Noelle Kendall (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
catchingseasons) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
zenderael_rl2012-08-18 02:09 pm
catchingseasons) wrote in zenderael_rl2012-08-18 02:09 pm
Entry tags:
NOELLE; snoopsnoop
Who: Noelle
When: Sunday, 4/17, midday
Where: XDAV HQ
Before/After: --
Warnings: --
The employee who had given orders to Roman-- a younger woman, fresh from collage, with curly blonde hair-- flashed an ID to the receptionist, though the receptionist himself had little time to verify it before the pair of military personnel stopped her, checking it themselves. They would check Noelle's, too, but anything identifying her as an alt for X-DAV's purposes would be beyond their understanding, and she would be waved off so they could continue questioning the receptionist. Noelle's target was forced to take the stairs when the elevators were blocked off.
Sunday had brought a State of Emergency, and it didn't take long for fingers to point to X-DAV. As illogical as X-DAV claimed it sounded, there was no one else with more of a connection to the Saccharine Lair popping up in the middle of Fall City and making a mess of the mall with sticky, sugary goodness. But there wasn't much to find in X-DAV aside from an office building of employees, their cubicles, and various server equipment. Without the investigation ongoing, the atmosphere may have been considered light: there was plenty of color, each desk decorated with the personal touches of its owner, and the walls had chalkboards with doodles haphazardly scrawled across them besides formulas and other work-important notes listed there.
But the volume was nothing more than a quiet murmur now, everyone eager to avoid calling attention to themselves. Those who were being questioned stammered to find answers, though Noelle would pass at least one who claimed that yes, of course, they were creating monsters and magically teleporting them onto Earth. With, you know, magic computer boxes full of magic. He impressively kept the sarcasm from his voice, but was a little too grimly satisfied by the frustrated look he received. (And then a little more terrified when they proposed taking the rest of the conversation somewhere more private.)
The blonde woman wove through the crowd of investigators and the investigated, offering forced smiles and apologies as she nearly pushed pass some of the latter, trying to make her bee-line for the back of the third floor.
Noelle trailed from a distance, looking as much an employee or an intern as anyone else in the building that wasn't military personnel. Thin frames rested atop the bridge of her nose, an unwitting donation of Zale's to her current outfit. Concealment of identity was not high on Noelle's priority list, though. She was dressed in business attire, stockings, and half-inch heels with no bow or quiver to speak of, but she was still very identifiable to anyone who knew her.
Given that alts were not supposed to be inside the building, that number should have been close to zero. Roman, if she was following the right person.
A small hunting knife rested underneath her breasts, its sheathe buckled around her chest, but that was all she had in terms of weaponry. Hanging onto that belt was a small mechanical gecko, courtesy one of Bastantown's alchemists. Her phone rested inside her skirt pocket, and it had been a trial to find such a skirt with pockets that weren't merely for decoration. Noelle had asked Jordan why. Jordan had been as mystified as she.
She swiped a manila folder from one of the empty cubicles as she passed and held it against the side of her chest as if she were meant to have it. Perhaps it belonged to the man who was being questioned. All the better -- he'd not notice it missing for a while, preoccupied by backpedaling.
(Somewhere, Zale was complaining that he did not look smart enough without his glasses as he tore his room apart looking for them. This event took place at least once a week, whether they had been "borrowed" or not.)
Another woman awaited the blonde in the back, this one copper skinned and, though small, carried herself with a sharp enough posture that she seemed somehow taller than the other. Her mousy hair was braided and wound tight on her head, pulling her skin taut, and today there was a constant fidget with her glasses.
Before the blonde could speak, the brunette hushed her, glanced around, then led her toward a door in the back. As soon as they slipped inside, the door shut quietly, and the blinds in the windows were twisted shut. No one else nearby appeared to notice, and when another one of the office workers came by that spot, he glanced around a delayed moment before thinking to check the room. The handle didn't give to his twisting and he decided to give up with an awkward glance over his shoulder before looking elsewhere.
Noelle approached the door area a minute after the man had left. She allowed the manila folder to slip from her hold, spilling papers everywhere on the floor. When she knelt down to retrieve them, the gecko crawled from under her sleeve, down her arm, to the carpet floor. She pressed the on switch of the sound recorder on the gecko, then returned to gathering the papers. The gecko had no trouble making it under the door way.
It crawled behind the rectangular trash bin at the corner of the doorway and from there, slithered to the central long table, surrounded by chairs, and parked itself underneath the seat of one.
As soon as she collected the papers, Noelle went to the bathroom. Luckily, it was empty. She cast a hearing buff on herself, then returned to the main area, lingering nearby the meeting room, focusing that buff on it.
Footsteps muffled over any of the other sounds for a moment, but the pacing within came to a rest long enough to begin to make out the voices on the other side of the door.
"...focus their efforts on finding the Mano."
"This disturbance is higher than the one at the start of the month. We've had more coming in, so--"
"That's not for you to worry about. They're to focus on the Mano."
"It's in Underwood. At the high school."
"The schools are closed."
There were a few starts of an effort to form a response, but either there was too much muffling to make it out, or it never found itself fully formed.
"Try to hurry." It was the same voice as the one last to coherently speak. "We needed to be doing this yesterday."
There was nothing else exchanged, but two pairs of footsteps shuffled to the door and the lock shifted open, suddenly loud and crisp compared to their softened voices.
Noelle realized she was looking at invoices. She looked down the rows, items she didn't recognize, other she did, their quantities, prices, and date of order. Nothing about it seemed remarkable to her.
The exchange between the two women, however, was entirely different. Her face remained passive as they spoke of the disturbance, slipping one of the invoices away from the others and deftly folding it. It went into her pocket. The items may not have held much importance, but the pair of signatures on the bottom might be useful in the future.
When the door clicked open, Noelle realized there was a decision to make. Would she retrieve the gecko and leave, or would she attempt to follow one of the two women? Entering the building had been easy today. What about the military personnel...?
She walked back to the meeting room, buff still focused on the two women -- at least, until they split, and then she would be forced to choose. The gecko crawled up her leg and back to its original position on her belt after she pinched the top edge of her skirt to let it through.
Once Noelle had left the room, the pair of women had already split. The brunette remained nearby, slipping in with a group of employees at computers and leaning over the desk to scribble something down. She wasn't currently speaking to any of them, nor them to her, but she was giving them pointed glances before looking back to keep an eye on those of the military.
The blonde wove through the third floor to find her way back to the stares, clearly nervous in her motions. One of the military stopped her, but enough mumbling about being an intern and panicked chatter about the potentials of being fired and maybe you should talk to Miss Blaine, please, seemed to satisfy them. She helpfully pointed out Blaine, the same woman she had spoken to in the back room, before scrambling off.
A meek act of retaliation, perhaps.
Blaine was the one with more information, she assumed, but the other woman seemed more vulnerable. With the military here, she could threaten neither, nor was she particularly eager to do so.
She followed the blonde.
The blonde pulled the door to the stairs opened and hurried her way down, but there was only so much one could do in heels. She cursed, losing a shoe and fumbling to get it back on. If Noelle wished to stop her in the stairwell, now was the time.
Otherwise, she would continue on her way into the lobby.
"Troublesome, aren't they," she commented, passing the woman on the way down the stairs.
There was little point in letting them know she had eavesdropped -- not if she didn't want to make the next time more difficult for herself.
The woman looked up with a start. She relaxed, but only slightly, after Noelle had passed. "Yes," she said, continuing her own way down the stairs. "I don't know why they stopped the elevators for this.
She didn't reply. She pushed the heavy door open and held it long enough for the blonde to exit, then walked to the reception area and deposited the manila folder with one of the men there. He hadn't much time to look at it or her, merely taking it and placing it in his stack of other things to address once he was done being questioned.
Noelle turned to leave, keeping an eye for the blonde more as an afterthought than a focus now. It seemed as though she wasn't to leave yet. Best for Noelle to leave herself. Greediness was unlikely to work in her favor.
When: Sunday, 4/17, midday
Where: XDAV HQ
Before/After: --
Warnings: --
The employee who had given orders to Roman-- a younger woman, fresh from collage, with curly blonde hair-- flashed an ID to the receptionist, though the receptionist himself had little time to verify it before the pair of military personnel stopped her, checking it themselves. They would check Noelle's, too, but anything identifying her as an alt for X-DAV's purposes would be beyond their understanding, and she would be waved off so they could continue questioning the receptionist. Noelle's target was forced to take the stairs when the elevators were blocked off.
Sunday had brought a State of Emergency, and it didn't take long for fingers to point to X-DAV. As illogical as X-DAV claimed it sounded, there was no one else with more of a connection to the Saccharine Lair popping up in the middle of Fall City and making a mess of the mall with sticky, sugary goodness. But there wasn't much to find in X-DAV aside from an office building of employees, their cubicles, and various server equipment. Without the investigation ongoing, the atmosphere may have been considered light: there was plenty of color, each desk decorated with the personal touches of its owner, and the walls had chalkboards with doodles haphazardly scrawled across them besides formulas and other work-important notes listed there.
But the volume was nothing more than a quiet murmur now, everyone eager to avoid calling attention to themselves. Those who were being questioned stammered to find answers, though Noelle would pass at least one who claimed that yes, of course, they were creating monsters and magically teleporting them onto Earth. With, you know, magic computer boxes full of magic. He impressively kept the sarcasm from his voice, but was a little too grimly satisfied by the frustrated look he received. (And then a little more terrified when they proposed taking the rest of the conversation somewhere more private.)
The blonde woman wove through the crowd of investigators and the investigated, offering forced smiles and apologies as she nearly pushed pass some of the latter, trying to make her bee-line for the back of the third floor.
Noelle trailed from a distance, looking as much an employee or an intern as anyone else in the building that wasn't military personnel. Thin frames rested atop the bridge of her nose, an unwitting donation of Zale's to her current outfit. Concealment of identity was not high on Noelle's priority list, though. She was dressed in business attire, stockings, and half-inch heels with no bow or quiver to speak of, but she was still very identifiable to anyone who knew her.
Given that alts were not supposed to be inside the building, that number should have been close to zero. Roman, if she was following the right person.
A small hunting knife rested underneath her breasts, its sheathe buckled around her chest, but that was all she had in terms of weaponry. Hanging onto that belt was a small mechanical gecko, courtesy one of Bastantown's alchemists. Her phone rested inside her skirt pocket, and it had been a trial to find such a skirt with pockets that weren't merely for decoration. Noelle had asked Jordan why. Jordan had been as mystified as she.
She swiped a manila folder from one of the empty cubicles as she passed and held it against the side of her chest as if she were meant to have it. Perhaps it belonged to the man who was being questioned. All the better -- he'd not notice it missing for a while, preoccupied by backpedaling.
(Somewhere, Zale was complaining that he did not look smart enough without his glasses as he tore his room apart looking for them. This event took place at least once a week, whether they had been "borrowed" or not.)
Another woman awaited the blonde in the back, this one copper skinned and, though small, carried herself with a sharp enough posture that she seemed somehow taller than the other. Her mousy hair was braided and wound tight on her head, pulling her skin taut, and today there was a constant fidget with her glasses.
Before the blonde could speak, the brunette hushed her, glanced around, then led her toward a door in the back. As soon as they slipped inside, the door shut quietly, and the blinds in the windows were twisted shut. No one else nearby appeared to notice, and when another one of the office workers came by that spot, he glanced around a delayed moment before thinking to check the room. The handle didn't give to his twisting and he decided to give up with an awkward glance over his shoulder before looking elsewhere.
Noelle approached the door area a minute after the man had left. She allowed the manila folder to slip from her hold, spilling papers everywhere on the floor. When she knelt down to retrieve them, the gecko crawled from under her sleeve, down her arm, to the carpet floor. She pressed the on switch of the sound recorder on the gecko, then returned to gathering the papers. The gecko had no trouble making it under the door way.
It crawled behind the rectangular trash bin at the corner of the doorway and from there, slithered to the central long table, surrounded by chairs, and parked itself underneath the seat of one.
As soon as she collected the papers, Noelle went to the bathroom. Luckily, it was empty. She cast a hearing buff on herself, then returned to the main area, lingering nearby the meeting room, focusing that buff on it.
Footsteps muffled over any of the other sounds for a moment, but the pacing within came to a rest long enough to begin to make out the voices on the other side of the door.
"...focus their efforts on finding the Mano."
"This disturbance is higher than the one at the start of the month. We've had more coming in, so--"
"That's not for you to worry about. They're to focus on the Mano."
"It's in Underwood. At the high school."
"The schools are closed."
There were a few starts of an effort to form a response, but either there was too much muffling to make it out, or it never found itself fully formed.
"Try to hurry." It was the same voice as the one last to coherently speak. "We needed to be doing this yesterday."
There was nothing else exchanged, but two pairs of footsteps shuffled to the door and the lock shifted open, suddenly loud and crisp compared to their softened voices.
Noelle realized she was looking at invoices. She looked down the rows, items she didn't recognize, other she did, their quantities, prices, and date of order. Nothing about it seemed remarkable to her.
The exchange between the two women, however, was entirely different. Her face remained passive as they spoke of the disturbance, slipping one of the invoices away from the others and deftly folding it. It went into her pocket. The items may not have held much importance, but the pair of signatures on the bottom might be useful in the future.
When the door clicked open, Noelle realized there was a decision to make. Would she retrieve the gecko and leave, or would she attempt to follow one of the two women? Entering the building had been easy today. What about the military personnel...?
She walked back to the meeting room, buff still focused on the two women -- at least, until they split, and then she would be forced to choose. The gecko crawled up her leg and back to its original position on her belt after she pinched the top edge of her skirt to let it through.
Once Noelle had left the room, the pair of women had already split. The brunette remained nearby, slipping in with a group of employees at computers and leaning over the desk to scribble something down. She wasn't currently speaking to any of them, nor them to her, but she was giving them pointed glances before looking back to keep an eye on those of the military.
The blonde wove through the third floor to find her way back to the stares, clearly nervous in her motions. One of the military stopped her, but enough mumbling about being an intern and panicked chatter about the potentials of being fired and maybe you should talk to Miss Blaine, please, seemed to satisfy them. She helpfully pointed out Blaine, the same woman she had spoken to in the back room, before scrambling off.
A meek act of retaliation, perhaps.
Blaine was the one with more information, she assumed, but the other woman seemed more vulnerable. With the military here, she could threaten neither, nor was she particularly eager to do so.
She followed the blonde.
The blonde pulled the door to the stairs opened and hurried her way down, but there was only so much one could do in heels. She cursed, losing a shoe and fumbling to get it back on. If Noelle wished to stop her in the stairwell, now was the time.
Otherwise, she would continue on her way into the lobby.
"Troublesome, aren't they," she commented, passing the woman on the way down the stairs.
There was little point in letting them know she had eavesdropped -- not if she didn't want to make the next time more difficult for herself.
The woman looked up with a start. She relaxed, but only slightly, after Noelle had passed. "Yes," she said, continuing her own way down the stairs. "I don't know why they stopped the elevators for this.
She didn't reply. She pushed the heavy door open and held it long enough for the blonde to exit, then walked to the reception area and deposited the manila folder with one of the men there. He hadn't much time to look at it or her, merely taking it and placing it in his stack of other things to address once he was done being questioned.
Noelle turned to leave, keeping an eye for the blonde more as an afterthought than a focus now. It seemed as though she wasn't to leave yet. Best for Noelle to leave herself. Greediness was unlikely to work in her favor.