[b]Level 72, Office. Xell’s cublice [/b] “Have everything I need now. Thanks,” Rey acknowledged, before taking his belongings and making his way back to his cubicle. Xell’s gaze following his retreat until he was out of sight. Xell furrowed his brows and adjusted his blue tie against his white shirt. A streak of irritance surfacing through his expression as he redirected his glance to look at nothing in particular. The one time he lets his guard up and shows just a glimmer of empathy was stubbed out and left him feeling dejected. “Suit yourself,” he muttered under his breath nodding very slowly. His brows slowly easing up. A washed-out expression with an air of sadness. “Suit yourself.” He looked down on the floor. Orange pills still scattered about like spores of a disease. His mind adopted a state of solitary confinement as his vision zoomed in on each and every pill. Lost even amongst the grainy patterns constituting its chemical and structural make up. Almost trying to envision all the dynamic carbon, hydroxyl chains and all other micro ocular chains bounding one another together. How peculiar one small pill would change the course of your day. The course of your actions, your thought processes. Ultimately, which path you took and what outcome it would yield. Very much like ‘point and click’ adventure computer games Jess often harped on about if he was half listening. Knowing her, she’d be the appeaser he assumed. Try too hard to make it work with everyone. Not how to tactically pick your battles. She had explained every thought, action, reaction and friends you picked paved your path. Either that, or manifested roadblocks or dead ends. Sometimes Xell couldn’t help but feel that he was in a game himself. By that virtue, could these pills be a form of inhibition? With such a lack of free will, what was stopping him from... living? He realised that more often than not, the company directed his every move but did this cross other boundaries? “Hey... hey...!” He shook his head as a proud tail swished by and clouted him on the snout. Causing him to rub it. The smell of night life perfume (almost like soft mango and champagne) was still potent and intruded him first before the presence of the femme fatale herself. Athena wasn’t exactly wearing office attire with her black leggings and white tank top which accentuated her hourglass figure quite femininely. “What do you think you’re doing?!” He demanded as she bent down to scoop up the orange chalk pebbles. “You wanna lower your voice?!” She hissed over her shoulder. Expression still hardened but her tone and body language somehow suggested that she was throwing out a lifeline. She promptly managed to assemble all pills. Bar the one missing as it had been ingested by Crispin earlier. “This whooole time...” Athena laughed incredulously. “...you were tripping out whilst trying to find your 1K pen!” She held the assembly close to her chest with a smile. The dragon blinked with a confused look. Causing an exasperated sigh from the fennec. She abruptly pulled out Xell’s hand, placed the caboodle within the palm and guided his fingers to secure it. “Don’t be so clumsy...” she winked. Holding his hand longer for what he deemed comfortable, before strutting off. “...I make enough to buy, like, 10 of those in a day. Let me know if you need any spares!” She sang confidently as she walked off. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ [b]Level 72, Office. outside Jessamine’s cublice [/b] Her question asked, Uthaleia gave Rié another of Jess's sunny smiles, waiting patiently to see what sort of answer she would be given. Rié intuitively took one step. A little bit intimidated by the cheek pinching. Even if it was meant to be an endearing gesture, it startled the bunny. She gingerly raised a hand to touch her face. Almost as if to check if it was still there. “Thank you for your kind words,” she acknowledged in an overly polite manner. Adhering too closely to obligation of showing gratitude for a compliment, or a need for effect to follow cause. Jessamine simply beamed. Hands behind her back as she drew semi circles with one of her tiptoes on the floor in a daydream. All the while still waiting for an answer. She knew from the way the tone had tapered off that that was not the end of the conversation. “Alright then, so... you’re telling me it was just a social gathering of some sort?” Fleur asked, unable to conceal the dubious tone. “We’re a good 1 hour from break time and pardon my sternness but now would not be the time for ‘meet and greet’. You all know the rules by now. No chin wagging or any of that nature unless it’s work related.” Fleur sighed before pursing her lips hopelessly. She didn’t like confrontation. Her speech on rule enforcement was really just a narrow window to give herself more time on how to address the situation. She knew what she saw, and it was only a matter of time before someone accused her of not fulfilling her duty to its entirety. “Look, Ms Halecourt, I really need your cooperation with this...” Fleur reached out, hand shaking as her other hand was gripping the tranquilliser shakily behind her back. Inching steadily to the forefront as the rabbit stared at the squirrel’s dainty neck. [i]” ...leur... Fleur... Fleeeeuuuur...”[/i]the rabbit straightened up. Shoving the syringe away in her back lab pocket as she adjusted an earpiece within her auditory canal. “Yes... yes... alright... right away!” She said, glancing up at Jessamine and back to the floor nervously. Processing what was being said to her. She didn’t like a sudden change of plans or having to deal with uncertainty. Rié cleared her throat as she straightened her pose again. Looking back at Jessamine with concern. “It’s been requested I escort yourself, Mr Westing, Miss O’shea and Mr Weaver to the Director’s office,” she explained, looking around anxiously for another individual “...and I think Mr Ocelot must’ve gone to lunch...” she trailed off with panic. [i]”He’s being dealt with...”[/i] she heard through her earpiece. “...right...” she hesitated, forcing a pursed smile when she looked back to the worker squirrel girl. Almost as if staring straight through her amber eyes. “Are you going to come willingly, Jessamine Halecourt?” Fleur stated, rather than requested. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________ [b]Hallways[/b] Zacharias drawled his sneakers cross the floor. Thudding in a dull monotoned manner. Really his bell bottom jeans were too long and threads could be seen shearing off from where the hems got caught between floor and shoes. Even his oversized green striped 3/4 shirt overlaying a black tank top did nothing to help reinforce a ‘glowing appearance’. Rather, a grumpy and miserable emo hound with a perpetual calculating and vindictive aura about him. His thoughts continued to perpetuate about the scene earlier where the preppy squirrel girl had made a complete fool of him and one of his superiors insinuated a form of amusement from the happening. ‘Just you wait. Til today’s meeting. That will wipe the smile off your face. Juvenile mink!’ [i]Bleuuuuuuuuuurgh[/i] Before Zach could take a step closer, he jumped back with a yelp as he saw food contents splatter across the floor. Balancing his stance on one foot and guarding his face from the horror before him, Zach tentatively opened one eye to take in the scene before him. Before letting his guard down and sneering with disgust. The smell of bile rose rapidly and made him pinch his nose. “...well, guess you showed that hairball whose boss,” Zach folded his arms whilst he tapped his foot and directed a stern gaze at Crispin. Who was still dry heaving and clutching the wall for support? Hacking and retching echoing down the hallways. Deep and guttural which would’ve drawn anyone’s attention if wasn’t just the two of them as of yet. “Are you…” [i]Bleurgh… bleu… bleeeeeeurgh…[/i] the visceral sounds kept interrupting Zach. “…are you done yet?!” he demanded after some time. Finally, some silence about the air. ‘Seriously... cats.,’ he narrowed his eyes with contempt. “Mr Ocelot, I recognise you’re struggling for whatever reason- I don’t know,” Zach almost accusing him of some misendeavour “but as it happens, you’re one of the flagged workers that’s been advised to go to the Director’s office. And I'm going to be taking you there.” Eyeing him up and down again, Zach smirked somewhat. “Are you going to comply, or must I carry you?”