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[excontractu]

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Re: post-33

[perfectvision]

[lysander will go looking for Maeve exactly five minutes before the workday ends to see if they're actually going to go home or do overtime because one of those is NOT APPROVED]

[selfdissecting]

[ at five minutes to close, Maeve's desk looks like five minutes after open; they are elbows-deep in paperwork, and all four of their hands are in use, and every single one of their auxiliary eyes. they look almost sick with concentration ]

[perfectvision]

[raps on the doorframe]

Hey, Mmmmaeve?

[selfdissecting]

[ looks up sharply, as though caught doing something they should not be ]

Oh. Lysander—I am sorry, I have so much work that needs getting done—

[perfectvision]

Uh, sure, I can like, see that, but you're off the clock in five?

[selfdissecting]

What? No, it is still— [ they grab their phone, and ] Shit.

[perfectvision]

Minute 55! Or fifty-seven, I spent like two minutes walking, but! Point is, let's go.

[selfdissecting]

[ they flush a weird purple-pink, eyes opening and closing and shivering ]

Um, I... I did not accrue enough sick days to cover how long I was gone for, so I should probably make that time up.

[perfectvision]

[hmmmmmm]

I've got sick days, right?

[selfdissecting]

[ they know what you're doing THEY KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING ]

I don—probably? Probably. But you will not have enough, either, please do not suggest it.

[perfectvision]

Okay, I won't suggest it.

[he'll ACT ON IT]

[selfdissecting]

[ starts to tear up AGAIN ]

Lysander. I... need to work.

[perfectvision]

Work will still be here tomorrow. You also need to eat and sleep and rest— and don't say you had time off, because we had a massive day, so that needs new rest.

[selfdissecting]

[ kinda frozen, their mind like molasses. nothing about this seems to want to compute, and their gaze slides past to the Sharpie sign taped to the half-open door ]

I think I ruined being here for myself. I don't even want to walk down the hall, just in case someone I know will also be there.

[perfectvision]

[ruffles up and then smooths some of his feathers. plagiarism copies him with a big full-body shake.]

How much of that paperwork needs a computer to do?

[selfdissecting]

[ helplessly, ] Um, the screens... hurt my eyes, so... usually none?

[perfectvision]

Oh, great! That works perfect. Pack that up, we'll scoot you out of here, and then if tomorrow's a bad vibe, you can work-from-home.

[selfdissecting]

[ eternally weak to suggestion ]

...okay.

[perfectvision]

[BRIGHTLY. it's a plan!!]

Or from a cafe or a library or wherever. I know a ton of good study rooms.

[selfdissecting]

[ so bright it almost hurts to look at him. hard not to envy, quietly and insidiously, that level of eternal optimism ] Actually, I should... probably go home.

[perfectvision]

Business hours are a thing for a reason. I'll walk you out.

[selfdissecting]

[ they stand and begin to gather their things. now, maybe, the fumbling makes sense—the way they waver on heels that never gave them issues before. how long it takes to gather a sheaf of paper when it shouldn't pose a problem at all.

they dodge his gaze the whole time, just trying to rush through the motions like they're afraid he'll stop them if they aren't expedient enough, and man, they're clumsier for it ]

[perfectvision]

[it's a lot of gaze to try and avoid. only his arms are bare, but that's still over twenty golden eyes— most of them track with Lysander's attention, spinning to read over the papers when he steps forward to help gather things together, but more than a few are following Maeve.]

[selfdissecting]

[ don't look at me, I do not wish to be perceived!!!

once or twice, Maeve's ponytail morphs into eyes, dripping, and they roll around and watch him back before subsuming beneath the surface once more. ]

Alright. I am ready.

[perfectvision]

Great, let's go.