"So, what was that other thing you wanted to talk about?"
"She's got a new servant working for her, and just today, too. I don't know a name or face, but I'd keep an eye on the door for when he goes out to run an errand, or something." Roche continued. "Then, sometime before her next fight, you'll get this on his body. It's nothing illegal, or anything, but she's allergic enough to it that she'll swell up like a balloon the moment he comes back in...well, even more of one."
Wait a minute, are they talking about me? Marc scooted forward more along the vent, pressing his eye on the very bottom rung of the vent's airspace.
Roche he could still see, along with only a sliver of whoever she was scheming it up with, but a sliver was all it took. On top of the body of gold standing in front of her, he could make out the pink bangs from none other than Raina, eyes fixed on a bag of something green and leafy that the duck was holding high over her head.
The coyote didn't cease raising an eyebrow as she took the bag for herself, stuffed it into her pocket, and looked back down at Roche, folding her arms. "...and you expect me to get this on him how?"
"I...wh...y...you're asking me that?!" Roche fumed, Raina's subtle enjoyment. "Just...I dunno, do what you always do! Trip on him, brainwash him, turn him into the stuff, for all I care, just...just something discrete, alright?"
"Now, something discrete, I can't guarantee." Raina smirked, further irritating Roche. "Something not reportable, though, would be a better choice of words."
"Just do it soon, and do it far away from me. Capiche!?" Roche seethed, clearly itching to kick the coyote out of her room.
Smirking, Raina rolled her eyes and held out an open paw. "Deal."
But Roche didn't even bother giving her a shake and went straight for the door, opening it wide and pointing down the hall. "We're set then. Bye."
Raina seemed legitimately surprised by Roche's bluntness, but let out a snicker as she saw her way out. Roche slammed the door shut the moment she was gone enough that it wouldn't hit her, still standing with her back against the door as she let out a long, exasperated sigh.
That bitch! Marc fumed, fingers tensing around the vent's rungs as any pity he once felt from Roche's photograph faded away. It almost made him forget the warzone he'd treaded through underneath Sasha just an hour ago, whom he was suddenly eager to see in action and inflict whatever flatulence-related justice she had in her belly on the sickly duck.
But then the anger faded away into a chill of paranoia, imagining having to go up against Raina. Even in the rule-sanctioned world behind the scene for the ASL, Raina was a time bomb of chaos waiting for any chance to pour hair dye into the shampoo of her coworkers, and that's when she wasn't using her powers torment the other wrestlers with whatever kind of sugar-coated madness you'd think would only exist in some nutjob's opium high. The worst of her prank-driven hijinks were her servants, whom she'd stopped calling anything other than "toys" long ago.
...and now, somebody was paying her to do all that.
The chills going down Marc's spine kept him frozen there for a whole minute before snapping out of it, and crawled his way back the entrance he'd made of the vent...
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