apocalypsehowcomm | Event

Dogged

The message goes out to everyone on ADI's network. It seems to be something captured live. It's Pam Ruan, head of HR who holds a prosthetic finger up to her lips before whispering, "Everyone's pushing for transparency right now, right? Figuring out where threats are coming from and sharing. I think that should come at all levels. Let's see what Nia's talking about with Mr. Zyrian Steel, hmm?"

The camera flips around as Pam clearly creeps closer to an office door. There are muffled voices, and Pam sets the phone face up before using one hand to shove the thing under the door. The video shows a sliding picture of the office's bland ceiling for a moment before coming to a stop. The voices become much clearer.

"-down in Wolf Trap," a masculine voice is saying. Presumably, Zyrian Steel. "There's just no need for that."

"Zyrian, this ain't a negotiation." Nia Lehrer's voice is familiar to most people working at ADI at this point. They've likely heard her speak in some pre-recorded training videos at the bare minimum. Nia's tone is no nonsense and clearly on the edge of snapping in frustration. "You're not hiring us. I'm sending my people down to Wolf Trap next month. We've got evidence of those signalhead things being on the march, one down that way, your kick off for New Horizons in the park, and evidence out of there about the Lullaby Girl from some of my people."

There is silence.

"You remember her? Ava? Or Amber, it seems like. She's the one you gave us those Lucidio masks to help train our people against. Frankly, I'd be surprised if you don't remember her, Mr. S." Another drawn out pause. "You ain't been straight with me for a long time. You ain't been straight with ADI since Tawnya was Warden. You tell me you need us in Buffalo, payback for helping in Wolf Pen and Cortana and the mobile med units, and not only do half the staff come back with crab claws and whiskers, but I find out you're using us for business politics." There's venom in her tone. "Or were you just going to stay quiet about Etcher's enterprises competing with your own software companies? ADI is not your personal attack dog. You are our client. And I thought my friend. But I'm about 30 seconds away from firing you from both."

Further silence, then a heavy sigh. "And I was going to offer to send you and your staff on such a nice retreat." There's the sound of a chair being pushed back. "Warden, I think you misunderstand the nature of our relationship. You are the dogs. I am the master. I hold your leash. Or have you forgotten just how much technology I've donated to ADI over the years, how many of your systems run on things I built? We've had a mutually beneficial relationship up until now- Well… you and I have. Tawnya got to be a problem before the end, too. But I made sure that was taken care of."

"You self-aggrandizing son of a-"

"You're a much more practical woman than she ever was, even with those shiny ideals you hold so dear. You'll compromise for the greater good, to protect what's yours. Such a good Warden, looking out for her charges."

"What are you talking about? And get your hands the hell off my desk."

"Haven't you ever wondered about the title? Warden. Odd name for a leader of any organization, even one like yours. But maybe not so odd when you consider your more eldritch masters." A scoff. "The Hunt always does pick out the most oblivious avatars, doesn't it? What does a Warden do?" A beat. "She controls the monsters, Nia. Sniffs them out and contains them. And she goes after the poachers coming after her prey. Tell me, have you ever noticed how you're always picking up on threats far afield with uncanny precision. It's been getting stronger, hasn't it? Tawnya was the same way. As was her predecessor, I imagine."

"That's not- I wouldn't ever…"

"Wouldn't you, though? Every time you sent your own dogs after a threat, reveled in it, you were being such a good Warden, instilling terror in the hearts of your enemies, ADI's enemies. So many cults know who and what you are and they fear it. Fear the Warden of ADI, famed avatar of the Hunt. Even now, I know you've compromised yourself. Have you considered what that's done to you? You let that Visionary kid stay alive. I rather think that might have been the start of your slide, hmm? Making exceptions, just this once.

"Now," he continues, voice growing louder and footsteps starting toward the phone, "I realize this is a lot to take in, to think about. Why don't you do that self-reflection while I attend to other matters? You are doing good work, puppy. I need a dependable pet to take care of all those nasty pests who keep trying rituals. But no need to worry about the New Horizons launch, really. I'll just-" Zyrian pauses and everyone will have a view of a middle-aged caucasian man with dark, slightly graying hair and a beard. He's wearing khakis and a Hawaiian shirt, and he's looking down at Pam's phone.

"Well… fuck." He stomps a heeled shoe on it and the transmission ends abruptly.

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She sighs, her gaze locked on her swollen and lightly bleeding knuckles as if glued there.

"There was a plan," she explains. "It was stolen."

No excuses, she can hear Bruce say. That was also part of the deal.

"I stole it," she corrects herself. "I wanted to do something big, to prove that I could." To prove that she could do something right, that she could be useful. To prove that she was worth something. If anyone else were telling the story she would call it context, but to her it's just another excuse.

Her voice is quiet but steady, as if she's telling this story from very far away. She feels far away.

"I was missing details. I..." How does she explain this bit? Does Rue know about gangs? Being vague is only so useful when trying to explain how a 17 year-old girl brings a city to its knees.

"I called all of Gotham's criminal leaders together. They were supposed to talk. But when nobody showed up to explain things, well... they got nervous. They started shooting. Hardly any of them made it out alive."

That was the first moment the mirror had shown her. That terrible, violent moment when the quiet alley had errupted into an explosion of sound that made her ears ring even through the glass. The silence that followed after Catwoman left was even worse.

"Things only escalated from there. With their leaders dead, the gangs went crazy. Some wanted revenge, some wanted to claim new territory... Well. You saw how bad it got. I found out later that the guy that didn't show up was the person I'd stolen the plans from."

She's silent for a moment. Her hand hasn't so much as twitched while Rue worked on it. How much more is there to explain? Does it matter? They saw what happened to Orpheus. They don't need to know about Black Mask, or Africa, or all the times since then that she's wondered if she should have bothered coming back.

Rue listens. Their paws are gentle against Steph's as they work, cleaning the blood and bandaging the broken skin, and then carefully wrapping the whole hand to keep anything broken or fractured together. That piece will have to be done by Dr. Carter himself, with more advanced tools and experience, but Rue can at least do this, to tend to Steph's broken hand now.

And all the while, they listen.

It's true that they are missing much of the context, there are pieces of what Steph says that just don't make sense to the owlbear, but the core of it eventually comes together. A mistake that led to dozens of deaths, a mistake that sent a whole city tumbling into chaos, a mistake that cost Stephanie absolutely everything. Even with their own past fuck ups to compare to, Rue can not even begin to imagine the gravity of such a thing weighing on anyone, but especially someone as young as Steph.

She's basically an infant in fey terms, a mere comma in the long life of a faerie. But she is just as haunted as Tim and Peter and all of the other troubled teens that Rue has taken under their wing in this realm. It is entirely unfair, to think she was under such devastating pressure, so desperate for validation, enough to cause such a tremendous harm across her city.

How could anyone truly think it Stephanie's fault?

Once bandaged, Rue's paw carefully engulfs Steph's, simply holding it close, while their free hand slips up to very carefully tuck her hair behind her ear with a talon.

"I hear you. What else? Speak of your fears, your old hurts, your past memories. Whatever you feel you need to share. Pray, leave it here with me and I shall carry your burden for the both of us."

Steph glances briefly into Rue's face, then turns away. She doesn't understand what she sees in those huge eyes, and that's probably for the best right now. There's too much kindness in their voice. Her fears, her hurts and memories, they're too big to give to anyone else. They're hers, and she deserves to feel their weight.

"I was stupid," she says in that same distant, even voice, a fact rather than a feeling. "I was too proud to admit my mistake or ask for help and the whole city paid the price."

Rue's feathery paw gently brushes across Steph's cheek, just a quick, affectionate touch, before their paw drops away. They do not want to overstep, to push their way into the young woman's space more than they already have today. Nor do they want to invalidate her feelings by telling her none of this should have been her fault in the first place.

It's a tricky, sad situation, to feel that one has to shoulder the full burden of blame. To think this one mistake should keep that deep feeling of guilt alive within them forever.

"Lady Steph, we are still new friends, but please know you are not alone. After so many months here, this is what I have learned most in this land. That no one needs to endure these trials on their own. Pray, protect yourself and let others help. I promise to have your back, no matter what."

Their free paw rests over her bandaged hand, fully engulfing it in silken feathers and careful talons.

"And that, my friend, is a fey promise. We are not make oaths so freely. Our words are binding. So please, should you ever need me, know that I will be there."

That touch is just so soft. She's braced to push away any kind of emotion, but not such a gentle physical sensation. Her lip trembles, and tears prick at her eyes when she makes the mistake of glancing up at Rue's face again.

She doesn't know what to say. They're nearly strangers, and the darkest parts of Steph's soul were just put on display, and Rue is swearing an oath to be on her side. Steph certainly didn't try to defend herself or play down what happened.

She bites her lip and nods.

It is enough.

With a beak, Rue may not be able to smile quite as huge as a human, but their eyes are warm and gentle as they pull away, before pushing the tea into Steph's good hand. They rise back up and step towards their own desk, just to give the young woman a little space to herself.

"Here, it will warm you up before we go to see Dr. Carter. He'll be able to better care for your hand."

She stares down at the tea, enjoying the scent for a long moment while she blinks back tears. One escapes her, but at least she doesn't break down sobbing. She takes one cautious sip. It actually has a taste, so it's much better than the tea she's made herself in the past.

"It's okay," she says after a moment, voice still strained but sounding a little more normal now. "There's not really anything they can do about knuckles. I've broken them before."

Rue settles carefully down onto another chair, smoothing out their skirt, before clasping their paws together in their lap.

It doesn't sit right with them, that one so young should know how to tend to broken knuckles. That she should be blamed for starting gang wars and forced to shoulder the guilt of so many deaths on her tiny frame. But Rue also knows that this friendship between them is still so new, and they have already pried into Stephanie's background more than enough.

So their brow pinches, worry settling deep behind their dark eyes, but they refrain from pushing.

"Pray, tell me how I can help." Even if it is simply walking Stephanie back to her apartment, just to see that she arrives safely, Rue will do whatever she asks.

Event - Dogged

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