theoverseers | Bolton's Office Hours

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Bolton's Office Hours

[Want to chat with Bolton privately? Here is where you do it! Bolton's office hours will be held in conference room B in the library for approximately four hours in the morning several days a week. During that time the blinds will be drawn and that room will be off-limits unless you're there to talk to Bolton, though the other three study rooms will still be available for use.

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[Jane stiffens a bit.]

...I can't make one out of nothing. I could - reattach limbs, if...that's part of the problem...[The problem being "death", see [S]: Collide] Knit flesh together...probably excise a disease...

[If it's a death, and it's just the one time, she can reverse it. But no one here is exactly a phoenix.]

Since you're not the Champion of Life, I don't know if the PIP would let you...

[He looks pained, like he's debating on something.]

Who have you gotten closest to?

[...

Too many names want to be said, but Jane holds them in tightly.]

Why...do you ask that? I-I don't want to know if there's some - some kind of system here where your bosses pick and choose which of us are going to kill each other, I won't - I won't participate in anything like that!

[Now she's actually getting upset, tears quick to flow. Wrong question, Bolton.]

What- no, that's not how it works--

[But you said excise disease and he thought...]

Okay then let me ask this- do your powers work at all on the living?

[Don't you think she's been thinking that too, amongst everything else? She lets him speak, takes a breath.]

...No. Just - just the dead. It's not like...healing something. It's revival. And if that means someone's gotten their head cut off or couldn't fight off a plague, then I can - I think I can fix that, but I can't take away someone's cold, or - or -

[The tears are coming faster now. Jane grits her teeth, both palms coming up to wipe them away frantically.]

[Well what the shit kind of loophole is that this is why you're not the Champion of Life, Jane.

He gets up from his seat (setting his book on the table) and offers her a mustard-yellow handkerchief.]

I'm sorry.

[No fucking shit.

After a moment, she hesitantly takes the handkerchief, using it to dab at the corners of her eyes.]

God - I'm sorry, I - I wasn't coming in here to cry. I-I'm more angry than anything right now...

[Mostly at herself.]

You're okay, it's no problem.

[Now that she's calming down some, he leans against the table.]

Sometimes those two things go hand in hand.

[She takes a deep, slow breath. Considers blowing her nose with the hankie...then reconsiders it. She's happy to troll Bolton, but not to give him a snotty hankie.]

T-That's all I've been feeling, I'll have you know...either angry or sad...a-and you know, don't you? About our memories...[Another sniff.]

[Honestly, he'll take the snotty hanky if that's what she wants to do.]

Yeah, I do. Jesus, when I was your age I was buying a fake ID and running off to Vegas to make bad life choices once a month, not... everything you've been through.

Though I was friends with my share of obtuse jackasses, boys at least never change.

[Hey, she's not heartless.

She snorts once, wiping her eyes again for good measure before folding the hanky up into a square.]

No...no, they don't. Not ever. [A beat.] But, Vegas...so...you're from Earth, too. Or an Earth.

[See there you go he can be funny when he's not encouraging murder.]

You got me. I'm definitely not an alien wearing human skin.

[He grins.]

Or am I?

[She'd roll her eyes if she were in better spirits.]

Whether you are or not - that's not up to me to theorize. Goodness, I am tired of aliens...

How have you not seen the summer blockbuster Men in Black? I mean, there's a dearth of mustaches but those suits are pret-ty sharp.

[But he gives her a more serious answer, too.]

...Can't blame you there. Just reading your file was exhausting.

[She'd say yes, but it's likely that that, amongst most of the movies she's ever seen, were part of impromptu streamed movie marathons during better times.]

...Who compiles these files, anyway? Not...not anyone perverted, or...someone I'd unfortunately know...

[Is Caliborn providing you intel with his supposed screens and keys?]

[it takes him a second, but then he gets it.]

Hah, no, these files are just objective reports - like an analysis of a movie or something, not the ravings of a 13-year-old pissant with a god complex.

Oh, thank God...

[So it's cold, calculating, and still creepy, but ~~Lord English~~ a certain shithead has nothing to do with it. Bless.]

I think I'd just about blow my stack if he was involved.

Yeah, no, fuck him, honestly.

[He watches her with an unreadable expression for a moment.]

Feeling a little better?

[How about y'all capture Caliborn for your murdergames next time? RNG will have to target him, he's not human.]

...A little. I...I'm sorry for all that. [She hands back the hanky at last.] I had wanted to - to really make a statement, or...some kind of threat to topple this experiment, even if I can only bring someone back once, but...it ended up just like everything else I do. I really do apologize for such a waste of time...

[He takes the hanky and tucks it into his left back pocket out of habit.]

Jane... You're smart, you're funny, hell, nobody else would have been determined enough to figure out how to bake cakes from scratch using only the ingredients you've been able to scrounge together. But you're never a waste of time. Mine or anyone else's. Some dumb boy being too up his own ass to remember your birthday doesn't have the right to make you doubt that, even if he's your dumb friend.

[He's trying to hug her with words because he knows better than to try to hug anyone here]

[Good call yeah you're not a high enough level to unlock Jane hugs yet.

She looks a little...surprised, to hear Bolton say all that to her, especially over her own words, which, while stinging, had only felt more like the truth the more things she remembered. But she listens. She listens, and...doesn't quite know what to make of it, to be honest, so she doesn't say anything. She can't.]

[probably not ever with the whole "trying to get everyone to kill each other" thing tbh

He takes her silence for a sign that he's gone too far and sighs.]

Sorry. There's enough jerks who'll tear you down, it's hard to hear anyone tearing down themselves.

[Hey, even when he's telling everyone to kill somebody he doesn't go for the ad-hominems. He rubs his hand over his scruffy beard, muttering into his palm.]

You all deserve better than being here.

[Yeah no sorry. At least entry level Jane-knowing entitles you to cake and, if cake has problems, improved cake.

She thinks she might've heard Bolton mutter something, but she doesn't quite catch it, still muddled in her own emotions. She nods in agreement at the first part, though.]

Yes...well. Sometimes it has to be done.

[A pretty dark reasoning for a teenage girl...but one that, sadly, many people have suffered through themselves. She reaches for the door...pauses, turns back.]

I was thinking...I'll make some carrot cake tomorrow. No dairy. Is that alright?

[It's sort of an "you and Jamie are being thought of as well when I make all this so come get some" invitation.]

[Being a teenager sucks ass. It may have been... oh god half his life ago, but he's not so old that he doesn't remember that much. When she heads for the door, he turns to go back to his seat and pick up his book again, but he looks up in surprise.

Then, a smile that's almost soft comes to his face.]

Sounds great. Maybe I'll brew an extra pot of coffee to pair with it. I think I've been hoarding just the thing.

[...For that, and just that, Jane manages a proper smile of her own.]

Then you best look forward to it.

[And with that, she go~]

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Bolton's Office Hours

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