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Post by physis on Jun 17, 2016 7:52:01 GMT
Some people think that making small talk at office parties is hard. In Sophia's humble opinion, it's only harder when you don't have a good backstory to use for springboarding into conversations.
Not that the socialites hadn't prodded her for the juicy details. Sophia Veles had no public history before she wed the CEO of Oricon. The scandal had mostly quieted down by now, only to be punctuated by the occaisional tall tale about Russian oil giants or JFK conspiracies.
The truth is a lot more boring than that, but nobody came to office parties for the truth. People came to tell outlandish origin stories and Herculean exploits. It's even more forgivable when she's the CEO's wife, and she has a treasure trove of stories about the boss that not even the tabloids are privy to.
"...I don't think that Leonida ever forgave him the the Scourge Sandwich." Sophia finishes. A wave of laughter washes over her, some of it even genuine. She takes a sip of her champagne, a clear signal of bowing out.
"Hey Max, didn't you have something similar happen to you a few months ago?" A software engineer elbows a young man at the table. "With whats-her-name."
feel free to make up an embarrassing story or redirect the subject
nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 18, 2016 17:19:35 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 18, 2016 17:19:35 GMT
he's kind of losing track of all the bullshit occasions that require him to wear a proper suit and watch his colleagues getting drunk and trying to fistfight and/or fuck each other, but as much as they hold a certain reality tv kind of appeal he's kind of running out of things to talk about. there are only so many times you can explain the cybernetic locomotion project team to admin staff before you find yourself giving the speech in your sleep, and max has been reduced to just availing himself of whatever alcohol is available and trying not to get too shitfaced.
but he's not gonna lie, the boss' wife is a pretty cool person to have at your table. of course there's the vague best behaviour thing hanging over their heads, but she doesn't seem to care, and at least there are some fresh subjects coming up. of course, as he gets elbowed and chokes a little into his beer, he's kinda wishing some of them weren't.
"oh, my god, no. syl... sylvie? i just call her french stalker chick in my head, it's easier." he laughs to cover up the full body cringe at the thought of her. "who was it that introduced her to all of us, was it david? he's on the list, i swear to god. the second i'm king of the universe, he walks the plank off the moon or something."
he takes his hand off the neck of the beer bottle, using it to gesture to mrs veles to draw her into what he's saying, a cue that he knows she has no idea what he's talking about. neither does anyone else at the table who doesn't work in mech lab 2, but she's the one who's been driving the conversation. "it was one of the interns a couple years back, she left, but a guy in our lab was trying to impress her and she decided she didn't care about him, she thought i was gonna be a better boyfriend, so. skipping over a whole bunch of stuff, she thought - my last name is fischer, right - she was gonna start calling me this-" and he brings both hands up in a single air quote gesture, "'cute' nickname, ends up making me 'mon petit pêcheur' to every single person in accounting."
he takes a pause, a swallow of the beer to punctuate, and a single flick of one long hand. "i'm the one who does all of the budget correspondence for lab 2. it lasted for six months, no joke."
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Jun 18, 2016 20:55:19 GMT
Post by physis on Jun 18, 2016 20:55:19 GMT
She addresses Max with full seriousness. When she's serious, she doesn't look the other person in the eye.
"If you're being harassed, then you should inform human resources." Sophia speaks as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "The company certainly didn't invest in all the game rooms and latte machines so that the employees can be uncomfortable." She smiles. "A wound can only ever fester if you allow it."
Most of the employees are too buzzed to catch how creepy the ending sounded, especially combined with the genial sound of her voice. In fact, it's followed by questions of whether or not they can get a trampoline installed in the Oricon Plaza. Sophia pretends to consider it. None of them will remember this conversation by tomorrow morning. "We can talk about it if we release that new operating system before Apple upgrades-- sorry, downgrades again."
nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Post by nemesis on Jun 19, 2016 6:59:02 GMT
he leans back in his chair with a shrug. it's not that he misses the sudden weird wave of intensity, but he doesn't let it show on his face. "nah. it wasn't worth ruining an intern's career over. probably thought she was just being enthusiastic in pursuing a guy who she knew didn't have a girlfriend."
as he speaks he flicks out the barest extension of his mind to touch hers, curious about the reaction. "is that still harrassment? a girl fresh outta college, half my size?" it's framed as simply casual clarification, rather than the probing cue that is. he doesn't exactly want to go further unless he's sure there's something real good in there.
physis
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Post by physis on Jun 19, 2016 7:36:15 GMT
She's polite, but her mind refuses to be placated. Sophia leans back into her chair. The alcohol only lightly dulls the memory of a sharp pain erupting from her shoulder. A warm hand where there was only previously the cold. The sound of falling glass.
The knowledge that she was always stronger, braver than any of the humans. She was always better.
(Only not soon enough).
Sophia smiles like the darling that she is. "You're a kind man, Max. I see why your peers speak highly of you." nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Post by nemesis on Jun 20, 2016 9:22:26 GMT
well holy shit. who knew?
the smile freezes a little on his face but max is nothing if not good at faking it. "really? who? whoever it is, they're lying to you." and it looks perfectly natural, even, the false humility of his ducked head, his dismissive gesture. "i bet nobody talks about me at all and you're just trying to make me blush, ms veles." he's dimly aware of the others starting to talk about the OS launch, but he maintains the demand for eye contact, his easy smile.
he has kind of a rule about this: looking deeper into fucked up people never goes well, and he pretty much refuses to do it unless they ask, but it's pretty rare people are carrying trauma this close to their surface. or is it? who fucking knows. max is a psionic, not a shrink.
still, though. it's vague - really damn vague - but he can tell it hurts. suddenly the remark about wounds makes a little more sense. 'humans', too.
"besides, if we wanna talk about things that are probably untrue, i wanna know about how everyone keeps saying that the boss built you in a lab." it's friendly, 'light' conversation, but his tether is still in place. who knows what it might provoke.
physis
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Post by physis on Jun 20, 2016 9:46:48 GMT
"Careful, mon petit pêcheur. We could be the topic of the next company scandal." She deflects casually. Sophia knows this game well. She plays it herself whenever the public was looking. "Goodness knows that our annual leak isn't going to come from Research and Development."
It's not the first time that someone has accused her of being a test tube baby. It probably won't be the last. Sophia doesn't enjoy the incessant questions, but it's better than actually telling the truth. "How much is the National Enquirer paying you, Mr. Fischer?"*
*the national enquirer is an american gossip magazine that's the equivalent of "the quibbler" from hp nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Post by nemesis on Jun 21, 2016 0:36:45 GMT
the pet name cuts into the veneer like a knife and max’s smile changes ever-so-slightly - corner of his lips lifting, an edge of teeth. it reads as confident, relaxed, but his eyes are piercing, laser-focused on sophia. predatory, almost “i don’t think so, ms veles, you don’t strike me as such a scandalous person. have i got you wrong?” he lifts the bottle to his lips again as opportunity to pause, elbow propped on the table. again, easy and confident body language, but with the faintest edge to it.
he won’t lie to himself, this is probably the most interesting max has found a woman in months. she’s kind of fascinating. he replays the car-crash intensity of the glimpsed moments in his head again, watching her.
“well, they don’t pay in advance, you have to actually sell the story to them. i’m hoping a couple grand? the wild party lifestyle doesn’t pay for itself.” he shrugs, tilts his head - he’s kidding, genuinely making a joke, even if he thinks the resulting smile may only be skin-deep. even if it is, that tells him something. “i figure if people are looking hard enough that they’re coming up with conspiracy theories, there’s probably a good reason they don’t know the real facts.”
he lets that hang again, taking the last sip of the beer. “hey, if you have the money to maintain your privacy, why not?” physis
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Post by physis on Jun 21, 2016 1:12:59 GMT
She's met reporters who were far more terrifying than Max Fischer.
Bring your worst.
"Don't you think that the present is much more interesting?" Sophia certainly thinks so. Or maybe not in a company where they were literally engineering the future.
She thinks about all the layers of makeup that she applied a few hours ago. She thinks about the reciepts burned in the fireplace, the accounts that had to be opened. She's already living a performance; there's no need to drag Zahir in to be her co-star. He has enough on his mind. Quite literally.
No, she'll take care of this herself.
"Most people seem content to think of me as princess Anastasia. Why not let them? A lab story ruins the charm, doesn't it?" Someone makes a joke about Sophia becoming the spokesperson for their new AI programs. She nods diplomatically.
Better the love story. Better the grand sweeping gestures of romance, the haze brought on by a bad case of happiness than the rot. Better the princess than the human, beauty over the beast.
"Believe it or not, the rich are not biologically compulsed to buy things that they don't need." She smiles, as if she truly had nothing to hide.
She's tired. She's tired and helpless and wanting, but protecting Zahir from scrutiny is worth all of those things. Where tolerance falls through, love does not.
nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 21, 2016 16:37:15 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 21, 2016 16:37:15 GMT
”i always thought that the value of the present depends on the situation. if you already have everything you want, everything you need, then sure.” it’s been years since max found himself having anything that could be considered philosophical debate, not since cody and the whole formative period of ‘morality is relative’ in his life, and honestly it sort of feels a lot like sitting in the college dorms sharing a joint and arguing about politics. the setting is fancier, sure, but he’s not about to start thinking he’s any more worldly than that. “besides, our pasts are what make our presents, right? and everything we do in the present is going to become part of our past. it’s not who we are, sure, but it’s context.”
the tether is thin, barely-there, but he easily admits to himself that the boss’ wife makes him nervous. he wants to crack her open and take a look, honestly, but she’s done nothing to warrant it and again, his policy about fucked up people holds true.
“i think you’re asking the wrong person. i’m an engineer, ms veles, we’re kind of allergic to the idea of mystery.” if he had to guess? the woman is a construct. not in the sense of an android, not in the sense of the AI jokes, but he’s known people who’ve spun shells of half-truth and disguise for themselves before. he used to be one.
he laughs at the statement. there’s little humour in it. “i’m not saying that, ms veles, i’m just saying that if you have it you might as well use it. besides, i think everyone needs privacy sometime, right? pretty sure i wouldn’t want people knowing my life story either.”
physis
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Jun 21, 2016 22:02:53 GMT
Post by physis on Jun 21, 2016 22:02:53 GMT
Sophia has little patience for postmodernism. If she wanted to talk philosophy, then she would be drinking with Zahir right now. At least he has an actual doctoral degree in philosophy hanging on his wall. Not a slew of unqualified opinions about who Sophia should be.
Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I suggest that you stick to engineering, Fischer." At least it's a skill that can suppliment his living instead of drawing her ire. Pissing off the CEO's wife generally makes for a poor step in career advancement, but she must be gracious. Anger and vengeance are the tools of another woman. A woman that she holds too closely to her chest.
To her credit, Sophia is still here for the conversation, as dreadfully dull as it may be. So I should run? Run to a place where the limelight does not reach me? Sophia's pretty sure that most celebrity women have had this thought plenty of times. It didn't matter. She's managed to deflect the conversation, and it's enough.
"Tell me, Fischer. Have you ever been in love?" nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Jun 21, 2016 22:19:11 GMT
Post by nemesis on Jun 21, 2016 22:19:11 GMT
the hostility is so veiled it has to be real, and he can practically feel her dislike of him growing. max gets the feeling she probably has a better measure of him than most people do. “that’s the plan, ms veles. i’m not good for much else.” the humility is completely false but to tell the truth... well, that’d be too easy.
better to be one of the ‘humans’.
god, but he really wants to know. the whole 'who hurt you' thing is a joke, sure, but here it's kind of painfully apt.
“i thought i was, once.” the change of subject is a little left-field but he rolls with it, sets his empty bottle on the table and spreads long fingers against the cloth. “turned out it was just how it goes. great for six months and then entropy sets in. you start hating each other the more you know each other.” he drops his gaze for a split-second, the wry smile a bitter-edged thing, eyes cold as he looks back up at her. “of course, it’s not universal. you would know about that, married and all.”
physis
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Jun 21, 2016 23:37:35 GMT
Post by physis on Jun 21, 2016 23:37:35 GMT
Not good for much else. Well, who is Sophia to disagree with such truthisms?
"It's easy to hide. It's easy to run home and pull the blankets over your eyes." God knows that's all that she's been wanting to do for the past several years. "You can't do that when the love is real. You can't let them stand up there on that pedestal alone."
There are some bullets that she can't take in her husband's stead. She can't protect him from Ishamael or Batin or any of those other things that have taken up residence in his life, but she can shield him from the presses. She can shield him from the people who would rather take advantage of him. Even if it means stepping out into the light.
She feels warm, and Sophia knows that it's not from the alcohol. She loves him. He loves her back. It's still a marvel to think about. The feeling is deeply redeemptive on a spiritual level, except Sophia has never been one for the gods.
(She does love him, though. That's better than a divine mandate.)
Liquid courage certainly didn't hurt this conversation. "I could be sipping a malt beer on the beaches of Trinidad, undisturbed by journalists and nosy engineers." This time, adoration colors her voice. "Or I could be by my love's side, the National Enquirer be dammed." nemesis
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change your name and keep your face
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Post by nemesis on Jun 22, 2016 0:37:05 GMT
fucking god, woman, cool it with the mushy shit.
the contrast is kind of hilarious in a decidedly weird way, the flashes of old scars to this intense wedded bliss. maybe it’s because he’s a cynic when it comes to this. he feels her sincerity about it, sure, and maybe if he wasn’t careful he’d end up in deep undying love with his boss as well, but the concept is alien to him. “must be nice, i guess.” he’s aching to lapse into more comfortable language, but calling the entire concept of love bullshit to sophia veles’ face is probably not the way to go if he doesn’t want to get escorted out of the building by security. that, and the joke about being easy that he really wants to make.
“i guess it’s just that i...” need to choose my words real carefully, “i’m one of those people who kind of gets other people. i pick up on the little things. i’m also amazingly humble, obviously.” the little laugh is two notes, quiet. “i mean. nobody is ever on that pedestal. they can’t be, when you notice every flaw, every misstep, their doubts and suspicions and misgivings about you and who you are. on the plus side, perfectionism is something people actually want in their R&D staff, so i’m not totally out of luck.”
he knows that he’s drawing the cynicism up as a shield against the frankly uncomfortable level of emotion he can feel. “that’s... admirable. i won’t call it luck, i’m sure neither of you think it that way, but you must be... happy to have found one another.”
he’s very studiously leaving out everything he wants to say about the inevitable tragic ending, some way or another. he’s especially leaving out the part where his own relationship with cody ended in stab wounds and a defenestration. it’s probably not appropriate.
physis
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Jun 22, 2016 13:20:13 GMT
Post by physis on Jun 22, 2016 13:20:13 GMT
Careful what you wish for, Max Fischer.
Sophia thinks about all the nights that he had to stop her husband from hurting himself. The nights when she had to stop him from hurting her.
How nice it must be, to struggle with a partner's flaws and missteps, doubts and suspicions and misgivings. How nice it must be, to not struggle with a ghost inside of the machine.
She misses relationship banter that doesn't end with: "You should find a different husband, Sophia. A better one. Someone who won't ever hurt you."
She's cheated death so many times. It only makes her arrogant about cheating someone else's.
Sophia waves away someone who tries to offer her another beer. She knows her limits. "If your doubts take precedence over your partners, then that is no fault of theirs." The act of rationalizing grief is an art form in Sophia's hands. "What are you afraid of?" nemesis
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