MagOffice - Stuff With Civvy

Magtok blinks. That is a lot of money. He had thought he'd have a bit more time to prepare, maybe divide up the money between three teams of HALO members, but...jeez, now he has to get a MagClone all the way to Skyside as soon as possible! He can't just do the smart thing and ask Civvy to hold off on that and save her god-magicks for later, because apparently according to MagLogic, that would be impolite and ungracious!

The very last thing he can do is let the silly pink-haired girl think she did something silly and inconveniently timed. Even if it'd only take a second to fix the problem, somehow it's the end of the world if Mag complains even a little about it, or asks for her to wait a couple hours to get a team together. Urgh. Honestly Magtok, you're here to lead HALO, not fuss over what pretty pink princesses think of you!

"I'll have another MagClone get right on that. Expect a few new faces on your welcome route after I've saved the day." The cyborg says, without a hint of trepidation, despite the above two paragraphs. He drops the loot into his pockets, and it all just vanishes right away.

"So anyways, that said and done, where would BR be hanging out? He's probably my best bet for finding another veteran here who won't beat me up with my own arm." Magtok meant that as a joke, but he freezes after saying so, and the implications of what he signed himself up for only begins to really settle in now. Oh gods, there's no way he's going to be able to run this place, is there? He ought to just run away, screaming, right here and right now, while he still has some dignity left. His pride will suffer, but there's no way it'll hurt anywhere near as much as what's waiting for him if he insists on sticking with this absurd course of action.


MagOffice - Stuff After Civvy

Magtok steps forward, attempts to immediately snatch the paper out of her hand, and put it down on the desk, where he'll press a bright red rubber stamp down on the paper, before handing it back.

"Easiest decision I'll make today. The armory's down that way. The paper goes in the filing cabinet over there, under 'T'. Put it under Topaz, not Tempest or Thalia, I'm going by last names for people who have them."

The stamp says 'APPROVED', by the way. Of course, Thalia probably could've figured that out on her own, even without looking at the paper.

"Oh, and I don't know all of what happened, but I heard enough from Wall. For what it's worth, I'm sorry that things turned out that way, and that Marcy didn't do the right thing, and stay dead after the last time I killed him."