Post by Eira on Dec 20, 2012 23:27:02 GMT -5
Eira blinks a few times, having read the report more than once but not believing it. Areas? PCW Areas, her OPPONENT for one of the only two matches occurring during the Iceys...punched a CHILD?! Yeah, he was a bigoted asshole, but surely even he wasn't that variety of asshole.
A quick google search later and Eira has the number for the Greenville Mall's management office. Picking up the phone she dials, taking a deep breath and readying herself for the games ahead. The phone was answered on the fourth ring by a man with a thick Mid-Atlantic drawl.
"M'yello, thank you for calling Greenville Mall, how may I help you?" He sounded that special sort of bored reserved for those who work with the public, the scripted answer almost slurring off his tongue. Eira smiles briefly before speaking, modifying her voice to a higher pitch and matching his regional accent flawlessly.
"Good afternoon, sir. I'm glad to have finally reached you. My name is Ms. Calloway, I'm heading the litigation team currently handling the State of North Carolina vs Greenville Mall case. I had a few questions for you, and-" Sharply cut off, Eira grins into the phone at the man's indignant response to her opening lines.
"What?! What are you - that wasn't the mall's fault! That was the damn fellow playing as Santa Claus! That's been settled!" Clearing her throat officiously, she continues to speak in the affected voice, one of many she was able to utilize without error.
"I'm afraid what you're referring to is the private case between the corporation that "fellow" is contracted with, and the child's family. This is a new lawsuit that has been filed against the Greenville Mall by the state of North Carolina. I just need to see the relevant security footage recorded on the date of the assault."
"On what grounds?! I already told you, it was that fellow playing Santa Claus that day!"
"Yes, but that fellow was hired by YOUR company. You can, by law, be held responsible for his actions."
"So you're trying to tell me that you're suing the whole mall for assault? Don't be stupid." Clearly agitated and growing more angry by the second, the man's irritation with her was nearly oozing through the phone connection.
"I assure you, sir, the State's Attorney's office is not suing the whole mall for assault. We're suing your corporation for child endangerment, specifically for failing to protect the mall patrons from a violent and unpredictable man."
"Well, I'm sorry, but you ain't getting a damn thing!" Spoken with the air of a big fish in a small pond, Eira knew just how to deal with his obstructive attitude.
"I see. If you would just be so good as to give me your name and staff identification number so I can let my supervisor and the warrant office know exactly why the Greenville Mall declined to cooperate in our ongoing investigation..." Eira trails off, letting the implications of seeing that this man took personal blame for snubbing the State's Attorney's Office seep into his brain. It took all of ten seconds, and he immediately relented.
"Alright, alright! I'll show you the damn footage. Get to the mall, ask at the security desk for Ed Sloan. They'll page me down. And hurry it up, I ain't waiting around all day."
"Thank you, Mr. Sloan, I assure you I'll make this as painless as possible for you." All she hears in response is a muffled grumbling, followed by the click of the connection closing.
Eira approaches the Greenville Mall's security kiosk, her usual confident stride shortened into quick steps by her high end business ensemble. A charcoal grey, twill dress suit with fitted blazer and knee length pencil skirt - all the way down to the low-heeled neutral colored pumps. It wasn't her customary attire, but it screamed professionalism. Adjusting her wire rimmed spectacles (expensive costume prop), she waits for a moment before clearing her throat to get the receptionist's attention.
"Yes, hello. My name is Ms. Calloway, North Carolina State's Attorney's Office? I'm here to see a Mr. Ed Sloan." Eira gives a closed-lipped smile utterly lacking in warmth, not even bothering with a token response to the girl's prattle as the desk jockey uses her phone to relay the message. Within moments, a short but stout man appears, wearing the pressed and pinching uniform of his station. Eira sighs inwardly at his brisk manner, just another overly officious middle-of-the-food-chain nobody.
"Ms. Calloway?" His voice slightly less hillfolk twangy in person, she offers him a cool smile, her own speech still masked with a similar accent. "Yes, sir. Mr. Sloan, I presume?"
She extends her hand, shaking his firmly before letting go. He leans over and murmurs a few words of instruction to the receptionist, the words "press" and "liability" heard before he straightens and adresses Eira again. "If you'll follow me, please?" With a nod, she falls into step behind him, making noncommittal noises of acknowledgment as he again stresses Greenville Mall's inherent innocence in the situation. The mall passes around her in a blur of sound and activity, quieting into a dull background hum as they enter the labyrinthine corridors behind the shops. Opening a door he gestures for her to enter the 20x30 room, one wall entirely taken up by monitors. Receivers and cables mounted on the other two walls. The room smelled like too-warm electronics, institutional grade carpet, and burnt coffee. About what she'd expected.
Mr. Sloan pulls out a chair for her, settling himself in a larger chair next to her and smiling awkwardly over at her. His gaze seemed to be fixed on her hair, intense dark auburn in a contemporary short-length cut. "Well now, I'm just doing what's right, but it's a pleasure to have such a lovely lady in here. I've always been partial to redheads." Eira looks over at him with a glance cold enough to freeze molten lava in place. "So is my husband."
Coughing awkwardly, Mr. Sloan fiddles with a few knobs before clearing his throat and pointing to the closest monitor. "Here's the footage you asked to see, ma'am." Summarily dismissing the man's presence, Eira leans forward to peer at the display screen. Smiling softly at the fidgety line of small children, she watches a little boy scoot over to Areas and climb up on his lap. They seem to talk for a moment, then without warning Areas punches the child square in the jaw, knocking him several feet back. Eira jerks back in her seat, muscles locking, a burning sensation starting in the back of her neck, not even registering the chaos on the screen following Areas' actions.
"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you alright?" Mr. Sloan's voice sounds tinny, like she's hearing it from underwater. Struggling to control the cascade of responses that were just triggered, she looks at the mall's head of security, her eyes a light-absorbing black. Color drains from his face as he meets her eyes, every animal instinct in him aware of just what variety of predator he was seated no more than two feet away from.
Eira speaks, her voice a cold, dead monotone. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Sloan." She rises and leaves, unerringly finding her way out of the passages. She walks through the mall, everyone in her path stepping to one side as surely as they would make way for a stalking tigress, subconscious cues warning them away from her.
She pushes open the glass doors and heads across the parking lot to her car, only one thing on her mind.
Punishment.
Sitting in the darkened room, Eira is illuminated only by the eerie bluish glow of the computer in front of her as she records her message to Areas.
"Areas. There are many, many things I could say to you. Deride you for your ignorant bigotry, shame you for your unconscionable behavior, but I will not. Actions speak louder than words, and during our match I will scribe volumes on brutality, essays on torment, and I will write it IN. YOUR. BLOOD."
Eira's expression changes, one might almost, ALMOST call it a smile were it not so full of pure malevolence. Her voice is dark, heavy, bloodsoaked velvet made into sound.
"I am going to show you just what it's like to be helpless at the hands of a monster, Areas. To be afraid. To hurt for no reason other than someone wished you to hurt. I am going to burn your sin from you in the fires of absolution. The only thing you can hope for is that your soul finds its peace before I tear it from your body."
The camera feed skitters fitfully then goes to static, a loud audio of distorted electronic shrieks assailing the viewer for the last few seconds before the recording terminates in absolute darkness.
-"There's really only one way to find out. I need to get ahold of that security footage."-
A quick google search later and Eira has the number for the Greenville Mall's management office. Picking up the phone she dials, taking a deep breath and readying herself for the games ahead. The phone was answered on the fourth ring by a man with a thick Mid-Atlantic drawl.
"M'yello, thank you for calling Greenville Mall, how may I help you?" He sounded that special sort of bored reserved for those who work with the public, the scripted answer almost slurring off his tongue. Eira smiles briefly before speaking, modifying her voice to a higher pitch and matching his regional accent flawlessly.
"Good afternoon, sir. I'm glad to have finally reached you. My name is Ms. Calloway, I'm heading the litigation team currently handling the State of North Carolina vs Greenville Mall case. I had a few questions for you, and-" Sharply cut off, Eira grins into the phone at the man's indignant response to her opening lines.
"What?! What are you - that wasn't the mall's fault! That was the damn fellow playing as Santa Claus! That's been settled!" Clearing her throat officiously, she continues to speak in the affected voice, one of many she was able to utilize without error.
"I'm afraid what you're referring to is the private case between the corporation that "fellow" is contracted with, and the child's family. This is a new lawsuit that has been filed against the Greenville Mall by the state of North Carolina. I just need to see the relevant security footage recorded on the date of the assault."
"On what grounds?! I already told you, it was that fellow playing Santa Claus that day!"
"Yes, but that fellow was hired by YOUR company. You can, by law, be held responsible for his actions."
"So you're trying to tell me that you're suing the whole mall for assault? Don't be stupid." Clearly agitated and growing more angry by the second, the man's irritation with her was nearly oozing through the phone connection.
"I assure you, sir, the State's Attorney's office is not suing the whole mall for assault. We're suing your corporation for child endangerment, specifically for failing to protect the mall patrons from a violent and unpredictable man."
"Well, I'm sorry, but you ain't getting a damn thing!" Spoken with the air of a big fish in a small pond, Eira knew just how to deal with his obstructive attitude.
"I see. If you would just be so good as to give me your name and staff identification number so I can let my supervisor and the warrant office know exactly why the Greenville Mall declined to cooperate in our ongoing investigation..." Eira trails off, letting the implications of seeing that this man took personal blame for snubbing the State's Attorney's Office seep into his brain. It took all of ten seconds, and he immediately relented.
"Alright, alright! I'll show you the damn footage. Get to the mall, ask at the security desk for Ed Sloan. They'll page me down. And hurry it up, I ain't waiting around all day."
"Thank you, Mr. Sloan, I assure you I'll make this as painless as possible for you." All she hears in response is a muffled grumbling, followed by the click of the connection closing.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Eira approaches the Greenville Mall's security kiosk, her usual confident stride shortened into quick steps by her high end business ensemble. A charcoal grey, twill dress suit with fitted blazer and knee length pencil skirt - all the way down to the low-heeled neutral colored pumps. It wasn't her customary attire, but it screamed professionalism. Adjusting her wire rimmed spectacles (expensive costume prop), she waits for a moment before clearing her throat to get the receptionist's attention.
"Yes, hello. My name is Ms. Calloway, North Carolina State's Attorney's Office? I'm here to see a Mr. Ed Sloan." Eira gives a closed-lipped smile utterly lacking in warmth, not even bothering with a token response to the girl's prattle as the desk jockey uses her phone to relay the message. Within moments, a short but stout man appears, wearing the pressed and pinching uniform of his station. Eira sighs inwardly at his brisk manner, just another overly officious middle-of-the-food-chain nobody.
"Ms. Calloway?" His voice slightly less hillfolk twangy in person, she offers him a cool smile, her own speech still masked with a similar accent. "Yes, sir. Mr. Sloan, I presume?"
She extends her hand, shaking his firmly before letting go. He leans over and murmurs a few words of instruction to the receptionist, the words "press" and "liability" heard before he straightens and adresses Eira again. "If you'll follow me, please?" With a nod, she falls into step behind him, making noncommittal noises of acknowledgment as he again stresses Greenville Mall's inherent innocence in the situation. The mall passes around her in a blur of sound and activity, quieting into a dull background hum as they enter the labyrinthine corridors behind the shops. Opening a door he gestures for her to enter the 20x30 room, one wall entirely taken up by monitors. Receivers and cables mounted on the other two walls. The room smelled like too-warm electronics, institutional grade carpet, and burnt coffee. About what she'd expected.
Mr. Sloan pulls out a chair for her, settling himself in a larger chair next to her and smiling awkwardly over at her. His gaze seemed to be fixed on her hair, intense dark auburn in a contemporary short-length cut. "Well now, I'm just doing what's right, but it's a pleasure to have such a lovely lady in here. I've always been partial to redheads." Eira looks over at him with a glance cold enough to freeze molten lava in place. "So is my husband."
-"Damn it. I KNEW I should have gone with the dishwater blonde wig today."-
Coughing awkwardly, Mr. Sloan fiddles with a few knobs before clearing his throat and pointing to the closest monitor. "Here's the footage you asked to see, ma'am." Summarily dismissing the man's presence, Eira leans forward to peer at the display screen. Smiling softly at the fidgety line of small children, she watches a little boy scoot over to Areas and climb up on his lap. They seem to talk for a moment, then without warning Areas punches the child square in the jaw, knocking him several feet back. Eira jerks back in her seat, muscles locking, a burning sensation starting in the back of her neck, not even registering the chaos on the screen following Areas' actions.
"Ma'am? Ma'am, are you alright?" Mr. Sloan's voice sounds tinny, like she's hearing it from underwater. Struggling to control the cascade of responses that were just triggered, she looks at the mall's head of security, her eyes a light-absorbing black. Color drains from his face as he meets her eyes, every animal instinct in him aware of just what variety of predator he was seated no more than two feet away from.
Eira speaks, her voice a cold, dead monotone. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Sloan." She rises and leaves, unerringly finding her way out of the passages. She walks through the mall, everyone in her path stepping to one side as surely as they would make way for a stalking tigress, subconscious cues warning them away from her.
She pushes open the glass doors and heads across the parking lot to her car, only one thing on her mind.
Punishment.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sitting in the darkened room, Eira is illuminated only by the eerie bluish glow of the computer in front of her as she records her message to Areas.
"Areas. There are many, many things I could say to you. Deride you for your ignorant bigotry, shame you for your unconscionable behavior, but I will not. Actions speak louder than words, and during our match I will scribe volumes on brutality, essays on torment, and I will write it IN. YOUR. BLOOD."
Eira's expression changes, one might almost, ALMOST call it a smile were it not so full of pure malevolence. Her voice is dark, heavy, bloodsoaked velvet made into sound.
"I am going to show you just what it's like to be helpless at the hands of a monster, Areas. To be afraid. To hurt for no reason other than someone wished you to hurt. I am going to burn your sin from you in the fires of absolution. The only thing you can hope for is that your soul finds its peace before I tear it from your body."
The camera feed skitters fitfully then goes to static, a loud audio of distorted electronic shrieks assailing the viewer for the last few seconds before the recording terminates in absolute darkness.
-Suffer well.-