Bailey sighs and presses into the executive's office with a small tray of cookies. She closes her eyes and passes the tray atop a countertop aside the main workspace, which is empty save for a couple knives out of their shelves. She creaks the door open to the bedroom, and she says, "I've seen your email, and I've seen the nurse's evaluation. You're not the first person I've worked for that became stressed, although I think you might have had the worst reaction—no offense, please, Miss Stirling. You're still handling things well. And your staff will manage... Ms. Mica in the retail department sent you chocolate cookies if you wish, they're by the fridge."
Chocolate cookies do sound very appealing currently. Ms. Mica... Something about the name unlocks good brain chemicals in Ashley's head. She supposes that said Ms. Mica is just a very likeable and good person then. "Do send her my thanks, and thank you too for bringing them. I do trust in the staff to do well without me for now. I kind of have to, after all. But Excalibur certainly makes good things and it's been a group effort." They don't take any offense, considering the situation is indeed much worse than Bailey would know or ever understand. "Considering I've already called off all my attendance, I do suppose I should take a trip outside. Get some fresh air, and some motion. The last thing I'd want to do is waste away in my room. I'll have a cookie first, of course." Ashley stands up and stretches, having already spent a bit too long in bed again... She has a slight itch building. Taking time off as a CEO seems to be more difficult than one would suppose.
"She'll be delighted to know. And, yes, Excalibur is many moving, carefully collaborating components and an industry giant." Miss Madrigal steps back from the door and then leans against the wall. "Well, Executive, wouldn't that pretty much be a conflict of interest with Nurse Emily's recommendations? I agree that you should not simply be in your bed the whole time; however, I think it's sometimes stressful, actually, to show your face in this city. Should we reserve a private flight to somewhere a little farther instead? Consider it an insisted company retreat?" Her gaze glides up to the ceiling LED, and she kicks her heel up on her other shoe. "Anyway, please, have as many cookies as you need. You're fond of them... I'm thinking an island, though."
"I already have a personal meeting scheduled tomorrow so I can't exactly travel far away. You do raise a point, but fresh air does still appeal much to me. I'll simply keep to myself and ignore the weirder ones. If things go less than preferred I'll be back sooner." She stands and evaluates her outfit. It's very smart and business-y, maybe a bit too much for a casual outing. They have no idea what manner of replacements would be in the closet, but it'd be worth a look- God, taking a trip to an island appeals more than it should, truly. But she can't do that to poor Nole, and barring more thorough flashbacks to her alternate past she wouldn't learn much just resting among any palm trees.
"We could go to an island some other time. I don't want to lose too much familiarity with my surroundings in this state, either." She does finally approach the cookies, sitting down in their office chair and carefully savoring the chocolatey flavor. Mmm.
Bailey laughs. "Excuse me, then. The 'personal meeting' hopefully will not have anything to do with Excalibur, then, and perhaps we'll see how you feel about getting out of this place after the meeting. Enjoy yourself, CEO." She takes a tall, glass bottle of water from the fridge and pours some of it into a sleek cup, and she takes the glass to Miss Stirling's desk, shadowing their shoulder. "Well, you know what I think: the city is drab. But if you want to see the same old places on your dedicated hours off, I will tend to the rest of the office, I think. I've left you some water." She saunters away, smiling from sight. Resting her hand on the door knob to the office. "Please, if there's anything else you need, especially this week, message or call. I'll go see Ms. Mica."
Ashley takes the cup, and a long swig of the liquid. It's good. "You're good to me, Bailey. Thank you for all your hard work, I certainly feel much more confident in a time with less engagement with you to cover me. I'll try to not be too brought down by this drab little town then, as I saunter about." Miss Stirling politely waves off their assistant, and returns to the other room with a half-eaten cookie.
A rummage through the clothes storage does reveal, tucked away to the side in an almost undignified manner, some outfitting that while still smart and expensive is slightly too casual to wear at a company meeting. She'd noted a big pair of sunglasses too in her office desk, and would surely like to take those too. It's a fairly bright day and masking her confused stares should do well for any unexpected media presence. They don't know what to expect in this alternate timeline of their own home city, but with a stylish purse carrying all their personal odds and ends they are ready to find out.
Actually, she has one more cookie first, and wipes off her lips with a fine towel. Ashley simply doesn't think much as she leaves the building, letting habit guide her steps rather than having to follow the signs in her own establishment.
Executive Stirling wanders a few minutes of corridors and stands in an elevator to leave the premises. Office spaces like Excalibur's are perhaps designed for people to stay inside rather than to leave, an ecosystem of services shared between floors or even rooms.
Outside the building, occasional glances come Ashley's way outside the Excalibur skyscraper. A couple young adults even point their phone cameras toward her. No incident comes of it, however. The stores and restaurants orthogonal to Excalibur Skyscraper are different from Ashley's original timeline—a pet store is missing, there's three cafés instead of one, and a jewelry store is branded with turquoise rather than amethyst. Excalibur itself occupies the lot of what was a promising start-up, a world-famous chef's restaurant, and a building named after its real estate business owner. Perhaps Mania found him tame.
The attention was to be expected, but it is still discomforting nonetheless. Ashley puts on her best expressionless face to not start any media stirs. Taking in the so awkwardly half-familiar city is a rather eerie experience - Doubly half-familiar, even; in her deeper heart she recognizes the things that are missing in this alternate dimension of sorts, but also there's a more surface level tang of familiarity towards things she truly has never seen before. At least not in her now so out of place former memories.
Ashley recalls eyeing up the Amethyst pieces on occasion; they were quite fond of the color purple after all. Now that they have the finances to actually afford those, even trivially? They're gone. A fleeting thought passes that they should commission some of the pieces they liked the best from memory... But once again, the idea of having such excessive finances manages to make them uncomfortable. Knowing that taking in too much alternate scenery in one swoop will leave them dazed, Ashley sits down on a bench and takes a pause.
She doesn't even realize she's on her phone and checking company mails only moments later, until she sighs and puts it away again.
Ashley's social media presence on her device otherwise is rather limited, anyway. This phone is a device for calling and emails rather than a device for mindless scrolling. A new memory serves that at least four people in Excalibur voice the company fulltime, including Ms. Ashley Stirling themself, on a few popular websites. They leave the bench and explore further away from the uncanny block.
They happen across an upper echelon clothing franchise from even before they signed the contract with Mania. Human-like stands just inside the glass adorn various outfits ranging from prim, gray suits to regal, purple dresses draping to the floor. Ashley, of course, omits the wider range of bright hues in the selection. And the idea to instead commission amethyst jewelry to match such a purple outfit, to match her fresher tastes, crosses their mind. The desire to spend is only secondary to the desire to earn for a CEO.
Okay, fine. Ashley takes their phone out and snaps a picture of one of the more appealing pieces on display. She hastily scribbles a few notes onto the picture, an innate sense of design and style blossoming slightly as they do. The shopkeep gives a soft, wary look that's replaced with shy excitement at Ms. Stirling's pleased smile. Even at this high class establishment, winning the favor of someone so impactful and getting to dress them for some manner of event would be exclusively valuable. Truth is, Ashley doesn't even know what it'd be for yet, but finds the idea of looking so strikingly expensive, of all things, to tickle senses she's been hoping to suppress.
As a notification of some manner pops across their photo, they connect the dots on their social media presence - Surely, it'd be insightful to read over posts they themself have made recently, to capture some understanding in how this CEO Stirling may be. Even if the results are displeasing, it'll at least help them play the part to some degree if needed. Sigh. The idea of maybe having to be supposedly herself but in a worse way is not exciting.
Ms. Stirling finds herself in an especially familiar area of downtown—a corner store with discounted produce and ready-to-eat meals. Their old grocery store. While in the area, they might as well make sure everything else is still around. So, they follow the littered streets to their old apartment complex. The other stores here are unremarkable as well, quaint and inexpensive affairs. Ashley's new and old sensibilities conflict when remembering visiting these. For instance, she was enthralled by her medium haircut at the Velvet Salon. However, the hairstyle devolved to mediocrity without the expensive hair products needed to maintain its fresh sheen. But Ashley couldn't necessarily blame herself. She was just a victim to circumstance, right? Or, perhaps, Ashley should have done their research if they really intended to escape the shackles of their place in the world.
The apartment complex looks identical. Her window on the third floor of the building, however, has a blue light coming through the blinds. Someone else probably lives there now.
Ashley sighs. Taking a walk outside has been refreshing, she can't deny this. But with each step through the city, the odd conflict of divergent timelines and youth nostalgia raises so many more questions and their mind had started swirling an ever growing mess of thoughts on the matter. Maybe on a good day, she would have paid the apartment a visit and seen who the replacements tenants are. Or not - As a CEO, that manner of public stir surely would cause more hassle than needed. Ashley reminds herself, she has a very important reputation and she's not like commoners.
They think that last word with more emphasis than they intended to, and feel a little unwell. She's adapting quickly. Too quickly. If she ever gets her hands on Mania again... It probably would be simpler if Mania did not show her face again, but anger boils inside Ms. Stirling now and getting to vent that would bring at least some comfort. Not ready to have a mood swing in public, they start pacing back towards the office. She politely shrugs off all efforts to approach her on the company grounds, and vanishes into her suite. The weight of her upper-class wear sets in, and Ashley strips back down to expensive underwear before laying herself across her bed. With some amounts of restlessness being quelled by the walk outside, the sheets are more comfortable than this morning.
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An elevator, drenched in red, arrives at Excalibur Incorporated's highest floor before roof level. A familiar demoness emerges into the dark hallway. The company never sleeps, however some floors, such as Ashley Stirling's office floor, are nearly vacant during the grim graveyard shift. So, she wears nothing short of golden and red lingerie—even opting to remain a demon in appearance—and she bangs on the CEO's door. She smiles, sifting through her items in her black purse, and she steps aside from the door's peephole. Really, Ms. Stirling could think about hiring someone to set up a video feed out of her office for her eyes.
She bangs the door again.
Even while dampened from passing through the office into her apartment, the knocking sound cuts right through to Ms. Stirling's sleeping mind. Ashley would have slept through it, but a CEO knows that a missed opportunity is a wasted opportunity. And anyone who knocks on her office door at these hours either has severe news to share or is looking for a new job come daylight.
Ashley fights off her lingering sleep and instinctively slips into a nightgown that does a very good job of making her decent. They're halfway through dialing front desk for a coffee when they decide to check what actually is the matter first. Ms. Stirling, displeased by the empty hall in view, grumbles and thinks about hiring someone to set up a video feed. That doesn't help right now though. Always a wary one, she takes the switch knife out of her office drawer and keeps it behind her as she opens the door. She has no room to present slow and hesitant, making it a decisive action. They call before even looking, "It's the middle of the night. What is it?"
Mania strolls over to the wall opposite of Stirling, then, pressing her finger against the corner of her lip. She's having a great time, clearly, even with just studying the shock on her face.
"Hey, Executive Stirling. Have you been relishing your new employment? It's an excellent fit for your character. You were so delightfully fun to do business with. And now you hardly need me. Your little bootstrap startup grew big so fast. You worked hard for this from the beginning." She laughs. "No, you didn't do shit. But I've given you that taste of freedom and power you wanted in this career landscape. But I'm not just here to discuss our work. Let me inside."
The only thing preventing Mania from having to fend off an angry swipe with the knife is Ms. Stirling's knack for professionalism at any hour of the day. They're trembling, and fighting for some words to say.
"You. You... You. Fff..." She takes a deep, stiff breath. "...Fine. Get in. Close the door. The longer you're out here the more likely someone will see your disgusting, improper, presentation." There's a clear dishonesty in her attempt at distaste though, and Ashley's a little flushed though it could easily pass off as seething anger. She drops down into her designer office chair, and motions to the opposite seat with the tip of the knife. "Give me one good reason me and this knife should stay on our side of the table."
"What, you're calling your original investor disgusting and improper?"
She smirks, and she slips inside after Ashley. She sits at the chair and folds her legs over one another. And she slips a business card on the nearest desk surface. She rubs the tip of one of her demon horns between two fingers.
"I'm interested in working with you again. After all, I'm sure you're already far from content with all of your earthly possessions and power. But it'll not be a contract. It'll just be some conversations, some private meddling, and some steamy intimacy. Besides, aren't you even the slightest bit curious as to who I truly am? How I've given you this opportunity?"
"I need a coffee. But if I call my night shift intern for one, I'd need there to not be a demon in my office when it arrives." Ashley sighs internally. Something about that wording felt wrong.
She very deliberately shrugs off the mentions of intimacy, clicking her switch knife open and closed. She has half a mind to stab the business card, but remembers that her tabletop is worth a middle class monthly salary. "I suppose that some proper answers would be a good enough reason. For now. I figured out you're a huge bitch by myself, but other than that? What is your deal."
"It's not such a big deal for a wealthy elite like you to be seen interacting with me. If anything, you're just joining the exclusive club at the top of society I'm a member of too. And your team should know that you're this evil anyway. Call your intern."
She shifts into her human disguise anyway. No, she didn't need her red skin and demon tail to radiate an aura of sinister power. She takes a champagne bottle from her purse, the same champagne they had last time, and shakes it from the neck. The cork is much looser.
"No need to waste good alcohol. You can keep this—anyway, I'm Mania, the CEO of Hell. I provide opportunities unlike any damn other since the demons of fate granted me this impressive ability of magical contracts that can even warp the world itself if I so need. But, I stick to a theme and standards. So, I hope that explains everything. Your fate here is sealed. What do you think?"
Ashley observes the much less suspicious-looking and still intimidating woman in front of her. Somehow, this form pisses her even more off, as it's the one that she fell for... Trying to quantify the time since then falls hard. On the one hand, it was only a day ago; on the other hand, it was in a whole other reality. They press a pair of buttons on the phone on the desk, and it beeps. Twice. A voice tries to speak but is cut off.
"I need a coffee in my office, asap. Something came up." She presses the button again, and a beep silences whoever is on the other side. "I think you're fucking insane. I will admit I have no reason not to believe you. But if you think I want... wanted this, you're wrong. It's growing on me, but I know that's your doing."
Miss Stirling takes the business card and spins it in their fingers. She wants to try her options to bargain but can't find imagine anything to offer, to use as leverage. This Mania is a threat, and all their newfound status and wealth can't compare to her. Yet.
More soon.