planeocracy | (no subject)

[The hallways seem livelier this morning than most, but this isn't saying much, considering how this division of Confuto Ordinatio alone houses a veritable number of registered agents. The usual sounds heard each morning would either be the pitter patter of feet and the occasional casual asides, but the noise made at the moment is somewhat different. Footsteps were replaced with the semi-unusual cries of what seems to be a literal stampede, the frenzied rampage of quadrapeds trampling over innocent bystandards and all. Of course, there were no four-legged animals to be found. A rolling, red rug appears to have been the source of so many agents' discomfort. As it rolled on, it spread out a thin layer of silk specifically for two girls to walk across.]

Judging from the procedure required to apply, there seems to be a greater degree of organization here than at school. Still... I do have to wonder about their standards, dear sister.

Indeed, Ms. Kneesocks, but that is to be expected. After all, even the most ruthless distribution of rrrrrules can be all for naught if the worthless common employee cannot follow them.

Yes, dear sister. Still, from this day on, isn't it our obligation to make sure they uphold their duties? After all, the image of an organization is reflected on all of its agents.

But moreso on its superiors including ourselves, wouldn't you say? This means that it is our duty, no, obligation to enforce strict disciplinary measures to enforce their roles here. As superior officers, it's also our goal to define... hmhmm, discipline.

[Kneesocks nods, a small smile forming on her face] How would you suggest we carry that out?

Well, Ms. Kneesocks...

[Both sisters start talking to each other, almost inaudibly to anyone but each other. The conversation is often accentuated by the occasional laughter, minimized with the intention of maintaining a proper demeanor, but for the most part, they aren't making a terribly big effort at hiding their prideful demeanor.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Why, yes, I suppose there is. The Maintenance Units need some tuning.

[Robotnik readies himself to leave the Sisters, but before doing so, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card.]

When your experiences here become, let's say... Too difficult to handle... Drop me a line, won't you?

I'm holding a... Support group of sorts. Heheh.

...

[Kneesocks takes the card, if only to know who they're talking to. She does not say another word, but simply waits for him to leave so she can talk to Scanty.]

"Dr. Ivo Robotnik"... Hmph, your request is duly noted, doctor, and we'll spread the word about this "support group" to anybody that appears sufficiently desperate.

With that, we bid you adieu. We have business to attend to elsewhere, Ms. Kneesocks.

[Rather than waiting for the doctor to leave, Scanty takes the initiative to leave first. The guffaws of the doctor follow them through the halls they walk through.]

... A demon he says... but he was most obviously a human. Perhaps the excess intake of calories left him drained whatever was left of his gray matter.