fuckitybye | 023

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023

[Individual messages addressed to Damon, Costigan, Bela, ~~and Ana~~, all with minute variations on the following text. Some may have more gratuitous f-bombs than others. Ana's message is deleted during her conversation with Malcolm.]

Right. I've got a list of all the new arrivals who have come on board in the last week; verify and let me know if I've missed anyone. [Pretend it's attached here.]

So what's fit to fucking print, then? Obviously the Undead Party Conference and the resulting fallout, and I see we got some scuffles—Judas and Rex. I'd be really fucking interested to know if there was some dirt about how the wardens handled that one. And it looks like we got some people who've picked up some fucking superpowers, yeah? Any leads on that?

Anything else?

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[In flowing, curly script: Julius Caesar, Shakespeare. 1911, Mifflin.

FOLLOW THE NOTE TO THE LIBRARY, MALCOLM. SEEK AND YE SHALL FIND.]

[Oh for fuck's sake. Malcolm sighs and trudges off to the library, managing to look casual as he takes out the named volume along with a few other Shakespeare plays for camouflage.]

[Bela is slightly further along in the stacks, examining a set of plays by someone she's never heard of. When Malcolm appears, she drifts toward him, running her fingers along the titles until she's within speaking distance.]

'Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.' Don't look so put out, sweetie. The trip will be worth your time.

Edited 2010-06-25 21:27 (UTC)

[Malcolm gives her a sort of "oh, it's you" look and sits down at the nearest table with his handful, opening the Caesar at random.]

Any time I get sent on a fucking scavenger hunt, I fucking well hope it is.

[She selects a play of her own, sitting down opposite him without looking at him. Any passerby who isn't right on top of them won't be able to hear her, carefully pitched as her voice is--anyone glancing their way would see her lips barely moving, maybe reading the play to herself.]

You wanted to know about the infirmary debacle, and Judas and Rex--they are, in fact, related.

Edited 2010-06-25 21:38 (UTC)

[Malcolm nods almost imperceptibly. He lowers his own voice to match hers.]

Both of 'em worked there, yeah?

They did. Though the triggering event was entirely unrelated to either one of them--well, no. I should say, it was peripherally related to Dr. Lewis--Rex.

[She turns a page of her play, keeping her eyes scanning over the words even though she isn't reading them.]

One James McCullen returned from port severely injured--heavy burns, from what I understand. In an attempt to ease his pain and speed his recovery, someone close to him administered a small dose of something unstable. Rather than the desired effect, it encased his head in what seems to be a metal mask. In his resulting delirium, McCullen pointed the finger at Rex, who, as you say, worked in the infirmary at the time.

[She turns another page, pausing to 'read' in silence, lips still moving, as someone passes by. She spares a glance at the person's back, confirming it's no one she knows before continuing.]

The result was predicable. Hysteria and knee-jerk overreactions. And even when the culprit came forward, the wardens--set as they were on Rex's responsibility despite the total lack of evidence to support the claim--banned Rex from the infirmary pending an investigation.

Edited 2010-06-25 22:05 (UTC)

[Malcolm nodded. He took a pen and notepad out of his jacket pocket and scratched down a few notes of what Bela said, eyes still on the book as if he was copying out a passage. It was interesting to see where Bela's version of the story dovetailed with Ana's, and also some of what he'd gotten from Damon.]

Hell of a lot of info you got there, love. Mind if I ask you if you got a dog in this fight, or you just a casual observer?

And we're only just getting to the interesting part. [She leans back in her chair.] You wanted information. I don't do a job if I don't do it well, and this particular task is one I'm familiar with. Though one thing is certain--I'm more than a little tired of the wardens declaring their neutrality and then playing favorites.

Fucking Tom Brown's Schooldays, yeah? Not that I went to fucking public school or anything like that.

[Which he hadn't.]

So what's the 'interesting part'?

Edited 2010-06-28 17:44 (UTC)

Rex resigned in protest. Rather than letting that stand, both the wardens investigating him and Judas, who really had no place doing so, attacked him for it. Judas, who, by the way, is now in charge of the infirmary's inmates, I hear. Despite Rex's overqualification for the post and his clean record of service, they put a track-record traitor who helped an alien take over a planet in charge. One whose medical experience ended before leaches were in vogue. [Bela turns another page.]

And the little weasel didn't stop pushing Rex's buttons until the good doctor snapped and went after him. So, to summarize; a friend of Rex's was accidentally... maimed, I suppose you'd say, someone else took the blame, Rex was still presumed guilty despite all evidence to the contrary and banned from the infirmary, and then derided for resigning. This, on top of just escaping a world full of zombies. Almost anyone would go for someone's blood after that.

His attack on Judas only served as confirmation of what the wardens thought they knew. They sat back, smug on their laurels, while one of the people they're supposed to be helping had a breakdown, and then demanded to know why Rex wasn't being punished for his breakdown when Harper released him from zero--despite the fact that Harper was disciplining him, but hadn't seen fit to share how.

[Well, isn't this a gorgeous kettle of bottom-feeders. Malcolm frowns. Bela's account seems more thorough and possibly more balanced than anything else he's gotten so far, but Damon's emphatic advisory to trust nothing so far as Rex is concerned hasn't left his mind. Not that he intends to mention that to Bela.]

Hmph. Well-upfucked, wardens, well-upfucked. Tell me, how d'you think a description of this fucking fiasco in the inmate population's going to go over? 'Cos I don't want, say, any wardens' pets to go running off to their masters and all, yeah? But it seems to me there's gotta be some kind of awareness that they're fighting amongst themselves and not fucking seeing eye to eye all the time.

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