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FarlakawsChosen

Somewhat Magical Strategist Serina Hunter - The Perfect Wish

Oct 31st, 2014
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  1. "Serina Hunter, Vindicare of the 8th Officio's Eastern Division. If you're listening to this, future me, then that means the FAMINE protocol has been activated. Take a day off; this will take a while. This is an audio record of everything significant that has happened since our contracting to the 8th in accordance with the Forget Me Not contingency plan. Begin encryption."
  2.  
  3. ---
  4.  
  5. The radio blares with a periodic mind drilling tone triggering my snooze button reflex. Six o'clock, time to begin another day in hell.
  6.  
  7. Exactly seven minutes later, I slap the snooze button again, and again seven minutes after that. Twenty-one minutes after six, I give up wishing the sun would do the courtesy of exploding and decide to turn off the alarm proper.
  8.  
  9. I blindly grope for the light switch almost knocking the lamp off the night stand in the process. The lamp clicks twice, and after a delay, the fluorescent bulb floods the room with light. I struggle against my grogginess pulling myself out of bed, and meander out of my bedroom into the shower for a quick rinse.
  10.  
  11. I step out after a couple minutes and begin drying my hair. It's a chore to maintain. I only haven't cut it all off because I like the way it shines. Black, smooth and shoulder length, I'm proud of it, which I think is a bit odd considering I put almost no effort into how I look. I rub the crust from my emerald eyes and give myself a quick spot check. My skin is a darker tint of brown than I like; I've been spending more time outside in the sun burning to a crisp. At least it's smooth and soft; the bruises and lacerations are all but fully healed.
  12.  
  13. I grumble an inaudible greeting to myself and amble across the hall into the hallway closet for some clothes. It takes me all of three seconds to pluck a random selection of thrift store salvage to carry back to my room. Blue jeans bearing a few holes here and there and a black t-shirt with only the word "Berlin" on the front, no accessories. I stand in front of my mirror lazily changing clothes and combing my hair going over today's todo list.
  14.  
  15. Callidus exam. A makeup for failing the first two times. I'm not especially bad at the task itself, but the problem lies in my handicap. It's not so hard for everyone else, but just me thanks to my unusually low magic capacity.
  16.  
  17. At two o-clock, I have an appointment with the rank leader. No doubt about my less than exemplary performance, or claiming an excessive amount of sick days. Not looking forward to that; all the more reason to give it my all for the exam, might make a good impression for when I need to grovel later. I grab a stale week old doughnut and a bottle of orange juice and head out for the Officio headquarters in downtown Morpork after donning my gray jacket.
  18.  
  19. Morpork, Virginia, economic hub at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay where land and rail meet the bulk of the ocean and ship trade for the eastern half of the country. Home of the world's largest naval base. When I contracted to the Eighth, I got the rundown of how things worked while being told the cover story about my sudden permanent change of residence that should be conveyed to my parents.
  20.  
  21. I've been scouted and hired by Lockseed Martian to work as a technology researcher to help protect our freedoms or some bull. Free room and board plus scholarship. Sure, whatever.
  22.  
  23. Lockseed is a subsidiary of the Eighth, just one of many used to exert a startlingly well covered up influence on the government and global trade. Sometimes I daydream about what it would be like to actually work there, researching unique innovative ways to make 120 million dollar titanium flying dildos into 150 million dollar titanium flying dildos. It helps stave off the thoughts of suicide at least.
  24.  
  25. I slip into the MacAaron Parking Garage, the largest car park in the city, in the heart of the shopping district. It's surrounded by boutiques, restaurants, outlets and the MacAaron Shopping Mall filled with more of the same. Inside is mostly quiet and empty save for a single car starting its engine on the floor above. The ground is spotless with fresh clean painted lines, the signage is kept new and free of vandalism, and the interior is well lit. Not a single light bulb is burnt out and the pavement is free of blemishes; the lanes are clearly marked, and the garage is large enough to warrant its own traffic lights on the inside.
  26.  
  27. I walk into the nearest elevator, press my ID card against an unmarked section of smooth metal plate near the buttons and wait for the panel to blink once. I then press the G button and the elevator closes its doors and greets me in a crystal clear female voice with a British accent harmonized with a tune played by an orchestra. It's played through several hidden speakers mounted in every direction, above and below, all subtly changing their phase to make it sound like the center of the sound is constantly moving around my head. It's almost therapeutic in a way, but also completely overkill for a freaking elevator.
  28.  
  29. The elevator doors open to a vestibule furnished with Persian carpet, sofas, and coffee tables stacked with Magical Girl Weekly, Teen Rogue, Timeline, Popular Magic and other magazines I see girls reading at times. Maybe I'll actually get around to skimming through one someday. I can see through the glass panes opposite the elevators that the corridors are populated by only a few girls going about their business. I pace down the clean white tile hallway stepping carefully with my worn sneakers to reduce the noise I make. Mostly out of long standing habit, I tread while making the smallest noise possible, avoiding eye contact with others lest I attract unnecessary attention.
  30.  
  31. Following the route to the C terminal tram, I keep up the effort to remain inconspicuous throughout my trip, the habit reinforced thanks to previous run-ins with some of the more...special magical girls. It's not uncommon to bump into a girl who's an entire dump truck of fries short of a happy meal but has the raw power to cleave a battleship in two. I'd like to not have a repeat of the last few times I became the stress ball for an eversor's frustrations. Some of the venenums in the medical ward are on a first name basis with me.
  32.  
  33. Walking through the Officio puts me on edge; I think they can smell my weakness in the air. Must flip a switch somewhere in their mind, igniting their assassin instincts or something. Luckily, the few girls in the building at this hour are minding their own business, and make it to the tram without incident, it's just as peaceful in the tram as it was in the hallways. The automatic doors shut, and I ease into a seat letting go of my tension. The tram jerks forward starting its journey as I slouch down into my seat with a long sigh, like letting the air out of an inflatable mascot.
  34.  
  35. I pull out my soul gem as the sound system in the tram plays back a greeting on the same level of unneeded over the top luxuriance as in the elevator. The gem shines weakly with a pale blue light emanating from the center like a cell phone at the bottom of a deep murky pool. Removing from my inventory the same grief seed I've been using this past week, I tap it to my soul gem. I can't tell, but I think it looks less drab and dreary, the light shining a little brighter than before.
  36.  
  37. Where did it all go wrong? How did I go from ordinary middle schooler with no friends and a minor bullying problem to barely magical girl with no friends and a periodically lethal bullying problem? What happened to that grand master plan, the "perfect wish"? I just had to get arrogant, had to be a big shot, had to fall for 8ball's shit hook line and sinker. My head rests on the back of my seat while I reflect.
  38.  
  39. I plan ahead for everything: every event, every twist and turn a situation can take, and every chance happening down to the nitty gritty details. I'm prepared for anything, no matter how outlandish or improbable, and I've worked out the appropriate action to take ensuring I come out on top and ahead of the game, or so I like to think.
  40.  
  41. On that day that the mutant cat-weasel-rabbit approached me, in my head, I believed I had solved the "one wish" proposition eons ago; without even having to resort to loop holing wordplay that amounts to asking for more wishes. It was literally child's play. Spending most of my childhood avoiding all human contact to be alone in my little world gives me a lot of time to think about these things.
  42.  
  43. The perfect wish was supposed to give me everything I wanted out of the universe, and - and I thought I was sooo clever and wise beyond my years here - conveniently and automatically leave out the things I only thought I wanted but didn't, and give me the things I didn't know I wanted or would want in the future. Could have lifted the Hindenburg with all of the smug I was releasing.
  44.  
  45. I'm still not completely sure what 8ball thought as I recited my wish. For all his boisterousness and rather rude mannerisms and painful stereotyping, he sure fell silent when I uttered the words that would enslave my soul:
  46.  
  47. "I wish to be able to wish for nothing." This, very quickly followed by what I can only guess was about 40 minutes of unbroken speech detailing what amounted to my Terms and Conditions, an amalgamation of my best constructed and memorized legalese, was my wish. Plugging every loophole, contradicting every alternative interpretation, breaking down every word with an improvised Socratic method, I covered and filled the philosophical nooks and crannies. I assumed that I was making a contract with the devil (about the only thing I did right), and I wasn't going to leave any room to get screwed over.
  48.  
  49. I was rewarded with -this-. I roll the gem around in my hand, my mind silent for a moment or two before I re-materialized the gem as a ring on my finger. The tram cruises along transitioning from underground to an elevated above ground section of rail that joins with the main loop. Sunlight peeks over the horizon illuminating the eastern half of the cloudless sky.
  50.  
  51. It took a while to fully sink in initially. The depth of what I had done to myself, the hell that was to become my every day life, and the complete lack of power I had in more ways than one. It probably hit me finally when I died for the first time. Bright idea at the time thinking that if I stood up for myself for once in my life, I'd earn respect and never have to deal with bullying again. Bright idea as a callidus with an abnormally limited magic capacity to think she could stand up to an eversor.
  52.  
  53. I remember dying slowly and painfully, then waking up in the medical bed brought back to life but all the pain still there. I remember crying myself to sleep then; I can't remember the last time I cried before that if I ever did. I'll always remember that day that I died, cried, and, also for the first time I can ever remember, just wanting a friend to talk to.
  54.  
  55. The tram comes to a stop at the ever so creatively named Commercial Office District station. I exit the station, and head across the street toward the business park. Unlike the shopping district, the office district isn't stuffed with billboards, flashy signs, and casually dressed people carrying shopping bags and wielding smart phones like they would die if they didn't keep hammering at the screen with their thumbs a hundred times a second. Even off duty magical girls hold their electronic narcotics closer to them and care for them more than their own soul gems.
  56.  
  57. Here, there's altogether less visual clutter; just plain office buildings with the accompanying logos and sidewalks lined with dogwood trees in between LED streetlights. The people, while also glued to their thousand dollar watch replacements, are dressed professionally in suits and ties, mostly middle aged men with fewer women and even fewer young interns, and talk rather loudly when on the phone. Fooling only themselves, they want to convince the word that they are important and necessary, and the best way to do that is to talk business loudly in public. They make mundane every day conversations about recent transactions sound like industry changing fortune 500 business deals, and it hinges on their word. Then they end the call conveniently in front of their favorite bar and drink themselves into a stupor in time just before the crushing truth has a chance to swoop in.
  58.  
  59. Then again, it might not be too far from the truth. The buildings surrounding the one in the center are owned by puppet corps of the 8th. At least they get to be part of the fun when we pull on the strings.
  60.  
  61. The center building, surrounded in a glass curtain wall, is the main center of operations for the callidus. There isn't that much to be said about the place; it's mainly offices where paper work and data entry get done. Below the surface is a data center, and below that are silent rooms, vaults, and other things I can imagine but don't have the access to know for sure.
  62.  
  63. I proceed through the main entrance where I'm immediately greeted by Alyssa Lockhart, callidus rank leader. She's wearing a button up short sleeve white shirt, red tie, and blue skirt that comes down to her knees. She flips her long light-purple hair that makes her ample bosom non-verbally and confidently announce its presence, and grabs a tablet off the front desk.
  64.  
  65. "Serina Hunter," she addresses me in a calm, business-like voice. I return the greeting with a stiff salute. "Good morning. You're early, as expected." She taps a few times on the tablet before handing a manila folder to the front desk secretary. "Grab my bags for me and follow me. I'll be driving you to the exam as I have a few special things I need to talk with you about before you begin." I picked up the bags sitting beside the front desk next to her, one a large purse, and the other a normal beige bag baring the numerals VIII in large golden stitching.
  66.  
  67. Normally, for the exam, we just show up at the starting point at the specified time, but I had written orders to come to the office in person. What she has to tell me must be so important that she couldn't wait to tell me at our scheduled meeting later today. My pay has already been sequestered down to the minimum allowed by Officio policy for my many sick days and medical resource usage. I idly wonder what else can be taken away before stopping myself from thinking into it any further. No point in worrying.
  68.  
  69. I place her bags in the back seat of one of the generic white company sedans. It's some late model something something with a license plate that reads CURVIII. I hop into the passenger seat as Alyssa starts the car and we pull out of the lot. The car soon fills with the pleasant scent of her fruity shampoo. Before I can enjoy it too much, she breaks the silence as soon as we are on the road.
  70.  
  71. "Did you eat anything for breakfast?" Her question caught me a bit off guard, I'd expected her to drill into me straight away. I guess she's not as straight to business as I thought.
  72.  
  73. "Doughnut." I reply in a tone as stale and colorless as the nearly rock hard confectionery that was my breakfast.
  74.  
  75. "Look in my bag and grab the pink box on top," she offers in a softer warm voice. I reach back and pull out the box from the bag and into my lap. It's a pastry from Sweet Treats, a popular family run bakery in the shopping district. Opening the box revealed a surprise that made me forget whatever it was I was worried about just a minute ago. Two fresh sweet potato jacks in all their golden glory. The pastry of the gods. I stare at it in stunned silence before murmuring a thanks and taking a bite.
  76.  
  77. Alyssa says something about me needing to eat a proper breakfast that I can't hear over the harps played by angels. The soft exterior mixes with the warm smooth sweet potato filling and gracing my tongue with the divine blessing of righteous sweetness. Soon, every square centimeter of my mouth is covered in starchy goodness and every swallow brings with it a soothing and satisfying essence of revitalization that slides down into my stomach warming my body with the love and care that I know the baker put into it. I don't even notice the tears streaming don my face until it's pointed out to me.
  78.  
  79. The callidus rank leader is at a loss for words when she hands me a handkerchief. I finish off the last of the jacks and dab my tears slightly embarrassed of myself. I haven't had a sweet potato jack in years, and those were too perfect; it takes a moment for me to compose myself, resuming my usual deadpan expression. I make a mental note to go compliment the baker and maybe buy another one some day when I have more than twelve cents in pennies picked up off the ground in my inventory.
  80.  
  81. I clean up and awkwardly thank Alyssa a couple more times. She lets me enjoy the afterglow for a beat before bringing me crashing down from cloud nine back to reality.
  82.  
  83. "I've made some modifications to your exam. You will be taking this one alone this time and the difficulty has been increased to play to your strengths." She informs me back in her usual business groove. "The time limit has been reduced to four hours, and conditions have been added for passing and failing." I listen intently as she explains the changes to the exam relieved that this wasn't going to be a pre-haranguing.
  84.  
  85. The callidus exam consists of two major parts: clerical and field work. Clerical is easy enough, just don't have mush for brains cougheversorscough and anyone can pass. Field work is much more exciting: three parts with three to five callidus-in-training taking the exam at the same time, teamwork optional, against a squad of newly inducted vindicare and whoever else wants to volunteer to kick around some fresh meat, teamwork mandatory.
  86.  
  87. Despite my persistent failures, I'm actually looking forward to taking the exam. It's probably the only thing I've done that's actually been fun since contracting. Not only do I get to stretch my legs a little and get away from the constant threat of having my bones broken, but the exam is the only time I feel I have some control which I haven't felt in over a month. The rules are very straight forward and nonrestrictive allowing quite the freedom of approach. I think if I can just pass the damn thing and get real missions like these, I might just turn out to enjoy some part of my life again.
  88.  
  89. Alyssa asks me if I have any questions, which I don't; I never ask questions for fear they're going to figure out what I'm planning and plug that loophole. Then she fills the silence that would be the rest of the trip by plugging loopholes I've exploited in the past and trying to anticipate new ones with more stupid rules.
  90.  
  91. We pull up to a nondescript area off the beaten path which was off the highway in the middle of a forest. She takes my grief seed since they aren't permitted during the exam and offers a choice of firearms which I quickly refuse. My proficiency lies in stealth and having an over sized firecracker isn't my style; it won't help me at the truly difficult portion either.
  92.  
  93. "Your exam begins when you cross the red tape; good luck," she states. We exchange salutes, and she smirks a devilish smirk with a suspicious wink that is all too out of place for her normal formal front. A chill runs up my spine, and I wonder if I should take that as a sign that this isn't going to be an ordinary newbie exam or if she's just trying to get into my head.
  94.  
  95. I try to shake the feeling and forget the gesture while trodding through to the deeper part of the forest. My hands, either from the chill in the air or from anticipation, begin trembling; I clench them hard. I have to be quick to put some ideas into action, quicker still for the contingency plans to save my butt should I encounter some nasty surprises. I might...I thin- no, this may be my last chance to prove I'm worth something to the Officio. There's no room for failure, I CAN and WILL do this. I've planned for this.
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