Thread: The Struggle for Power (Sumi & Alan23)

Jak studied the form carefully. Much of it was fairly routine. Name. Age. Previous experience in an office environment that one didn't take long. Medical history nothing significant. Sex frequently. Ambition stay out of jail. Reason for applying to join company the single word forced. Simply because he wasn't sure he could spell compelled. After that, things became more complicated. Questions about his philosophy of life. His view of various political issues. Favorite music and movies. He couldn't see the point of that, even if he had been a proper applicant. Finally, he compromised by simply scrawling na in each space. After all, he reasoned, there was one bright spot about this. He was guaranteed the job! He was chafing about her remarks, her arrogant assumption that anyone could be rich. It was a line he heard frequently from the well-off. Whether or not it was to hide their guilt at their fortunate circumstances, or they genuinely believed that everyone had the same start, and rising or falling was just a matter of enterprise, he'd never quite been able to work out. Probably, he thought, a mixture. Some - like Iris - genuinely thought they were in positions of power and prestige by divine right, and that it owed nothing to being given everything by a rich, doting daddy. For a few seconds he gave himself up to a delicious fantasy about Iris suddenly finding herself on the streets, among the Ravenbloods, and just how she'd cope - or not. There were girls there no older than fourteen who could have slit her to pieces. He found himself studying her. No ring on her thin fingers, so no husband or fiancee. Boyfriend? Well, his natural thoughts would be to assume she had someone, for surely no one as good looking as her - and he had to admit she looked pretty hot in that tight blouse and skirt - surely wouldn't be alone by choice. She was looking down at a piece of paper, pretending to be busy. He wasn't fooled. He'd never worked in an office, but even he knew that most work today was done by computer. And her eyes kept flicking up, looking at him, when she thought he wasn't watching. It gave him some satisfaction that she remembered him from schooldays. She'd had the hots for him then, all right. Could it be that some of that still lingered? It would explain a lot! Why she was dressed to kill, why her lipstick was redder and brighter than most businesswomen he saw about the streets. Why she'd let her skirt ride up. It could even explain her resentment. A woman scorned... though surely, she'd have to be pretty neurotic to still think about that, so many years later. Iris, he said at last, I think I do have some questions. You did say I could ask you anything, right? Well, I've been wondering. He gave a smile, that was just a hair's breadth away from being facetious. The smile guaranteed to drive anyone in authority mad. It used to work perfectly on teachers, he recalled. What made you say that about being a man in woman's clothing? I didn't say that? Did someone else say it? Or is it some idea you made up yourself? Why would an office as prestigious as this want a convicted crim working in full view of everyone. I mean, it's hardly a great advertisement, is it? And for that matter, if you are hiring felons, why pick me, of all people? He had an idea about that last question. A small thought that was stirring in the back of his mind. He was a child of the streets, not used to being pushed around. But, despite his upbringing, he was no fool. He knew that the best way to fight a battle was with the tools at hand. He couldn't rip Iris Augustine to pieces with a blade. Fine. But there were other ways to fight. And, oh yes, did he have an idea about that.