Forum Thread
Clockwork Man [ROLEPLAY]
Forum-Index → Roleplay → Clockwork Man [ROLEPLAY]Niwa Atsushi
Oh. Keiki didn't seem happy to see him.
Niwa wilted. For some reason he'd thought... no he'd hoped... Even my hallucinations can't be kind to me, he thought bitterly. Guess that's life for you, huh?
"Noo. I'm just a random person who looks exactly like your ex."
They spat. He flinched as the glob of spit trickled down his face, reworking his expression into something more neutral. Less... emotion stuff was hard.
"Anyways, I'm not here for you. Your little old pal here seems hurt. I saw that funny lookin' fella run off, the one with the shiny face."
"The shiny face?" he echoed curiously. That weirdness left, replaced with... something darker. When he stared at Keiki's face, for some reason he felt like Keiki needed to be...
No! he gave his head a shake. That was weird. That needed to shut up.
Keiki's side profile was stunning in the moonlight. High cheekbones, swoopy bangs, perfect little button nose. As pretty as ever, he thought bitterly. Too pretty for little ol' Niwa, huh?
"Made me curious, y'know? I've got some...work to do, which hopefully will pay well. Then I'll see if anyone knows anythin' on our mystery fella...how are you, anyways? Work going well?"
"Keiki," he said calmly. "I need you to come with us to the Agency tomorrow."
🧣Eloi Torres's POV🌧
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"Everything is going to be okay."
Maji is now mopping up. A girl may have exploded but there's a job to be done.
Buraddo
Buraddo leant aslant the cold wall, flicking their candy cigarette. They certainly gave the look, it and the flannel. Their eyes lay glossy, the closest thing to movement from them being the dilation and undoing upon each blink.
How much longer do I have of pretending to work?
Abryn Soelare
And with a tired sigh, Abryn made his way out the exit and trudged his way home. Sure it was late, sure his home was quite a ways away from the agency, but did that really matter? Gotta get the steps in, or something like that.
After what seemed like forever, he nudged the door open and set his stuff down on a nearby table, immediately falling to the couch and closed his eyes. Ugh... What a day.
Cassidy Louvin
With a wave to Andrea, she hopped out the door with a grin and ran her way home. All she could think about was how late she was (like she wasn't late nearly every single day, anyways). She came home frantically, nearly slamming the door shut when she finally arrived and blurted out, "Hey Papa sorry I'm-"
He was already asleep, the TV still running in front of his recliner. It was a little chilly in here, was the heater not turned on? Cass quickly calmed down and grabbed a blanket for him, then made some dinner and set his portion aside so he could have leftovers tomorrow. It was quiet after she turned off the TV and dimmed the lights, but by now she was used to the loneliness. She just hoped her grandfather didn't miss seeing her too much. "'Night," Cass whispered out, walking down the hallway and into her room.
"I need you to come with us to the Agency tomorrow."
Keiki paled. "Whatever happened, I didn't do it. I'm innocent I swear!"
They looked nervous. "Am in any trouble? Do I need to call my lawyer....again? Ughh, I promised you I wouldn't pull anymore heists, and I kept true to my word, so whatever bank has been robbed, it sure as hell wasn't me, 'kay?"
Hiding her mouth behind her hand and shifting her pitch, she not only disguises her voice but also makes it sound further away than she is. So, with this trick, she shouts:
"Help! Someone fell over in this alley!"

You know the first rule in combat? Shoot them before they shoot you.
Niwa Atsushi
Niwa frowned deeply. Has Keiki fallen into a life of delinquency and crime?
Huh... weird. He didn't remember them being like that. His memories of Keiki were of reading Mary Shelley and leafing through English textbooks. He could even feel the dreamy feel of the pages against his fingertips as they slipped off and fluttered softly down. The touch of Keiki's hand on his...
All of that was fading as he stared into Keiki's eyes now, devoid of all that light and warmth he recalled from those sunny afternoons. Even their face seemed to have lost the thought he'd once seen in it.
They're like everyone else, he realised, everything dulling once more. Nothing like the Keiki I want.
"It's not about any of the... stuff you've done or been up to. It's just that this was an assault... one that needs investigating. We should-"
A voice. He went rigid.
Immediately Niwa ran it over in his head. The tone... the sound... the vibrations were off. He blinked and the voice was stored in his head. He could work through that later.
"Come on, Keiki," he urged. "Even if you don't like me, help me get Eloi back to the Agency."
"It's not about any of the... stuff you've done or been up to."
They sighed unhappily. "About that....I, umm-" Keiki looked dejected. "....I didn't like, want to do it at first, y'know? This whole crime business. It wasn't entirely....my choice."
"I don't want you to think of me as a criminal.."
A tear shone in their eye for a moment.
"Even if you don't like me, help me get Eloi back to the Agency."
Keiki glared at him through blurry, tear-covered eyes.
"....you really think that, huh?" They muttered.
"Sure. Whatever. Lead the way, Niwa-face."
God, this place is boring. I should-
Suddenly,
Megami
"I- I'm so sorry, I was tired and I overslept and-... Fuck, I missed orientation, didn't I?"
A nearby detective chimed in drily. "It never happened. There was a fistfight."
Megami swiveled her head. "Head Detective Jemu. I'm surprised you're still here if that's the case. You tend to be..." She felt her lips purse. "flitty."
"I'm flattered."
Narrator
They returned Eloi to the Agency... but along the way, they were intercepted by a friendly neighbourhood Nora, who told them to 'get their asses home'. She added on a smile and an "or else", but you didn't hear it from me. Eloi was deposited at his apartment, and the two dumbasses returned to their respective residences.
And thus begins Chapter One of our story...
Day One
---
October 7th, 2071. 0500 hours.
The lights must've gone out in the middle of the night. Blackouts were slowly creeping towards the city centre. It was to be expected. They would be on in a few minutes.
Oh god.
His face smashed into the wall. Gasping for air, he pushed himself up off the floor, but couldn't manage to get his leg untangled from what had tripped him. oh god oh god oh god- It was a monster. It was holding onto him, dragging him into darkness and he couldn't escape no matter how much he fought how much he writhed in its arms-
No... it was a coat. Papa's coat.
With a choking sound he gave his leg a yank and immediately the back of his head collided with the wall.
He panted, pain and primal terror warring on the priority list in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought against both sensations.
You're safe. Nothing hurts. She's coming to get you.
When he opened his eyes, the lights had come back on.
For a moment he sat there, just staring into the wall, into the blankets on the floor which had apparently gotten tangled around his legs as he slept. It was...
The tingling wore away. He got to his feet, heartbeat still hammering, fast as a rabbits'- and nearly stumbled again.
Narcisse made his way into the bathroom, holding onto the walls.
Staring into the mirror, he focused on making his expression calm. You're fine, you're fine, you're fine- He splashed his face with water and finally allowed himself to rest on the counter. He could hear his heartbeat. Steady, quiet thumps.
Narcisse checked his watch.
5:01 AM.
He heaved a sigh and finally allowed himself to collapse onto the floor. The tiles bit into his knees, but he found he didn't really care. His head was still screaming at him and he had work in a few hours.
Alright. Time to get a move on.
---
By 7am he was dressed and ready to go, sipping his usual cup of earl grey and checking the tabloids. He found gossip rather distasteful, but it was important to keep up on modern pop culture, both for his work, and so that he could proudly tell Nora that "sounds like a skill issue" was a phrase that went out of popularity last century.
Unfortunately, some dumb teenagers were planning to bring said phrase back, judging by one of the features. He frowned at the quotation. The Kurai model, huh? Androids of that make are smart enough... am I possibly getting old?
Ah, it was time to be getting off to work. He really should keep better track of time.
He exited his apartment and took the stairs. The elevator had been broken for weeks. Ever since the last family moved out, the place was quickly becoming... well, a dump.
The landlady passed him as he walked down. He gave her a nod and a smile. She just stared at him with grey, empty eyes.
It was a fifteen minute walk to the agency. He took his time, studying his surroundings. It was rather hard to tell who was human these days. Even in the slums where people accumulated, androids were still the predominant species. You couldn't tell on a first encounter. After all, they were made to be as indistinguishable from humans as possible.
That smiling lady selling flowers, for instance. He knew she was a Kuma. She waved at him and he waved back. A person came up to her stand and she started up cheerful conversation he could barely make out as he walked on.
They seemed just like anyone else. The old stereotypes of robots- metal, awkward, none of that had any weight on how the androids acted.
If you went by old stereotypes, you might assume his landlady was an android. But he knew... personally... that she was as human as it got.
Her eyes were so empty...
A group of children played by a set of trash cans. One jumped along a trash bag, trying to reach the windowsill of some old office building. As he passed, they all stood up straight and waved at him. One grinned- he was missing a tooth, and behind that, some wiring.
He'll need to go into a mech-doctor for a replacement, Narcisse noted.
The only real way to tell someone was an android was through an empathy test, No androids allowed there- only human beings were capable of empathy to the point of self-sacrifice. It was an evolutionary paradox. It made no sense in the grand scheme of things.
They couldn't feel empathy, so of course it made sense why androids weren't built with any sort of 'morality core'. That would be dangerous... if androids could feel real hatred or sense of injustice, then they would want revenge on people. If they couldn't care, but they knew they'd be wronged... well, that would only lead to mass genocide.
Androids had kept humans alive, purely out of self interest. They needed them to fill certain roles in society. Besides, people were weak, powerless; they were no threat to the affairs of state.
The idea of an android who cared... that was dangerous. An android with emotions, or one who at least believed they had some close approximation of it...
Narcisse shivered, though not because of the cold.
He stopped at the concrete steps and gazed up into the Clockwork Detective Agency. At work... at last. With a sigh, he entered into the building. He would have to make his way to the conference room, where he'd be organising today's cases with his fellow Head Detectives.
For some reason, as the door closed behind him, he felt as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Some choice was out of his hands now.
He tried not to think about it.
"Get back here, girl! Don't you dare walk out on us, you hear me? You're going to come back and apologise to your mother-"
"I'm leaving!" She shouted back.
She heard Mrs. Buivis take in a sharp breath, ready to start yelling anew. Andreja slammed the door behind her and stormed down the steps, breaking into a run as the gate approached. The man standing by it- Nickerson- merely let her pass.
Sympathy shone in his eyes. She hated it.
"Go tell her that she can suck eggs!" she yelled at him. "You too! The whole lot of you!"
Before he could say anything stupid, she jumped onto her bike and revved it up. With a bang she was off, leaving the mansion and- apparently the adrenaline- behind.
Exhaustion swept over her when she hit a red light. She stared into the bulk of the garbage truck in front of her, fingers tightening on the bars of her motorcycle.
Her phone started ringing. The Cow, the contact read. She hit Ignore. Before it could start up again, she typed up a text.
Gotta work today. Don't bother me.
She slipped the phone into her back pocket and started up the machine, following the truck through the green light.
Before long, she'd reached the agency and was clambering up the steps. Janitor work. What would Kaya say about her now, she wondered.
🧣Eloi Torres's POV🌧️
“Did you fall asleep on the job? Knowing you, you probably did, you nitwit!”
“I– I’m sorry, I– no… you see, I…”
“Just explain it already, jeez! Stop stammering so much.”
“S-Sorry… I mean, umm… I was investigating something that… me and my friend thought we… saw and heard and, I think, someone or something must have… knocked me out?”
“You probably imagined it, Eloi. Do you even HAVE any friends?”
“I–”
. . .
Well, that was probably how the conversation WOULD have gone. But Eloi Torres didn’t live with his parents anymore. He’d moved into his own place, and he scarcely remembered how he got back here.
I think… Niwa… carried me. And someone else. I don’t know who that was…
He strained, and strained, struggling to remember, but he couldn’t. He must have been unconscious throughout the whole deal…
Oh, well. He had to go to work now. It was morning, after all. Thankfully he’d woken up in time.
…should he?
I really shouldn’t, but…
It couldn’t hurt, right?
He found himself slipping a few of his comic books into his bag. Buried under everything else, of course. So that nobody could see it. Of course.
Maybe… Niwa would want to see them? Oh, gosh. Maybe. Unless he was just humoring him. Or maybe Niwa didn't exist. Yoooo, plot twist, he WAS imaginary!
No, you goof! You met him yesterday! At least… I think I did… his hand felt real. Did I dream him?
Argh, nothing was making sense. Who had carried him home?? Had anything that happened yesterday even happened? Forget this, he had to head into work.
♟️Laurence Walton's POV📖
He tried not to grimace. "Fine. It was fine. It seems like a respectable place."
"Good! I trust that you conducted yourself well." He could almost feel his father’s breath on his neck, eyes glowering and forming slits…
"...yes."
"Good, good. Maybe your mother and I should come visit sometime. See how things are going?"
Laurence's heart pounded. He sincerely hoped that they wouldn't be notified of what happened yesterday. That orientation was canceled because of his own foolishness... Yes, maybe that petulant girl started it, but... He could have walked away, dammit, why didn't he just walk away?
"That-- could be a reasonable idea." He tried to focus on the comb he was holding as he attended to his hair instead of his father's gaze, trying not to look too nervous as he carefully replied.
"Although… I know you and Mother are busy. You know what you always say. Work is first priority.”
You can’t afford to care about anything else.
“Precisely, Laurence. Glad you have your priorities in order. Is everything alright? You seem a little tense.”
Did he?! He had to stay calm. He must not show it. He must not–
“Oh, yes. I’m alright. Just a little nervous about this new arrangement.” Oh, the way the lies just slipped out. So easily…
Laurence suddenly felt his father’s hand on his shoulder, his eyes drilling into his own. He immediately froze up, stiffening absolutely. The comb clattered to the floor.
“Laurence…”
“Yes… Father?”
“You can’t afford to be nervous about it. If you’re going to be someone in this world, you have to be ready for anything. Do you understand?”
“I…”
He felt the hand clench tighter on his shoulder. “I said, do you understand?”
His father smiled ever so gently as he spoke those belligerent words. Yet Laurence could feel them dripping with a threatening malice. He knew what was behind that smile, what had been behind it so many times before… what was behind it now…
“Yes, Father. I understand.”
He felt the hand relinquish its grip, and he could breathe steadily once again, finding himself rubbing his aching shoulder where the hand had made its mark. “Good. Now, hurry and finish getting ready. You don’t want to be late.”
All Laurence could do was nod, as he picked the comb up off the floor, and put it back in its place. He finished preparing to leave, a little more eager to do so if only to get away from his father.
Just what would he do… if he knew what happened yesterday?
…
You already know the answer, don’t you?
Laurence nervously felt at the places he had been injured merely a day ago. Had he covered it up well enough? Would his father be able to tell?
If he came to visit, he’d know I’m stuck on janitor duty. He’d want to know why. And then…
No, he couldn’t think about it. He just… had to get to work.
He found his way to the agency with a sigh that he allowed himself to relish in, only because there was probably no one to hear it at the time. When he opened this door, he’d be forced into cleaning duty. Charming.
That wasn’t the worst part, though. He was fine with the work. What was really the worst part… was that he had to do it with the girl that nearly cost him his whole future.
It took all the willpower he could muster to arrive there and to look at her with an expression of neutrality, rather than pure, unadulterated loathing.
“Hello, Andreja. I guess we should just get this started. Let’s go find the cleaning supplies.”
🌹Cadence Laurier’s POV🎯
An obnoxious alarm blared its tune at a disproportionately early hour, as a certain someone slammed her powerful hand down, putting an immediate end to it.
A careful unfolding and shuffling of clothing. A red coating upon a waiting pair of lips, that curled into a smile, showing rows of pristine, gleaming white teeth. Those glittering, green cat-like eyes with perfectly dusted unusually long lashes.
Everything she could possibly need, all perfectly packed, organized, prepared, well ahead of time. Books, papers, pencils, pens, numerous office supplies, countless planners full of her neatly outlined plans.
She was ready to take on her workplace and all that it required of her, just as she always was. There was just one thing bothering her in each powerful step that she took.
…no, Michon was probably alright. Probably. He could take care of himself. She had to get down to business.
Besides, it didn’t really matter if something happened to him, anyway, did it? There were multiple Head Detectives. It would be difficult to find a replacement if something were to happen to one of them… but… they’d manage.
That was how life worked in the world today. Everyone could so easily be replaced, in the blink of an eye. Humans as individuals ceased to have any meaning. In a world so heavily dominated by their mechanical counterparts… was there really any need for human beings at all?
Ah, how truly existential. She must not let herself dwell on such things… she had plenty of work to do today, after all…
🍓Cali Mabey’s POV💟
Well, he wanted it to feel that way. But it just felt so lonely. This place was so full of people, but he felt like he was always just so busy with his work. He got into the business to help people, and felt more lonely than ever before.
Guess he might as well succumb to the inevitable. But, hey, maybe he’d actually get the chance to actually talk to people today!!
🥽Suzume Fujimori’s POV🧪
“Dad. Come on. I thought I told you to stop calling me that. I’m an adult now, remember?” But she was smiling.
“Sorry, sorry. I keep forgetting. But how has it been?”
“It’s been great, as usual! I’ve gotten to analyze so much crime scene material! It’s quite fascinating, really. I should tell you about the latest case. You see, there was this…”
“...and that’s how I helped the detectives narrow down the potential suspects with the help of just a little physical evidence! It’s amazing just how much people leave behind without even thinking about it. It’s almost like there's this sort of… print that we leave on everything around us, well… we do, literally… in everything we do… and…”
“That’s very interesting, Suzume. We’re proud of you, but…”
“Have you… met anyone?”
Suzume’s eyes flicked towards the wall. “Well, I… oh, would you look at the time. I should probably be going!”
“Aw, alright. Tell us more about your research, sweetie. We’d love to hear it!”
“Okay. I will!”
“But… could you… try talking to some people at your work? I think it could be really good for you.”
Suzume inhaled. “...okay. Maybe. I– better get going.”
She dashed out the door before she could be questioned any further.
I love my dads, but… I wish they’d stop worrying about me.
…
Maybe she SHOULD try talking to some people at her workplace. But… she wasn’t so sure she wanted to. She wasn’t so sure she was ready to.
It was so much easier to just not form those bonds. So much easier to just bathe in the simple enjoyment that was the consumption of knowledge, and ideas… of how the universe worked. How everything worked.
Just… not socializing.
People walking by, smiling, laughing. Going to hang out at various places. Doing various things together.
Maybe she sometimes wondered what that was like, but…
But how are you supposed to know someone really wants to be there? Does that even matter? And besides…
…
But did she… if she wanted it… if she… didn’t want it… if she…
BLAGH.
Oh, forget this. Too much thinking. About the wrong things. She headed to her work station, just like she always did. But…
…
Oh, no, forget it. Forget it.
She should just focus on her work.
📚SAWYER LAURENS’S POV🍭
Oh, right. Their apartment. Woopdeboop! They would have to head to the agency soon!! What exciting new mysteries awaited?? That had nothing to do with The Force or true pudding or some magical quest or something along those lines??
Well, anyway, they’d have to get their Scooby Doo A-game on.
Sawyer
“Huh. Where was the thingy again?”
Wow, they were clearly amazing at their job.
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"Everything is going to be okay."
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Aleksandr didn't want to get up.
But he did, anyways. He always did, eventually. He couldn't sleep through the dozens of alarms he'd set for himself, anyways.
As he got up, per usual, he cursed himself for the amount of foresight past Aleksandr had.
Eh, better for him anyways. He stopped cursing himself.
As he brushed his teeth, he cursed himself for the fact that another day had passed, with nothing accomplished.
But he wasn't fired yet. He stopped cursing himself.
He toasted a piece of bread, spread jam over it, then walked out of the house, grabbing his jacket as he did.
It was dark. That was fine. Aleksandr preferred the agency over his lonely home anyways.
He struggled to pull his jacket on, as he walked through the streets, towards the clockwork agency.
He never bothered to look at those around him. Why should he? He didn't care.
He pushed the doors to the agency open, finishing off the last of his toast.
"And another day, back here..."
He gave a nod to the intern- the one who had gotten into hot water on their first day, and the investigative assistant(Laury and Andrew... or something? He didn't know. Aleks was terrible with names.)-, and proceeded to head to his office, yawning.
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Iliya Orlov Volkov
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Iliya was at the agency at the crack of dawn- he set alarms for an ungodly early time, getting up at 4:30, and getting to the agency at 5:00. Iliya rarely slept longer than 5 hours, anyways- his friends back home would always make fun of him, saying his height was because of his lack of sleep.
His mom would yell at him, saying his writings and scripts and reading and photography portfolios were worthless in the ‘real world’.
Iliya didn't mind. he knew it was all going to blow over eventually.
He was completely unsure of what to do, once he got to the actual detective agency.
So he just kind of awkwardly stood in front of the agency in the slowly-brightening landscape, hugging his camera bag to his chest.
After pacing for a few moments, he entered the building.
wickedness?
Or is it
weakness?
You decide.
The unmistakeable sound of an alarm clock. The one that wakes Stella De Caelo up every morning for work... and even though she's mentally fit for a woman of her age, even people like her still need a little time to wake up properly. For a few seconds, her gaze went to the alarm clock: Analogue and silvery-white in texture, with some black patterns on it. It being a carefully crafted Italian masterpiece (source: whoever made the clock) is the only reason why she hasn't chucked that thing against the wall yet.
The morning routine of the detective is short and concise: Her closet only contained four outfits, the same identical ones in fact. Those were the clothes she typically wore, only deviating outside of work. For those occasions, different clothes further back are used. Though this time, she had to use the last clean one, the commotion last night making it too late for her to wash the other three.
Concise, short, planned. In a span of ten minutes, Stella was already at the front door, checking her belongings and her outfit It was a nervous tick more than being thorough. With that, she leaves her apartment and then the complex... she lives decently and it is okay that way.
The sun hasn't risen yet and the traffic was also still in it's warm-up phase, so there was not enough commotion on the streets to be cautious. Though while others would daydream or think about the day ahead, Stella's analytical eye would not allow such liberties. And neither does her theorycrafting: "Mh. The store has new items in stock. Hm, their movements are a little... rigid. That car has been standing here for a week now."
Her walk to work is always scattered with constant pick-ups of unnecessary details and she would pick up on every single one. It is bad enough that she does not even think about last night just yet, she has analyzed that occurence over night but deemed it "trivial": Her word for "not important enough to think about". Thankfully, she only lives ten minutes away, so her mind isn't cluttered up too much by then.
6:55 AM. Enough time for a little chit-chat, if needed, and a cup of water before the assembly starts.

You know the first rule in combat? Shoot them before they shoot you.
Abryn Soelare
Ah the joys of waking up at an ungodly hour to go to work in the morning, what fun. The fact that he carelessly plopped himself down on the couch and sept there instead of, oh I don't know, the comfort of his own bed made the situation ten times worse. His back was killing him, he could hardly see a thing with the immense disorientation, and he missed his alarm.
Come on man, get it together... You haven't missed a day since you started working at that place.
So he had... 5 minutes to get his s**t together, and pray he got a quick ride there. Got it, that was... Workable. Abryn quickly got ready and headed out the door, seemingly not a care in the world about his tardiness. A cab was called and upon arrival at the agency, he simply turned his originally broken down demeanor into a more neutral and... Work-friendly one. Walked past the same people he did nearly every day, walked to his desk, sat down and waited for whatever the day had to offer. God it got boring around here sometimes. Funny how he said that considering the circumstances.
Cassidy Louvin
Cass, as opposed to many, was up almost immediately after her alarm went off and already rolling out of bed. She was in a relatively good mood, humming to herself as she got ready. With a yawn, she entered the kitchen to make herself some breakfast, only to find the stove was already going hot and a scent was starting to flow through the house. Mmm pancakes, a timeless dish that never seemed to fail. "Oh! Papa I was going to-"
"No no, it's alright Cassie, I wanted to do something special for today. Thank you for dinner last night, by the way, sorry I fell asleep so early." Her grandfather interjected, turning around with a smile as he shuffled the batter on the pan. It was always that smile, it was so contagious and Cass couldn't help but to return it. "I was runnin' late so I just made some anyways... Hope you... Like it." Cass gave a defeated laugh, then sat down at the table once the food was offered. "Thank you for breakfast! Been so long since
With that, the two enjoyed their meal and a nice chat before Cass got up to clean before she left. Before she stepped out of the door though, she was stopped by opened arms and that sweet smile once again. "Have a good day, Cassie. You know I'm proud of you."
The hug seemed to last forever. Cass nearly cried actually, she didn't even realize how heavy her shoulders were that morning until she heard those words. "You too-" Cass whispered, being cut off by her own sobs that were being held in her throat. She let go before they could come spewing out though, waving a goodbye before heading off to the agency. Unfortunately, her strength didn't even last the walk there, she came in looking far more distant than usual but still keeping up her iconic smile. Just had a little muddy eyes, is all.
Andreja Buivis
"Alrighty, sweet cheeks. Here we are. Ready for your first big day on the big kids' side of the playground?" Andreja grinned at Laurence. "Don't worry... you'll be fine. You've got Angie after all."
She laughed, flipping her hair. Putting her hands behind her head, she glanced back at him. "So, what'dya know about this place?"
Narcisse Michon
Narcisse slipped inside the conference room, and began sorting through the papers that the secretaries had prepared for him. Here it was. Cases.
He grimaced. The usual array, he suspected. Small time thieves, kids with a bit too much money looking for attention... The blue page markers indicating a case of theft appeared predominant this morning. What a shame, a tough one might be a chance for him to get out of this place, at least for a while.
But as he sorted through the files, he noticed a few red ones. Those were dangerous.
He moved the blue to the side and began examining the red. Right there at the top- Murder in big bold letters and a caption.
Y Rhoddwr.
Ah. A murder in that city? You didn't see that every day. And for them to outsource it to a little agency in Trydanfaid...
He had to admit he was intrigued. He put it off to the side and began filing through the rest, eager to get back to the more interesting cases.
Small time thievery... He thought for a minute, and then wrote down the assignment. Niwa Atsushi, Cassidy Louvin, Iliya Orlov Volkov.
If there were any last bits of detective blood in that little Atsushi's veins, this should be no challenge. It'd be the boy's first real task- leading a couple of freshies through a simple purse snatcher's case would be a good opportunity for him to improve his standing in the organisation. Plus, he was intrigued by some of the names on there. The Volkovs...
What business did old Volkov have sending his kid here? It was tempting to put his own name on there, or at least Nora's-
He made a couple notes for his secretary, and assigned their profiler as Lydia Satou. There, simple enough.
A break in. Jing Yu, Cali Mabey, Andreja Buivis, and Laurence Walton. Relatively safe case, there wasn't really any kind of danger for the kids. Would probably be good experience, and maybe an eye-opener for the Buivis kid. She didn't belong here, and he wanted to make sure she knew it. Satou could profile for them as well.
Next on the list...
Ah, a red one. Somebody pissed off someone important, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the graphic images. Stella De Caelo, Jace Mawer, ... His hand hovered over the paper, wondering if he should put his own name down. He was tempted. But...
"Buraddo, would you look this over? I think you might be suited for it." He pushed it towards their end of the table.
cup of English breakfast tea, she got changed into her work clothes and went to make some breakfast.
2 Fried eggs, bacon and a piece of toast, with tea on the side.
A perfect day if ZhaoXi hadn't been late. After scoffing down the food, she threw on a coat and exited her apartment, locking the door and slipping the key inside a pocket. If she hurried, she would either be right on time of 2 minutes late, how convenient. ZhaoXi cycled to work, because a car gets stuck in heavy traffic and walking is too much work for someone as lazy as herself, although she could use the exercise.
The trip to the work building was smooth, generally speaking, that is. Was the price of missing 2 green lights for sips of tea was debatable. ZhaoXi glanced at her watch, she was late by three minutes, dammit. She sighed, accepting that as an inevitable thing in life and went over to her desk, which reminded her that she hasn't even introduced herself to her fellow colleagues.
Socialising... every introvert's worst nightmare.
♟Laurence Walton’s POV📖
“Sweet cheeks?! Don’t make this weird.” He huffed, looking away from her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing his bewildered expression.
Perfect. I can’t believe I’ll have to endure an entire month of this.
“Big kids’ size of the playground? Don’t be ridiculous. How… old are you?” He squinted, actually considering it for the first time. Considering she actually seemed to be more experienced working this place, he thought it feasible she was at least a young adult. But she behaved like a juvenile delinquent. “Yes. I’ll be perfectly alright, Angie.”
Blagh. Would he have to call her that stupid nickname?
"So, what'dya know about this place?"
“Oh, not much. Mostly just researched the basic layout, how it was founded, who the people here work for, what they strive to do, various information regarding past cases… whatever I was able to find that wasn’t heavily classified information. So, not much. Why? Is there anything you wanted to know? Haven’t you… worked here a while?”
Wait, why was he bothering with this? “Regardless, that’s not important. We should get down to business.”
Janitor duty. He shuddered. With HER. Augh, hopefully this month will go by quickly. At least I wasn’t kicked from the program… but if my parents find out… it won’t be any better.
🧣Eloi Torres’s POV🌧
“Oh, alright, Torres. What’s the matter? This better be important.” She spun around on her chair, red glasses gleaming as she did so. “I’m in the middle of something right now.”
Oh. Oh shoot. Now he was regretting this. “Ummm… a-actually, I- it’s not that important. I’m sorry!! I- I can handle it myself, I-”
“No, do tell me! If you found it so urgent that you had to interrupt a Head Detective instead of asking literally anyone else, then it MUST be important.”
Crap.
🌹Cadence Laurier’s POV🎯
“It’s… it’s really… well, would- you ha-happen to know where… Niwa is? We were… going to work on something together…”
“Work on what? A school project? You sound like a child, Torres.” She smirked at him, clutching the side of her face, long red nails digging into her skin. “Why don’t you go look for him yourself? You’re wasting precious time. My time.”
“Th…that’s a good point, I just… thought, well… you’re a Head Detective here, I thought if anyone knew, it would be…”
“I’m flattered,” Cadence replied dryly. “Now, run along and find him, will you?”
“Y-Yes… ma’am…”
“And, Torres?”
He slowly turned around. “...yes?”
“The next time you come in here, interrupting me while I’m working without a remarkably good reason, it’s your funeral. Got it?”
“I- I understand. S-s…sorry… ma’am…”
“I’m so glad we understand each other.”
She gave him a friendly smile that felt anything but friendly. “Now, get out.”
SLAM!
🧣Eloi Torres’s POV🌧
He wasn’t even sure if he should go find Niwa. He might just be bothering him, too, after all… And he needed to work… but… what had even happened yesterday? He had to figure that out...
°*•★ • ° ★ : ; . • ° ★ : . ; ° ♪ °*•★ • ° ★ : ; . • ° ★ : . ; ° ♪

°*•★ • ° ★ : ; . • ° ★ : . ; ° ♪ °*•★ • ° ★ : ; . • ° ★ : . ; ° ♪
"Everything is going to be okay."
The Agency.
Keiki shuddered. They tried to avoid the place as much as possible, but....Niwa had asked them to come.
They sighed. It was so hard to say no to-
"...not now, Keiki. The past is the past." They muttered angrily to themselves.
They took a deep breath in and-
Lana Moreau
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
"Why did I choose to wear high heels...oh my gawd." She whispered to herself. "Get it together, Keiki."
She made her way to a large oak door that read:
CONFERENCE ROOM
This was it, right? The place that Niwa told her to go, right?
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
"....'allo?"
Paperwork. Eugh. disgusting.
Aleks kept reading through the documents, already tired of this.
wickedness?
Or is it
weakness?
You decide.
Narcisse Michon
He continued watching Buraddo, even as he scribbled down a few names on an orange case, not really paying attention. Aleksandr Konstantin, Sawyer Laurens, Adrik Volkov.
Orange cases usually weren't too hard. They were suicide cases- that were reported on years later (usually by a relative) as "murder". It was fairly common for stuff like that to come in. When people were grieving, they looked for anyone to blame.
He was confident in Detective Konstantin to treat this case respectfully and...
Huh. He briefly reconsidered his choice, then shrugged. Ah, to hell with it. This wouldn't be the first time his more "eccentric" employees earned them a scathing bit in the paper. Their reputation was in the mud anyway- wasn't much further they could drag it.
Slam! He nearly jumped. Oh- there was Laurier. Perfectly on time, down to the minute, as was to be expected.
Narcisse hid his smile and offered her a nod. "Welcome back. How was your night, Laurier?"
Then... "Allo?"
His head snapped over his shoulder and he turned to stare at... a young woman?
Ah.
"Hello, informant," he greeted. It could be no one else. Only the eccentric (person? People? Random organisation dedicated to the glory of high heels?) who called themselves the understudies of Clockwork Detective Agency's Oracle would have the gall to break into the Conference Room... and before hours too. "To what might I owe the pleasure?"
Andreja Buivis
"I'm eighteen, babe. How about you?" She grinned. "Lemme guess. You're 35, coming back to this Agency after you flunked outta your philosophy course at Big Shot University."
Andreja laughed a little to herself. Who was he trying to impress? Her? She figured he'd be done with that bit by now. Maybe he needed another beat down like yesterday in order to finally learn- no one cared here. Either you could do it or you couldn't, and that was all that mattered.
"Yeah I've worked here a while. Been here too long, if you know what I mean." She gestured to a collage of... weird sh*t on the wall. "Did you ever read about Kubo Atsushi?" She grinned. "Founder of the institute. All that stuff? It's on him."