(no subject)
A swipe of the card and nod later, she was beeped in.
Her wide eyes took in every little movement and detail of her surroundings. The shining metal walls and huge windows were a startling contrast with her red kimono-type outfit and small figure. Halls stretched, faraway all around her. Instinct told her to stay close to a wall, but she forced herself on a straight path. Step right. Left. Right. She tried to hold her head high, but realization forced it down. She couldn’t hold her head up here. Not here.
She spotted one soon enough. She breathed deeply, not sure why the rush of adrenaline was there again. Business as usual, she told herself. She nearly tripped over the long robes.
She had only to hand him a small slip of paper. He read and nodded.
“So… you here for Case, huh?”
She nodded, trying not to wonder if the technician would be available.
“Huh. Didn’t picture him the kinda guy to go for tarts.” He shrugged. “He’s in the tech booth. You been before?”
She didn’t dare meet his gaze. “I’m… new.”
His eyebrow raised. “Cherry intact and everything.” He whistled. “O-kay then. Four halls down, one to the right, and in the door to your left. Just knock.”
She nodded, scurrying past him. The urge to look back was overwhelming. She counted how many seconds it took to breathe. One, two… she was practically hyperventilating, her chest still and soundless. Rush after rush filled her. Why the panic? She bit her lip then turned right.
The door was obvious enough; it was covered with multiple cords that writhed when she knocked. She tried to breathe, slipping a graceful, shaking hand around her waist and into her belt.
At last, a man with hands full of wires and handheld gadgets and USB drive bracelets appeared in the crack of the door. He absent-mindedly nodded for her to come inside. She blinked, then quickly followed him as the door closed.
Inside she saw that the room was cramped with all sorts of technological stuff that she didn’t know the purpose for. It was also filled with video camera screens and one-way windows.
Perfect. The privacy was all she could have hoped for.
When Case turned back, he gave her a strange look. “I… didn’t send for a prostitute, did-”
He was suddenly given what would have been a wonderful view; that is, if she hadn’t been wearing the black pants under her lovely skirt.
Then he fell into blackness, crumpling to the ground with a shoe mark across his face.
She nodded slowly, throwing back the itchy hairpiece and allowing her ears to rest from their confinement. She reached behind her temple and felt a metallic click.
“Hey, Silver? This is Cream. I’m in.”
---
A veil of light poured through the windows of her room, thick like gauzy white cloth through the smoky air. The smell of incense choked the open feel granted by the sparsely decorated walls. The window itself took up one entire side of the room, looking out at the still city and the sick, cloudy bay. Her bed was propped near the window, precarious if not for the sheer thickness of the glass. The bed was bare. Layers of blankets lay abandoned on the floor, wrapped and twisted at odd angles, disheveled from a sleepless night.
She pressed herself into tight boots, taking care to tuck in her pants into it. She concentrated hard, though no reason existed for her to do so. This was a normal routine, every morning, every day of every year as far back as she thought mattered. Bra, shirt, pants, then boots. And the last part was always the hardest.
She looked to the covers, still warm despite being forsaken and forgotten hours ago. She wondered how they retained heat so easily, and why the heat wasn’t lost to a cold morning with sunlight that didn’t quite warm up the earth. She suddenly felt like hurtling her boot at the door; she quickly bit her lip and sunk the tension beneath a numb and empty stomach.
Someone had to remain sane around here.
After several moments, she picked herself up and stepped to the door, exiting quickly and making a series of memorized turns. She opened a door without pause, slowing only when she stepped inside.
“Sir?”
Something stirred in the depths of the dark. “R… Rouge?”
She took the tiniest step forward. “Sir? How bad is it?”
A ghost of a whimper touched her sensitive ears. “Not… not too bad.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be fine in a couple of minutes. Just had a dream. Thank you.”
The bat’s ears flattened a bit. “Of course… Feel better, sir. Meet me outside when you are ready to attend business.”
She slowly closed the door behind her as she exited; it was hard for her to believe her own words. ‘Feel better’. Over a decade now with things going from bad to better to worse, she had only a couple small signs that there was such a thing as ‘feeling better’.
As if suddenly reminded, she removed a small cell phone-type device from her pocket. She typed into the screen:
MARX:
ORDER ANOTHER COUPLE BOX-
ES OF INCENSE, WILL YOU?
Even as the words formed across the screen, she heard movement in the back room. Pulling himself up from his stupor, stumbling over a flat carpet and cursing every non-existent thing on the edges of his vision. She forced her ears to remain calmly forward.
She only turned her head when she finally heard the door close behind her; as she looked, she swiftly tucked the handheld into her pocket.
The young man stared coldly, dark circles under his ice-blue eyes. A thin line of anxiety crossed his brow, mirroring his thin lips. Trails of white fur draped alongside his jaw, grown long and silky with the years. He coughed softly, running a shaking hand through his deep ochre bangs. His stony gaze faltered for a flicker of a moment.
“…Rouge.”
She nodded, standing a little straighter. “Miles, sir. Business as usual, breakfast in the dining hall and your first meeting at ten.”
He nodded, his gaze hardly budging, and she knew he was looking elsewhere.
“I… don’t think I’ll be eating today. I’m gonna… go…”
Her brow fell, shading aqua eyes. “Miles…?”
He shook his head, shouldering past her. His twin tails flicked in discontent. “Not hungry, Rouge. I need to go. I’ll be out soon. Just… not hungry…”
She watched him as he waked away, strides uneven and back rounded as if to protect himself. He glanced at the door he was entering and shivered, hurriedly looking away. Images were banished as quickly as they appeared in her mind’s eye. When she looked back up, he was stepping through the door, hesitant as if suddenly remembering something. He slowly looked to her.
“Th-the paint in chipping on the side of the door. We need to… fix that.” he slowly nodded, disappearing and closing the door almost soundlessly behind him.
She brought a hand to her cheek, ready to catch any water before it fell out of the eyes. Only when she was sure that it would not come did she get back to her daily schedule.
Gah. Not sure if it qualifies as done but... whatev. I'm beat. x.x