A small disturbance in the attic owned by an old woman, an apparent trespasser that turned out to be a bird building a nest, and a wannabe thief that had stolen an old TV from a shop that had already been broken into the night before. What did all these three have in common, save for Cassandra not truly caring about any of them? She was the one who had to deal with them.
It was supposed to be Jared doing it all, that man having been put into the spot originally. But, as it turned out, Grunwald had the full authority to switch the two positions, Cassandra getting Jared’s task and the other officer getting hers. She had no say in the matter, no matter how much she complained. Not that she did complain that much, one half-hearted being made before she was shot down completely.
And now she was forced to do this for the rest of the time she had there. Or that's how it had been phrased, at least. Officer Grunwald had wanted to go so far as to put her on temporary leave and let her rest for a week, but their already small numbers would have made that a logistical nightmare. Cassandra had reminded the man of that several times.
She was supposed to have triumphed from that. Her words of logic were meant to show off that she was still fully capable, that there was no problem with sending her back into the fray. She needed to go back there. Cassandra needed to see it with her own eyes. Yet her superior officer had seen it differently. He had looked at her with blank eyes and had reassigned her the moment she tried to speak. Just… it made her want to hit something.
So Cassandra did, hitting the wall she stood by. It made quite the oomph, as it stabilized after her side-punch. It hadn't been enough to truly cause any structural damage, but the woman had still been packing some serious power. If she made another try, there was a chance her fist would have a permanent imprint on the wall. Wasn't that a calming thought, knowing fully how powerful her body was, yet she was still not allowed to go back to the place that had already been eradicated of life?
Jules stood by her, activating various scanners on the vehicle they had at their disposal. They were currently searching for a lost wallet since that was obviously the only real task that a highly specialized force was allowed to do. Sure, it held more money than Cassandra would likely ever get her hands on, but she did not care about that fact in the slightest. She just knew that she could be doing much more than what she was currently doing, standing by a wall and twiddling her thumbs at nothing in particular.
She didn't even need to be here. What was her role in all of this? Sit back and watch a piece of machinery do all the needed work? Cassandra didn't sign up as an overseer, so why exactly had she been put in that position. There was no glory, no justice, no anything in doing nothing but watching others work.
Cassandra had joined the force because she fully knew what she was capable of. She would rise to the top formidable, and she would do her best along the way. She would be one of the shining stars, and she would be the one that almost shined the brightest. It would have been wonderful, exactly what she wanted, and most certainly not what was happening right now.
They shuffled ten steps to the left, as the car finished scanning one road, moving others to the next on the list. Cassandra hoped that they would find that damn wallet, lest they would need to follow the old man’s path to work, stopping every ten steps for five minutes. He had to have lost it somewhere.
Cassandra thought that the old bastard better have lost it somewhere close to his house. If Cassandra ended up finding nothing after an entire day of searching and then figuring out that the old man had just misplaced it in his upper drawer, there was a serious chance that she would slap that prick so hard that it would-
“You’re doing it again,” Jules commented from the side. Cassandra looked over at the automation, but no eyes met hers. The construct was fully focused on the screen in front of it. Or so it seemed from the body language at least, but the woman had learned that the automation could be deceiving in that way. It only showed what it wanted to show, after all.
“What exactly have I been doing, to begin with?” Cassandra questioned, narrowing her eyes at the scrap bucket. She still resented it for what it had done. Jules had had no permission to force her to retreat. There had been a plan to retrieve the child, and that piece of scrap had ruined it for her. She could have succeeded, and it just had to-
“What you’re doing right now,” Jules stated, finally looking over at her. There wasn't much emotion on its face, the construct just looking at her. It looked neither happy nor angry. Its face was just… in sight, having as much emotion as a person that had been informed of their own mortality. “That anger-fueled tantrum that just can't be stopped from showing itself on your face. You’re slipping with your facade, Cassandra.”
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“And so what? Nobody here doesn't realise it,” Cassandra answered, sitting down in the grass, not wanting to bother standing at that point. They were alone, the two of them, and she had nothing to really hide from that automation. It wasn't alive. It had no real way to judge her.
Yet… even as she thought those words, that gaze being put on her really made that fact hard to believe. The construct's stare was unwavering, much like the one she normally used. It made her angry that she avoided the gaze after a moment, looking down at the grass. That caused a sigh to come forth.
“Yes. There is nobody around here to see it. But that doesn't mean that Grunwald didn't see it. And it doesn't mean that Jared won't see it the moment he sees your face as well. You’re having serious trouble with your mask, and you can't even realise it right now,” Jules said, sitting down as well. The car automatically moved forward again, completing its scan of the nearby road. It was ignored since the automation was easily able to manage it from a distance. There was a protocol being broken because of that attitude, but neither of the entities seemed to care much about that fact.
The construct could barely comment on anything the woman did. It didn't have the same troubles as her! Jules had no worries about its face changing without it knowing exactly what it was doing. Cassandra always had to make sure how she acted, lest her body would show off her true colours. It would show her spite, her anger, her wrath at those she was around every day. If she slipped up for but a moment, everything she had worked for could be ruined.
…
Gods, she had slipped up in front of her superior. Cassandra could barely remember the conversation, could barely think back to how she had been acting. How had she moved, how had she talked, how had she looked to be? No thought had been put into any of it. Her body had acted as it would do without instruction. Was… was that why she had failed. Just what had she shown off? Just how much had her career been ruined?
“I need to get back to the clearing,” Cassandra stated, getting up from her position and starting to move over to the car. Yet, she never got more than two steps, Jules having grabbed it and pulled her right back down to the ground. She had more strength than most strong men, but she could barely feel any chance of her having been able to resist that pull. The automation had both weight and strength in its size.
“You don't need to get back to anything. We will both be sitting right here and enjoying ourselves in peace,” Jules stated. The construct didn't let go of her hand, making it impossible for Cassandra to get up. Not that she didn't try, of course. Even when pushing with her legs at full power, she was unable to even make the automation budge. Oh, what she would have given for the override codes. “Calm down… please.”
…
Cassandra looked at Jules, expecting another instance where she was met with a face-planted onto a screen. But, she did not find anything but the construct having its full attention on her, face looking slightly pleading. It wanted her to sit down. It looked worried about her.
Maybe that was what made her relax for a moment, sitting down on her ass, and hitting her head into the wall as she completely relaxed her back. It would have been a lie to say it didn't hurt, but she didn't really care at that point. Cassandra just needed to sit down and do nothing. This… this was something she could do. If Jules wanted it from her, then this wasn't anything she would disobey with.
“... I’m a terrible person,” Cassandra finally said, looking down at the grass. Jules didn't hold her at that point, but neither did she try to get up, her mind intent on looking within instead. Why was she here? What was even the point of it all? She had cheated, lied, manipulated, and had done so many things for a goal she would likely never achieve. She had watched idly, knowing she could have stopped others from making mistakes that cost them their jobs. She might never have done anything directly, but her inaction at points had caused so many losses.
“You just might be. Welcome to the club of self-reflection, I suppose,” Jules said. Cassandra noted the lack of rejection that the automation was giving her.
“Aren't you supposed to deny my statement? Say I'm a good person and all that shit?” Cassandra questioned, looking over at the construct with narrowed eyes.
“Maybe. But, I think we both know I would be lying at that point. And… what good could ever come from that. Nobody likes doing it,” Jules answered, taking a few blades of grass from the place they sat. The snow wasn't as extreme next to the buildings. “Few people like doing anything, really.”
“Why do I even do this?” Cassandra asked. Jules didn't answer her, so she continued her rant. “I don't like Jared, I don't like Grunwald, and I sure as hell don't like this fucking city. Nobody is civilized, everybody complains, racists are rampant, and the things they do are absolutely despicable. There is so much here worth burning to the ground, and nobody has the balls to do it. I-”
Cassandra stopped, slumping down even further down to the ground. At that point, she wasn't even sitting, closer to lying on her side. She had done it now, saying all the wrong things at the wrong time. That is if the wrong time could be counted as every moment of her working life.
“And… now both of those bastards know my opinions about them,” Cassandra stated. “They’re gonna look at my file, see just what I’ve said, and then go ballistic about it. Do you think I’ll be fired immediately or they’ll wait for some other reason to come up?”
“I don’t think you’ll be fired at all, actually,” Jules stated casually. But… that hint of a smile along those lips ticked Cassandra off about something being wrong. Something was going on its head. She would have delved into her mind to figure out just what it was, but she respected the privacy that had been set up instead. And there still was another way to figure it out anyway.
“Just what do you mean by that?” Cassandra asked.
“Well, I am currently working as your therapist. Comes with the skill-set and all. And… as your therapist, I have localized one of your points of stress being that others know your private information. With the laws set in place during the privacy breach of ‘83, I am allowed to increase the requirement to access your files, to the point that it will require a higher-level administrator to oversee any inquiries about your information. In other words, the two fish-fingers you call co-workers will not know shit all about you from now on.”
“... You are a good person, Jules,” Cassandra muttered, before getting up and walking over to the car. She had no intention of taking control of it and driving over to the clearing. She just wanted to uphold protocol.
Jules didn't stop her. It just sat back from a moment, contemplating how to handle the human’s response. In the end, it did nothing but smile silently and get up as well.
‘I am glad you think of me in that way.’