October 15th, 1857 | 12:55 pm

It had been a foggy morning in London. Edgar Kinsley has just arrived from his estate and now stands at the front of the newly rebuilt Bovril Factory- the same factory that had burned down approximately 23 years ago. Many witnesses that survived the fire claimed to have seen a factory worker’s hands to have suddenly bursts into flames. Many were skeptical at first, blamed the poor working conditions. But individuals like Kinsley, knew better. It wasn’t until a few more incidents later that the world knew of people with unnatural abilities. Because many incidents lead to accidental deaths, several groups called for action. It was the beginning to an era of persecution of people with these abilities dubbed “unholies”. Public executions with no trial to stand on and no chance for redemption. Those who could hide and control their newfound abilities were considered the lucky ones.

Such as the likes of Edgar Kinsley, a high-ranking member of society, who had to watch from afar as flames of fear and hatred consumed the world. But he wasn’t going to stand idly as innocent people were being slaughtered in the streets. Because of his ability to be able to detect those with powers, he was able to hide and protect them. Once the Crimean War started, Kinsley saw the opportunity to appeal to the crown and create a chance for his brethren to finally live in the light of society. With his connections he was able to establish “The Queen’s Army of Light”. That was the original name… unfortunately it ended up being known as “The Queen’s Unholy Army”.

Nevertheless, the newfound army eventually turned the tide of war- leading England and its allies to victory against Russia. With the end of the war, there was a movement to outlaw the persecution of unholies without a trial. As long as they served under England and its allies… they were to be protected. But the war became the perfect distraction from those who sought to use their powers for depravation. Crime syndicates of unholies had risen in this time, causing terror across the world. There was also talks of other countries forming their own powered armies. While the unholy army disbanded at the end of the war, England still needed a way to deal with cases of superpowers that the normal law enforcement and agencies wouldn’t be able to handle themselves. So on March of 1857 the Queen’s Hand was founded by the forerunners of the Queen’s unholy army:

Yoma Jang a woman shrouded by mystery left behind in her country of Nigeria. Her gift of clairvoyance helped to guide the Queen’s army and now her hand. She is a motherlike figure to many unholies who need family, guidance, or both.

Haji Karim whose family suffered at the hands of a mob once his identity as an unholy was revealed. Despite his losses and pain, he still remains a high spritied man and hopes to bring justice for those who have ever been persecuted for having powers. His ability to teleport anywhere in the world helps connects the Queen’s Hand internationally.

And finally, Edgar Kinsley, a man who built his name serving the crown. With his ability to detect certain traits of a person, seeking out skilled individuals proved an easy task. Convincing them to serve a country that had given them strife all the years before was…another challenge on its own. A man of power and privilege can only offer so much… what he can give however is the opportunity for lost souls to redeem themselves. And while Queen’s Hand serves as the guardian against those who would use their powers for more wicked purposes, the agency is also a place for individuals to further develop their abilities.

A young woman carrying a rather large traveler’s bag approaches the man lost in thought.
“Yoma and Haji have finished their ends of preparation, and those who requested to be housed in our agency’s dorm have been settling in. What about you father?” Her voice carried a tone of mild curiosity but mostly full of worry.
Edgar looked back at his daughter Alice, who- without any known ability decided on her own to serve the agency despite how it would affect her social standing.

“My Alice, we’ve been preparing this for months now. An old man like me shouldn’t keep everyone waiting.” Edgar let out a long-awaited sigh and checks his pocket watch. The time showed 12:52pm, all recruits were to arrive at 2:00pm for an introductory meeting…at least that’s what they were told.

“Is it alright to trick them like this? I don’t mean to be rude but most of them would need proper training before going out to the field already.” Alice had a concerned look on her face. She had met with many of them beforehand as she helped those who had already arrived in the city adjust. She even had to buy suits for some of the men who looked like they’ve never seen a tailor in their life.

“The Queen expects us to start handling cases right away, I wanted to give them more time to…settle in. But with the city in a slight of chaos, all eyes will be on us.” Edgar takes the black traveler’s bag from Alice and starts to head inside.“Karim should be here with the recruits any minute…be sure to give them a warm welcome.” He gives her one final nod before disappearing behind the door.

---

2:00 pm
It’s been about 3 days since those that chose to live in the South Bank Dormitory moved in. Anticipation of starting their jobs at the agency has been building on everyone’s minds, there was also a side of uncertainty as well. Everyone knew part of the job was to handle cases of superpowers being used for “evil”, no one was told how they’d achieve that.While vigilantism was a popular approach, the Queen’s Hand was supposed to be a more organized manner of handling things. Still, the thought of being a super hero… a rather new and unexplored concept, was thrilling to say the least.

Everyone for the most part was up and bustling through the house. While some chose to keep to themselves, others didn’t mind the company. They were going to be working together after all. After a lunch prepared by the house mother, Ms. Agatha- they were told to be ready in the common room by 2:00. Even those that chose not to live in SBH was told to come there anyway.

In the middle of the room stood a man dressed in bright colors and a dark green turban. Some of you will recognize him as Haji Karim, one of the three founders of the Queen’s Hand and head of the Support Department. He stands still, not making any sort of eye contact or greeting whoever came in. After it looked like everyone was finally in the room he clears his throat.

“I hope you’ve all been resting well. As you know the introduction meeting starts at 2:00.” He looks around the room and gives a sly grin.“But it isn’t taking place here… so you’ll all be late since headquarters is on the other side of the Thames River.” Haji claps his hands together and laughs,
“But don’t worry friends, please- let us all join hands and pray that Edgar Kinsley doesn’t rip you a new one.” The man stretches his hands out and waves for everyone to come closer, his face gives off a joking feeling but behind his eyes you’re all sure that he’s being 100% serious. But since the meeting was supposed to start 5 minutes ago, what else do you have to lose?

Little Jun,
When you were still in the womb of your mother's, she wanted to give you this ring. You mother, your baba and all of the Hone-onna before them bared this very same band. It is with great honor that I give this to you today. I know you will be in great care with the people of England; and even better with The Queen's Hand. Your mother would be proud. - Papa

The ring sat on Junko's palm, a warmth glowing from it as if it were breathing. The color of it was a mere black, perhaps made from an obsidian; no jewels or etching distinguishing it from every other simple band. Even for something over one hundred years old, the ring was in it's best shape, each owner carefully polishing the surface with silk or cotton. The package was brought to Junko's room when she returned from that morning's meal. As expected, her father always had a niche for timing. Junko carefully wrapped the ring with the cloth it came with and returned it to the satchel. There wouldn't be a need for it today.

It was early afternoon. Junko dormed on the top floor of the South Bank House. It was apparent that there were others on that floor with her, though out of the three days she had been in England she hadn't formally met anyone yet. Not that it mattered to her. Being isolated was always Junko's forte. As a child, she was kept a secret and sheltered for most her life. Not having relations with others was perfectly fine with her. It wasn't entirely that she was against making friends, but wasn't granted much opportunity to do so growing up. Junko and her father arrived in France when she was just over six years old. She quickly was enrolled in a private all-girl primary school soon after, losing her Japanese language and picking up French and English quickly. She was versed in poetry and enjoyed the violin but was shunned by her classmates. They thought the color of her hair was odd and being an orphan was the ultimate sin.

They were told to meet in the Common Room by 2:00 that afternoon. Junko fastened the buttons on the sleeves of her coat and took one last glance at her reflection in the mirror. Her long straight black hair was pulled back, her face plain and void. She apparently held several features of her mother but she was too young then to recall the face. She neither felt excited or dormant.

The heavy wood door closed behind her with a satisfying click. A turn of the key locked the door and Junko made her way down the hallway. She passed several faces, both old and young, fresh and tired. Weaving quickly down the corridors and stairs, she entered a room in which she assumed to be the Commons. Many were already arriving and gathering in front of an individual in which she presumed to be Haji Karim, the man that was heading the division she was assigned to. A couple of minutes passed and the man clapped his hands. Everyone's attention drew to the front of the room. Junko sat down on a parlor chair and crossed her leg. She watched Haji with his grin and news.

“.. But don’t worry friends, please- let us all join hands and pray that Edgar Kinsley doesn’t rip you a new one.”

"Interesting.. choice of words" she thought to herself. "..And also odd to rendezvous in a location that we weren't anticipated to meet at". Her eyes quickly surveyed the crowd and their confused expression. She leaned back and crossed her arms, waiting for their next command.

1:35 PM
Karl Ainsworth stood in front of the mirror, inspecting himself. He wore a white shirt underneath a layer of waistcoat and sack coat. Resting on his head was a peaked flat cap, the only memoir he has of his old life- well that and the sheathed rondel dagger strapped to the back of his waist, concealed by his sack coat.

For the past two days after settling down in his dorm he has been intensely training. In between the intense physical conditioning he did with his power active to the light drills and form practice done waiting for his power to be available again. Of course, the conditioning done in the two days would barely yield any immediate results but practicing his dagger form and their techniques did help to scrap off some of the rust he had accumulated while in prison.

Well, today would be the first time he properly left the room to go somewhere. For the past three days, he only left his room to grab his meal or to use the communal bath. In those brief escapade (Note the sarcasm), he would keep to himself. Normally Karl is a friendly enough bloke, but the death of his parents and the disappearance of his siblings weigh heavily on his mind.

Checking his attire once more, the Birmingham-born man would leave his dormitory to head for the common room.

After a quick trip from the second to first floor, he found himself in the common room, alone. Well not exactly but he might as well be. The guy stood as still, not even acknowledging Karl’s presence. Karl could not really pinpoint his ethnicity. To Karl, the guy probably hailed from India. Though by no means common, the ex-gangster had seen men who looked like the turban-wearing man down at the factories, “Men from British India” one of his older brothers would proclaim

He spent the next 20 minutes just standing around, waiting for the meeting to begin. This forced Karl to begin to reflect on his current predicament. Something he wanted to and did avoid for the past few days. He was deep in contemplation

“Where is Johnny and Cullen?”
“Who killed Mom and Pops?

This was not the first time he asked himself these questions and it certainly will not be the last time he did.

Eventually,he snapped back to reality when the man suddenly began talking, noting how filled the common room is. As the man spoke, Karl’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He lift his hands looking at it then at the man’s hands everthen at everybody else.

Sofia had taken the liberty of dressing herself for the occasion, putting on one of her finer dresses. A modest set of luxuriously handsewn dresses were the only things she had kept when she left home, a physical echo of her former life. The children were all abound with curiosity as to where she would be going in her fine clothes. Most of the girls were convinced she was going on a stroll with some fancy gentleman fellow, and a few of the boys were secretly a little jealous. They didn't want to share their "mother", because even though they had mothers of their own, they were rarely seen or heard. It was Sofia who sat at their bedside in the middle of the night when they were distraught and burning with a fever. It took a great deal of convincing and promising before they let her leave.

The young woman read her invitation once more while on her way to the headquarters of the Queen's Hand. They were kind enough to arrange for a carriage to pick her up, most likely because she didn't live in South Bank house. This was by choice, she was still unsure if she was going to stay at the children's home. Who was going to need her more, the children or the Queen? If she praised the question like that, the answer was obvious. The invitation however stressed the importance to be part of a team of sorts. Sofia was unsure how she felt about that. She put the letter back into the envelop tucking it into a safe place.

Once they arrived the footman lead her inside, making small talk along the way, to which Sofia mostly smiled kindly. He opened a set of wooden doors for her, revealing a room full of people. Upon entering the room most eyes darted her way. She curtsied lightly, holding her dress. Sofia took note of a man standing in the centre of the room. He did not make eye contact upon her entrance, nor did he seem to acknowledge her in any way. It was quite strange. Sofia frowned at his lack of manners and continued onwards finding a spot next to another gentleman.

"Good afternoon..." She spoke in a soft voice.

The man in the green turban spoke up, drawing her attention back to him. She guessed he was trying to be comical or make them worry, succeeding in neither with Sofia. If they were going to be late it was not by her doing. They should have given her the proper location in the invitation and she would have gone there. Sofia sighed audibly at the request to step a little closer, as to surround the man, who Sofia realized had not even introduced himself. She held her gloved hands to the side, waiting for things to move along.

Blue eyes looked down at brown lace up boots as they tapped against one another repetitively. Idly, she wondered how much they had cost. Likely far more than she could imagine. They felt snug against her skin, the fresh smelling leather fitting surprisingly comfortably. The laces had been an issue...but with Mrs Agatha’s help, she had eventually sorted them. She’d hid her blush at having to ask for assistance with something so foolish and had made sure that no one else was around when she did.

Her gaze rose from her shoes, to glance around the room, admiring the furnishings. Everything looked so precise and neat, like its whole purpose was to be here and nowhere else. Infact, this whole place was brilliant. She had never really been inside anything like South Bank before. And even though she’d already been here three days, Jennie had still looked around excitedly as she’d wandered down the hallway to the common room, fingers brushing against the delicate wallpaper that was plastered from floor to ceiling. She kept finding herself touching pieces of the house to make sure that it was real, and that she wasn’t just in some dream world of her own making. The bumpy yet smooth texture of the wallpaper had confirmed that it was still real. At least for now anyway.

Jennie’s home had been a stark contrast. She’d spent her life (or at least what she could recall) living in the dirty, fetid inner city slums of London. Whitechapel to be precise. But to her it hadn’t really seemed dirty or fetid. True it was overcrowded - but you were never at lack of company. Sure the factory’s nearby were terribly loud - but as she would later find out she found it horribly difficult to sleep in silence. And everyone knew that it was rife with crime - but that had just provided ample opportunity to learn the tricks of the trade. It was plain and simply, her life. Or had been. Until she’d entered South Bank.

Now she was sat in the common room, having squeezed past a couple of the others to plop down in one of the remaining empty seats. The man infront of them had initially remained so silent that she jumped a little when he spoke. “I hope you’ve all been resting well...-“ She fidgeted on her chair as she listened to his speech, already having been told off twice in the last 24 hours for putting her feet on the fabric covers, yet finding it uncomfortable to sit with her back so straight. “...let us all join hands and pray-“

A laugh escaped from her suddenly, it spilling from her lips unexpected & unwanted, and she quickly clapped a palm over her mouth as if she could capture the sound with her fingers. “Sorry.” Jennie smiled gingerly, hoping that he wasn’t actually as scary as he seemed, for she meant no harm by it. But, well... it did seem barmy to expect them to make it on time now. She didn’t even know how to tell the time. Well, she sort of did (her Ma had once told them that people of the upper classes liked that sort of thing). But usually she just relied on the chiming of bells to tell her what hour it was. Getting anywhere at a precise time was unheard of and it seemed unlikely that this was going to change now.

Eventually she shrugged her slim shoulders and held out a hand to the person next to her to see if they would take it. He didn’t seem like a man who would take no for an answer and honestly, she was quickly growing bored of sitting here, the quiet too much for the teenager.

Felix's eyes shot open and were greeted by the white walls of his room. A nightmare... He closed his eyes again, this time seeing nothing but the soothing darkness. He wasn't back there. He was here in London inside the South Bank House and sleeping in the room he had chosen. Still, his heart raced, and he could feel the cold sweat running down his back. Sometimes it was like this in the mornings. Felix would wake up to nightmares of the war. He usually stood in an empty field hearing all those things he heard years ago. Other times it was worse. Felix shook his head and pushed himself up from the warmth of his bed. No time to dwell on the past. He had to get ready for the meeting later on, and he didn't want to Ms. Agatha's lunch either.

He got up and dressed in his usual black suit and a deep red cravat, a gift he had received from one of his soldier friends after the war. His friend. Richard had died just months after the war. No one knew how he died; they know that they found his body near an opium den in the East End of London. Felix understood Richard's struggle, and he understood why the man frequented opium dens. The nightmares and memories alone of the war made him want to go to an opium den in East End, but he still had things to do. He had come this far that getting addicted to that drug seemed like a waste to him.

Felix left his room after getting dressed and ade his way to get some lunch. While had been in the South Bank House for three days now he had not been able to interact with the others inside the building. Felix knew there were a few others in the fourth floor with him, but Felix had only seen glances of them. Most of the time he had shut himself in his room or gone to the Hansford estate to visit his adopted siblings and train a bit more. The South Bank House was too small to train in, and he wondered if they would have a space to exercise their abilities and learn about the others also. He was quite curious what the others were capable of.

Once lunch was finished, Felix made his way to the common room, just ten minutes before the meeting was to start. He knew the importance of first impressions and being on time was always important. He was a soldier and following orders was what Felix had been trained to do. So when the man, he presumed as Haji Karim, asked them to join hands he did so without hesitation. While it may have seen strange to the people in the room Felix knew that there was a reason why he had ordered it. Felix knew that Karim had abilities, much like the rest of them, and he was the one in charge, so there was no reason to doubt the man.

Felix stood from the seat he had taken a few minutes ago and stood beside a well-dressed woman and gloved hands. "I am Felix Hansford, lovely to make your acquaintance." He took her hand and bowed his head. "Looks like we are being toyed with by the commanding officers." He glanced at Mr. Karim with a small smile and opened his other palm and waited for another to join in.

7:30 am
Eliza was one of the first in the house to awake that morning. Once she had made her bed and gotten dressed, Eliza headed down to see if Ms. Agatha needed any help. It wasn't her job as a new resident in the South Bank House to tidy the shared spaces, but years of being forced to live as a maid for the Walkers had made it a habit. At first Ms. Agatha was opposed to letting the young lady touch a speck of dust. But there seemed to be no way of talking Eliza down, so today Agatha have woken up much earlier to get everything done beforehand before Eliza could have anything to do. There was a slight grin on the woman's face as Eliza walks into the kitchen, confused. Ms. Agatha hands over a fresh mug of coffee and says to her,

"Like I said dearie, leave everything to me. You should be sleeping in on this fine morning." They both peer out the nearby window where the morning fog had made it so nothing nearby was visible. Eliza has to stop herself at making a sarcastic comment, instead she turns back to the house mother,

"I feel terrible letting you wake up so early to take care of our living space... perhaps tomorrow I'll get an even more head start." Eliza smiles at her, hinting at a challenge since the woman was so adament on taking care of everything herself.

"I'm serious young lady, those frail procelain hands should be put to better use than cleaning this old house." Agatha gave her a "I'll buckle you to the bed if I have to" kind of look before resuming to making breakfast.

Eliza ignores the advice (and threat) before thanking Agatha for the coffee. She goes back to her room to grab a copy of Charles Dicken's latest work Little Dorrit before exiting the house, she could hear Ms. Agatha yelling after her to be back by 2:00 for the meeting.

1:50 pm
Eliza had gotten back a little earlier than usual and resigned herself in the common room with her book. She was fully immersed with Dicken's words that she hadn't noticed others piling in for the meeting. It wasn't until the man at the center of the room spoke that Eliza looked up from her book to give her full attention. She didn't recognize him, although the only person she met from the agency was Edgar Kinsley. But as the man went on to speak, Eliza questioned if he was really affliated with something as serious as the Queen's Hand. There was a sense of uneasiness and confusion in the room as soon as the man finished his talk and put his hands up. There were some that had stepped closer to the center, even joining hands. Eliza hesitated before deciding this could all be some sort of prank, she wasn't one to entertain that idea. Since moving in Eliza mostly kept to herself, cleaning, and books. She's not the type to actively seek out conversations or people. But the amount of confusion and awkardness was too much for her that she decided to finally speak up,
"What kind of game are you playing here?" She asks while setting her book down on the chair and joining the circle.

---

"Would you like me to help you with that?" A young voice sounded.

"Why, how kind of you. But no thank you, I can carry it myself." said Graham, adjusting the decently sized bag he had shouldered as he left his quarters. The aid closed the door behind him. "I hope you don't mind. One must take a delicate hand when it comes to canvas.", he said as he patted the leather bag with a shaky hand.

"Of course, Sir. Now, if you will follow me right this way I can help you to the common room."

They proceeded to travel down the stairs to the common room, the younger man remaining close to the painter in case he needed assistance. "I've never abode in a building as large as this one...how very gracious of your employers to allow us to house here." he said, continuing the small-talk as they progressed down the stairs. He had only been living in this new building for a few days. Only a few days after the death of his beloved brother had he moved in here, and as such the pain still weighed down in his mind. But he had to look past it. Dwelling on what could not be changed would only make things worse, or so it was his philosophy.

"Yes Sir. Very gracious." the aid said as he remembered his wallet. He brought his attention back to his surroundings as they drew close to the common room. "Here you are Sir. Right over there is where your presence is requested."

Graham looked over to the middle of the common room as he made his last step down the stairs. A group was now forming there. He had aimed to come a few minutes early, but seeing as he was not used to living in a home with more than a single group of steps, he seemed to misjudge his time of arrival. At least he wasn't late, though. "Thank you, young man." he spoke as he shouldered the bag more correctly again, and made his way towards the center of the common room.

The first person he noticed was potentially the oldest present man, besides himself, who adorned bright shades of various colors, and a turban upon his head. His tone seemed light-hearted, and he was being very friendly to everyone, despite the bad news that they would be late. Then the man asked that they all joined hands in prayer. Graham was never a god-fearing man, but he was never one to make rude gestures, or seem rude due to lack of gesture, either. He approached closer, making his place among the others. He lightly held out his unsteady hand to one of the people there, a young blonde woman who a moment ago had blurted out. She seemed on edge. Perhaps the hand of an elderly man could calm her spirit, Graham thought. He left his other hand free to join with others.

Then there was a question: "What kind of game are you playing here?"

"Now, now. Who doesn't like games? I know I sure do." Graham said with a friendly smile.

Three days had passed since his entire life took a turn. He didn’t know whether it was good or bad. Mister O’Neil from the workhouse would have killed to be called up to task by the Queen, or gain any form of special attention. That wasn’t an exaggeration either. The men told him, three days ago that he had to stay here now. They took him out of there, away from Mister O’Neil.

Afro had almost no belongings except for the near worn out black trousers, far from white shirt, and beat up boots that he wore. Those were his going away gift from the workhouse. The lad also had a black neck shawl, though that one was with him before the workhouse. He was very protective of it, and could never be seen without it.

As for the present, he wasn’t sure of what to do with himself, sitting in the corner of the room on a wooden chair. He was seated with his knees to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, rocking back and forth. This was all rather nice, much nicer than anything he had ever experienced, and it was overwhelming. Afro didn’t like it. Ms. Agatha made him feel better though with lunch, even though he didn’t lay in the bed that was in his room like she asked him to.

The boy had been in here before even the strange man with the wrappings on his head, of whom he stared down patiently. It didn’t feel right to be doing nothing, but he didn’t know what else to do. For a while it was just the two of them before more people started coming in. These people lived here too, as Ms. Agatha told him, and they were unholy too. Though, Afro didn’t take any time to get to know any of them. This was literally probably the third time that he saw any of them outside of meal time, as he often hid away on his own.

Among those, Afro noticed Miss Sofia amidst the people incoming. She seemed to be the only one with whom he actually managed to solidly keep his eyes on. He remembered her. From the care home that Theodore had to go to one time when they thought the flu was going to kill him. He left the care home all better after Miss Sofia helped him. She was nice, she saved him.

The wrapped head man was speaking, which interrupted his thought process. Learning that they were in the wrong place actually surprised him. They told him that he was supposed to be here, not Thames River. Afro would have remembered that...Further, even if they were supposed to meet there, why was this man here to tell them that they were in the wrong place?

Something didn't make sense, and the lad shifted uncomfortably in his corner, stopping his rocking motion. With the word of the wrapping head man to join hands in prayer, Afro wasn't sure what to make of that. However, with the potential threat of Mister Kinsley ripping them a new one, Afro did get up from his chair, seeing too that others were doing it. It must have been really serious.

Though, both of the wrapping head man's hands were taken by another person, so, that must've meant that he had to hold someone else's. His lips quivered a bit, being closer to a developing crowd in this small space. He didn't like it at all...But the men who freed him from Mister O'Neil said to listen to these people, then they could find his family. They promised only if Afro promised first. He shut his eyes and simply took an open hand, aiming his face to the ground.

Hopefully this prayer would be over soon...

October 15, 1857 2:05 pm

Haji scans the variety of faces in the room as soon as he was done talking. Some fortunately played along and started forming a circle of joined hands. Others however, were rightly suspicious of the act.

"Right you are, who doesn't like games? Although I am being serious about this matter." He eyes down those that were still wary and gives them a reassuring smile. "But you'll just have to trust me on this everyone!" As soon as Haji is sure that nearly everyone was holding hands with one another, with all hands leading back to him he announces-

"Now everyone close your eyes! If not, it'll blind you for a good minute." But before anyone can ask what he meant, a bright blue light shimmers around the group. In a flash, those who were participating in the circle immediately vanished from the common room.


Just a second later the group reappears in the lobby of a newly rebuilt factory. It was all disorienting teleporting almost a dozen individuals, all of whom were not prepared for their little instant trip across the river. Haji- with sweat now beading down his forehead merely laughs and starts apologizing to those who had the unfortunate timing of keeping their eyes open.

"Alright everybody welcome to headquarters! I'm going to go retrieve the remaining souls that decided not to join in on our fun but Ms. Alice will take care of you from here!" The man in the green turban vanishes once more leaving the recruits still dazed.

Alice who stood watching all of the chaos unfold then approaches the group, a record book in her hands. Most of them have seen the woman before from being helped moving into SBH, adjust in London, or have met through knowing Edgar Kinsley. She lets those whose eyes were blinded recover before speaking to them,

"Welcome recruits to the Bovril Limited Factory. Or to us it will be the headquarters of our operations here in London." Her eyes fall upon familiar faces among the group but her tone is kept formal.

"I have to apologize for Haji's behavior... that's just his way of welcoming you all to the family." Not a moment after she mentions the crazy turban man, he reappears with the remaining recruits. He does the same thing with the last group that he did with the first before giving a salute to them all and vanishing once more.

"...As I was saying, I know we all called you here for the introductionary meeting. Although it will all be your first day here at the agency, we've planned something different in mind." Alice's face switches to a more serious tone as she flips through the record book in her hand. "Our city of London has fallen in the hands of those who will use their powers for something more wicked. Therefore, your first case begins today and how you handle it will determine if you truely are the right fit to serve the Queen's Hand."

The two double doors behind Alice creaks open and the group is ushered into the next room. There, old machinary fill the floor and in the center a woman of African decent stands beautifully tall, her eyes glow an intense gold and the lights seeping through the windows seem to create a spotlight on her. Alice leads the pack to the center and gives a slight bow to the woman dressed in colors that further compliment with her eyes.
"Ms. Yoma Jang will explain more details on the case with you. She will also be head of our intelligence department." Alice gives Yoma a nod before heading back to the lobby, passing the recruits along like a bunch of school children.

"Good afternoon my lovlies, I hope you like the circus because that's where our first assignment will be taking place." The woman spoke with a slight accent but you can tell by her demeanor she was no stranger to the city. And as you all gaze upon the woman who gives off almost angelical vibes, you begin to notice the machinary around you start to play an eerie tune.

It wasn't what Felix expected. The man told them to close his eyes and when he did he didn't feel anything happening around them. Was this some sort of joke? A sort of hazing to welcome the new members of the agency? Felix opened his eyes to question the man when the bright light swallowed them whole and everything turned white for a second, then another. And another. Felix could feel the floor under him give up but there was no sensation of falling. He could still feel the lady's hand on his but there was nothing but white light until he heard a very familiar voice welcome them. Felix pulled his hand back to rub his eyes. It took him a few seconds for the white to slowly fade from his vision. He could see the floor under him and the outlines of people now so he straightened out his blazer and composed himself back again. It seemed like he hadn't been the only person to keep their eyes open when the light came.

The group was led to another room when the rest of the member were brought to their location via Mr. Karim. The room looked like a factory with all the machinery lined up around the room. The woman in the middle of the room was not recognized by Felix but he could tell she was one of the chosen leaders. He stood to the far right of the small group and folded his hands behind his back, listening to Ms. Yoma Jang talk. While the woman had beautiful delicate feature he knew better than to think the woman was helpless. The way she held herself told him she was capable of defending herself in a dangerous situation. Her piercing abnormal colored eyes gave Felix a weird feeling he couldn't quite place.

When she spoke he couldn't help but to arch an eyebrow at her words. What did the circus have to do with their first assignment? Would the agency be taking them to a circus to learn how to do flips in midair and walk on his hands? Because Felix already knew that and he was ready to show off to the other members. Or were they going to fight clowns that possessed creepy abilities like sucking the fun out of you? Perhaps lions that walked in their hind legs and twirled around? Felix hoped there were no clowns involved as he looked down to check the pocket watch he carried around. They had the whole day and Felix was not looking forward to their first assignment.

Afro was silent as the others spoke, ironically praying for the prayer to be over. The lad dared to wonder just what exactly this man was planning to do, considering that everyone in the room was supposed to have special abilities that ordinary people did not. Did this rag-headed man have the ability to answer prayers? What if…--

His thoughts were interrupted upon the command relating to eyes being closed to prevent blindness. He didn’t understand at all what that meant but his eyes were already closed, so he hopefully didn’t have to worry about that. Though, even through his closed eyes, he could tell that something was out of the ordinary in terms of the lighting in the room, a bright flash touched his eyelids.

His head didn’t feel quite right, but Afro was quite sure that something was out of place. The air felt...thicker. It smelled odd. They were no longer in the same building as before, and his notions were only confirmed when he opened his eyes to look around. Afro retracted his hand from the circle and drew away. His glance stuck on the rag-head man.

As it seemed, with his following statements, they were now at the location that they were supposed to be. With this being the case, Afro still wasn’t sure if the man could answer prayers, but at least some form of instant transportation was within his range of capabilities. While interesting, with so much going on, the boy’s brain was going doubletime to analyze everything in the room.

The one that seemed to capture his attention first, was the one named Miss Alice. She was beautiful, like Miss Sofia, though, she didn’t seem to be as nice. At least not to Afro. As it were, she was introducing this factory as their headquarters. He wasn’t sure of how much sense it would make. Apparently, the rag-head man’s name was Haji, thus it was banked into his memory. The lad didn’t seem to have any real problem with the man’s behavior, though, what was more, Afro didn’t know him.

Afro was particularly attentive to her voice, opposed to the room, when she mentioned that something different was planned. As he had heard, there were others with abilities that worked against the Queen, which was to be expected, considering the circumstances of the city.

When he had worked under Mister O’Neil, he often was forced to do things that he knew local authorities wouldn’t approve of, much less the Queen. However, he wasn’t too phased by the statement of them getting right to work. He already had three days of rest. Afro’s promise relied on this task. He couldn’t fail.

His fingers grazed the shawl around his neck instinctively, and his eyes clicked over to where he saw doors opening. From out of it was a darker skinned woman, clearly standing out from the others within the room, especially with her glowing eyes. She seemed to radiate a form of familiarity that visibly comforted the lad to some effect. His tension eased some. She reminded him of family, though, he was sure he had never met her before in his life. He would have remembered a name such as ‘Yoma Jang’. It was much different than the typical english names.

It was amidst this abnormal feeling that he almost missed what the woman was actually saying. A circus…? What was a circus? Easily being able to connect the dots, it was clear that the music that followed had some form of correlation to what this ‘circus’ place was. He didn’t like this at all.

May Amai be watching over to help him be brave…

The shift of space and time left Sofia disorientated. Her hand went up to her head and she closed her eyes, the world was spinning around her. It felt like she was seasick. She took some slow and steady breaths, waiting for it to pass. She did not catch half of what Alice was explaining, having a tough time of regaining her composure. It would be a great relief if she could loosen her corset slightly, but that was completely out of the question. With a hand hovering over her stomach and a troubled expression on her face Sofia carefully followed the group into the next room.

Well then, it seems this is where we were supposed to be in the first place. She thought to herself. She would have much preferred her own methods of transportation.

They were left in the care of another woman. There was something about her Sofia could not appreciate, but perhaps this was just because she was ill tempered after having been whisked away by Haji. Miss Jang spoke very little, all she did say was that their first assignment was to take place in a circus somewhere. At any rate they were all chosen for their peculiar capabilities. Sofia was convinced they would succeed in their efforts to protect Queen and country from others with ill intentions.

She looked around the room, taking note of the young man who had previously introduced himself to her as Felix. He appeared worried at first glance but as he looked down at a pocket watch he was carrying Sofia deducted it may also be impatience. There was another face she recognized, barely a man himself Afro was among the company too. The beautiful brown skinned boy was as mysterious as he was troubled, Sofia found it quite difficult to fathom his behavior. He was unlike any child she´d seen. It made it challenging to help him. It only drove her to try harder. For now however she let him be.

Sofia strolled over to Felix at an easy pace, not that her dress allowed for anything faster.
"You seem troubled Mr Hansford...." She said calmly.
He had this ruffian charm to him Sofia found rather entertaining, it lifted her spirits.

---

Graham closed his eyes at Mr. Haji's warning. He very much liked keeping his eyesight in-tact. At his age, he was glad he did not require spectacles to assist his vision, something that went to the envy of some of his other aging peers. As they joined hands to form a circle and closed (or didn't) their eyes, the elderly man felt the environment change around them. He could feel the change in lighting through his eyelids, and the atmosphere was much different than that of the building they had just magically departed from.
Graham opened his eyes and looked around, releasing an amused hum. Interesting... he thought. He released the hands of the younger folk around him, and adjusted his bag again, though it has seemed to be un-disturbed by their sudden transportation.
The new environment was less warm, and less welcoming than the previous building, upon first impression. The floors were not as cushioned as the carpeted floors of the dormitory building, and the area was not quite as elegantly furnished as a mass-living quarters would be. The structure of the place, from what he could tell, seemed rigid. It resembled the inside of a manufacturing building, or a factory. And that's what he'd learn it was, from the words of the one who greeted them, Ms. Alice.
Graham listened intently to the briefing they were receiving-- apparently the city was being threatened by magic users life himself.. Seeing as the old man was quite out of the loop when it came to the magic world, he was expecting to learn new things, but perhaps more would be piled onto his plate than he expected. From here they were led into another room,the doors opening to reveal a woman surrounded by machinery lying around the room. And she had some info...apparently they were heading to the circus for their first mission.

How peculiar.. he thought as he heard the odd music emanate from the machinery around them. He'd always wanted to go to the circus, yet despite his age, he never enjoyed the experience.