Chapter Text
Parker MacMillan walks into his office and sees that someone else is sitting in his chair.
"Um," he says, and then, when that doesn't feel sufficient, "What?"
"your chair isn't very comfortable," the person in his chair says, glancing up. They're wearing a hood that hides part of their face in shadow, but Parker can make out an eye and a blur of white...hair, maybe?
"How did you get in here?" Parker says. There's a very small gate at the end of his office--surely no one can get past that. (He can't get past it. He's tried.)
"i'm reader," the Reader says, leaning forward across Parker's desk, knocking five of his Important Papers off it, extending their hand for a handshake, and not answering his question at all. "they/them."
"What are you doing here?" Parker says, not shaking their hand.
Reader looks faintly disappointed. "you need to start thinking of better questions. i'm sure you could figure that one out if you thought about it. also, you should tell me your name. i know it, obviously, but it'd be polite."
"I'm Parker," Parker says, crossing his arms and trying to look intimidating. "And you haven't answered my question."
"because you can answer it yourself," Reader says. "come on, think a bit. you'll get it."
Parker tries to glare at them, but Reader doesn't seem intimidated. They pick up a snowglobe (which is almost entirely filled with a blaseball) and inspect it curiously.
"Reader," Parker says. They have a certain energy that's not entirely material, a weird kind of...not a player, definitely not a player. "The Tarot Reader?"
"bingo," Reader says, pointing at him.
"But you got fired," Parker says. "Or...something. The Readings have been cancelled."
"you don't just stop existing if you can't do your job," Reader says, spinning the globe in one hand.
"You don't?"
Reader looks at him a bit oddly. "no. at least, i hope not."
Parker isn't sure how he feels about that. "But that doesn't explain why you're here."
Reader sighs and swings themself up to sit on his desk. "okay, here, we'll work together. what did you say about me right after figuring out who i was?"
"Uh...you're fired?"
"yes. the readings have been cancelled because...."
Parker hesitates. Frankly, he didn't know there was a person doing the Readings until a few days ago, when Managment had sent him a memo saying to not interact with the Reader (whoops). He doesn't really know what's going on and the Reader clearly knows that and it's annoying. Okay. Bluff it.
"You just weren't very good at your job," Parker says, adding a little tilt of his head to imply looking down at Reader. It doesn't work very well, mainly because Reader is still radiating that energy of 'I know exactly what I am doing here and am in control of this situation', and also they're busy playing with his pens, so they can't even see that he's looking down at them.
Reader turns around and gives him a look. "uh, no. yikes, she really kept you in the dark on this one, huh?"
"No," Parker says, probably lying. He stomps around his desk, grabbing the coffee out of Reader's reach, and sits down in his chair with a hmph.
"anyway, i was very good at readings," Reader continues, ignoring his blatant display of dissatisfaction. "it was just that the coin didn't like what i was doing with the readings--sending messages and whatnot--so boom! cancellation. and now i'm hiding out here."
Parker folds his hands and tries to draw on all his memories of Management's speeches. "Actually, no, you are not. I am a very busy Commissioner and I don't have time to entertain this nonsense. You are mocking me and, uh, also mocking ILB management. Leave my office immediately, or I will be forced to take measures."
He folds his hands and sits up straight. That should show them.
"can i try?" Reader says, making a grab for his coffee.
"No," Parker says, snatching it away again. "Did you not hear me? Leave!"
"come on," Reader says, hovering slightly above his desk. (Why can't he hover?) "have some worker solidarity, huh? we're both in the same sinking boat of an ilb, might as well play nice."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Parker says. "Leave." It has just hit him that he should not be doing this, that if Reader sticks around there will be consequences, and he doesn't want to have to consider those consequences at all.
"where'm i supposed to go?" Reader says, sounding the closest to distressed that Parker's ever heard them.
"I don't know! Anywhere! Not here!"
"i don't know either!" Reader shouts back. "the coin's sure to check on monitor, and i don't want to get it in trouble, lōotcrates'd turn me in in a heartbeat, ticker is nice but i can't hide with them, and wy--and i don't have anyone else! my only other option is in the immateria!"
Parker is about to snap "Then go there!", but hesitates. What...is immateria, exactly?
Before he has a chance to ask (or, not ask. Try and make it sound like he knows,) there are footsteps outside. Reader jumps, and ducks under his desk. Parker finds himself standing, and has to hastily manuever himself into the chair without kicking Reader. (Wait, no, why'd he do that? He should've kicked Reader. Serve them right.)
It's only an umpire, who says in a metallic voice that makes Parker press his feet into the ground to stop from running, "Good day, Commissioner," and continues on to do...whatever.
Parker slumps back in his chair, still shaking slightly.
Reader bounds out from under the desk, seemingly unphased by that close call. "parker! you didn't turn me in!"
"No," Parker admits. He should have. He really should have. He should have wanted to.
"you know this means you're never getting rid of me," Reader says. They smile at him, bright and happy and a little bit sharp.
"I could still turn you in, you know," Parker says.
"i doubt it," Reader says.
Parker folds his arms and tries to explain his actions to himself.
"You know stuff," he says finally. "I--maybe you can--give me information. Nobody else does."
"oh, nobody explained anything to me when i was new here either," Reader says, shuffling their cards. "lōotcrates was supposed to, but whenever i asked anything they just spouted some bizarre poetry." They roll their eyes. "insufferable."
Parker nods in agreement. Lōotcrates is insufferable. "So what'd you do?"
Reader looks back at him. "found a friend. and decided that i was going to stop waiting for information and start looking for it."
"Hmmm," Parker says. "Yeah. Okay. You can stay."
"i was going to anyway."
Reader pauses.
"but thank you."