The bag in Pasco’s right hand was a technological marvel. The aramid and carbon fibers were woven together in a specific pattern pattern to resist dimensional interference. The lining specifically constructed to act as a faraday cage, cutting any electromagnetic signals from passing through the fabric. The band around the opening required both a pass code as well as a blood offering that doubled as a bio-signature.
It cost more than Pasco earned in a year,
And on the bag, in the actually multi-universally permanent, permanent marker, someone had written ‘snek’.
Pasco did his best to keep his face straight as he held out the bag to the current shift lead.
Andrews sighed and took it. “Where was it this time?”
Falling into an lazy sort of parade rest, Pasco answered “Watching the phase mice again, ma’am. It was just hiding in the infrared spectrum to avoid detection.”
“It doesn’t have eyes, Argall,” Andrews said.
Pasco had to work not to roll his eyes at that. What did it matter if it didn’t have eyes? It was also a rubber snake that, by all appearances, moved of its own free will. He swallowed back what he wanted to say and instead gave a little shrug. “Don’t know what to say, ma’am. The phase mice lab is one of the most reliable places to find it.”
She hummed as she set the bag down almost absently down on the desk behind her. (He really hoped that the ‘snek’ got back to its box this time.) “You’ve been sent after this OOO a lot, haven’t you?”
Pasco blinked at the question. “I don’t know if I would say ‘a lot’, ma’am.”
“I would,” she said. “According to the logs, if you’re on shift, you’re who they call, even if you’re not working this section.”
“I’ve been put on the task a few times,” he said, because he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. Yes, he was good at catching UO-M-2863, but he hadn’t really noticed it being a thing like she was implying.
She hummed again and leaned back against the desk. The bag tipped over to hang slightly off the edge. Pascal tried not to wince. “More than a few, which I think means something.”
“Ma’am?”
“Report to HR at the end of your shift, you’re being temporarily transferred.”
Which at least was better than being temporally transferred, Pasco guessed.
---
AN: while I do often write out of order, I decided to at least try to get the start written. I don't know if it actually turned out interesting, like something y'all would read, but! It's got a first draft and that's what matters. masterpost
just tagging this 'snek story' for now. I... should I make a masterpost? masterpost. I'm not sure how much of this y'all are going to get but prob all of the first chapter and then bits? maybe everything I write this month?
Which at least was better than being temporally transferred, Pasco guessed. Still, the order stayed on his mind the rest of his shift, which was dangerous. He might only work in the Non-sentient Object division, but as the ‘snek’ proved, calling these things non-sentient wasn’t always accurate.
He managed to end his shift without being marred, maimed, or… mefuddled. Something with an M. That left him standing in front of a tired looking HR agent.
“No, I’m not here to file complaint,” Pasco answered.
“Injury?”
“No.”
“Possession?”
“I’m here for a transfer,” Pasco said is a rush before the agent could continue down their list. “Anderson from NO Sector sent me.”
“Oh, you’re… what was it…” they search around on their desk for the note. “Argall?”
“Yes sir, Pascal Argall.”
“Right, then I can’t help you.”
Pasco blinked. “What? But Anderson said…”
“Yes, yes,” they said with a dismissive wave of their hand, “but the section head of SC is handling your transfer himself?”
“SC?” Pasco echoed. He was being transferred to Special Containment? Him?
“Yes, that would Section Chief Carrasco over in SC. It’s the forth office to the left as you enter the section, right before the dead end and right turn,” they explained as if that was Pasco’s confusion.
(Which it was helpful information.)
“Right,” Pasco said because he didn’t know what else to say and the poor HR worker didn’t need to deal with his freakout. “Thank you. I’ll head that way.”
“Have a safe rest of your day!”
“Thank you,” Paso said again. And then he found a bathroom to hyperventilate in for a bit.
masterpost please no editing or concrit, that's for another version of this novel!
Luckily, after the anxiety attack was done, the office was right where the HR agent had said. Pasco did his best to keep track of the where of the bureau, but with the closures and secret tunnels, and building just deciding to up and move whole sectors sometimes, it was hard to do. (For example, the cafeteria was four floors higher than it used to me, which everyone but IT was annoyed about).
But Special containment Section Chief Carrasco’s office was right where Pasco had been told.
He just needed to knock and go in.
He’d already cleared it with the assistant.
Who was now watching him him hesitate like a scared child.
Well, fuck it.
Pasco knocked, listened for the soft hum of the door unlocking, and entered the office.
Like most all offices in the bureau, of anyone who was anyone to remember, it was an imposing wood paneled room. There were more bookcases than books, the large, cryptic seal of the bureau, and an wood desk that was big enough to sleep on. All of that faded into the background compared to view that the office had. Instead of the wall to the right being wood, it was full glass panels that looked out over the atrium of the Special Containment division. The purple trees looked so bright from that angle.
“Lovely, isn’t it?”
Pasco spun to face Chief Carrasco with an embarrassed blush that he tried to tamp down. She was a slight woman with large brown eyes and hair the color of dry straw. She would be unassuming if it weren’t for the fact that she was who she was. Pasco wondered how often she had used that to her advantage out in the field. She had been one of the best, after all.
There was a slight whir of servos from her vicinity as she came to stand next to him. “The trees can be very distracting, if you look at them too long. I used to wonder if that was an actual feature of theirs. In the wild—well, in the wild of the reality they’re from—there are these sloth like creatures that live in the trees. They drop from above on unsuspecting prey and sever the spinal cord before slowly pulling it back up into the trees. They devour it over a few weeks. The prey is a live to start.”
“Oh.” Pasco said, because what did you say to that? What did you say when it was said in a way where you know that the person who said it had lived it. He wondered who she had lost on that trip. And then he wondered several more things, one of which slipped past his filters. “A symbiotic relation then? The trees draw the prey in and then, what, are fertilized by the… leftovers and the excrement?”
“I did used to wonder,” she agreed, words almost wistful before she turned sharply. “But no, turns out that people are just fascinated by purple trees, and just about everyone in this place needs to get out and touch some damn grass.”
Pasco did his best to turn his snort of surprised amusement into a cough.
“You can laugh, Argall. If you don’t laugh, you’ll go mad,” Chief Carrasco said. She braced herself on the arms of one of the leather chairs set close to the window before letting herself drop in it. “And take a seat.”
“Yes ma’am,” Pasco mumbled and hurried over to the other chair. There was a small sidetable between them with a half finished four dimensional chess game on it. He tilted his head as one of the black pieces moved. He used to love chess, back when it was just playing it against his grandfather and the other elders in the park.
“I’m pretty sure that I’m playing against future me at the moment,” Chief Carrasco said with a wry smile. “She’s kicking my ass.”
This time, Pasco let the little laugh out. “Well, at least you know you’ll get better.”
“Ha, good way to look at it, Argall. I better hope it is me then and not the next sod to have this office. But I should have years left, even if there’s only about half of me left,” she said and knocked on her left left leg with her gloved left hand. The noise was a decidedly hollow clang.
Pasco sat in the pause until it got awkward enough to make him speak. “Not that, I mean, what I think doesn’t mean much, but I’d think so. Everyone knows about your time as a Trapper. Well, I mean, the non redacted bits, of course.”
“Of course,” she agreed with all the gravity of a person who knew better. Nothing stayed completely redacted for long inside the bureau. “Does all your knowledge give you any idea of why you’re here, Agent Argall?”
“No ma’am,” Pasco said honestly. “Not a clue.”
She hummed and looked back out over the purple trees. “That doesn’t surprise me. Most people’s biggest blind spot is themselves, you know? We like to think that we’re self aware, but we’re really not. It’s easier to lie to ourselves about ourselves than face who we are. Everyone want’s to be clever or good or at least right. But right doesn’t matter as much as being alive, not in the end. Some people never learn that before the end comes. You, though, I think you’ve got good instincts somewhere in there. You just need to stop listening to what you’re trying to tell yourself and listen to what’s actually happening.”
Pasco blinked. That wasn’t what most people said about him. He’d been kicked from the army (he was in it for the scholarship money) to the bureau as fast as they could get rid of him. He’d barely lasted an time in the mail room (not tha the much wanted too). And now it felt like the NO section was happy to get rid of him too…
Or was that just him lying to himself?
He wasn’t always good at seeing the good.
He looked over at the purple trees. “This is about the snek, isn’t it? Er, sorry, ma’am, I mean NO-M-2863.”
Chief Carrasco chuckled. “Yes, Agent Argall, this is about the ‘snek’.”
masterpost please no editing! I'm just sharing some of the first draft for motivation <3 (But if there's somrthing you like or find interesting I'd love to hear.)
Pasco resisted the urge to sigh. How did things always seem to come back to that rubber snake? It’s what had gotten him tossed out of the mail room too. The ‘snek’ had kept showing up in mail tubs and carts and envelopes it shouldn’t have fit in, but most only in things headed to, or at least through, Pasco’s station. Apparently the easiest way of dealing with it was to send Pasco back with the snek to the NO Section.
And now because of the snek he was in SC.
“Not to… disappoint,” Pasco said cautiously, as things had been going well so far, “but I don’t see how a rubber snake get me from Non-sentient Objects all the way to Special Containment. That’s a… very big leap. I haven’t even had any of the training past the basic standardization.”
Holy shit.
He hadn’t even had any of the training.
He was going to be dead in days.
(Maybe that was the point.)
“You haven’t?” Chief Carrasco asked. “I thought NOs got up tp at least Level Fives.”
“Budget cuts. We only go up to Level Three in containment now,” Pasco explained. “Which I think is a mistake given—sorry, ma’am, not my place.”
“Really it should be, you’re the one on the floor,” she said. She stood with a rocking sort of hitch and headed towards her desk. “We’ll get you scheduled. I’d like you up to Seven in containment and Five arms and armaments.”
“I was Six in A and A last tested, ma’am.” At her curious look he shrugged awkwardly. “Three older siblings, fourteen cousins, and ex-army. They had me in sniper training.”
She hummed and made a note in a rather robust looking planner. “What made you leave the army?”
“I was transferred here directly,” Pasco said. He bit the side of his tongue to leave off that he likely would have been discharged for insubordination anyways as soon as he had gotten into any action. Not that he liked either, but there was a difference between civilian casualties and office incompetence.
“Ah. That tracks,” she said, as if it did. “Well, I’ll give you the tour at lest, follow me, Argall.”
Pasco murmured a soft ‘yes ma’am’ before falling in step with her. It was still too easy to fall into the rhythm of someone else’s steps. Pasco didn’t know if he’d ever be rid of the habit or if boot camp had baked it into his soles and, well, soul.
“The first thing to understand about Special Containment, is that it isn’t all about actively dangerous entities. Sure, everything in the sector could kill you, but I could also kill you right now,” Carrasco explained (which Pasco had absolutely no doubt about). “The sector is more about the fact that everything here needs unusual levels of oversight. These types of oversight could be anything from unique means of containment to OOOs who take up too much time from other sectors or, yes, dangerous entities. We try to keep the first two separate from the third.”
Pasco nodded. That made sense. Trained agents had to be expensive to replace.
They had reached the atrium floor now. Pasco took a moment to admire the trees. The shade of purple did look different from down here. It also made the whole light of the space feel slightly… off.
“You get used to it,” Carrasco said, as if reading Pasco’s mind. “Just maybe don’t take your meals here for a bit, the purple makes food look… off.”
“Right, good tip, ma’am,” Pasco said. “We’re sure that those trees don’t lure people in?”
“That’s what the Books and Tubes say.”
Pasco tilted his head a little, glanced from the trees and back to Carrasco. She turned sharply on her heel. Pasco barely had enough time to stop before he ran into her.
“What does your gut say, Argall?” There was something too sharp about her gaze again. Something a little feral in her smile.
It made Pasco be a little more honest than he would normal be to someone above him (which was everyone, really). “I think they’re wrong. I mean, not wrong, maybe, but I think there’s something that they’re missing.”
“They’re the best,” Carrasco argued.
Pasco gave a little shrug. “The bureau's whole mission is dealing with the unknowable. I think it’s… unwise for us to assume that we already know everything to test for. Ma’am.”
Carrasco cracked a grin. “You mean stupid.”
Pasco cleared his throat and hoped that he wasn’t blushing. “Not the word I used, ma’am.”
With a little, hopefully amused snort, Carrasco turned back around and kept walking. “But it’s the word you meant.”
“But not what I said, ma’am.”
“Cutting some fine lines, Agent Argall?”
Pasco steps faulted just for a beat. She was teasing him, he was pretty sure, but she wasn’t wrong. His whole conversation had been cutting fine lines. Because… “That’s what the bureau does, ma’am.”
“That’s an interesting take, Argall,” she said. “You sound a little like a Trapper.”
And didn’t that make Pasco almost lose his rhythm again. Him, a Trapper? “No ma’am, I’m just a center agent through and through. I’ve never even been out on a ground zero.”
“Really? You have been wall bound, aren’t you? That’s interesting. Very interesting.”
I'm back for boyb. Or at least I plan to be. Here's the little pebble's pov.
Pray for me as I type this straight onto the mobile app.
Also Kavott and Lapin's experience with gender does not represent everyone's. The author and characters respect and support all forms of gender expression as they are all unique and awesome.
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Oh Maker.
This is real.
This is really real.
And really happening.
He couldn't believe he actually managed to do it. But here they were in all their glory a demon straight from.... where ever demon's come from, he wasn't really sure. Would it be rude to say they came from hell? Kavott felt like it would, after all he wouldn't want someone to say he was from hell even if it was accurate.
Where ever they came from they are here now in all their tall purple glory. Kavott looked over the demon's shoulder as they wrote with an actual quill that they had to dip in an ink well every few minutes. The fancy paper and pretty glass bottle looked out of place on the cheap card table he had as his kitchen/office desk. The demon as a whole looked out of place in this little studio apartment he had run away to. Not just because of the obvious, ya know, all of them purple skin, demon horns, tail and long ears really would make them stand out. But the clothes, their clothes made them look like they were about to go to a Renaissance fair, or maybe to one of those more intensive medieval larps what with the silk tunic dress thing and the fancy robe on top. There was a nice sheer fabric over their horns too made them look like they were wearing a weird princess hat like the ones in story books.
Maybe the demon would like the Renaissance fair all things considered. When this is over and Kavott is sure the demon is got going to try and destroy the mortal realm or something they should go to the Fair together it could be fun.
"Soooo..... in all this talk of deal making..." That was a lie there had been no talking about making a deal after the first one that freed them from the circle. They had been writing ever since. "I realized I never got your name."
"And you aren't allowed to have it. It was a gift." They spoke not looking up from the paper they were writing on.
"I think Fae are the only ones who can take a name..." Kavott speaks up wings fluttering against his back. After nearly knocking off one of his few worldly possessions from their spot on the old landlord specialed shelf in his excitement he had been trying keep them close. This apartment was small for a normal human not to mention the gargoyle and very tall demon. "Anyways.... you are writing a lot even though you don't know what I want or my name."
"Contract's have a lot the set the stage in the beginning mutual agreements about how we treat eachother and the like, what happens if someone breaks it, what I want.... but please enlighten me on what I don't know." The demon stopped writing and looked over at the Gargoyle arms folded. Wait a minute.. why was the demon looking at him like he did something wrong?
"I.... well...." The heat of embarrassment made Kavott lose his words. Then in the pause as he went over the interaction in his head to try and figure out if he actually did something wrong, a comment he otherwise would had missed raised a flag "What you want?" He looked over at the paper, "There"s like three paragraphs in that section.... how many different..... Don't you just want my soul?" His eyes met the demon's theirs were so different white square pupils in a sea of black, it felt strange look into them to know they were looking back. It was like they didn't register as eyes in Kavott's brain.
The demon's smile grew more off putting it felt strained to Kavott it made the gargoyle want to shrink in on himself, "If your desires need to be paid with by your soul you will have to summon a different demon. I do not make deals using souls." There was something off about his voice that made Kavott looked at the demon as a whole. What was it... they seemed hurt or upset but maybe not? He might be reading the demon wrong. Kavott couldn't help but worry on his lip as he tried to figure out what was happening. The demon seemed to be trying to read Kavott to cause after a moment the being sighed, "Alright..... How about you tell me what you desire and I'll tell you if I can fulfill it, hm?"
Kavott sighed in relief that this social puzzle was over for now. With all the courage he had Kavott spoke his request, "I want to be a man."
The demon looked confused by this request, "Are you not a man? Is this a need to boost your self confidence because you could have paid some mortal to help you with that... Are there no prostitutes anymore? If I recall they are very skilled at making someone feel like a man or however they wish to feel." The words made Kavott's gray cheeks turn pink as he could only stare at the demon. At least he passed.
"What? No I..... Thank you for saying I look like a man but I am not biologically a man. I don't have those parts... I... look I am a gargoyle I don't have the kind of magic that would work for this and you can't get top or bottom surgery when you have stone skin. Not that you need to have surgery to be a man, but I can't in a body like this anymore it feels wrong." He rambled as he kept his wings pressed tight against his back. He never thought he would have to try and explain gender dysphoria to a demon he summoned but here he was.
Somehow despite what Kavott thought was a great explanation the demon still looked confused, "Mortals can't change those parts whenever they want?"
"What, you can?" He shouldn't have snapped he knew that but this was getting too much.
"Yes...?"
Kavott could only blink at that answer and look at the demon shocked before taking a breath, "Okay.... okay... of course you.... fine, cool, whatever." He muttered running fingers through his black curls and making them more of a mess.
"Let's try this again, My name is Kavott, I summoned you here cause I need you to use magic give me body parts commonly associated with males."
"And remove the female ones, I assume."
"Yes and remove those, can you do that?"
"That should be easy enough, we would have to talk about desired features as I am not familiar with gargoyle anatomy." The demon explained
"Amazing, now what is your name? I am not not taking to you about that without knowing your name." Kavott said with what felt like the last of his strength for this conversation.
"You may call me Lapin."
"Your name is Bunny?" Kavott nearly yelled as he found a bit of his energy back.
Inspired by @clockwayswrites boyb month and us being birthday neighbors I have written a thing that has been stuck in my head for a while now. Will I write more... who knows?
Anyways here you all go enjoy a snippet of my little world.
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As the fates would have it, they didn't miss all the lights and smoke show that came with a summoning. It was rather headache enducing to be caught up inside of after getting pulled out of the realms. The flashes of purples and blues as smoke billowed from the circles was a bit much even for Lapin. It was almost as annoying as the feeling of duct tape being ripped off their skin as they are pulled across space in an instant inorder to appear in said smoke and light show. The demon wonders if the the summoners enjoy the little show, someone better for all this effort. Their shoes hit the floor with a satisfying click as the lights went back to normal and the smoke dissipated. Their tail swished back and forth like an angry cat’s as eyes surveyed the room before the white pupils landed on the person who summoned the demon.
A Gargoyle, how interesting. Their kind forbade the summoning of demons. Something about.... what the infernal kind had to offer came at too much of a cost if Lapin remembered right. Seems like this young one thought otherwise. Lapin could not help but to smile, it, they loved rule breakers after all they had to break a fair bit of rules to get here themselves. Now they just needed to find a way to communicate. The little gargoyle was saying something but it made no sense to the demon. Mortal languages seemed to constantly be changing but what else was new. Short lives but goodness did they like to rearrange as much of their world as they could with them.
The ancient magic slipped out of their mouth with ease and finally the gargoyle started to make sense.
"..... can't understand me, can you?" Worry was clear on the stone protector's face.
"Well not before now, this realm can't seem to pick a language can it?" Lapin smiled in a way that seemed too friendly and welcoming their tail still moving back and forth against the edge of the summoning circle behind them calculating, testing. "Greetings mortal."
The relief on the gargoyles face was instantaneous, "Oh! Thank the maker, I had no idea how to fix this if you didn't understand me. I almost sent you back."
The way Lapin's tail stopped moving seemed to go unnoticed as the Gargoyle paced around the room muttering about spells and things he was going to try, hands moving wildly, and wings almost knocking things off shelves as he spoke.
"Hn... Solving problems is just one of my many talents. If you would like you can invite me out of the circle and I can show you a few more." Lapin's smile had a clear goal behind it like a car sales men, friendly but with a motive.
The smaller being paused at the demon's words wings folded in and hands clasped together. "Oh.... uh... I actually just need you for a... well I suppose its solving a problem... I would like to make a deal... with you, shouldn't you stay in the circle for that?"
The tail started flicking but the smile remained. "I really do my best work outside of summoning circles. How about a first deal, I promise to stay with you and draft a deal if you promise to let me out of the circle to draft it?" A thin clawed hand extended out to the edge of the circle the millimeters between them and safety felt like miles to the demon.
The Gargoyle seemed to ponder this offer before reaching out and shaking the demon's hand.
The circle disappeared with much less fanfare than the summoning. A pop and it was gone and Lapin could only smile at the feeling of freedom in the air. "Now.... let's draft your deal, little pebble." Hands parted as quil and parchment was summoned to Lapin's hand. Excitment dance up and down the demon's spine, after all drafting the contract was their favorite part.
