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Still alive. Sort of.
2 years ago
Well it didn't take long for my new job to turn to shit.
I'll state something personal here. I'm not a very social person, i suck at social interactions and i do sometimes fail to notice tone of voice cues. In turn i sometimes give off the wrong tone of voice in stressful situations.
Like being told i made a mistake.
It feels like an excuse, as i look normal otherwise. Hell, even to the point i look younger than i actually am.
Add to that learning that a mid level boss has a tendency to be a dick. He won't work with my, or from what i learned. Other people's issues. everyone under him has been reporting him to higher ups. And i'm on my final warning to 'fix this issue' instantly or i'm out the door.
So is it any wonder i withdraw. Avoid being around anyone, and even have great reluctance to even say 'hello, good morning'?
Anyway, the next chapter is coming along, slowly. So i will also take this opportunity to stress again that stuff mentioned in the story may or may not be part or wholly my views on such matters. I will not state otherwise other than some of the stuff makes damn good story fodder. The chapter is a little longer than i would want and that's why it's taking a while.
The next Mark chapter, the one after this will be rougher but it sets things up for the last bit before we move back to Usako and start the trial.
I'm also toying with an idea of a holiday themed one shot for October. Yea that's only about 5 months away, isn't it?
One of the ideas is set in the Chakat universe. Mainly based on this little tid-bit i thought up.
The crowd mills around the immaculately dressed Caucasian man, clad in a suit of possibly a by-gone era by the casual eye. Though he wears it so well that few pay him mind as he passes through the crowd of humans and furs. His destination clear as the sky is today as the sun is, one of the oldest bank head-branches in existence. The towering building looming in the distance.
One of the few that survived the Gene-Wars. Though no one could put a finger or claw as to why it did. Many were raided, others collapsed when dollars became little more than green toilet paper.
A passing Voxen in a tour group here to see the great city pesters his Chakat tour-guide about 'that odd looking human' he just spotted. As the Chakat in question scans the crowd upon his insistence, failing to see anything amiss.
The man in question continues walking, helping an elderly fur across the street. The fur thanking him profusely and commenting that he's a rarity these days.
Every strand of fur on a passing Rakashani stands on end in alarm. Here only to see why his sister chose a human to add to their house and nothing else. Stands stark still as the man passes beside him. Feeling instead his specie's goddess of death just passed him by rather than though all he can see is the mid day crowd of business men, women, and furs who surround him.
Only to get bumped into by a passerby, and yelled at for being a stupid tourist. If it wasn't for sheer fear of his life, he would punt the human across the street.
The man continues on, not noticing, or more likely ignoring the near street rage incident.
Soon stopping in the small psudo park of tended grass and tall trees in front of his destination. The fifty odd story skyscraper of a bank branch. He admires the view, marveling at the construction and reminiscing on simpler times.
Thoughts of when buildings were less elegant, smaller, and cruder. Even the sky scrapers from before the Gene War pale in the new artisan style.
Then again a simple peasant's hovel had more character than 'brutalist' style of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries he mentally frowns.
A cait, low ranking wife in a mixed species house, stops in her tracks on her way to the same bank to secure a loan for family vehicle. Frozen from a force none of her five senses could pick out and yet, something primal screams at her to go away, far away. There's danger here and you WILL die if you stay.
To the confusion of the humans and furs milling about the park like area, she heeds this unknown instinct, making upmost haste in the opposite direction of the well dressed man. Even as he politely holds a door open for a young fur couple.
Seemingly oblivious to the scene he smiles and thinks to himself. 'After all chivalry isn't dead as long as there's still one practicing it.'
Something in the air shifts, the constant hum and drum of activity in the front lobby. Customers, Clerks, the few living tellers, even those there to just use the V.I. run glorified ATM's. All of them stop what they're doing and look over to the well dressed man who just entered.
Humans and those who's species were made or uplifted by human hands silently go back to what they were doing, paying him no more of their attention. Those that aren't human though, suddenly have an instinctual urge to be 'elsewhere' and quickly indulge in it.
All the while the well dressed man walks up to a guarded corridor. Leading further into the bank, a place only employees and very special people can access.
"May I help you?" the imposing lion-taur bars his way.
'Of course they would have one of them. rare they may be weremic's or weremec's make imposing security guards.' The well dressed man reaches for a inner pocket of his suit jacket. internally grinning at the large fur's muscles flexing.
'like that would help you if i wanted to enter without permission.'
Pulling out a wallet he flips it open to show his id.
Relaxing, and putting on his best customer service smile, the lion-taur steps out of the way upon reading it.
"Oh I was told to expect you Mr. Ducal. Though, considering why, i would've expected you to have more security."
Politely smiling, he pockets his wallet. "It's fine, and you can call me by my first name, Marve."
With a wave of his hand he motions further into the building. "I have an appointment to keep and such things drain more time than they're actually worth. The key is to act like you actually belong where ever your at and people in general just fail to notice you as anything important."
I'll state something personal here. I'm not a very social person, i suck at social interactions and i do sometimes fail to notice tone of voice cues. In turn i sometimes give off the wrong tone of voice in stressful situations.
Like being told i made a mistake.
It feels like an excuse, as i look normal otherwise. Hell, even to the point i look younger than i actually am.
Add to that learning that a mid level boss has a tendency to be a dick. He won't work with my, or from what i learned. Other people's issues. everyone under him has been reporting him to higher ups. And i'm on my final warning to 'fix this issue' instantly or i'm out the door.
So is it any wonder i withdraw. Avoid being around anyone, and even have great reluctance to even say 'hello, good morning'?
Anyway, the next chapter is coming along, slowly. So i will also take this opportunity to stress again that stuff mentioned in the story may or may not be part or wholly my views on such matters. I will not state otherwise other than some of the stuff makes damn good story fodder. The chapter is a little longer than i would want and that's why it's taking a while.
The next Mark chapter, the one after this will be rougher but it sets things up for the last bit before we move back to Usako and start the trial.
I'm also toying with an idea of a holiday themed one shot for October. Yea that's only about 5 months away, isn't it?
One of the ideas is set in the Chakat universe. Mainly based on this little tid-bit i thought up.
The crowd mills around the immaculately dressed Caucasian man, clad in a suit of possibly a by-gone era by the casual eye. Though he wears it so well that few pay him mind as he passes through the crowd of humans and furs. His destination clear as the sky is today as the sun is, one of the oldest bank head-branches in existence. The towering building looming in the distance.
One of the few that survived the Gene-Wars. Though no one could put a finger or claw as to why it did. Many were raided, others collapsed when dollars became little more than green toilet paper.
A passing Voxen in a tour group here to see the great city pesters his Chakat tour-guide about 'that odd looking human' he just spotted. As the Chakat in question scans the crowd upon his insistence, failing to see anything amiss.
The man in question continues walking, helping an elderly fur across the street. The fur thanking him profusely and commenting that he's a rarity these days.
Every strand of fur on a passing Rakashani stands on end in alarm. Here only to see why his sister chose a human to add to their house and nothing else. Stands stark still as the man passes beside him. Feeling instead his specie's goddess of death just passed him by rather than though all he can see is the mid day crowd of business men, women, and furs who surround him.
Only to get bumped into by a passerby, and yelled at for being a stupid tourist. If it wasn't for sheer fear of his life, he would punt the human across the street.
The man continues on, not noticing, or more likely ignoring the near street rage incident.
Soon stopping in the small psudo park of tended grass and tall trees in front of his destination. The fifty odd story skyscraper of a bank branch. He admires the view, marveling at the construction and reminiscing on simpler times.
Thoughts of when buildings were less elegant, smaller, and cruder. Even the sky scrapers from before the Gene War pale in the new artisan style.
Then again a simple peasant's hovel had more character than 'brutalist' style of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries he mentally frowns.
A cait, low ranking wife in a mixed species house, stops in her tracks on her way to the same bank to secure a loan for family vehicle. Frozen from a force none of her five senses could pick out and yet, something primal screams at her to go away, far away. There's danger here and you WILL die if you stay.
To the confusion of the humans and furs milling about the park like area, she heeds this unknown instinct, making upmost haste in the opposite direction of the well dressed man. Even as he politely holds a door open for a young fur couple.
Seemingly oblivious to the scene he smiles and thinks to himself. 'After all chivalry isn't dead as long as there's still one practicing it.'
Something in the air shifts, the constant hum and drum of activity in the front lobby. Customers, Clerks, the few living tellers, even those there to just use the V.I. run glorified ATM's. All of them stop what they're doing and look over to the well dressed man who just entered.
Humans and those who's species were made or uplifted by human hands silently go back to what they were doing, paying him no more of their attention. Those that aren't human though, suddenly have an instinctual urge to be 'elsewhere' and quickly indulge in it.
All the while the well dressed man walks up to a guarded corridor. Leading further into the bank, a place only employees and very special people can access.
"May I help you?" the imposing lion-taur bars his way.
'Of course they would have one of them. rare they may be weremic's or weremec's make imposing security guards.' The well dressed man reaches for a inner pocket of his suit jacket. internally grinning at the large fur's muscles flexing.
'like that would help you if i wanted to enter without permission.'
Pulling out a wallet he flips it open to show his id.
Relaxing, and putting on his best customer service smile, the lion-taur steps out of the way upon reading it.
"Oh I was told to expect you Mr. Ducal. Though, considering why, i would've expected you to have more security."
Politely smiling, he pockets his wallet. "It's fine, and you can call me by my first name, Marve."
With a wave of his hand he motions further into the building. "I have an appointment to keep and such things drain more time than they're actually worth. The key is to act like you actually belong where ever your at and people in general just fail to notice you as anything important."
