Hidden 15 days ago 11 days ago Post by RainbowFizz
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RainbowFizz Mind is willing, soul remains

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Synthetic Eden Organisation

Have you ever felt that something wasn’t quite right? That the world you grew up has orchestrated your every thought and move? That the society has indoctrinated our thoughts whilst those that have resisted have been rendered docile through atonement?

The current world would not have you think like that. Going with the motions earned you mutual respect. Or what some might say, was a pat on the back.

The red pilled brigade were either punished for such thought crimes, or kept quiet in fear of being chastised.

The little people punished and bled dry of their finances, well-being and livelihood all for the bigger people in the game to stay above and beyond float in this gross imbalance.

This was the dystopian society humans, anthros, animals and androids found themselves in the world they were living in today.

———————-

New Ennisberg, CBD

’Tick, tock, tick, tock.’

The drone of’ end of day’ novelties chimed through Xell’s partially numb and partially heavy mind. A fleeting presence. A short burst of dopamine that quickly dissipated before it could be acknowledged. Let alone embraced. A token of hope to carry him through yet day.

His azure eyes that carried a reminiscent glimmer of former upbeat drawled across the corroded floor. Auto pilot dragging his gaze amongst a myriad of worn, moth eaten shoes of various leather and canvas material. Black and white checkered earning the prize of the most lively pair. Belonging to a being who was hard to decode underneath its oversized and shapeless hoody. Wiry fingers, with skin torn scabby cuticles scrolling through the phone feed. White screen outlining its form within this dark vicinity. A wasting part of limbs that looked as if it had picked up anything but food for the last few days.

The dragon lifted his head a bee’s whisker. One step further from his sub-conscious to the real world. The photons of light that resembled corroded metal dancing about the air through the window. Pulsating headlights dancing off the deadline assembly of ominous figures. The patterns about the walls and windows had faded and withered so chronically that the capacity could be easily mistaken for a methadone clinic.

Rope slings rattled off the ceiling as the enclosure rocked back and forth. Tired and weary metal wearing each other thing as they slid up against each other.

“Terminal stop.” A monotoned voice void of empathy announced. Twin pistons released which gave off gasping sound as the poorly fitted doors screeched open. The vehicle giving in to free fall, albeit for 0.2 seconds, as the ignition caved in to a complete stop.
It was still dark outside within the ante meridian hours. The rusty filter left in situ partly owing to the urban emissions having fabricated its own pollutant blanket upon the CBD.

Xell drearily lifted his head. Streaks of washed out pollutants sun an unwarm welcome to his current dilated eyes that had been mostly accustomed to the dark. Blinking wearily, he could process buildings. A plethora of cityscape encompassing one would crudely remark as a concrete jungle. Any signs of anything light, cleanliness and a good vibe falling by the wayside.
The dome like area of clouds hawking over the city resembled rusted metal and decaying fabric.
If he stared long enough, he could make out a twisted face staring down at him through the nuclear orange fenestrations amongst the clouds. As if to mock his existence.

Xell frowned. The first sign of any emotion in wake since he woke up this morning. He pulled out a cigarette from his work shirt pocket. A lighter from another make-shift or “repaired” pocket from his dog-eared trousers.

A few flicks, emissions of carbon dioxide, deep throated cough and exhale took place before the moment he was in became a little bit more endurable.
Having consumed another long drag, he turned to look at a nearby cathedral. Monumental statues and gargoyles blurred renderings of their former selves. Former detail and characteristic youth seemingly stripped away. Owed to either a signs of neglect, change in priority or in what one values today. Or simply acid rain eroding the earth’s surface characteristic.
Much like one’s thick skin or sense of self-worth. One, after all, can always evade harm or violation in whatever shape, form or situation. But a process so gradually chronic and disintegrating, that one became desensitized and docile to the notion would cause a loss of purpose. Or a relinquished sense of what one may have been running from in the first place.

Having drawled through the next walk of blocks, Xell finally found himself outside the designated workplace. A tall black windowed building of unusual spiraling architecture. Some civilians even remarked that it looked like a circuit.

Many complex lights, eclectic structures, paths of whimsying paths so complex, one wouldn’t know where it started nor where it ended.

Where many may find their position in the workforce at this company a trend setting point of conversation that carries prestige and status- for civilians like Xell, uncertainty became a burden since the start. Uncertainty so intangible, however, any reason to leave felt like grasping at straws.
Without looking, he open out his hand to let the cigarette butt drop to the floor like a swatted fly. Smearing the ash marble floor with his shoe to leave a sooty stain.

He pressed on towards the glass doors, pulling back the sleeve of his work shirt reluctantly to reveal his bare and vulnerable wrist. A raised and indurated lump protruding his scales. Scar revealing where the chip had been slotted within the epithelial tissue.
A keypad on the wall immediately detected the notion and pinged the words ‘ACCESS GRANTED’ in attempted encouraging neon green lights. Twin glass doors suspended from titanium framework opening up and enabling him entry.

——————————

Level 72

Having ascended the monumentally high levels through the circuit, much like a hamster test tube with a fan like sound whooshing past each level like a dull toll, the box finally came to a stop. As the door whirled open, Xell stepped outside.

Vased plants and waterfalls decorating the hallways. He walked up to the reception area. Dull eyes glazed over the person behind the desk. A green dog with long hair, a striped shirt and ears. A oversized dangling tag that carried the name ‘Zacharias Maynard’. Face stuck in the newspaper impolitely whilst the computer blinkered in the background.

“You’re killing trees doing that…” Xell blurted without much thought. Or empathy for that matter.

The grey eyes looked over the pages of grey print. Maintaining his lazy position, he whipped out a hand to point at the Dragon’s wrist with an index finger.

“You need to sign in.”

“Already did that at the door. How many times do I need to do this?” Xell muttered “it’s a bit much.”

“Employee attendance and business performance tracking,” Zach muttered, licking his finger to turn a page “Oh… you need to take your pills.” He gestured with his hand towards the open baskets whilst keeping his face buried in the gazette foliage. Bored eyes still visible from the hollow.

“So… what mood are we in today…” his voice trailed off as the chip got scanned and a digital photo with a name appeared on the computer screen. Finally earning his attention elsewhere. “Xell Weaver?”

“Has this been approved by a doctor?” Xell asked, trying to sound incredulous. With the bland emotion within his tone, it stood out as more of a statement or moan, rather than a protest.

“Difficult today, aren’t we?” Zach furrowed his brown from behind the papers still “ok, blue pill for you.”

“Are you at least going to tell me what they are?” Xell picked up the capsule from the basket placed before him. Inspecting it indifferently before gulping it down with a glass of water that was pushed towards him.

“Nope,” Zach replied “can’t cause bias. But it should get you back on track.”
The dog forced a smile which appeared to be a ghost beneath his many layers of stoicism. Almost liked it was drowning.

“Right…” Xell muttered after he had turned his back to leave the dog in the wake of any conversation he had had all day. Automatic doors shutting behind him which left sounds of water fountains and air vents trailing in a maze of ambience.

—————————

Office

Xell walked across the labyrinth of desks. Some people getting to work within their cubicles. Otherwise using the internet for other purposes. He mentally shook his head at the latter.

“Must be new here…” he rolled his eyes as he saw an X-rated picture of long-haired fennec posing a position he didn’t even think was possible.

Having arrived at his cubicle, he slumped within his chair. Head spinning as he tried to accustom himself to the dreary effects of earlier. He massaged his temples, before burying his face into the palm of his hands.

After several minutes passed, he relucntantly opened a drawer to the right of his computer desk. Reaching out for more pills that clattered in the container like a packet of smarttees. He exhaled. A bead of sweat crossing the boarders of his face til it splattered on the keyboard.

“Is this as good as it gets?” he opened his eyes dryly. Rattling the pills in the bottle. “was it always like this?”
Hidden 12 days ago 11 days ago Post by GemaJinn
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Synthetic Eden Organisation; rooftop:

As dawn- or at least, a lightening of the dreary sky- took place, life stirred upon the empty- or allegedly empty- topmost levels of the imposing, monolithic structure that was home to the Synthetic Eden Organisation. A neon-green set of eyes opened, glowing slightly as they looked out upon the sombre sky, before the owner emerged from the shadows, to take in the panoramic view of the city spread out below. What manner of creature the owner of those eyes was would be difficult to say, for she seemed to belong to neither one species precisely, or yet another. A wild-looking mane of deep, forest-green hair crowned her head and tumbled, in thick unruly cascades down her back to almost the base of her spine. From amidst those tresses, the tips of long ears protruded... and also, higher up, the points to a fine set of horns. The lithe, tall, muscular figure seemed predominantly to belong to an anthopoorphic feline, but with some startling differences. Aside from the fur- which contrasted the deep-green mane by being black in colouration- cats do not own horns. The tail- a long and voluminous brush, almost as unruly as the thatch which crowned the head- was mainly black but with the end being a similar forest green. Strangest of all though, as the figure stretched, a pair of wings unfurled- wings like those belonging to a bat, or dragon, but with gleaming, iridescent feathers covering them, that seemed almost metallic in the dismal light. An unnatural figure to behold, had any eye beheld it- but at such an altitude, there were few indeed to witness Uthaleia Harecope as she began her day. She spent a few minutes stretching and flexing, going through an aerobic workout routine as she took her morning meal.

There was nothing in Uthaleia's residence that anyone- however desperately malnourished- might have considered as food, but that didn't mean there was nothing for Uthaleia to feed upon: She was ergo-synthetic; able to process and feed upon energy. The light, drear as it was, provided little by way of energy, but there were other forms of energy to be tapped. The ambient sounds of the city provided a paletable aperitif, but the bulk of what she absorbed was background electromagnetic radiation- the low-level electromagnetic radiation generated by the simple bulk of modern technology being operated almost constantly day and night throughout the city.True, such sustenance lacked the taste and substance others would consider food, but it meant Uthaleia never lacked nourishment. Her meal and morning workout finished, Uthaleia flexed her wings, before stepping off the rooftop and gliding in slow, lazy circles through the sky to a fire door several storeys below. It should have been possible to open the door only from the inside, but damage from some industrial accident, years prior had meant that patches of weather-sealant upon the door frame had been destroyed and acid rain had worn away at it; so that now a slim hand could reach through the gap between frame and door and open the door from without. Once having gained ingress through the door and closed it again, Uthaleia began to change, putting on her work-face for the day.

Hers was no mere change of clothing, or applying make-up. Uthaleia was a shape-shifter and preferred to wear a less distinctive appearence to work... for reasons she kept zealously private. Nearly a decade ago, Uthaleia had broken out of a laboratory that had been her birthplace and was intent upon staying free. The neon-green eyes became a gentle amber, the green and black becoming a russet-red with black here and there, the wings vanishing and ears changing shape as she became several inches shorter. Within moments, she looked like a pretty anthropomorphic red squirrel, wearing office-drone clothes and a name tag that read 'Jessamine Halecourt'. Satisfied that she now looked the part, Uthaleia quietly opened the inner door, into a corridor within the office, sliding it closed behind her. As she headed down the corridor towards the office that housed her desk, she passed through the lobby that comprised the reception area calling out a cheery "good morning!" to Zach as she went by. She was pretty certain Zach disliked morning people, or cheery people who were bright and vibrant when he just wanted to sit and read his newspaper... would the greeting earn her a recommendation of pills to take before she'd crossed the room? The idle curiosity went through her mind as she continued step by step. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the dragon, Xell Weaver, already heading down the corridor she was headed towards.. would she be able to catch him up and chat to him? Perhaps, though he probably wouldn't take being chatted to with much better grace than Zach... assuming Zach didn't stop her for having too cheerful a disposition for his liking. Well, maybe she could wish Xell a good morning once she got to her desk? She kept her pace steady, tail flicking about as though dancing to some music she was playing in her head, the image of an overly-cheerful, upbeat office worker.
Hidden 12 days ago Post by shylarah
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Rey had been in the office for some time when he heard a late arrival coming in. He poked his head out to see who it was -- Xell. Perfect! He quickly ducked back to his computer, put the finishing touches on a few lines of code, and jumped the whole thing to his ever-present flash drive. "Hey, Xell, you got a minute?" Rey started to ask, but the dragon was apparently deep in thought.

"Always like this?" Rey mused, scraping at months of dull memories. "I dunno. I don't think so. But whatever you're dealing with, it'll get better. Just gotta keep hanging in there." That was what he told himself, when the gray got too thick to handle. He knew things had been brighter, once. Now even his paintings kept featuring fog and gray haze.

He brushed off the darker thoughts with a shake of his head. "At any rate, would you mind if I borrowed your computer for a minute? Your monitor's at a different resolution than mine, and I want to make sure this page works right."
Hidden 11 days ago Post by RainbowFizz
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RainbowFizz Mind is willing, soul remains

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Level 72, reception

Moments after the dragon made his abrupt acknowledgement with his back turned to the counter, the watchful eyes of Zacharias Maynard fell upon his body.

“You’re welcome!” Zach retorted with a tuneful jeer, waving a hand.

“Whack job.” He sneered under his breath. Bringing the paper back to his face whilst his eyes remained unmoved from Xell. Flicking another
page with a rustle.

What were the chances he’d get two pass by in a row this morning. First, there was that soft-featured and sensitive soul, Robin Westing. Or ‘Rey’, as he appeared to be better known by. His art was compelling. He was the perfect employer to fulfill anything the company required. Had an eye for colour, form, appeal and subjective evaluation. Zach considered it a pity that his mood appeared to reflect itself in his work at times.

“Speaking of which…” a glazed look fell about Zach’s face, pupils constricted in deep thought “someone didn’t take their…” he growled, about to pick up one of the baskets laid out in front of him, when suddenly an annoying and overly chirpy voice interjected his thoughts.

“Good morning!” a morning star tone called out belonging to a red squirrel of small stature with work clothes. Her smile and carefree nature sticking out to the dog like a sore thumb.

“Jessamine Halecourt…” he narrowed his eyes and looked on with calm malintent. Like a cat watching a mouse flirt with death.
How long had she been here now? He wondered. Seemed a reasonably long time. A little shorter than Xell Weaver and Robin Westing. Yet of all the employers having an utter disregard and disrespect for the rules, she was by far the worst one! Not that those observations had fallen by the wayside. Zacharias, being the attentive micro manager, kept a paper trail of all offences the young lady had committed. Forwarded every conversation, inappropriate behavior and over enthuasiasm to the Director of this company. Some fortunate news arose this morning in that Zacharias received some correspondence with regards to these concerns and the matter would be dealt with very soon.
Today, in fact- post haste.

“Hey… HEY!!!” Zach yelled across the room. The tranquility of the waterfalls being drowned out and the sudden piano background music coming to an abrupt stop.

He waved a beckoning hand for the squirrel to come forwards.

“Not so fast Ms Halecourt. You know the rules.” Zach disappeared behind the counter momentarily. Arising with an object in his hand that resembled that of a handheld scanner. He jumped onto the desk, and off onto the floor. Landing deftly before walking towards her.

“You know the rules,” he clicked the scanner a couple of times, dropping his voice to a calm hush “everyone, needs….”
He yanked her hand and turned it over so that her bare wrist was facing the ceiling. Like a vulnerable limb on an operating table.

‘Bleep’

“…to sign in.”

He smiled down at her with satisfaction. Hands on his hips whilst holding the scanner in his right hand. The silence lingered on for a few seconds. No music or much ambience resuming.

“Well… now that that’s out of the way,” he cleared his throat “yourself and some others have been flagged.”
“What does that mean you may ask?”
“The Director’s office.”
“Today.”
“Midday.” His eyes opened abnormally wide. A serious look hovering on his face, before it melted into a drawled expression of glee.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Level 72, the Office

Xell dropped the bottle of pills to the floor with a gasp. Orange paracetomol resembeling tablets with a grainy pink texture rolling underneath the open spaces of the drawers. Some scattered amongst his feet.

“Oh… don’t mind those…” he laughed nervously, kicking the visible meds under the drawers. ‘Damnit he wasn’t supposed to see those! Does anyone else know?’ the dragon grimaced.

“Thanks for sympathizing…. Man…” Xell shrugged his shoulders a few times, trying to force a smile but quickly gave up when his emotions couldn’t match the outside picture.

He observed Rey for a second. Had to admit that he really was a decent human being. The only colleague and at this point, friend he had. Always there to check up on him provided he wasn’t overly consumed with work. Xell was surprised he hadn’t been relocated for his socializing efforts.

Xell had to turn away for a few seconds. Leaning a cheek upon one of his hands with that elbow supported by the desk. The pain of acknowledging what it was like to have emotions before his own became severely suppressed was too much to endure right now. A lingering fear on trying to recall past memories causing his throat to knot up. Metaphorically shackled in pain whereby the present discomfort was just slightly more bareable than the agony of removing those shackles and opening up the wounds.
The fear of an impending sense of doom. Or breakdown which was becoming a slow fusing dynamite.

“You’re right… you’re right Rey, it will all be ok…” he nodded slowly. Drumming his fingers upon the desk, before turning to look up at him again. Albeit awkwardly.

“My computer! Yes by all means…” the dragon almost tripped over his chair but regained his balance. Gesturing for the human to take a seat.
“Being an artist… you’d think it’d make more sense that you got the better computer… am I right?” Xell commented. Unsure whether he was just badgering on now.

“Hey…. HEY!!!” a hand waved over cubicle wall. Pale beige in colour with slender hands that were tattood with black stars. Some block black and others outlined, like patterns you'd see in a child's bedroom.
The hand slipped back over the other side momentarily, before a tall female stood over the cublice. Staring playfully at her co-workers. Smelling of perfume from the night before and expired eyeshadow decaying under her eyes. The worker in question was Athena O’shea.

‘That girl from the picture,’ Xell’s face fell as he looked away awkwardly. His gesture creating a sense of unwelcome.

“Hey dreamy! How are you today?” she asked, staring at Rey “you going to draw me?” She continued, pushing her hair back and posing with her shoulder out. Leaning over the cubicle wall.
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Hidden 10 days ago 9 days ago Post by GemaJinn
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Level 72, Reception:

“Hey… HEY!!!” Zach yelled across the room. The tranquility of the waterfalls being drowned out and the piano background music coming to an abrupt stop. Inwardly, Uthaleia grinned a little: As expected the perpetually-cheerful Jess had gotten under Zach's skin again! She skipped fowards as he beckoned her over, the upbeat smile never wavering as he reminded her of the rules and scanned her wrist. Like every other employee, she had a chip in her wrist... unlike every other employee, her's didn't stay there full-time. Once working hours were over, she would shift her limb around the chip, carefully removing the foreign object and placing it in a sterile container for the evening. Being a laboratory creation she was- she suspected by design- able to operate at peak capacity on less food and sleep than others were, which left her several hours of the evening to play with- and what she did and where she went as Uthaleia; those were things she kept as separate from Jessamine Halecourt as possible. She listened as the scanner gave the customary beep, expecting Zach to give her another earful about the rules before hustling her out of his reception area. Today though, it seemed, Zach had something more to say... something different. Keeping her ears open and the sunny smile on her face, she inwardly analysed every word.

“Well… now that that’s out of the way,” Zach told her as he cleared his throat “yourself and some others have been flagged.”
“What does that mean you may ask?”
“The Director’s office.”
“Today.”
“Midday.” His eyes opened abnormally wide. A serious look hovering on his face, before it melted into a drawling expression of glee.

Inwardly, Uthaleia considered the words and the implication they held, given the phrasing and the look Zach had given her once he'd finished dropping the pronouncement on her. 'Flagged'- that usually meant there was some concern over a matter.. or a person. That Zach did far more than serve as receptionist wasn't lost on Uthaleia: It didn't take one predator, that stalked its prey and lurked in cover, to spot another. Zach was always watching... and Uthaleia could very well guess that, whatever matter Jess might have been flagged upon, the one who had done the flagging was right in front of her. Her guess was 'consistent inappropriate behaviour' i.e; acting like a person instead of a robot.. or rather, like a happy person. On strength of that alone, she suspected Zach might have flagged her several times. Uthaleia suspected- and hoped- it hadn't been any of her more covert activities; the discrete enquiries she'd made and the more... investigative... approach she'd taken to certain files and databases on the system that were need-to-know access only. The handling of those matters she had been especially subtle with, the being overly-cheerful... well; that by nature was something that couldn't be done subtly. She wondered, with some curiosity, who the others might be that had been flagged... who else hadn't been doing what they were supposed to do- or been doing more than they were supposed to and been noticed?

'The Director's office'- there was a phrase meant to instill uncertainty and fear if ever there was one! It was true, multiple accounts of inappropriate behaviour- and possibly, horror of horrors, the crime of treating other employees like people- could probably get her a trip to the Director's office to 'discuss her misconduct'. That, in and of itself, wasn't a prospect that daunted Uthaleia too much: If the worst came to the worst, she could feign her death, lie low for some years, and then return in a new identity and begin her investigation anew. It would need more planning though; she'd been curiously fortunate with the identity of Jessamine Halecourt... Back when she'd been probing the cracks in the system, looking for an angle of approach she'd discovered, by chance amongst what files were still kept of the deceased, a single mother who'd died some years before of a terminal sickness- but not before giving birth to a daughter. Curious as to what had happened to the daughter- since there was no follow-up account on record- Uthaleia had discovered the infant daughter had died maybe a day or two after the mother... and either there had been no-one left to report it or, by some oversight, it had never been reported. A citizen with an offical date of birth, an identity in the system that was still valid... and with no original owner or living relatives to protest another taking it over. Uthaleia had siezed upon it swiftly, acquiring the necessary trappings of an adult citizen, of the age the child would have been had she lived and taking to herself the name on the birth certificate... Jessamine Halecourt.

'Today-Midday'- that, coupled with the expression Zach's face assumed suggested he was pleased about the development and that, therefore, she certainly shouldn't be. Giving no outward indicator of all that she was processing in her mind, Uthaleia decided upon a response that was most certainly not anything of the kind that Zach would prefer, and very definitely in keeping with the sunny disposition of Jess. Blinking, she tipped her head, gazing curiously at Zach- then her already happy smile widened into a beaming grin of pure delight; as though Zach had just announced that Santa was real and that Christmas would be extended this year so that everyone could get a chance to meet him.

"The Director's office?" She chirped in Jess's sunny tones, the voice sounding positively thrilled, "that mean's he's noticed me then! He really does care!"

Drawing no small measure of satisfaction from Zach's bemusement at her response, and knowing full well it would definitely earn Jess another flag to go with all the others, she skipped forwards and threw her arms around Zach's shoulders, hugging him before planting a kiss right in the middle of his forehead.

"I smell promo-o-o-o-otion!" she chirped, trilling the word 'promotion' as she said it, "thanks ever so much for letting me know Zacky- you're such a sweetie! Don't worry though, I won't forget you when I'm an executive!" That said, and awaiting no response, Jess skipped- practically danced- down the hallway as though the good news of the century had just been delivered to her.
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Hidden 8 days ago Post by Rexcalibur
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A low drawn-out whistle followed as Jessamine skipped down the hallway. Sitting directly behind Xell and Rey was Crispin Ocelot, a face that stood out only because he was the only one in that office wearing a hat. (There was of course the anthromorphic lizard he was sitting behind, shadowing him and learning the ways of the code - but he focused hard on his computer like every other drone in that building.) The young cat's eyes followed the squirrel until she was just about out of sight. "Kinda cute though, isn't she?"

"Do you ever. Shut. Up."

"I mean she's got the right kinda mindset. Maybe a bit too much, but I think-"

"Look." The reptile's typing came to a complete stop, catching Crispin's attention back from Jessamine. "Do you want to learn how to do this or not."

A few seconds of silence passed by before the lizard resumed typing. Crispin slowly scratched the back of his head. "Not your type, I take it?"

The lizard explained here and there which commands performed what function, and occasionally asked Crispin simple questions to confirm that he was understanding the algorithms. Which he wasn't, for the most part, but hey, fake it 'til you make it. This continued for some time, until Crispin's watch buzzed. On cue, the ocelot reached into his jacket's pocket and plucked out an orange bottle. As he went to twist open the bottle-

"Hey! I asked you a question, Ocelot!"

The sudden jump in the lizard's voice startled Crispin - he fumbled with the bottle in hand and, pretty much in slow motion, watched it drop to the ground and roll away. And since the cap had been loosened... a few pills had rolled out.

"Ah... ahaha, excuse me a moment."

He pounced from his chair to the floor and scrambled to pick up the spilled tablets, then charged for the bottle, which had rolled over to the desk next door. Xell and Rey's desk.

Suddenly he popped up onto his feet beside them, a gleaming smile in his face as he held the remaining dropped pill between his fingers. "Whew! Gottem all. Oh! Sorry guys. Don't uh, don't mind me. Lizzy here just bein' an asshole n' scaring me. Pretend you didn't see me."

What the ocelot didn't know was that he had inadvertently grabbed Xell's pills that had spilled by his feet. And he was fairly close to reaching for his water flask to down it.
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Hidden 8 days ago 8 days ago Post by RainbowFizz
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RainbowFizz Mind is willing, soul remains

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Level 72, reception area

Zach was left wide eyed and mouth ajar within the femme squirrel's embrace. Mind unwilling, soul remained.
Quickly gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyebrows impetuously, his synaptic impulses told him to reach out and snap the squirrel’s neck in half; like a withered twig.
Before he was able to pursue his animal instinct- he almost tumbled over as the squirrel spun and slipped away with excitement.
As he flailed ridiculously, he reached out for something to steady himself!
The nearest entity he was able to grasp was the fire extinguisher. Strongly secured by bracing on the wall.

With that action, his knees barely buckled before he was able to hoist himself back up again. Flicking his head back to get the long silver hair out of his eyes. He continued to steady himself upon the halon containing steel canister. Feeling the cold steel beneath his finger tips as the rage burnt from within.

She was a problem. Too much free reign, non compliant, unrealistic, ditzy...
What was worse, Zach had smelt a rat since the worker girl stepped through with a dainty foot in this building. Almost like she was masquerading the joint like a ballroom dancer- but why exactly had she attended? This workplace was hardly meant for a dance, or fun for that matter! Furthermore, he was outright offended on so many levels.
‘Zachy...?!’
Earning the title of a pet name was a punishment that deserved open fire on the spot, Maynard thought with a growl. Surely, she was having a laugh? The incredulity of the incident was outrageous. Did she not grasp the serious nature of being beckoned to the Director’s office in any of its entirety at all?

“Childish Mink,” he breathed out, exasperated. Naturally he could chase her down. Wipe that pathetic smile off her face.
For he was well equipped with pharmaceuticals far more powerful than what he possessed in pill form. He drummed his fingers upon a loaded cartridge secured within his belt. Gritting his teeth as he tried to process his next action.
Or, there was another way. He was waiting for that moment. Waiting for an excuse. To initiate that process.
He was shaking. Grasping onto the canister that began to make it rattle somewhat. The former background piano music continued to prove itself relinquished.
He turned a cold shoulder to the entrance of the office, and directed his fraught face towards his desk. Eyes set on his computer, where he could ‘initiate the process’.

“Zacharias Maynard.” A cold voice called out from behind “not yet.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Level 72, Office

Camera on

Xell blinked morbidly at the events that unravelled before him. It was certainly out of the ordinary compared to what one would anticipate as a typical workforce day. The usual regime of a dreary commute, a cocktail of pill swallowing and coal face typing for 9 hours straight became replaced by some form of life. Namely, his bashful colleague requesting if he could use his computer to render high resolution artwork. The arrival of the smutty fennec who he had recognised from an X-rated photo, and now Crispin. Who he had spoken to once or twice in the past at best. He may have had more opportunities had he been a regular at the Office but somehow, Xell didn’t think that that was quite the case. For some reason.

"Whew! Gottem all. Oh! Sorry guys. Don't uh, don't mind me. Lizzy here just bein' an asshole n' scaring me. Pretend you didn't see me."

“Gottem?” Xell queried. The dragon shoved his hands in his pockets whilst he looked to the floors and desks. He had to be talking about some belongings he dropped on the floor right? Maybe a pen, pencil… wallet? And why did he make such a snide remark about the Lizard?

“Oh right, well whatever you retrieved, glad you found it…” Xell grinned sheepishly. A bead of sweat running down his face as he remembered his own careless grasp less than a few minutes ago. He was banking on Rey carrying out his task post haste. Then he could retrieve his pills and stash them away. But then that femme showed up, who Rey was yet to acknowledge. And Crispin.
Was he a chef? A cat chef?
Xell winced as he found it extremely difficult to keep his thoughts on a consistent tangent.
Suffering from concentration problems and anxiety, he needed his dexamphetamines. More so to overcome the garbage he had been dispensed by Zach earlier. What where they? Tranquilisers? Anti depressants? Benzodiazepenes? After all, blue normally means a come down or suppressant. A means to coax a patient into a situation they would question or wouldn't normally accept.
Red or orange one may associated with a stimulant? Seize the day, live life to the maximum. Determination to press on or unravel the truth... right?
Xell was strictly told to take what he was given. Never to mix his poisons.
But....

“Hey sweets… do you wanna pull that pose again? Sure tickled my fancy!” a random voice hollered. Causing an entire row to erupt in laughter. Daring glances with a snigger directed towards Athena, whilst gossip travelled like wildfire.

“Pays the bills,” Athena held her own. Paying no mind to the obnoxious crown as she waved a dismissive hand.

“Excuse me… I really… really need to find something…” Xell was getting anxious. He looked around frantically, before pacing up and down the cubicle. Athena sullen and bored by the whole display.

Before the grey dragon could utter another sentence, he couldn’t help but stare as he recognised a pill about to be swallowed by the Ocelot who swung by earlier.
One of HIS pills. Orange looking paracetomol like pill with a pink grainy texture. His Adderall!

“Noooooooo….” Xell leapt in the air, hand wound backwards as he was going to attempt to smack the pill out of Crispin’s mouth.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Level 72, Reception

“Hmmm... I thought that may be you...” Zach was kneeled down on the ground in resentment. Having lost his cool as a phantom like presence presumably had witnessed all.

“Well, where else would I be?” The voice replied, a borderline suave but serious tone about it.

A plumage of silver hair draped Zach’s face, casting his eyes in shadow just above a gritted expression on his mussel.
“I don’t want to play this game anymore.” The dog rose swiftly. The urge to storm out of the building a rightful retribution in his mind.

Go, don’t stand in contemplation The thought passed Zach’s mind.

Maynard froze. Eyes amped with constricted pupils. An assembly of shadowy men immersed from the surroundings.
Goosebumps started to streak through his skin as his fur stood on edge.

The figures had cloaked, scarves up to the orbital floors of their faces which acted as a platform for their thick black shades. Human in appearance, xenomorphic in aura.

“...They’re not real,” the dog uttered with contempt.

“Oh AREN’T they?” The voice mocked. Tone beckoning the assembly to step forward. Menacing facades gradually closing in upon Zach and the entity behind him.

As they emerged, cracking could be heard from tasers they were holding up.
A sweat drop pooled off of Zach’s face and splashed onto the floor. His body hot but beginning to precipitate a cold sweat.

“Am I supposed to believe that just because you got knocked off your perch, that you’re going to dwell on the floor with the barrel of a gun in your face?” The figure sneered, immediately replaced by a grin. Performing a quick shot imitation with his middle and index finger that aimed in Zach’s direction.

“... that’s what they do to sterile chickens.”

Zach gave two very slow nods. A gesture of acknowledgement and disgust to conceal his defeat.

His knuckles tightened on either side of his body. A slight turn with the aid of peripheral vision revealed the reckoning standing behind him. A tall coral figure emanating a supernatural aura.
He had long perked vampiric like ears with a suave, dark cerulean parted hairstyle that framed his clean cut face. He doned a set of nature defying toxic green eyes. Irises echoing a sinister sense of arrogance and need to play cat and mouse. His demeanour and attire, clad in a leather jacket and jeans suggested his style to be very similar to the 1950s era.

Zach inadvertently shrunk as he forced himself to turn around to look at him. Like ripping a band aid off an unhealed wound.
The creature’s aura was oppressive.
Zach could not even hear the harmonious splashes of the waterfalls anymore. Instead, a monotoned drone that weighed down the atmosphere.

“Aleksei?”

The creature snapped his right set of fingers. A flare igniting which he conveniently used to light up a cigarette. Taking a long drag, before exhaling fumes that rapidly started to smog the vicinity.

“I think you and I should watch the 'flagged ones' on camera. Don't you?" the devil asked "the Director would love to know their names."
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shylarah the crazy one

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"Not a better computer. Just a better monitor -- and even that took some doing." Rey hadn't even noticed the fallen medication -- or if he had, he opted to say nothing about it. Athena's arrival made him try very hard to focus on his work, rather than the fennec posing at the cubical wall. Jessamine was a cheerful distraction, and Crispin another. It was much easier to ignore Athena who, while pretty, kept pressuring him to draw her and didn't seem to have any intention of paying for the privelage. Between Crispin and Liz, Rey actually found a smile.

"There, I think that'll -- whoa!" Suddenly Crispin dived under Xell's desk, making Rey push himself aside to give him space and nearly topple himself out of his chair. Laughter rang out, and for a moment Rey thought it was at him, but no: someone was heckling Athena. She was more than capable of handling it, at least.

Then Xell leaped at Crispin, and this time Rey did get knocked out of his chair, landing hard on the floor. The dragon was going for a capsule that matched the ones Rey had politely pretended not to notice. Was it Xell's? Was Crispin really oblivious enough not to check the label on the pill, after picking it up from the floor? Best to let the two of them sort it out, though, instead of stepping in himself.
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