A LITTLE BIT OF SUGAR BUT LOTS OF POISON TOO
A curious thing emerged; an all but regal wave of the hand and a leisurely movement of the feet caused a semi-widespread explosion of hacking and sneezing to ensue; any respective dust particle poured out from every available crevice, every possible opening and assembled obediently beside a woman that stood tall, dressed in nothing but an old tee-shirt and navy-blue gym shorts. She wasn’t against wearing a uniform, but when it came to cleaning --- well. Then came a silence that did not go unappreciated; that very same woman from before suddenly combusted in a wave of psychedelic colors, carrying with her all of the facility’s collective dust as she busted through the halls like the accident love-child of a bag of dirt and a fat flying rainbow.
All her magical efforts were directed towards the grand entrance. Nothing took up her concentration quite so much like sliding through the thinnest of openings, just compacting her already powdery frame for something like that was difficult enough. The speed of the flight was faster than her ability to predict the right time to ‘squeeze in’ as she crashed violently into the door with a resounding ‘thud’.
Looking rather like a bird having been downright fooled by a polished window, fragments of herself were scattered about in a massive sandy heap. “If you fall,”
groaned the pathetic mass in a flat tone, evidently in a lot of pain, “I’ll be there, said the almighty floor.”
Ugh-ing, nearly unable to move, as she looked to the door she smacked into once before. Her blue eyes, tinged with a bit of green, reluctantly drank in the mess around her; she sighed and opened it up the old-fashioned way. Not expecting two perfectly new faces for the integration process, she appeared disfigured as she wasn’t entirely her solid human self. The door remained parted, the entrance in terrible disarray. These two had been waiting since goodness knows how long for one thing: to be swept away by a positive, straight-laced, and inspiring authority figure -- be it her seniors. That just wasn’t in the book of newly self-demoted Janitor Vera-Jayne Walden.
Before she could excuse herself, the large dust mound watched as the narrator personified annoyed a young, sensible woman on the way here. “It was then,”
she began dramatically, “Vera-Jayne Walden, head of cleaning services, saw two starry-eyed dreamers flying on the wings of a pretty, pretty dream. It made her actually want to believe in this bleak, cruel, and desolate little world. No dust particle left behind. How precious!”
With that being said, the dust mage quickly cleared her mess and cast it out into the open air. Not in their general direction, of course, as she was considerate enough not to put them through a coughing fit on their possible first day. Appearing more and more like herself, she smiled visibly. “Tony. Britney. Hi, hello, good morning. I’ll be your guide for today. So,”
she said, not unkindly but still entirely not at all interested in knowing too much about their lives, “tell me a little about yourselves.”
Vera-Jayne tuned in as the girl delivered her own dose of reality: "Nope. Mom told us." As she thought about that, the violette found it strange how siblings would join such a faction together and not expect to lose each other. It wasn’t anything new, but it always seemed like a bittersweet deal. Not wanting to think like that anymore, she forced a tiny laugh. “I’m getting a whole life story. What did I do to deserve such an honor?”
half-joked the inexperienced general, keeping things light and playful as she proceeded to give a very on-the-surface tour.