lmaoooo, holy crud.
So when I write, I sort of go in with a basic idea of what I want to accomplish - and kind of let the characters bounce around and say what they wanna say. This is the first time I have The Spy actually talking to somebody (not just killing people and simping over Yharim) and i guess she's kinda horn :dying:
welp. that's how it's gonna be I guess.
ejoy
He… He was rather intimidating.
Not in frame and body, of course. Size differences almost never bothered her anymore. She was used to craning her neck to look people in the eye. It was a common thing for her to beat to death soldiers who towered at twice her height. No. It wasn't the perceived threat of attack that unsettled her, neither was it his demeanor in of itself... rather, it was the assumption the demeanor hinted at. The Director rubbed his face with the heel of his palm as he carelessly admonished one of the most powerful people in the land.
"Don't tell me that bastard actually forgot about me?! I'm going to kick him in his metal shins once I get out of here."
"Drae-...you can't mean, Lord Draedon, sir?!
"Lord Draedon, of course I mean him! That damn bucket of screws!"
The Lab Director was… as young as he was bold. Thin, wiry and thoroughly beaten, The Spy was surprised he had managed to muster the strength to attack The Dwarf in his current, ragged condition. That alone made his presence far larger than he was. He was a true patriot, a man who boasted the courage to lay his life down for his loyalty. Although his strength was but a little, he had risked everything in the name of The King. The bruises on his face, the holes in his hand, his missing fingernails, they were all marks of his devotion. He most certainly wasn't an enemy...
But what brash words!
"Draedon requested me to come here, and he doesn't even send the periodic check up? Tch! I bet he still doesn't know what sort of hell I've had to put up with for the past week!"
Yet… how could this man speak so flippantly about Lord Draedon in front of a CC agent?! Just moments ago, he had put his flesh and blood on the line to protect The King's honor, yet here he was - openly criticizing one of Yharim's closest advisors. Just who could this be?! The Spy knew The Director wasn't just a loyalist. Even court officials wouldn't dare open their mouths against the upper echelon of Yharim's army. In fact, what kind of person was he to behave so casually in front of a CC agent? She hadn't met a single civilian who could study their nails while addressing her. Although she was standing at full salute, he didn't even bother to meet her eyes. He acts exactly like the high generals… perhaps he's related to one of them?
"Tch, Fine." He pursed his lips and sighed rather dramatically, focusing his sharp eyes on her as he posed his inquiries. "If Draedon didn't send you, then what's your mission in coming here? I pray you have some time to assist me with this little mutiny."
The Director gestured listlessly out the window before raising his eyes and twisting to straddle the chair. He rested his chin on the back of his folded hands and gazed calmly at her, the annoyance quickly fading from his face. She could feel him looking her up and down with that piercing, calculating stare. She, still at rapt attention, answered aloud - wondering exactly who she might be dealing with. Of course, its impolite to ask outright...
"Sir, I have obtained special permission from King Yharim to investigate the defection of The Lunatic Cultist, to capture The Resistance's Dwarf officer, and to find out-...uh… and course, I will be happy to lend you any assistance necessary."
The Spy bit her tongue before disclosing she had also come to investigate the oddities of This Compound, but granted she was now seated face-to-face with the Director of this place, she figured answers would come sooner or later.
In truth, she should have been suspicious that Lord Yharim would allow her to come here without first informing her of Draedon's secret lab (a lab that Draedon had -apparently- forgotten about?!). She had even mentioned the suspicious barrier in her report, yet The King didn't write anything in his note back to her. However, The Spy had already thoroughly convinced herself of The Lab Director's legitimacy. She had moved past that mental hurtle and was now focused on silently determining The Lab Director's rank. If he was as high up as she suspected - then perhaps this was an opportunity to snag a promotion and make a very powerful friend. This was a situation where she'd best be accommodating.
"Tell me, how can I help you."
She offered him a strained smile. He returned a tired, but genuine one.
"Ah, Agent. I'm glad for your assistance… The Dwarf Officer you're searching for. He's the one you helped me injure, I presume?"
She nodded, recalling the role she played in assisting The Director - and presumably saving his life. He must have recalled the same event because he curled a lip into a vicious snarl unbefitting his genteel features. He presented to her his maimed palm. She saw flint in his eyes as his words seethed from between his teeth.
"That bastard did this to me. I know you need him alive, but promise me you'll make that piece of shit suffer."
"Yes, sir!"
There was real hate in him. If The Spy had any doubts about this man (she didn't), they would have been thoroughly quashed. The Director truly despised the Resistance. At her attestation, he nodded sharply then once again calmed himself. The Spy perceived that The Lab Director was rather emotional - but despite that, he didn't seem the type to act rashly.
"Good, excellent... Agent, take a seat. Ah, excuse the mess."
The Director motioned towards a chair that sat among a pile of destroyed furniture and sighed tiredly. The pale grey light streamed in from the windows and danced over his exhausted features. He shut his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, his mood seemed to improve significantly. As if suddenly remembering hospitality, he grinned sheepishly and sought to attach an explanation to their ruined accommodations.
"That Dwarf was rooting around in here looking for my Comms equipment. Must have found it cause they've been torturing me for codes for the past few days."
He fluttered his left hand absentmindedly and, upon catching sight of his gruesome injuries, she fought to keep her face neutral. Ugh, wrap that up! She had seen her fair share of deformities in men and women alike (she had likewise caused many) but laying eyes on human suffering always elicited a natural, visceral reaction. She noticed his last three fingers were stiff and frozen in painful claw-like position before she discreetly averted her eyes. The Director continued in a voice mimicking cheerfulness. "… I didn't have the time to tidy up before you arrived."
"That's no issue, Sir. You…" She hesitated. "and Naturally, you didn't give them the codes…"
He snorted.
"Of course not. Don't I look beaten enough? There's no need to add insult to injury. I'd rather die than let The Resistance get anything from me."
She couldn't suppress a brief chuckle as she took a seat, pulled down her hood and undid her cloak. She felt her bright pink locks bounce from their restraints to frame her face and noted The Director's muted surprise and very slight blush . Although at first, she had been intimidated by The Director's supposed rank, somehow he put her at ease with his friendly conversation (or perhaps it was his youth? They were likely about the same age). She hadn't really had any good-natured banter with… anyone for a long, long time. Am I getting lonely? She crossed her legs, propped her elbow on her knee and daintily held her chin in a particularly feminine gesture. She purred.
"Insult? Injury? Oh, well what can I say. I do like my men whipped, juuust a teensy bit."
He nearly choked. The expression on his face was somewhere between a held-in laugh and open terror. That snapped her back to attention. She quickly sat straight and rapidly stuttered an apology, admonishing herself all the while. Stupid! You're still on mission! No time for games! Ughh…
"I-I'm very sorry, sir. It was just a joke. That was unbefitting of me. Do you want to use my comms equipment to contact the Capitol? I can reprogram it to accept your codes."
"Ah… ah, of course"
His smile faltered for a moment, then he nodded enthusiastically. Her face red as a beet, she pulled off the heavy pack from her shoulders and lowered it to the ground. It hit the floor with a hollow thump and she bent at the waist to occupy herself rummaging for her equipment. Luckily for The Director, she was doing her best to avoid looking at his face. If she had glanced up, she would have seen the panic mounting in his eyes.
"H-here, we go. Your rank will surely allow you to call for reinforceme-… ah."
The standard military communications radio was a small black box covered in all manner of buttons and flashing lights. It was a complex and difficult to use device, but reliably transmitted encrypted messages. It was a badly kept secret that every officer, high level agent and civilian affiliate had a verification code with which they could request and deliver information to the Capitol… but -to her great dismay- The Spy found her radio quite literally cracked in two, a bullet hole blown straight through the main signal receiver.
No! That stupid gunman! Of all the things in my bag, he managed to hit my comms!?
What an awful bout of bad luck! Damn. She felt her stomach drop to the ground. Thoroughly disgusted with her own incompetence, The Spy gritted her teeth, took a deep breath and declared an apology, not even raising her eyes as she spoke. She knew The Director must be shaking his head in disappointment. Surely he thinks I must be a useless agent… ugh…
"I'm very sorry sir. It appears my equipment has been compromised in the firefight. Please forgive this inconvenience."
"Oh. A pity."
She waited for him to follow up with a round of scolding, but when it didn't come, she slowly raised her eyes. The Director hadn't moved from his spot. He didn't seem too annoyed with her grave mistake and, had she known any better, she might have assumed he didn't want to talk to The Capitol at all. Of course not - he's been trying to contact Draedon for days. This man was simply a master of controlling his temper. Either that, or he was a saint. She felt his sharp eyes drop to stare at her midsection. He frowned deeply.
"Firefight? The Arms Dealer got to you?"
"Ah… yes, the gunman. My wound is mostly healed, But the radio...unfortunately..."
She tensed, once more expecting some sort of reprimand, or at least a backhanded one, but none came. Instead, with a sigh, The Director gingerly stood to his feet and limped over to his dresser (was he limping before?). To her great surprise, he picked up what looked to be a mysterious rune and a small half bottle of healing potion. He presented both to her. She stared at him with disbelief.
"No comms means no reinforcements. You're the only one I can rely on. The potion, I'm sure you're familiar with. Do you know what this is?"
He held up the Rune. It was a small iron artifact that swelled with a powerful sort of magic. It looked cold to the touch and had a small tag attached to it. The paper fluttered slowly, carrying in the magical floes. The words 'Healing Rune' had been scrawled messily on the label.
"Y-Yes sir, that's a rune."
"And you know how to use it?"
"Of course, sir. We commonly use runes. Crush the artifact - release the magic."
He nodded like a schoolteacher.
"This is a very powerful enchantment. Retain it for emergencies only. We mustn't underestimate The Resistance. Rats are filthy, but they certainly are clever."
"Yes, Sir. Of course, sir."
He handed it to her and, with hands trembling, she pocketed the cold steel. In truth, she had only used runes to lay curses on others. Most magic didn't work on CC agents, including healing magic - but the spell did appear particularly powerful. Perhaps it would save her if things got hairy. I can't believe he would give this to me, knowing the effects may only be marginal.
"Heal up too. We have many enemies here."
He proffered the flask of viscous red liquid.
"Yes, sir."
Still thoroughly shaken, she received the healing potion gratefully and popped off the cork. This... perhaps he -is- a saint?! Nobody offered hospitality to CC agents. They were treated like a pack of wild beasts, expected to work and survive without thanks or assistance from the ones they served. Yet this man, whose rank likely gave him the authority to order her to her death, had deigned to look upon her with compassion.
She was about to down the solution when, by chance, she happened to glance at The Director's own burdensome injuries. She faltered. She would really like to ingest this potion - it would bring her back to 100%... but The Director really looked quite awful. Could it be that this was a test? If so, she would not fail it. She gritted her teeth and forced out the words.
"Sir…You are also injured. Don't you need this? Are you certain in giving it to me?"
He slumped back into his chair and yawned.
"I'll live if you manage to kill the Resistance faction. It you fail, then surely they'll come slit my throat. Am I not correct in saying my life hangs by your prowess and abilities? Naturally I will present you every advantage I can give."
It took her a moment to realize this long winded answer meant: 'yes'. She blinked and raised the flask to her lips. These intellectual types were always like this, multiplying words for no reason at all. Yet she was in no position to complain about the goodwill shown to her. As she drank, The Director questioned her further.
"You had mentioned the Lunatic Cultist defected? Is this true?"
"Mhmm…" she tossed back her head, bottomed off the flask and wiped the drops of precious fluid from the corners of her mouth. On any other day, she would've been suspicious that this 'Lab Director' hadn't been informed that Yharim's head mage had not only defected, but had defected and traveled here. But today, she was looking at somebody who had impressed her with his bravery and rank, shown her explicit compassion (she could already feel the healing potion working through her gut) and might actually be good looking once his face was no longer splotched in black and blue.
"Yes sir. I can't believe it either. The Imperial Court's head mage has defected to The Resistance… but not before coming to this area. I'm here to investigate what sort of trickery the traitor had accomplished before fleeing."
The Lab Director nodded, his expression tight and his brow pensive. He muttered something to himself under his breath, and although she likely wasn't meant to hear it, she couldn't help but eavesdrop.
"Perhaps he did something to undo the Dryad Enchantment. Possibly the same one who destroyed The Village? Hm...And The Capitol's Head Nurse has turned as well... What in the world is happening at The Capitol..."
He paused and looked up. She sat straight to attention.
"Agent, when the time comes, I will do my utmost to assist in your investigation. It is also a topic of great interest to me... and given that you have my experiment's arm strapped to your back," The Director indicated towards the thrashing limb tied to her rucksack, "I'm sure you're bursting with questions. However, there is a very urgent issue at hand, namely - my Resistance insurrection."
The Spy nodded, enthusiastically agreeing with him. This man was covering all his bases, addressing her lingering questions and worries as if reading the thoughts from her head.
"Oh, yes. Of course, sir. There will be time for that later. Concerning this predicament - what will you have me do?"
The Director paused, then pursed his lips - drawing his face into careful thought. After a moment, he turned to her.
"First, call me The Director. You may also call me 'The Guide'. I have only been in this new position for a few months, and still am unused to my new title. I will answer to both."
"Yes sir, Guide."
"And you go by Agent? If I will be entrusting myself to somebody, I would at least like to know their name."
The Spy hesitated, then bit her lip and smiled wryly. The Director was not like any other superior she had worked under. He was confident, yet also conscientious - and prone to compassion. She was fain to admit it, but she liked him very much already.
"Agent, yes. Sometimes spy… but I have a nickname."
"Oh?"
He arched an eyebrow.
"I have yet to meet someone I couldn't drink under the table, so they call me 'The Party Girl'".
He chuckled briefly then shook his head. His spirits seemed to have lifted since meeting her, and - as someone who's presence typically brought upon death and despair… it was a nice thing to be appreciated. The Party Girl basked in that warm glow, doing her utmost not to let a sloppy grin splay over her face.
It was a long moment before The Guide spoke once more. He had a calm but very serious voice. She leaned forward, understanding that she was now receiving orders. Normally, she was never happy being ordered around by anyone save The King himself (via written communication, of course. She kept every monogram he sent to her) but today she had to admit, she was quite content to listen and obey.
"Very well, Party Girl. Once we get through this, I'll test your theory - my treat, of course - although I doubt I'll win. But first, to business. As far as I am aware, there are two men still active in This Compound: The Arms Dealer and The Old Merchant, they're located in..."
Guide: Oh, and this is The Slayer, he doesn't talk much but he's pretty friendly. (hey, buddy - turn around and say hi)
Party Girl: Nice to meet you
Slayer: Guide... have you decided to make me a sibling?
G: *chokes*
PG: Excuse me, what!?
Nurse:*cackling in the background*
Party Girl is simping hard. But then again, who doesn't love The Guide? I legit wasn't gonna pair these two. you think it's gonna turn out well? lmao. I'm not gonna tell you. I few more sections before I can get T back. FYI, I'm sorry that my characters have so many names. I hope you don't get confused.
much love.
Also, if you are part of the Shitpost Discord (formerly, Calamity Manga Discord) and you see art labeled "Mr. Resting Bitch Face, Mr. BitchFace or MRBF - that's actually The Slayer lmao. He got the flat-eye stare. The person talking to him in all of those comics is The Guide.