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Event - Dogged

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 gives him an odd look at that, clearly taken off guard by the casual way he drops it into the conversation.

"...If you've got a grenade it might work, but I'd rather not do that in the hallway," she points out. "Cement's more contained. You think you can get this thing to move without getting eaten?"

"I almost always have a grenade," he says, which is probably not reassuring. "I can try to make it move," he adds, dubious but willing to give it a go. He pokes at its side, which at least doesn't result in the broomstick getting shredded further. It does make its teeth-grinding noise again, though, like it's trying.

"What are you going to do?" he asks, nudging the bucket again, trying to make it scoot aside. "After the artifacts are rounded up."

It is not reassuring, and the way she edges away from him probably has more to do with that than the need to go fetch some concrete.

"Head down to Wolf Trap," she replies promptly. "Frankly I'm not convinced the artifacts are our top priority right now. We stop whatever Steel's doing, those of us willing to handle it, and then we go our separate ways."

Edited 2023-05-29 21:07 (UTC)

He doesn't react to her movement beyond a kind of weary resignation. He's kind of used to that. It doesn't mean he's going to stop carrying grenades, though. They're useful. (And he likes blowing evil things up.)

"Got to actually get us all down there if we're going to be much use. Like last time. Need to work together, for that."

... god, he is hoping they get a bus this time. Or he and his own team can just drive it. He doesn't think he can handle another trip on a train.

"Maybe," replies Rae. "I won't say no to help when I go, but I can only fit so many people in my van. Listen--if we can get this thing fifty feet down the hall I think we have a shot at punting it into the demolition zone. Make our lives easier whether it's cement or a grenade after that."

Taking careful aim, she thwacks the base of the bucket with her sledgehammer, sending it skittering down the hallway...and taking up chunks of carpet.

"We rented a car last time. So I didn't have to go on the train. My team could do that again," Winter suggests, advancing on the bucket and giving it another prod, himself, sending it further down the hall. He's not going to risk his boots, but the broomstick is still doing okay. They lose more carpet.

He adds, "Though Lehrer still wants to do it, too. She's determined to finish that before she kills herself."

Rae stalks after the bucket, readying her sledgehammer, but she stops and looks back at Winter when he mentions Nia. Her expression is stricken, a flurry of emotions evident in her eyes.

"She said that? That she's going to kill herself?"

"She did," Winter says soberly. "Or, well. That she'll deal with the ritual, try to stop us showing up here from other worlds, and then die. Doing it herself was. Implied."

He doesn't really like that, either, even though he's not exactly friends with her. Even if normally he'd want to shoot her in the head for being what she is.

"Hell. That's not much different than what she's been saying, just...a lot more final than leaving it up to her successor to lock her up for her crimes. God damn it, Nia."

She takes a stride forward and pings the bucket hard down the hallway, bouncing it off the walls and tearing out chunks of drywall. "Let's get this thing outside already. I need a cigarette."

"I used to do that," Winter says meditatively, taking his own turn to swat the bucket closer to the door. It might chew its way through the door, if they get it close enough, if just to get away from them. "Smoke. A long time ago. Wonder if it's different now."

"You say the weirdest shit, son."

The bucket rolls away from her as she approaches with her hammer, and Rae slows her movements, like a predator stalking dangerous prey. She makes a little feint toward the bucket and it lurches toward her, showing more liveliness than it has up to this point, perhaps in response to their merciless hammering. Rae dodges back, giving Winter an opening.

"I am pretty weird," Winter admits, deadpan, but then he's swooping down on the bucket with his broom handle, swinging it like a baseball bat, sending the bucket flying smack into the door at the end of the hallway. Making a horrific grinding noise, it starts trying to grind through the wood, as expected.

Winter considers just letting it. At least it'll get outside. "Cement or grenade?" he asks.

"Look at that fuckin' thing go," says Rae instead of answering right away, wiping sweat from her brow as she watches the bucket make its escape bid straight through a solid wood door. "Aw, hell, I never grabbed cement--you know what, you only live once and this place is going to the dogs anyhow. I'm guessing you've got a grenade handy?"

"I do. I picked up a couple before going hunting. Just in case." He doesn't normally carry them on patrols within the ADI complex, though he always has at least two for missions in the field. Today is special. "I'll wait until it's finished with the door, though."

He pauses, then asks, "Can I share the smokes?"

"Yeah, and make sure it's not right up against the wall, will you? I don't want this place coming down on our heads."

She chuckles and nods. "You share your grenades, that's worth me sharing a smoke."

There's an even worst crunching noise as the bucket breaks through the wood of the door, and Winter edges closer to watch it tumble out onto the grass outside. "They smell different," he says thoughtfully as he plucks a grenade from the back of his tac jacket, rolling it thoughtfully in his palm while he waits for the bucket to roll further from the building. "From the last time I had one. The modern ones smell different. I wonder if they taste different, too."

Rae looks like she's going to open the door to see where the bucket's gone, then thinks better of it and drops into a crouch to watch through the hole from behind Winter. "I take it you're from another time, then?"

"Apparently I was in the second World War," Winter says, dropping to a crouch to watch the bucket tumbling away. "I don't remember much of it anymore. It's complicated." And the story tends to upset people. He'll share if she asks, but first, he instructs, "Stand to one side of the hole," and lobs his grenade through the hole.

Even without his serum, his aim is impeccable. There's a loud boom and debris clatters through the hole, which Winter keeps off his face with the metal arm.

She doesn't ask, for better or worse. Rae gets up and shuffles to the side as requested, covering her ears for good measure. She still flinches at the sound of the explosion, and it takes her a moment to uncover her ears and tentatively reach for the door handle. She looks to Winter before she turns it.

"Money on whether you got it on the first toss, soldier?"

"Hit it or killed it?" Winter clarifies. "Because I definitely hit it."

Rae muses a second. "Killed it, then. Since you had a better view than me."

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Event - Dogged

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cw reference to suicide

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cw reference to suicide; smoking

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