A Sammich (Izzerz)

It felt like he should be doing something.

Now that Pix was de-jure leader of HIVE, his responsibilities had soared. For all that was taken, HIVE still possessed abundant resources, not least being the money. Unlike before those resources did not come on a chain. The sprite could effectively do what he liked with them. The skies the limit. He could move mountains. And here he was eating a sandwich like some commoner. Not that he thought power would suddenly elevate him above the need to eat. It just felt like he should be doing something, is all. Was this how TIBERIUS began his day? Or did he get a dozen evil kicks in whilst brushing his teeth? What was the right way to go about wielding great power in-between all the mastermind schemes and cosmic battles? Toilet? Pah! I make my enemies defecate for me! The thrill of his election had given life an air of surrealism that Pix wasn't sure he would come down from. Doomed to the giddiness of a kid in a candy store for all eternity.

Anyway. The sandwich. He had chosen Nature's Own bread because of the advice his grandfather once gave him - "Just pick one already." He knew there were some crazed risk takers in Alabama that used three slices to make a sandwich, but Hugh had always been a fan of the traditional duo. He was a man of firm tradition. Then came the civil feud between margarine and butter. Long rivals with an unknown history of bloodshed. The Butter Barons had been living it large until margarine came on the scene. Margarine was by far the superior product and so the Barons needed to act. Using their influence in Congress, they managed to ban their competitors from entering the open market. Margarine lawyered up, and the rivals continued to dual across the century. At this current stage margarine was winning, now legalised, but Pix was loathe to make enemy of the powerful Butter Barons and thus chose to throw HIVEs hand in with their repressive regime. The filling was ham. But not just any ham. This particular pig had been hunted by butchers for 139 days following its escape from confinement with twenty of its pen-mates. Then it waged guerrilla warfare against its suppressors. The Spanish knew him as 'El Sparticus Cerdo' - The Pig Sparticus. His downfall came in the tragic occurrence of his betrothed betraying him for 30 pieces of truffles. As garnish, Pix used brown sauce. There wasn't much of a story to that last ingredient.

Distractedly, Pix sat at the breakfast bar and bit into his meal.

Blake walked into the room as Pix was making his sammich of tradition and watched from where she stood. It was kinda creepy how much thought he seemed to be putting into just a sandwich. Maybe if he had some confidence he'd be a half decent leader after all. As she walked over, Pix seemed out of it, almost like he was in a trance while he ate. Did he even realize she was next to him?

With a sigh, she hopped onto the bar next to him, sitting calmly with her tail swishing behind her, maintaining absolutely perfect balance. She'd been letting her tail be free these last few weeks, and she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was just comfortable or maybe it was the new and sudden sense of freedom she had. "So...Finally have a sense of humility, eh Pix? Can't do everything by yourself?" She smiled knowingly. "Why did you need me to leave for that Hugh? It's like I'm not on your side or something." She flicked an ear to indicate just exactly how she knew about the sprite's inner conflict. For once though, she actually called him by his name. Pix, then Hugh. No Mario or Luigi or any of that.

Mid-mouthful, Pix stopped chewing and stared with puzzlement at the girl which had just appeared next to him. He thought he'd sent Blake home. Mental health was nothing to take lightly. The order for her to stay at Nina's was given in all seriousness. People needed time to let drastic changes of lifestyle sink in or they were liable to make mistakes. Of course, she could be here to complain about exactly that. Pix did want to hear about her theories on why Kris was fit for service whilst she wasn't. This might turn out to be a fun meal. Dinner with a show.

Blake used the countertop instead of a chair, prompting Pix to try to reprimand her. She spoke first. "What are you getting at- Oh grief. Don't tell me..." From the assassin's subtle hint, Pix understood that his private conversation had been overheard. He'd been so busy worrying about how Gilda could mess things up, he'd completely forgotten to account for the cat-girl. Super-hearing was a pain.

Of course Pix hadn't meant for those words to be heard outside of the trio. He couldn't have people thinking he was beset by doubts. Didn't make him look good. Best if they, and by extension no one, ever talked about it. "Can we continue this conversation later? Preferably when I'm not present?" Picking up his sandwich, but leaving the plate, (oh wait, the plate! that has one hell of a story. prepare yourself for an epic tale of adventure, daring, heroics, and perhaps friendship. it all started-) Pix stood and made to leave the room. First rule of winning a discussion - avoidance.

If Pix left, that meant that this entire issue would not be resolved. That's...not what she was aiming for. Hopping off the bar, landing next to him. "Look, I get why you're upset about all of this. I honestly do. None of us were ready for this and you kinda literally got chucked into it. It isn't your fault." She thought about it and realized that only the people who had voted for Pix didn't realize how nervous he was over the position as a stand in leader. "I'm just here to talk with you, so gimme a minute for it alright?"

Was she still a bit angry that Kris had gotten cleared for duty? Oh absolutely. She understood the reasoning behind benching her after her life got torn down. That makes sense. But everyone had been through a lot, Pix included. "Look, for what its worth I'm sorry I overheard you. Being a cat is kinda a curse too. I can't really turn off how well I hear so I hear a lot of things I'd rather not." The feline assassin's awkwardness was shining like a lighthouse, she really didn't know how to talk to people and now she had to learn. "And um....Sorry I don't mean to ramble but...well...do you think you could use my help with anything?"

Avoidance didn't work against ignorance. If you were oblivious to the glaring social cues to leave well alone, then you only set yourself up for discussion technique number two - sarcasm. And plenty of it. Blake refused to drop the subject so Pix decided to stop being mature. As the assassin dogged him, he responded to her speech attempts without turning to face her, "Not my fault? Correct. But a safe bet. Nothing's ever my fault." Not by his own accounting, anyway. Pix reached the hall doorway when Blake asked to be given a minute. Stalled by a lilt of sincerity in her tone, the sprite loitered under the frame, still chewing his meal.

She tried to excuse her misconduct by blaming the potency of her abilities. Ha! Leave lame rationalisations to the expert. "Oh yes, you just fell into ten minutes of conversation." Pix didn't like that she knew what she did. What he'd done was very out-of-character. If too many people knew, they might expect such ridiculous notions as Hugh to better himself. Pix was comfortable with who he was - flaws and all! If people changed then they ceased being predictable. And then where would they all be? Nope. Addressing the subject was not his preference.

But there was that sincerity again. Pix didn't know Blake was capable of such discomfiture. He felt kinda sorry for her, "Blake..." His idea of Blake was a no-nonsense assassin who'd always been told she was the best. Entitled, intolerant, and incapable of stooping to this. Asking him to reconsider. Because some people were strong enough to change... Now it was Pix's turn to be uneasy. "Oh. Err. I did give you something to do. Shows how much you listen. My instruction to keep an eye on Nina wasn't arbitrary. She said it herself. She's been crying herself to sleep at night. And she thinks it's normal. I've tried getting her proper help but she refused. And the majority of her friends could only screw this sort of thing up." It was Nina herself he'd usually expect to give moral support. This also perfectly highlighted discussion technique number three - deflection. "You're not ideal. But you're... least objectionable for the task." There. He complimented her. Be happy! Go away.

Blake followed still, scratching her arm awkwardly. "You're asking me...ME...to give emotional support to someone. I've had emotion blocked out for 13 years Hugh. I really don't know how to deal with it. I know how to jump from high places, jump to high places, kill people from high places, kill people from low places, kill people from relatively close places, track people to kill said people, kill people in their sleep, kill people while they're awake, kill people while they are armed, kill people while they are unarmed, kill people while they're armed and not facing me, kill people while they are armed with a weapon pointed at me..." She kept on going but I'm sure you understand the trend she was going with. She followed Pix the entire time too. It was strange to see the usually monotone assassin ramble like this. She usually barely talked at all and just kept her nose in her books or played with a cat toy. Now...who knows what's going on in her head.

"And that's all I know how to do! I've never done the emotional support thing and I don't know how." Contrary to what Pix probably believed, she WAS just trying to talk to him. And she did feel bad about hearing that entire conversation. And she was just following him like a lost kitten. Huh, makes sense...[/color]

"If you've never given emotional support then you've never failed at it." A trite piece of advice that may have sounded wise but was actually uninsightful. All flare and no substance. It was a response generated by irritation. Since when was Blake so chatty? Pix had finished his sandwich before she'd even gotten to the end of her checklist. The sustenance gave him new energy to bite back, "You assassins. Always reluctant to branch out. Quinn doesn't see that her poison has other uses. Benevolent uses. And then you're afraid of a little basic empathy. Unwilling to even try and ask someone if they're alright-" Pix held his tongue. A thought dawned on him. Suddenly Blake's unusual activity had a rational explanation. He stopped walking.

"Oh, I see now. You are trying. This is what this was about. Comforting me on my personal issues. Stands to reason if you succeed here then you have what it takes to survive. As a normal person. Since you can no longer be an assassin hiding under TIBERIUS' skirts." The thought amused him. These killers were born and breed. Day and night they trained, honing their arts until they were positively lethal. And much in the same way as career soldiers, they must dread the day when their dedication was no longer their life. When they had to adapt to society. Make actual connections and not contacts. War was scary. Society was terrifying.

An additional thought assailed Hugh, and he acknowledged it grudgingly. If Blake was ever going to be any use to Nina, then she needed a win. She needed to prove to herself that she could do the social thing. Which meant he should respond to her original inquiries. He didn't want to. But if it worked, then his long-shot would be proven correct. And wouldn't that make him look brilliant? "You might have an even better rapport than I do. Only way to know is to get this over with." Pix tried to smile, "What was it you asked me, again?"

Blake didn't so much think about if Pix was going to snap at her. And she wasn't ready for it as her ears flattened and she visibly shrank as he went off. She wasn't used to being scolded. She usually did everything right, so this was kind of a shock to her. She didn't like how Pix was looking at it but he wasn't wrong at all. She was afraid of the real world, and she wasn't sure how to function as a normal human. Basic conversation was terrifying to her.

"I asked if you wanted help with anything..." She said quietly, her voice cracking a bit. She knew Pix would love having the control he seemed to have over her, but even then if she could just get back into the field and fight a bit...she'd be back to normal. Kind of.

Alright. A miscommunication on his part. Hugh shook his head. "No, I didn't mean that question. I already answered that one and I'm not changing my mind so soon." The sprite was talking about her inquires after him, of course. If she had changed her mind about butting into his private conversations, then so be it, but he was willing to talk now. A missed opportunity. Pix observed Blake's countenance and frowned, "Are you... pouting? Like a cat, are you pouting?" It was beyond cute. But also somewhat out of character to the assassin Pix had come to know. For the first time he noticed the tail swishing around behind Blake. Significant? He didn't know yet.

Blake blinked and tried to make herself presentable again. "What me? No, of course not." She glared at him as she usually did. If she didn't maintain the whole scary assassin bit with Pix, she would literally have no power around here anymore. "And Hugh, you know I'm better off than Kris is, so why stick him on the squad? Does this have to do with Tiberius?" She had to ask, even if it made no sense. Quinn had been an assassin for him to, and she was waved straight through.

"Not just better off. You're better." It was clear after reading the reports left behind by TIBERIUS that Blake was the more capable assassin. Granted Kris had seen a lot of off-the-books development since the time he was on the run, but Pix was not aware of this change in history and assumed all strength estimates to be up-to-date. If not up-to-date then with noted leeway for error. Regardless, in a straight fight Hugh would back the cat-girl.

"It does have to do with TIBERIUS. See, he's a cold b******, but he's not what I would call wasteful." Blake might have guessed where this was going. An issue of trust must be raised. While Pix was not often distrustful he had decided it was wiser to air caution, especially after the revelations Quinn had given him concerning the Guild. "You were obviously wholly committed to this Guild enterprise that he had. Means you were with them before us. I find it hard to believe TIBERIUS would group you any differently. He alienated HIVE because he didn't want to share his newfound power. But he did share it with the Guild. Which leads me to believe his relationship with them was master to subordinate. He asks and you obey. Why would he give up a perfectly good subordinate?"

There was a pause as if inviting Blake to answer. Pix would continue from any such reply with the following, "It's a rhetorical question. Already thought of an answer. You're still a subordinate. So. I can either kick you out and insult Mr El Presidente, or I can keep you on and waste your time. And by 'waste your time' I mean to manufacture you an actual human reason to stay. If you're with him then you don't want to get attached. If you're alone now then you can stand to bond with one of us. Sounds fair enough, wouldn't you say?"

Blake sat in one of the soft cushy chairs that HIVE had managed to get ahold of in the living room. "I'm...really not..." She whimpered surprisingly pathetically for an assassin who rarely showed emotion, let alone depression, anxiety, or fear. "I'm stuck on my own and just...really don't know what to do." She was speaking very quietly as Pix rambled on about what he had come to as a conclusion.

Once Pix finished she whirled around on him so fast that anyone would think she were bipolar. Hell maybe she was. She had never been allowed to have a personality until now. "You think I'm a resource for him? Really? Lemme explain something to you Pix, there are two forms of guild members. There are the 'perfect' ones that he makes from scratch. People like Kris, and all those creepy octuplets he has running around. Bred perfectly in a tank or something until they're his little freaking bundles of joy. Then there's people like me and Quinn that he just FINDS! We're the expendable ones. And no matter how good I managed to get, no matter how hard I tried I was nothing compared to all of THEM!" That at least explained how much she hated Kris most of the time. Blake didn't even know she had felt that way until now, and it honestly made her feel pretty stupid. Just competing for attention really.

"No matter what I did, I didn't get any say. They drag me here and make me feel like I'm important and then abandon me on an oil rig to deal with a bunch of people I've alienated myself from." She buried her face in her knees. If she hadn't KINDA gotten to know Gilda and Nina, then she really probably would be alone. Even Quinn had changed so much from the snake girl she'd known when they were children. Nothing was the same anymore for her.

The information regarding Kris was interesting. Though Hugh could have done with it not being delivered to him from a catty cutthroat. It had been too much to hope for Blake's cloud of despair to hold. Listening to the passion in her voice was what sold Pix though. He never thought he could pity someone so accomplished, but in actual fact his life had been miles better than hers. "You sound sincere. And your coming to me today would lend credence to your defence. But I didn't say you were necessarily 'conscious' of still being a subordinate." Risking another bout of anger, Pix was driven on by the need to make his point.

"TIBERIUS is smart. Damned smart. Maybe even smarter than me. I can't discount the possibility that he has a way to bring you back into his fold like that." Pix snapped his fingers. A master manipulator like Mal should never be discounted. Blake may not even envision anything which would make her crawl back, but this did not mean such a lure did not exist. That's what separated the genius from a layman.

"The alternative is that he really did let you go. Through some act of charity. The guy who breeds children as assassins shouldn't be capable of that, I think you will agree. And so this would leave the question unanswered. Why did he let you go?" It had been bugging him, moreso than any other question had during this separation.

Blake sat staring at the blank TV on the stand in front of her. A sleeper agent? Her? She shook her head. "I don't think so Hugh...I've been tortured for days at a time by those people to make sure I couldn't be broken and harden my mind. Do you honestly think they can just-" She suddenly facepalmed in realization. It wasn't like she'd been in the best mental condition these past few days! She'd already proven her 'training' was completely pointless. Great, more reasons to hate that guild.

"Maybe he let me go because...he just...really doesn't want or need me anymore..." She cat girl slowly curled back up into a ball, her ears reflattening to her head. It wasn't like he had ever NEEDED her. This was just a way to get rid of her along with Quinn. "I still don't understand why he left us to go insane here..." She said softly, a blank stare on her face. "I thought I was finally doing something important...maybe he dropped me because...I made friends with Nina and Gilda? Started to think for myself?" That made a lot of sense. "I wasn't really a mindless drone anymore at that point...thats what he hated about Quinn too. He didn't have absolute control."

“Sleeper agents, hmm”

From seemingly out of nowhere, the voice of Quinn could be heard. Pix can’t be pleased about this, assassins left by Tiberius showing a knack for overhearing conversations they themselves are not a part of. But then Quinn came into focus, swiftly dropping down from the ceiling of the hallway to which Pix had been making his exit towards. She dropped down, landing on the floor down on one knee. “You really need to start investing in security, Pix. Tiberius doesn’t need a sleeper agent to infiltrate this place, just a competent assassin – for which he has many”. A smirk present, Quinn spoke looking up towards Pix. Sure, Quinn knew the base well, better than most. So her being capable of navigating the place undetected shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. But Tiberius had many assassins, many resources at his disposal. Ones better at infiltration than Quinn or Blake, he doesn’t need either one of them if he wishes to blacklist the HIVE. Getting to her feet now, the Snake-Girl would approach Pix, yet walk straight past him and into the common room where Blake had settled. She shot a quick glance around the room, to the breakfast bar, to Blake, and then back towards Pix. Quinn continued.

“Sooooo... what about me? Blake was brought in as my replacement, whilst I disappeared off for months on end… Tiberius had you all believe I was dead, but here I am… alive. It’s a mystery, isn’t it? To this day; no-one has any clue of where I went, or why, or what happened whilst I was gone”. It hadn’t been spoken of, as of yet. There was more reason to distrust Quinn, than Blake. Tiberius had an ample opportunity to convert Quinn into one of these ‘sleeper agents’. “But Tiberius brought me back, right before we waved ‘bye-bye’ to the Zydons, and why? I don’t know”. By now, Quinn had moved around towards the chair that Blake was sat upon, standing behind it, leaning forward ever so slightly on the back of it. That same smirk was on her face as when she first appeared. Pix is rather good at debating, but Quinn was no slouch herself. It was time to take things to the extreme.

“Hell! I wouldn’t even need to be a sleeper agent, would I? I mean… you don’t get given the ‘Angel of Death’ moniker for nothing. Maybe that’s my mission, maybe that’s why he brought me back. To settle in with you all, only for when the opportunity arises to eliminate you all… poison can be so very subtle”. All of this; making a case for Blake. It wasn’t reflecting well upon Quinn, really. She was making Pix question his judgement of her, so in turn he may question his judgement of Blake. Between the two, Quinn was more likely to be the bad egg. Quinn then walked ahead of a chair beside the one Blake was sat in, speaking as she moved. Perhaps the only thing saving Quinn from being deemed a threat now, was the fact her tone hadn’t changed throughout. It was clear that she joking, over exaggerating many things. But even still, over exaggerating or not, they were all valid points. “I suppose I should get to the point, well. You should trust Blake, in the ‘field’ or otherwise because… well”. Stood before the empty chair, Quinn had a wide smile on her face as she finished saying her piece; “Because you trust me”. Quinn then jumped backwards, falling into the chair as comfy as ever.