Cora, thank God, had not chosen to wear heels. She had chosen a pair of
fancy flip flops that her father had gotten her to match the skirt. The
throng on them was black and beaded intricately, and the sole was
beautiful. It was, in short, the type of thing that Cora had never worn.
There was a small knot of six other people at the front of the door. Cora hesitated before making her way between them. Most of them seemed to guess that formal wear was required, but the only other woman there was wearing a high turtleneck - albiet a sleeveless one - and a pair of jeans.
"You're late, Cora." Scythe said.
"Yeah." Cora muttered. "There was this thing ... never mind."
"Alright, can we get introductions out of the way then?" Scythe said. "I'm Scythe, the Commander ... and, of course, the weapons and blade specialist."
Well, he definately looks pleased with himself over that. Cora thought sarcastically. Then she gave herself a mental slap. Just because Scythe had reprimanded her for being late was no reason to turn into a frigid ninja bitch.
"I'm Cobra." one of the men said. He looked like a typical marine. "Explosives specialist."
I wonder if he ever took out a toilet with a cherry bomb? Cora was getting impaient, and her mind was beginning to wander.
"I'm Ada, resident hacker hacker." the second woman said, brushing some of her jaw length brown hair out of her eyes. She had a slight grin on as well.
"Tweek." another man said.
That'd be a code name. Unless his parents were pyschos. Cora, be polite. Cora hated introductions. She gave a slight smile to herself.
"I'm the combat specialist." Tweek shrugged.
"Reeve, second in command." Reeve gave a slight hand gesture. "Another combat specialist."
"Foxx, marksman."
With all the introductions, that left only Cora.
"Cora Merandez, stealth expert." she said, trying to be as casual as all the others. She thought she came off fairly well. She knew that she was the youngest one there, and she was earnest not to come off as a bubbly idiot. She was touchy about being judged on her age - she had always been given the low class jobs back in Mexico, businessmen, minor politicians, troublesome protestors, activists - the low pay jobs. And if she ever asked. 'Please, I'd like a higher class job' (you had to show respect to Copley, or he'd kill you. Odd, he was like Umbrella in some aspects), then you'd be laughed at or else get your pay docked.
To her relief, no one inquired after her age, or laughed at her.
"Right, shall we be off then?" Scythe said.
"I uh, don't have a way to get around." Cora said. Great, now everyone would think as her as a dead weight.
"Nah, it's OK. I checked with Umbrella, so they gave you a little gift."
"What?" Cora was shocked. Umbrella giving Cora a gift? That was like having Copley give out pay raises. Or else Satan raising up from the cracks of doom to hit on Cora.
No, wait, that had already happened. Salven was blantantly hitting on Cora.
"It's pretty nice. Surprising, really." Scythe said. "It's in the garage if you want to go see it." he turned to the others. "You guys, drive yourselves. We're not doing a carpool."
"Fine by me." Tweek said. The others gave various agreements as they headed out to the parking lot. Scythe turned to Cora.
"You might want to hurry." he said dryly.
"Sure, just give me the address and I'll be there in a flash." Cora grinned, then scrambled downstairs. Then her jaw dropped open.
Before if Cora got a 'gift' from her employers, it would have been a slight token. A cheap necklace, a dinner, something similar to that. Never ever ever before had Cora had so much money spent on her.
Before her stood a luxurious motorcycle. It was coated in blue flames, and the helmet was sitting on the back seat - with matching flames.
"Holy shit." Cora said, shocked. "This is ... This is ... This is beautiful!"
There was a note on the seat. There always was. Was all of Umbrella just horribly anti-social?
Cora,
Your trainer and teachers alike seem to be delighed in your progress. As was previously mentioned, Umbrella is very kind.
Of course, you'll remember this gift as a gift from Umbrella. We were informed that your father often gave you small gifts when he came home. We, of course, cannot take your father's place. But we will try to do the same thing for you. After all, there's nothing better than a warm maternal figure in one's life, is there?
Good luck with your new team. Although some of the higher ups have had doubts about this Hunter...
Cora guessed that was Scythe. That was very interesting to know, that they had doubts about Scythe. Did Scythe know? And what ever happened to people who got fired anyways? Cora turned back to the note:
He will no doubt lead you well. He was trained by Umbrella, after all.
Oh, this reminds me ... the last words of your father. I don't believe that you ever learned of them. I apologize for not informing you sooner. They were "Please, Umbrella, look after my daughters. Keep them safe." Of course, we intend to honour this wish. Don't get hurt, now!
-Gabriel Turnbull
Cora was livid when she put the note down. Her father's last words was 'Make sure that my blood doesn't stain the money in my pockets!" How dare Umbrella do something like this? Cora had no choice though. She was secured tightly to their puppet strings, and she would have to dance to their flute.
There was a small knot of six other people at the front of the door. Cora hesitated before making her way between them. Most of them seemed to guess that formal wear was required, but the only other woman there was wearing a high turtleneck - albiet a sleeveless one - and a pair of jeans.
"You're late, Cora." Scythe said.
"Yeah." Cora muttered. "There was this thing ... never mind."
"Alright, can we get introductions out of the way then?" Scythe said. "I'm Scythe, the Commander ... and, of course, the weapons and blade specialist."
Well, he definately looks pleased with himself over that. Cora thought sarcastically. Then she gave herself a mental slap. Just because Scythe had reprimanded her for being late was no reason to turn into a frigid ninja bitch.
"I'm Cobra." one of the men said. He looked like a typical marine. "Explosives specialist."
I wonder if he ever took out a toilet with a cherry bomb? Cora was getting impaient, and her mind was beginning to wander.
"I'm Ada, resident hacker hacker." the second woman said, brushing some of her jaw length brown hair out of her eyes. She had a slight grin on as well.
"Tweek." another man said.
That'd be a code name. Unless his parents were pyschos. Cora, be polite. Cora hated introductions. She gave a slight smile to herself.
"I'm the combat specialist." Tweek shrugged.
"Reeve, second in command." Reeve gave a slight hand gesture. "Another combat specialist."
"Foxx, marksman."
With all the introductions, that left only Cora.
"Cora Merandez, stealth expert." she said, trying to be as casual as all the others. She thought she came off fairly well. She knew that she was the youngest one there, and she was earnest not to come off as a bubbly idiot. She was touchy about being judged on her age - she had always been given the low class jobs back in Mexico, businessmen, minor politicians, troublesome protestors, activists - the low pay jobs. And if she ever asked. 'Please, I'd like a higher class job' (you had to show respect to Copley, or he'd kill you. Odd, he was like Umbrella in some aspects), then you'd be laughed at or else get your pay docked.
To her relief, no one inquired after her age, or laughed at her.
"Right, shall we be off then?" Scythe said.
"I uh, don't have a way to get around." Cora said. Great, now everyone would think as her as a dead weight.
"Nah, it's OK. I checked with Umbrella, so they gave you a little gift."
"What?" Cora was shocked. Umbrella giving Cora a gift? That was like having Copley give out pay raises. Or else Satan raising up from the cracks of doom to hit on Cora.
No, wait, that had already happened. Salven was blantantly hitting on Cora.
"It's pretty nice. Surprising, really." Scythe said. "It's in the garage if you want to go see it." he turned to the others. "You guys, drive yourselves. We're not doing a carpool."
"Fine by me." Tweek said. The others gave various agreements as they headed out to the parking lot. Scythe turned to Cora.
"You might want to hurry." he said dryly.
"Sure, just give me the address and I'll be there in a flash." Cora grinned, then scrambled downstairs. Then her jaw dropped open.
Before if Cora got a 'gift' from her employers, it would have been a slight token. A cheap necklace, a dinner, something similar to that. Never ever ever before had Cora had so much money spent on her.
Before her stood a luxurious motorcycle. It was coated in blue flames, and the helmet was sitting on the back seat - with matching flames.
"Holy shit." Cora said, shocked. "This is ... This is ... This is beautiful!"
There was a note on the seat. There always was. Was all of Umbrella just horribly anti-social?
Cora,
Your trainer and teachers alike seem to be delighed in your progress. As was previously mentioned, Umbrella is very kind.
Of course, you'll remember this gift as a gift from Umbrella. We were informed that your father often gave you small gifts when he came home. We, of course, cannot take your father's place. But we will try to do the same thing for you. After all, there's nothing better than a warm maternal figure in one's life, is there?
Good luck with your new team. Although some of the higher ups have had doubts about this Hunter...
Cora guessed that was Scythe. That was very interesting to know, that they had doubts about Scythe. Did Scythe know? And what ever happened to people who got fired anyways? Cora turned back to the note:
He will no doubt lead you well. He was trained by Umbrella, after all.
Oh, this reminds me ... the last words of your father. I don't believe that you ever learned of them. I apologize for not informing you sooner. They were "Please, Umbrella, look after my daughters. Keep them safe." Of course, we intend to honour this wish. Don't get hurt, now!
-Gabriel Turnbull
Cora was livid when she put the note down. Her father's last words was 'Make sure that my blood doesn't stain the money in my pockets!" How dare Umbrella do something like this? Cora had no choice though. She was secured tightly to their puppet strings, and she would have to dance to their flute.
