With a sigh and another knock of the forehead, Kirby entered untouched territory.
Kirby Case was standing between the points of their career.
Well, less standing and more sitting. Still, the tension in their seat remained all the same as their director across from them silently scrolled through what Case presumed to be their file—more specifically, a report on their most recent field mission. They were sent in with a team of agents, to capture a breached thaumaturgist spotted going into a nearby forest. Was the mission a success? Sure. But not without its fair share of… issues.
"Do you know why I called you here, Agent Case?" the director asked, his cold tone sending a shiver down their spine.
Even with the answer in mind, Kirby feigned ignorance. "Have I done something to upset you, sir?"
"It's regarding your latest excursion. After reviewing it, I've noticed a glaring issue that's been hindering your overall performance."
"The mission was a success, sir. I'm not sure what you could be referring to."
Case raised an eyebrow, which the director responded to by letting out a long sigh. As a field agent, they didn't see much beyond the battlefield. They were only familiar with the cycle of assignments and preparation for said assignments. The armor Kirby wore might as well be part of their body with how rarely they'd be seen taking it off.
And with a dedicated soldier like them, they didn't usually interact outside such circumstances.
"I'm referring to the number of casualties, they're alarming for basically a small-scale mission. Last I recalled, you were supposed to usher it back into containment without aggravating it."
"That's what I did. It simply refused to listen and began attacking us."
The director turned to the stoic agent, leaning forward so they could hear him clearly. Case backed away while readjusting themselves in the rather uncomfortable office chair.
"Here, let me make it simple for you, agent: You struggle at communication."
He proceeded to shift his laptop to face them, highlighting a number of questionable lines:
Case: If you don't return to your cell immediately, there will be severe punishment.
[…]
Case: We're not here to listen to your demands. It's either you come with us now or we'll be forced to do it ourselves. Do you understand?
[…]
Case: Comply. Now. This is your final warning.
Kirby paused, remaining clueless to the problem at hand. The director sighed again.
"Sentient anomalies still experience emotion, and they can easily feel threatened. This is especially the case considering how you went with your approach. I can tell you're taking it seriously—you are one of our most competent agents on the field, trust me—but mitigating situations like these has been nothing but difficult on your end."
"Is it not advisable to establish a sense of authority?" The agent tilted their head to the side.
The director rubbed his eyes. "I'm not saying it isn't. My point is: You should word these sort of phrases better if you want to leave these tasks unscathed."
"But I've received minimal injuries, sir."
"Your partners, Case. You're not the only one on the field. Like I've said, they're suffering from various wounds. Almost lethal, might I add. This is what we're trying to avoid."
Kirby blinked twice. "It's what's to be expected, though, is it not?"
The director crossed his arms. "Even then, it's not an excuse to be reckless. If you want to minimize the chance of another incident like this occurring, I suggest you learn how to speak to people with more… empathy. Or at least act as if you actually care."
He lifted a finger, putting emphasis on his next line. "Communication is key, agent."
Case saw it tedious, to use not their hands but their words as a weapon. In their own bubble, you can achieve much with a heightened stance and a firearm. Anywhere else, though, they had much to learn. The puzzled agent darted their sights to the ground, a wave of thoughts washing over them. This was one mission they couldn't really prepare for, after all.
"What do you suggest I do then, sir?" they stammered through hints of confusion.
It was the director's turn to raise his eyebrow, as he wasted no time on his response. "Improve your conversational skills, obviously. You need to talk to more people, get to know the staff that make up our barrier against the unknown."
He paused before taking out a sheet of paper from underneath the desk. Kirby blinked.
"And lucky for you, I know just the place."
…
"This can't be happening."
Kirby left the nest, and they couldn't look back. They instead faced the stretching road separating the sands of midday Arizona, sun and cacti as far as the eye can see. A piece of paper rested on the passenger seat beside them, one 'Notice of Transfer' to a pocket-sized facility: Site-169.
"How is this happening?"
The agent pondered under the dry taste of the atmosphere, a question of the century. When the director mentioned of a solution, they didn't figure they'd be handed off to the hands of another branch—let alone one with such a divisive position among other branches.
AEED, short for the Anomalous Entity Engagement Division, is a department dedicated to creating a healthy bond between anomalies and personnel. From movie nights and birthday bashes to an assortment of recreational activities in between, their methods of confinement are an antithesis to Case's beliefs. You would think a simple icebreaking with the people in their circle or a series of counselling sessions would be enough, but forcing them to work for essentially a daycare is plain ridiculous. 'At least it's only a temporary measure,' they thought.
Unsurprisingly, not many people were keen on the practices that make up the AEED. The fair majority of them viewed their purpose of "humanizing" the process as a means to goof off under their definition of responsibility. Kirby was part of this crowd, having a sour lens on this almost alien branch of the Foundation. It must be fate, then, that brought them to their headquarters.
There it was in the distance, a lone site standing on a bed of unfamiliar ideals. The agent sighed, retracing the events leading up to this development. It may not be favorable, but the AEED wasn't downright impractical. Words of mouth noted how more cooperative these skips had become after a trip to the division's base of operations, so maybe they'd know a thing or two on how to soften the blow of Case's delivery. Nowhere to go but forward.
It was only then that Kirby realized they were already at the front gate. A guard walked to the vehicle's side and they slid down their window.
"Hello, my previous director sent me here for a temporary exchange program."
The agent wanted nothing but to stay away from the burning rays and hopefully whatever else this facility had to offer outside of basic necessities. Shooting a blank stare at the guard, he put a hand to his chin before leaning his head back in realization.
"Oh, Agent Case! Yeah, we've been told you'd arrive soon. Great to have you on board."
"Right, right…" Kirby held back a disappointed sigh.
After an obligatory check for credentials, the gate swung open. Case stared into the next however-long-it-takes working in this site. They couldn't help but squint.
"Welcome to our humble site then, partner. Enjoy your sta-"
Driving past that last line, the agent quickly proceeded to the facility's two-story vehicle storage and found a place to park. In an attempt to wake themselves up, they knocked their forehead on the steering wheel while constantly recounting every mile it took to make it here. It would be unwise to drive away now, even if they had to sit through a straining number of playtimes to leave otherwise. If they were going to be a better public speaker, they had no other choice.
With a sigh and another knock of the forehead, Kirby entered untouched territory.
…
The air felt thicker than usual. Case felt their skin itching from how… welcoming the environment was, eyeing the collection of drawings plastered on a nearby wall. They might as well be put to early retirement with how friendly the place seemed, meaning they'd be stuck doing less missions and more tea parties. They weren't ready to abandon their post just yet.
Muddled of thoughts, Kirby heard a voice creeping from behind them.
"Ah, you must be the new transfer."
Jerking their head to the source, the agent was met with a man of shorter stature, bearing aging hair and a pair of suspenders. A pause followed as they locked eyes with one another.
The old man cleared his throat. "Welcome, Agent Case. I'm Moses Feghoot, the site director."
Another pause found its way between them before Kirby recalled the voice in their throat.
"Oh, hello. Thank you for having me."
"Likewise," Feghoot replied shortly afterward. "I can tell you're not yet accustomed here—not a surprise considering your track record. I'm still getting used to it myself, but I'm sure you'll do fine."
He gestured to the hallway on their left, leaving the agent with a mixture of uncertainty and nervousness painted on their face. 'Still getting used to it?' The words echoed in their mind, an odd greeting at the very least. Was Site-169's director talking through his mouth or theirs? Regardless though, they proceeded to follow Mr. Feghoot past the entrance.
Their skin itched a bit more as they paved their way through the corridor, trailing behind the aged director. An assortment of somethings caught Kirby's eye: people having casual talk, occasional laughter here and there. What felt odd wasn't the frequency of balancing work and conversation, but certain features with some of them. Their skins looked texturally dissimilar, their voices sound unnaturally pitched, and they swore one had an extra appendage or two protruding from their back. Case then came to realize that they weren't just people, they were anomalies. They were out and about, conversing without so much as a guard or a wall between them. The lack of repercussions despite this baffled the agent. How was this even allowed?
It took them another second to notice how unapologetically they were staring at the passing crowd. Kirby refocused their gaze to the man in front of them.
He sighed. "I swear, all they do is talk, all they do is play. I feel like I'm the only one working."
There it was again. Case's eyebrow raised, followed by a tilt of the head.
"I'm sorry?" they blurted out of the blue.
Moses glanced to his side. "Don't mind me, I'm merely thinking out loud."
"No, it's just-" the agent clicked their tongue. "Hearing that from the director of this site is a surprise. I figured you'd be the one encouraging these sort of… activities."
"You got one thing right: I'm this facility's director. Someone else handles the department itself."
Kirby almost stopped in their place, but their legs persisted.
The director continued, "All these glitters and stars don't sit well with me. I've only been assigned here to make sure this ship's up and running behind the scenes. You couldn't pay me to play pretend with these misfits."
Hearing that aloud was even more of a shock to process. At the same time, though, Case almost felt relieved knowing they won't be the only one sitting uncomfortably in their seat.
They murmured, "At least someone here has a sense of logic."
Just as the thought came, so did they as they emerged into the AEED's main headquarters. The windows to their side revealed a number of personnel playing fetch with some balloon animals. Kirby already felt exhausted from standing here, observing their almost pinkish surroundings. It only took a few more steps until they were at their final destination.
"Anyways, this is where I'll leave you to her."
Snapping back to reality, Case turned to Feghoot as he stood by an entrance.
He gestured to it, his other hand behind his back. "She wouldn't stop insisting on doing her 'tour,' so she'll be taking over in my stead. It's for the better, honestly. I tend to avoid whatever nonsense goes on around here for the most part."
The director dusted off his shirt before patting the agent on their shoulder.
"I'll see you around, agent. Don't let her overwhelm you too much."
And just like that, he was gone. Case remained in place for a few moments before fixing their gaze on the wooden door before them. It was painted over in an array of colorful hues, a shimmering placard in the middle. They traced their gaze over each individual letter.
AMELIE R. METANOIA
DIRECTOR OF AEED
It was almost ironic how the director of an entire department couldn't be given her own site to manage. Kirby wondered again how this even came to be in the first place, when such a decision was made. Now, this same division had been tasked with taking the strain off of their way of speech. Even for the Foundation, it was downright bizarre.
If this could improve their performance as a field agent, then so be it. Case knocked on the door, a stern expression dotting their face. After a few seconds, a woman spoke from the other side.
"Jameson, is that you? Don't worry, I'm putting the finishing touches on your friend here. He's just a strong little robot, isn't he?"
The agent cleared their throat. "It's me, the new transfer."
A momentary shuffle was heard, before a response. "Mx. Case! Oh, you're finally here."
"Yes, I was told you'd be showing me around this place. Do I have permission to enter, ma'am?" they spoke through a drier tone than usual.
"Of course, of course. Please, come in."
Kirby tried not to sigh, at least not audibly. They took ahold of the doorknob, a tightening sensation growing before fading away. Pushing the door open, they made their way inside.
…
"How was the trip? I hope sunny old Arizona didn't get you too warmed up."
"I've been trained to handle a wide range of environments, ma'am. I'm quite fine."
Admittedly, the couch Case rested on was pretty comfy. The same could not be easily said with the rest of the office, a cluttered space of knickknacks and the like. Photos, drawings, playthings, and other miscellaneous items found home within the confines of this space. Metanoia herself was apparently fixing a toy robot one of the anomalies had broken on accident.
"I could offer you something to drink, if you'd like. Maybe some tea?" she offered while putting away the little fellow.
The agent put a hand against it. "No thank you, Ms. Metanoia. I'd like to move this tour along quickly. I'm sure you must have a busy schedule."
She chuckled under her breath, leaning forward slightly. "Just call me Amy, dear."
Kirby shot a blank stare at Amy as she grinned, tapping their foot.
"Besides-" the department head continued. "-there's no need to rush things. I was hoping I could get to know you better once we're in person, have a brief conversation. There's only so much a handful of documents can tell you about someone, you know."
"So you've read my file?" the agent asked, with her nodding in response. "Then you should know about my position as a field agent, a rather capable one at that. And you should know of the many expeditions I've carried throughout my years as a field agent."
Amelie nodded again. "Yes, you seem to be very experienced."
Case paused for a moment before proceeding. "I'm sent in to capture anomalies and to ensure they stay captured. I don't believe letting them roam around the facility counts as being 'captured.' Frankly, I think it's very much the opposite of what would be considered containment."
Pause. Kirby held their breath. "To put it simply, I don't agree with the practices you have here. Our current procedures are sufficient enough. I'm only here for one thing, and I'm sure you're very much aware of it. If anything, I would rather focus on my lack of 'leniency' than doing… arts-and-crafts or playing games. This program is only temporary, so I wouldn't want to intrude."
Amy tilted her head, silently listening as they go on.
The agent gripped onto their knees. "I only ask of you to put me in security, assign me someone for the purposes of my transfer. I'll be out of your hair soon enough. Trust me."
Case bit their tongue. It was as if they formed a ball of their every frustration and threw it for Metanoia to catch. They were speaking words of honesty, sure, but being this blunt to the director overseeing your development was a bold move to say the least. On the off chance they would be sent back from whence they came, they wouldn't have to uphold a face for these people. They'd certainly get an earful from their sender, but any alternative was a way out in their eyes. Either that, or they would have an awkward time 'having fun' under the guise of 'making progress.'
And so, they sat with a familiar tension as Amelie nodded alongside their remarks. With a sharp inhale, she smiled at the agent.
"If that's what you prefer, then of course. I'll be sure to get a counsellor to help you personally."
Kirby stopped, letting the words sink in. "Really?"
The department head reaffirmed them, "Well, I wouldn't want to force you to do anything you're not keen to, Case dear. Our division is focused on building a welcoming environment for everyone alike. And if that's what makes you comfortable, then we'll respect your wishes."
'She must be very lenient if she accepted my request that easily,' they thought. They expected at least a sugarcoated scolding, but the AEED seemed true to its beliefs. Even in the face of someone against them, it made no difference. The agent didn't know whether these folks were truly kind or plain pushovers, but being able to sever any forced bonds was more than enough for them to be content. The only face they needed to fake now was for themselves.
It was only a matter of time until they left.
"Well," Kirby started, relieved of any third-party unnecessities. "I do appreciate your consideration, Ms. Metanoia-"
"Amy," she interjected. Silence nestled in temporarily.
"…Amy," Case corrected themselves before proceeding to their next request. "Could we possibly move on with the tour, then? I aim to finish here sooner rather than later, so getting this out of the way would really benefit that."
"Yes, yes. I wouldn't want to keep you waiting. Let's get on with it, shall we?"
Getting up and dusting her old suit, Amelie took to the door with the agent right behind. As she grabbed the doorknob, she turned to them with one last statement.
"I really do hope you enjoy your stay here, Mx. Case. While our views may not entirely align, we'll still treat you as a caretaker all the same."
"Caretaker?" the term caught their ears.
"Oh, that's just what we call ourselves. Started with one of our friends saying it when we were smaller, and it just caught on after a while. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Kirby clicked their tongue. "It certainly is a term. I can't see myself associated with it, however."
"Nonsense, dear. I'm sure you'd make for a great one."
Metanoia was turning the handle before quickly going over the tour in her head, having a sudden realization. She decided to give a heads-up while she had the time.
"Ah, now that I'm thinking about it: There's something I should confess in advance."
"What is it?" the agent asked, trying to hold back another sigh.
"I do apologize, since you've made the effort of expressing your distaste of it, but… I have planned a number of activities throughout the course of this tour. We tend to make preparations for anyone transferring to our department as a way to properly welcome them, and I don't want to cancel things last minute. So if you could share a bit more of your time, that would be perfect."
Pause. Kirby blinked a number of times.
"Again, I apologize for the inconvenience."
Another pause. The director laughed it off, trying to lighten the mood as the entrance swung open. Case stood before a fun-filled journey that was about to begin, something unavoidable.
"…What?"
