Real Answers: A Meaningless Construction [RODERICH]

[Eduard von Bock]

Real Answers: A Meaningless Construction [RODERICH EDELSTEIN]

The unseasonably warm weather outside contrasted the ice cold air conditioning of the basement offices. He had packed a sweater just in case for the frigid conditions, a takeaway cup of americano situated at a safe distance from the desktop. He was used to the monotony. The same motions became part of his everyday to the point where everything besides securing the federal system became robotic; where he could turn himself off and just go through the motions of what was required of him. Settled at his work station, he had accomplished three hours of serious, thought provoking work with the sweater on and the coffee gone after the first half hour. Protecting secrets he wished he never learned about, testing new uses for pre-existing technology in relationship to security, locating threats and reporting them so that they could be "handled:" he was used to the morally ambiguous position that he held and justified it with the basic definition of the word: defense. However, consistent workflow was often interrupted by annoying calls from other departments for what were often the most basic of problems.

The head of the department tapped his shoulder, startling him. The gesture to the office cellphone was never a good sign. Eduard felt a sigh coming and bit his lip, instead, giving his adviser the most genuine smile he could muster while feeling nothing but mild irritation and agony. It wasn't convincing, but it wasn't like that was going to save him from the thirty minutes of Hell he knew was coming. The department head had informed him of who was on the other line and it solidified the awful direction the day was going. He required all of his willpower to drag himself out of his chair, prepared for a typical experience with one of the most obnoxious members of city government. One of the many banes of his work life.

Mr. Roderich Edelstein.

Out of all the people who gave Eduard the most grief at work, that man was near the top. The "fixes" that he required took five minutes at most and a good quarter of them weren't even tech jobs: just menial tasks that he happened to be in wrong room at the wrong time for. His haughty attitude reminded him of well-off mothers when he still had jobs in customer service with their meaningless superiority complexes over areas they, frankly, were completely clueless on.

He didn't hold back his eye roll once he had left the basement, the isolation of the elevator allowing him to take the deep breaths he needed to maintain his composure. It was just a banquet and, like most of the fixes, it would probably take five minutes. Only a few lights had gone out and he just needed to check the fuse box. Being in and out quickly was his motivation. If he could just distance himself from the institution at large, he felt like he could escape it mentally. The less he was around real people with real opinions, the more he could isolate himself in work and treat it as an entity that existed outside of the framework of reality.

With that in mind, he shed his sweater on his way down the hall, his shoes echoing against the polished floor along with the few who were shuffling to different rooms along with him. Readjusting his tie, he prayed his suit still looked presentable, deciding against the bathroom today, something in him rushing him past.

It would only be a moment. There was nothing he couldn't handle at this point. He was in control.

And with all the confidence that a departmental employee of local government could muster, he twisted the ornate knob to one of many banquet halls with his head held higher than usual...

---

Eduard would only remember the next few moments through sensory input. The sounds of conversation and the faces of familiar and unfamiliar characters alike. The smell was new and alarming to him; a combination of expensive cologne and blood. His immediate thought was to look to the lights; noticing that a few of them flickered. He felt a growing sense of denial as his body fought to keep him from panicking as pained groans and weak cries for help carried over the formal conversation around him.

He had never seen such copious amounts of blood before, staining the jacket of a man he was unfamiliar with. The faulty lighting illuminated his bullet wound and the red that stained his side and his first reaction was to scream. He wasn't in control anymore, and the eyes that landed on him after he disturbed the nightmareish scenario were less concerning than the ones who ignored him. He couldn't focus on them, he was still trying to fight reality. This was a set up, a part of the banquet, a cruel joke. His heart was fighting him and tightened in his chest and he found it harder and harder to breathe.

His hands were shaking, the sweater his mother had knit him falling to the floor. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? What did that mean? Why couldn't he bring himself to help?

Instead, he grabbed the sleeve of first person he recognized, dark hair and fancy suit connecting him to something he was used to, panic settling in entirely as he found himself gasping for air. Mr. Edelstein provided a comfort in familiarity despite all of his problems with him. He was a savior now... someone who could provide direction to prove him wrong; that he was misunderstanding... Or, on the other hand, to give him direction to help....that somehow, no one noticed because of innocence.

"Oh my God..."His voice felt like it wasn't coming from him. He was choking on the words and they seemed to resonate outside of his body. "Someone needs to call for help?! What happened?!" His voice was cracking. "Should I call the police? What should I do?!"

He wanted there to be a simple answer; something he could laugh about later that day. But as he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the world around him, nothing stopped.

aeron at thq

[Roderich Edelstein]

Power attracts the corruptible. Suspect any who seek it.

1010 ♦ Eduard von Bock  ♦ sorry ed

The Summer Banquet was going well. His ears buzzed with the pleased hum of his coworkers enjoying themselves, the light banter that was customary at these sorts of cocktail parties filling up the hall. Amidst laughter and the tinkling of glasses from being clanked together he heard the familiar sound of pumps traversing the parquetry, pumps he knew all too well. The wearer’s footsteps were assured, confident and powerful, and Roderich let his eyes fall on her briefly, the whole room joining him in watching her exit. A tension seemed to leave the banquet attendees as the doors closed, and suddenly the room was louder, less restrained – the clamor growing in volume.

And yet Roderich hadn’t joined in.

He checked his watch – where was that intern? The sound system wasn’t working at all and he couldn’t tell whether it was the sound things or something with the computer but whatever it was it needed to be fixed. Now. And that boy (though only a few years younger than Roderich himself, but Roderich was beginning to call everyone ‘boy’ if they were nowhere as high on the ladder as he was) Eduard von…something? Beck? Bock? The Estonian with the strangely titled (noble) German name, whatever it was, he was running late. That and the lights in the northwestern corner of the room were flickering and it was completely ruining the ambiance, in Roderich’s opinion.

He huffed loudly, tapping his foot impatiently. The boy, Eduard, was a recent hire and looked so nervous around him that Roderich wondered if raising his voice at him would cause the boy to keel over from fright. Not that being in tech gave him a plethora of opportunities for advancement, but someone with such a temperament, so prone to nervousness, was thoroughly unsuited for working for the Arcadian government - or any government. That was Rod's impression of the boy as he barely gave the paid interns in other departments much thought. His own intern period had lasted such a short time because Roderich had immediately made himself not only stand out but outperform his seniors - he could scarcely imagine himself being complacent in such a role for more than a few months.

He was about to take out his phone and call the Technical department once more when something happened. He only caught it briefly, in the periphery of his eyes, hearing the shot before he visually processed the bullet entering Taras Prihodko's head, followed by the spattering of blood and brain, and the red staining pristine white tablecloths he'd ranted to coworkers about when they were deciding the planning committee. Oddly enough, the first thought entering Roderich's head was what an absolute waste of those tablecloths before he realized the hall had grown much quieter.

He closed his eyes, frowning as the amount of work needed to be done in the coming weeks just tripled all thanks to whoever needed the councilman dead. There were memorials to make, statements to write, cards to send to family - not to mention the mess of the police inquiry into why there was a murder here. 

once upon a time he would have been panicking

like two or three years ago

And now all he felt was exhaustion as he thought of all the complications such a visible murder would bring - all the unnecessary prying into their operations, and how tired of he was of people who just so obviously needed to prove points with violence and make a mess of things for him.

So lost was he in his bitter musings that when his sleeve was grabbed, he gasped out, stunned at the sudden sensation of being touched. The surprise melted off his face as he turned to see just who it was that was tugging his arm - and met the scared, wide eyes of Eduard von Bock. The boy looked pale, frightened, his chest heaving as if he'd forgotten to breathe. Roderich almost winced, suddenly realizing that the tech department was an oasis of calm within their government - none of them would be, if not accustomed to this, as ready to deal with it properly as Roderich had to learn to. And the last thing Roderich wished to do was console some intern when there was so much to do.

"Oh my God..."

The blond technician spoke up, voice frail as Roderich took his arm away and turned to give his attention reluctantly. He waited until Eduard had gotten all the words out of himself, said in a panicked slurry, before replying, coolly as if nothing had occurred and he didn't have an intern trying to hold onto him who also happened to be a second away from a panic attack.

"When I say 'promptly' arrive, I meant now - not later." Roderich scolded, crossing his arms across his chest and ignoring the man bleeding out in the room. "And that's none of your concern, von Bock. As you can see our lights are flickering, the sound system doesn't work, and I'd like to go check the cameras - so please do not waste anymore and you can be on your way and I can return to making sure the rest of this event runs...smoother. Come along now."

He gestured for him to follow and began walking to the other part of the room, to where the fuse box was and waited expectantly by it, wondering if treating what just happened as nothing extraordinary was the right thing to do in this instance. No one had reassured him the first something of this nature had happened, when Arcadia revealed itself to be so...lawless, with violence and chaos just bubbling over the surface. He just adjusted and it worked out, after look at him now. His ability to deal with these like this got him so up so high, so fast. And von Bock, if he wanted to get anywhere, would have to do so too, ignore all the inconsistencies, the moral ambiguity (at best), the scruples. 

Just as Roderich did daily.

► kaigra ◄