4.4 Malebolge
29th of March, 2011
"See?" Ethan directs his friendliest smile at the PRT ENE's newest recruit as soon as the door of the Director's office clicks shut behind the both of them, "I told you it would be fine!"
The teenage blonde gives him an annoyed deadpan from behind her domino mask and clothes coming straight out of the PRT's surplus, before huffing and looking away with her arms crossed over her chest.
"... I guess it did," the now officially ex-villainess pauses, before adding with all the elegance of someone who's getting their teeth pulled out, "It helps she was being straight with me from the get-go instead of beating around the bush."
"Eh," the older ex-villain shrugs lightly, "Director Piggot can be a bit of a hardass, but she used to be a grunt; office politics are her nemesis, that's more the Deputy Director's shtick. Plus, I wager that your power would have made it completely useless to try bullshiting you."
"Probably also helps that the Alcott girl is very likely to get poached by Watchdog as soon as feasibly possible and she'd rather build a good enough working relationship with the Thinker who's the likeliest to stay in-house," the blonde drawls a little snidely.
"Would you rather go to Watchdog instead?" Ethan asks, a little pointedly.
The girl takes a second to think her words over as they wait for the elevator, before answering.
"No," she ends up admitting with a sigh, "I'd get bored to tears in less than a month, and I'd have to try to pretend to take seriously the guy who gives color-coded warnings."
The elevator dings, its doors smoothly swinging open.
"At least here I'll see the outside world from time to time instead of an office cubicle twenty-four seven," the ex-villainess sighs while leaning against the elevator's wall, a gesture that Ethan promptly mimics on the opposite side after pressing the button sending them to the correct floor, "Still a golden cage, but the bars are looser at the very least."
"Well, speaking as an ex ne'er-do-well myself," he directs a crooked smile her way, startling the blonde very minutely, which he wagers is more due to the fact that she wasn't expecting him to admit it out loud so soon, telling him that the Thinker already knew for certain, "I know the transition isn't going to be easy for you. Rules, regulations, it's going to chafe at you. But! If you're good enough at your job and act professionally in the field – or when stuck on the console – they won't make too much of a fuss about your eccentricities."
It's his turn to pause as he frowns under his mask, before adding.
"The thing is, villains, rogues, heroes…" he sighs while mechanically rubbing at the back of his head, "Well, we're all broken in some way, right? And it doesn't stop being the truth just because we're told to smile for the cameras. Oddities, eccentricities; they're the norm, and it's understood. As long as you don't push it too much, people will let it slide, mostly because they already know what it does to force a cape to keep everything bottled up. And it never ends well."
The look the blonde is giving him now from the other side of the elevator is intense to say the least.
"I know your type, kid," he grins her way with a wink, "You're an obnoxious brat through and through when you're not busy doing this 'I have to make a good impression or I am done for'-impression you've got here. All I'm saying is, just because you're working for the good guys now, it doesn't mean you can't be yourself. Like I said, as long as you don't push it, the Director isn't going to be on your ass about it. Plus, I think she even likes you a little! Which almost never happens!"
The elevator stops with another ding and its door swings open.
"... She likes that I actually owned my part in the Coil mess and surrendered to warn you instead of fleeing or even bargaining for my help," the girl says after a beat as they steps out of the elevator, "She doesn't trust capes–"
"Geez, you don't say," Ethan flatly deadpans.
"–because she thinks we're trauma-riddled individuals who got handed a loaded gun before being told to go wild with it," she wrinkles her nose at him before looking away as they keep walking, "And I suppose I get where she's coming from a little."
"Can't say I don't," he slowly nods.
"So, me actually stepping in to help you guys deal with the issue? It rubbed her right for once, which I wager doesn't happen often," the Thinker carries on, "Which is why she was willing to meet me halfway earlier as long as I bend to her rules."
"And you got a smooth deal, kid," Ethan tells her, mustering all the seriousness he is able to in his words, "Which, considering recent events–"
"The Stalker case," the blonde gives him a very smug grin, which throws him for a loop for a beat because he finds it very irritating almost instantly.
"–is surprising in itself," he explains further after shaking off the sensation, "But considering most of what you did was under coercion? It's only fair to give you the carrot for your rehabilitation instead of waving the stick for all it's worth."
The duo finally reach the Wards quarters and Ethan steps forward to punch the code.
"And hey, at the very least," he throws a grin her way as the door slowly slides open, "She can't be a worse boss than Coil, right?"
The blonde turns pensive for a few seconds, before nodding.
"No, I guess she cannot," she admits softly.
"Right," he claps his hands while stepping through the threshold, "Now let me introduce you to your new home! So, here we got–"
***
Dark-chan still hasn't answered my summons and I am getting a little concerned. I can feel the piece of her Sha intertwined with my own radiating mild curiosity on a near constant basis, with the odd annoyed beats from time to time, but that's all I currently know about her condition at the moment.
I hope this whole thing isn't going to come back to bite me in the ass at some point, but maybe I'm just worried for nothing?
After all, the Bay hasn't self-combusted during the night.
"Are you alright, Jacky?" Caroline's softly-spoken question wrenches me out of my thoughts and I lock eyes with her from across the cafeteria table, "Are you still unwell?"
"No," I answer while blinking, before shaking my head as I scoop some mashed potatoes from my plate, "No, I'm better. I was just lost in my thoughts for a little."
I pause, before adding after taking a quick bite.
"I'm still a little bit tired and didn't sleep nearly as well as I should have," I admit after swallowing.
The blonde makes a little noise of understanding while nodding strongly, making me quirk my lips minutely.
"You didn't even tell us what laid you down flat like that," Louise prods while squinting suspiciously back at me.
For a moment, I'm tempted to simply tell her that I got a fever and leave it at that.
Then my inner gremlin's intrusive thoughts win over.
"I was dealing with the backlash of a satanic ritual that left me on the verge of anemia after I inadvertently bound myself to a fiend in a bid to reach greater magical heights," I conversationally answer while scooping another bite of mashed potatoes, "The blood loss was a bitch to deal with, zero out of ten, wouldn't recommend."
Four pairs of profoundly weirded out looks are sent my way and I inwardly cackle.
"I'm starting to think," Missy – !!! – drawls after making an annoyed little huff, "That Louise may be on to something, and that you've read the Maggie Holt books too many times for your own good."
"Please," I snort in the most unlady-like manner ever, "As if I could read that and be as peppy as I am."
I catch Caroline and Adelaide trading a disbelieving look while wording out 'peppy?' under their breath.
"I had to force myself to finish the author's other works, once was enough for a lifetime," I muse out loud, before shaking my head to focus back on my steak.
"He wrote something else? Really?" Louise asks, clearly surprised.
"He did," I confirm, the edge of my lips curling up in amusement, "You wouldn't have heard about it though."
"Hmmm," she squints my way, before huffing in a manner similar to Missy, complete with her arms crossed over her chest, "Whatever. Just admit you've had a fever next time instead of going all emo-goth on us."
"But what if I am all emo-goth?" I wiggle my fingers in her direction, "Look at my nails!"
"You already told us that you painted them black because it was less of a hassle than to paint them any other colors," Adelaide points out, visibly confused.
"... Guess I have no choice, then," I narrow my eyes in her direction, before nodding to myself, "I'll have to put on black lipstick next!"
Which I now have on a permanent basis – why, power, just why?! – though I almost missed that particular detail this morning and probably would have without Dell growing scalding hot on my arm while in the bathroom.
"... I'm not sure it's going to go well with the teachers, Jacky," Missy sighs.
"But what if I also started wearing a rosary at the same time?" I challenge her, my amusement starting to peak, "I'd get to show how much of a good little christian girl I am despite my fashion statement!"
The blonde stares at me straight in the eyes before sighing once again, although more explosively this time.
"You're weird. Your priorities are weird, and you're somehow weirder," she shakes her head.
"Oh, come on, Missy," Louise whines complains, "At least Jacky's livening up the place! Look! you're even smiling!"
The Shaker blinks, before slapping a hand on her face and letting out a little 'uh' of realization when she realizes that the edge of her lips are indeed curled up.
"I guess I am," she admits a little oddly.
I mentally pat myself for a job well done, my inner gremlin satiated for the moment.
***
"Director," Elliot walks in his superior's office, a frown on his face and a folder in his hands, "I think we have the beginning of a situation."
Emily's pencil stops moving as she looks heavenward with the look of someone begging a superior entity to give them some strength in her trying times.
By the time she lets go of her pencil and locks eyes with him, Elliot has had the time to step closer to her desk to hand her the folder while taking a seat in the slightly uncomfortable chair.
The Deputy Director gives the woman a moment to open the folder before starting to speak.
"Since yesterday, we've started getting reports of a suspected Case 53 popping up all over the Bay," he explains after clasping his hands together in his lap, "Blue skin, pointed ears, unusual eyes, almost biomechanical in appearance. Suspected woman, mostly on account of her wearing what witness accounts call 'a metallic corset' leaving very little to the imagination. Carries a broken doll everywhere she goes with her. Allegedly not hostile unless provoked, but–"
"Apparently very quick to pull the trigger when she is," the Director scowls, her eyes darting left and right as she quickly parses through the file, "Three victims already?!"
"That we know of," Elliot amends while carefully hiding a wince, "... The thing is, according to the testimony the police managed to gather, her victims weren't exactly upstanding members of society."
"Elaborate," Emily clips as her eyes snap upward to lock with him.
Elliot takes a breath, before explaining.
"Among those three victims, the first repeatedly had the police called on him by his neighbors who suspected him of being an abusive spouse, even if his wife never pressed charges; the second was attempting to sexually assault the main witness; and the third apparently wasn't killed by our possible Case 53, although she watched him overdosing without helping or making a move, which happens to be the case for his 'friends' too," he summarizes.
The Director visibly lets his words sink in while leaning deeper inside her office chair.
"That's…," she purses her lips, "Odd, to say the least, even for a cape."
"Very much so," Elliot confirms, "A Mover rating seems to be part of her power at the very least, since the sightings are all over the Bay, and she allegedly appeared out of nowhere during the three cases I just described."
"But why in these places? And with such timing for the abusive husband and attempted rapist?" the Director voices out loud his next sentence before he can.
"That's the question, isn't it?" he smirks humorlessly, before shaking his head, "In any case, it doesn't seems like there's a pattern that the BBPD or us can find–"
"That's where you're wrong," Emily frowns, before slowly nodding to herself and closing the folder, "I think there's one, but we aren't seeing it yet."
She hands him back the folder, a grim little smile carved on her face.
"Have our newest Ward take a look at this. That'll keep the girl busy for a while instead of climbing up the walls in boredom in the Wards' quarters while trying and failing to learn the PRT's regulations as fast as she can," she says.
Elliot blinks, before taking back the folder with a nod of his own.
"Yes, ma'am," he answers while standing up, "I'll go tell Insight the good news then, I suppose."
"Do wish her my best in her investigation," Emily distractedly answers as she picks her pen back up, before adding, "Unironically."
[AN: Lisa and Assault have a little talk about what it is to swap sides with the goody two-shoes! Jacky is a little shit! Dark-chan's antics reach the PRT's ears!
Hope you enjoy, xoxo!]