When things go from bad to unbearable at her job. Penny decides to test out a myth to seek help from a certain feathery building climbing cryptid.
By the time the fifth "urgent" document hit Penny's desk, she stopped sorting them and started stacking them. Not organizing. Just stacking. There was a difference.
Organizing implied a system, a plan, some illusion of control. Stacking was just survival.
The folders leaned dangerously to the left, a paper monument to problems that all seemed to circle the same black hole; something was wrong, everyone knew it was wrong, and Guy refused to acknowledge that it was wrong.
Even when he did acknowledge it, he'd never fully engaged. Just; "I see it." "Noted." "Give me a minute." And then something else would pull him away before it could land.
Penny flipped through another report, eyes scanning faster than she could process, pen already moving before she consciously decided to write.
Supplier complaints, shipment inconsistencies, a bizarre increase in missing inventory reports, some specifically small, oddly shaped items. None of it was catastrophic individually but collectively?
It was a disaster already in the making.
Maybe, if she pushed hard enough, perhaps she could brute force a solution.
Time passed and she didn't even notice how long she'd been at it until her wrist started to ache.
The clock said late afternoon.
That didn't feel right. It should've been earlier. It was always earlier until it wasn't.
Another folder. Another problem. Same source.
Penny exhaled through her nose, stood up, and gathered a portion of the stack into her arms.
Not all of it, of course, but enough to make a dent.
The weight shifted awkwardly as she adjusted her grip, papers threatening to slip out from the sides as she stepped out into the hallway, thoughts already running through on how she was going to present this to Guy in a way that would force him to care. Concise and direct, leaving no room for dismissal.
She turned the corner.. and paused.
The sales department was- loud?
Not work loud. Not phones ringing, keyboards clacking loud. This was different. Laughter. Actual laughter.
Penny stood there for a second, the stack in her arms dipping slightly as her attention shifted, her brain taking a moment to process the unfamiliar sound like it had encountered a foreign place devoid of stress where it was supposed to be most prominent.
She stepped closer, just enough to see over the cubicle walls.
Steve stood in the center of it all, holding a cup like it meant something, surrounded by a small cluster of employees who looked far too relaxed for people who were supposed to be working.
Someone clapped him on the back. Another raised their drink. Penny caught a few words; "promotion," "head of sales," "about time"
Oh- office politics. That tracks.
"I'm telling you, it's real!" Steve was saying, voice lowered just enough to sound conspiratorial while still being very much audible.
"You go up there, right? The rooftop, late at night. Bring stuff. Doesn't even have to be good stuff, just- stuff. And, like, suction things. Plungers worked for me."
"I'm serious!" Steve insisted, gesturing with his cup. "You leave it there, you wait, and then you hear it. This-" he made a wet, sticking noise with his mouth, exaggerated and unpleasant.
"like something peeling off and sticking to glass. And then it's just- there. Big wings, glowing eyes, whole thing. I thought it was Mothman at first, I swear to pie."
"Mothman? Isn't he just a myth?" someone muttered.
"You don't know that," another shot back.
Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice further. "I don't think it was Mothman, mostly because it was all bird like- Anyways, I asked for the promotion. Next day? BOOM! Head of sales."
"So you bribed a cryptid with plungers?" someone said flatly.
Penny shifted the stack in her arms, the papers slipping just enough to make her step in before she could stop herself.
"Okay, hold on- what?" she asked, not even trying to hide the confusion in her voice. A few of them glanced at her, Steve straightening a little like he'd been caught mid story. Which he most definitely was.
"It's not- like- bribing," he said, already backtracking slightly. "It's more like.. an offering."
"An offering," Penny repeated, adjusting her grip on the folders as one nearly slid out. "To what exactly?"
"The thing on the roof," someone else chimed in. "You leave stuff, it shows up, you ask for something, and then BOOM. Worked for him."
Penny looked between them, searching for even a hint that this was a joke that had gone on too long. "And you all just.. believe that."
There was a pause and shared shrugs.
Someone said, "I mean… he did get promoted."
Penny exhaled softly through her nose, not quite annoyed, not quite convinced, just.. tired. "Right," she said, shifting the stack back into place.
"Sure. Of course." She lingered for half a second longer like she wanted to say something else, then thought better of it and moved on.
Office myth. That was all it was. Every workplace had one. Something to explain the unexplainable, something to laugh about when things didn't make sense and conversations were dry.
She told herself that again later when another report came in, and again when a requisition flagged missing items that had no business going missing, and again when she stood in Guy's office doorway trying to explain why any of this needed to be addressed, only to be dismissed with a distracted "handle it."
Days passed like that. Work piling. Problems multiplying. Conversations drifting back to the same story. Someone else claimed it worked. Someone mentioned the smudges on the windows. The missing food from the breakroom. The suspiciously large pigeon feathers stuck to the ceiling.
Penny ignored it all, of course. She didn't really have time for that kind of nonsense. Or any kind of time for that matter.
But the thought lodged itself somewhere inconvenient.
And by the time she found herself still sitting at her desk long after most of the building had emptied, the quiet pressing in around her, it had grown teeth.
The overhead lights buzzed faintly. Somewhere in the distance, a door shut. A night guard's footsteps echoed and faded. Penny stared at the stack in front of her, pen hovering over a document she hadn't actually read.
She rubbed her eyes, blinking away the burn, gaze drifting toward the windows, then higher, toward the rooftop.
Her pen tapped once against the paper.
"This is stupid," she muttered, already standing. A pause. "..This is really stupid."
The decision wasn't dramatic. It didn't feel important. If anything, it felt like relenting on a thought that refused to go away.
Penny stood, stretching slightly, and began gathering things.
Not carefully. Not with intent. Just.. things. A broken pen. A paperweight. A small box of discarded office trinkets that had been sitting in her drawer for months.
She hesitated for a moment before reaching over and pulling a couple of plush toys off one of the shelves in the breakroom, popping the small suction hooks off their backs with a quiet snap before adding them.
She paused, looking down at the box in her hands.
The rooftop door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, the night air hitting her immediately; cool, sharp, carrying the distant hum of the city below.
The sky was clear, the moon bright enough to cast long shadows across the concrete. Penny stepped out, the door closing behind her with a soft click that sounded louder than it should have.
She walked a few steps out, then stopped.
She looked down at the box. Back at the empty rooftop. Up at the sky.
There wasn't exactly an instruction manual for this.
"…Do I say something?" she tried, half hearted. "Hello? Creature?"
Penny exhaled, kneeling slightly to set the box down. The items inside shifted softly as it touched the ground. She straightened, brushing her hands off against her cardigan, and waited.
Time stretched in that quiet, the kind that made every small sound feel amplified; the distant traffic, the faint rustle of wind, the soft hum of the building itself.
Penny crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. Checked her phone. Looked out over the city. Looked back at the box. Rinse and repeat.
The minutes turned into something longer. Long enough for doubt to settle in properly, to replace that small, irritating curiosity with something closer to embarrassment.
"..Yeah," she said quietly, more to herself than anything else. "That tracks."
She stepped forward to grab the box when something cold hit the back of her hand. She paused, glancing up just as another drop followed, then another, and within seconds the sky gave out completely, rain coming down hard and sudden like it had been waiting for her to let her guard down.
She looked at it for a second longer, rain dripping from her hair, then shook her head.
It's not like there was anything of value in it.
Turning on her heel, she hurried back to the door, slipping inside and pushing it shut behind her.
The elevator down felt warmer by comparison, the sudden quiet almost jarring after the downpour.
Water dripped steadily from her sleeves, leaving a faint trail as she walked back toward her desk.
Her shoes squeaked slightly with each step.
By the time she reached her desk, she was already mentally shifting gears.
Go home. Change. Sleep. Deal with everything tomorrow. Future Penny could handle it. Present Penny was done. At least, for the day.
She reached for her bag when the lights cut out without warning, the entire floor dropping into darkness in an instant.
Penny stilled, hand hovering mid motion, then exhaled quietly through her nose. "…Of course."
For a moment, there was nothing but darkness and the faint, distant sound of the storm outside. Then the emergency lighting flickered weakly to life, casting everything in a dim, uneven glow.
Penny sighed, rubbing her temple. "Another problem to add to the list."
Then she heard it; a faint, wet stick somewhere near the windows.
She stilled. Another followed, slightly louder this time, closer, the sound distinct enough now to make her stomach drop as it repeated in an uneven rhythm, something peeling and pressing against glass just out of sight.
Penny's gaze lifted slowly toward the windows. The moonlight that managed to seep through the storm and had been slightly spilling in was gone, replaced by a massive shadow pressed against the glass, its shape uneven, shifting slightly as if adjusting its grip.
Then four eyes opened at once, glowing faintly through the darkness.
Penny's breath caught, her body moving before her mind did as she stumbled back, heel catching on the edge of her chair as she went down hard onto the floor.
The impact barely registered as her eyes were locked on the window, wide, unblinking, every worst case scenario flashing through her head in rapid succession.
The shape shifted against the glass and moved closer, and Penny tensed instinctively, bracing for impact but instead of crashing through like she originally thought it would, it reached forward and slid the window open, slow and deliberate, like it had done this a million times before.
The rain and wind rushed in as the shape slipped through, one limb at a time, movements deliberate and controlled.
It pressed itself flat against the ceiling with a series of quiet, rhythmic sticks, clinging there effortlessly.
Penny stared as it moved fully into view, feathers shifting with each motion, a few coming loose and drifting down lazily through the dim light.
It adjusted its grip once, twice, then let go without warning, dropping straight down and hitting the floor with a flat, unpleasant SPLAT.
The creature.. man? pushed itself.. himself? up immediately, brushing off his poncho like that hadn't just happened, and as the lights flickered back on.
Penny blinked up at him from the floor, still frozen where she'd fallen.
He looked down at her and tilted his head slightly. The pigeon mirrored the motion.
"You gonna stay down there or-" he started, then stopped, like he'd just remembered something, and awkwardly stuck a hand out instead.
Penny hesitated for half a second before taking it. His grip was firm but brief, sharp nails just visible at the tips of his fingers as he angled his hand in a way that kept them from digging into her skin, pulling her up in one quick motion before letting go almost immediately after, like physical contact had a strict time limit and that time limit was now.
She steadied herself, smoothing her cardigan out of habit, blinking once more as she finally got a proper look at him.
What stood in front of her was.. not what she expected.
Rather than a tall imposing creature of the night, he was mostly some kind of human pigeon hybrid and not to mention, really short. She had to look down slightly just to make eye contact.
A helmet sat crookedly on his head, a pigeon perched comfortably on top like this was the most natural thing in the world. Wings folded awkwardly at his back, feathers slightly ruffled from the rain. A suction cup gripped casually in his free hand.
Penny blinked once. Twice. Then, before she could stop herself-
"You're shorter than I expected."
"Yeah, well, expectations are bullshit," he shot back immediately, shaking out one wing. The pigeon cooing once as it adjusted its footing.
"What, were you just expecting me to scream 'coo' at you all night? I mean I would but I've got places to be." he glanced around, then back at her. "You the one who left the box?"
"Cool." he nodded once, decisive. "It got wet."
"Yeah." A beat. "Kinda disappointing."
Penny stared at him. The pigeon on his head stared at her.
"..Right," Penny said slowly. "Sorry about that."
"Eh- it's fine, you still did the thing," he began, gesturing vaguely upward, as if that explained anything. "Box. Stuff. Suction things. Whole deal."
"I didn't actually expect it to work and there wasn't a "thing," I just-"
"So what do you want?" he cut in, like the rest of that sentence didn't matter.
Penny blinked again. "..What."
"What's your wish?" he clarified, tone impatient now, wings twitching slightly at his side. "C'mon, I don't have all night."
"I don't- this isn't-" Penny stopped, pressing her fingers briefly to her temple. This was.. happening. This was actually happening. "…I have work problems."
"Yeah, no shit. Everyone does nowadays." he said immediately.
"..There are multiple operational issues that need to be addressed at an executive level that are currently being ignored," Penny said, defaulting automatically, words falling into place out of habit more than anything else.
He and the pigeon stared at her for a moment.
"…So you want me to fix it," he said.
"You heavily implied it."
"I-" Penny stopped. "..Sure."
"Alright." he nodded once, satisfied. "Got it." And that was it, no ritual, no buildup, no sign that anything had actually happened.
He simply turned, walked toward the still open window like this was the most normal exit available to him, and without another word stepped up and jumped.
She stood there, still dripping, staring at the empty space he'd left behind, the rain still blowing in through the open window and pooling slowly beneath her shoes.
"..What just happened," she said, softer this time, like saying it that way might make it make more sense.
When she got home, dried off, and sat in the silence of her own apartment, the whole thing had already started slipping at the edges, logic forcing its way back in piece by piece until it settled into something easier to accept; exhaustion, stress, a long day finally catching up to her.
By morning, it felt distant, unreal, like something half remembered from a fever dream, and she walked into the office expecting nothing to have changed.
The sales department was on fire with activity. Not literally, Not figuratively, Not even panic but instead.. efficiency. Meetings were ending early. Reports were being completed correctly the first time.
It was like someone had reorganized the entire supply chain system overnight using what appeared to be duct tape logic and toilet paper rolls.
Phones were ringing. People were moving fast and energized in a way she hadn't seen in days. Conversations overlapped, numbers being thrown around, confirmations being made.
"What happened?" she asked, grabbing the nearest person. Which coincidentally happened to be Steve.
"We landed Finland!" Steve said, grinning. "We're now the exclusive supplier! It's a huge deal, and to think it came out of nowhere!"
Another voice chimed in from somewhere behind her. "Also the procurement issues? Gone! Supplier dispute got resolved overnight. No idea how, but hey, I'm not complaining!"
"And the missing inventory reports got cleared!" someone else added. "Turns out it was- uh.. misfiled or something?"
She turned slightly, something tugging at her attention, and glanced back at her desk.
In its place sat neat, evenly aligned folders, arranged with a level of precision that felt almost aggressive.
No leaning. No overflow. No chaos.
Penny stepped closer, slower this time, like moving too fast might undo it.
A few sticky notes clung to the top folders, bright, out of place against the otherwise pristine arrangement.
"u owe me extra for this"
Penny stared at them for a second.
I tried to put this out as soon as I could, mostly because both the one-shots were already finished beforehand and just lacked the covers but also to serve as a little surprise double post whammy for the people who still read these *AHEM* YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. *AHEM*
Unfortunately, this is the last one-shot I've written and planned for the month so don't expect anymore coming out anytime soon :[[
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