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The Essential Tips For A Smooth Office Relocation In 2023
There can be a lot of work involved in relocating an office. A smooth relocation requires careful planning, communication, and execution to ensure that the business's operations are not disrupted during the process. In the current global environment, relocating an office to 2023 presents a unique challenge that must be overcome. There may be an element of hope in the roll out of the vaccine, but it is also important to remember the uncertainty that still surrounds the pandemic. Consequently, it is imperative that you heed the tips below in order to guarantee that your secure office relocation goes smoothly and successfully.
Getting a head start on planning is important
The process of relocating an office can take a considerable amount of time. It would be best if you could start the process as early as possible so that you will have enough time to ensure all the details are covered. First of all, depending on the size of the business, you may need to put together an internal committee to oversee the whole process. It is recommended that the committee consists of representatives from various departments in order to ensure that it has a well-rounded appearance.
Make sure you hire movers who are experts in their field
Office relocations are highly dependent on the professionalism and expertise of the moving company. With the right professional movers on board, you can ensure that the office inventory gets to the new location in perfect condition and on time. Research is paramount if you want to find office relocation companies London that have experience and a good reputation for moving services. Also, the movers should be insured, licensed, and should adhere to a number of industry regulations.
Plan out a communication strategy that works for your business
The relocation process is a time when communication is crucial. It is your responsibility to keep the staff aware of the progress of the move before the actual day of the move arrives. It would be best to establish channels of communication, such as email lists, social media groups, and individual meetings. Keeping the staff informed about the move and reassuring them that their jobs are secure is the goal of the communication.
Make a detailed inventory of all the items you want to sell
Planning and coordinating a move of an office requires a great deal of effort. It is imperative that a detailed inventory is made of all the items that will be relocated. Among the items included in the inventory should be equipment, furniture, and personal belongings. By categorizing your items, you will be able to keep track of each item and ensure that it reaches its destination in a timely manner.
Be sure to back up important files and documents on a regular basis.
If your office relocates, it is possible that you will lose important files and documents as a result. As a result, it is essential to make a backup of your files and documents. In order to ensure the documents remain safe, it would be a great idea if you made multiple copies of them in separate locations, just in case something unexpected was to happen to the originals.
As a business owner, you must carefully plan, communicate, and execute a relocation of your office before you can begin the process. The following tips will provide you with a framework to ensure a smooth and successful move if you follow them. Starting the planning process early, working with professional movers, communicating with staff, creating a detailed inventory, and backing up vital files and documents are all critical factors that will help ensure a successful office relocation 2023.
Universal Commercial Relocations - Office Relocation London will help you move your business
There is no better choice than Universal Commercial Relocation – Office Relocation London if you are looking for a reliable and professional moving company in the UK. You can feel confident that our team of experienced movers will ensure that your move will be as stress-free as possible thanks to their commitment to quality. In addition to offering an extensive range of moving services, we also provide packing, transportation and storage services, so we can cater to all the needs of our customers.
You may contact us today at 0208 575 1133 or by email at [email protected] if you would like to learn more about our services or receive a free, no-obligation quote. Please feel free to contact us at any time and we will respond promptly to any questions you may have. With our team being there for you from beginning to end, you will be able to enjoy complete peace of mind during your move.
#office relocation services#office removals#office relocation specialists#office relocation checklist#office relocation tips#office relocation management#secure office relocation#office furniture relocation#commercial storage#commercial self storage
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The Role of Technology in Modern Commercial Space Planning - The Quality Group
The introduction of new technologies has transformed the field of commercial space planning. Technology has changed the way firms approach space planning, from design and visualization tools to smart building management systems. In this article, we will look at the role of technology in modern commercial space planning and the benefits it provides to organizations. To know more visit https://qualitygroup-usa.com/ or call us at (833) 756-0103.
#Baton Rouge office moving company#corporate moving companies New Orleans#office movers Louisiana#Office relocation specialists
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Planning a warehouse relocation task? Allaince Relocation Group is your best solution! Most businessses consider a warehouse relocation project as a challenging, demanding, stressful, and time-consuming process. However, a professional warehouse relocation company takes away all the stress while accelerating your growth. To know more about our services, visit https://www.officerelocations.com.au/warehouse-relocation/ today!
#business relocation services#business removalists#commercial removalists#office furniture movers#office furniture removalists#office relocation services#office relocation specialists#office movers melbourne
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Dronfield Household Removals: Professional and Efficient Services
Moving can be a daunting task, but with our expert team at We Do Your Move, it doesn’t have to be. We specialize in residential relocations in Dronfield, offering a comprehensive range of services tailored to make your move seamless and stress-free.
Why Choose Us for Your Move?
Our commitment to providing outstanding service sets us apart from other movers in the area. We understand that every relocation is unique, and we strive to meet the individual needs of each client. Our experienced professionals handle your belongings with care, ensuring everything arrives safely at your new home.
Our Range of Services
We offer a variety of services to accommodate your specific moving needs. From packing and loading to transportation and unpacking, we’ve got you covered. Our team is equipped with the right tools and vehicles to ensure your items are moved efficiently and safely.
Local Expertise
Being local to Dronfield, we know the area inside and out. This knowledge allows us to navigate the best routes and avoid potential delays. Our familiarity with the local regulations and parking restrictions helps streamline the moving process, making it smoother for you. Our team is dedicated to providing reliable and efficient moving services tailored to your needs. We believe in making every move a positive experience.
Personalized Moving Plans
Every move is different, which is why we create personalized moving plans for our clients. We take the time to understand your specific requirements, whether you're moving a small apartment or a large family home. This tailored approach ensures that we meet your expectations every step of the way.
Customer Satisfaction is Our Priority
We pride ourselves on our excellent customer service. Our team is dedicated to ensuring that your move is as smooth as possible. We keep you informed throughout the process and are always available to address any concerns you may have. At We Do Your Move, we specialize in household removals and residential relocations.
Conclusion
If you’re planning a move in Dronfield, look no further than We Do Your Move. Our professional team is ready to assist you in making your relocation a success. Contact us today for a free quote and let us help you start this exciting new chapter in your life.
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#movers and packers Bhatinda#shifting#relocation service#transportation#relocation#relocation company#relocation camp#relocation services#moversandpackers#office relocation#shifting services#house shifting services#relocation experts#relocation specialist#packersandmovers#packers and movers in Bhatinda
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Furniture Moving Made Easy: Mmovers Dubai
Experience hassle-free furniture moving with Mmovers, Dubai's trusted specialists. Our skilled furniture movers ensure safe, affordable, and efficient relocation services. Get a free quote and enjoy a stress-free move today!
#Furniture Movers Dubai#Dubai Movers Specialists#Affordable Furniture Relocation#Reliable Furniture Moving Companies#Office Relocation Services Dubai
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Get The Best Office Removals London Services
MTC Office Removals London is just the right Office Relocations Company that you can trust for quick and efficient service. You won't have to worry about spending more time on this activity than is necessary when working with a team of experts. We are a corporate relocation London company that offers Crates, Storage & Removal.
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https://qualitygroup-usa.com/what-can-you-do-with-old-office-furniture/
What Can You Do with Old Office Furniture? - The Quality Group
While your office is being relocated, checklists are being marked, boxes are being packed, and vital files are being collected. But hold on! What are you going to do with your old office furniture? When faced with this quandary, fortunately, there are various solutions. You could want to get rid of your old furnishings and redecorate your new home. However, there are other viable options for dealing with this scenario. Read on to learn more about what to deal with old office furniture and how to manage new office furniture installation in Jackson, MS. To know more visit https://qualitygroup-usa.com/relocation-project-management/ or call us at (833) 756-0103.
#Baton Rouge office moving company#corporate moving companies New Orleans#office movers Louisiana#Office relocation specialists
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Gaslight, Chapter 14/48
Rated X | Read it here on AO3
Six weeks later
“I’ll be home late,” Diana tells him, rushing around as she scrambles to get out the door. “Don’t forget to put the garbage out tonight.”
He nods, sipping from his coffee mug. Frenchie rests her head on his thigh and he gives her a pat, an unspoken promise that they will go for a walk soon.
“Did you call the cable company?” Diana asks, halting in the doorway of the laundry room.
“No, but I will,” he says.
“Okay, thank you,” she continues, collecting shoes, briefcase, purse, travel coffee mug. “Please remember to take your medication. See you tonight.”
She gets as far as the door into the garage, then turns back and hurries over to him, her heels clacking against the tiled floor. She kisses him briefly on the cheek, and then is out the door in a flash, leaving him and Frenchie alone in the house.
“All right, French Face, let’s go,” he says, and the dog woofs, her tail wagging excitedly.
The heat of early summer is already warming the pavement, sending the metallic, earthy smell of concrete and dandelions up into his nose. Frenchie trots happily beside him, stopping to inspect bushes and street signs for messages left behind by other dogs. The Children’s House is noisy and chaotic, the older children waiting at the corner for the bus and the younger ones puttering around the driveway as their mother supervises the whole lot from the front porch. She waves and he waves back, then crosses the street so he doesn’t distract the children with his appealing furry friend.
He’s beginning to sweat by the time they make it back to the house, which exacerbates his already buzzing nerves. From the back of the closet he pulls out his nicest suit, black Armani, and pairs it with a blue dress shirt and black tie. When his wingtips are on his feet and his hair is styled just so, he lets Frenchie outside one last time, then leaves her with a bone that should entertain her for the several hours she’ll be confined to the house. He climbs into his car and navigates out of the neighborhood and then onto the turnpike, his stomach already in knots.
It’s the lie that bothers him the most, followed closely by the possible outcome if this goes to plan. Sneaking around, lying, obfuscating: these are things he swore he would never do again, promises he made on his knees as his whole life flashed before his eyes. And here he is, letting Diana believe that he will spend the day at work and then helping Fred put together his new entertainment center when he will be nowhere near his office, nor Fred’s house.
He tried to talk to her about it. Several times, several ways. He made frequent mention of feeling unfulfilled by his work, demonstrated a renewed interest in exploring the unexplained. When his subtlety went unnoticed, he directly told her that he had thought about re-engaging with the FBI and moving back to the DC area.
“Absolutely not,” she’d said emphatically, setting her fork down and turning more fully toward him in her seat at the kitchen island. “We’re established here, Jeff. I have a career here, we have friends and a mortgage. I’m not interested in starting over again.”
Just start again.
He attempted to compromise and suggested that he could work out of the Philadelphia field office instead of Quantico or the Hoover if the Bureau would have him back, perhaps even consult as a behavioral specialist. The answer across the board was no. No to relocating, and absolutely no to re-joining the FBI. The level of anger in her response left him feeling hurt and confused, wondering why she was more focused on the quality of his ideas for improving his own happiness than the fact that he’s unhappy in the first place.
Had she asked, he would have told her that he feels stuck. Stuck in a job that’s no longer fulfilling, stuck in a daily routine that’s become predictable and boring, stuck in a life that he isn’t sure he ever wanted to lead in the first place. Diana herself spends enormous amounts of time at work in Philly, and when she’s home she holes up in the office, on phone call after phone call well into the evening hours. He empathizes with the stressful nature of her job, but he sometimes feels like he doesn’t have a wife at all.
This job posting fell into his lap, literally. Diana brought in the mail and tossed his favorite newspaper unceremoniously in his direction, and he caught it by the folded edge before it fell to the floor. It opened itself to the classifieds, and a particular advertisement caught his eye.
Seeking Trained and Experienced/Licensed Therapists for Clinical Research
John Hopkins Bayview Medical Center
Department of Psychiatry Administration
It felt like fate. A new city, a new job, one that seeks to find answers to as yet unasked questions. And so he applied, and got a call the very next day. If he’s offered the position, he will have to make a choice: decline and continue slogging through each day of this unfulfilling life, or accept and tell Diana that he’s going, with or without her. At this moment in time, flying down the freeway at seventy miles per hour with Green Day filling his ears, both options are too terrifying to even consider.
The interchange comes up and he is faced with the first choice that will lead him to a series of others: stay on the turnpike and drive into Philly, or get on 476 and head south. One way to more of the same, the other to the great unknown.
He exits, taking 476 south, calculating about two hours to Baltimore.
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“Thank you for your time, Mr. Spender. I can’t make any promises, but I can tell you that we’re very impressed with your work history and your intended research methodology.”
He stands, accepting the proffered hand and focusing on a firm, confident handshake.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Bering. If there are any questions that come to mind, anything I may not have answered, please feel free to reach out by phone or email. Based on what you’ve shared about the work you do here, I’m very interested.”
He’s escorted back to the lobby, though he and Mr. Bering continue talking for upwards of fifteen minutes. By the time he walks back through the doors into the late afternoon sun, he feels buoyant and hopeful for the first time that he can remember in years.
The nature of the research, the opportunity to be a part of a dedicated team and impact the course of treatment for test subjects, his own office, a salary that exceeds his current earnings: it’s all too good to be true. He has the reflexive thought that he can’t wait to tell Diana, but then remembers that she will be anything but happy for him. He’ll have to wait and find out if he gets an offer before he broaches the subject with her—no use overturning the whole apple cart for nothing.
He returns to his car, too optimistic to be bothered by the parking ticket pinned under one of his windshield wipers, and heads back toward the highway. Just before he gets to the on-ramp, he sees a small coffee shop and decides to stop. This day is already going so well, a cup of decent coffee would only serve to make it even better.
He waits in line, debating getting a cookie but ultimately deciding not to risk getting crumbs all over his good suit.
“Hi, welcome in. What can I get for you?” the barista coos with a genuine smile.
“Just a large black coffee, please. No room.”
“You got it,” she says, throwing him a flirtatious wink that makes him think he should wear this suit more often.
He pays and makes his way over to the coffee bar to wait. He starts to think about how he might break the news to Diana, but quickly decides to focus on the positive and imagines himself living here, driving into work each day to do something different, maybe even stopping for coffee at this very shop.
“Latte for Dana,” the barista calls out, sliding a lidded paper cup across the countertop.
He realizes that the life he’s imagining: his morning routine, his evenings in a one bedroom apartment—ground floor for easy dog walking—don’t include Diana at all. And perhaps that’s because he already knows what her answer will be.
Just start again.
He becomes aware of someone standing very near to him, too close to be another patron waiting for their coffee. He looks over to find a very petite woman with red hair and a fair complexion staring at him, an oddly intense expression on her face. She’s quite pretty, but she also looks distraught.
“Mulder?” she says, her voice husky, and his eyebrows furrow, confused. “Mulder, it’s me,” she says insistently, and it’s clear that she thinks she knows him.
“Black coffee for Jeff.”
“I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” he says gently, and the way her face falls feels like a punch to the gut.
“Your name isn’t Mulder?” she asks, her voice growing tight as her eyes well with tears.
“No, I’m Jeff,” he says, offering his hand reflexively. “Jeff Spender.”
“Oh,” she says, a tiny ghost of a sound, as she places her hand limply in his and allows him to pump it up and down twice. She shakes her head gently, remembering her manners, and then says, “Dana. I’m Dana.”
“I think these are our coffees, Dana,” he says with an attempt at a smile, stepping forward to pick up both cups before handing one to her.
“Thank you,” she says in a near whisper, wrapping both hands around her cup and staring down at the lid.
“Are you okay?” he asks, feeling worried for this stranger who is clearly not quite in her right mind.
She looks up at him, and he’s momentarily taken aback by the icy blue of her eyes. Like ocean water. Like glaciers. Like the sky on a cloudless day.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she says, much more confidently.
They both head for the doors of the coffee shop, and he takes two long strides to get ahead of her, holding the door open as she walks through.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, squinting against the sun.
They stand awkwardly on the sidewalk, and he has an odd feeling of responsibility for her, like he shouldn’t leave her here in the state that she’s in.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, searching her face. “Is there someone you can call?”
She clears her throat and looks at the ground.
“Yes, my husband. But I’m fine, really. I just have a short drive home,” she insists, though not all that convincingly.
“Are you local?” he asks, continuing to make conversation for reasons he doesn’t understand. “I might be moving here soon, actually. From Philly.”
“No,” she answers blandly. “Ellicott City.”
“Ah,” he says, bobbing his head.
Awkwardness descends over them, and though he still feels compelled to see to her safe return home, he accepts that this is where his interaction with her will end.
“It was nice to meet you, Dana. Take care,” he says, and she looks up at him with some mix of alarm and melancholy.
“You too…Jeff,” she replies, dazed
He returns to his car, then sits and watches as she stands on the sidewalk for several minutes looking devastated, then finally climbs into a slate gray BMW. For several more minutes her car sits, unmoving, and eventually she pulls out of the lot and drives away.
He heads back north, arriving home to an empty house, save for Frenchie. He stashes his suit, changes into running shorts and a T-shirt, and they go on an evening run together, burning off her energy and his excitement. He keeps thinking about the woman at the coffee shop, and how disappointed she seemed that he was not whoever she was looking for. He has the urge to help her somehow, to find this Mulder who must bear some resemblance to him.
When he gets home, he feeds Frenchie and takes his blood pressure medication, then grabs a pen from the junk drawer and scrawls “Mulder” on a post-it note. Maybe he’ll do some internet sleuthing, just as a project. Maybe he’ll find his doppelganger and tell him that Dana in Ellicott City is trying to find him.
He eats dinner, showers, and is reading in bed when he hears Diana come in through the front door. There is the thunk of her discarding her heels, the opening and closing of cupboards, the tinkle of ice cubes as she makes herself a drink. He considers pretending to be asleep so he won’t have to lie about his day, and is just closing his book when her voice booms up the stairs.
“Jeff?!” she says in an alarmingly serious tone that has him scrambling out of bed and down the stairs to see what’s wrong.
“What is it?” he says, his heart racing and his feet fumbling over the steps.
He arrives in the kitchen to find her holding the post-it note like it’s a pair of unfamiliar panties, and she looks up at him with a horrified expression.
“What is this?” she asks, turning it so he can see his own handwriting.
“I think it’s a name?” he answers, confused by her demeanor.
“Where did you get it?” she asks sharply.
He steps forward, taking it from her hand.
“I was at a coffee shop today and this woman came up to me and called me ‘Mulder.’ She thought I was someone else. I was thinking about maybe looking into it,” he says lightly, downplaying the situation and leaving out the detail about what city he was in when the exchange took place.
“Looking into what?” she asks, her tone still suspicious and hard.
“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, tossing the post-it onto the kitchen counter. “Nothing, I guess. It was just odd. She really seemed sure I was this other person. Forget about it, Diana, it’s not a big deal.”
“What did she look like?” Diana asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Who?”
“The woman in the coffee shop.”
He recognizes the true concern here. She’s taking this as a red flag, a bread crumb. The fact that he is hiding something from her only makes the stakes higher. He could tell her about the job interview, or he could let her think that he’s sneaking around again, meeting up with strange women. He decides to go with another lie.
“Fifties, brown hair, heavy set,” he says convincingly. “She didn’t look familiar to me at all, which is what made it so weird. But honestly, Diana, it’s nothing. You can just throw that out.” He begins to walk away, showing complete disinterest in the post-it and the name written there. “You coming to bed?” he asks, one foot already on the bottom step.
“In a bit,” she says flatly. “I need to make a phone call.”
He listens as she walks to the office, Frenchie’s claws clicking across the tile as she follows. When the office door closes, Frenchie whines at having been locked out. He hears the murmur of Diana’s voice as she makes a phone call, the pitch of it increasing and then decreasing sharply over and over.
He makes his way back into bed, turns off the light, and tries to get tired. He thinks about the job, the potential offer, the eventual move. He wonders if Frank and the guys will drive down to visit. He thinks about the woman, Dana, and whether she got home okay. He wonders where he’ll be one year from now. If he’ll be happy. If he’ll be free.
Just start again.
Tagging @today-in-fic
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Looking for the best commercial furniture movers in Melbourne? Come to Allaince Relocation Group! We are happy to cater to your needs and experts in storage and office furniture removal. Our removalists are second-to-none, experienced and reliable to make your move easy with our office furniture relocation services. Visit https://www.officerelocations.com.au/office-furniture-relocation/ for more information!
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Dronfield Household Removals: Your Move, Our Expertise
Moving to a new home can be both exciting and stressful, but with Dronfield household removals, you can ensure a smooth and efficient transition. Our expertise in residential moving guarantees that your move is handled with the utmost care and professionalism.
1. Dronfield Residential Moving Specialists: Tailored for Your Needs
Dronfield residential moving specialists are dedicated to providing personalized services that cater to your unique moving needs. These experts understand the intricacies of relocating a household, from packing and loading to transportation and unpacking. By customizing their services, they ensure that your move is as seamless and stress-free as possible.
2. Dronfield House Movers: Efficient and Reliable
When you choose Dronfield house movers, you’re opting for a team that combines efficiency with reliability. These movers are trained to handle every aspect of the moving process, including disassembling furniture, securing fragile items, and navigating the logistics of your move. Their goal is to make your relocation smooth and hassle-free, allowing you to focus on settling into your new home.
3. Dronfield Residential Relocation: Comprehensive Services
Dronfield residential relocation services cover all the bases to ensure a successful move. From initial planning to final unpacking, these services are designed to take the burden off your shoulders. With a focus on careful handling and organized logistics, you can trust that your belongings will arrive at your new home in excellent condition.
Summary:
Household removals in Dronfield by Chamberlain's Removals provide the knowledge and individualized attention required for a smooth transition. With specialists who understand the nuances of residential relocation, you can enjoy a smooth transition to your new home. Trust the professionals to handle every detail, making your move a seamless experience and allowing you to start your new chapter with ease.
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posted about this when it happened i think but i can't find it so i am talking about it again, story of my life!!!
a couple years ago my partner was exposed to respirable fiberglass at work. a fan in an HVAC vent broke and tore into the surrounding fiberglass insulation, circulating tiny fiberglass particles throughout the office. the whole workspace was noticeably covered in dust, but no one was aware of the source of the dust or how significant the issue was, and no one looked into it, so fiberglass particles continued to circulate for a few days. finally, one of my partner's coworkers started coughing up blood and went to urgent care on her own dime; the torn insulation was discovered; other employees, including my partner, began coughing; everyone was told that it was safe to remain in the office. my partner texted me about this & obviously i freaked out. i sent back a NIOSH link and said that it sounded unsafe to me. my partner's whole office banded together & insisted that they be relocated, the duct repaired, the office cleaned, and air quality tests performed, which they got after repeated insistence. (they were non-union public employees in a state without an occupational health & safety administration, so this was essentially their only option for any kind of redress.)
then i spent weeks taking my partner to urgent care and then finally to a lung specialist, watching her cough convulsively. these visits were covered by worker's compensation, which means that if my partner does exhibit lung problems down the line, her employer bears no responsibility. my partner is completely okay now, for which i am very grateful, but i keep thinking about the experience, especially at doctors' offices. i drove my partner to all of her appointments, and sat in with her for all of them. the first urgent care person we saw prescribed an inhaler and a short steroid course and diagnosed her with lung irritation; the whole issue seemed novel to them. the second person we saw, on a scheduled follow-up, walked in and said 'you're here with covid, right,' and then became rude and defensive when we said we weren't (why would we lie about this??); she seemed suspcious of the whole story and told my partner to stop using the inhaler to see if things improved, even though my partner still had at least one convulsive coughing fit a day. on the third urgent care visit, another scheduled follow-up, the health care provider we talked to had my partner's inhaler refilled and talked to her about documenting her symptoms and protecting herself from her employer, then referred us to a lung specialist. the lung specialist clearly did not do a lot of worker's comp cases but had a lot of regulars with various chronic lung problems; while we were talking to him a patient leaned into his office door and said, 'bye, larry! see you next month,' which charmed me immensely. his office staff initially didn't let me come back from the waiting room with my partner, because they were concerned i might be a representative from her employer, but were very kind as soon as she explained. larry's primary concern seemed to be making sure that my partner was okay (she had recovered by the time we got in to see him), but his very immediate secondary concern was making sure that she had someone on her side against her employer. he mused jokingly over the 'industrial bronchitis' code, explained that fiberglass is a bit like asbestos, and said that there was no way to know what might happen down the line but he was happy to certify this claim for her.
the reason i have typed up this whole mess is that i kept thinking about the company doctor system in coal country while it was happening, and now i am thinking about the part of alice driver's 'life and death of the american worker' where workers describe what working with tyson's on-site nurses was like (horrible, mainly!). some of the health care workers we talked to were suspicious, dubious, unconvinced by my partner's account of her symptoms and exposure, and all of them were unfamiliar with industrial dust disease (it's niche, to be fair! occupational health is its own field). some of them were intensely aware of the power dynamics between a worker and an employer, and felt their responsibility as an outside authority clearly; i think i actually cried after the third urgent care visit, because the person we talked to was so genuine and immediately, insistently on my partner's side ('you have to look out for yourself! your boss won't do it. video your coughing fits if you need to, so you have evidence!'). what do healthcare workers do when confronted with a person who has medical symptoms outside of their expectations or experience? whose side do they take, and are they aware that there are sides? how can we make sure that disempowered people get quality medical care? my partner said it helped that i was there, because i had read about dust disease + helped her remember her symptoms; that's something, i guess, but even though we had to go to doctors in the workers' comp firm's network they were still clearly outside doctors. the stakes are just crushingly high & i think about it all the time.
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BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (8)
Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.
Characters: Kakashi Hatake
Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto
WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury
START/ PREV/
The view from the window in Wada’s office is of tall, glass covered buildings and what must be a railway looping around them. The train that zips along the tracks travels at speeds far surpassing similar technologies available in the Land of Snow. The Land of Snow’s chakra rich atmosphere allowed its trains and other technology to run on a mix of chakra and steam generated electricity. It was a combination prone to overheating and blowing up, meaning it was only really viable in cold climates. Kakashi hadn’t cared enough to follow up on the Land of Snow’s rail system after delivering the initial intel to Konoha’s intelligence division. Large scale infrastructure was only an asset in a country so isolated that there was no major risk of it getting targeted by enemy nations. The speed of the trains in Hosu have him reevaluating that assessment.
“Hatake?”
Konoha used steam to generate its own electricity as far as Kakashi was aware, the specifics of which escaped him. All he knew was that it was resource intensive, its exact location was marked ‘need to know’ and only half the village’s buildings were connected to it. The power generation system used to move Hosu’s trains at such a speed might be worth investigating. It was obviously more efficient than Konoha’s system if it powered the train and all the infrastructure around him.
“Hatake?”
Kakashi shifts his gaze back to Wada’s office and away from the city, propping up his elbow on the arm of his wheelchair so he can lean against it.
“Hatake,” Wada crosses his arms, pushing back on his chair so he rolls out from behind his desk, “Are you listening? If you’re tired, we can have this conversation tomorrow.”
He tilts his head to the slide to meet the doctor’s disapproving stare.
“You want my personal information for a residency application. We were also about to run through my diagnosis and tests results,” Kakashi idly summarises Wada’s last few minuets of lecturing. “I would like to hear what the quirk specialist has to say about my quirk,” he adds, trying to inject a little enthusiasm into his voice so he is not immediately wheeled back to his room for another week of rest.
“Please call me Kakashi,” he throws in as an afterthought.
“Yes. Yes. Kakashi then.” Wada waves the correction away, “I’m going to need more than a name if you want further aid from the City. After your discharge you’ll be left high and dry at this rate. Don’t think I don’t see you trying to avoid the topic.”
Wada’s irritation has Kakashi nodding along for good measure, prompting the doctor to continue talking with a sigh of mild frustration, “This is all quite complicated. At the moment, you’re being treated under Tokyo’s District Collateral Damage Scheme which would usually extend to relocation, occupation support, and asset recovery. However as the investigation into the attack on your person hasn’t linked it to any credible Villain activity, you’ll need to be a resident of Japan to receive further support.”
Wada frowns at him, “That’s a problem seeing as we see can’t find any of your records.”
“Hmm,”
“You have no birth certificate, citizenship information, school records, place of residence, career history or passport,” Wada lists, “Are you absolutely sure Hatake Kakashi is the name we need to be searching under?”
There is another pause where a reply would usually go. Kakashi finally lets his full attention sit squarely on Wada, taking in his mildly irritated expression and how his eyebrows are drawn together in a slight frown. The man is leaning forward, arms crossed, irritate but keen for a response. Kakashi habitably scans for signs of deception.
“Why.” Kakashi finally asks, voice dropping flat as be briefly lets his suspicions seep into this tone. The medical attention he could understand. Doctor Wada was being paid by the hospital to give him medical care because of its poor patient vetting. This other help wasn’t medical attention. Kakashi wasn’t Wada’s friend, ally, or family member. He doesn’t have ties to the man outside of being his patient and he knows Wada doesn’t pay this much attention to his other patients.
Wada huffs, throwing up his hands, moving from vaguely annoyed to openly exasperated. If Wada hears the underlining threat in Kakashi’s question, he wilfully ignores it.
“You walk out of hospital like this, and you’ll be jobless on the streets by sunset. Rent. Jobs. Bank accounts. They all need identification. Best we get this sorted while you still have access to the hospital’s resources.”
“And you do this for everyone?” Kakashi asks sceptically, because Wada has obviously misunderstood him.
“Humph.” Wada grunts, “Most of my patients have relatives and friends visiting every few days and aren’t missing all their personal records. Helping people isn’t just for the Heroes you know. Us regular people like to give it a go every now and then as well.”
Kakashi stares as the man gives a resolute nod like his had given a valid answer to Kakashi’s question. What did being a Hero have to do with anything?
“I see.” He really didn’t but maybe this was a normal doctor thing to do? This world was so strange.
“Unfortunately, I don’t remember anything else of use,” Kakashi repeats. It was probably the most truthful he has been since waking. Kakashi has no further information for Wada revenant to his lack of records.
“Yes, very unfortunate,” Wada sounds ever so slightly disappointed, “unfortunate for you. I’m not a miracle worker. You’re going to have issues with this lack of records.” He rolls back behind his desk, yanking out a stack of paper held together with thick metal clips. As he shifts objects on the desk around to clear space, Wada continues, “I might be able to get you a job interview with a friend of mine and I might be able to get you into some city subsidized housing. But that’s an iffy might…all I can promise.”
Never mind that Kakashi hasn’t asked for anything since his arrival.
Wada slaps the stack of paper down on the desk flipping it in Kakashi’s direction and sliding across towards him. “You can show your appreciation by paying attention. Your medical records are the only thing we do have at the moment.”
Kakashi examines the booklet, raising a questioning eyebrow. On top of it is one of those plastic communication rectangles. Phones. It is black with a black screen.
“This is my old phone, no sim card but you’ll be able to connect to the Hospital’s internet. I’ll see if I can get you a charger tomorrow and set you up with patient access account.”
Wada moves the phone to one side.
“This is you’re recovery plan. I took the liberty of printing it out for you. Though with your quirk it’ll probably be a waste of paper.” Wada follows the sentence up with a quick, “Once you’re cleared to use it. Which you’re currently not. Don’t even think about it.”
Kakashi raises a hand in a loose calming motion.
“…and on the topic of your quirk….” Wada fusses around, patting himself down muttering, “Where is it. I swear if I lose another pen…Ah.” He pulls out a pen, leaning forward to scribble out a line of numbers and letters.
“You’re Registry ID. Won’t be for active for another week at least. But, once it is, if anyone gives you trouble for using your quirk in public you can tell them to go look up your file. I sent all your information off to be assessed and your quirk is probably going to be registered as ‘passive biological’ which is an automatic Licence Waiver if I’m remembering my law correctly.”
“Don’t quote me on that. I’m a doctor, not a legal professional. And just because you can use it, doesn’t mean you should. High Stress quirks need to be carefully managed.”
Wada reaches over and flips the booklet open, tapping the page.
“Your quirk puts a huge strain on your brain. Specifically, it strains your memory and vision processing centres. The expert opinion is that your body’s fast regenerative factor has naturally evolved to offset this physical stress.” Wada hums, pausing in his explanation to check that Kakashi is following. “Unfortunately, even with this mutation your quirk is maladaptive at best actively destructive at worst.”
Kakashi glances at the page Wada is scribbling on. It has a diagram of a brain with serval areas now circled in blue pen ink.
“See this area here. This shows high activity. And see how it how activity increases when your quirk is active.” Wada flips the page, “And then activity in these outer sections of your brain drops to practically zero? None of this is good in the long term.”
Wada clears his throat, “A lot of your body’s resources are being devoted to vision and memory processing and it has led to enlargement and increased activity in these areas. This sort of imbalance in the brain has been connected to depression, paranoia, anxiety, chronic stress and panic disorders. Something you’ll need to keep an eye on it and I have noted on your registry file when it comes time for your annual quirk check-up. I have also taken the liberty of scheduling some initial psychologist appointments with Hosu General.”
All this sounds somewhat familiar. He thinks in he has ben given similar warnings about sharingun and dojutsu users being more prone to severe paranoia episodes by medic-nin.
Honestly, with the rate Uchiha went loopy, he is not surprised to find out that the sharigun messed with the brain in other ways. He had always just chalked it up to the unpleasantness of having to retain perfect memories of comrades dying gruesomely.
Of course, he had never hung around the hospital long enough to get a proper diagnosis and assessment of his sharingun beyond an understanding that he should keep use to a minimum. The Uchiha had had their own medical centres for sharingan related ailments which he’d been unwelcome in before they had all disappeared along with the clan. Not like knowing meant much in the long run. It wouldn’t stop him from using it. The sharingan was the most powerful weapon at his disposal. Better to overuse it and suffer hypothetical future consequences then underuse it and watch his allies die.
“…and there is no cure for this?” he asks to cover his bases because he wasn’t the only shinobi with a dojutsu that messed with brain activity and maybe this strange world had something useful to bring back.
“Unfortunately, research into ocular quirks is still in its infancy. However, these sort of maladaptive characteristics aren’t uncommon in third generation quirks. An unfortunate result of a quirk mutating quicker than the body can handle or an individual inheriting a quirk from their parents but not developing the accompanying physical mutations necessary for that quirk to function properly. For now, your memory loss has been diagnosed as an Externally Triggered Quirk Incompatibility Event resulting in detriment or damage to the quirk user. ETQI Events are quite common in individuals with high stress quirks.”
The way Wada waits again for Kakashi to respond is more evidence towards his growing suspicion that Wada was beginning to doubt that his memory loss was as extensive as he had been implying.
This time Kakashi doesn’t answer because his attention is pulled away to focus on unusual movement above the city.
A large bat-like creature flashes across the now dark sky, diving in between the buildings. Since arriving in this world Kakashi has seen serval types of loud flying vehicle hovering or passing over the city. Enough to have grown use to the sight and sound of them passing overhead. Nothing this large and organic and this creature was definitely organic.
“Kakashi? Are you…. What in the world?”
In amongst the buildings there is a breif flash of orange light, and a trail of smoke can be seen raising upward. Despite it being mostly obscured by the tall structures, Kakashi knows an explosion when he sees one.
Wada stands abruptly, “Oh my…that’s the city centre,” he pushes around his desk so he can stand next to Kakashi.
There is another flash of light and the creature shoots back into the air above the buildings. Wada startles at the sight. So large flying creatures aren’t a normal occurrence for Hosu. Good to know.
“-Announcement; all staff refer to personal devises. Event level 2.-” can be heard through Wada’s office door, the announcement coming in from the hallway’s intercom. Wada is immediately distracted searching his pockets.
“A Level 2? In Hosu?” Wada questions, staring at the screened devise – phone, Kakashi mentally corrects- he frees from his pocket, reading through something. Emergency orders from the hospital.
Kakashi notes the alert as he flips up the soft medical eyepatch and pulls off the bandage-tape covering his sharingun so he can better track the creature’s trajectory across the darkened skyline. The fact that Wada isn’t yelling at Kakashi about his sharingun use tells him that a Level 2 is serious business.
The creature’s flight is sporadic, like it has sustained an injury to one of its wings and trying to escape whatever caused it. The creature is also on a collision course with one of those highspeed trains Kakashi had noted earlier.
“-Announcement; all staff refer to personal devises. Event level 2.-”
Kakashi watches, his sharingun catching the moment the creature rams into a train in perfect detail even at the considerable distance. The side-carriage buckles inward and the train is flung partially off its rails, momentum abruptly slowing.
He can’t hear collision at this distance, but Kakashi thinks the hospital building tremors ever so slightly. Whether the tremor is from the train crash or another explosion closer in the city he can’t tell.
At this point Wada has stopped staring at his phone and is following Kakashi’s line of focus. The man inhales sharply in alarm, rushing forward to press against the window.
“That’s the main line!”
‘-Announcement; all staff refer to personal devises. Event level 2.-’
Cautiously, Kakashi stands from his wheelchair to follow, approaching and eyeing the train and then the city. He can pick out four smoke trails wafting up from among the buildings but nothing is close to the hospital. Yet. In a citywide attack a hospital is a logical target.
The flying creature falls away from the smashed-up side-carriage like it has been blown backward by a powerful shockwave. It flounders in the sky for a second, disoriented, raising higher then dropping into uncoordinated wonky dive. Of course, the dive puts it in line with the hospital, his eye allows him to make the calculations automatically, tracking the trajectory.
It is on a collision course with the section of building Kakashi is currently occupying. If the creature didn’t slow or turn, its impact with the building would probably take out a portion of the upper floors, including Wada’s office.
A little chakra enhancement and Kakashi kicks the glass from the window in front of him. It was best not to retreat into the hospital as he doesn’t know if the building’s structure was sound enough to withstand the collision. It was a safer bet to escape outside where he would have more room to manoeuvre.
The window shatters, glassing spraying out and falling onto the pavement that ran the perimeter of the hospital.
“Holly S…. “Wada begins to exclaim and is interrupted when Kakashi snags the doctor by the arm and throws the man over his shoulder, winding him in his haste. He then turns and in one sweeping motion swipes his recovery plan and phone off Wada’s desk, crouching fit through the window frame, and jumps, dropping straight down.
There is the loud crunch and screech of metal and glass twisting up above him as the creature rams the side of the building. Kakashi lands and darts further along the path and away to avoid falling brick and glass.
Around him the civilians, who had been distracted staring at the explosions and smoke rising from further in the city, turn at the noise created by the impact. Then there is a lot of panicked yelling as people scatter in all directions.
“Back away! Move away from the wall! Please stay back from the road!” Two uniformed policemen come jogging towards the crash site, unsuccessfully attempting to re-direct the streams of fleeing people. It’s a lot of uncoordinated chaos as people spill out onto the roads around the hospital and get in the way of oncoming vehicles which subsequently crash into one another.
It is all very chaotic up until a short grey-haired man in a yellow onesie drops to the pavement few meters from where Kakashi had initially landed, right under the flying creature. Yellow-onesie-man turns to order the policemen to keep civilians back before propelling himself up the building in long leaps worthy of any respectable shinobi, kicking out and knocking the creature off the building, manoeuvring around several uncoordinated retaliatory attacks. A ‘pro-Hero,’ Kakashi decides, tracking yellow-onesie-man’s quick decisive strikes and dodges. He had noted that Heroes tended dress bright and flashy to attach as much attention as possible.
It obviously works as, around him, the civilians who had previously been fleeing in blind adrenalin fuelled fear seam to calm, focusing on yellow-onesie-man and his efforts to redirect the creature away from the hospital.
Kakashi watches the fight long enough to confirm that it was not headed in his direction. Relatively certain he is not about to be suddenly attacked or rammed into by the panicking crowd he loosens his grip on Wada, bending to let the man down. Kakashi slouches, attention split between his immediate surroundings and tracking the fight as it moved out onto the road.
“Offices,” Wada, who had been uncharacteristically silent, exclaims. He stumbles back and plonks down onto the pavement, landing on his ass, “Those are the third and fourth floor are offices,” The man is staring up at the damaged upper floors of the hospital. “It’s afterhours…there won’t have been anyone working…I should have been the only one in this late,” he mutters.
Kakashi habitually scans the structure. The damage isn’t bad all things considered. There is a lot of broken windows and a significant hole on the fourth floor, but it is shallow, only penetrating a few meters into the building, meaning the flying beast had attempted to pull up at the last second, lessoning the impact. Probably hadn’t managed to smash through any of the supporting walls so they wouldn’t have to worry about the building immediately collapsing. The third floor has broken windows and damage to the outer wall which wasn’t dangerous unless you were standing right next to the glass at impact.
“Hmm, probably no casualties…the rooms on the fourth floor are empty. Aside from us,” Kakashi confirms. He had stalked the doctor enough to know when there were and weren’t people in the rooms surrounding his office. The air also lacked that strong stench of blood that so often accompanied a person being crushed by rubble. Even the stink of this people-filled city wouldn’t have been able to block that out.
Wada blinks up at him. “How did you get us down here so fast?”
“I believe I jumped.”
“… how in the world does a memory quirk let you land a four-story drop on a leg that is still injured?”
Kakashi gives a bland smile, scratching his chin thoughtfully, “You know what, I don’t know. Must be an ETQI Event, you did say it affected memory.” He holds up his recovery plan for emphasis.
Wada’s response to that is silent, open-mouthed disbelief.
“I should have retired last year and followed my sons advise. I’m getting too old for this,” the doctor finally mutters, rubbing his eyes, hand shaking ever so slightly. He lets out a long breath.
“You’re not injured, are you?” Kakashi asks, reminding himself that Wada is a civilian without chakra and thus doubly susceptible to injury.
Wada makes a show of checking himself over, “No. I suppose I’m not. Aside from the heart attack.”
“Isn’t that good news.”
“Oh yes, wonderful news,” Wada huffs, “Always good news when my patient who shouldn’t be walking jumps out a window to save my life.”
Kakashi hums, watching the man struggle to stand. All shaky. Adrenaline would do that if you weren’t used to it.
He bends and grabs a hold of the doctor’s shirt to pull him to his feet, holding him still for a second until he was sure Wada could support his own weight. Aside from looking a little windswept the man is no worse for wear.
Once standing, Wada finally takes proper stock of his surroundings, “Well, isn’t this terrible.”
By now the Hero has drawn the flying creature down the road and far enough away from the building that a number of the hospital staff are rushing out to inspect the damage. Several alarms are sounding in the building at varying levels of shrillness, there is the loud crunch of metal hitting metal as the Hero’s fight knocked into hastily abandoned vehicles, and behind it all people are yelling instructions and questions at each other.
“I’m going assist with any evacuating or patient care where I can. You need to follow the directions of hospital staff and get yourself settled somewhere safe. We can discuss all this later,” the doctor orders as his shakiness dies down.
“Hmm.”
Kakashi flicks open his recovery plan, sharingan stamping the information into his brain. He would devote some time to considering it later. Now that the cat’s out of the bag he doesn’t need to worry about maintaining a façade in front of Wada. Quickly, he flips through the booklet. The whole process takes barely a minuet.
“Thank you, but I think I’ll be off,” Kakashi says simply, handing his recovery plan back to Wada, “you were right about the waste of paper.”
Kakashi pulls the eye patch back over his eye, turning away from the hospital. “I’ll keep this though,” he holds up the phone.
As he begins to wonder away, Wada splutters, “Wait. Where are you going?”
“Mah,” he waves a hand lazily without turning, “I’m going to find my memories. I’ve lost them on the road of life and I need to retrace my steps.”
In some ways he is glad to have had this opportunity to save Wada’s life. It meant he could walk away without feeling indebted. It was also the push he needed to finally make a decision on what he wanted to do with three years of prospective down time. Explore this world a little. Gather intel without having to worry about hospital staff and other civilians getting in the way. Watch everything from afar for a while before trying to seriously integrate in with the locals. Find somewhere secure to get a proper night’s sleep and to properly start experimenting with his chakra and other potential ways home. Idly, he scans the road full of stopped cars and scattered civilians, picking a direction that would take him adjacent to the Hero’s fight. This would be a good opportunity to observe Heroes and see quirks used in proper combat.
“You’re not even dressed properly?” Wada calls after him.
“My first stop.” Of course, he would need to acquire a set of cloths that weren’t a hospital gown, pyjama pants, and flimsy slippers.
“Hold on a second,” Wada hurries around to stand in front of him, forcing him to stop. Kakashi arcs a brow at the forwardness.
“Whatever trouble you were in before now doesn’t matter. I don’t care enough about the memories you may or may not have or your quirk. I’m too old to worry about all that stuff these days. You’re young enough to deserve options. Think about it. A sensible job and a place to live. Sure, it’s not exciting, and it all gets a bit dreary every now and then but it’s a far cry better than bleeding out in an ally after being stabbed in the chest.”
Kakashi eyes the man not bothering with a smile. He lets his stare stay bland, face expressionless in that way that would have any sensible person dropping the topic of conversation.
Wada keeps talking, “I’ve seen plenty Villains find their place in society and make honest men of themselves. Not exactly easy but it is doable…with help. Help the hospital can give you.”
Ah…this man was like Naruto in a way… he’s concocted some backstory for Kakashi that likened him to this word’s version of missing-nin and is now attempting to reintegrate him whatever passed for a hidden village here. He is still parcelling out the details on how everything fit together in this world but he thinks he has this analogy somewhat correct.
“That wouldn’t quite work for me,” Kakashi loosens, slipping around Wada fast enough that the man stumbles, hopping up onto the roof of a crashed vehicle so he can jump between them and more easily cross the road.
“Bye bye.”
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EMPLOYEE ID 2469-0789-4; 𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅.
𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐞 35+ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 gregarious, energetic, devious. 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 open
PROFILE.
An inspiration to us all, [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅] has never turned back in fear of the unknown. A mainstay in the frontlines since the start of their career in MTF [REDACTED], they have braved SCP after SCP and have always managed to return alive, cheery and vivacious. Though they’ve been given internal awards and numerous commendations for their bravery, [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅] has refused to rest on their laurels, preferring to carry on serving as a first-responder. Their reason is a testament to their virtue, as they say they solemnly feel for their lost brethren and will not leave the frontlines in honor of them. However, there are colleagues who have responded to the accolades [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅] has proudly added to their portfolio with surprise and dismay, insisting that this operative should not have survived, as no one is “that lucky.” Accusations flew of unfair allocation of resources, convenient relocations, and unusual adjustments to their duties. Detractors claimed these undocumented perks served to insulate [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅] from under-performance, mishaps, and the same hazards their fellows faced. However, to the Foundation’s understanding and thorough internal review, anyone who has been on the field with [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅] claims they have seen the team’s hero fighting with them, side-by-side. To our knowledge, [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅] has responded to these allegations with grace and kindness, insisting that these comments stem from misplaced hurt and grief for the fallen. A close confidante and fan of [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅], who wishes to be anonymous, has stated the popular operative is merely resourceful, a talented networker, and a devoted employee, therefore an easy target for jealousy. With this recommendation, the Committee is certain that their service with the Broken Scales of Themis will provide a staging ground for [𝐼𝑉𝑂𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑂𝑊𝐸𝑅] to demonstrate their true worth, once and for all. — Internal Memo from the Ethics Committee.
LAST ASSIGNMENT.
UTP; recommendations include a frontline Tactical Response Officer or Containment Specialist from MTF Xi-5 “Newton's Bullies”, Beta-7 “Maz Hatters”, Lambda-5 “White Rabbits”, Lambda-12 “Pest Control”, Mu-13 “Ghostbusters”, and Phi-2 “Clever Girls”.
INTERRELATIONS OF NOTE.
𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅. Your new Commander has quite the impressive CV so you expected someone distinguished but, in person, you find yourself a little… underwhelmed. A leader should be someone who can galvanize the masses and motivates their comrades to push forward, no matter what — and unfortunately, you can’t say 𝑆𝑀𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 is an inspirational figure. Perhaps their long tenure as the Committee’s favorite has blunted their edge and therefore, that of the Broken Scales — an edge you could hone. It’s not that you’re angling to undermine them, no, you’ve never been interested in a leadership position — but if the other members of MTF Chi-00 feel like they have to turn to you for guidance, who are you to turn them away?
𝐸𝐿𝐸𝑉𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝑀𝑈𝑆𝐼𝐶. You’re sure to keep yourself in tip-top form and acing every medical exam; your body is a temple! However, the team medic seems to be peering at your files a little closer than most. Which SCP was it, again, that gave you that rather debonair scar? Well, as a fellow high achiever — please, you can practically see the Ivies growing off of them — they should understand that, sometimes, it’s hard to keep track of your many glowing achievements.
𝑈𝑅𝐵𝐴𝑁 𝑀𝑌𝑇𝐻. So wide-eyed! So dazzled! By you, clearly, how sweet. You’re glad to answer all their questions, even the ones they haven’t thought to ask yet. Why mine the old, outdated guard for insight — you’re here now, and you’ll set them straight. Just wait for 𝑈𝑅𝐵𝐴𝑁 𝑀𝑌𝑇𝐻 and their fellow newbies to see you in action in the field. While there’s no danger of any of them outshining you, it’ll be amusing finding out what they’re made of. Some of them might even be useful.
𝐶𝑂𝑁𝑁𝐸𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑈𝑇𝑃. — Propose a connection between your character and any of our taken or open skeletons!
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