So today may not have been her best day. Her head was a little fuzzy, vision wasn't entirely focused, and her stomach threatened to eject the coffee and danish she had forced down before heading to work. But the fuzzy vision might be from the dark room she had woken up to.
"Please just let it be a hangover."
"So you finally decide to grace us with your presence."
"Oh dear god." She groaned as she pushed herself up. "What the fuck do you want?"
A deep chuckle resounded through the dark room. "You really don't know do you?" a light clicked on above her head expanding what little she had been able to see of the shadowy room. "For years now X-Ray and Vav have been a thorn in our side." The tap of way too fancy to be necessary shoes echoed by, a dark form just on the edges of her vision.
"Join the club."
Another chuckle, this one darker, more like something reminiscent of the Mad King. "They were a thorn, but they were contained. We could remove them and let them continue running around -completely oblivious- again and again." The clicks stop, the dark form is too far back in the shadows. "And then they met you."
"So now you have more than one thorn? Or did it just get bigger?"
"A thorn that could not be dislodged." The clicks start again, louder, faster.
"Answering the question by ignoring it, classic."
"Then your inebriated spymaster joined the ranks, and that insufferable journalist." hot annoyance, burning anger building beneath his words.
"So this is about getting to the others huh?" She can see a bit more clearly, her glasses weren't knocked too far away. Her hands are now working on her wrists, fiddling with the cuffs and chains. "Take out the 'weak link' and it all comes crumbling down?"
A door creaks. "Oh this be about more than just yer troublesome crew girly."
"Fuck."
"Aye, it be me, the Corpirate, back to take what be rightfully mine."
She sighs heavily. "How are you even here? You fell off the damn building."
"Twas the very instrument that brought my downfall as saved me life." softer clicks, his voice doesn't echo as much, he's somewhere to her left.
"The Slo Mo hands."
"Aye, the Slo Mo hands."
"Sir, should we begin the interrogation?"
"Ye be right, time to see just what this wench knows." he steps just into the light in front of her, his monocle glinting. "Time to sing little siren," he laughs as he turns back to the door. "Bring us those 'heroes' of yers."
"If ye don't bring me results by this time tomorrow, ye scurvy self, and yer scurvy crew twill all be walking the plank to Davy Jones' locker!" ugh, there came another headache.
"Sirs, she's coming to." she lifts one of her still shackled hands to her head and stiffens at the shortness of the hair framing her face.
"Really? The hair guys?" she slowly moves to an upright position. Ignoring the smells and tackiness under her hands she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. "You couldn't have, I don't know: tried psychological torture while I was awake?" she's not sure if the look on their faces is controlled shock or annoyance. Seems they took her glasses this time. "Or at least chosen one that would work."
The Corpirate turns to look at a slightly cowering man in a lab coat. "She was asleep the entire time?"
"W-well, we hoped that if she woke in a physically weakened state, w-with what m-many have said to be one of her best f-features ruined... and without complete sight...Then she m-might be easier t-to m-m-manipulate into giving us inform-mation."
"Well that didn't work now did it doctor?"
"And really? Insults when I already know I look like this? Please." she rolls her eyes and brushes her hands on her jeans. "It's hair, it grows back. You want to mess with me, take my finger, hands, eyes. Things that affect my actual life." Three pairs of eyes are on her and she ignores them in favor of trying her best to straighten out her hair and dirty shirt.
"Are ye sure ye haven't done anythin' else to the wench afore I arrived?"
"N-no sir… she's just," the man makes a lost flailing motion in her direction with one hand, the other gripping his clipboard so tight his knuckles have gone white.
His assistant at the button covered control panel pipes up, "She may be more resilient than we initially thought." Hilda scoffs and shifts into a more comfortable position.
"Have you seen the people I work with?"
"Oh aye," the Corpirate begins pacing about her again. "Yer colored henchmen. The brainless wonders."
"Oh yeah, them too." she smirks, "But, not that brainless." The steps slow, "They got me away from you well enough."
"Aye that they did, but what of after?"
"Excuse me?"
"Yer henchmen got you out, then they brought you right back." The clicking has stopped… again. What was with these people and inconsistent pacing? "Straight into my clutches once again."
"Uh, not into your clutches. Onto your roof, where we whooped your ass."
"We?" a beat, two, three.
"Yeah, we. It was a group effort."
"Like the battle with the Mad King?"
"Well, not exactly. I hadn't made the ORF suit yet."
"And yet they still managed to succeed without yer help." something rises at that. Something old and ugly and way too familiar.
"They had my tech."
"Aye, but they found you without it as well."
"That's just cause… they had… Rusty…" the labcoat man and his assistant share a glance.
"Yes, my old friend. And how is that old scallywag doing?" she can see his monocle glinting in the shadows. "His web of informants and spies more widespread than ever? His reach infecting every level of this city's infrastructure? A finger in every pot?" he chuckles hoarsely. "They won't be needin ye fer much longer." she growls at him. Actually growls.
"Fuck off."
"Oh, the little wolf is coming out to play." She's pulling at her chains, teeth bared. He moves closer. Bending low enough she's just below eye level. "Seems like the bear be gettin to ye."
"You leave him out of this."
"I wonder why he hasn't come for you yet. Yer swashbuckling knight in leather armor."
Her grin is close to feral she knows, and she hopes it works. "With me gone, he's the planner now. He and Rusty are going to bust your plan wide open."
"Buahahaha!" He laughs, arching back from her. "We'll see little siren." He fades into the shadows and the clicks move away from her. "We shall surely see, yarr."
It may not be what he was hoping for, but he smirks at the soft sniffles that come from behind him as he walks away.