It had been a long day, for Archer, though it seemed his days were never anything but. It began simply: paperwork. Sweet, monotonous paperwork that eased him into the zone, relaxed him, distracted him from the ridiculous shenanigans of the base. There was only so much the executive could take on a weekly basis, after all–though it seemed like no one really respected the fact. Soon enough, his day has spiraled downward into a swirling vortex of madness, and it has begun with the claim that a team in the science department had set their lab on fire, leading Archer to spend the better part of the day trying to figure which lab had been set ablaze, and when it became apparent no such incident had happened, who had the gall to distract him from his work.
It was nearing ten when he finally gave up and headed back to his office, where it became extremely apparent to him that he’d missed most of his day’s work, and unfortunately, that meant one thing: overtime. Ah, yes, unpaid overtime really was the hallmark of his life, wasn’t it? Sighing, Archer had slouched back into his desk chair and ran one hand over his face, eying his to-do list carefully. None of it he really wanted to do, at the moment, because, and he would be loathe to admit this to anyone ever, effort. But there was still one thing that, as he looked at it, probably wouldn’t grate on his sanity as much as anything else probably could, at the moment, and that was to make his usual rounds of the labs and see who needed attending to. A fully-functioning research department was something Archer took pride, in after all.
Eyes scanning the list, he paused as he came across a name in particular that he couldn’t help but want to place; it was familiar, but only vaguely, remembering it perhaps only in the way that one would remember a long-forgotten book, and without further ado, Archer decided that, yes—this is where he would start. Firing up the base’s intranet messaging system, he drafted a quick message to this “Colress.”
It has come to my attention I have yet to visit your office. I understand you are one of our more recent researchers; I do hope you have been settling in, well, and that the others have not been giving you a hard time; some can be a little unsavory. I don’t suppose I should be expecting any project reports or funding requests from you at any time in the near future?
There was about five minutes between Colress receiving the message, and Colress replying.
The first two minutes, Colress had been pacing and then quickly re-reading the message. He clasped his hands and pressed his index fingers to his chin, folded his arms, tapped his glasses. He had done all manner of ‘thinking poses’ as he mentally dealt with his message. It was from an Executive. The top brass. His boss. And this was a criminal organisation, so he would have to pick his words carefully. Of course it wasn’t some mafioso like Giovanni had built, he hoped, but it was still dangerous.
The next two minutes, Colress sat staring blindly at his screen, trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t put him in the negative. How should he refer to Archer? What should he say? No sir, no money sir, thank you sir.
Don’t leave a Ponyta’s head on my bed please, sir.
For the last minute, Colress typed, a frown on his face and a quiver on his lips.
I didn’t think you would have time to acquaint yourself with the new blood, being that you are probably very busy. I can relate, of course - my work is a definite time sink. Progress has been made and you are welcome to come down anytime and see my machine in action over a cup of coffee. I should have a report due in soon but you need not worry about funding. At this stage, it’s all up to me and my brain.
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