Paragon

⊰❉⊱ 65 ⊰❉⊱

"The best index to a person's character is how he treats people who can't do him any good, and how he treats people who can't fight back."

― Abigail Van Buren

"Jamerson."

"Ma'am, how was your evening..." He ventured, with a smirk in his voice.

I sighed and tucked my hands into my trench coat as I walked through Hyde Park. Winter was in full swing and the bite of frost hadn't been chased away just yet.

"Eventful."

He chuckled. "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"

"The Vault, around six this evening. I'm going to need some good wine."

"Very well, Ms Fletcher. I will be there." He answered promptly.

"Thank you." I pocketed the phone and gazed out across the half frozen lake. A few swans dared to brave its icy clutches.

The walk from Quinn's had given me time to reflect. I needed a purpose. That meant a job. Something to put these powers to use. A detective had worked well, but it wasn't the only sector that could use my... skills.

Perhaps a little less violence would be a nice change. 

But this city knew plenty of that. And those on the wrong side of it. I increased my pace and reached the final path before the trees would emerge before a sleek row of glass and modernity. My shoes echoed off the polished lobby floor and caught the attention of the first receptionist. Upon recognition she smiled warmly and murmured a good morning. I nodded and mirrored my own greeting before I made my way to the lift and scanned my building card.

It was still a marvel that Quinn Adams had made it past four members of security, a receptionist and a secure lift all with that sharp wit. I snorted as the doors opened to my familiar space.

I paced past the plush furnishings and sat before the long oak desk, stood before the floor to ceiling glass. The most perfect view and one of few where you could gaze upon treetops in the middle of the city.

I quickly typed across the integrated keyboard and drew up my results. Immortals didn't do this. They didn't merge themselves into mortal society. As for Elders..? They sat themselves inside that insidious hall in Bank and drank their fill. I shuddered to think of what else filled their time.

I scanned through many careers. There were so many.

Endless in their similarity and forcing one to sit in the same four walled room and "manage" or "engage with clients". If I had to read one more claim of, "an exciting, fast-paced work environment", I would break the table. Did none of these mortals have any originality anymore? Perhaps technology had eradicated most of that.

I sighed and pushed back in my office chair, letting it spin. Hopeless.

There had to be something I could be of use towards. Other than making another mortal money.

My phone vibrated.

I drew it up to my face.

"What are you doing, immortal?"

I smiled at the phone slowly.

"Nothing useful. Have you skirted around any laws today?"

"The day is still young. And I have a new skirt."

A very pleasant visual image of my hands tearing through one of Quinn's pencil skirts appeared. I stopped my spin in my chair.

"I wouldn't know anything about that, Lawyer. I've spent my morning reading uninspired career opportunities."