Hindsight is 20:20, as they say. But Madeline's vision had never been that great.
Blind-sided by the Supernatural, Madeline finds her carefully structured and idealistic world ripped from under her after a chance encounter in the depths of the fore...
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Scowling across the office, Madeline mumbled obscenities under her breath. After years of testing her proverbial limits, meticulously focusing on every inch of her body, learning to control her features her emotions herself, it had been foiled. One man, an employee at Sanchez Pharmaceuticals, made her slip. A permanent smirk plastered on his weathered face. Orange-Blonde hair slicked back, incessant tapping on his desk. Donald, knew which buttons to press, to quite simply, piss her off.
Managing to drag her eyes from the man she'd coined, Cheeto Devil, her expression of distaste deepened. He'd made what he coined a executive decision, and she was now responsible for filing the entire office's paperwork. The. Entire. Office.
Martina scoffed in her head, 'You have the ability to finish this paperwork with a flick of your wrist Madeline, use it.' Madeline found herself scowling again, despite the logic behind the solution Martina offered, she was annoyed by her tone too. She supposed sitting in an office all day, had the potential to rile anyone up.
Constrained by four-walls - a pretentious sales-man had called 'egg-shell white' -ny human despised it, as a creature who relished in the feeling of the outdoors, it was border-line excruciating.
Sighing, she shook her head. It was a double-edged sword, the extra work. It was the excuse she needed to stay after-hours. Provided she got the paperwork done, she'd be able to access the companies labs.
Labouring over the stacks of paper, Madeline kept one eye fixed firmly on the clock. Stamping, filing and assorting the documentation - that was supposedly too hard for her colleagues - she plastered boredom and resignation across her face as the office slowly emptied. Lights switched off, as everyone shuffled from the office in a singular line. It was almost frightening how automated the process has become, these people wanted to be here less than she did on a day like this.
As the last of her colleagues trickled from the room, Madeline allows her excitement to show. It was palpable, as her magic permeated the air. It seeped from her pores as she directed her attentions back to the stack of paperwork. "Plíris," she muttered towards the paperwork, willing it to completion.
Spinning on her heel, she hurried towards the lab. Unbeknown to Madeline she was being watched, as she had been for weeks now. Silent encouragement of her inquisitive nature, spurred on by the convenient forgetfulness of the lab-tech. As the magic in the air thinned, Madeline swiped her way into the room. Since she'd first started at the company, Madeline had snuck into the lab every few weeks. Only recently, she'd upped the ante. She'd begun accepting the extra work, as an excuse to stay after hours. An excuse, in her own self-interest, of course.
As the door slid open, Madeline was surrounded with the smell of chemicals, and a faint hint of pine.. The entire room, contained technology that was state-of-the-art, and appeared to be brand-new. Coated in stark-white paint, the walls contrasted heavily with the stainless-steel appliances. While the floor - a slate-grey - made the room resemble a hospital room. It wasn't the most inviting of environments, but she supposed that wasn't its function.
