Annamaria's feet thumped onto the floor of the floo, and she sneezed as some of the dust flew up in her face. Sneezing again, she stepped out of the floo entrance, shaking her red hair out a bit and dusting herself off a bit. She then made her way over to the lifts, her dark green robes trailing just slightly behind her as she walked.

Jessica enters the booth and tries to vanish the rust on the windows, but it doesn't move. After many feeble moves, she gives up and moves to the floor. At least that wasn't as hard as the windows. She goes of to the supply closet to get something a bit stronger to get rid of the rust. 15 minutes laterJessica walks back in and tries to vanish it again, and it worked. Oh, great, why didn't I think of this before, she thought

Egypt quickly got off the lifts from level 10. This was a complete disaster and embarrassment to the British Ministry. She strode over to the visitors telephone box and disconnected it and locked the door. She then went over to the fireplaces and pressed a button that closed all the flutes. Everything was locked up on her end. She needed to get up to transportation.


Egypt went back and opened up the fireplaces to the Ministry workers. They needed to get back and forth to work after all.

Herminny is such a clutz, she to the manges to use floo network to the ministry but she uses too muc floo powder which blows up in her face tat covers her from ead to toe as se takes off for the ministry, when se arrives she wises se could dissapear, ow embarassing for her first working in the Miss-USe of Muggle Artifacts Department covered in soot.

As the green flames die down, Cordelia steps from the fireplace. She walks confidently towards the lifts waiting to take her to the correct level. Today is her first day on the job and she is ready to embark on what she hopes is an exciting career as an Unspeakable.

Shawn stepped out of the fireplace. He was dressed in his best set of robes and was busy tugging at his tie. Why he had to make an appearance in the Ministry's International Cooperation office was beyond him, but he'd received a summoning and here he was.

Shawn stepped into the rush of the crowd and soon found himself swept along with them. He managed to find the visitors station and tried to make his way over to it.

With his robes as dark as night looking perfectly smooth and clean --though that certainly did not stop him from fluttering both of his hands around his robes, trying to get rid off of dust that was not really there, or the unexistent wrinkles-- Jean Claude Moreau stepped out of the fireplace, as he wrinkled his nose, and combed his hair distractedly with one olive-tone hand.

Using the Floo network was not his favourite way to travel --quite the opposite, actually. And, of course the thought that he might miss the birthday party of his lovely Isabelle, did not do wonders to his mood.

Now, where were the British authorities? Nowhere in sight, it seemed. Frowning a little, Moreau took a deep breath and started to calm himself down before the Britons finally decided to arrive and meet up with him. He wanted no more than to get this thing over with quickly, and it seemed that this would not be the case. Unfortunately.

Reagan had been standing across from the Floo Fireplaces, leaning against the wall while she waited for the French officials to arrive. Spotting an unfamiliar face, who Reagan had an inkling was one of the men she was looking for, she strode across the atrium and greeted him with a meaningful look, "Hello, sir. Would you be the French official come to visit the Law Enforcement Department?" She didn't want to go blabbing about the true purpose of their visit, just in case this man was not one of those she was looking for.

Syd, hands in his pockets, strolled out toward the visitor's entrance. He looked around for his people and saw that they weren't here yet, but Reagan and some guy in dark robes were standing by the fireplaces. Whistling a peppy little tune, he strolled over to them and walked up to stand next to Reagan. Perhaps Forrester was still trying to wrangle the Aurors Syd needed.

"So this the French guy we're waitin' for?" Syd asked, looking the man up and down.

Careful to dust down any dust from his ebony robes, Alexandre Banlui took hesitant steps out of the fireplace, having just used the Floo system. Never his preferred way to travel, he struggled to mask the disgust as his hands swept over the dark material with practiced ease.

His gaze scanned the room warily; his first visit to the British Ministry was not under pleasant circumstances in any case, and his only wish was that this would be quick, easy. An in-and-out job, nothing more. All hopes were diminished when he noted the "welcoming party" for his fellow Auror and himself. Coming to a stop just a few steps from the two Britons, he greeted all three with a curt nod.

In-and-out. That was all Banlui wanted.

Impatience soon started to take over Moreau, and more than once the thirty-five year old man checked his watch, as he wondered why in Merlin's name the Britons were taking so long. In truth, he had only been there for only three minutes, but clearly, patience was not one Jean Claude's attributes.

Ah, finally!

Taking a few steps towards the two people that had arrived, and were very obviously addressing to him, Jean Claude gave the two of them a curt, but polite nod. "Yes, that would be me, ma'am," answered Jean Claude courteously to both them, his accent bareably noticeable. "Alexandre," murmured the man politely upon the arrival of his partner

Deciding that it would be best to simply ignore the stare the man was giving him, Jean Cluade spoke again, only looking at the woman this time, for in his opinion, she seemed to be in the one in charge--or that's what he thought anyway, "Where can we, er--discuss the reason why we are both needed here, madame?" he asked, looking around the place packed with Ministry employees, a meaningful look painted on his olive-toned face.

Jessica walked into the Floo and Visitor's entrance and started cleaning the place up a bit.She started with the brooming and dusting first and then went onto the scrubbing after. Two hours later, finally pleased with her job, she goes back out again.

Evaline rushed out of the elevators and hurried straight over to the floo network entrances to the Ministry of Magic. She was a little bit behind and said "Sorry," as she skidded to a halt next to Regan and Syd.

From the looks of it both Auors had just gotten there and did not seem to please. "Hello," she greeted to the two of them with a smile and noticed one seem to have his nose stuck up in the air already. She was not fond of judgmental people.

She heard the other French Auror ask where they were going to discuss this and she thought it was her office so she piped up. "I believe we were going to meet on my Level." she responded.

Reagan extended her hand to both of the visiting French aurors and introduced herself, "My name is Reagan Taylor. I'm Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. It is very nice to meet you both. I only wish we could have done so under more pleasant pretenses." Reagan frowned ever so slightly before gesturing to Syd and introducing him, "This gentleman is Syd Wordsmith, Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

Reagan heard Evaline arriving abruptly beside her and introduced her as well, "This here is Ms. Evaline Bass, Head of International Magical Cooperation. And she is correct in saying that we will be using the Conference Room in her Department to discuss this matter. Won't you let us escort you to the lifts?"

Evaline extended her hand to the two Auror's, for them to shake, just as Reagan had done. "Nice to meet you," she gestured back as well after Reagan finished introducing her.

She then decided to inform Reagan about her conference and so she spoke up. "Yes. We were going to, but I was hoping we could move this little to Level 2 if thats alright. There is a meeting going on right now, and I doubt these kind gentlemen want to wait for it to be free." she offered.

"Pleasure to meet you all," murmured the man politely, before shaking hands briefly with Taylor and Bass, thinking that he had been right when assuming Reagan Taylor was the one in charge; she certainly outrank the rest of the Ministry employees standing around him. "Jean Claude Moreau, at your service," said the French, introducing himself for it was the polite thing to do. "And this is Alexandre Banlui," continued Jean Claude in the same breath, seeing how quiet his fellow Auror was. The sooner the introductions were over, the sooner this entire thing would end and he would be able to go home to Isabelle.

Upon hearing Bass and Taylor's explanation to where the meeting would be held, Jean Claude nodded, looking a bit thoughtful. Naturally, it would be best to do it somewhere that was a little more private. "Of course. Lead the way, madame."

Or not.

As soon as Jean Claude got ready to follow Taylor, Evaline claimed that there was some kind of meeting in her domains. And she was right--he did not want to wait. But of course, Moreau was not about to point that out. "Whatever works for you, works for me," he commented courteously. Really, he just wanted the entire thing to end; he wanted to go home.

While contemplating a new place to meet, Reagan joked, "Well, I can't be too disappointed when I hear that a room is being used to get some work done, now can I? We'll just move ourselves to Level Two. Perhaps since we anticipate this will likely be a brief encounter, we could simply move to the Detention Center," and here she lowered her voice so only the small group surrounding her could hear, "where the culprit whom you've come to extradite is being held. Does that work for everyone?" She assumed these men would likely want to ask many questions about the events that led to the apprehension of the woman in custody, and she anticipated that the Detention Center might be the best and most secure place for such questions.

Ah - it seemed the newest addition to the group meant they would be moving things along. Banlui forced a smile at the newcomer in response to her greeting as the introductions were held. A man of few words, spoken only when absoloutely necessary, he allowed Moreau to take the liberty of introducing him as he shook the hands of the Ministry Officials. He kept his gaze firm and steady as he examined the British who stood in front of him.

They seemed a responsible lot, in Banlui's opinion . . . so he wasn't clear on exactly how they'd let the nature of the visit come about. Keeping his unsettling conclusions to himself, he tuned in again as Taylor spoke about which room.

His expression darkened somewhat at the mention of the culprit. 'It sounds like a reasonable plan,' he said, breaking his silence. 'Whatever is easiest for you will work, so long as we can take it.' He spat the word out dispassionately, not thinking that the culprit was worth any respectable title or name. His short-temper was, once again, getting the better of him and he reigned it in before it got out-of-hand. With a glance at Moreau, he lapsed back into his silence once more.

It would be easiest, he reasoned, to just get this over and done with with as little fuss as was possible. And letting his temper about what this thing had done would not help matters one bit. All Banlui could do now was pray that this would be quick from hereon in.

"The detention center sounds just fine. I'll take ya'll up and get this mess sorted out. Hopefully we can all be on good terms, huh?" he said, smiling in that pleasant yet awkward manner.

His American Southern accent was far more noticeable than the French dudes' accents. Hopefully the Aurors had dealt with that horrible woman without too much trouble. They were capable, but no one had really dealt with an murder in the building so he didn't know how shaken up they really were on the inside.

"I've got plenty of tea there too if ya'll would like a cup."

Evaline nodded and released her grasp after the Auror who seem to be the more outspoken one introduce both of them. He seemed to think Reagan was the leading person, so when he spoke it was more directed at Reagan than Syd and her. She was ok with this, she didn't want to let split that she really was not happy with any of the French after all that's been going through.

Reagan finally answered about the room, and at least she wasn't to disappointed. "I didn't think you would mind," Evaline responded and then added in agreement, "That sounds perfectly fine with me. Detention Center it is."

If Jean Claude was honest with himself, he had to admit that these Britons looked fairly responsible and committed to their jobs. Now, how had they let this. . . situation happen right under their very noses? It truly was hard to come up with an answer for that. Not to mention that there more important matters that needed to be discussed, so he simply let it drop and focus on the discussion developing before him.

"As I said before, what works for you, works for me," mused Moreau with a nod of his head, as he ignored Banlui's slip of referring the culprit as 'it', for he agreed with his fellow auror, but wasn't quite sure if the Britons did, as well. "Of course, Mr. Wordsmith," murmured Jean Claude, agreeing to both of the comments the man had made.

Thinking that they had spent enough time discussing the location of their meeting, Jean Claude forced the muscles of his face to allow a smile to creep on his lips, before opening his mouth to speak yet again, "Detention Center it is, then? Care to lead the way?" Though he still sounded perfectly courteous with the smile still in place, the French allowed impatience to leak on his tone.

"Right. This way then," he said as he tried not to focus on the French guy's weirdo smile.

He motioned with his hand and walked toward the lifts, whistling. These French guys needed to lighten up a bit. Sure it was a murder, but hadn't they dealt with hundreds of these by now?

(OOC: One of the Aurors has posted in the Detention Center so go ahead and post there.)

The green flames bellowed around in the fireplace and a slightly dizzy Tristan stepped out from the fireplace.
He took a deep breath to steady himself and began to dust off the mess left on his midnight blue robes.
This better not ruin my new clothes... he thought darkly. He had not flooed anywhere for a long time, and since he had a fireplace in his room, he thought it would be interesting to remind himself. He took out a bottle from his big, faithfull sidebag, and drank a bit of water and headed for the lifts. Next time, he would apparate into work instead.

Helding the Jar tightly, Moreau reached the Floos and Visitor's area. Taking out his wand, he tapped it lightly to one side of the crystal jar, and watched it as it became ten times smaller. That way it would fit perfectly inside his pocket.

Nodding to himself, and pocketing the jar with the culprit inside, Moreau stepped inside the fire place, took some of the powder, said the words, "French Ministry of Magic" loud and clearly before letting the powder drop, and then he was gone.

Just minutes now ... Banlui could feel the relief surging through his veins that he was almost free of the English Ministry as he reached the fireplaces, trying his best to mask his disgust once more. Noting how Jean Claude had already left - his presence was somewhat absent - he merely cast one glance around the atrium. Joy of joys.

Seizing himself a handful of Floo powder, he entered the fireplace. 'French Ministry of Magic,' he said clearly before letting the powder drop from his hands. With the oh-so-familiar flames, he was gone.