The footsteps of the Sable Lord would echo out onto the factory floor as he stepped free of the elevator, striding forward while holding the second chest containing the remnants of Chuunitrixx’s shattered eggs. Figuring that Socrates’ presence would stir hostility if he just barged in, Rodias figured it would be best to petition a guard for a meeting with the factory director.
Turning his head back towards Socrates while he waited, Rodias would say:
”So, tell me...what’s your game? No, really. You're probably the most impossible to imagine thing ever being birthed from Enderal.”"
Enderall" Socrates says, clearly irked by the mispronunciation. "
As for me, I am but a humble manifestation of a meager facet of the grand complexity of my Lady," he says, "
Like a grandchild, to put in simple terms, seeking to do grandly by his Grandmother, and make his Mother proud of him." Socrates smirked, "
If you hate me, you'll love my brothers."
Rodias would note, he never answered the question; simply spoke around it, and deflected with a masterful, and cheeky, sidenote.
Only a couple moments after the two entered, a well-placed wall fixture slid open to extend a bulbous, membranous organ that wiggled in the intruders’ direction. After a brief period of appraisal it seemed to tense up, and it began to emit a resounding, hair-raising howl. It wasn’t loud, but it carried through the facility, and a handful of seconds later Guards appeared, zeroing in on the alert’s origin point from various directions. They looked agitated, keeping their weapons at the ready but not leveled. The ground started shaking even before the last of the Guards appeared, a
Team Lead. While not that much larger than the average Guard, his armored exoskeleton was far thicker, heavier, and of higher quality. Several articulate tentacles, like those of his boss’s, extended from him, and the unblinking triple-lense he bore instead of a face fixed attentively on Rodias and Socrates.
Doot doot doot doo, doo-doot doot doot!The sound came from the Team Lead, followed by the voice of Graft, coming through an Open Line. “Good day. The alert originated from the service elevator, so I must be speaking to an ally, yet the fact that an alert came at all is interesting. To whom do I own the pleasure?”
“Board...member...recognized,” the Team Lead rumbled. “Unknown...organisms...found.”
“Board member, eh? Welcome to my humble domain, Lord Rodias,” Graft said, his tone a little less clinical and more reverent. “But what unknowns do you bring with you?”
”A mimic. One of Chuunitrixx’s advisors that has come to deliver a message directly to you. I figured it would be best to bring him along while I talk to you, as well,” Rodias would state as he looked at the Team Lead. The Sable Lord seemed nonplussed about something, that much was indicative in his tone of voice.
An audible groan came over the line.
"
Advisor? My dear sir, you do hold me much higher than expected," Socrates smirked, Rodias's mood seemed to please him; as if, he predicted this outcome was to be, and was reveling in the vindication of his own thoughts. "
Socrates, your Lordship, is my name; no relation, of course," he introduced with a tone and how more cordial than anything this displayed, "
If you would be so kind, we've much to discuss of your espionage. I'm sure my Lord is brimming with thoughts, are you not?"
”Definitely no relation.” Rodias muttered.
“So, the saga continues.” Graft sighed, which filtered through the Open Line as a hiss of static. “In your infinite wisdom, Rodias, you know that I have health and safety codes to uphold, so I must wonder why you have allowed vermin to follow you down here. If you like, my Guards can dispose of it for you.” Graft offered, as if discussing a bug. “TL, would either of them happen to have a chest with them?”
The juggernaut nodded. “Yes...sir.”
“Hmph. In that case, allow me to repeat what I said the last time a proxy attempted to foist mimic slush on me. No deal.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if forced to explain obvious things when he had better business to be attending to. “If Chunnitrixx wants to deal with me, she can do so directly, in a forthright and sensible manner, and we can work out the exact terms of any exchanges. I’m not interested in the deficient ravings of the filicidal, especially by proxy.”
”I’ve already tried killing him, Graft. All that does is respawn him back at his home, and leave you with a mess of mimic guts to clean up. Its more efficient to just hear him out, at this point. And, I have business with you beyond this chest of infanticide,” Rodias stated as he looked up at the TL.
A scratching sound came through as Graft thought about how to sort out the misunderstanding. “I don’t care if it’s dead, just that it’s not here. If you don’t let it back in, it won’t be a problem. And it would be the Guards cleaning it up, not me. They’re quite able, I assure you. By the way, you should by no means capitulate to such things. Give a mouse a cookie, and he’ll want milk,” he recited from one of Kath’s books. Already, her wisdom was coming in handy. A moment later he seemed to compose himself. “I would be more than happy to engage with you, but please leave that revolting container behind when you come over. I’ll see that it’s returned to Chunnitrixx. She of all people should know that Salem’s Chapter is the place to dump refuse, not here.”
Socrates tipped on his feet -- heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe -- over and over, like a child waiting from something to end, or a turn to speak. Yet, his face was split clean across its width by a Glasgow Smile; Mimic Panelling and Doppleflesh exposed to reveal his inner nature of an all-consuming beast, and one of heightened intelligence... and yet, the morals of a monster. Rodias didn't have to fear him, yet the human inside knew it was wiser to approach him with a train of conversation suited to his manipulative nature. After all, the Chateau was a large place, and Socrates possessed a Silver Knight on his back.
After a moment, Socrates's face folded back together, and he wiped his lower lip. "
My apologies, I get bored when people start to grandstand. My mind wanders to thoughts, such as, "What do they taste like? and "How would I cook them?" and so on." he apologized, before looking at Rodias, "
My Lord, might I hold that chest, since it bares you no use?"
Rodias looked back at Socrates, wordlessly observing his monstrous nature before he said:
”These eggs are of no use to anyone, Socrates. But if you want them, then here,” Rodias would state. Looking back to the Lead, Rodias would firmly shake his head.
”While I understand your disgust, Graft, the reality of it is that he is a Chateau residence much like any of us. I plead with you to allow him just a moment of your time. If you do that, I swear you’ll never have to see him in your factory again. On my word, and on my knives.” Rodias said, wondering just why Chuunitrixx made such a...repulsive mimic. To the very minutest aspect, Socrates was a detestable being. And yet, he seemed to have a purpose in everything he did.
“‘Plead with’?” Graft asked, an ever-so-slightly derisive edge in his voice. “No more than considerate word choice on your part, I’m sure. You mean ‘order’, of course. Still, I would wish to hear you say it, sir.”
Socrates smiled, as the chest returned to him, and, quite suddenly, his head unzipped, as he crammed the chest in, and snapped his head shut; the chest snapped and shattered, the lock and hinge cracked and burst, and a bit of yellow spurted from between his lips, as he happily -- no, smugly -- chewed and swallowed. "
Oh, pardon me, I made a small mess," he says, rubbing the egg into the floor with his sandal. "
As for me, please, my Lord, your hollow promises offered offend me," he says, "
This is the outcome I intended. I sent dear, sweet little Kath ahead of us for a reason, Rodias. I wanted Kath, poor, gullible, little girl, to temper and prepare Graft. I wanted him to have a good reason to keep himself in his quarters, and us at the door, my poor, empty Lord," he was grinning that damnedable grin that would haunt Rodias, "
I'm a Mimic. I'm a Doppelganger, Greater, at that. We Overseers get a class increase, because more effort is put into us. But, we're still learning... always learning. I appreciate your precision-focused ways, Graft. I'll be sure that your skill is put to invaluable use."
"
Thanks for entertaining me, Rodi! You're the best!" Socrates says, in
her voice, as cheery as always.
What would follow next would be only heard by Graft, the exquisitely detailed sounds of flesh being cut apart, of Socrates being rended apart, and, lastly of several gunshots being leveled into a puddle of viscera, the gun that Socrates held now smoking in Rodias’ hand as he looked down at Socrates’ remains, which would no doubt soon be restored in full back at Enderall. Stowing the gun in his cloak to return to Chuunitrixx later, Rodias would smile at the Team Lead.
”My apologies for the wait, Graft. Please, allow me to speak to you now,” he would say, as if the sound of an individual being torn apart hadn’t just happened over open communications.
All that Rodias's actions accomplished was a disintegrating mess, a melting gun, and a victorious laughter echoing the Chateau Ground. Socrates couldn't help it. "
It's a brand-new day, my friends!" he laughed among the maelstrom that was Chapter VI. As everything was in chaos from Chuunitrixx's uncontrolled emotions. "
Now, I have the upper hand in the game, my dear Lord..." he says, before laughing himself to a terminal, and smashing a button, "
Administrative Lockout Password Change. Old Password: Power Overwhelming. New Password: There Is No Cow Level." Socrates says, "
Chapter Lockdown: Disconnect."
Once again, Chapter VI disappeared off the roster -- only Rodias wasn't taking an elevator in this time. Socrates grinned, "
Now, someone needs to clean up this mess. I guess that's me. Good thing I ate."
“It sounds like my Guards will indeed be busy cleaning up,” Graft said offhandedly. “My TL will lead you to my office, sir...”
The door slid back, pulled by unseen tendons within the wall, to admit Rodias to Graft’s office. Musty and cluttered as ever, it provided an overload of visual stimulus, and the Director sat at the center of it. Papillary stood directly to his right, more than likely there the whole time. Graft got straight to business, as was his custom. “Sir, while Open Line is a utility skill and not altogether that valuable, particularly for a hivemind organization, it’s still an important asset of mine and a regrettable thing to be copied. I attempted to establish an Open Line to both Chunnitrixx and that snotwad but failed, which means they do not consider me their allies. You’re letting that psychopath and her vermin menagerie run rampant.” He leaned forward, tenting his fingers. “In fact, if I might be so bold, you’re letting all of us run rampant. I thought for sure you’d disapprove at least one of my projects.” He chuckled, as if outing himself for another indiscretion, then continued. “The TL assigned to front door duty somewhat recently reported a vast number of different humans leaving the Chateau. Through analysis of common denominators and reflection on the Chateau’s roster, I’d guess it’s either more mimics or modified Mamoru clones. Tell me you ordered that.“
Rodias closed his eyes, before sighing deeply.
”You’re right Graft. I am letting everyone run rampant. I have been for the last two weeks. I must admit that I’m not used to being in a leadership position...but that’s no suitable excuse. Not anymore,” the Sable Lord would say, taking a seat and promptly sighing.
”Of all the Sable Lords to have been brought here, I doubt that I’m anywhere near the most qualified. Droledge, or Kiss My Axe would have managed this place far better than I have been doing. As such, I feel that I’ll need to reign things back a bit. Get a firmer grip of control over things, so that I don’t lose control. Or worse. Allow someone to get themselves killed.” Whatever was in the Sable Lord’s mind, it was clear that it had made him realize that he was far from perfect as a leader. Far from the “Pinnacle of CEOs” as Graft had called him in their first meeting. Right now, he felt that he in earnest needed to do things to make the members of Gothika more under control...before someone or something came and tore it all away.
Graft nodded. “Yes. As one boss to another, it is true that sometimes one’s organization can get out of control. A boss that is too lenient will be walked all over, and the company will suffer. When that time comes, it is necessary to demonstrate that you mean business. A leader must identify problems and correct them, without hesitation or remorse. Like healing a wound, what is rotted must be cut and scraped away. If a whole arm or leg is corrupt, it must be sawed off to save the rest. Better to lose a part than the whole, is it not?”
He lowered his voice. Behind his goggles, in the poor light, his eyes were inscrutable. “Has Chuunitrixx not betrayed Bandersnatch? Betrayed us?”
Rodias would sharply exhale, before outright saying:
”No. I do not think she has, Graft. Rather, I just think that I’ve been dealing with her wrong. But, I can still bring her around. That much I am certain of.” Leaning back again, the Director shrugged. For some reason, he was smiling. No grotesque affair, it haunted his features like a shadow, as if he knew something mildly amusing. His voice came even though his mouth didn’t move. “Then see that you do. I cannot abide by a CEO who is not taken seriously, manipulated and made mockery of by his own employees. If you require help in your endeavors, be assured that my Factory is yours...provided I am repaid, of course. It’s the least you could do for one so unshaking in his loyalty.”
”Speaking of...I wished to speak with you, Graft. Namely on your espionage on Chuunitrixx’s territory. I understand that you wish to perform better than most, but...I have to wonder what you have to gain by learning the methods of others,” Rodias would state, before adding on:
”Frankly, I feel that your methods are the kind best suited to you. Save for this apparent espionage that panicked Chuunitrixx.”Graft laughed dryly, his face practically bare of humor. “Well, if I did, I’d have everything to gain, really. But want to know something funny? I don’t spy on my allies, usually. I kept the Open Line active on Kath in case the potential threat she encountered returned, and so that I could hear the results of her and Ashara’s scouting. I figured I’d get a report later anyway, but needed the data to start designing the Vis-Types as soon as possible. This ‘espionage’, to which Chuunitrixx overreacted so disgustingly, for which she instigated this farcical quarrel, in which I have no interest and for which I have no time?” He shrugged. “An accident. Apologies.”
He stroked his whiskers in contemplation. “Although I feel her situation would have escalated regardless--really, the fact that someone so much as
heard about her dubious exploits causing all this? She’s reaching for anything. Any excuse to do what she wants,” he shook his head, having guided the conversation back toward his adversary.
Rodias would close his eyes, before shaking his head.
”I can’t bring myself to abandon her. Not after...after losing Traptrixx the way I did. I owe it to her creator to help her. To be better than this. I...need to make this Chateau a better place. For everyone here. Chuunitrixx may not seem it, but she is trying to help grow the Chateau in power and size. Her scouts are to bring in supplies to be distributed to the COIN. For the time being, Graft, I appreciate your efforts. But, let me handle Chuunitrixx,” Rodias would say, opening his eyes once more to reveal that they were almost shining with a sense of resolve...and a hint of sorrow.
“Well, your heart is in the right place,” Graft told him, sensing that the meeting was nearing its conclusion. The look in Rodias’ eyes was simultaneously reassuring and offputting. “I hope that you don’t get it pierced for your troubles. As for me, keep her and her vermin out of my hair…” he raised his cap to rub his bald head. “...and as long as I get plentiful resources from COIN, I will be pleased. From your mention of it I take it to be back online, which is the best news I’ve received all week.” He smiled at last, excited by the prospect of refilling his depleted stores.
”I wouldn’t be surprised if her recent episode is going to affect the resources coming back. But, if my current scheme works out, you’ll have plenty of materials to work with within the month. And, do try and close any lines that you open as soon as you’re done, Graft. Have a good day,” Rodias would say as he departed, leaving where he had sat the chunk of Amberlyte that he had received from Ashara, specifically placed to let the light catch upon its brilliant honeyed color.
Three tentacles shot out of Graft as if on springs, seizing the gleaming ore from where it lay and reeling it in. “Of that, you can be certain. Pleasure doing business...” The director swapped to a different pair of lenses and began his analysis.
