hadriel | [video]

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[video]

[Maketh's face is all business. If her authority has been questioned, then obviously the solution is to prove that she is doing everything possible to make the Guard as strong and efficient as it can be. She holds up a large rifle to the screen. Some of you might recognize it as Lilith's sniper rifle. Others might simply note that it's the gun that Maketh tends to tote around everywhere.]

I am looking for someone with training in long-range weaponry who would be willing to assist me in mastering this weapon. I never had official sniper training in my world. I would like this error to be corrected.

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[Maketh frowns at him.]

Your expertise has not been proven. Nonetheless, I do not dismiss information that might prove useful.

My expertise has not been proven to you, you mean.

[He'll just make that little correction there.]

And forgive me if I find that difficult to believe. You've dismissed essentially everything I've said to you so far.

You could claim anything was true in your world. I accept what is proven.

[Maketh makes a face.]

Many of your--observations have been flawed. But you are not an officer. Perhaps your skill is not so lacking in other capacities.

[He gives a mild smile in return, the expression clearly not genuine.]

I have very little interest in proving anything to you.

[Also thanks for that backhanded compliment there; he narrowly avoids mentioning that her own observations have been just as flawed, or that she has no idea what he is or isn't, mostly because he's still very aware this is public and she really doesn't need to know any more details about him than she does.]

[And that makes absolutely no sense to her at all. Maketh's frown deepens. His first move upon arriving to Hadriel should have been proving himself. A professional - not an officer, clearly, but still a professional - must justify their expertise and thus their existence before a rival moves in to take it. Otherwise there's no point.]

Then what are you doing here?

[He could clarify that he meant her specifically--he's definitely still concerned about what people think of him, and wants to be liked and respected and tends toward the insecure side--but he has absolutely no desire to say that. Her response is a whole lot more interesting anyway.]

Is there some reason that earning your approval should be foremost on my or anyone else's list of priorities?

[Since the subject at hand was proving to her specifically, although he doesn't think it's the actual underlying reason for her question and he's interested in trying to figure out what is.]

Where I am from, if you are weak, you die.

[Even he ought to understand that. Maketh lifts her chin.]

It's the way of things.

So you've told me.

[And he resists adding that her response didn't answer his question in the slightest, because it would be needlessly confrontational. Instead he asks another question, more conversationally--]

Who is it in your world that you need to convince of your strength?

[He's presuming superiors in the army or the Emperor she'd told him about, but it's worth it to double check.]

Everyone.

[Is that not obvious? She can't imagine it being any other way. Logically, it must in other worlds, or her actions wouldn't seem so strange. Maketh tips her head to the side.]

How many cadets died during your training, Doctor Sweets?

[She has a feeling the answer is none. Impossible.]

I'm a psychologist. My entry training for the FBI was nonstandard.

[Which is the truth; he didn't go through the usual method of being hired, due both to the position he was filling and being too young to be hired as an agent. Later on, when he did become an agent, it was a much more informal process than would normally happen.]

None?

[They simply--what? Sent him to classes? Maketh tries to understand it. The FBI isn't a military organization in the strictest sense. They enforce laws. They track down criminals. They don't engage in military operations. But they still enact control, enforce the rule of law.

So why--?

Maketh shivers. Stands up straighter.]

I do not understand your world at all.

You've said that too.

[He's not really getting anything new out of this, which is not helpful.]

I don't wish to discuss this anymore.

[It's going places she doesn't want to.]

Do you have information I can use or not?

[Well he'll make a mental note of that, but as for her actual question--]

I'll still need a list of those who were present so I know who to speak with.

Nick Valentine. Henry Percy. Glacius. If you want to see the incident report, you will have to go to the guard post. We don't have electronic copies.

[It comes out a little too fast. Maketh wants to end the conversation suddenly, desperately. She's feeling--manic, suddenly, trapped in her skin. This isn't right. There's something wrong, a threat she hasn't anticipated, there's something wrong with her and if she's not careful, he'll see. He already knows.]

[That's a short list, but alright. That'll make his job faster, he supposes, although he's not on the fence about the report; he wants to see it, but doesn't want to go to the guard post. It seems like asking for trouble.

But that's an issue for later, because he hears the sudden change in how she's speaking; these are the types of things it's his job to notice, but they're also ones he would've been able to pick up naturally. Now he just has to decide what to do about it.

It doesn't take more than a second or so; as usually with him, compassion wins out.]

Are you alright?

[It's a genuine question, his voice quiet, watching her reaction carefully to get a better hint of what's going on.]

What? Of course! I am perfectly fine.

[Focus, focus, don't let your hands shake. Maketh forces herself to smile. Everything is fine. She wants to bang her head against the wall until her head stops spinning, thoughts coming too fast to process, but that isn't done. Not with witnesses.]

[Right. Totally fine. Okay, he thinks he knows what's going on just from the sound her voice and by looking at her, and so he leans a little closer to the screen and lowers his voice again to the softer tone he uses with patients.]

Listen. Put the phone down and take a slow, deep breath for five seconds, then let it out for five. Repeat until you've done the set five times.

[Fives are easy to keep track of, and normally he'd add to continue until the patient feels calmer but somehow he thinks that instruction might be a bit lost on Maketh.]

[The reasonable thing in this situation would be listening and then possibly taking the advice that a professional has given her. Even if she dislikes him.

Instead, the video shows the phone sailing through the air and then promptly fizzing out after hitting the wall.]

[At least she put the phone down, he supposes, and he certainly doesn't owe her anything. Still, this feels distinctly like a failure, and worse yet one that prompts a mix of guilt and concern.

But there isn't much he can do about it right now, so he'll just leave things at that for the moment.]

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