Subject: A decision.
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Posted on: 2014-01-17 20:42:00 UTC

Tigereye Castellan Morgan sat at her desk, rubbing her temples. It had been a long two days. Her voice ached from all the discussions, her head hurt from all the decision-making, and - oh, yes - even the holographic, Hunger Games-tech collar was starting to make its weight known.

But, finally, it was coming to an end. The 'in' pile was down to the last few sheets of paper. Adjusting her collar, she turned the next leaf over, unsure whether she should be feeling hope or trepidation.

"'Election of an Opal Chairperson'," she read. "I'm sort of reconsidering that, actually. There's only half a dozen of us, right?" She glanced to her left, then grimaced. "I miss Amelia. All right... I guess we'll postpone the Chair appointment, and I can just keep doing all the admin. It's not like the security side of the Castellan's post is needed much."

She flipped the paper into the 'out' pile (out to where, she wasn't entirely sure) and turned to the next. "Oh, it's the Notary again, what does she want? ... 'expedite the finalisation of... underlying significance of the Spinel Promotor's duties... fully prepared to assume my duties...' Empty Night, did she get Legal to write this for her? No, you can't join early." Another sheet hit the 'out' pile.

"Right... oh, yes." The page, one of Morgan's original role descriptions for the Council, was covered in crossings-out, underlinings, and scribbled notes. "And the Reader wants to take this job? Poor thing... all right, let's see." Taking a red pen, she crossed out a few more lines, drew links between a handful of others, and finally signed the sheet with a flourish.

The Citrine Theorist - Responsible for resolving plotholes in the canonical depiction of Gallifrey.

"That'll have to do," Morgan muttered, putting the sheet aside. "Next... oh." 'Next' was a request from the Department of Personnel - how the Marquis had heard about the Council, Morgan had no idea - that 'you Time Lords do something constructive about the constant influx of your species into HQ'. At some point earlier in the day, Morgan had clipped a description of an 'Onyx Monitor', who would keep an eye on Time Lords in badfic, see if any were worth recruiting, and supervise any new recruits on behalf of the Council.

"And that's great," Morgan said, glancing to the side again, "but we don't have anyone to be the Monitor. I'm certainly not going to take the post... ugh, where's that list?"

The list in question - the master list of Council positions - turned out to be pinned to the wall in front of her. "The Ruby Shipwright's going to be overworked as it is," Morgan mused, "just like the Jade Warden. If I'm doing admin, that puts the Tigereye Castellan out of the running, too. The Amethyst Keeper... no, there's way too much 'other media' for that. Maybe the Sapphire Watcher...? I mean, they only make thirteen episodes a year, right?"

Unbidden, Morgan's gaze strayed back to the previous sheet of paper. "On the other hand," she said slowly, "most episodes won't make serious plotholes... so the Citrine Theorist will have the least to do." She nodded to her self, decided. "The Reader can take the Monitor's duties until we get someone to do it permanantly. I'll let her know the good news." She dropped the paper on the 'out' stack, and turned over the next.

"Right... decorations for the Council chamber..."

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