letting himself fall into his office chair. He motions for Wyatt and Jihoon to take a seat, too, and they do without complaint. “I know we already have a file of you, Jihoon… ah, here we are.” It only takes a couple of clicks on his computer for him to find what he was looking for. He scans whatever’s on his monitor quickly. “Yes, you’re a good choice. Iseul has an eye for these things, but I’m still impressed every time.”   Jihoon’s cheeks pinken under the praise, but he beams at Junsu. “Thanks.”   Junsu returns the smile with one of his own, sharp at its edges again. “And Wyatt… you’re not registered, are you?”   Both Junsu’s and Jihoon’s attention snaps toward Wyatt. Wyatt clears his throat. “Uhm. No.” If he’d known about any of this, he’d have long showed up to register himself – if only to not seem suspicious. This delay hopefully won’t be an issue in the future. “I wasn’t aware of being – you know. Until a few weeks ago.”   The noise Junsu makes is free of judgment, and not even a little surprised. “I figured. Your magic isn’t very refined yet.”   And isn’t that fun. Another stranger seeing right through him, seeing that something extra in his blood he never suspected of being there. Wyatt’s stomach roils. Uncharted territory is one thing, and he’s far from being a coward, but this is unnerving in so many ways. How many people caught onto him not being a normal human? How many of the looks he’s received over the years were because of his magic? Nothing is worse than being the clueless one.   “Yeah. I know.” Wyatt’s reply comes out a lot more strained than he would have wanted. He averts his eyes, watching Velvet squirming in his makeshift bedding. “That’ll change soon. I have a mentor now.”   At that, Junsu’s brows rise high on his forehead. “Oh? How fortunate. The more tutoring you get, the better. Of course, we have highly skilled teachers, too, and you’ll be taking lessons to work on your magic, but it never hurts to have another pair of eyes on you.”   “Lessons?” Wyatt leans forward in his seat. “You’ll teach me here?”   Junsu nods. “Oh, yes. Everyone receives appropriate training. Our witches are schooled in everything magic, tutored through finding their specialization if they wish to have one, but you’ll also be undertaking combat training that’ll include more than what you’re used to. Your magic can be a weapon if you know how to use it. Mightier than a blade or gun ever could be.”   Junsu’s voice drops at his last few words, and for whatever reason, it sends a ripple of a shiver down Wyatt’s spine. He shares a look with Jihoon, who all but vibrates in his seat.   This job was going to be anything but boring.

[evercharmed-a]

Wyatt hadn’t been sure what to expect from any of this. The job offer had come so out of the blue that he’d needed a good two weeks to come to a proper decision, and only because his dreams had shown him he’d be relatively happy with the change. Getting into the police academy had been tough and draining, so a part of him couldn’t help but question just how much throwing that away for a place in an organization that calls itself “Supernatural Control Force” would be worth. Great salary and a new apartment he wouldn’t have to pay for aside. But Jihoon had been ecstatic immediately, and, well. As the only person intimately acquainted with all things supernatural, he had been – and still is – his best bet.

It’s still difficult, wrapping his head around this great, earth-shattering revelation. His dreams are more frequent now, or maybe he’s simply more aware of them after waking up instead of dismissing them the moment he opens his eyes. Mundane, everyday snippets, like Jihoon dropping his favorite mug and proceeding to wallow in sadness all day over it, or Lysander coming over with a baggie full of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. Before being told about his powers as a seer, Wyatt had always chalked those off as gut-feelings. Intuition. Heaving a sigh, he trails his eyes up the skyscraper Jihoon dragged him to. An endless expanse of boring grey, broken up by white-framed windows. On the wall next to its double-wide entrance door hangs a plaquet, plain silver with black lettering. “GoldLeaf Networks Inc.,” it reads. Wyatt furrows his brows. “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jihoon comes up behind him, humming in that too-enthusiastic way of his. “There’s a glamour here. The SCF is very secretive.” “Glamour?” Wyatt turns. “Whatever that is.” “Just,” Jihoon says as he taps a finger against the plaquet, “look closely. You’ll see it.” Wyatt is all but ready to turn around and change his mind, but he indulges Jihoon. He’s been doing that far too often lately. Squinting his eyes, he leans in, staring at the plaquet. Nothing happens. He stares a little harder, focusing on the letters, their crisp outlines and bland font. The letters begin to flimmer, to warp, rearranging themselves, multiplying, changing forms. Wyatt stumbles back, his heart in his throat. “Supernatural Control Force, Seoul subdivision,” the plaquet now reads, “est. 1704.” Jihoon grins. “See? That’s a glamour. It keeps curious eyes away. If you’re not magical or a supe, you can’t see through it.” “Holy shit.” Grin fixed on his face, Jihoon walks past him and pushes the door open, motioning for him to step inside. The inside is spacious, as expected from a lobby of a building this size. Warm lights line the window-covered walls, though the main light source is a plethora of sleek, circle-shaped lamps, holes in their middles and varying in size, all over the ceiling. The only two walls not covered in windows are the one all the way on the other side of the lobby, lined with a row of elevators instead, and the one all the way to the right, the reception desk sitting in front of it. In the middle of the lobby, surrounded by various plants, a waiting area has been lowered into the floor, black leather couches and armchairs, metal end tables topped with stacks of magazines, and a water cooler, gurgling every now and then. Jihoon heads straight to the reception desk. He lacks all wonder and excitement Wyatt expected to see from him, faced with a sight such as this. He must have been here before. The woman behind the reception desk looks up from her book, her ruby-red lips a harsh line. “Do you have an appointment?” “Sorta,” Jihoon replies, something sheepish in his tone, “we’re here to see Lee Junsu.” The woman makes a noise, slightly disgruntled. She marks her page in her book and sets it aside to rummage in one of her drawers. “Names?” “Oh Jihoon and Wyatt Lyles.” She takes two plastic cards out of the drawer, both of which read “Visitor” in bold, capital letters. After typing something on her keyboard, her printer spits out a set of stickers, glinting gold. She peels them off and sticks one each on the cards, pressing them down with a slight hitch in her brow, before handing the cards to Jihoon. “He’ll be with you shortly.” With a vague gesture towards the waiting area, she dismisses them, going back to her reading. “What was that about?” Wyatt asks, following Jihoon to one of the couches. Jihoon hands him his card. “Visitor passes. There’s a lot of security stuff in this building. You can’t enter some areas without a pass like this or being an employee.” “Sounds very… non-magical.” Jihoon snickers. “Part of it is. Sometimes, the human way works best.” As too many things lately, Jihoon’s answer is just cryptic enough that it leaves Wyatt unsatisfied. He bounces his right leg up and down, letting his eyes flit about the premise. It’s so… normal. So inconspicuous. Modern and no doubt expensive, yes. But not at all what he thought a place like this might look like. There are no magicked items floating in the air, no people appearing out of thin air and fire places, no owls carrying letters and parcels. Harry Potter, as it turns out, is a big, fat lie. He fiddles with his card instead of ruminating on how media cleverly managed to deceive him. Sturdy but not heavy, it’s a little like the library card he’d owned as a kid. The sticker the woman behind the desk printed out is some kind of symbol, thin, intricate lines woven together. When Wyatt rubs his thumb across it, it emits the slightest pulse. He gasps. Of course, Jihoon snickers. “It’s spelled. Neat, huh?” “Didn’t you just say security here wasn’t magical?” Jihoon shakes his head. “I said part of it is. The sticker’s spelled to let you through the wards. If you didn’t have that, you’d be unable to go anywhere because the wards would simply… “ He gestures in the air, eyes roaming to the ceiling. “Kick you out. Like, physically. The not-magical part is in the card itself. There’s keypads and stuff you need to insert it in to unlock the mechanism.” Wyatt melts into the sofa’s backrest. The leather is just shy of too stiff to be comfortable. Still fiddling with the card, he says more than asks, “You’ve been here before.” Offering a half-shouldered shrug, Jihoon shifts in his spot to stretch his legs out before him. “That’s part of being a supe. For a lot of us, anyhow. My parents brought me here after I was born so the SCF could create a file of me. It’s not mandatory, and a lot of people despise this system because it’s basically an excuse to monitor you all your life, but it comes with benefits. Like, not becoming potential targets. Unless you act up, of course. There’s health check-ups, too, and counseling, and as soon as you turn eighteen, you’re more eligible to be offered a spot here than if you weren’t registered.” Before Wyatt has a chance to respond, one of the elevators gives a melodious ding, its door sliding open. Out walks a young man, black hair and tan skin. He approaches the both of them with a welcoming, if a little sharp, smile. “My apologies for the wait.” He dips into a brief, but polite bow. Jihoon rises to a stand and does the same, and Wyatt follows with some delay. The young man introduces himself as Lee Junsu, informing them that he’ll be in charge of all new recruits this year. As their supervisor and personal point of contact both. He leads them to the elevator he’d come out of, still smiling, tone casual but polite. “I trust you’ve read the brochure you were given thoroughly?” Jihoon nods, and so does Wyatt. They’d perused it together, sitting on the living room floor with takeaway jjajangmyeon and too much Pepsi. Back then, Wyatt’s life had been relatively normal. It feels like such a long time ago, as ridiculous as that is. Since that day, he’s found out about this whole other world mingled with that of ordinary humans, about him and Lysander being witches, about Jihoon being a shapeshifter. Although he has somewhat come to terms with it, he still wakes up sometimes and forgets until it hits him in the face like a brick. And now, he’s here, about to sign himself up to get rid of the last piece of normalcy he had left. Junsu’s smile turns satisfied. “Very good. I would rather not repeat myself too often.” He presses a button, the elevator smoothly beginning its journey upwards. Wyatt gives himself a moment to take Junsu in. He’s older, but not by much, which means he’s either managed to weasel his way into this position, or he’s simply exceptionally skilled. If the SCF works at all like human companies do, promotions like these don’t come without their price. The uniform he dons, Wyatt is more than familiar with. He’d worn one of them in a very recent dream, though his had been less intricate. Black and form-fitted, Junsu’s jacket is longer in the back, tapering off and reaching the backs of his knees. The two buttons keeping it closed are vaguely diamond-shaped. Its high collar and cuffs are embroidered with silver swirls and shapes. His pants are plain, much like normal dress pants, and he wears a pair of knee-high leather boots, laced up tightly and polished to perfection. Underneath the jacket, he wears a crisp, dark grey button-down. A quiet peep breaks through the silence. Junsu whips his gaze down to his breast pocket, patting it gently. A tiny beak peeks over the hem, followed by the featherless head of fleshy pink, large-eyed baby bird. Junsu coos. “Well, well, well. You’re awake just in time.” Jihoon gapes at it. “Is that… ?” “My familiar, Velvet,” Junsu replies, rubbing the pad of his forefinger over the bird’s naked head. The bird chirps weakly, closing its eyes. “I’m afraid you’ve come at a terrible time to see him, but that’ll change. He’s been through a lot lately.” “You’re a witch?” Wyatt can’t help but blurt out, and Junsu graces him with a snicker. “Half, yes. And half shifter.” Jihoon’s eyes sparkle up at him like he hung the stars in the sky. “That’s so cool!” The elevator comes to a stop. Behind its opening doors is another, large hall, separated into several rooms by glass walls. Some rooms are large, with a long table and many chairs in the very middle, but most of them are stacked with cubicles like an office, people working away behind desks. Junsu gestures towards them. “Once your employment has been greenlit, you’ll be doing office work for a little while, just to get you acquainted with everything. Every hunter needs to know how to do their paperwork correctly, who to contact for irregularities, how to behave during their time here. You’ll also be doing paperwork every time you return from field work, so get used to the thought of plowing through protocols and regulations.” He leads them further down the hall, taking a sharp right at the very end of it. Behind a heavy door that only opens after Junsu inserts his card, puts in a code and scans his fingerprint, they find a smaller hall, once again separated into multiple rooms. This time, however, their walls aren’t made of glass, but something solid, clad with dark wood. “This is where your higher-ups are,” Junsu explains, pushing the door closest to the one they just came through open. “Which includes me, of course.” He lets Wyatt and Jihoon step in first and closes the door behind himself as he follows suit. Walking up to his desk, he reaches into his pocket, gently pulling Velvet out of his hiding place. Velvet chirps, sounding suspiciously sulky. Junsu places him in a little glass bowl padded with what looks like fluffy miniature pillows. Velvet burrows into them immediately. “Now, let’s see,” Junsu says, letting himself fall into his office chair. He motions for Wyatt and Jihoon to take a seat, too, and they do without complaint. “I know we already have a file of you, Jihoon… ah, here we are.” It only takes a couple of clicks on his computer for him to find what he was looking for. He scans whatever’s on his monitor quickly. “Yes, you’re a good choice. Iseul has an eye for these things, but I’m still impressed every time.” Jihoon’s cheeks pinken under the praise, but he beams at Junsu. “Thanks.” Junsu returns the smile with one of his own, sharp at its edges again. “And Wyatt… you’re not registered, are you?” Both Junsu’s and Jihoon’s attention snaps toward Wyatt. Wyatt clears his throat. “Uhm. No.” If he’d known about any of this, he’d have long showed up to register himself – if only to not seem suspicious. This delay hopefully won’t be an issue in the future. “I wasn’t aware of being – you know. Until a few weeks ago.” The noise Junsu makes is free of judgment, and not even a little surprised. “I figured. Your magic isn’t very refined yet.” And isn’t that fun. Another stranger seeing right through him, seeing that something extra in his blood he never suspected of being there. Wyatt’s stomach roils. Uncharted territory is one thing, and he’s far from being a coward, but this is unnerving in so many ways. How many people caught onto him not being a normal human? How many of the looks he’s received over the years were because of his magic? Nothing is worse than being the clueless one. “Yeah. I know.” Wyatt’s reply comes out a lot more strained than he would have wanted. He averts his eyes, watching Velvet squirming in his makeshift bedding. “That’ll change soon. I have a mentor now.” At that, Junsu’s brows rise high on his forehead. “Oh? How fortunate. The more tutoring you get, the better. Of course, we have highly skilled teachers, too, and you’ll be taking lessons to work on your magic, but it never hurts to have another pair of eyes on you.” “Lessons?” Wyatt leans forward in his seat. “You’ll teach me here?” Junsu nods. “Oh, yes. Everyone receives appropriate training. Our witches are schooled in everything magic, tutored through finding their specialization if they wish to have one, but you’ll also be undertaking combat training that’ll include more than what you’re used to. Your magic can be a weapon if you know how to use it. Mightier than a blade or gun ever could be.” Junsu’s voice drops at his last few words, and for whatever reason, it sends a ripple of a shiver down Wyatt’s spine. He shares a look with Jihoon, who all but vibrates in his seat. This job was going to be anything but boring.

[mondregen]

 Wyatt hadn’t been sure what to expect from any of this.  The job offer had come so out of the blue that he’d needed a good two weeks to come to a proper decision, and only because his dreams had shown him he’d be relatively happy with the change. Getting into the police academy had been tough and draining, so a part of him couldn’t help but question just how much throwing that away for a place in an organization that calls itself “Supernatural Control Force” would be worth. Great salary and a new apartment he wouldn’t have to pay for aside. But Jihoon had been ecstatic immediately, and, well. As the only person intimately acquainted with all things supernatural, he had been -- and still is -- his best bet.

 It’s still difficult, wrapping his head around this great, earth-shattering revelation. His dreams are more frequent now, or maybe he’s simply more aware of them after waking up instead of dismissing them the moment he opens his eyes. Mundane, everyday snippets, like Jihoon dropping his favorite mug and proceeding to wallow in sadness all day over it, or Lysander coming over with a baggie full of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. Before being told about his powers as a seer, Wyatt had always chalked those off as gut-feelings. Intuition.  Heaving a sigh, he trails his eyes up the skyscraper Jihoon dragged him to. An endless expanse of boring grey, broken up by white-framed windows. On the wall next to its double-wide entrance door hangs a plaquet, plain silver with black lettering. “GoldLeaf Networks Inc.,” it reads. Wyatt furrows his brows.  “Are you sure this is the right place?”  Jihoon comes up behind him, humming in that too-enthusiastic way of his. “There’s a glamour here. The SCF is very secretive.”  “Glamour?” Wyatt turns. “Whatever that is.”  “Just,” Jihoon says as he taps a finger against the plaquet, “look closely. You’ll see it.”  Wyatt is all but ready to turn around and change his mind, but he indulges Jihoon. He’s been doing that far too often lately. Squinting his eyes, he leans in, staring at the plaquet. Nothing happens. He stares a little harder, focusing on the letters, their crisp outlines and bland font.  The letters begin to flimmer, to warp, rearranging themselves, multiplying, changing forms.  Wyatt stumbles back, his heart in his throat. “Supernatural Control Force, Seoul subdivision,” the plaquet now reads, “est. 1704.”  Jihoon grins. “See? That’s a glamour. It keeps curious eyes away. If you’re not magical or a supe, you can’t see through it.”  “Holy shit.”  Grin fixed on his face, Jihoon walks past him and pushes the door open, motioning for him to step inside. The inside is spacious, as expected from a lobby of a building this size. Warm lights line the window-covered walls, though the main light source is a plethora of sleek, circle-shaped lamps, holes in their middles and varying in size, all over the ceiling. The only two walls not covered in windows are the one all the way on the other side of the lobby, lined with a row of elevators instead, and the one all the way to the right, the reception desk sitting in front of it. In the middle of the lobby, surrounded by various plants, a waiting area has been lowered into the floor, black leather couches and armchairs, metal end tables topped with stacks of magazines, and a water cooler, gurgling every now and then.  Jihoon heads straight to the reception desk. He lacks all wonder and excitement Wyatt expected to see from him, faced with a sight such as this. He must have been here before.  The woman behind the reception desk looks up from her book, her ruby-red lips a harsh line. “Do you have an appointment?”  “Sorta,” Jihoon replies, something sheepish in his tone, “we’re here to see Lee Junsu.”  The woman makes a noise, slightly disgruntled. She marks her page in her book and sets it aside to rummage in one of her drawers. “Names?”  “Oh Jihoon and Wyatt Lyles.”  She takes two plastic cards out of the drawer, both of which read “Visitor” in bold, capital letters. After typing something on her keyboard, her printer spits out a set of stickers, glinting gold. She peels them off and sticks one each on the cards, pressing them down with a slight hitch in her brow, before handing the cards to Jihoon. “He’ll be with you shortly.” With a vague gesture towards the waiting area, she dismisses them, going back to her reading.  “What was that about?” Wyatt asks, following Jihoon to one of the couches. Jihoon hands him his card.  “Visitor passes. There’s a lot of security stuff in this building. You can’t enter some areas without a pass like this or being an employee.”  “Sounds very… non-magical.”  Jihoon snickers. “Part of it is. Sometimes, the human way works best.”  As too many things lately, Jihoon’s answer is just cryptic enough that it leaves Wyatt unsatisfied. He bounces his right leg up and down, letting his eyes flit about the premise. It’s so… normal. So inconspicuous. Modern and no doubt expensive, yes. But not at all what he thought a place like this might look like. There are no magicked items floating in the air, no people appearing out of thin air and fire places, no owls carrying letters and parcels. Harry Potter, as it turns out, is a big, fat lie.  He fiddles with his card instead of ruminating on how media cleverly managed to deceive him. Sturdy but not heavy, it’s a little like the library card he’d owned as a kid. The sticker the woman behind the desk printed out is some kind of symbol, thin, intricate lines woven together. When Wyatt rubs his thumb across it, it emits the slightest pulse. He gasps.  Of course, Jihoon snickers. “It’s spelled. Neat, huh?”  “Didn’t you just say security here wasn’t magical?”  Jihoon shakes his head. “I said part of it is. The sticker’s spelled to let you through the wards. If you didn’t have that, you’d be unable to go anywhere because the wards would simply… “ He gestures in the air, eyes roaming to the ceiling. “Kick you out. Like, physically. The not-magical part is in the card itself. There’s keypads and stuff you need to insert it in to unlock the mechanism.”  Wyatt melts into the sofa’s backrest. The leather is just shy of too stiff to be comfortable. Still fiddling with the card, he says more than asks, “You’ve been here before.”  Offering a half-shouldered shrug, Jihoon shifts in his spot to stretch his legs out before him. “That’s part of being a supe. For a lot of us, anyhow. My parents brought me here after I was born so the SCF could create a file of me. It’s not mandatory, and a lot of people despise this system because it’s basically an excuse to monitor you all your life, but it comes with benefits. Like, not becoming potential targets. Unless you act up, of course. There’s health check-ups, too, and counseling, and as soon as you turn eighteen, you’re more eligible to be offered a spot here than if you weren’t registered.”  Before Wyatt has a chance to respond, one of the elevators gives a melodious ding, its door sliding open. Out walks a young man, black hair and tan skin. He approaches the both of them with a welcoming, if a little sharp, smile.  “My apologies for the wait.”  He dips into a brief, but polite bow. Jihoon rises to a stand and does the same, and Wyatt follows with some delay. The young man introduces himself as Lee Junsu, informing them that he’ll be in charge of all new recruits this year. As their supervisor and personal point of contact both. He leads them to the elevator he’d come out of, still smiling, tone casual but polite.  “I trust you’ve read the brochure you were given thoroughly?”  Jihoon nods, and so does Wyatt. They’d perused it together, sitting on the living room floor with takeaway jjajangmyeon and too much Pepsi. Back then, Wyatt’s life had been relatively normal. It feels like such a long time ago, as ridiculous as that is. Since that day, he’s found out about this whole other world mingled with that of ordinary humans, about him and Lysander being witches, about Jihoon being a shapeshifter. Although he has somewhat come to terms with it, he still wakes up sometimes and forgets until it hits him in the face like a brick.  And now, he’s here, about to sign himself up to get rid of the last piece of normalcy he had left.  Junsu’s smile turns satisfied. “Very good. I would rather not repeat myself too often.” He presses a button, the elevator smoothly beginning its journey upwards.  Wyatt gives himself a moment to take Junsu in. He’s older, but not by much, which means he’s either managed to weasel his way into this position, or he’s simply exceptionally skilled. If the SCF works at all like human companies do, promotions like these don’t come without their price.  The uniform he dons, Wyatt is more than familiar with. He’d worn one of them in a very recent dream, though his had been less intricate. Black and form-fitted, Junsu’s jacket is longer in the back, tapering off and reaching the backs of his knees. The two buttons keeping it closed are vaguely diamond-shaped. Its high collar and cuffs are embroidered with silver swirls and shapes. His pants are plain, much like normal dress pants, and he wears a pair of knee-high leather boots, laced up tightly and polished to perfection. Underneath the jacket, he wears a crisp, dark grey button-down.  A quiet peep breaks through the silence. Junsu whips his gaze down to his breast pocket, patting it gently. A tiny beak peeks over the hem, followed by the featherless head of fleshy pink, large-eyed baby bird. Junsu coos. “Well, well, well. You’re awake just in time.”  Jihoon gapes at it. “Is that… ?”  “My familiar, Velvet,” Junsu replies, rubbing the pad of his forefinger over the bird’s naked head. The bird chirps weakly, closing its eyes. “I’m afraid you’ve come at a terrible time to see him, but that’ll change. He’s been through a lot lately.”  “You’re a witch?” Wyatt can’t help but blurt out, and Junsu graces him with a snicker.  “Half, yes. And half shifter. Though I’ve always connected more with my witchy side.”  Jihoon’s eyes sparkle up at him like he hung the stars in the sky. “That’s so cool!”  The elevator comes to a stop. Behind its opening doors is another, large hall, separated into several rooms by glass walls. Some rooms are large, with a long table and many chairs in the very middle, but most of them are stacked with cubicles like an office, people working away behind desks. Junsu gestures towards them.  “Once your employment has been greenlit, you’ll be doing office work for a little while, just to get you acquainted with everything. Every hunter needs to know how to do their paperwork correctly, who to contact for irregularities, how to behave during their time here. You’ll also be doing paperwork every time you return from field work, so get used to the thought of plowing through protocols and regulations.”  He leads them further down the hall, taking a sharp right at the very end of it. Behind a heavy door that only opens after Junsu inserts his card, puts in a code and scans his fingerprint, they find a smaller hall, once again separated into multiple rooms. This time, however, their walls aren’t made of glass, but something solid, clad with dark wood.  “This is where your higher-ups are,” Junsu explains, pushing the door closest to the one they just came through open. “Which includes me, of course.”  He lets Wyatt and Jihoon step in first and closes the door behind himself as he follows suit. Walking up to his desk, he reaches into his pocket, gently pulling Velvet out of his hiding place. Velvet chirps, sounding suspiciously sulky. Junsu places him in a little glass bowl padded with what looks like fluffy miniature pillows. Velvet burrows into them immediately.  “Now, let’s see,” Junsu says, letting himself fall into his office chair. He motions for Wyatt and Jihoon to take a seat, too, and they do without complaint. “I know we already have a file of you, Jihoon… ah, here we are.” It only takes a couple of clicks on his computer for him to find what he was looking for. He scans whatever’s on his monitor quickly. “Yes, you’re a good choice. Iseul has an eye for these things, but I’m still impressed every time.”  Jihoon’s cheeks pinken under the praise, but he beams at Junsu. “Thanks.”  Junsu returns the smile with one of his own, sharp at its edges again. “And Wyatt… you’re not registered, are you?”  Both Junsu’s and Jihoon’s attention snaps toward Wyatt. Wyatt clears his throat. “Uhm. No.” If he’d known about any of this, he’d have long showed up to register himself -- if only to not seem suspicious. This delay hopefully won’t be an issue in the future. “I wasn’t aware of being -- you know. Until a few weeks ago.”  The noise Junsu makes is free of judgment, and not even a little surprised. “I figured. Your magic isn’t very refined yet.”  And isn’t that fun. Another stranger seeing right through him, seeing that something extra in his blood he never suspected of being there. Wyatt’s stomach roils. Uncharted territory is one thing, and he’s far from being a coward, but this is unnerving in so many ways. How many people caught onto him not being a normal human? How many of the looks he’s received over the years were because of his magic? Nothing is worse than being the clueless one.  “Yeah. I know.” Wyatt’s reply comes out a lot more strained than he would have wanted. He averts his eyes, watching Velvet squirming in his makeshift bedding. “That’ll change soon. I have a mentor now.”  At that, Junsu’s brows rise high on his forehead. “Oh? How fortunate. The more tutoring you get, the better. Of course, we have highly skilled teachers, too, and you’ll be taking lessons to work on your magic, but it never hurts to have another pair of eyes on you.”  “Lessons?” Wyatt leans forward in his seat. “You’ll teach me here?”  Junsu nods. “Oh, yes. Everyone receives appropriate training. Our witches are schooled in everything magic, tutored through finding their specialization if they wish to have one, but you’ll also be undertaking combat training that’ll include more than what you’re used to. Your magic can be a weapon if you know how to use it. Mightier than a blade or gun ever could be.”  Junsu’s voice drops at his last few words, and for whatever reason, it sends a ripple of a shiver down Wyatt’s spine. He shares a look with Jihoon, who all but vibrates in his seat.  This job is going to be anything but boring.