Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

Some Things Are Meant

Wings, hearts

Some things are meant to be torn apart

Faith, hope

Some things are meant to be gone broke

***

"I understand the inconvenience, but as I am currently in New York, attending any form of gathering within the next five hours will be incredibly difficult."

"They refused to reschedule. I tried to-"

"I am not a slave to my investors. If they want to go to a meeting where I am not present, I will not stop them. Show them to a boardroom. Let them wait."

"That's not going to go over-"

"I cannot drop everything merely because Mrs. Budare mixed up her calend-"

"She said you approved-"

"Do not interrupts me."

"Sorry, sir."

Ferrall extends the silence, determined to make him stew in his mistake. "...I will speak to her about her error when I have the time. I am paid for progress and I will not halt it for new blood."

"Of course, sir."

He readjusts the phone balanced by his shoulder into his hand. "When I have finished with this meeting, I will have Mrs. Budare send you more appropriate hours. Preferably when I am actually in the same country."

"They seemed quite upset. I'm concerned they might pull out of the deal."

"They won't." Ferrall sees the door open from the corner of his eyes. "Offer them the chance to reschedule once they calm down. They are attempting to assure dominance, but they will not want to miss out on this opportunity. Do not oversell it. Let them come to you. Capisci?"

"Capisco."

"Brilliant." Ferrall adjusts the fabric over his hands, flexing experimentally. "Then I will leave business in your capable hands. ArrivederLa."

He hangs up before setting his phone on the table next to him, slipping the hazmat mask over his head. He studies the huffy rabbit through the mirror, evidently unable to catch a break.

"What do you need?"

"I want to talk about specimen Raphael," Karl watches as he picks up his tools, making his way over to the metal door. Ferrall pauses, irritation in his tone, "I believe we already discussed the matter."

"Then I want to reopen discussions."

"One moment."

He turns the handle and shuts the door behind him, making sure it's sealed before opening the second one only a few feet ahead. He's greeted with a room bathed in only a faint light, barely enough to see the steps directly in front of him. He removes the flashlight from the pack and makes his way to the center of the room, ignoring the flitting shapes around him. He stops by the table and begins unpacking the needed tools as he waits for one of them to get brave-

There we are.

He is splattered in the face with a dose of yellow particles. He blinks instinctively as his hands come up to snatch his assailant, listening to the startled screech of what one could mistake as an out-of-water jelly fish. Its roots squirm and flail as he lays it on the table and lifts the surgical blade that he manufactured with specific purpose.