Post by Lepa on Jul 9, 2022 23:31:15 GMT -8
"Um... Mr. Devitt? Sir?"
Blake Devitt stood with his back to the younger woman as he poured over his notes. At the sound of her voice, he lurched forward, hunching himself over the messy stack of old papers, shielding them as if he expected her to steal his secrets. The woman couldn't even read them from where she stood, but from the few stray pieces she saw scattered about the floor, it all looked like the incoherent scribblings of a madman. In fact, his whole space seemed like a mess. Apparently he was supposed to be the head of the Magictech Department, but... judging from all the strange decor, it seemed Blake placed more emphasis on the "magic" part of his title.
Blake glanced aside. His eyes darted to a clock, then drifted down to one of the many sticky notes plastered on the wall. He squinted, then he let out a small sigh. If this was the right person, then at least she was scheduled to be here. Employees only approached him when they had magical problems that needed fixing, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with time-wasting nuisances.
"...You're here to pick up the flash drive." He read, then looked over his shoulder at the woman. "...Name."
Fiona paused. She assumed he'd be expecting her, but the bluntness in his simple demand caught her off guard. "F-Fiona," she couldn't help but stammer, then cleared her throat. "...Faire. Fiona Faire." The woman repeated herself, her answer just as concise. She'd heard the man was difficult to work with, and with how terse he seemed to be, she decided it was best to keep the encounter as brief as possible.
Blake appreciated it, though she wouldn't be able to tell. With a small nod, he sighed again and began shuffling through his papers, muttering to himself as he searched for the object in question. "Hmph..." He grumbled. "Where did I put it..."
Fiona stood patiently as the man dug through his belongings. A minute passed, then two... and after five, she wondered why he couldn't just use some sort of magic spell to find it. If he was trusted enough to be the head of the department and left to his own devices, then surely he must have been experienced... right?
No... it couldn't have been that easy. Otherwise, he'd have been able to keep his own papers organized.
It was a silly thought to assume such a thing, but Fiona had always thought of magic like how she'd seen it in movies - under the right circumstances, it could do anything and everything. The fact that there was some sort of science to magic was such a foreign concept to her. A part of her had always wanted to formally learn it, but it was just one of those things she never committed to - something she figured "she could always do tomorrow" but never did.
Fiona frowned. This was supposed to be a quick and easy delivery, but it'd been ten minutes since she showed up, and Mr. Devitt still hadn't found the memory stick. The last thing she wanted was to get chewed out for slacking off when it turned out this man was just ungodly unorganized. As he dug through a bookshelf in the corner, Fiona thought maybe it was best to lend a hand. Carefully, she began stepping over the scattered floor files.
"Here," She said, making her way over to one of the counters. She reached for an untouched pile of papers. "Let me help-"
"Don't touch that."
Blake's voice was incredibly sharp. Startled, Fiona lifted her hands and quickly backed off. The man had torn his attention away from the shelf to eye her suspiciously. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and meekly made her way back to where she previously stood. Satisfied she quickly got the message, he returned to his search with another grunt.
"Ugh..." He grumbled. "These Helioclowns screw up once and now I gotta pass along info by hand like this...?" He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "...They say it's a temporary fix, but I fuckin' doubt it."
Fiona grimaced at the swear. She wasn't a stranger to the word, but combined with everything else so far... she was very quickly beginning to see why this man had the reputation he did. He didn't even give her the courtesy of an apology or reassurance during his ten minutes of searching. He snapped at her for trying to help, and now he was complaining about an issue that... clearly wouldn't be an issue if he'd just. Organize. His stuff.
"M-Mr. Devitt!"
Blake let out a particularly loud groan. Fiona was glad it wasn't meant for her. She looked over at the cause and a rather frazzled looking employee had barged into the room with a file in hand.
"What? What do you want?" He asked sharply, his patience already worn thin from his futile search.
Of course, Blake already knew: there was a magical problem that needed fixing.
It was the only reason people ever came to him.
Fiona blinked cluelessly as the employee managed to stammer out an explanation, rattling off a sequence of phrases in strange tongues in the process. What were they? Some kind of series of spells...? Whatever it was, judging from the look on Blake's face, it was bad. So bad in fact, that he slammed the door open and ran out swearing. Fiona had even noticed the beginnings of a spell forming in his hands...! She peered out of the doorway as the frantic employee took off after him. From how they reacted, Fiona wondered... how bad was it? Was that reaction normal, or was the entire building in danger? Fiona stepped into the hall as she mentally darted between her options.
It wasn't long until she got her answer.
A violent tremor jolted her off balance. Fiona yelped as she hit the ground. The surge knocked out the power, and the lights flickered off into darkness. "Urk... ow..." She grimaced. "That's... extremely not good..." She murmured as she stared at the emergency lights that lined the hall flooring. At least she could see with their faint glow, but... "Definitely... think I should be going..." Fiona mumbled to herself as she pushed herself back to her feet.
As she began to take her leave, she heard it: a scream.
It... came from Mr. Devitt's office?!
No, no...! There must have been another room!
Without thinking, Fiona rushed back in. She whipped her head around, looking for the source. Eventually, she found a particularly heavy duty automated door with a window just large enough to peer through. "H-Hey! Is someone in there...?!" She called, though she had no doubt that her voice must have been muffled. Quickly, she pressed her face up against the glass, trying to make out if there were any people present... and sure enough, she saw one: a man who seemed to be hunched over, convulsing in pain. "Oh, shit...!" She swore, trying to pry the door open. No luck. It was activated by a key code, but luckily she found herself mashing the emergency release button.
Fiona squeezed by the door when it was halfway open. As she ran into the room, she quickly noticed it was... freezing. Thankfully she had some adrenaline to stave it off...
"Oh god, oh god...!" She repeated to herself in panic, approaching the young man. "Are you okay...?!"
Blake Devitt stood with his back to the younger woman as he poured over his notes. At the sound of her voice, he lurched forward, hunching himself over the messy stack of old papers, shielding them as if he expected her to steal his secrets. The woman couldn't even read them from where she stood, but from the few stray pieces she saw scattered about the floor, it all looked like the incoherent scribblings of a madman. In fact, his whole space seemed like a mess. Apparently he was supposed to be the head of the Magictech Department, but... judging from all the strange decor, it seemed Blake placed more emphasis on the "magic" part of his title.
Blake glanced aside. His eyes darted to a clock, then drifted down to one of the many sticky notes plastered on the wall. He squinted, then he let out a small sigh. If this was the right person, then at least she was scheduled to be here. Employees only approached him when they had magical problems that needed fixing, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with time-wasting nuisances.
"...You're here to pick up the flash drive." He read, then looked over his shoulder at the woman. "...Name."
Fiona paused. She assumed he'd be expecting her, but the bluntness in his simple demand caught her off guard. "F-Fiona," she couldn't help but stammer, then cleared her throat. "...Faire. Fiona Faire." The woman repeated herself, her answer just as concise. She'd heard the man was difficult to work with, and with how terse he seemed to be, she decided it was best to keep the encounter as brief as possible.
Blake appreciated it, though she wouldn't be able to tell. With a small nod, he sighed again and began shuffling through his papers, muttering to himself as he searched for the object in question. "Hmph..." He grumbled. "Where did I put it..."
Fiona stood patiently as the man dug through his belongings. A minute passed, then two... and after five, she wondered why he couldn't just use some sort of magic spell to find it. If he was trusted enough to be the head of the department and left to his own devices, then surely he must have been experienced... right?
No... it couldn't have been that easy. Otherwise, he'd have been able to keep his own papers organized.
It was a silly thought to assume such a thing, but Fiona had always thought of magic like how she'd seen it in movies - under the right circumstances, it could do anything and everything. The fact that there was some sort of science to magic was such a foreign concept to her. A part of her had always wanted to formally learn it, but it was just one of those things she never committed to - something she figured "she could always do tomorrow" but never did.
Fiona frowned. This was supposed to be a quick and easy delivery, but it'd been ten minutes since she showed up, and Mr. Devitt still hadn't found the memory stick. The last thing she wanted was to get chewed out for slacking off when it turned out this man was just ungodly unorganized. As he dug through a bookshelf in the corner, Fiona thought maybe it was best to lend a hand. Carefully, she began stepping over the scattered floor files.
"Here," She said, making her way over to one of the counters. She reached for an untouched pile of papers. "Let me help-"
"Don't touch that."
Blake's voice was incredibly sharp. Startled, Fiona lifted her hands and quickly backed off. The man had torn his attention away from the shelf to eye her suspiciously. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and meekly made her way back to where she previously stood. Satisfied she quickly got the message, he returned to his search with another grunt.
"Ugh..." He grumbled. "These Helioclowns screw up once and now I gotta pass along info by hand like this...?" He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "...They say it's a temporary fix, but I fuckin' doubt it."
Fiona grimaced at the swear. She wasn't a stranger to the word, but combined with everything else so far... she was very quickly beginning to see why this man had the reputation he did. He didn't even give her the courtesy of an apology or reassurance during his ten minutes of searching. He snapped at her for trying to help, and now he was complaining about an issue that... clearly wouldn't be an issue if he'd just. Organize. His stuff.
"M-Mr. Devitt!"
Blake let out a particularly loud groan. Fiona was glad it wasn't meant for her. She looked over at the cause and a rather frazzled looking employee had barged into the room with a file in hand.
"What? What do you want?" He asked sharply, his patience already worn thin from his futile search.
Of course, Blake already knew: there was a magical problem that needed fixing.
It was the only reason people ever came to him.
Fiona blinked cluelessly as the employee managed to stammer out an explanation, rattling off a sequence of phrases in strange tongues in the process. What were they? Some kind of series of spells...? Whatever it was, judging from the look on Blake's face, it was bad. So bad in fact, that he slammed the door open and ran out swearing. Fiona had even noticed the beginnings of a spell forming in his hands...! She peered out of the doorway as the frantic employee took off after him. From how they reacted, Fiona wondered... how bad was it? Was that reaction normal, or was the entire building in danger? Fiona stepped into the hall as she mentally darted between her options.
It wasn't long until she got her answer.
A violent tremor jolted her off balance. Fiona yelped as she hit the ground. The surge knocked out the power, and the lights flickered off into darkness. "Urk... ow..." She grimaced. "That's... extremely not good..." She murmured as she stared at the emergency lights that lined the hall flooring. At least she could see with their faint glow, but... "Definitely... think I should be going..." Fiona mumbled to herself as she pushed herself back to her feet.
As she began to take her leave, she heard it: a scream.
It... came from Mr. Devitt's office?!
No, no...! There must have been another room!
Without thinking, Fiona rushed back in. She whipped her head around, looking for the source. Eventually, she found a particularly heavy duty automated door with a window just large enough to peer through. "H-Hey! Is someone in there...?!" She called, though she had no doubt that her voice must have been muffled. Quickly, she pressed her face up against the glass, trying to make out if there were any people present... and sure enough, she saw one: a man who seemed to be hunched over, convulsing in pain. "Oh, shit...!" She swore, trying to pry the door open. No luck. It was activated by a key code, but luckily she found herself mashing the emergency release button.
Fiona squeezed by the door when it was halfway open. As she ran into the room, she quickly noticed it was... freezing. Thankfully she had some adrenaline to stave it off...
"Oh god, oh god...!" She repeated to herself in panic, approaching the young man. "Are you okay...?!"
