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Summary: Pvt. Mod gets despondent at work and wants a change of scenery, however she's convinced to choose a different option by General Mustang.
(I'm referring to Ed Mod as "she" for convenience.)
It had become too muchā¦
The hours, the stress, the anxietyā¦
Maybe her siblings were right, sheād amount to nothing; always an inky shadow. A discarded mistake playing pretend and living amongst those who aimed to destroy the Sins of her Father.
Sheād heard the rumors of the corruption clouding the walls of the city, it had been overrun by "them" during her time in hiding, not that she needed rumors to confirm for herself...
However, as the years flew and she stayed the same, ageless in her endeavorsā¦ she had learned to make peace with the fact she wouldāve never been good enough. Not to her "family", nor the very humans she acquainted with had they known the truth.
Was it good fortune that sheād made friends with her idol after admiring him from afar all those years? Or a misfortune?
Sheād told herself this job would only be temporary to help her beloved put bread on the table, not that she needed it, but that sweet tooth sheād developed was becoming quite the burden. It wasn't bothersome to her beloved, what made him happy was being able to "feed" her.
Like before, it had become too muchā¦
The weight of it all, the constant dialing, the ringing, and rejections based on what the higher-ups called "lame excuses".
Playing human is hard.
She sighed as she leaned back on her chair and stared at nothing; always wondering "what was it all for?" to herself.
"Cl. Hawkeye? Could I talk to you in private?" she asked wearily.
Cl. Hawkeye was always kind enough to usher her in the conference room whenever she needed to have a brief talk with someone in private. All the incessant calling was slowly driving her to madness, God knows the Colonel probably already knew why the office was always empty in the first place. Cold Calling might as well be one of the forgotten Circles of Hell.
"Whatās this about, Private?"
She hesitated.
"I wanted to present my two weeks notice..."
"I see... What may be the reason for your abrupt departure?"
She couldnāt bring herself to do it, to prove she lied in her interview. She remembered what she wore that day as if it were yesterday, or maybe it was given her perception of time as a near-immortal creation.
Black shirt, black pants, black shoes... Blond locks tied in a pony tail, and a red cardigan to keep her warm under the cool air of the Generalās office. She had never seen him up close before but she knew the interviewer had been Cl. Hawkeye over the phone, all the more to weed out the unqualified souls who wish to meet with the head honcho for the final stage of evaluation.
She recalled it was a Monday when she first saw him, clad in his uniform and looking as handsome as one could be for his age; scribbling away at some uninteresting paperwork.
He looked up at her and for a moment she felt his slightly widened eyes linger on her for a bit longer than they shouldāve... she felt a twinge of familiarity coming from those eyes so she made a mental note to wave it off. Not that she felt uncomfortable, she just wasnāt expecting it, much less the smirk forming on his lips.
"You must be the new recruit Iāve heard so much about. I was told you passed your first interview with flying colors." He said as he stood up from his chair, "Iām Gen. Roy Mustang, a pleasure." the General said proudly as he extended his hand to shake hers firmly.
She remembered his hand felt quite calloused, he was a working man she guessed.
"So how did you hear of this opening?" he asked nicely.
"A friend of mine. He works in the facility here as the warehouse keep?" she said, "He mentioned there was a job opening so I wanted to try something new."
She had been coached by her beloved not to mention she had a boyfriend working at HQ, after all, they wouldnāt be allowed to date according to the policies. It's not like theyād even be in the same department to begin with, but better safe than sorry.
"Yes, Iām assuming he mustāve been the reference you added in your resume. He gave quite the good word for you. Please, sit." said the General as he showed her to the nearby couch.
It was comfortable worn leather, she noticed a few cracks here and there probably from how old it mustāve been... The General took a seat back on his desk and shuffled through a small pile of paperwork.
"To be perfectly honest," he started, "I think youād make a great edition to the team."
She smiled.
"However, I still have a few questions for you..." he said as he interlaced his fingers as if plotting, "how do you handle stressful situations?"
As expected from an interview involving minimum wage customer service...
"I found that empathy tends to be the best answer. You never know what the other person is going through so the best you can offer is a gentle apology... After that, if itās too much... I just walk away for a good 5 minutes to cool off, and try my best again."
He stared at her in unreadable thought. Then smirked.
"Thatās quite the appropriate answer. Whatās your greatest strength then? Any weaknesses?"
"One would say that Iām good at inkingā¦"
He looked intrigued as he raised an eyebrow.
"Not like thatā Iām somewhat of an artist you seeā¦ I fill in the inks on paper?"
He nodded at the added context, then she brushed loose strands of hair behind her ear.
"My weakness used to be myā¦ Iād say my shyness? If it werenāt for my friend pushing me to interact with others more often I wouldnāt have gotten used to putting myself out there. My uh, Dad, was the antisocial type so I never got to speak to people much back thenā¦"
And just like that, his smug nature was etched into her memory, almost as if it really was yesterdayā¦
"Iām impressed." He said.
Now she was back to the presence of her Colonel.
"No reason. I just thought Iād spread my wings and try something new..." she lied.
"This wouldnāt have anything to do with that last call, would it?"
"Itās not that I donāt want to serve, I just donāt want to be inconvenienced especially when youāre all so unorganized." that damn voice resonated...
"No, I think itās just been a long time coming." a half-truth.
"I have a busy life you know, I have no interest in driving halfway across town just to sign off on paperwork. I donāt like being inconvenienced."
"Then go to the nearest recruitment center, idiot. Itās only a 15 minute drive for you, why insist on a specific goddamn location?" She thought to herself during the ordeal. "My apologies..." she had stated, "but we have been trying to reach you for over a year in regards to your last experience for feedback purposes but we kept getting straight to voicemail. Had the phone been answered sooner there wouldāve been time to rectify the āerrorā seeing as though this stems from a lack of communication. We may have even been able to report it." She had fought back as professionally as she could.
"I donāt like being inconvenienced just because youāre unorganized. I know you need help and all, and I know of my skill set, but you can just stop calling me, ok? God bless you." Then the repetition-obsessed bastard would hang up.
Who in the ever loving fuck did this guy think he is? For a mere officer rank, he sure acted like an entitled Major General.
"Can I assume you found a different job to fall back on?" asked Cl. Hawkeye.
"I... might apply at the library in town... Iāve been around books all my life, I might as well..." but the library was the last thing she wanted.
Running around the entire fortress of books of her last job exhausted her. Not to mention there was an uproar involving all the minimum wage employees, other managers included, accusing the general manager of wage theft by clocking out everyone for half hour breaks they clearly didnāt take. And balancing on top of that was the regional manager's whistle blowing, having called out the manager and listing every single one of the workers who had mentioned a non-consensual change in their break schedules. Highly illegal.
In the end, it took one of the assistant managers threatening to call the department of labor that it finally got the general manager fired. Everyone jumped from the sinking ship soon after that fiasco and it was her beloved who introduced the idea of working for HQ instead.
HQ, where it all began... What was it even all for?
Cl. Hawkeye looked lost in thought. "Private..." she started, "ever since you started working in this department, our recruitment numbers have been going up. Are you sure you donāt want to give it a second thought? We could really use your efforts at handling our service men over the phone."
She stopped to think... Could she really handle more verbal abuse and the garbage excuses of the human race? Urgent, Critical, Emergency... How annoying...
"I donāt think Iām doing a good job, Colonel..."
The Colonel pauses.
"Why is that?"
"Surely you must know my numbers have been dwindling... Itās getting harder and... harder, to meet my quota and keep up morale. I donāt know if itās the integration of the new listing system, if itās them being difficult, or if itās just meā¦ I donāt feel competent enough to continue working in this department."
Cl. Hawkeye thought for a moment, but she merely interlaced her fingers on the table gracefully.
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Iāll inform Management of your concerns. Go on and continue your shift, Iāll monitor your calls in order to make a more informed report."
"Thank you."
Then she sat back down at her cubicle, back to that Tenth Circle of Hell. But it wasnāt all bad, she had made friends with that idol of hersā¦ who for some reason assumed she was a boy and everyone else played off on that around him? But she didn't mind, in fact, it made her feel closer to him.
"What did you guys talk about? Dāyou get in trouble with the Colonel?" Asked Edward.
"Nothing like that. Just spoke to her about my concerns over the new systemā¦ Itās not fair, like you said."
"I told you! Itās stupid that weāre being evaluated on things out of our control! What kind of bull crap is that for minimum wage?!"
"Arenāt you a Major and Gen. Mustangās old subordinate? You can easily fight for a better wage. Do it for me too while youāre at it" She commented.
"I donāt wanna try fighting him again. Last time that happened, I nearly got my hair burnt off." He said as he tugged at his ponytail, "I know better than to bet on the wrong horse like thatā¦ Wait, donāt laughā"
She laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, his last name's Mustang! Big deal!"
"Right," she chuckled, "but at least itās only for 5 hours. Iāve never been able to just sit back in an air conditioned room and get paid for practically doing nothing, and drawā¦"
"True. When are you gonna show me your drawings anyway? I wanna see what youāre really made of."
"Uhā¦" she hid her shameful, shameful pictures in her mini drawerā¦ "Maybe some other time? I left my drawing pad at home." She explained with a nervous laugh.
"Iāll hold you to that then!" He seemed excited.
Then they continued their work for the rest of their shift.
On the very next day she had been requested to come into the office of the General himself. She wondered if she had gotten in trouble for complaining or blaming all of her work problems on the new system instead of adapting like an obedient dog, but it was the Colonel herself that escorted her to his office. Now she was worried.
"The General will see you now." Cl. Hawkeye said with a gentle smile in her eyes.
She walked into his office and stood silently in front of his desk. As usual, he was fiddling with paperwork he couldnāt be more unenthusiastic about.
Then he finally looked up at her, his expression shifted to a more neutral one.
"Hawkeye has informed me of the recent drop in your numbers."
"Iām aware, Sir. Iāve already presented my resignation, you wonāt have to worry about my recent failuresā"
"At ease." He ordered.
She flinched. It wasnāt a reprimand, nor irritation in his voice. It was just firm and reassuring.
"As you probably already know, the new system has several bugs in it and IT has been hard at work since the implementation last month." He stated, "I realize it may be much to ask of our schedulers to keep their recruitment rates up during the testing period, but believe me when I say you and Fullmetalā Maj. Elric, have the highest rates compared to when you both started."
"Sir, I canātā"
"Iām saying, maybe instead of resigningā¦ why not try transferring to a different department for a bit?"
"Transfer?"
"I remember your friend on your resume saying you adapt quite quickly to any assignment given to you. I want to see that for myself. If the call center isnāt really your thing, thereās always other options."
"Which department?" She asked almost begrudgingly. What did her beloved tell this man 7 months ago?
"Records."
"Records?" She echoed, "isnāt that only for authorized personnel?"
"Iām inclined to authorize you, given your concise and carefully worded reports during your time in the call center. One could say someone with a special hand at using ink would be an invaluable asset, that's something you said you were efficient with if I recallā¦ but in the end, itās really your choice."
"Soā¦ what? Iād just be filing papers all day?" She tried her best to hide the grimace.
"And edit, and organize, and in some instances destroy." He said with a carefree smile.
"Sounds boringā¦"
"You should try doing my job." He chuckled. "But if you donāt want to give it a try thereās always room in my office for an assistant."
"Iāll take the Records." She didnāt hesitate. The General smiled smugly like he got what he gambled for. Although he wasnāt getting a pretty assistant, he was sure sheād make a helluva Records Specialist.
Damn, heās goodā¦
But now the shadow loomed. Would she tell her idol of her transferring, her only friend? Would he miss her? Could she even dare to imagine that heād transfer with her as well? Unlikelyā¦
"Wow, a summons from the General bastard himself? Who'd you kill? Did you deny everything?" Edward joked.
"Maj. Edward, please! It was just a small report. I told Cl. Hawkeye about the crappy list system and I guess Gen. Mustang wanted to know more of the sourceā¦" she lied.
I shouldn't tell him, he wouldn't care... It's not like he'd drop everything just to hang out with a work friend. I'm the one who stepped into his life anyway.
"Oh, cool. Maybe now my numbers won't look as bad. What on earth was that bastard thinking changing the system like that."
"How many did you get so far though?"
"Two."
"One."
They sighed and got back to work, getting paid to listen to the phone ring, those people no doubt had HQ's number blockedā¦
Ah, HQ would simply not let her go, would it? Not even after running away from it 13 years agoā¦ First the constant belittling of her siblings, then the verbal abuse, and now an unplanned transfer.
"Hey, Modā¦"
"Yeah?"
"I don't say this as often as I should, but when you're running around being surrounded by the personification of your mistakes, you tend to take the people you know for grantedā¦"
What was he going on about?
"I think you're pretty cool to hang out withā¦ I never made that many friends aside from those before theā¦" he paused to sigh, "you help make this job be a little less unbearable."
It truly has become too muchā¦
Epilogue:
Cl. Hawkeye walked into the General's office after both Mod and Edward's shifts had ended for the day.
He stood there looking out the window, silently watching them part ways at the gate. They looked like good friends, he thought to himself.
"I take it you convinced Pvt. Mod to accept the transfer." Said Cl. Hawkeye.
"I did." Replied the General.
Her stoic gaze didn't leave the back of his head as he continued to stare out the window.
"You tried to make Mod your personal assistant, didn't you?" She stated more than she asked.
As if being caught he looks back in mild disappointed. His master plan had been foiled.
"I wouldn't call it that. I offered a good opportunity working directly under me. It would've looked good on a resume." He said defeated.
"Just because you think having an assistant will make your job easier doesn't mean your work will be done for you." She said as she handed him a pile of papers for him to sign. They plopped with a thud on his desk, and he looked at them with a grimace.
"These need to be done by the end of the day."
Then she dismissed herself, leaving the General alone to facepalm in his office. So much for his master planā¦
Author's Notes:
Before you comment, I really don't want to hear "I'm sorry you had to deal with that" it's fine, really; it's just something I have to deal with every day to make ends meet. I would prefer to live off my art but I can't due to current circumstances. It's just self-fiction based on my life so it has a more realistic feel to it. I wanted to make Ed Mod a more grounded and realistic character with realistic problems and this is what I came up with.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
