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Oh gosh. I hope Millie is at least empathetic with him. I also hope she’ll notice that he doesn’t actually have bladder issues during the day, more like anxiety to be honest! -
By astrodiaper · Posted
I'm thinking Hot Pockets and dino-shaped tater bites. It'll depend on how I'm feeling when I get back from the laundromat. (Dino taters were on sale. Probably would pair well with pepperoni Hot Pockets.) -
By astrodiaper · Posted
Nothing at the moment. I had on a Depends that I put on before bed. I woke up earlier than I would have liked. I was having a dream that I was at my grandparents', and I was waiting to get into the bathroom, and I ended up pooping my pants in my dream. Thankfully, that dream didn't become reality. I wet it a couple of times before getting out of it for work. -
By Kitty Angel · Posted
10. The Tech Guy Shimatoyō’s new contract was the biggest thing on my mind; it could make a huge difference to the company, and it would be a boost to my reputation as well. I was doing work on a dozen projects at the same time, but that one seemed the most likely to earn me any kind of increment. At the same time, I was getting a steady trickle of tasks in my inbox from Matt Buchanan assessing my suitability to work in IT. Those tasks could dominate my attention for hours at a time simply because they were intriguing; once I’d started on one, my mind would keep coming back to it even if I tried to work on something else; like the best kind of riddle. When I got home, it was good to have something different to work on. And that was often trying to perfect those weird little fusion barbecue cutlets; trying the recipe with different spices, and fine-tuning the cooking time to produce the best taste while still letting them last a little longer than they would otherwise have done. Carter helped me, of course. We didn’t see each other so often in work now. Gently’s replacement seemed to have realised Carter was useful right away, and would often give her a load of menial tasks. Maybe Carter was the only person who wouldn’t object to that from a newcomer; she was just too nice. But it was clear that everybody was starting to value her productivity now, so I wouldn’t bring that up. That meant that meeting up to compare our recipes for the upcoming picnic was the most common reason we got to work together. She’d signed up for MealKit now, but had just ordered a dozen kits for the same recipe, so she could try every variation or additional topping or sauce that came to her mind, while I experimented with slight changes in the basic recipe. We worked together sometimes, testing what we had come up with and seeing if our innovations went well together. But sooner or later we would be making our own, separate choices for the best version of the recipe to bring to the picnic. I couldn’t wait; because even when we had the same little obsession, I was sure that she was still going to surprise me. There was another surprise coming as well; if she could still trust me after an inappropriate slap. More of a light tap really, and I found myself trying to think that it didn’t matter; but if I forgave myself without giving Carter a good reason to forgive that unexpected gesture, that would be enough to prove to myself that I wasn’t the good person I had always assumed. Anyway… when I could stop dwelling on that one mistake for a moment, I occasionally wondered if there was enough time in Carter’s schedule to take a look at the reading list I had sent her, or to look for stories that might help me to understand the things that she really wanted to say. It was likely that I could only ever be a friend now, and that raising my hand to her even in the most gentle way would mean that she couldn’t trust me to the depth required to share her secrets. But I could hope. She didn’t mention it, but that didn’t necessarily tell me anything about whether I was in her bad books. She could simply have moved on. I wasn’t expecting the surprise that was waiting for me at work one morning, just a couple of days before the now-annual picnic. “Can you come into my office for a moment?” he asked. I turned around and opened my mouth, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. I must have looked like a goldfish for a moment there, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. He just turned around, assuming I would follow. I paused, and looked around at the other people in the corridor. Some of them were clearly amused. The man speaking to me was best known for maintaining the arcade machines in the break rooms, and a lot of people assumed that on any hierarchy diagram he would be pretty low down. Even in a campus like this, where those in charge were trying to make a point that rank wasn’t useful, the people who didn’t use those games were likely to assume that he was roughly equal to one of the janitors. I didn’t agree with that. He worked here, that was clear. But I’d never seen anyone actually giving him orders, and I’d never heard any sign of the guy being disciplined for paying little attention to the people around him. Combined with that, I couldn’t imagine SYL hiring someone for a simple task like that. The only solution that made sense, once a chance encounter made all the facts in my head collide, was that the arcade machines were his passion project. The company always allowed us to allocate some portion of our time to whatever we thought would benefit the company; and then they rewarded those whose projects turned out to be helpful. So whether the arcade machines were good for morale or whatever, this guy probably had a job somewhere else in the building, and would be doing things related to tasks he had been assigned as well as the part we saw. It was surely a mistake to underestimate him. I followed, trying to ignore the people who watched me with disdain. I didn’t care what most of them thought, but I was sure that if any of them were in a position of authority over me in the future, they might regard me with a little less respect. I was actually surprised to find that arcade guy had an office; but only marginally surprised to find that one of the arcade machines on the first floor was on wheels, revealing a door behind it when he pushed it from the right direction. And there was no surprise at all when I saw that the room beyond might have been some retro arcade, with machines that had probably been in his personal collection since the eighties. The neon sign on the far wall said “Flynn’s Arcade”; of course it did. The only thing taking my breath away at this point was the size of the “office”. It was amazing, but it also meant that I’d still underestimated how much this guy’s main projects meant to the company. “Wow,” I muttered, staring at the rows of screens. I had to say something that mattered. He had an office much larger than mine; and the decor made it clear that he actually had the authority to do whatever he wanted with the space, rather than relying on convention to keep other hot-desking employees from wandering in to use an unoccupied computer. He outranked me, that much was clear, so I knew I had to impress him. And then I saw a machine I recognised, and automatically took a step towards it. “Wow, Trolls and Goblins. I used to live near a laundromat that had one of these in the corner. Didn’t think anyone else had heard of it.” “Want a game?” he asked. “I’d be interested to see your score. Maybe find out how much you remember, if you’ve played it before.” I thought that was a bit weird, but I pulled out a coin and put it in the machine. It was a bit of a challenge; it was at least ten years since I had played the game; and I had only ever devoted real time to it when my high school friends were too intent on some plan that I thought must be dangerous or illegal. But after a couple of screens I found that the motions were all coming back to me. I didn’t have the instincts to avoid the wizards who would ambush you with no warning; it would probably have taken an awful lot of practice to memorise where they would be. But I could just about clear the first stage by my third attempt. I managed to get two of the skull coins as well, which I thought wasn’t too bad. “Good going,” he said, and clapped me on the back. “I bet if you started getting a game in every morning, you’d be able to top the score table in no time.” “Probably not,” I said, looking at the list of names on the screen. They were almost all “**Matt**”, and with scores a hundred times what I had achieved. I had to guess that was his name. “You never know. But anyway, I wanted to ask you about your career prospects. Do you think you’re getting on well with the dynamic teams here? I notice that they’re shaking up the structure a bit after Gently’s rather… interesting ideas.” “Yeah, it’s like getting used to a new system,” I said. Gently had been transferred elsewhere; perhaps to learn that spying on coworkers was frowned upon. But to guard against his successor doing something similarly careless, the floor had gained an official supervisor, who needed to approve all independent projects. It felt like just a formality, but in a space that had previously ignored chains of command in favour of letting everyone organise their own projects, it was weird to have a formal boss again. I really hoped that once the new team lead had gotten up to speed with how the place worked, they could send Mr Jessop back to an office that actually needed management. The arcade guy was still watching, like he expected more of an answer. So I continued: “I’ve not got so many friends in this group, but I think I work well with everyone. And I’m trying to get to know people better, so we can work well together outside of actual work stuff.” “Would you be open to a transfer?” he asked. “I’m in favour of it right now, if you’re willing. I’m moving to a building on the North side, next to the cinema, and I’ll be putting together a team to deal with certain kinds of issues. We’re calling it the ‘Legal and Process’ department, but really it’s making sure that we’re compliant with all the data protection and freedom of information legislation worldwide. From what I’ve seen of your lateral thinking, I think you’d be a valuable member of the team.” “Sounds promising. Would it still be freeform, or a more hierarchical department?” It was the first question that came to mind; something told me that asking if it came with a salary increase would only make me a less suitable candidate. SYL made a big deal about team members who put the company, and the way clients viewed us, above the pay grade. And if I was really honest, I was already earning enough to satisfy all my needs; when it came to promotion prospects, I thought I’d probably choose more interesting work over more money. “There’s some structure, but we’re still writing the manual. To start with everyone would report to me directly; then we can make teams and org charts if it seems that would work better. I’m sure you can keep up with a little chaos until we find out how the people we’ve got will work best. Right?” “Yeah,” I said, and nodded. “Would be great to try something new. Find the right way to do things. But… we’ve got the new manager in charge here. Jessop, I think. And I don’t want to leave him and Noel doing all my work to keep things running smoothly.” “Yeah, don’t want to surprise your client contacts, right? So how about we give you a month to wrap up. Choose somebody you trust to be the primary contact for each of your clients, and let them know. Doesn’t have to be people who’ve had responsibility before. Then after a month, you come over to the Keppler Building. Any clients you want to hold onto, that’s fine. Like if they want to have the same person they trust. No problem with that, so long as you’ve got time for whatever we’re assigning you.” “A month,” I said, and nodded. “I can do that. Thank you… Matt, I assume?” I nodded towards the screen of the arcade machine, and the big guy gave a laugh that made his whole body shake. “I didn’t introduce myself, did I?” he said. “I’m not the best on the interpersonal side of things. Matt Buchanan. But yeah, everybody calls me Matt. And I hope you won’t mind if I start calling you by whatever name you put on the score boards; for most people, that’s the label I remember first.” I laughed, but I wasn’t entirely sure he was joking. After discussing the potential for the transfer, I played another couple of his games before leaving, and it seemed like making friends with this guy was as easy as playing on one of his beloved machines. We barely talked about anything, but somehow it felt like we were hitting it off. As I walked out of the strange office, and the noise of beeping machines faded into the background, I tried to straighten up all the facts in my head again. Matt Buchanan. The guy I’d seen wandering around every building on the campus, tending to his machines like they were beloved pets, was actually the CTO who reputedly owned a ten percent share of SYL? That would explain why he could do whatever he wanted; but also made it hard to believe that he was so eager to chat like friends. Maybe, I thought, he could indulge his hobbies and be everybody’s friend because he’d already won every possible rivalry. He was on top of the heap, and all he had left to care about was making the staff happy. And all I had to worry about was whether transferring to a different building would be good for me or not. -
By Kitty Angel · Posted
113. My Competitive Streak There were seven people around the table in the basement, but I didn’t know most of their names. Isaac introduced me and Kernigan to the others as we arrived – saying that he was Mark Smith, a friend from out of town – but I forgot half of the names almost instantly. I had no doubt that Kernigan would remember all of them. Despite being a recluse, he struck me as the kind of guy who could recall just about anything he needed to know, and these were probably his kind of people. As usual, an introduction by Isaac included name, occupation, and their favourite comic books or games. For Kernigan, he mentioned The Biker, the Don, and the Pope, which they had talked about earlier, as well as Bride of Thanatos, which I’d never heard of. I guessed that it might be a series by some other author, so it wasn’t too easy for the others to guess the man’s true identity. From Kernigan’s smile, I guessed that there was some kind of in-joke there. It probably wasn’t important to me. Then we were sitting around the table playing card games. We started with a simple one, as he had promised, which had a number of cards featuring characters from the Millhouse Underground universe, mixed in with other popular scifi and fantasy franchises. I recognised most of the cards, they were pretty iconic. But I spent most of the first game trying to get rid of a tribble, only to finally remove it and then realise that the current victory condition needed five dwarfs, not three like it said on that card. The second time around I did better, but we ended up drawing so many cards towards the end that we had practically the whole deck in our hands. That gave a distinct advantage to the people who had an encyclopaedic knowledge of all the different rules, and the different combinations they could be used in. There was no way I could get my head around what was in my hand fast enough, and the game went to Isaac’s boyfriend. I realised when I came to congratulate Captain Smug that I’d forgotten his actual name again; and then I spent most of the next game with the question nagging at the back of my mind. Everybody won at some point, I think. It was hard, but even I managed a game or two. Once I’d gotten used to the rules again, and the new cards that they had apparently added to the set since the last time Ffrances had dragged me along, I even found myself taking the game as seriously as they did. By which I mean not at all serious; everybody was laughing, and the games were always fun, even as they tried their best to win. It was refreshing, to say the least. After a few rounds we switched to playing other games. There was a board game about a bunch of people running around a haunted mansion collecting weapon cards in an attempt to assassinate the housekeeper, which was a lot of fun but rather complex to learn, and then a card game whose mechanics seemed to revolve almost entirely around borrowing things from your friends and not returning them. Both seemed like crazy things to have a game about, but everybody treated them as if they were perfectly rational plot lines. After a while, I figured that the story and artwork were really just there to give some kind of theme to what would otherwise be a pretty interesting abstract game. Regardless of how silly the concept was, I could look past it to the mechanics, and then enjoy trying to find the best way around the different strategies. The last game of the evening was called Deleg8, and was all about managing resources in an office environment. I almost laughed at that, given that it seemed to represent most of the work I’d been doing for the last few months. But I think that in the real world of work, there was no benefit to be gained by marking all your tasks as somebody else’s responsibility; and no monthly bonus for a manager who didn’t actually do anything. Although I was surprised to find that even with mechanics that made little sense in the real world, it somehow felt like the complex wrangle of inter-office politics. We played twice, and the second time I ended up with a veritable mountain of paperclips in front of me, and one of the guys whose name I didn’t know crowned me ‘Queen of the Office’, dropping a little paper crown onto my head as he returned from the bathroom. As silly as it was, I felt like I had accomplished something. And I wondered if maybe I’d been too quick to judge these people; if Tess was coming here in future, it might be beneficial for me to show up as well. When the first guy said it was time for him to go, I felt like the evening had barely started. So I was surprised to check my watch and see that it was already past midnight. “Wow, it’s tomorrow,” I mumbled. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” Kernigan said, and this time I had to agree with him. It really had been a good evening’s entertainment, and I was honestly thinking I could enjoy seeing some of these people again. As my plan had grown more complex, and I’d ended up spending more time around Isaac trying to ensure I got my hands on the comic book, perhaps I’d become less suspicious of him, or at least discarded some unconscious prejudices without realising. And by allowing myself to socialise with that group, it could be that I had actually got interested in getting to know them better. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but I still knew that they included some of Ffrances’s best friends; so if I wanted to be a part of her family, learning to like them was probably a requirement. We played one more game after the first guy had left. And then the others started filing out too. Eventually, there was only me, Isaac, and Kernigan. I felt a bit weird about being in the shop after it had closed. Almost like I was a truly dedicated fan of these comics. But there was a certain excitement to being there in the presence of Kernigan. He really was a genius; I could see that after reading his work. And he seemed like a nice guy too, respectful and respectable. I thought that if I’d had more time to acquaint myself with his comics, I would have had dozens of questions to ask him. “So you’re helping Gabby out with her little quest?” Isaac asked, closing the door behind the last of his friends. “She managed to get my interest with a unique sample of cheese,” Kernigan answered. “And after hearing what she had in mind, I felt obligated to help out. It’s a truly elegant story, and one I would like to be a part of in a small way. Not to mention a healthy respect for Ephemeral. When I see someone in my communities who contributes in such a positive way, I feel that I want her to have every possible happiness.” “You seem to know everyone. It’s amazing, with so many fans. You’re still… one of the guys, I guess. So… I can promise that comic now.” He turned to me then. “You’ll still have to pay, of course. But introducing me to Mr Smith in person, that’s something I never expected. You’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?” “I didn’t know what to ask. But I’ll do whatever I have to, if it gives Ffrances an extra chance to smile.” “Did she tell you what she’s actually planning to do?” Isaac asked, turning back to Kernigan. “It’s exactly the kind of thing Ffrances would be impressed by. That’s really what convinced me that she’s serious. Like there’s going to be a real future for these two. She knows her so well, you know?” “She told me that she was planning to make a gift of… Golden Ring. The third volume of a set. You were going to tell Ffrances that you haven’t obtained your copies yet. And then Gabby can give it as a gift, along with a suitably sentimental message. Is there another detail that she would be too embarrassed to admit until absolutely essential?” I looked slowly back and forth between them. Isaac had guessed a little more of my plan than I’d actually told him; and I knew that Kernigan would want to know the whole thing. There was no real way I could get away without telling him; so it was better to come out with the whole thing. “Okay,” I said. “I think it’s romantic, quirky, and just the kind of thing she would like. Like… over the top, but totally not cliché. Which I think is just what Ffrances would want. Now, I know that with Bronze Ring and Silver Ring, there’s been a sticky note shown on the cover. On that Weller guy’s computer, and stuck on the wall in the shack. A note left for another character, that seems to have a second meaning if you go back and read it again after thinking a lot about the story. I guessed that Gold Ring will have another one?” I waited a second while Kernigan nodded. “Well, I know that Ffrances will read the note first, and try to spot the pattern before she even opens the book. She’s been guessing that there’s some kind of code in them, something you can only decipher if you have all three. I don’t know about that, but she’ll go straight to the note. So I thought… maybe I’ll put my own note on, stuck on the cover on top of the illustrated one. An actual sticky note, with my message on, between two of those protective sleeves so it doesn’t mark the cover or stick up. She’d read it, she’d laugh, and then she looks up and…” “I have this mental image now,” Kernigan chuckled. “He… She, sorry. It’s a real surprise to learn that Ephemeral is female. I assumed, I suppose, I guessed based on her occasional comments about her girlfriend. But in any case, I can imagine her accepting her gift, a comic book that she has been anticipating for months and has had trouble obtaining. She stares at it, not even taking it out of the sleeve, and then leans over to read the sticky note on the cover. She expects it to be something with a hidden message; a second meaning or an Ërholdt cipher. And instead she sees just a couple of simple words. She isn’t sure which character they’re from, or to. She tries to work it out from the image, and then she finally recognises her girlfriend’s handwriting. Sliding the comic out of its package, the note is visibly stuck on the front, and she laughs at herself a second for not noticing sooner. And then she reads the words again, and finally takes in the meaning now that she knows those words are intended for her. Something cheesy, perhaps: ‘I bought you a ring. Will you marry me?’ And as she’s laughing, she looks up and sees you kneeling there with a real ring… all the classic elements, but arranged in a novel way so that she knows it’s all motivated by real feelings.” I couldn’t answer then. I was too embarrassed to move, but I could nod my head just the tiniest fraction of a degree to let him know that the cheesy, overdone gestures of romance he imagined were exactly what I had in mind.
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