*** BlackHat has joined 333.07.333.06 <BlackHat> ^J help <BlackHat> help <BlackHat> J <BlackHat> Official business with Black Hat only. Don't waste my time.
[Don't mind the flames, Flug. He's simply disposing of trash.]
He can remember the event itself for all I care. But your face will be gone.
[There's no question that Virgil will not be released from his employ. No one is fired or let go from the Black Hat Organization. They are only terminated. And given the impossibility of that here in Ryslig....
At long last, Black Hat finally seems to notice his arms again. His lip curls into a irritated sneer - ruined. The shirt's ruined, no doubt. Huffing, he slides his hand out from under Flug's and makes his way back to the chair.]
Get to work, Flug.
[But the contract. The contract, of course. They will have to discuss that, won't they? Flug did not care for Virgil's hiring, impromptu as it was, and Black Hat won't tolerate his judgement being questioned.]
[Black Hat has a point, Virgil could recall the fight without dwelling on the moment prior. The memory soured as it was, he probably wouldn't even want to. It's a relief to see his master head back to the chair and issue that familiar order. Flug moves to resume unbuttoning the shirt just as he started, reaching for the clothe once more.]
"Yes, Sir?" [He can talk and work but Black Hat has his undivided attention regardless.]
Why do you disagree with my hiring Virgil Alexandrescu?
[He leans back in the chair, undoing his tie as he speaks. If Flug has a problem, Black Hat needs to hear it, and then quash it so that the organization has a united front.]
"He just." [Flug struggles with the urge to both write it off and find the right words.]
"Doesn't.. strike me as... Organization material." [That's not a sufficient answer though. Lying to smoothe over Black Hat's ego won't help, not at this stage of things. Flug really will have to treat this like a proper report.]
"He hasn't had any formal schooling."
[He didn't dedicate his LIFE to getting YOUR attention. He didn't put in the work!]
"Seems to even be treating the idea like I'M his boss."
[As if he, FLUG, needed help! They don't even have as many customers here! His unbuttoning starts to turn slightly more frantic.]
"If just anyone c-can waltz up and get hired..." [Then does Flug's position really have the prestige he brags it does? His job that encompassed his entire identity and self worth? Did being the only human to last the longest in Black Hat's household hold any weight at all?]
[Black Hat listens to it all, not once interrupting. Indeed, his only action is to help the unbuttoning process, reaching behind himself to undo the buttons beneath his wings that hold his shirt in place there. Once Flug finishes, Black Hat is silent a bit longer. And then:]
You're right.
[Because Flug is. Under normal circumstances, Virgil would never have been hired on.]
He's not worthy of it. But I had no choice. Kill him, he'll just spring back right as rain with the fog, able to blabber whatever he wants.
[Black Hat shucks off his vest.]
So. I'm binding him. A short leash, one he clearly doesn't object to. One he'll lose if he steps out of line. Not for long, though. If he does that, I'll put it back on again once we are free - and it will be a noose.
[He growls it out - it's clear Black Hat is not anywhere near pleased with the situation.]
For now, he'll be your drudge. Do what you want with him.
"I am?" [If Flug had a nickel for the amount of times he heard that so plainly. It does abate the doctor's frustrations, at least a little, it isn't often Black Hat would be so considerate of him expressing such doubts. This felt less like an scolding and more of an actual conversation.
With those final clasps undone, the shirt is removed and they can begin. Wet clothe meets the first wound to flush out any debris.]
"I have no use for a drudge." [More to the point, Flug loathed anyone getting in the way and touching his experiments, costing him valuable progress. The man wasn't a hatbot. Flug can't trust a botanist mechanic with no training to handle his equipment, moreover make someone who didn't necesarrily want to be hired respect the authority of a position they did nothing to achieve. Anything involving coding was out, nothing with complex formulas, think, think, what use could Virgil provide?]
"I'll set him to errands. Research gathering." [Though Flug will admit he sometimes enjoyed going out on those for some fresh air; mores the pity.]
"Keep to his current projects. See what merit can be found in them." [Drain the fluid, clean water, rinse and repeat.]
[A single affirming nod. Black Hat's not going to deny the truth of the matter solely to beat down Flug's ego; that would be counterproductive. He's still displeased over the exposed face matter, but for now his temper has cooled.]
You'll figure something out. [Both a command and a commentary; of course Flug will. It's not something Black Hat need concern himself with unless Flug spectacularly fails - or Virgil refuses to take orders from the arachne. In the latter case, well, Black Hat will straighten matters out.
He digs his claws into the chair arms, hissing at the flushing. It's not painful, per say, not compared to other times he's been injured, but it's a strange sensation nonetheless. And usually the punctures aren't in his arms.]
We'll also take advantage of his unique monster properties. [He taps his free hand on the armrest.] Remember that, Flug, I'll put that in his contract so he can't weasel out of it.
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evilopportunityemployer) wrote2019-04-25 07:38 pm
no subject
He can remember the event itself for all I care. But your face will be gone.
[There's no question that Virgil will not be released from his employ. No one is fired or let go from the Black Hat Organization. They are only terminated. And given the impossibility of that here in Ryslig....
At long last, Black Hat finally seems to notice his arms again. His lip curls into a irritated sneer - ruined. The shirt's ruined, no doubt. Huffing, he slides his hand out from under Flug's and makes his way back to the chair.]
Get to work, Flug.
[But the contract. The contract, of course. They will have to discuss that, won't they? Flug did not care for Virgil's hiring, impromptu as it was, and Black Hat won't tolerate his judgement being questioned.]
Doctor?
no subject
"Yes, Sir?" [He can talk and work but Black Hat has his undivided attention regardless.]
no subject
[He leans back in the chair, undoing his tie as he speaks. If Flug has a problem, Black Hat needs to hear it, and then quash it so that the organization has a united front.]
no subject
"Doesn't.. strike me as... Organization material." [That's not a sufficient answer though. Lying to smoothe over Black Hat's ego won't help, not at this stage of things. Flug really will have to treat this like a proper report.]
"He hasn't had any formal schooling."
[He didn't dedicate his LIFE to getting YOUR attention. He didn't put in the work!]
"Seems to even be treating the idea like I'M his boss."
[As if he, FLUG, needed help! They don't even have as many customers here! His unbuttoning starts to turn slightly more frantic.]
"If just anyone c-can waltz up and get hired..." [Then does Flug's position really have the prestige he brags it does? His job that encompassed his entire identity and self worth? Did being the only human to last the longest in Black Hat's household hold any weight at all?]
"What will he even do."
no subject
You're right.
[Because Flug is. Under normal circumstances, Virgil would never have been hired on.]
He's not worthy of it. But I had no choice. Kill him, he'll just spring back right as rain with the fog, able to blabber whatever he wants.
[Black Hat shucks off his vest.]
So. I'm binding him. A short leash, one he clearly doesn't object to. One he'll lose if he steps out of line. Not for long, though. If he does that, I'll put it back on again once we are free - and it will be a noose.
[He growls it out - it's clear Black Hat is not anywhere near pleased with the situation.]
For now, he'll be your drudge. Do what you want with him.
no subject
With those final clasps undone, the shirt is removed and they can begin. Wet clothe meets the first wound to flush out any debris.]
"I have no use for a drudge." [More to the point, Flug loathed anyone getting in the way and touching his experiments, costing him valuable progress. The man wasn't a hatbot. Flug can't trust a botanist mechanic with no training to handle his equipment, moreover make someone who didn't necesarrily want to be hired respect the authority of a position they did nothing to achieve. Anything involving coding was out, nothing with complex formulas, think, think, what use could Virgil provide?]
"I'll set him to errands. Research gathering." [Though Flug will admit he sometimes enjoyed going out on those for some fresh air; mores the pity.]
"Keep to his current projects. See what merit can be found in them." [Drain the fluid, clean water, rinse and repeat.]
no subject
You'll figure something out. [Both a command and a commentary; of course Flug will. It's not something Black Hat need concern himself with unless Flug spectacularly fails - or Virgil refuses to take orders from the arachne. In the latter case, well, Black Hat will straighten matters out.
He digs his claws into the chair arms, hissing at the flushing. It's not painful, per say, not compared to other times he's been injured, but it's a strange sensation nonetheless. And usually the punctures aren't in his arms.]
We'll also take advantage of his unique monster properties. [He taps his free hand on the armrest.] Remember that, Flug, I'll put that in his contract so he can't weasel out of it.