Judith Lee, eh? Alma's eyes roved over the room she had been escorted to. The 'staff' had been pleasant enough, but a lot of it had felt forced. We're new blood, I guess. They know that. It was the steel behind their smiles, in the depths of their eyes, that gave them away. Alma was used to dealing with people that could be considered dangerous, but those smiles and those eyes bespoke a world of experience; and a boredom with their position. I could be overthinking it. Doubt it, but I could be. The name 'Lee' had been thrown around a couple of times, though she never caught the entire context. All she knew is that 'Lee' had dominion over the small group.
Handler, that's the right word. Alma chuckled reclining as best she could, in her uncomfortable chair. She had never liked the phrase, but Magi did need to be Handled from time to time. Especially those who had no fucking respect for the position they'd been afforded. Whether it was by luck, or some divine guidance; they had all been touched by the Malakim Records. Alma, for one, felt lucky that she got to be among the gifted. Before, she had always considered herself talented; now she was magic. It was awesome.
The resort...well, that too had been something awesome. She didn't get to spend much time lounging around, but the Sun felt nice and Florida was a hell of a change of pace. Her thoughts were interrupted by the flickering of a screen and the entry of Judith Lee. She was more impressive than Alma had imagined, and looked pretty tough. Probably has to be, to handle a buch of asshat Magi. She turned, slightly, to look at her dear brother. His eyebrow was raised, the obvious question put forward, and his face flushed.
"Aw," she cooed, sarcasm dripping, "how you holdin' up, bro?" It was quiet enough to go unnoticed beneath the briefing; which she heard, and was deeply curious about. She smiled in return, fanning herself lazily with an imaginary fan; putting a hand to her mouth, mimicing and old-time southern belle. That was just a momentary joke, though. Alma knew better than to make a Handler mad; or draw attention to herself in a meeting like this.
Greece, huh? That sounded exotic. Though the reason for going sounded less-than-pleasing. Necromateion? Doesn't sound familiar. Underworld Magic stuff...ew. "The dead should stay that way," she mumbled, rolling a pen between her fingers, "no point in the word existing if they just get back up for breakfast." The paper before her was empty, by her standards, slightly out of the folder she'd brought with her. It was covered in doodles and half-finished lyrics, though the folder its self was for 'official notes'.
Judith kept talking, informing them of their destination and goal in this mission. It was the first time Alma could really remember being called on for something that sounded this big. Talk about exciting! Get to go all kinds of places! Maybe this gig isn't as bad as I thought. That, though, reminded her of her guitar. She really wanted to shred. Bet Miss Handler won't let me take it with. Lame.
One thing stood out, though, and shook away all her little thoughts. "Capture the Flag?!" It was an outburst, one she barely contained; coming out an excited whisper, rather than the yelp it almost was. That was one hell of a twist. She eyed Henryk, again, raising an eybrow of her own; the silent question put forward. Think we'll get to use our Spells? It seemed, however, that they wouldn't be the only ones attending. Other Handlers were mentioned. Alma was curious, but the game afoot had her heart aflutter. She loved competing. She loved winning.
The screen showed the resort, certain areas marked; distances made clear. Then the divisions were made clear. She held her hand aloft, waiting for Henryk to complete the high-five. She didn't say it, but he would know her sentiment. North Team, baby, fuck yeah! Alia and Akyna composed the rest of their crew. She knew them, by name, and little else. Alma might have said a few words to one, or the other, but they certainly weren't friends; yet.
Gonna have to change that! Can't be working with people you don't know at least a little about.
Questions were asked, but not the one Alma wanted answered.
"Yes, ma'am," Alma's hand shot up at the prospect of being able to ask a question, "this isn't about Greece, though. I figure we'll get the low-down on the specifics, along the way." She folded her arms across her modest breasts and met the Handler's eyes. "Can we use our Spells in this game?"