(no subject)

[cutting_edgex23]

Some things a person expects when coming into Milliways. Waitrats, the Observation window, old faces and new, occasional barfights, time-crossed intra-universal conversations . . .

X, however, is not expecting Bar to hand over multiple stacks of paper, each about the height of an 8-year-old, and a note:

Congratulations on becoming the new acting Head of Security. These papers are now yours to deal with. In a timely manner. Good luck!

X is going to get a new understanding of just why Mel hates paperwork. All paperwork.

Forever.

Comments

[fry_sandhu]

"That's worse than Dad's pile of paper." someone who is nearly the height of an 8-year-old comments.

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks up a few seconds before Fry speaks.

Scent is good for that.

"I think it is a backlog," X says, very carefully.

(Backlog is not a word she uses often.)

"Your father has that problem, too?"

[fry_sandhu]

"I think his is spam." Fry says.

"You should get a secretary." he says helpfully.

[cutting_edgex23]

X studies the pile of papers again, head tilting as she considers Fry's recommendation.

"I do not need to sleep," she offers. Eventually.

"I will be done by tomorrow."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Oooh oooh look who's actually doing his job busing tables today! It's Lesgle! (Okay he does that more or less every day, but look whose mun remembered to put him to work.)

He eyes the paperwork as he heads in towards the kitchen, carrying a tray full of dirty dishes, and he eyes it even more on his way out. "--You've won quite a prize there."

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks up, head tilting as she studies Lesgle.

"I do not think it was a competition."

Beat.

"Or a contest."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Lottery, then? Luck of the draw? ...Bar just took one look at you and said to herself, 'Ahh, there's a young lady who could do with some stacks of paper!'"

He's not snooping! Well, yes, he is a little. But he's not trying to read what's on the paper.

[cutting_edgex23]

X blinks. Twice.

"I am in charge of Security. Now."

That is what he was asking, right?

"There are forms."

[merryeccentricities]

Joly is in the Bar when X arrives, though he barely notices her at first. Half-caught in a book --a very exciting book about genetics and inherited disease resistance! In another five minutes he'd be completely enthralled-- he's still aware enough of his surroundings to start a bit when suddenly multiple towers of paperwork appear to assail the poor young woman.

He closes the book and hurries over. "Mademoiselle? I'm sorry to intrude, are you all right?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks up as Joly approaches, eyes widening fractionally.

"I do not get hurt."

In case he was wondering.

[merryeccentricities]

Joly stops short. "Oh!" It's such an entirely unexpected response that that's all he can say for a moment.

But only for a moment. "Really? You're, ah, invulnerable somehow then? That must be marvelous. --What is all this paper for? Is it yours?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"I heal."

Her response is matter-of-fact.

So is the one that follows.

"It is for Security. I am in charge. Now."

She studies the stacks of paper for a moment.

"It is good that I do not need much sleep."

[mjolnir_retriever]

She's made a dent, but only a dent, in the stack when Thor comes in the door.

Uh. Okay, X!

(Also: wow, huge stacks of physical paper. Whatever that's for, it's so quaint!)

Looking genially confused, he heads over.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Thor," X says, looking up at his approach.

"Hello."

Beat.

"You are okay?"

She does not put down her pen, however. There is no time.

[mjolnir_retriever]

"Yes. Are you, Lady X?"

The title is half an expression of amusement; he means it, as always, or he wouldn't use it, but he's also looking at that scurrying pen, and all that paper.

Some of which looks kind of familiar, at least in the general outlines, now that he's nearer.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Yes," she says, after a moment of thought.

She does not sound uncertain.

"I am in charge of Security. Now."

Beat.

"There are forms."

[ostro_goth]

"Greetings," Teja says, coming up to the bar with a cat on his shoulder. "May I help you with this?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks up as Teja approaches, head tilting very slightly.

"It requires my signature."

Beat.

"Forgeries are not acceptable."

It's the problem with having to sign forms in . . . . much larger integers than triplicate.

[ostro_goth]

"Why is a seal not acceptable?" Teja asks.

[forceimbalance]

That is a lot of paper.

That is a lot of paper.

Anakin looks more than a little disgusted. "Uh, excuse me. I just have to ask: does Bar often hand out things like that?" Maybe it's not such a good refuge from the war if paperwork like that threatens.

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks up, nostrils flaring very slightly.

It's a newer scent than some, but she's definitely run across it in passing before.

"No."

A pause.

"You do not have to worry."

In case he was. Worrying, that is.

[forceimbalance]

Anakin can't help it; he laughs a little.

"Worry isn't quite the right word. I've been asked to bartend, though, so I didn't know if she periodically dumps other work on people."

It's a relief to know that he'll at least get some choice in the matter!

"If this is unusual, how did you end up with it?"

[student_of_impossibility]

"This," a richly amused baritone notes dryly, "is why I make people bring in all my paperwork in chunks."

See Tavi leaning on a chair next to X with a rueful smile as he eyes what looks quite frankly like one of his nightmare scenarios.

"I don't suppose delegation's an option?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X does not sigh.

"No. They require my signature."

Annoyingly.

"Becoming the Head of Security requires many forms."

So many forms. Filed in quadriplicate. If that were a real thing.

[student_of_impossibility]

Oh.

Well isn't that interesting.

Tavi blinks and tilts his head at her, eyes intent. His voice, however, remains light.

"Do I offer congratulations or condolences?"