You consider striking up a conversation with the fellow, or maybe just having a staring contest with him, but you decide you'd really rather not waste any more time here than necessary, and set about looking through the rest of the papers to make sure it's all accurate. Most of it is, but there's one thing that catches your eye as incorrect.
Excerpt said:
Mother: Daryna Polinski
Status: Unemployed, Housewife
Age: 43
Father: Symon Polinski
Status: Enlisted, Deceased
Age: 45
"Uh," you begin, pointing down at the page. "this is wrong. How do I fix this?"
"Just go ahead and cross it out, and write the correct information on the side, or something, and I can..." He yawns, "go in and fix it later." Seeing that Yelena and Elaine are still a ways off from completing their paperwork, he leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. You try to ignore the snoring that soon comes forth as you correct the information and move on.
Excerpt said:
Mother: Daryna Polinski
Status: Unemployed, Housewife Employed, Accountant
Age: 43
Father: Symon Polinski
Status: Enlisted, Deceased Employed, Warehouse Owner
Age: 45
It was a terrible stroke of luck that let you keep your father. Back when the barrier had gone down, two years before your birth, he had been a sailor aboard one of the merchant ships that operated out of the harbor. They had in fact set out that morning to travel to trade in far-off ports, and didn't expect to be back for weeks. Instead, they returned later that day, prow destroyed from running headlong into the sudden invisible barrier, and Symon missing a leg due to an accident caused by the impact. They got him to the hospital in time to save his life, but he's been on crutches ever since - something that left him unable to join the defense when the machines arrived. Despite his guilt at not being able to contribute, you've always been secretly grateful. You enlisting now is one thing, but back then, when it was virtually equivalent to signing up for the chopping block? You don't understand why he was so reluctant to let you join now...
Anyway, thoughts for another time.
As you draw close to the bottom of the stack (Yelena and Elaine have finally moved on to theirs, thankfully) your thoughts are interrupted as someone descends from upstairs. "As I said, this is a matter to take to Nasira; she is the resident authority on the actual military matters here; I'm just the one procuring funding. As long as Victoria hasn't ruined my car, the matter of her discipline is not mine to handle."
The woman who just spoke, following a disgruntled-looking Devora, is far more effeminate than you'd expect to see of anyone here. Wearing a long black dress with elbow gloves and a wide-brimmed cartwheel hat; her short pink braided hair, long, elaborately-painted fingernails, and large earrings mark her as someone who puts far,
far too much care into her appearance. Her voice is sophisticated and lilting, musical tones contrasting with Devora's clipped response. "I'll let her know, then."
"Yes, see that you do," the woman says dismissively, before noticing the three of you. "Hello, darlings. Am I to assume that you are the new recruits? A pleasure to meet you in person." You nod awkwardly, as her gaze shifts to the secretary slumped over in his seat. "I see my husband is still sleeping on the job." You'd expect her to grimace at this, but she simply rolls her eyes in amusement before striding back behind the desk to ruffle his hair. "Dear, I do believe you are meant to save that for
after the sun has set."
Grumbling slightly, the man rubs his eyes and stretches... and then abruptly shoots upright upon noticing who's beside him. "I'm sorry, I was just helping them, an-and then I-" he stammers, but is cut off by her laughter.
"Nothing to worry about, dear; it appears they were not yet done, am I correct?" You nod again, dumbly. "I do hope you at least introduced yourself to them..."
He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, about that..."
The woman chuckles again. "Oh, whatever am I to do with you?" Turning to you, she extends a hand to shake. "I am Director A.E. Waite, the head of the Mzendzyovka Defense Corps, though in practice my authority primarily extends to making an ass of myself back at the Capital to ensure you all have what you need out here, and pushing the researchers in Diphaci to earn their pay. This is my adorably narcoleptic husband and secretary, Peyton Smith." Smith takes on a strange expression and looks away as she pats his shoulder with her other hand.
"Pleasure to meet you," Elaine says, taking the proffered hand smoothly after you hesitate too long. "I think I've seen you pass through town before, but I didn't realize you were in charge
here."
"I do suppose I have the air of a hopelessly lost tourist, don't I?" Waite grins graciously in spite of the self-depreciation. "But I suppose it's an impression entirely earned." Glancing down at the folders sitting open and forgotten before each of you, she
hmms contemplatively. "You've already signed in by now, I trust? You needn't concern yourself with the rest so immediately; I'm sure you've had a long day as it is, and you have a long one ahead of you tomorrow. Unless you'd really rather finish it now, why don't you postpone the rest until later?"
"Ma'am," Devora immediately objects, and Smith raises a finger ready to back her up. Elaine is biting her lip, while Yelena immediately looks to you. And then someone knocks loudly on the front door.
Darling you got to let me know; should I stay or should I go?
> Stay, and see who the new arrival is
> Leave, and head to the medical wing
> Leave, and head to the mess
