brigadierinwaiting

[brigadierinwaiting]

The Upper Echelons

It was something of an ominous room. 

A long table, dark wood, with the insignia of each echelon burnt into their place. Atop it, various devices, monitors, keypads. Despite its length, the table sat only five, the other chairs pushed to the edge of the room in neat fashion, an edge that gave an impressive view.

The Cabinet gathered at the centre of the City, in a room that watched it from every angle.

Keep reading

[brigadierinwaiting]

01. — first

It was a mandatory part of the training. 

In the military echelons, at least. That was what she reminded herself as she was given the details. There was no pretense about what was to come, no hidden agenda. It was a simple test every one of them went to see if they had the nerve. The drive. The loyalty.Other echelons could make different investments to prove it. Research and Development invested time, Intel invested manpower and details, Infrastructure invested resources, Supply invested plans and strategems.

The room was well lit. Clinically clean, with gleaming white tiles shining under the humming heavy light. In it sat a man at a chair, hands cuffed to the rests, legs secured. A desk in front of him, with a neatly filled report placed just so, and a folder besides.

The Brigadier-to-be sat on the other side, one leg crossed over the other, hands placed neatly in her lap. Sharp eyes met sharp eyes. This one was smart. Too smart.“So are you going to cut to the point, or drag this out longer?” He asked, words low and gravelly. In turn, she picked up the stack of paperwork, licked a finger, and began to thumb through it.“We’re dragging this out then. Alright.” He huffed, hanging his head. “Have to make it worth every second, right?”More silence, as she kept reading, making sure everything was exactly right. He slowly raised his head as she turned the page, with a scrutinising look.

The silence persisted for a good few minutes, and then the Brigadier-to-be nodded, flipping back to the first page.“Reginald Taylor. Thirty two years old, married, one child. Formerly employed in production of robotics parts for ten years in quality assurance…” Her tone raised slightly, and she set the papers down. “Found guilty of sabotage of units, conspiring with insurgents and corruption via bribery.” “And i’d suppose that makes you the executioner” Reginald muttered, gaze scanning across her features.“I am here to ensure that all due process is followed” replied easily, practised, the hands resettling in her lap, grip…tight. He noticed.“Well, I must be a prime example for a first timer to get their hands on me.”

She paused, chin lifting a fraction. “Oh?”“Yeah. It’s all over you. Your hands, your words, your eyes…” He stared straight at her, no fear. She stared back, surprised, but not taken aback.“Really now?” Her hands unclenched. “Colour me impressed.”“Colour me dead either way” came the retort, with a bitter huff. “Here I thought I’d at least get a clean end, but now i’m not so sure.”“You seem convinced your sentence is death.”

A rolling laugh, heavy, defeated. “This room is a slaughterhouse in disguise. I can see the drains on the ground. And the disinfectant, well, that’s a smell that covers worse things, now ain’t it?” A shrug. “I’ve no reason to think otherwise, little miss.” Her eye twitched. “Oh? Now I know you’re more green than that jacket.”“You think you’re a smarter man than you actually are, Mister Taylor” came her response, the words only tinged with bite. “But you’d do best to still your tongue.”“Let the dead man have his last words. Should make your job easier if you’re angry, now won’t it?”“Again, you think your sentence is death.”“Isn’t it? Committed low treason, at the very least, reckon i’d be lucky to get death.”“One could argue there’s worse things than death here, Mister Taylor.”

He gave her a bemused look at that, as her hand scooped the folder up now. “How so?” No answer, the drawn silence again. He struggled against the bonds. “What are you waiting for, little miss, just get your job done.” His wrists turned white with the strain, the buckles biting through skin. “Or is there something i’m missing?”

The Briagdier-to-be waited a few moments longer, before pulling out a photo to inspect it closer. Her eyes drifted from it to him, and back again.“You’ve a beautiful family, Mister Taylor.”“Leave them out of this.” “Your son, Mister Taylor. Seven this year, yes?”“What of it?”“Awfully young to be without a father.”

Reginald kept straining, teeth gritted as she slid the picture across the table. It was a recent shot, from a family meal, taken from a telescreen. “You’d threaten them too? Why? They had nothing to do with it.”She sighed. “And again, you jump to conclusions.”“Oh, forgive me for that when i’m bound in a slaughterhouse and you show me the one damn thing that matters-”“Your ration provisions,” she continued, interrupting him as she pulled out another sheet of paper, “were notedly low for the three of you. Not quite adequate for a growing boy and a working mother, yes?”

He stopped his straining, confused. “…What’s that got to do with it?”“Let me ask you a question, Mister Taylor. You’ve worked dutifully in your position for near ten years before turning traitor. Your record is near spotless, sans some…human error.” A noted slant of her words at that. “But you turned now. Why?”“Your system decided I never gave a damn to begin with.”“I’m not asking what they’ve decided, Mister Taylor.” “…..What kind of Officer are you?” He asked, with a concerned look. She simply smiled, placing the folder down and again resting her hands in her lap, perfectly composed. No words. No reaction otherwise. She didn’t even blink.

The stare lasted uncomfortably long. Eventually, Reginald broke away, bowing his head.“What do you want?”“The court has called for a sentence fitting the crime, but the exact details have been left to my discrecion” she began, calmly. “Certainly, I could simply kill you, but there’s no doubt in my mind this would lead to a slow, and painful, end for your family. Not to mention bereavement for your wife.”“I knew the consequences when I made the choice.”“But you needed to ensure Ford had enough to eat, needed to see Joselyn smile again, correct?”“….Yes.”She smiled wider. “They likely assume you already as good as dead, but what if there was a way to make sure that smile persists.”“You’re…negotiating with me?”“Indeed.”

Reginald looked bemused then, holding back a shake. “….And just what value do I have?”“You were reached by those with close connections to some…unscrupulous sorts. That particular group has been hard to track down, let alone get in contact with.”“..You want names?” “I want an introduction.”“To a Loyalist officer?”“To an interested party.” The words were chosen carefully, and again spoken evenly.

Reginald could clearly not believe what he was hearing. He looked to the photo, to the Loyalist ahead of him, and to the door. Then, back to her.“You can help my family?”“We can ensure higher provisions of rations for them, and a lowered sentence for yourself in exchange for the information.”“..Life?”“For the co-operation, yes. If all goes well, Mister Taylor…” The grin grew toothier, predatory. “I’ve the means to make it go to two years, with work to follow after.”“You’re joking.”“I can’t promise the work will be as comfortable as your old role, of course. There will be a mark against your name. But, better a mark and life, than death for you and two others, hm?”

His mouth hung open, eyes blinking rapidly. “…You’re not new to this, are you?”“I am, in fact.”“Then how the hell do you have that kind of clout?”A small chuckle, and the brigadier-to-be rose from her seat, walking calmly around the table and whispered something into his ear. He went pale as she kept close, uncomfortably close. Then, his shoulders slacked, and he slumped in his chair.

“….Deal.”

The Military and Police echelon were expected to invest their loyalty in blood. The Brigadier-to-be, however, decided to be discerning. No need to shed that of the willing, when the guilty party’s would do with interest.

Every one of them had to deliver the given sentence. This had been her first time in the role, and as the footage was reviewed, none could argue that she had done so with aplomb.In her own way.

[brigadierinwaiting]

17. — audience

So many faces.

A young Brigadier clung to her father’s legs as he spoke to the crowd of Loyalists, soaking in every word but hiding from the prying eyes. She looked more confused than scared, but was certainly reluctant to stand out ahead of all those faces.

Her father kept their words flowing smoothly, only stopping if he needed to move. A brief tap of his foot, and the Brigadier-to-be let go for long enough to amble behind, dutifully keeping to their promise.

In the crowd, her mother watched with a look between pride and disapproval. Her daughter should be as confident as her father in front of them all, she reasoned, but on the other side she was at least following instruction well.

And, for a mercy, they were only five.

The brigadier-to-be did not really understand the words their father was saying. It was some kind of rallying call, some way to inspire them to their work. The mood, she understood. It was tense, and sharp, and yet somehow fuelled a strange fire. Even she, small as she was, felt the awe strike her at every syllable.

Fear, too. Especially as she watched the faces in the crowd.

A cheer rang out, and the father smiled, before turning to the little brigadier with a wide smile to ruffle her hair. She smiled in turn, widening as she lifted her to his shoulder.“And see, my friends, the future we are sowing! A child’s smile so wide at the peace we bring and maintain!” He continued, as she leant against his head. “This is why we strive to maintain the state of this City, to keep them all safe and to ensure control remains in our trustworthy and respected hands.” One of his raised for emphasis, the other holding her safely in place.

The crowd murmured their agreement, and the brigadier-to-be stared back, mouth hanging open for a few moments.

So many faces. And all eyes were on her.

“My child, a question.”“Yes, Father?”“Do you trust these men and women here, to help build a better future for you?” His eyes met hers, and the little child rested her chin on his head, lost in thought. “Hmmmm…” “Well?”Another sweeping look across the crowd, before the grin returned, and she chuckled. “Why not?”“Why not indeed, such a smart little one!” The father proclaimed, and the crowd seemed to agree with aww’s and more agreement. “This..this is the legacy we will leave behind, my friends. That smile, that laugh, and that trust. This is our hope. This is the future…and i’d ask you all continue to help us maintain it.”

Another round of cheers, and the father lowered the child from his shoulders, patting her head. She near enough chirped in happiness, clinging again to the leg, this time with the confidence her mother had wished for.

The mother exhaled, and smirked.

[brigadierinwaiting]

One Word Writing Prompts

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write either a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🌀 for a random number instead.

01. — first 02. — kiss 03. — final 04. — numb 05. — broken 06. — wings 07. — melody 08. — rules 09. — chocolate 10. — nostalgia 11. — heartbeat 12. — stranger 13. — confusion 14. — bitter 15. — afterlife 16. — daybreak 17. — audience 18. — endless 19. — fireworks 20. — wishing 21. — birthday 22. — tomorrow 23. — oppression 24. — agony 25. — return 26. — protection 27. — boxes 28. — hope 29. — preparation 30. — beautiful 31. — lies 32. — underneath 33. — hide 34. — diary 35. — unforeseen 36. — conditional 37. — gone 38. — clear 39. — heartache 40. — wired 41. — insanity 42. — foolish 43. — words 44. — study 45. — love 46. — skies 47. — stars 48. — lucky 49. — shake 50. — punctual

[brigadierinwaiting]

Send 🍳 for a heated debate with my muse

[brigadierinwaiting]

you were a child soldier?

Well, now that is an interesting choice of words. It’s no secret that I was trained from a very young age for this role, that I shan’t deny, but to call me a former child soldier?

Us loyal to Wily are in no way, shape or form the kind to condone such action. Most of us enter the system at sixteen, although some find their way in younger, admittedly. This, though, is due to individual wishes and ambition.

And not a single soul is sent into field duty before they are ready. Certainly, none are sent as children. That, I can assure you of.

[brigadierinwaiting]

♬ - DIRGE

♬ - DIRGE - a habit, hobby, or obsession they can’t seem to shake

“Must you always ask so many questions?” Her mother bemoaned, with a scathing look. “All you need to know is how things work. Not why.”“Why?” She asked back, crossing her arms. “You always want to know why someone’s acted out, don’t you?” “Because I need to investigate such things, you just need to-”“This again?”

Her mother turned around, surprised by the father’s sudden intervention. “I-”“She’s too curious minded to be told off for this, you should know that. Especially at her age” he commented curtly, walking over with hands in his pockets. “Besides, she reminds me of myself at her age-”

“Father!”He walked over to the tiny Brigadier-to-be, a grin across his face as she scampered over, . She returned it, bounding over as he scooped her into his arms. “You’ve such the brain, little one, but you need to listen to your mother some.”“Do I?” asked sweetly, earning a chuckle.“Yes, yes you do. Because she knows how the world works.”“So should I stop asking why?”“Well, no. But consider the other side. Why not?”

The small child blinked at her father, confused. “Why not?” repeated with a tilt.“Why not let things be? Why not have faith in those around you to know what is best?” He flicked her nose, and she gasped, cupping over it. “Like this. Why do I have your nose?” “Why not?” She chimed, and he beamed.“Why not indeed! After all, you trust me to return it, good as new!” He laughed, wiping his thumb against his jacket before pushing it against the young brigadier-to-be’s face. “Better than, even. You should take better care of yourself, young lady.”“I’ll try more!” she giggled, pinching her nose and wiggling it. He ruffled her hair, turning back to the mother. “See? She can be taught.”“Your talents are unending” was the mother’s choice of retort, spoken with warm adoration as he set the little one down.

She bounded back to her, and in turn she crouched down.“Well, let’s try it again. Must you ask so many questions?”“Why not?”A sigh, and the father laughed.

Years had passed. And every time she led anything, she still asked why. Not insistently. Not repeatedly. But much of it now was punctuated with a second question.“Why not?”“They’re traitors, aren’t they? So, why not?”“They’re a threat to the City. Why not?”“He did what he could, so why not?”

Why. And why not.

[brigadierinwaiting]

✿ - DECAY

✿ - DECAY - an old memory, from childhood perhaps

“Who did this?”

The Brigadier-to-be had been on her way to Joker for a casual catch-up, a shared lunch, a few jokes. Something of a ritual for the pair now, for how long they’d known each other. It had been five years now since their unusual meeting, and this had become their norm.

When she’d found him, she’d found someone in hiding, trying to obscure his features, a hand clasped over his face.

She’d pulled it away, inspecting the damage. A bruised eye, and other signs of struggle. She glanced down to his leg, noting the missing brace with a raise of her brows. Her grip tightened as she soaked in every detail, icy eyes staring

“Look, it’s fine,” Joker began, trying to get his hand free, moving to prop up his leg. “I gave them as good as they gave me, trust me. You should have seen the others-”“This isn’t alright, Joker.” Her grip relaxed, hand snapped back to her sides and clenched. Leather creaked, knuckles clicked.“No, listen, it’s-”

His words stopped as her smile fell for the first time in front of him, a dark look taking its place. Her head shook slowly, something in her eyes. Anger did not describe it. Yet, despite this being the first time, it was an awfully familiar expression. The silence stretched, uncomfortably long, and then she spoke with no warmth.

“Give me their names.”

Five write ups. The paperwork was meticulous, expertly done. Noted transgressions, prior violations of protocol let slide now raised against them. The Brigadier-to-be had been thorough with their case, brought up to their commanding officer who was now browsing through.

“All ending with unprovoked assault on a greasemonkey….” He murmured, stroking his chin.“Intel and Military division unified against R&D in an assault that goes against our founding ideology of unity, sir” came her reply, standing firmly at-ease. The smile was still gone, replaced with a worried look. Quite the jarring comparison to her normal jubliation. The Officer eyed her over the papers, before setting them down.

“Yes, it all seems to align with our concerns. We’ll see to it that the proper measures are taken against them.”“If I may make a request, sir?” “…Yes, Lieutenant?”

The smile returned, vicious and hungry.“I’d like to make an example of the ringleader.”

The knife twisted, and Mateus Rhind barely held back a yelp. The Brigadier-to-be had been granted her request, and now she was taking it. He’d been brought in for a spar, beat to the ground and tied down when he folded. She’d found it amusing, he…not quite so much.

The others involved were watching. Behind one way glass, kept in custody. They were pale, shaken by the sight. She paid them no mind. “Was it jealousy, sir?” She asked in sing-song tones, grip tight on the blade.“N-No Ma'am” grunted through gritted teeth, his shoulder staining crimson.“Then, sir, please indulge me…why go after one of your own?” the knife was withdrawn, and a gasp leapt from the injured Mateus’ lungs, wheezing and spluttering. “He…needed reminding…that he’s one of us too…” “Poor excuse, that, but at least you’re speaking honestly.” She put a hand on his shoulder, affirming and kind, pressure put over the wound. “Allow me to do the same. Your career is over.”“What…. are you going to end me, Ma'am?” He asked, bitter as he met her cold icy gaze.“No. No there’s no sense in killing you, sir.” A finger crept under his chin, and she leant in uncomfortably close. “I admire your tenacity to do it. To go after our comrade. My. Comrade. That tenacity has a use.”

The smile stretched out, sickening. Mateus gulped.“We can’t afford to waste such a resource, and you…You still have work to do. So. Let’s find you a better place. Fifth Brigade, riot squad. How’s that suit you?”“T-that’s a suicide detail..”“Quite fitting for men who charge innocents with accusations, hmm?”“I’d rather get it d-done with now, ma'am.”“Ah, yes I suppose you would” she mused, with a “Tsk. Funny, that. Too bad the choice isn’t yours.”

She stood up, wiping the blood from her knife against his leg and sheathing it again, marching to the door. As she walked through, two guards snapped to attention.“Get him patched up, and begin the transfer. Let the others know we do not suffer internal conflict. We are not animals. We discuss issues, not beat each other in the halls. Understood?”“Yes Ma'am!”

[brigadierinwaiting]

⚖ - SCALES

⚖ - SCALES - how well they balance their good and bad impulses

“I’ve ample experience in keeping the few bad impulses that rise from being an issue. Unlike many, I am...not tempted by vice. Not in the same way as I have witnessed, in any case. Still, I find having a healthy outlet does wonders for helping with such issues, and I have found plenty over the years.”

The Brigadier lies. Or, doesn’t realise her issues. She is good at balancing them publicly, but behind the scenes she has plenty of impulses she fully indulges with. The biggest issue is that many of them have been encouraged through the system she has grown into,  so she hardly sees them as bad. 

If she weren’t a loyalist, she’d be seen as a highly impulsive and violent individual, and likely a downright threat.

[brigadierinwaiting]

Flashback!

“Eyes up, solider.”Her hands kept her from falling to the floor, head snapped upwards from the slouch. The little Brigadier-to-be was exhausted, drained from the exercises at hand. 

Today was another of the many spent in learning close quarters combat. She’d been in training for many months now, the small twelve year old tuning her body for the duties to come. She was a few years off active duty, but considering her position...

Well, her parents had considered it prudent to give her a head start.To begin, it had not gone so well. Gunmanship had come quickly to the little protege, tactics and precision easy on their frame. Lining a shot was something she found herself quite skilled at, and quite used to receiving praise for.

This was a whole other world, however. Perhaps it was her age that made her less suited to the brawl, but hand-to-hand was a factor she was struggling with, and she hated that. She had to be good at this. Had to be good at everything. There was no choice. She could not let them all down, when so much was on her.

“I’m not going easy on you, Soldier. Up on your feet, another round.” The teacher was not willing to let up on them, his arms crossed and matched with the scowl across his features. She grit her teeth into a forced smile, pushing herself back up and taking a few moments to grow steady. 

“Just a second” she wheezed, wincing. A nasty bruise was already growing over her eye, and her ribs ached from the last impact.“There won’t be a second out on the streets!” he barked back, charging in. Instinct kicked in, a duck just in time to dodge the crashing fist. She bolted about him, footwork sharp to jam her elbow into the small of their back. An impressed huff, but the move lacked the impact to illicit much else.

“She can be taught!” exclaimed as he took two steps forward, turning to face the little girl staring daggers in return. “First time you’ve actually-”His words were cut short as she charged, fists raised into a heavier blow to his chest. He reacted in turn, his own brought out to block the blow, but shock came as she leapfrogged up it, mustering everything to strike him right in his chin.A small cough came from him as it met its mark, a slight recoil. Surprise, more than anything. His eyes widened, and a sinister grin stretched out. “Get a drink, and walk a lap. Then, back at it. Understood, Soldier?”The little Brigadier-in-waiting slowly drew back their hand, that smile of her own undeterred as she dropped to the ground, breath heavy and hand filled with pain. A quick shake from the wrist, an inspection. More ugly bruises. She wondered if anything had broken, but decided not to squander the moment of brevity with such trivial concerns.

A weapon could be fixed, and she needed to be a weapon.

[brigadierinwaiting]

jokerdotexe:

At the news, Joker did indeed down the rest of his drink. A new faction? One that had subverted their security with no loss of life? He frowned. That was… interesting. The Lyons were known for their brutality. They didn’t care about who got in the way, as long as their goals were accomplished.

Sure it sounded familiar, but at least the Loyalists could claim that it was in the name of safety, security. The Lyons were just… terrorists. 

He shook his head when she spoke again. “Yes, I do. Instead of wasting times on fool’s errands, I decided to focus more on what could actually be improved. Some of my more important mechanics are working on the older Snipers. They know how ridiculous it is, but they’re happy I trust them with something so important.”

“Top men indeed” she quipped in turn, hand curling to sit neatly under her chin as she slowly turned to the screen in question, curious. As she read, the other moved to prop her elbow, a small tilt followed by another nod.

“That’s why I like you, Joker. Always keen to get to the actual issues at hand” spoken warmly, before moving to refill his glass.

“Send over the estimates to me for costs some time before the meeting, hm? We’ll go for the hearts and minds approach on one side, internal morale and the like. After all, with this Kilroy running around it’s likely that the Lyons will feel themselves impeded upon, which may make them more…rowdy.”

A glint in her eye as she swung them back to lock with his. “We can’t afford low energy at a time like this, now can we?”

Behind Enemy Lines

[brigadierinwaiting]

jokerdotexe:

“That would be appreciated,” he said, raising his glass in her direction. “There’s a lot we could improve without having to stick to an outdated system.”

When she mentioned the budget, he looked at her over the brim of his glasses. “If you could do that, there would be a lot of improvements we could roll out. Updated Sniper systems, improved suits for your lot…” his glasses flashed as he looked to a computer screen and the various schematics on it. 

His attention was snapped back to her when she spoke. “Wait. No one died?” He put his glass down in surprise. “I understood that the speech was far different from what they used to do but….” Joker ran a hand through his hair. “Who would rebel but… not join with the Lyons?”

A hum of agreement escaped the Brigadier as she finished her drink, the glass struck down a tad too enthusiastically against the counter, a soft sigh following. "Not a single death. One suffered burns from the explosion, but they're undergoing treatment as we speak. I plan to pay them a visit later, actually" she continued, setting aside the glass to let one hand sit neatly in her lap, the other raised in dramatic flair.

"But, back to the point. We both know the Lyons are brutalistic. Certainly, they are some kind of banner to raise to, but those British turncoats are quick to slash themselves for insubordination. Which means a new faction on the rise is far from impossible."

That smile returned again, bright and perfect as ever. "So. Budget increase is our next agenda, yes? It sounds as though you've already got most the planning sorted."

Behind Enemy Lines

[brigadierinwaiting]

Send in “Flashback” for a scenario of my muse’s past.

[brigadierinwaiting]

Reblog if I'm allowed to send you in character asks even if we have never talked before.

[brigadierinwaiting]

Monstrous Headcanons:

Because we can’t all just put brains in jars to see how they tick.

♦ - HOARD - something that is precious to them ✿ - DECAY - an old memory, from childhood perhaps ⚔ - DUEL - a meeting or relationship that was important to them ♥ - STAKED - a jarring event, something that changed their life/outlook ∇ - TOMBSTONE - who they are versus who they appear to be ☼ - DAYSTAR - a secret they don’t want coming to light ☂ - THUNDERSTORM - a difficult or miserable time in their life ⚖ - SCALES - how well they balance their good and bad impulses ϟ - LIGHTNING - something they thought they’d left in the past, returned ☢ - BIOHAZARD - the most dangerous thing about them to others ♬ - DIRGE - a habit, hobby, or obsession they can’t seem to shake ■ - LAIR - where they live, work, or spend most of their time ☠ - DEATH - the closest it’s come to touching their life

Ask on-anon or off!

[brigadierinwaiting]

What relation is Joker to you?

A good friend and comrade in arms.

We’ve endured much together, for the pursuit of order and justice in this fair City, and i’ve always been proud to know the man.

Like me, he strove for his position, and he is the finest person for the role of head of Research and Development imaginable. You should see the wonders he weaves with steel and code.

As that division's head, he and I liase frequently to discuss improvements to security protocols, equipment concerns and developments, as well as the matter of implementation of the MASTER class robotics.

Plus, I always know I can truly speak my mind with such a sharp-minded individual. It’s why I like to share a drink with him. Helps us both unwind from our burdens.

Work and play are kept firmly seperate, however. Of course.

[brigadierinwaiting]

How did you get your rank?

Hard work, and perseverance.

I have never once been given preferential treatment on the matter of promotions, no matter what some may insist. Everything I have earned...

She smiled, a hand flourishing towards the scars on her face.

Has been well paid for in blood and sweat.