Arsenic and Old Lace @dear-ms-bathory - Tumblr Blog

Ah, Ms. Bathory. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person.

Miss Perreault. I am sure the pleasure is all mine.

*She clasps her hands and kisses her briefly on the cheek. It’s all very formal and British.*

*Eve gives her a small peck in return and smiles.*

I do hope you are enjoying your relocation thus far. I understand that it was rather… sudden, but we’ve made plenty of accommodations to make the move as comfortable as possible.

Ah- I apologise. All of this talk and I haven’t even offered you a drink.

dear-ms-bathory

Ah yes, but when is it ever not?

*She gives the other woman a thin smile.*

It has all been as well as to be expected. I always did prefer France to the States. Particularly the desert bases, practically uninhabitable.

*Another smile, and a nod of the head.*

Tea, if you have it, would be lovely.

#WOW i missed this I'm terrible

Ah, Ms. Bathory. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person.

Miss Perreault. I am sure the pleasure is all mine.

*She clasps her hands and kisses her briefly on the cheek. It's all very formal and British.*

dear-ms-bathory

*Someone's been smearing bubble gum all over every camera lens he could find, and a certain idiot with a fez is responsible.*

*As it is, more or less, impossible to get gum onto the lenses of most of those cameras without being seen by the lens first (and not all of them are visible anyway), Ms Bathory knows exactly which idiot with a fez is responsible. She frowns and reaches for the intercom mike.*

Attention mercenaries. As I previously assumed you were all aware, tampering with security equipment will not be tolerated. I’d suggest that the one currently defacing my cameras with gum like a child promptly cease and desist, unless he wants to spend the foreseeable future in a desert hotbox Dimitri Kaczorowski.

offtovisityourmother-blog

*He stops to listen at the announcement as he is about to deface his umpteenth camera, rolls his eyes theatrically and plops the pre-chewed gum back in his mouth.

Then he flips the bird at the camera.

And then he starts to use the reflection of the lens as a makeshift mirror to groom his hair.

And pick his nose.

And pops a lonely zit on his jaw.

And picks at his teeth to take off bits of his previous lunch.

Then he simply rotates the camera so it’s filming the ceiling and not the hallway.*

dear-ms-bathory

*She turns off the intercom with a click, pulls out a certain Spy's file, and begins writing in it.*

*Someone's been smearing bubble gum all over every camera lens he could find, and a certain idiot with a fez is responsible.*

*As it is, more or less, impossible to get gum onto the lenses of most of those cameras without being seen by the lens first (and not all of them are visible anyway), Ms Bathory knows exactly which idiot with a fez is responsible. She frowns and reaches for the intercom mike.*

Attention mercenaries. As I previously assumed you were all aware, tampering with security equipment will not be tolerated. I'd suggest that the one currently defacing my cameras with gum like a child promptly cease and desist, unless he wants to spend the foreseeable future in a desert hotbox Dimitri Kaczorowski.

dear-ms-bathory

*The Administrator watches him approach, slight amusement the only change in her cheery expression.*

I’d avoid making assumptions about the capabilities of my surveillance network, Mr McMurphy. But I find it does pay to be thorough.

*She taps her fingers on the folder, before opening it up and flipping through the papers inside.*

Thank you. Pardon me for presuming, but I do believe there is something weighing on your mind.

goldencityespionage

Well why else make me go through all this trouble? -Randy asks, intentionally ignorantly- It’s not like you’re the kind of person to want somebody to suffer for no good reason.

-Being passive aggressive is not really making any progress or doing Randy any favors, but it’s still temptingly cathartic. And he’s never said he’s not above petty responses… a small voice in the back of his mind does remind him, though, that like it or not she wields power over his condition and she’s probably not above making it worse than it already is.

But the Spy has far too much pride to listen, because it’s one thing to follow orders and another to do so silently. He bites the inside of his cheek and cracks his fists at her question-

Yeah well having to find somebody you love dearly in the middle of the desert because somebody took it upon herself to dump him out there will do that.

-Randy suddenly throws his arms up and seethes at her-

What the hell was he doing out there!? Because he lost one fight, when we ALL get killed every DAY?

dear-ms-bathory

*Ms bathory doesn't appear all that shocked at Randy's outburst. She closes the folder he'd brought her and clasps her hands over it, leaning forward a bit.*

You appear to know Donald Xiao quite well. Then you will know that when I say he is a shiftless, unmotivated young man, it is not a smear on his character but a simple statement of fact. His lack of motivation is what brought him here. He does not care about his position, his future, he allows himself to be buffeted along by the winds of fate. He lost that fight because he did not want to win.

*Her tone is not unkind, but she speaks like she's telling something really very simple to someone who is still too stupid to get it.*

Well, one cannot go through life like that, can they? It was decided that young Mr Xiao needed something to motivate him, and few things are more motivating than basic survival.

*Still quite calm, she smiles across her desk at Randy.*

The desert was a test. And he passed. You must be very proud.

dear-ms-bathory

*The Administrator is, of course, watching him on camera, and sees every detail of his trip and near fall. It is just as awesome as he expects. Ms Bathory sighs internally.

This is one of her so called espionage experts.

Nothing for it at this point, though. Replacing him would be such a lot of tedious paperwork. Arranging her files, Ms Bathory waits for Randall’s knock.*

Yes, Mr McMurphy, it’s open, do come in!

goldencityespionage

-He hates how she answers so promptly and cheerfully, her voice having a sickening sing-song quality to it reminiscent of the most shrewdly evil fairy tale characters. With strep throat. Whether or not that’s true is irrelevant, it makes him feel better about being here.

Though he’s more so just thinking ‘what a fucking bitch’ on loop than anything else. That also makes him feel better. With thick reluctance the Spy pushes the door open and steps inside, not bothering to wipe his feet as he strolls through her office. Holding his folder up unceremoniously as he makes eye contact with her-

I do so hope I’m not interrupting anything. I’m sure you’re a very busy, popular woman.

-He drops it on her desk-

There. What your cameras couldn’t catch evidently.

dear-ms-bathory

*The Administrator watches him approach, slight amusement the only change in her cheery expression.*

I'd avoid making assumptions about the capabilities of my surveillance network, Mr McMurphy. But I find it does pay to be thorough.

*She taps her fingers on the folder, before opening it up and flipping through the papers inside.*

Thank you. Pardon me for presuming, but I do believe there is something weighing on your mind.

#ZIP YOUR HOWLING SCREAMER #Imagine this voice yelling at you over the loudspeaker for not killing enough people #voiceclaim

goldencityespionage

dear-ms-bathory replied to your post:*Ring ring!*

Mr. McMurphy.

…. Mrs. Bathory.

What a pleasant surprise. I was just thinking about you today.

-When he was cleaning Featherbottom’s cage He’d had a suspicion he’d be hearing from her soon, but for obvious reasons the thought had escaped his frame of mind. Frowning, he glances at Featherbottom, who seems more content with nibbling his ear-

To what do I owe the pleasure of your gracious, most intoxicating voice?

dear-ms-bathory

I do so hope I am not interrupting anything.

*Her tone suggests that she doesn’t really give a shit.*

Your presence is requested in my office at your earliest convenience. I expect you will be prepared to provide what we discussed.

*And she hangs up.*

goldencityespionage

-Randy doesn’t need to register her tone to already know she couldn’t care less whether she’s interrupting him or not, and so he doesn’t even bothering answering her benign question. He just sits there tensely until he hears the line run dead, then immediately drops it on the receiver like it’s made of something radioactive.

About an hour later the Spy is heading toward her office, eyeing the turrets that guard the front cautiously but betting that since she’s expecting him, they’re not going to shoot. He still gives them an awkward, unnecessary wave before speeding up and running to the door, tripping a little on a shoelace and bumping into it. Great, that must have looked AWESOME on camera. At least the papers in his manilla folder didn’t go flying

Grunting he bends down to quickly tie up his dress shoes then knocks on the door-

dear-ms-bathory

*The Administrator is, of course, watching him on camera, and sees every detail of his trip and near fall. It is just as awesome as he expects. Ms Bathory sighs internally.

This is one of her so called espionage experts.

Nothing for it at this point, though. Replacing him would be such a lot of tedious paperwork. Arranging her files, Ms Bathory waits for Randall's knock.*

Yes, Mr McMurphy, it's open, do come in!

goldencityespionage

dear-ms-bathory replied to your post:*Ring ring!*

Mr. McMurphy.

…. Mrs. Bathory.

What a pleasant surprise. I was just thinking about you today.

-When he was cleaning Featherbottom’s cage He’d had a suspicion he’d be hearing from her soon, but for obvious reasons the thought had escaped his frame of mind. Frowning, he glances at Featherbottom, who seems more content with nibbling his ear-

To what do I owe the pleasure of your gracious, most intoxicating voice?

dear-ms-bathory

I do so hope I am not interrupting anything.

*Her tone suggests that she doesn't really give a shit.*

Your presence is requested in my office at your earliest convenience. I expect you will be prepared to provide what we discussed.

*And she hangs up.*

dear-ms-bathory

rogueordnance-deactivated201501

dear-ms-bathory

#ic #torture #needles #etc

australianarsonist-archive-blog

|| dear-ms-bathory

dear-ms-bathory

"I’m afraid not." Her words are cloyingly sweet, a parody of sympathy. "My hands are tied, really. The decision has been made that you will be able to serve your teem more effectively as a Soldier."

She slides a sheet of paper across the desk to Sheila. On it, she’ll find her orders to begin training.

"You are expected to begin your training immediately."

australianarsonist-archive-blog

She nearly scoffs at her apparent regret, though she manages to bite her tongue before it lands her in any bigger trouble. It’s what comes next that elicits a response. “Wh- a Soldier?” Well, it could have been worse. They could have decided to make her become a Heavy Weapons Expert; there would have been no chance in her lifting the damned gun.

Sheila rubs her forehead with one hand as the other slides the slip of paper closer towards her, scanning over it quickly. "… W-will I be c-comin’ b-back?"

dear-ms-bathory

There is a momentary lift of an eyebrow, but Ms Bathory simply nods, closing the folder.

"Yes. I believe you will find it less... mentally taxing as your previous classification." Her words have finality, like she's already verbally shooing Shelia out the door. "Well. that remains to be seen, does it not? The Industries can be unpredictable, we must be flexible."

She smiles again.

"Any more questions, Miss O'Kelly?"

#tw #needles #torture #etc

australianarsonist-archive-blog

|| dear-ms-bathory

dear-ms-bathory

"Hmm. Unfortunate." A pen is produced, and she quickly writes something down on one of the forms before looking up again. "Well, one does hope we can look upon this as a fresh start, and face the future with a renewed interest in giving our all."

She steeples her fingers.

"I have asked you here, Miss O’Kelly, to discuss just that. Your future with TFI. It has come down to me from the higher ups that there is a belief you are not quite… suitable for the job you’ve thus far been placed in. There is talk of reassignment."

australianarsonist-archive-blog

Craning her neck slightly in a failed attempt to quickly see what Bathory had scribbled down, Sheila flinches back into her seat when the Admin looks back up at her. “Uh- r-roight. ‘f course.”

The information comes as a shock, and she sits there quietly as she lets it process. Reassignment? Engineering is the only thing she could pull off, anything else would take a bit of time to train for. Or perhaps reassignment meant moving bases - something she was not particularly keen on, due to the relationships she had with a small number of people.

"… I-is there any other o-… Option?" Sheila asks quietly before pressing her lips together in a tight line.

dear-ms-bathory

"I'm afraid not." Her words are cloyingly sweet, a parody of sympathy. "My hands are tied, really. The decision has been made that you will be able to serve your teem more effectively as a Soldier."

She slides a sheet of paper across the desk to Sheila. On it, she'll find her orders to begin training.

"You are expected to begin your training immediately."

#tw #torture #blood #etc

dear-ms-bathory

"Hmm, yes, my apologies." She gives him a look of sympathy, but it’s stiff, like she’s acting in a play. "I should have known. having read your files, after all."

The Administrator lets the words hand in the air for a moment. One blue gloved hand hovers over the tray of needles.

"In short, Mr Gardner, your usefulness to the company has been brought into question by your poor performance during your review. This is not something it pleases the industries to see in our employees." She picks up one of the hypodermic needs and regards it coolly. "So. It has been decided that you shall be made useful.”

rogueordnance-deactivated201501

He tenses—well, he tenses further—at the mention of his files, which is what in the end stops his squirming. So she knows he’s here because he was too much of a nervous wreck after the accident to do his job properly anymore. And if he gets her drift about usefulness right, he still is.

"No—"

However, at the mention of being made useful Mordecai has a passing thought for Riley’s teeth digging into his throat and Dawit—

'Just because someone changed us on the outside doesn't mean we’re not all the same damn species….'

"No—!"

The file probably also mentions that he’s terrified of needles, and as Bathory holds the needle and oh god it’s going to sink in and she’s going to jam him with whatever they used to make Riley and Dawit splices and no no no please don’t miss I’ll do my job better I swear please let me go please no no no I panicked on the field it’ll never happen again please no no no no nononononono NO—

He’s babbling, straining against the straps hard enough to bruise himself.

Please let me out LET ME OUT NO NO NO—!

dear-ms-bathory

#tx #needles #torture

australianarsonist-archive-blog

|| dear-ms-bathory

dear-ms-bathory

The smile on the Administrator’s face is fixed, and she watches passively as the Engineer crosses the room and takes a seat. The pause before she speaks is just long enough to be uncomfortable.

"Yes, I did."

Ms Bathory’s eyes lower to the folder in front of her. Sheila’s file, in fact. Absently, she rifles through the papers inside.

"I trust you are recovered from your… detainment?"

australianarsonist-archive-blog

There’s not much of a response to that question as the Engineer gave a little frown. Having spent the larger half of the previous day curled up on the Respawn floor in tears post-punishment, Sheila decided that there was not much of an answer required. “Not p-particularly. ‘ve uh, h-had worse though.”

That was true enough, though Sheila could have slapped herself for giving that away lest Ms Bathory have something worse in store.

"S-so uh- wh-whot’d you want t-to see me f-for?"

dear-ms-bathory

"Hmm. Unfortunate." A pen is produced, and she quickly writes something down on one of the forms before looking up again. "Well, one does hope we can look upon this as a fresh start, and face the future with a renewed interest in giving our all."

She steeples her fingers.

"I have asked you here, Miss O'Kelly, to discuss just that. Your future with TFI. It has come down to me from the higher ups that there is a belief you are not quite... suitable for the job you've thus far been placed in. There is talk of reassignment."

australianarsonist-archive-blog

|| dear-ms-bathory

dear-ms-bathory

The Administrator is, indeed, anticipating her arrival, and her voice rings out almost before Sheila is done knocking.

“Do come in, Miss O’Kelly.”

Upon entering, the Engineer would find Me Bathory seated at her desk, hands folded over an open folder. Sheila’s folder, in fact. The woman smiles.

“Please, have a seat.”

australianarsonist-archive-blog

It might have been likely that Sheila had hoped Ms Bathory was out of her office, so when Bathory does respond, she winces openly before making her way inside. The room seems darker than it did the last time she was here, more foreboding and utterly creepy than she remembered. Sheila takes her seat, nervously eyeing the woman and the file she has there.

This does not look good.

"G-g’day," She tries to be casual, but her greeting comes off as unsure and skittish. "Y-you uh- w-wanted t’ s-see me?"

dear-ms-bathory

The smile on the Administrator's face is fixed, and she watches passively as the Engineer crosses the room and takes a seat. The pause before she speaks is just long enough to be uncomfortable.

"Yes, I did."

Ms Bathory's eyes lower to the folder in front of her. Sheila's file, in fact. Absently, she rifles through the papers inside.

"I trust you are recovered from your... detainment?"

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