socialitesleuth

[socialitesleuth]

Happy Easter to all who celebrate, and a happy Sunday regardless! 🐰

Apologies for not being so present. I'm currently keeping an eye on @squidsinashirt to make sure he doesn't give anyone an unfair advantage in the Easter Egg hunt... I've got my eye on you, Mr. Bunny!

[socialitesleuth]

Penelope was in two minds to simply walk away from Gordon once he’d started rambling off. Yes, he was answering her questions, but that didn’t mean she was a fan of his attitude. And yet, not two minutes ago Penelope had found herself eased with his wit; now she was ready to admonish him for it. 

From behind her mask, her eyes narrowed. Oh, Scott Tracy would not be hearing the end of this. It was, unfortunately for her, a reasonable excuse for his presence, she supposed. She couldn’t exactly fault his cause for being there, even if it did mean it was going to make her job more difficult.

“I told you before,” Penelope bit back, trying her best to restrain the rising temper that was merely just a cover for another buried feeling, “this isn’t just some random party, Gordon.”

In the days preceding the gala, she had come up with a fairly watertight plan, or so she’d hoped. Penelope had considered almost every angle she could approach the mission with, and thus the plan had featured an array of variables (Gordon-sized ones unfortunately not included). She had a plan for her entrance, a plan for how she was going to talk to Price, a plan for how she was going to get the information she needed, and a plan for her inconspicuous exit.

Though only one part of her plan had so far been executed (and rather well, if she said so herself), Penelope was certain that, with Gordon now in the picture, that plan would need to be rearranged. And fast.

… And he still wasn’t looking at her.

“It’s funny. You complimented my dress, yet you haven’t even looked at me once since I approached you. So, you were either lying about what you said and you find the dress hideous, or…” Penelope paused, her questioning eyes boring into him. “You’re too scared to look me in the eye. Which is it, Gordon?”

She’d barely touched the champagne in her glass so it wasn’t the alcohol that gave her the confidence to ask him so boldly. Penelope was currently working on pure adrenaline as she’d asked him the question she already knew the answer to.

But if he was determined to put her in a sticky position then she’d gladly do the same in return.

Penelope was nothing if not fair.

:COMMS BEGIN:

Lady P,

Sorry for the early morning comms, hope this doesn’t wake you too early - I make it just after 5 your time.

We’re just finishing up a mission in the Persian Gulf - a luxury hotel collapsed overnight, on an island just offshore Doha. Only built two years ago, whole place is pretty new and shiny.

Been a rough night, Pen - fifteen we were too late to help, including two kids. Just families on vacation...

Anyway, victims are saying they felt tremors, it certainly looks like a quake from the debris now the sun is up and J is absolutely confident it came from beneath the sea bed (absolutely being a rather irritated direct quote, so I’m not asking again).

But… this isn’t a quake hot zone. It doesn’t make any sense, and there haven’t been any aftershocks either while we’ve been working. Five can’t get a good read because of the debris and mineral interference underground. The whole place is on top of the enormous old oil fields, and it sends the scanners haywire.

The company that owns the hotel has set my squid sense off though. Name’s Fulcra, I’ve sent you the profile on them. Ran by a guy named Randall Price. He’s a venture capitalist from Houston originally, but the company’s HQ is a London address. That’s as far as I’ve managed to get.

They own a couple of the small artificial islands around here that are being used as tourist hotspots. Think luxury waterfront villas on stilts kinda stuff, the hotel that’s collapsed was the biggest. Nice place, high end, lots of good dive spots.

This area’s all under a World Heritage protected marine environment permit for a biosphere reserve. They’ve spent decades trying to replenish the mangroves and coastal vegetation after what the oil fields and production did to the waters here, the aquatic populations are only just starting to rise comfortably. I didn’t understand how they even got permission for this sort of work but…

They’ve got a giant platform further out in the Gulf that’s supposedly ‘cleaning the sea’ and helping to replenish the sea bed. Seems to be some sort of agreement that they can build these resorts, in exchange for what appears to be green work. I tried to get a proper look at the platform in Four, out of interest, but they’ve got laser nets up. I got an autoturret my way for trying to go any further in the exosuit…

I’d like to think they’re just really protecting that biosphere, but I don’t get a nice eco-friend impression.

My gut says I’m getting Hydrexler vibes, and you were right about that oily CEO last time. I’m not sure I want to be right, but I do want to know what’s going on here… and I thought you might too, as our resident top agent with a passion for all things Earth-saving.

So, I thought I’d hand it over to you, and let you do what you do best - cosying up to the billionaires and getting them to spill the tea.

Lemme know if you know or find anything on them. We’re going to be here another couple of hours, finishing up stabilising the debris field and having another run through, and then heading back. S managed to get the Price guy on comms briefly, but he wasn’t much for talking. Maybe you’ll have more luck.

G 🦑

:COMMS END:

FIRST DATE?

The flickering light and the soft buzz from her compact device caught her off-guard. Penelope, who had positioned herself in an armchair beside her tall windows after giving up on sleep half an hour earlier, sat herself up a little straighter. The blanket which she’d wrapped around herself was pulled tighter to her frame as her eyes read the message.

The hour might have been earlier and, on any other day, Penelope might very well have still been sleeping, but today was different. She rubbed her tired eyes as they scanned Gordon’s words. At first, she’d hoped it had been something akin to a social call. She rather enjoyed those, especially when they came from Gordon, but the more she read, the more Penelope realised it was anything but that.

Her interest peaked as she reached Gordon’s conspiracy.

Her mouth grew dry when she reached Gordon’s information.

The blanket was thrown off her body and Penelope stood. With her comms device still in hand, her eyes still darting from left to right as she continued her reading, she crossed her bedroom and gently tugged on the bell. 

Minutes passed before a very sleepy Parker knocked on her bedroom door. Penelope, having only just finished Gordon’s message, opened it.

“Terribly sorry to wake you, Parker, but it seems we have a situation. I need you to cancel my schedule for today and then get me all we have on the company known as Fulcra. CEO is a man named Randall Price.”

“But, m’lady, that’s—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, thank you, Parker. See if you can arrange a meeting of some kind, if that’s at all possible.”

Parker nodded, still more asleep than he was awake, before he trundled off down the hallway to make good of his ladyship’s requests.

Penelope returned to chair by the window and curled herself back up. The sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon as she typed out her reply.

COMMS BEGIN

@squidsinashirt, Thank you for your concern — I shall look into this and get back to you when I

Penelope ceased her typing and sighed. She knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, not after her sent her looking. A moment or two passed before Penelope deleted her previous sentence and began to re-type it. 

COMMS BEGIN

Gordon,

This company?

I shall look into this as you requested but, I must warn you, you may not like what I find. Randall Price is… let us say a man I am already familiar with, or rather his business is. What I can tell you is that, for the most part, Fulcra is celebrated as a rather clean company, but that doesn’t always mean much — you were right to mention Hydrexler. The Persian Gulf was supposed to remain a protected marine environment, at least that was how I understood it. I’ll ask some of my World Heritage connections what they know too, see if I can get a bigger picture for you.

Give me a couple of days. I’ll try and, what was it you said? Cosy up to the billionaire? Get him to spill the tea? Parker is going to try and get me an appointment but, if that fails, I do have an alternative plan.

Do try and get some rest once you’ve finished up. The mission in Doha sounds like it’s been a terribly distressing situation for all involved. You know I am always here if you need to talk about it. Any of it.

I’ll be in touch once I hear something.

Stay safe, 

Penny x

COMMS END

-------------------------------------

Once upon a time, names held weight. Penelope had thought that Scott’s name had simply been too tied up with International Rescue for Randall Price to give him the time of day… until she too was ushered away once the more difficult questions were asked. From her other sources, Penelope had heard only rave reviews of the company. Yet something felt… off.

It was just after dinner when Penelope began her second message to Gordon.

COMMS BEGIN

It's too clean. Not sure what’s going on but I definitely sense something. Plan B is in operation. Randall Price might not have wanted to speak to me today, but he did invite me to his Charity Ball this weekend — I’ll see if I can find out more then.

I’m hoping you returned home safe and sound and that you managed to have a good rest. I suppose it’s my turn to apologise if this message wakes you. 

Penny x

COMMS END

[socialitesleuth]

I said I'd be your alibi. I didn't say I was going to be your lawyer, Gordo.

😌💕 Food’s good too 🤤

(PS. If the inhabitants of Tracy Island think this means I’ve forgotten what day it is… good luck 🙂‍↔️ be confident at your peril. Back later to see the results!)

[socialitesleuth]

Oh, no. No, no, no. You cannot possibly blame me for his crimes. I'm the epitome of innocence.

😌💕 Food’s good too 🤤

(PS. If the inhabitants of Tracy Island think this means I’ve forgotten what day it is… good luck 🙂‍↔️ be confident at your peril. Back later to see the results!)

[socialitesleuth]

He was about to make her job ten times harder, yet it was impossible for her to resent him for it. If she was being honest with herself, Penelope was relieved Gordon still attempted to wisecrack his way out of the tension, even if it was a little uncertain. It would have been concerning had he not made the attempt at all, and, whether she wanted it to or not, his carefree manner helped bring some sort of normalcy back between the two of them.

She fought back her amused smile that usually made an appearance after one of Gordon’s witticisms — Penelope was still annoyed with him, let alone with the fact of him being there. 

If this had been any other time and place, Penelope might have given him a little leeway, but tonight was important. She didn’t have time to reconcile with him, didn’t have time to play it safe. Penelope was in attendance for one reason and one reason only; the mission. Gordon being there changed nothing. It couldn’t. If anything, it meant she now had to worry about another person.

Making her job ten times harder, did she say? Scratch that. Make it twenty.

“You shouldn’t be here, Gordon.” Penelope’s voice lowered enough for it to only be heard by him.

Penelope doubted Gordon came just for the party. She knew what this mission meant to him, had indicated it to her multiple times during their arguments over the phone. She would have been a fool to assume his presence was merely coincidental.

His mask made it harder for her to read his facial expressions. Normally Penelope prided herself on people-reading skills that allowed her to see right through someone. It was in that moment when she realised that this set-back wasn’t just going to be with Gordon. Everyone was wearing a mask and, whilst she had put this fact into her plans, she hadn’t properly realised the struggle it would pose.

And Gordon was still standing in front of her, looking as radiant and as handsome as she’d have expected him to, with his eyes still set on the other side of the room and not her. Penelope did her best to disregard the pain she felt from his refusal to regard her, but after she’d come over with such a menacing purpose after not speaking to him for what felt like forever, she couldn’t exactly blame him for being cautious.

Don’t think there’s anyone that could look quite as beautiful or quite as dangerous in a dress like that than you, Penny.

…

Scratch the ‘twenty times harder”. Make it thirty.

The grip she had on her champagne flute suddenly tightened and Penelope did what she did best; compartmentalised. It began with her pointedly ignoring Gordon’s obvious compliment. If she could pretend to be unfazed by his soft words, it was a step towards making the evening a little more easier. Keeping him at arm’s length tonight was the best way to get through it, in Penelope’s opinion. They’d have plenty of time after to talk (or argue) it all out.

So long as they both made it out with their heads.

“How are you even here?” The icy exterior remained but her eyes pleaded with his turned face to just look at her. Just once. Even after all of that indecision, all of her worries about the evening, Penelope just needed Gordon to look at her once. “Why are you even here?” 

:COMMS BEGIN:

Lady P,

Sorry for the early morning comms, hope this doesn’t wake you too early - I make it just after 5 your time.

We’re just finishing up a mission in the Persian Gulf - a luxury hotel collapsed overnight, on an island just offshore Doha. Only built two years ago, whole place is pretty new and shiny.

Been a rough night, Pen - fifteen we were too late to help, including two kids. Just families on vacation...

Anyway, victims are saying they felt tremors, it certainly looks like a quake from the debris now the sun is up and J is absolutely confident it came from beneath the sea bed (absolutely being a rather irritated direct quote, so I’m not asking again).

But… this isn’t a quake hot zone. It doesn’t make any sense, and there haven’t been any aftershocks either while we’ve been working. Five can’t get a good read because of the debris and mineral interference underground. The whole place is on top of the enormous old oil fields, and it sends the scanners haywire.

The company that owns the hotel has set my squid sense off though. Name’s Fulcra, I’ve sent you the profile on them. Ran by a guy named Randall Price. He’s a venture capitalist from Houston originally, but the company’s HQ is a London address. That’s as far as I’ve managed to get.

They own a couple of the small artificial islands around here that are being used as tourist hotspots. Think luxury waterfront villas on stilts kinda stuff, the hotel that’s collapsed was the biggest. Nice place, high end, lots of good dive spots.

This area’s all under a World Heritage protected marine environment permit for a biosphere reserve. They’ve spent decades trying to replenish the mangroves and coastal vegetation after what the oil fields and production did to the waters here, the aquatic populations are only just starting to rise comfortably. I didn’t understand how they even got permission for this sort of work but…

They’ve got a giant platform further out in the Gulf that’s supposedly ‘cleaning the sea’ and helping to replenish the sea bed. Seems to be some sort of agreement that they can build these resorts, in exchange for what appears to be green work. I tried to get a proper look at the platform in Four, out of interest, but they’ve got laser nets up. I got an autoturret my way for trying to go any further in the exosuit…

I’d like to think they’re just really protecting that biosphere, but I don’t get a nice eco-friend impression.

My gut says I’m getting Hydrexler vibes, and you were right about that oily CEO last time. I’m not sure I want to be right, but I do want to know what’s going on here… and I thought you might too, as our resident top agent with a passion for all things Earth-saving.

So, I thought I’d hand it over to you, and let you do what you do best - cosying up to the billionaires and getting them to spill the tea.

Lemme know if you know or find anything on them. We’re going to be here another couple of hours, finishing up stabilising the debris field and having another run through, and then heading back. S managed to get the Price guy on comms briefly, but he wasn’t much for talking. Maybe you’ll have more luck.

G 🦑

:COMMS END:

FIRST DATE?

The flickering light and the soft buzz from her compact device caught her off-guard. Penelope, who had positioned herself in an armchair beside her tall windows after giving up on sleep half an hour earlier, sat herself up a little straighter. The blanket which she’d wrapped around herself was pulled tighter to her frame as her eyes read the message.

The hour might have been earlier and, on any other day, Penelope might very well have still been sleeping, but today was different. She rubbed her tired eyes as they scanned Gordon’s words. At first, she’d hoped it had been something akin to a social call. She rather enjoyed those, especially when they came from Gordon, but the more she read, the more Penelope realised it was anything but that.

Her interest peaked as she reached Gordon’s conspiracy.

Her mouth grew dry when she reached Gordon’s information.

The blanket was thrown off her body and Penelope stood. With her comms device still in hand, her eyes still darting from left to right as she continued her reading, she crossed her bedroom and gently tugged on the bell. 

Minutes passed before a very sleepy Parker knocked on her bedroom door. Penelope, having only just finished Gordon’s message, opened it.

“Terribly sorry to wake you, Parker, but it seems we have a situation. I need you to cancel my schedule for today and then get me all we have on the company known as Fulcra. CEO is a man named Randall Price.”

“But, m’lady, that’s—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, thank you, Parker. See if you can arrange a meeting of some kind, if that’s at all possible.”

Parker nodded, still more asleep than he was awake, before he trundled off down the hallway to make good of his ladyship’s requests.

Penelope returned to chair by the window and curled herself back up. The sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon as she typed out her reply.

COMMS BEGIN

@squidsinashirt, Thank you for your concern — I shall look into this and get back to you when I

Penelope ceased her typing and sighed. She knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, not after her sent her looking. A moment or two passed before Penelope deleted her previous sentence and began to re-type it. 

COMMS BEGIN

Gordon,

This company?

I shall look into this as you requested but, I must warn you, you may not like what I find. Randall Price is… let us say a man I am already familiar with, or rather his business is. What I can tell you is that, for the most part, Fulcra is celebrated as a rather clean company, but that doesn’t always mean much — you were right to mention Hydrexler. The Persian Gulf was supposed to remain a protected marine environment, at least that was how I understood it. I’ll ask some of my World Heritage connections what they know too, see if I can get a bigger picture for you.

Give me a couple of days. I’ll try and, what was it you said? Cosy up to the billionaire? Get him to spill the tea? Parker is going to try and get me an appointment but, if that fails, I do have an alternative plan.

Do try and get some rest once you’ve finished up. The mission in Doha sounds like it’s been a terribly distressing situation for all involved. You know I am always here if you need to talk about it. Any of it.

I’ll be in touch once I hear something.

Stay safe, 

Penny x

COMMS END

-------------------------------------

Once upon a time, names held weight. Penelope had thought that Scott’s name had simply been too tied up with International Rescue for Randall Price to give him the time of day… until she too was ushered away once the more difficult questions were asked. From her other sources, Penelope had heard only rave reviews of the company. Yet something felt… off.

It was just after dinner when Penelope began her second message to Gordon.

COMMS BEGIN

It's too clean. Not sure what’s going on but I definitely sense something. Plan B is in operation. Randall Price might not have wanted to speak to me today, but he did invite me to his Charity Ball this weekend — I’ll see if I can find out more then.

I’m hoping you returned home safe and sound and that you managed to have a good rest. I suppose it’s my turn to apologise if this message wakes you. 

Penny x

COMMS END

[socialitesleuth]

You rascal! The blanket fortress? Truly evil!

please free the Fish from Scott’s imprisonment, where is he ;___;

. . .

@scramjettracy, what is this about you imprisoning your brother?

[socialitesleuth]

As if you'd be the usurper type!

. . .

No, of course you're not!

. . .

Right?

please free the Fish from Scott’s imprisonment, where is he ;___;

. . .

@scramjettracy, what is this about you imprisoning your brother?

[socialitesleuth]

How do you cope with dating the actual human ball of sunshine that is that little blonde squid? Is he actually that nice or just internet nice? 🥺

Oh, Anon, darling, I can confirm that the actual human ball of sunshine that is Gordon Tracy is truly that nice (if not, more so) in person.

And I'm not just being biased because he's one of my favourite people. @squidsinashirt really is like a ray of sunshine.

[socialitesleuth]

With Mother’s Day approaching, how are you planning to spend it?

For security reasons, I shan't be going into the details surrounding my personal plans for the day.

However, I can share that I shall be spending the day with my dearest mother. She isn't somebody who is particularly fond of the spotlight so we won't be going anywhere where the paps can take their shots, I'm afraid. It will just be me, my mother and my brother.

[socialitesleuth]

do u wear such big heels because ur actually only 5’2?

I can't decide whether this was supposed to be a compliment or an insult, though I am leaning more towards the latter.

The reasons I wear "such big heels", Anon, is for a variety of reasons. Sometimes most of the time they're a much bigger fashion statement than simple flats, or, God forbid, sneakers.

[socialitesleuth]

please free the Fish from Scott’s imprisonment, where is he ;___;

. . .

@scramjettracy, what is this about you imprisoning your brother?

[socialitesleuth]

Penelope was an expert at these sorts of events. Her smile, charming; her talk, easy; her steps, purposeful. Every click of her heels had a reason. Every flick of her hair held intent. Her jokes were quiet when she wanted only those closest to her to hear; her stories, both those that were truthful and those that were laced with lies, were louder when she wanted to draw more people in.

Penelope shone like a diamond under a bright spotlight when she wished to be seen and, when she didn’t, it was usually an entirely different story.

If she had known Gordon was going to be present at the event, Penelope would have made a very different entrance. She had, of course, spotted him the second she’d entered. Penelope always made sure to take note of every face at these sorts of functions — the waitstaff and the otherwise-overlooked people included — and it didn’t matter that everyone in attendance was wearing a mask tonight; remembering names was only good enough if one could place the face at a later date.

The masks, in their own way, helped distinguish each of the guests. Like hair colour, or the shape of one’s nose, each mask was relatively unique to the owner. Baroness Cecil wore the emerald green; Sir Philip wore the navy blue; Lord Bramston wore the classic domino.

And Gordon Tracy was wearing… gold.

It took all of Penelope’s willpower to not gawk at his presence. Not only had he somehow managed to gain entry into the event, but he’d also remembered her requested colour scheme. Her eyes had been quick, glancing over towards him for a single second, but a second was all she’d needed.

He had quickly — oh so quickly! — turned his attention back to the guests he’d been talking to before her arrival had caused such a stir. Penelope tried not to acknowledge her disappointed feeling in his easy dismissal. Instead she purposefully decided to misread the reason for such an emotion. She wasn’t upset that he pretended her didn’t notice her. No, instead she told herself that she was upset that his reaction had been so obvious!

This was exactly why she didn’t want him tagging along with her in the first place! He was untrained, he was a liability, he was… standing only a few feet away from her after so many days of radio silence, and there she was, berating him over something she knew wasn’t fair.

Penelope’s head was buzzing. Sir Jeremy Hodge had been talking her ear off about Lord knows what, and Penelope was just smiling and nodding away politely as though her mind wasn’t a thousand miles away.

Or, more aptly, across the other side of the room.

She didn’t need to take another glimpse. The whole of Penelope’s left-hand side, the side that was currently facing Gordon, was prickling simply from knowing he was within her reach. She hated how much of a distraction her was already being and she hadn’t even made contact.

As Sir Jeremy left her to begin conversation with a rather wealthy businessman from Boston, Penelope lifted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and began to inch her way closer to the Tracy brother who she couldn’t ever seem to shake.

Making her way through the crowds, greeting those guests she already knew and allowing others to introduce her to the new faces, Penelope made sure to never lose sight of Gordon. It was relatively simple for someone with her skillset and, although she couldn’t be sure, she hoped it hadn’t yet become obvious that she’d noticed him, nor that she was gradually creeping closer to him.

Gordon’s infamous Squid Sense seemed to have a rival. As Penelope engaged in mindless chit-chat, she named her own version of what she’d have otherwise called her naturally good intuition.

Penelope’s Pink Perception was the cause of that tingling feeling from knowing Gordon was nearby. It was the Pink Perception that alerted her to that fact that he’d left the main bar and had headed inside the assembly room.

Kindly excusing herself from her current conversation, the lack of Gordon’s presence had Penelope tailing him through. She wasn’t sure why she was following him. It would have been a lot easier for her to have pretended to have not seen him and carried on with her mission without the distractions, but if she ended up bumping into him at an inconvenient time later… No, she’d much rather have the awkward confrontation now.

She took a deep breath in, willing herself to steel her nerves as she approached Gordon and the woman he was currently conversing with. From behind the golden mask, Penelope’s eyes sparkled. The two were engaged in some sort of friendly chit-chat that abruptly ceased once Penelope joined the pair.

“I’m not interrupting, am I? Only I overheard Mr. Lewisham was looking for you.”

The lie was directed towards the woman. Penelope hadn’t even glanced at Gordon, let alone made eye contact with him, for fear of exploding uncontrollably. In an ideal world, their talk would have been better had away from any prying ears, but given the circumstances, Penelope was glad to just get rid of the nearest possible eavesdropper.

Beside her, she could feel Gordon’s body radiate tension, even if he was doing a good job at trying to hide it. That Pink Perception, however, had her reading him like a book. She knew him far too well for his attempt to actually work. 

She only hoped she was not as easy a read for him as he was for her.

:COMMS BEGIN:

Lady P,

Sorry for the early morning comms, hope this doesn’t wake you too early - I make it just after 5 your time.

We’re just finishing up a mission in the Persian Gulf - a luxury hotel collapsed overnight, on an island just offshore Doha. Only built two years ago, whole place is pretty new and shiny.

Been a rough night, Pen - fifteen we were too late to help, including two kids. Just families on vacation...

Anyway, victims are saying they felt tremors, it certainly looks like a quake from the debris now the sun is up and J is absolutely confident it came from beneath the sea bed (absolutely being a rather irritated direct quote, so I’m not asking again).

But… this isn’t a quake hot zone. It doesn’t make any sense, and there haven’t been any aftershocks either while we’ve been working. Five can’t get a good read because of the debris and mineral interference underground. The whole place is on top of the enormous old oil fields, and it sends the scanners haywire.

The company that owns the hotel has set my squid sense off though. Name’s Fulcra, I’ve sent you the profile on them. Ran by a guy named Randall Price. He’s a venture capitalist from Houston originally, but the company’s HQ is a London address. That’s as far as I’ve managed to get.

They own a couple of the small artificial islands around here that are being used as tourist hotspots. Think luxury waterfront villas on stilts kinda stuff, the hotel that’s collapsed was the biggest. Nice place, high end, lots of good dive spots.

This area’s all under a World Heritage protected marine environment permit for a biosphere reserve. They’ve spent decades trying to replenish the mangroves and coastal vegetation after what the oil fields and production did to the waters here, the aquatic populations are only just starting to rise comfortably. I didn’t understand how they even got permission for this sort of work but…

They’ve got a giant platform further out in the Gulf that’s supposedly ‘cleaning the sea’ and helping to replenish the sea bed. Seems to be some sort of agreement that they can build these resorts, in exchange for what appears to be green work. I tried to get a proper look at the platform in Four, out of interest, but they’ve got laser nets up. I got an autoturret my way for trying to go any further in the exosuit…

I’d like to think they’re just really protecting that biosphere, but I don’t get a nice eco-friend impression.

My gut says I’m getting Hydrexler vibes, and you were right about that oily CEO last time. I’m not sure I want to be right, but I do want to know what’s going on here… and I thought you might too, as our resident top agent with a passion for all things Earth-saving.

So, I thought I’d hand it over to you, and let you do what you do best - cosying up to the billionaires and getting them to spill the tea.

Lemme know if you know or find anything on them. We’re going to be here another couple of hours, finishing up stabilising the debris field and having another run through, and then heading back. S managed to get the Price guy on comms briefly, but he wasn’t much for talking. Maybe you’ll have more luck.

G 🦑

:COMMS END:

FIRST DATE?

The flickering light and the soft buzz from her compact device caught her off-guard. Penelope, who had positioned herself in an armchair beside her tall windows after giving up on sleep half an hour earlier, sat herself up a little straighter. The blanket which she’d wrapped around herself was pulled tighter to her frame as her eyes read the message.

The hour might have been earlier and, on any other day, Penelope might very well have still been sleeping, but today was different. She rubbed her tired eyes as they scanned Gordon’s words. At first, she’d hoped it had been something akin to a social call. She rather enjoyed those, especially when they came from Gordon, but the more she read, the more Penelope realised it was anything but that.

Her interest peaked as she reached Gordon’s conspiracy.

Her mouth grew dry when she reached Gordon’s information.

The blanket was thrown off her body and Penelope stood. With her comms device still in hand, her eyes still darting from left to right as she continued her reading, she crossed her bedroom and gently tugged on the bell. 

Minutes passed before a very sleepy Parker knocked on her bedroom door. Penelope, having only just finished Gordon’s message, opened it.

“Terribly sorry to wake you, Parker, but it seems we have a situation. I need you to cancel my schedule for today and then get me all we have on the company known as Fulcra. CEO is a man named Randall Price.”

“But, m’lady, that’s—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, thank you, Parker. See if you can arrange a meeting of some kind, if that’s at all possible.”

Parker nodded, still more asleep than he was awake, before he trundled off down the hallway to make good of his ladyship’s requests.

Penelope returned to chair by the window and curled herself back up. The sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon as she typed out her reply.

COMMS BEGIN

@squidsinashirt, Thank you for your concern — I shall look into this and get back to you when I

Penelope ceased her typing and sighed. She knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, not after her sent her looking. A moment or two passed before Penelope deleted her previous sentence and began to re-type it. 

COMMS BEGIN

Gordon,

This company?

I shall look into this as you requested but, I must warn you, you may not like what I find. Randall Price is… let us say a man I am already familiar with, or rather his business is. What I can tell you is that, for the most part, Fulcra is celebrated as a rather clean company, but that doesn’t always mean much — you were right to mention Hydrexler. The Persian Gulf was supposed to remain a protected marine environment, at least that was how I understood it. I’ll ask some of my World Heritage connections what they know too, see if I can get a bigger picture for you.

Give me a couple of days. I’ll try and, what was it you said? Cosy up to the billionaire? Get him to spill the tea? Parker is going to try and get me an appointment but, if that fails, I do have an alternative plan.

Do try and get some rest once you’ve finished up. The mission in Doha sounds like it’s been a terribly distressing situation for all involved. You know I am always here if you need to talk about it. Any of it.

I’ll be in touch once I hear something.

Stay safe, 

Penny x

COMMS END

-------------------------------------

Once upon a time, names held weight. Penelope had thought that Scott’s name had simply been too tied up with International Rescue for Randall Price to give him the time of day… until she too was ushered away once the more difficult questions were asked. From her other sources, Penelope had heard only rave reviews of the company. Yet something felt… off.

It was just after dinner when Penelope began her second message to Gordon.

COMMS BEGIN

It's too clean. Not sure what’s going on but I definitely sense something. Plan B is in operation. Randall Price might not have wanted to speak to me today, but he did invite me to his Charity Ball this weekend — I’ll see if I can find out more then.

I’m hoping you returned home safe and sound and that you managed to have a good rest. I suppose it’s my turn to apologise if this message wakes you. 

Penny x

COMMS END

[socialitesleuth]

Ah! Scarlet, isn't it?

I never say no to an extra pair of helping hands, so long as your organisation can still spare you and your expertise.

I find it thoroughly intriguing that not only do the GDF have no apparent plan to visit me any time soon, I am allowed through most major airports entirely unchecked.

That is, of course, the perks of a frequent flyer’s club.

Perhaps a tropical holiday is on the cards.

[socialitesleuth]

With an ancestral home as old as the Creighton-Ward heritage, it is probably common to assume that most people associated with the family are part of the fixtures. Penelope certainly wouldn’t have been where she was today had it not been for her ever faithful manservant. Parker was, without a shadow of a doubt, her mainstay.

Briefly, her mind wanders to her butler-cum-chauffeur. Penelope isn’t one to waver in her opinions or decisions, but when she does find herself questioning her actions, it is almost always when she’s had to leave someone behind. Parker was undoubtedly safer back at the Creighton-Ward Manor, yet her fleeting worry is nonetheless troublesome.

Any lingering doubt is soon replaced with a sense of urgency at John’s questioning. With a few buttons clicked, her wings outstretch and her selected tires ignite. FAB1 is airborne… if one could consider a couple of feet off the ground to be called as such.

Being in the air, no matter how little, causes Penelope to lose control of the vehicle. The high winds catch on the extended wings, pushing and tugging the pink Rolls backwards and forwards, up and down. 

Penelope’s brows furrow. Her clutches onto the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as she fights back against the storm’s new form of attack.

“Hold on…”

She doesn’t dare even cast a glance towards John, her eyes never leaving the instrumentation on the dash in front of her that is flashing warning lights left, right and centre. A few more buttons, a switch here and a switch there — more power. The equivalent of revving the engine a fair few times, Penelope can feel the extra kick as FAB1 lifts higher off the ground.

But higher means less control. The closer they get to the apex, the worse the storm seems to become. Penelope, now a little more in-tune with the way the winds batter the Rolls, is able to keep the turbulence to a minimum. ‘A minimum’ is still like a rollercoaster, however she’s able to lift FAB1 a little higher. It’s slow and it’s tough, but Penelope is able to inch them closer to the drone. She pushes FAB1 to her limit — Parker will probably need to give the car a damn good service tomorrow — as the engines scream at her.

A little more…

A little more…

She isn’t satisfied until they’re as close as they can feasibly get.

“John,” Penelope begins, teeth gritted as she continues to battle the gales, “I hate to rush this wonderful country drive, but if you were planning on doing something, now might be your only window of opportunity.”

Garden Party Gale [RP]

socialitesleuth:

As soon as John’s strapped into the passenger seat, FAB 1 takes off down the driveway and, within seconds, the pink Rolls is cruising out of the Creighton-Ward estate and into the countryside beyond. “You know,” Penelope begins casually, as though they weren’t leaving the shelter of the manor behind in favour of their daredevil mission, and were instead about to embark on a leisurely drive instead. “Before I hired Parker, I used to drive myself around. Remember the late afternoon jaunts in Oxford? Oh, those were the days.” She trails off wistfully, rose-tinted memories replaying in her mind’s eye. She knows he knows of her capability but the stress of the current situation is distracting and, momentarily, Penelope lapses into thinking she has to defend herself.  For someone rarely at the wheel, Penelope is quite at home. Every so often, her eyes dart from the road to the map John has helpfully linked to the dash. Her hands remain at the 9 o’clock and 3 o’clock positions, keeping a tight rein on the car as the strong winds battle away outside. Occasionally the Rolls does swerve to the left and right, but it’s nothing to be worried about. Penelope is never not in control. The open roads are where the winds are the worst. With empty fields stretching out on either side of them, there’s nothing to shield them from the force of the gale. And, as John had rightfully predicted, the closer they drove towards the epicentre, the stronger it became. Only twice did they have to take a detour from their previously set route — once due to masses of debris cluttering the roadway, the other due to severe flooding — but, after over half an hour on the road, the red, flashing dot that had symbolised their destination ceased it’s flashing. They’d arrived. Penelope flicks off the ignition. The dying sound of the engine is quickly replaced by the howling of the winds outside. There is no mistaking that this was the epicentre. “Well, I think we’ve found the source.”

John raises an eyebrow. He'd rather assumed Parker has just always existed - like the Creighton Ward wine cellar, dating back to the 11th century, has just always existed. The man seems practically part of the manor furniture.

John is tense as a bowstring in the plush passenger seat, but it has little to do with her driving. They are, fortunately, the only car in sight - as even FAB1's mighty engine is struggling against the ferocious storm that's swallowed the highway.

The howling wind smashes its ghostly fists against them, rocking the car's reinforced metal frame. The road is slick with the relentless, lashing rain and the tyres have to fight for grip through the flooding; liable to aquaplane at any moment. The wipers move furiously to try and clear Penny's view, but they barely sweep away the onslaught of water before it's replaced with another. Each gust of wind threatens to push the car off course, and the sky is black with clouds. Her headlights flicker in the darkness, barely piercing the thick veil of rain. John, used to the perfect, clean, dry safety of Thunderbird Five, finds his heart racing as the storm only grows louder and more unforgiving around them.

Then Penelope points to something in the sky, high above them.

Twenty feet up is a slick, black robot held aloft by six giant fan blades. One of Fischler's weather drones. John thinks they seem much bigger in person. Sparking and spitting, the storm whipping up around the base of the thing must be creating winds of, John pulls up a scanner at his wrist and quickly tries to do some mental math, around sixty mph.

"Can FAB1 fly in these conditions?" John almost has to shout to be heard over the roaring vortex, "I've got to get up there to attach Eos' unit, to shut the thing down."

[socialitesleuth]

How exciting! Of course, I'd be delighted to accompany you.

And it isn't bizarre in the slightest; they've asked for you contribution because you have plenty to contribute, not to mention the contributions you've already contributed. I've said that word far too much now, it's starting to sound weird... No matter what some of those nasty Anons claim, your work is important and it is valued, Gordon. You deserve this spotlight. You deserve to shine. We'll all be there, cheering you on!

Oh. You're leaving the fashion choices to Scott? That's a... bold choice.

Mr Gordon Tracy.

The International Union for the Conservation of Nature would like to request your attendance at our annual meeting and gala evening as our guest speaker on behalf of Tracy Industries’ and  International Rescue’s phenomenal conservation work and world leading innovation.

Our annual gala is the highlight of our calendar and brings together the brightest minds and largest organisations to celebrate the achievements of the conservation world, with around 2,000 attendees at our location in Switzerland. This will take place in April, details on the event information above. 

We would be delighted to have your attendance and to hear from you as our keynote evening speaker. Please RSVP for further information, with any required travel arrangements for yourself and up to eight guests covered.

We look forward to hearing from you. 

(… oh heck. @scramjettracy this seems like a misunderstanding, this is CEO business stuff, think it was for you)

[socialitesleuth]

Oh, well this is fun! Coffee has never really been a favourite of mine, I'm afraid... Do you think they'd switch it out for a free cup of tea instead?

@socialitesleuth !!!

[socialitesleuth]

OOC Post (under the cut)

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

One whole year of Penny! Thank you to everyone who's commented, liked, sent asks, replied to or interacted in any other way, shape or form with her. When I initially set her up, I didn't think she'd last a few months but here we are. Twelve months later. Here's to twelve more! <3