#strexcorpprime

[thestrexfiles]

Okay, so Tech Genius over here took half an hour to plug in an Ethernet cable. Typical of humans. Lock them in a warehouse for a week with no food and they start getting really awkward and shaky. How embarrassing for them.

Anyway, we’re not going to branch out too far, but we should probably see what’s left of our company. Given that apparently our main servers are down and our network of alliances is all but eviscerated.

[themathisoncollective]

Jim? Jim, I don't care how much you hate me, just please tell me you're okay. -Sara

I am terribly sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news, but if you are inquiring after my father, Jim Mathison, then I must inform you that he is deceased.

My name is Yevgeniy Yakovlevich. Who are you and how did you know my father?

[themathisoncollective]

dear ex-best friend

Dear Sara,

You are a fucking traitorous, backstabbing bastard and I hope everything you've worked for crumbles around you. It'd be no less than you deserve.

I thought you were better than all of them. That you had what it took to make things different.

I thought you'd be there for me forever.

And despite that, despite all the heartache and grief and anger. . . I still miss you.

I still fucking miss you and I hate myself for it.

Hope you step on a goddamn lego every day for the rest of your pathetic, meaningless life,

Jim

[newstrexintern]

Plant in a Jar

Maneuvered by the minds of ten thousand dead, Rosemary Holst walked up to Sara Hamilton's office door and knocked three times.

This is it. They should have been nervous, but they were not. Instead, a sort of dramatic euphoria filled them from head to toe and beyond into whatever else they were. They didn't try to understand it.

We don't need to kill her. They hated her, hated her so much, but this wasn't a death mission. If they had to kill her, they would, but... We just need to get her out of the way so we can dismantle this company.

But how? They were always in conflict with themselves. They'd have to see. It would all become clear. It had to.

[dark-owl-lucy]

[strexcorpprime--because why not?] ☼

... disconcertingly driven, but she seems... alright enough...

hey, this is an aggregate Lucy, the one who's aware of the whole multiverse and plotting things that go on? I have to say, there are not many people who make me mad, but you, Sara Pauline Hamilton, you have done it.

yeah, sure, I get you're ambitious, but how dare you toss Jim aside like that. and for what, so he wouldn't take up your precious time while you file your teeth sharper? so that he couldn't have the chance to tell you to your face what a slatteritching coward you are? or that any endgame in which your friends mean nothing isn't worth it?

do you have any idea how much you mean to him? not 'meant', 'mean'. do you have any idea how screwed up it is that you have to tell somebody not to trust your best friend because she will eat you alive?

how zarking dare you.

[themathisoncollective]

Don't chase the rabbit

"Thank you for calling the Help Line. This is Jim. How can I assist you?"

"Hi, Jim, it's Sara P. Hamilton, up in PR. Remember me? I'm having some trouble hooking the department camcorder up to my computer."

Fucking hell. He had to make an office visit. For the bimbo who couldn't figure out how to reset her email password last week. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing, but for some fucking reason she'd asked for him specifically.

He spent a few minutes trying to think of an excuse that'd get him out of helping her before giving up and heading for the elevator. It was no use. He might as well get it over with.

He didn't bother knocking; there wasn't any point. She'd just been on the phone with him so she wasn't meeting with anyone, and she was expecting him.

She was sitting at her desk smiling that empty, corporately-mandated smile when he walked in. Just a tiny white chick with nothing going on upstairs, like nearly every other moron in this place. It put him in a bad mood.

"Alright, where's this camera you're too stupid to work?" he asked.

Her smile never wavered. Corporate brainwashing at it's best, that.

"Right here!" she said enthusiastically. She stood up and gestured to the camera, which was sitting on her desk hooked up to the computer. But then she kept talking. "You're Jim, I take it? It's lovely to meet you. I'm Sara." And there was a hand offered for him to shake in greeting.

Yeah. No.

To work then. He had to lift her chair up--good god, she was short--before he examined the camera. "Did you try restarting both devices?" he asked. She probably hadn't. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd failed to turn the damn camera on.

"I did! Several times, in fact, just to be sure!" Okay then. A point for her. She could be trained.

"I also restored factory defaults on the camcorder, re-installed the drivers on the computer and the video program, and spend half an hour going through all the troubleshooting tips in the manual. Nothing worked. I can't get anything to transfer."

As she listed off what she'd done to try to resolve the problem on her own, Jim couldn't help but be impressed. The little lady could learn.

He powered on the camera and poked around at the computer. The problem was immediately apparent: the camera's memory was corrupted. He couldn't fix that here. He could probably sort it himself in a couple of hours, if it was salvageable, but he was on Help Line duty all week and it'd be at least a day before anyone else got around to it.

He could just get her a new camera. A better one, even. He had a feeling she'd take good care of one of the BioLink Cams. "You really did your homework, then," he told her.

"I didn't want to waste any of your time," she replied, still gratingly cheerful. "Any idea what's wrong?"

Well. If she was trying not to waste his time, she definitely deserved a present. The BioLink Cams hadn't really found much use and he had been wanting to see how they held up to regular handling.

"Yeah, this camera's a piece of crap. I'll hook you up with a better one and take this in for repair or recycling."

"Thank you so much! I really appreciate it!"

Now that was new. People didn't usually thank him. Especially not people he'd insulted just a few minutes before. It was. . . weird. And nice? Yeah, definitely nice. That probably meant she was trouble. People weren't nice at Strexcorp when they didn't need to be. It made him just a little bit uncomfortable. He needed to get out of there and think. "Yeah, whatever. Just doing my job." He got up and made a beeline for the door. No sense in sticking around, and he was more than ready to return to the familiarity of his cubicle. "I'll have it sent up within the hour."

"Thank you again! I'll call you if I have any trouble figuring it out," she called as the door swung shut behind him. He felt a twinge of hopeful anticipation at the thought. As he shuffled back to the elevator, broken camcorder in hand, he couldn't help but wonder why.