“...I must say Mr.Ambrose. I’d never expected to see the day that “you” graced my office with your presence…”

“Or, more likely, I imagine you never saw the day when I was brought in here for a non-bad reason...am I right?Mister Principal?” said Clancy, trying to light the tension he was feeling with his weak attempt at humor.

“Quite true...but here we are, the impossible came to pass...but damn, that’s seems to be the rule of thumb for our world these days, isn’t it?” said Nicholas Hammond, Head Administrator of Fontaine’s Prospero Foundation Headquarters.

“Mhm...um...Well, either way, thanks for seeing me.” said Clancy.

“Oh, don’t mention it. I’ve always got time for my friends, boyo. And that’s what we are right?...Friends?” said Hammond.

“Right…” said Clancy. His shoulder tensed, just in case the man pressed any of the buttons, that they both knew were hidden on the underside of his desk.

The two men sat in a spacious office. A windowless room that was bathed in clean white halogenic light.

Its cream colored  walls decorated with a few certificates and trophies and angular, metallic knick-knacks.

With a single, massive, horned skull sitting at the back of the room to draw the eye and serve as possible conversation piece. As well as a promise, and a warning, of the capabilities of the room’s owner.

Hammond sat behind his desk and Clancy sat across from him, feeling uncomfortable and slightly self unconscious. Working very hard to keep himself from fidgeting.

“So uh, I got my secretary to pencil you in Clancy, but I’m afraid I neglected to have her write down what it was you wanted to see me about.” said Hammond.

Clancy frowned, because he knew the man was lying, there was a mean spirited brightness in Hammond’s eyes that assured Clancy that the man knew damn well what Clancy was here for.

Hammond just wanted to make Clancy say it aloud, if he was feeling especially evil, he’d only give Clancy what he wanted, after making Clancy beg for it.

Still Clancy had to pretend he didn’t know all this and play along, because being a spoilsport wouldn’t get him what he needed.

“...Don’t worry about it...like we said this whole thing “is” a bit apropos right? So honestly it’s probably my fault for not being clear about what I’m here for.” said Clancy.

“Right, well you’re here now...so maybe you can clarify…” said Hammond.

“Ah, right. Okay, so, I think you’ll probably remember a few years ago, maybe eight or nine years ago...Maybe ten?...Anyway, it was while ago….when I’d just joined the foundation and more specifically when I’d just joined this particular branch of the Foundation in New Camden.”

“Right? What of it?” said Hammond. Purposefully interrupting Clancy’s momentum to throw him off his game.

“....W-, well...So...um, when I was first starting off you made me an offer to join this foundation in a more direct way, by becoming one of the Foundation’s committed Mages...a Foundation Elite. I turned you down because, at the time, me and missus didn’t really know how long we’d be staying here and I didn’t know how long I’d be doing this…”

“Now a few years later you’re a commendable veteran freelancer with hundreds of completed requests under your belt, and you’re a mage boasting powers that reach into the middle ranks of the Spiral Stage...You’ve been doing this for a while and now I take it you’re feeling a little more sure of what you’re doing and where you’re headed in this life...in other words, you’ve gone and done a fair amount of growing up…” said Hammond. Cutting in yet again, his look like that of a stern, well meaning, father figure. Which only served to make Clancy dislike the man more.

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“...Er...Right….Pretty much” said Clancy. Speaking to break the heavy lull that fell after the other man had finished with condescending soliloquizing.

The lull persisted forcing Clancy to speak once more, despite the dryness building at the back of his throat.

“...So? Uh...what do you say, Adminstrator Hammond? Is the offer still open?” said Clancy. Hoping that the emails he got every few months or so, reflecting similarly open positions was an indication.

Hammond looked at the young man in front of him. Feeling an old ache at the base of his nose. Whether it was twisted fate, or ill humored serendipity, it seemed that he, Hammond and the young Ambrose, were simply meant to be in each other’s lives.

Hammond had been the one to make the arrest when the foundation, the US’s Magus Authority in the US Army, and the UN internationally gathered forces stormed the compound at the Dantalion Cult’s North American branch.

Back then he’d actually been there as one of the UN’s boys, having left the army to join the international-magus Authority.

He’d been the one to find a young Clancy. A half mad, feral child, who smelled of brimstone and whose skin was smoking, his eyes still aglow with the fires of hell. With the shredded pulp of his own father’s heart clutched between his fingers.

Perhaps Hammond and his people could have engaged with a little less aggression, perhaps they could have remembered that they were still dealing with a child and dealt with the issue more gently. Perhaps...Hammond could have then and now, been and be, the bigger man and not hold what happened as the result of their approach against the boy.

But Hammond wasn’t the bigger man, or at least he didn’t want to be. Two of his colleagues ended up paralyzed for life, and one nearly ended up dying. The boy nearly bit Hammond’s nose off.

He’d nearly died from the outrage, when the higher ups swooped in and told him and his superiors UN

And though the healers could fix the damage, on a certain cold days, Hammond could still feel the  monstrous youth’s unnaturally sharp teeth crunching through the cartilage and bulbous tissue of his nose.

He was holding a grudge, a big grudge, but one that he was mature enough never to act on and the “boy” had been wise enough not to give him an opportunity to pursue. Growing up to become a fairly, perhaps troublingly capable man, a reasoning beast.  

Aware of how to be useful and how not to make an eyesore of itself. Thus while the two were not friends, they were also not enemies.

And while Hammond would have loved nothing better than the ability to run this, demon in human form, in front of him, through a wringer, and then use his powers as Administrator to put the man on a extremely tight, extremely short, leash

….He knew it wouldn’t be wise to try and do so... In a world of magic and the fantastical, it was the men who were most pragmatic and practical in their actions who prospered …Petty vengeance might have felt nice but continual promotion up the organizational ladder felt much more satisfying.

“Okay…”

Clancy blinked.

“Okay?”

“Okay, we’d be happy to have you as one of our people.” said Hammond.

Clancy blinked once again. Not sure what the trick was, waiting in his seat to hear the butt. Unconsciously glaring at the other man, to see what strings he’d attach to this acceptance of Clancy’s request.

“Really?”

“...Really. I’ll have someone get a contract to you within a week’s time if that’s okay, Mr.Ambrose. You’ll be an Elite on paper, but we’ll really be giving you special consideration as a Special-Class.” said Hammond. Feeling both bemused and amused as he spoke.

Amused by the response from the other man, as he watched him staring at him with naked suspicion. Bemused because he knew that he. Hammond was being perfectly serious and perfectly candid about this.

There would be no games. He wouldn’t be giving the man a run around. He’d have loved to be able to do so, and had he taken the offer back when he was just barely a circle stage magi, Hammond could have had a bit of fun pushing the boy around.

Unfortunately, Clancy had chosen to wait and grow a little older and tougher and harder to chew.

Worse yet, in the time he’d been growing he really had built up an impressive backlog of successfully completed requests. Some of them of a scale that would have normally required, full foundation troops, or multiple freelancer parties, to see completed.

That was the kind of rare talent that Prospero Foundation normally did its best to woo. Accepting such people as Special-Class agents, or so called Flexible Elites.

Elite Foundation Agents who were hired on with better pay and benefits, and less restrictions to what they could and couldn’t do and what was required and expected of them, because rather than using Foundation resources to get as good as they were, they’d somehow become good all on their own.

What made things even worse, was that the boy’s progress from circle stage to spiral had taken less than ten years.

Whether he knew it or not, whether he’d thought of this or not, all this together made Clancy the sort of talent that any of the world’s factions and the magical families would put some effort into recruiting, even with his checkered past.

He was the sort of investment that could keep on paying big, full centuries into the future. And therefore doing anything to make the man consider walking away from the Foundation would have been against Hammond’s own interests.

As there was a very possibility that this and the unique circumstances that made Clancy into an observation subject for the Foundation, would have led to Foundation’s higher up, finding out any mishandling of the issue on Hammond’s part, should the Ambrose couple choose to look elsewhere for opportunities, backers and potential allegiances.

Having had his fun, Hammond frowned and rolled his eyes. Having grown weary of having the odious young man in his presence.

“Well,..I don’t know about you...but I’ve got other things to do today...So if you don’t mind?...”

Clancy startled.

“Huh....Oh..Er, right...Well, uh... thank’s for seeing me.” said Clancy. Getting up, nearly knocking the chair over as he rose.

“Don’t mention it….Seriously.” said Hammond. Reaching out to shake the other man’s hand, while forcing a tightly, polite smile onto his face.