Corporate Red Tape

Jack being gone. My paperwork always having coffee rings on it. That lack of an incessant grind on my mind that comes with having to pick up around the world's messiest subordinate. I'm a Shadow. It's not my job to intervene unless ordered, or if I fucking felt like it. Usually I fucking felt like it. Get off my back. She's a grown woman. In a way, it felt like a vacation. Another thing I hate. Vacations. There's so much to not do in Underland, especially when you're supposed to be the Number 2 on high seat and can't actually go out on missions with the Rabbits. When it's actually normal around here for a change. As normal as a mysterious magically protected sanctuary protected by an elder council of god knows how many high table eldritch creatures gets anyway. How nothing smells like lavender and sage anymore. Usually that stuffs gets to creatures like me. Not having it around doesn't feel right. How I somehow miss being kicked in ...

Loud shuffling. Clatter of closet doors. Drawers rustling. It’s breaking my concentration. Over.. Whatever the hell I’m signing at my desk. It looks like it’s requisition forms. Or some shit. I don’t know. I’m trying to ignore that fucking incessant noise. It’s Jack, I’m pretty sure. Rummaging around her room like she has been for the past few hours. And then there it was, a hard thump on my door. Followed by several furious raps.  And then a voice. Jack’s. Except it wasn’t her usual viciously dour tone coming through the hard-wooden frame.  “Tag. Open the door. It’s… important.” she stated, more matter of factly. I growled, grumbled, and got up to open the door. There she was. Except… well..  The conversation was not what I expected. And she looked tired…  Clothes bedraggled, red cheeks, circles under her eyes.  “Listen. I need it back.” “Need what?” I replied back.   “My mask, you bastard. Where did you put ...