Leave it to me as I find a way to be | bianca

[cade owen woodward]

template by punki of adoxography

consider me a satellite forever orbiting

I knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 3, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

Cade absentmindedly touched his chin with his fingertips, he wasn't one to not appear cleanshaven when given a choice. Though he knew this would not be the last time. That island had appeared and taken over the news cycles. But in the meantime, there was an agreement to also report on the more normal things. People needed to be put at ease in the meantime. The occasion? A student art show and Cade could have easily sent a junior reporter to cover the story--which he did, but he had a fondness of the arts and believed that even the most local art shows should be supported. Perhaps one of these students would showcase their art in one of magical London's more extensive galleries one day. Cade slowly strolled around, noting one of a woman very quickly without clothes. He quickly turned a corner as he'd rather not stand and gawk at it as he saw some of the younger students doing so.

It made him chuckle a bit to himself, he appreciated a beautiful woman, but he found that gawking was not the correct approach in his experience. There was a bit of a crowd, and it was a Saturday evening after all, but the ambiance was very relaxing. He almost preferred this to the hustle and bustle of a bar. It made for better conversation. In his mind, he was still that young reporter out to prove himself and hanging around all the pubs in magical England hoping to overhear something he could report or a juicy piece of gossip that would give him a lead to follow. Cade missed those days, but he was also happy in his current role as he helped drive the direction of what was reported to the public, which he did not take likely. As he stopped to look at a unique painting that was instead a mashup of colors, he saw a woman looking curiously at the next painting over. Though he couldn't see her full face and only the side profile, she was familiar, and Cade never forgot a face and especially one that looked like that. He turned and slowly approached and stood next to her.

She would have easily seen him--one did not approach a highly trained Auror from behind (he learned a very long time ago). "Ms. Rivera." He announced himself, they had met previously when he had been helping report on the Azkaban escapees, though it had been some time since they had last spoken. "Is the Ministry sending its finest to local art shows now?" He asked with a smile? He wasn't looking for an angle, though at least not yet. He hadn't expected to see Aurors here, after all. But there was nothing wrong with polite conversation after all.

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

3 January 2026

Bianca was hurtling rapidly towards a burn-out. The island had thrown the Ministry into chaos, and her office had been spending the last few days playing catch-up as they attempted to puzzle out the implications. Her captain had sent officers to the island, like every other branch of Interpol, and the rest were working overtime to ensure things didn’t fall apart on the mainland while they were understaffed and overextended. She wasn’t looking forward to her inevitable trip. The Recapture Unit needed to ensure that Azkaban escapees hadn’t gone flocking to the island in the hopes of leaving their jurisdiction. But she’d never quite gotten over the fear of the unknown that had manifested after the incident, and Bianca had the creeping feeling that something terrible was waiting on the horizon. To escape these increasingly morbid thoughts, Bianca had counter-intuitively turned to the Daily Prophet. She completed her usual ritual – first scanning the Arts and Culture section before flipping back to the major headlines – when a little notice had caught her attention.

The quality of a student art show was yet to be determined, but Bianca would have taken almost anything at this point. It was a Saturday, but she’d already been at the office for several hours, and she was planning to return after too. She was examining a particularly eye-catching piece (although it was unclear whether that was a positive thing at this point) when she felt the familiar sensation of being watched. Her gaze didn’t turn although she acknowledged Cade’s presence with a simple “Woodward.” She intended to finish her close examination of the painting before entering the ring, as it were.

There wasn’t any clear way to define their dynamic except that their respective careers had mostly moved in parallel. While Bianca had been busy climbing the ranks of the Ministry, she’d watched Cade Woodward transform from an intern that could make the other trainees swoon, to a reporter doing fluff pieces and looking to push Ministry investigations forward, to an editor with an infamous name that any self-respecting Ministry employee would avoid in the hallways. Bianca finally turned to examine Cade, and observed impassively that he was missing his usual quill and notebook. “Naturally,” she responded easily, “I’m always waiting for the Bat-Signal. The view here is as good as anywhere else.” She’d gotten multiple comparisons to a stiff guard in the past, and her Muggleborn friends sometimes dared to extend it to Batman. It had annoyed her to no end, but she’d decided to lean into it. She would have preferred to take the simple solution and smash some heads together, but her captain had already recently warned her about her workplace conduct again. “You, on the other hand,” Bianca continued without missing a beat, “must have pissed off your editor if he’s sent you to cover fluff pieces at local galleries.”

cade owen woodward

[cade owen woodward]

template by punki of adoxography

consider me a satellite forever orbiting

I knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 3, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

Bianca didn't seem that particularly pleased to see him, that wasn't a surprise, and he'd long ago stopped taking offense to such behavior towards him from Ministry personnel. He was doing his job just as much as they were doing there's, and that involved him asking for secrets they were keeping. There was a delicate balance between what the public needed to know and when they should know about it. His involvement with Ourobrous had let him in on some critical information, but nothing that he was able to report, much to his own chagrin, but he bided his time. Cade was a patient man, and he could afford to wait for this information to get out at the right time and possibly by other means. He thought of his previous conversation with Beatrice and her theories, she was remarkably observant, and he'd had to work hard to act surprised by her words the last time they had spoken in-depth about the topic.

Cade used to hang around the Ministry offices a lot more when he'd been a junior reporter. He had been so young and bright-eyed, looking for the big story that would propel his career and reputation forward and garner him the respect of his peers and his Editors. That would have permitted him to report on the more significant cases and not fluff pieces. Long time Ministry Law enforcement personnel were very familiar with Cade. However, he was sure they had mixed feelings about his position as Editor versus pestering them with his notebook in hand. Her tone came off very blunt, sarcastic, and a little bored. But Cade didn't mind. If he walked away from every person who gave him less than a welcoming tone, he'd be out of a job. Still, his brow furrowed a small amount--a curious expression as he missed her reference. "Bat-signal?" He asked, it wasn't something he was familiar with or maybe something the kids were into these days. However, the conversation quickly turned to his own presence here at the art show, and he couldn't help but smile in response.

"I'm not working." He replied simply, turning to look at the piece she had been so interested him until he interrupted her. "Would it surprise you to know that I actually like art?" Although he was hardly artistic himself, he had learned to appreciate it a lot more. All those fluff pieces he'd been forced to write had introduced him to new parts of life he might not have experienced otherwise.

[Bianca Alia Rivera]

Bianca rolled her eyes slightly at Cade’s visible confusion about the Bat-Signal. So he came from a magical background. It wasn’t a sufficient excuse in and of itself, as Muggleborns were evidence that it was possible to come from one world and still have knowledge of and participate in the other. She briefly toyed with the idea of leaving the conversation there, because wizards really were hopeless when it came to non-magical society. But…how often did one have the opportunity to give a reporter bad information? It wasn’t work-related, so she wasn’t risking a lecture from her captain, and…it might teach him not to go fishing for sensitive information with her. She was tempted. “In the Muggle world, the Bat-Signal is used by civilians to alert police to a crime in progress,” Bianca began in an even tone. It was easy for her to keep a straight face and not ruin her fun. “If Muggle police see it in the sky, they know to go investigate.” It wouldn’t take him long to debunk that claim, really only the next time he slipped it into a conversation with a Muggleborn…but that was a conversation she desperately wanted to see. Almost enough to risk entering the gates of Hell – well, the Daily Prophet Headquarters.

His claim that he wasn’t working was dubious at best, and Bianca narrowed her eyes slightly in disbelief. A man like Cade was always working. If Bianca chose to observe him for the rest of the event, she’d probably notice him lingering on the edges of other peoples' conversations, and flashing that same charming smile he was giving her now to every patron in the gallery. Still, Bianca didn’t have the patience for stakeouts, so she instead asked bluntly, “So if I asked you to empty out your pockets, I wouldn’t find your Quick-Quotes Quill?” She shook her head in disbelief. Cade had turned to examine the painting, but Bianca kept her eyes trained on him. Journalists relied on catching their targets by surprise, or while they were distracted. She’d seen too many coworkers of hers punished for accidentally saying the wrong thing to the wrong person – and she wasn’t interested in walking away from this event with a meaningless conversation and a demotion.

“How interesting for you,” Bianca replied indifferently at his claim that he liked art. She pushed on ruthlessly before he could respond. “Let’s stop circling the point. You didn’t approach the only Ministry employee here by accident. You should know by now that it doesn’t matter what you’re here to investigate, my answers will stay the same. Maybe you have enough Seer blood to guess before you ask.” Bianca could feel her impatience flaring, so she huffed slightly and tamped it down. She could hear Ana’s voice in the back of her head making a snarky comment about her crossed arms, so she forced herself to uncross them and instead checked her phone for the time. Her lips pinched slightly in displeasure as she glanced back up at Cade. “You’ve already taken three minutes of my break, so I suggest the rest of the conversation stays brief. Say something nice about this painting, and I’ll agree and walk away.”

cade owen woodward

[cade owen woodward]

consider me a satellite
forever orbiting

i knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 03, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

Despite all his traveling and all his experiences in the world thus far, he still found information and references unfamiliar to him. This 'bat-signal' so far was one of them, and his expression was curious and hoped that Bianca would elaborate on this further. Her eye roll was not missed, but he would have been surprised if a Ministry official had not rolled their eyes at least once at him during a conversation. Bianca explained that it was a muggle reference and used in their law enforcement. He supposed there was little reason to doubt her considering she worked in Magical Law Enforcement, and he'd hardly had a chance to interact with that side of things. His only sense of doubt came from how easily she had explained this to him. In all the years he had ever spoken to her, she'd never been so forthcoming. He recalled asking Bianca her name once, and she merely replied with a glare and a 'none of your business'. Though the next time he had asked, she had actually answered. " Well, I learn something new every day it seems." He responded with an easy smile.

She wasn't convinced, and her face quickly told him that more than her words ever would. That didn't mean her words weren't quick as she quickly went for a challenge. " In fact, you would not." He assured her, and he was telling the truth, but also he wouldn't be caught dead with a Quick-Quotes Quill as it never quite captured the facts as they happened or were spoken. He preferred self-writing quills, which he always had on hand. Usually, he was lucky to remember what he needed to without needing to cause a spectacle of taking out a quick and paper to jot down notes. His attempts at regular conversation seemed to be failing him. It was…intriguing. There actually were not many no-nonsense employees at the Ministry and plenty of them that loved conversation and complaining mostly, and a lot of leads could be garnered that way. He wasn't looking for a story in particular with Bianca, but he still felt the need to take a different approach now.

A much younger journalist might have been offended by her attempts to get rid of him, but he was calm and stared at the painting a moment longer before looking back at the spirited woman. " I’m merely here to look at art.” He assured her, and truthfully she had caught his eye as one of the prettiest women in the room, but he felt he might get hex if he commented on that point. ” Journalists are capable of regular conversation, just as much as Ministry employees are.” He spoke as a reminder. Most of his life was work at this point in his life, but he could spare a minute or two to experience regular life. ”I think it's easy to make work our whole lives and forget how to stop and just admire a painting.”

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[Bianca Alia Rivera]

There was a method to her madness, an underlying motivation as to why Bianca could appear so caustic to most people. It wasn’t only because she enjoyed the reputation of being difficult to approach (although she couldn’t deny the twinge of satisfaction that came from scaring off nosy interns). No, it was a strategy, a means to an end. Bianca dealt with all sorts of people in her line of work. Ignorant interns who dogged the senior Ministry employees searching for a mentor, upstart journalists who felt entitled to a story based on the badge they wore, career criminals who thought themselves untouchable. Bianca didn’t have the patience to coddle weak-minded people, those who presented a strong façade that quickly crumbled at the first sign of confrontation. Her strategy was usually severe enough to scare away all but the most determined, and those people – well, Bianca enjoyed slowly breaking down those people.

So she felt a flicker of irritation at Cade’s even presence. He didn’t seem deterred by her blunt tone, and in fact – in fact it was jarring to see him studying her with the same degree of scrutiny she was currently giving him. It served as a reminder that despite his easy smiles and charming nature, Cade Woodward was clever. Every bit a Ravenclaw, and not the Gryffindor most assumed him to be. His calm responses weren’t accidental, because it forced her to play nice in return or risk causing a scene. And Bianca frowned slightly at the realization, even as she fought the growing urge to cross her arms again. As quick as she’d been to call him out about his quill, he responded that he wasn’t carrying one on him. The spark in his eyes and curve of his lips assured her he was telling the truth, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had only caught her on a technicality. He didn’t need a quill to do his damage.

“That’s a bad comparison,” Bianca finally said after a lengthy pause, her tone edged with steel. She hadn’t contested his claim that he was only here to look at art, and that was an unusual concession on her part. But she couldn’t push back against his motives without using magic, and using Legilimency on a reporter was enough to get her into trouble. So she moved on as if she hadn’t heard it, because she would never admit defeat. “It assumes that Ministry employees are capable of regular conversation,” she continued, “or that a conversation with you is worth devoting time outside work for.” It was by far the rudest thing she had said so far, but Bianca didn’t care what sort of impression she left with Cade. It was the way journalists operated – as soon as one source proved to be a dead end, they moved on to the next one. And she still didn’t entirely believe that he wasn’t here for work. She finally turned back to examine the painting again, mostly because his final observation made her flush slightly in embarrassment. “Sometimes work is all someone has. They need it to find meaning in their life, because they can’t find it anywhere else. Even from an atrocious painting.”

cade owen woodward

[cade owen woodward]

consider me a satellite
forever orbiting

i knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 03, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

Cade had always been incredibly patient. It’s what was likely to have placed him in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor as both his older sisters had been. But his life experiences had also taught him to push when it was necessary and wait a moment if needed. Following a thread didn’t do one any good if you caught up to it before it was done unraveling. In all his years with The Daily Prophet, he had met many different personalities and many not so different from Bianca’s. Abrasive to deter people from speaking to her longer than necessary, but Cade found that a few of her answers were inconsistent with the personalities he had seen before. He was familiar in a sense with most Ministry Employees, and he knew she’d been an Auror before moving to Interpol. The Prophet tended to track department moves to know who to talk to if they felt needed reporting.

That personality would have made a great journalist, but he supposed it might have made an efficient Interpol Agent. Cade had interacted with a few, there was another woman who was about as friendly as Bianca was, but she was much more standoffish, a surprise considering her family background. For a Journalist, it was essential to have the interpersonal skills to talk to people, get information, and blend in. But true to his word, he was not here to work, he really was taking a bit of a night off, but his ears were always listening much as he figured her eyes were always watching. Bianca disagreed with his comparison of Daily Prophet employees and Ministry Employees, and he couldn’t say he could really argue. Her words were brazen, but again he wasn’t bothered. The rejection was standard for a reporter, but so was persistence.

”And that’s assuming Ministry employees aren’t worth talking to aside from getting the latest scoop?” He responded, a half playful smile on his face. There was distrust in both their careers, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have friends in the Ministry. He did though they were few. Truthfully he was intrigued, not because this was going to end in a story, but for how long their careers had run side by side, he’d wondered how she had ended up here. Cade was reminded of his siblings, his sister mainly, and her decline over those number of years and how she’d become so angry and frustrated with the world. People weren’t mad without reason, and he knew that just from his own experiences and talking to many people over the years. Why was Bianca so angry? ”Well there is certainly more to life than work and atrocious paintings, thankfully. I suppose one just has to be open to it.”

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[Bianca Alia Rivera]

He really was frustrating – if only because he hadn’t yet walked into any of the traps Bianca had set out. Her life was a curious mix of self-imposed isolation mixed with the necessity of forced socialization, due to the interpersonal nature of her job. She interacted with many kinds of people on a daily basis, and that required her to read them quickly and gauge their intentions. Separate friend from foe. Those skills could grow rusty with time, so Bianca had never found herself in a situation where she could be permitted to isolate herself completely from the community. But most people in her life had left her in the past few years, that fact couldn’t be denied. Her father and brother, although those particular circumstances had been outside of anyone’s control, friends and coworkers who had found the recovery process too intense after the incident that had shaken her to her core and landed her at a desk job for several years. No, very few people had stayed, and really only Leo in any significant capacity.

So most people weren’t worth the effort, and that conclusion had only been reached because they had proven it to be so. Bianca had no interest in reaching out anymore – she’d realized soon enough that opening yourself to other people also meant opening yourself to almost inevitable pain. It seemed an unnecessary weakness to have. She wasn’t happy, exactly, but she could live with her life as it was. Long hours at the Ministry, longer hours with Heliopath, and quiet conversations with Leo. She’d found stability in that routine, and couldn’t imagine anything that would ever interest her enough to change it – or worse, destroy it completely. Small talk with Cade didn’t fit into her paradigm. He represented, at worst, the potential to damage her career. And at best? Yet to be determined. She had a hard time pinning down what he wanted.

Bianca had narrowed her eyes at the painting, as if she could will it to disappear with the force of her gaze, but she inhaled sharply at Cade’s question and began to respond automatically. “Well-“ she began, although she cut herself off quickly as she glanced at him and noticed the playful tilt to his smile. The humor present in his tone and eyes seemed out-of-place in her otherwise serious and orderly life. She shot him a wry look, and couldn’t help the bite of sarcasm that entered her tone as she changed her mind and answered differently. “And have you found Ministry employees to be a riveting source of conversation when you aren't cross-examining them? It seems difficult to believe we'd have much in common at all.” It was easy to avoid the pitfalls of such a dangerous relationship if one avoided any contact completely. As much as the imagery was used in Ministry offices, reporters weren’t leeches -- they played an important role in ensuring the public remained vigilant and informed, which was a key complement to law enforcement capabilities. But nobody enjoyed having their work questioned and criticized. His final words were eerily similar to what Felix had told her only a few days earlier, and Bianca was displeased at the thought that two separate people had now implied there was something missing from her life. He claimed there was more to life than work, but… “Why should there be?” Bianca found herself asking in a reserved tone, biting her lip once she realized she’d spoken out-loud.  Why was he still talking to her? Why was she still talking to him? He’d probably been expecting an easy conversation, an exchange of small talk on the artwork or other meaningless topics. She supposed he was going to learn that she despised empty conversations. “The higher you fly, the harder you fall. What could possibly be worth it?”

cade owen woodward

[cade owen woodward]

consider me a satellite
forever orbiting

i knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 03, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

Cade watched as she paused in her response. It was his job to read people. He had a bit of an instinct with these things, though he also had been talking to Ministry personnel for over a decade at this point. Cade had met many Interpol agents such as Bianca, that standoff-ish attitude and warning in their eyes to approach with caution. It was a challenge in itself to get even more than a few words from them, but Cade enjoyed a challenge. Now, he had to be at least a little bit honest with himself. Part of the reason he had approached her was that she was pretty. But now he wondered how long he could talk to her in front of this…interesting painting until one of them ceded and walked away first. With his work taking up most of his time, and the rest was spent still working or with Ouroboros members, he had very little time to date. Though he managed it, as a sociable person, it wasn’t difficult to meet people.

Bianca didn’t seem as amused as he was, however, and the small smile on his face probably gave that away as soon as she’d glanced at him. ”In fact, yes, I have.” Cade answered honestly. In fact, he did have actual friends that worked in the Ministry but very few. He supposed that it was a natural response since there could have been situations of information off the record being used on the record and its risk. It was something Cade could respect—their career was just as important to them as his own was to him. Though at least the ones he had befriended took their jobs seriously as well. ”It might surprise you that I have friends in the Ministry. But that’s all they are, just friends.” Cade knew some journalists relied on the comfortability of friendship to retrieve more information than they might have otherwise. It was certainly helpful, especially if the information was given willingly, but otherwise, it wasn’t a tactic that Cade himself chose to use.

Cade wondered if he had touched on a bit of a nerve. She responded differently but still along with the cynical tone she had been so consistent with. He paused and thought a moment. It was a good question—why, in fact, should there be. And then she continued, saying what was by far the most cynical thing she’d spoken so far. ”Well there is one thing in common with our careers.” He began. ”We do what we do for the sake of other people. It becomes easy to forget to do anything for yourself.” His tone was even and honest. It wasn’t a playful comment but an observation. For a while as a younger journalist, he’d pushed himself to the brink of burnout and had to take a step back. He picked up a few new hobbies, such as cooking, and it had helped bring him some balance in his life.

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[Bianca Alia Rivera]

From a detached perspective, Bianca could see why Cade had risen so high in the ranks of the Prophet. Part of her Auror training had been dedicated to learning how to talk to people – innocent ways to meet and converse, little techniques to pull out the information you needed. As much as the job required boldness and a selfless nature, it was also an incredibly social job. People could forget that when the face of the department tended to be grizzled, no-nonsense veterans. And even in their short conversation, Bianca could see an unnerving level of similarity between how she spoke to witnesses and suspects, and how Cade was speaking to her. He was open and disarming – easy and charming smiles, the right mix of chivalrous and polite that could make most women melt. But even his idle comments were observant and to-the-point. She could respect it, even as much as she disliked seeing her own playbook used against her.

Bianca gave the slightest scoff of disbelief, laced with an underlying amusement at his terribly untrue comment. She let her gaze travel down his body before meeting his eyes again. There was no way he wouldn’t have noticed where her gaze had gone, but she wasn’t much looking to hide it either. A man like Cade knew he was attractive, and he wouldn’t mind using it if it moved him closer to his goal. It might work on other women – but Bianca was not going to be like other women. Better to set expectations early on that she wasn’t the type for swooning. “I have no doubt that you know people in the Ministry. But you don’t seem the type that knows how to be ‘just friends.’” It was probably the closest to teasing she would get in such a serious encounter – one where she was determined not to mess up and cost her the career she worked so hard for.

“For the sake of others?” Bianca echoed quietly, turning over the curious thought in her mind that she and Cade did have something in common, even if he didn’t realize it. She had turned her head slightly to stare at the painting again, although she was lost in her thoughts and as a result didn’t absorb anything she was seeing. She had been recruited into Heliopath shortly after the Order had disappeared, although her mentor Poe had told her everything that had come before. Bianca knew, in a somewhat vague sense, exactly how involved Cade had been before the split, and even more vaguely that he had gauged Ouroboros to be more worth his time. It didn't seem terribly out of character for him, not after almost a decade of watching how he worked. He wanted nothing more than to help people, and Bianca couldn't deny that even with her darker M.O...that was all she wanted too. But the Ministry viewed any vigilante activity as illegal, and was ready to arrest any members of Order break-off groups on sight. The dual reality she lived in – giving some of herself to the Ministry and the rest to an organization ready to defy the Ministry's lawful authority – had given her a new perspective on justice. On the increasingly blurry line between right and wrong.

She suddenly snapped back to the present, and redirected her gaze to study Cade’s features intently, as if she could see the answers she was looking for reflected in his eyes. “We have to forget about ourselves. That’s what this job calls for. We don’t get to hesitate. No easy hours, no opportunity to weigh what the cost of action might be in our own lives.” Her heart twisted painfully at the thought of her father. The only thing she had ever wanted her whole life was to be exactly like him, to follow in his footsteps. The more time passed, the more she began to fear she was doing exactly that. But she wasn’t talking about the Ministry anymore, or the Prophet. He had no realistic way to know, but maybe he could read something in her tone or expression. She wouldn’t put it past him. “You can’t have it all. There’s no way to live for others without losing ourselves first.”

cade owen woodward

[cade owen woodward]

consider me a satellite
forever orbiting

i knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 03, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

The social aspect of his work was one that Cade had always enjoyed. It was never a chore to talk to people and converse about different subjects. Go with the flow, one might say, and just speak and in a way control a conversation while letting someone else do most of the talking. Then, keep an ear open for what they said and perhaps how they said it. After a decade, he knew that it was a valuable skill in any career, especially one meant to uphold the law. Cade had seen his share of interrogation footage to see different styles. Some Aurors and officials used a fear tactic, while others used a more subtle approach on suspects where fear would not make them crack. It was all the same game but with a different label.

Cade noticed Bianca inspect him, though he wasn’t sure if she was looking at him through the eyes of an Auror or just that of a woman. She had never struck Cade as the type to be as shallow as some of the women he had encountered who couldn’t help but smile when he managed a smile in their direction. The easier targets, he’d have to admit, to talk information out of though some had been a lovely company. He couldn’t help but chuckle the way she kept rebuffing his attempt at what he considered a simple conversation. His ear was always open for information, but even he had to step away from the job once in a while for his own sanity, a hard habit to break. ”I’m actually wonderful company…if you let me.” He teased in return. It had taken a long time, probably around the time he’d been promoted, to realize that separation of one’s life from work was essential or work became your existence, and if that was ever gone—what did you have?

That being said, he was still working on that part. The last few years and his work with Ouroboros had left him incredibly busy and with long hours at the office and a glass of whiskey from his bottom drawer most evenings. Bianca thought about his comment, and he took a moment to return his gaze to the painting, it wasn’t anything he would hang in his flat, but he pretended to be interested before looking at the woman in front of him again. Her take on things was different than his, but it made sense after all his years of speaking to Law Enforcement officials. They all seemed to think along the same line, which separated the various people, careers, and intentions. Still, his intent was always good or he would have never joined the Order before the split despite its blatant illegality.

The way she spoke about her intent and essentially giving up who you were for the purpose of good, like willingly becoming a piece on a chessboard or a cog in the machine. It was a bit cynical—like the words of a veteran who had seen so much and who could not reconcile why? Cade had written about enough difficult topics to where he could have fallen down that cynical path and become a hamster in a wheel. It made him curious what had she seen or experienced that made her so determined and yet so jaded. ”You’re right. You can’t have it all. But that’s the trade-off isn’t it? How much of yourself are you willing to give up for a result that may or may not happen?” Another reason he had joined the Order was that justice was hardly fair or timely, and there were ways to push things along.

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[Bianca Alia Rivera]

One of the hardest things to realize about the world, and one that Bianca had never fully accepted, was that it would not rearrange itself to accommodate you. No, whatever greater forces ruled their world – some kind of god, fate or destiny – it was uncaring, uncompromising. It pushed forward unrelentingly, and the kinds of changes that shaped the world…well, those weren’t done by some greater force. Those were done by people, and people were incredibly difficult to pin down. Bianca preferred those few instances when pushing hard enough meant the other side would yield, and she preferred even more when people behaved exactly as expected. When there could be some degree of predictability. People changed, she knew that – and that must mean that relationships changed too. Family ties, friendships, romantic attachments…nothing could stay the same because as the world began to influence people, it began to influence those relationships too. Some might call it growth, others chaos…either way, it rewarded those who knew how to move with the current instead of those few people that insisted on swimming against it.

Still, after almost a decade of only ever speaking with Cade in a professional capacity – those few moments after a briefing when the Ministry employee wanted to escape from the room and the reporters wanted to keep them indefinitely, or those seconds passing each other in the hallway or outside the building – it was hard to think of him as anything but the man holding the quill that was responsible for the Prophet. But she could almost see past that to something different as they exchanged teasing comments about the exact sort of company Cade was. It wasn’t quite enough to break almost ten years of professional courtesy, but it was enough that Bianca had to stare at the painting intently to avoid letting a smile break through her neutral expression. “Mm, everybody thinks that about themselves,” Bianca said dismissively with her eyes fixed on the painting, “I’d need to see your recommendations first. Maybe a resume too.”

Inevitably, the conversation turned more serious – inevitable because Bianca always seemed to return to this exact topic. She couldn’t escape all these haunting questions about her future, the sort of law enforcement official she was becoming, the sort of person she was becoming. Whether her father would be proud of everything she fought for, or if he would be ashamed of what she was willing to do to get the job done. Would he want his only daughter to follow his path, considering how suddenly and violently it had ended? Bianca hated that she didn’t know the answer. She had turned to study Cade intently, and she felt that itch in the back of her mind that Legilimency could give her all the answers she wanted. How could he be so hopeful about the future? How could he talk about the balance of saving others while saving yourself? He must have been involved with the Order for some time, enough that he had made the decision to join Ouroboros afterwards. And he had fought his way to one of the most senior positions in the Daily Prophet – so he must have some ability to see the world for the cruel and lawless place it could be. So how could he be so damn good?

But the key to Legilimency wasn’t knowing how to use it – it was knowing when not to. Bianca pushed the urge away in her mind. She used it for Heliopath, and she used it occasionally for the Ministry when there was no alternative. But she’d never use it for personal reasons, and certainly never on someone she didn’t consider an enemy. And whatever Cade was – he didn’t deserve that. Instead she replied seriously, “I don’t see it that way. I don’t start a mission with the expectation that I may not achieve the result I want. If I want something, I’ll get it. Eventually.” It could sound overly arrogant to those who didn’t know her, but it didn’t come from a misguided sense of her own abilities. No, Bianca never gave anything less than a hundred percent to anything she set her mind to because allowing for the possibility of failure meant it was more likely to happen. She didn’t appreciate inaction, people who were unable to commit to what they wanted. Failure could happen, but accepting the possibility of failure? Never. Bianca resisted the urge to cross her arms, if only because she inevitably began to trace the outlines of her scars if she brought her hands too close. Instead she continued, “It’s always seemed to me that the question is about sunk cost. If the job calls for great sacrifice…and you’ve given it, then is it too late to step away? Too late to find who you were? Is that person just…gone?” Bianca couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, so she moved away slightly to examine the next painting in the row (also because she couldn’t stomach the sight of so much splattered orange paint anymore). “That’s the question. But I don’t have an answer for you,” she said quietly.

cade owen woodward

[cade owen woodward]

consider me a satellite
forever orbiting

i knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 03, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

Some might call Cade an optimist. He preferred to approach reality with a perspective in mind but never forget what it actually was. It was almost naïve otherwise, probably what had landed him in Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor when he’d gone to Hogwarts. His mind was always at work, exploring angles and trying to connect the dots that existed or had yet to be discovered. The Journalists that he had seen go down the cynical route typically ended up stuck as they’d lose their passion and their vision for their work, and that was not where Cade intended to end up. Her expression didn’t change, though her responses were even a bit less of a wall now. Cade was still a gentleman before anything, but he had known Bianca for a decade now, but just as it was between his staff and her colleagues, there were never many friendships struck. Even now, most of his friends in Law Enforcement were through the Order or Ouroboros.

There was no agenda here exception conversation, but Cade, as always, was trying to connect the dots. It wasn’t about the chase or pursuit, but she intrigued him, she always had, but he’d focused on his career and the solid facts in front of him he could turn into a story worth reporting. He could only half grin at her response. She was trying very hard to talk to him without actually talking to him. Though he figured if she genuinely didn’t want a conversation with him, she could have just left and walked out the gallery without a word. ”Yes, but there is a distinct difference between thinking and knowing.” Cade had never been an arrogant man but surely a confident one, and he was very aware of his extroverted personality and ability to talk to people. His sisters used to comment on it when he was young all the time. She asked for his recommendations. ”Is this a requirement for any individuals who want to be your friend?” Her request clearly hadn’t been serious, but he would go along with it.

Bianca looked at him when he asked his question, pausing perhaps to consider her answer. They clearly had different perspectives of the world, and Cade felt his was more open while hers has a bit more narrowed, and he wondered why. There was that cynicism again, that altered perspective, but it caused Cade to pause. ”No, that person might be different but never gone. Can any of us say that we’re the same people we were at seventeen?” Cade certainly wasn’t, and he’d grown from his experience in life and from all that he had seen, but in his core, he was still the same. ”You give up yourself when your purpose changes.” He added. If one’s goal was to help people and pursue good, then all their work was worth it. He had seen people “go to the dark side,” so to speak, and their purpose had changed though, in a sense, it was just a reflection of who they possibly were in the first place, he figured. He paused a moment, figuring he would chance an additional question. ”So, Bianca, what is your purpose?” Cade remembered her when she was a young Auror in training. He was curious what her great sacrifice had been.

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[Bianca Alia Rivera]

Bianca bit her lip and stared fixedly ahead as she tried desperately not to smile at Cade’s immediate response. It was a risky sort of statement to make about yourself, the kind of assertion that had the potential to fall flat or come off as arrogant if delivered to the wrong audience. Still, she couldn’t deny that she liked it – traits like meekness or indecision were ultimately the trademark of people who allowed themselves to be ruled by their fear. Fear of committing to a single goal, fear of making the wrong choice. Fear of being unable to take it back later. But she knew that it was impossible to live like that – how could one move forward if they were so intent on standing still? No, she wasn’t apologetic about who she was, and she didn’t think anybody else should be either. But out of any words she might have chosen to describe Cade, meek certainly didn’t apply. He hadn’t pushed through all those fluff stories to become an investigative reporter – and then an editor – by being afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing.

Still, Bianca didn’t smile. She was professional, she was serious, she approached everything in front of her with determination and intensity. It was the quickest way to achieve results from an unbiased perspective, and it avoided encouraging the idea that she was approachable. But despite her best efforts, Bianca could feel a smile flicker on her face, and she quickly turned her head away and covered her mouth with her hand as a soft laugh escaped. Only once she was sure she could find her usual neutral expression, the one that had become increasingly easy to fall into over the years, did she let her hand drop again. “I don’t appreciate people who waste my time. At least this way they can be straightforward about their intentions,” Bianca replied to Cade’s teasing question, shrugging lightly and trying hard to keep the amusement out of her voice. She turned her head slightly to eye him better, although her gaze was less critical this time and more appraising. Maybe even a little playful – not that she ever engaged in anything like that. “Are you interested in applying?”

As hard as it was to look at Cade while she pretended they weren’t having an out-of-work conversation, she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away as she considered his response to these seemingly unanswerable questions. Finding yourself again. Keeping your sense of identity together when the world seemed determined to tear it apart. Knowing whether you’d found yourself on the right path, or if you were simply lost. Cade had a point, one that ultimately traced back to that one maddening fact – people change. Most of the time it was difficult to say whether those changes were ultimately for the better or worse, only different. It was the sort of ambiguity Bianca despised, the gray area that didn’t exist in her black-and-white world. She exhaled slowly, not irritated so much at Cade but at the hard truth he was saying. At his question – a little too probing, a little too bold – she gave him a sharp look, and then turned away to examine the new painting. Nicer to look at than the last, but not a good enough distraction from the depth of the question. She took her time to consider it, whether she would answer, but she couldn’t resist. It was dangerous to talk to Cade, but she almost needed to say something. She needed to know.

“Justice. It’s always been justice,” she said, finally giving into the urge to cross her arms as she stared at the painting as if it had all the answers in the universe, a stormy look on her face. “Maybe it has changed,” she murmured, speaking more to herself at this point instead of looking at Cade. Wondering out-loud about everything that rattled inside her. “It was always about protecting people. Being their shield. But now…am I being selfish, just trying to prove a point…?” The attack, all those years ago, had shaken her to her core. She’d always thought she was strong, but it had shown her that when the cards were down, she had been too weak. After enough years of avoiding the responsibility of fieldwork, Bianca knew she would do whatever it took to get the job done. To catch every last escaped inmate at any cost necessary. But to what end? To protect people, innocents who might get hurt, or just to prove that she could be strong after all? She wondered these things - lost in thought, closed off - and she could almost forget where she was or who she was with.

cade owen woodward

[cade owen woodward]

consider me a satellite
forever orbiting

i knew all the rules
but the rules do not know me

January 03, 2026
Bianca Alia Rivera

Having confidence in one’s self was walking a tightrope. On the one hand, too much was like flying too close to the sun, and one’s arrogance would get the better of them. And on the other, too little, and you risked being crushed by the weight of the world. Cade liked to stand tall, confident in himself. How he viewed the world, though--perhaps that was why he was so interested in Bianca’s view—it was vastly different than his own despite what he had assumed at one point, and the investigative journalist side of him wanted to know why. But furthermore, he just wanted to know why. Something about their entire conversation today and this short meeting had struck a nerve in a way a good lead did which meant he wouldn’t back down. But of course, one must start with small and realistic goals. Perhaps he’d get her to smile one day.

She was honest. There was no denying that fact. Though Cade had always considered himself a people person and wasn’t one to completely filter who he spoke to and associated with. Plus, with his career, one typically didn’t want to do that. Finally, she looked at him as she asked if he wanted to apply for such a position and Cade returned with an easy grin and slightly raised eyebrow. The nature of their banter was changing. Maybe she didn’t completely hate him after all. ”The thought had crossed my mind, but I’d like some time to consider it as well.” Cade put a hand in his pocket while his expression shifted to a thoughtful one, musing out loud as if he hadn’t already made up his mind.

Cade was used to the looks he sometimes received when he asked his questions. It was his job to do so and a habit at this point. The woman intrigued him, and he wanted to know her, to understand. Perhaps that was his fault—trying to understand and wrap his mind around things and people. But, as his sister liked to remind him, he overthought and got in the way of himself. There was a bit of a pause, and Cade looked at Bianca, the gears were turning in her mind, but he then opted to stare at the painting that Bianca seemed to be boring holes through with her gaze. Cade considered her answer. He expected ‘justice’ but not the rest. Such a thought told him she wasn’t as two-dimensional as some of the other Aurors and Law Enforcement personnel he’d encountered, but he’d always known that. ”Depends what the point is.” Cade answered. Even he would have to think on that question. ”Something to think about, perhaps a conversation to continue another time?” Cade didn’t want to keep her longer than was necessary, plus why have all the fun conversation all at once.

[ Cade End ]

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