But as she sat on a window sill in a club room, she knew that the situation had gotten screwed up. Factors she had misjudged had twisted things so that Ukyo was fighting the idea that she was a pokegirl, and the school administration was only going to allow her to stay if she was one. Unfortunately, her conversation with the principal had created the initial misunderstanding, and started things until it came to this point.
What she needed was a way to convince others that Ukyo was a pokegirl, in a way that wouldn't be questioned. There were plenty of possibilities, but many of them would be likely to cause more problems than they'd solve. With the others being aware of how much more powerful the brunette was in regard to other girls, and things like the pokeballs, they should have an easier time of it. Maybe if they could get something that would work on the human girl that would make a show of her 'being a pokegirl' then they would be able to have it settled enough to let it rest.
A slow smile spread across her lips as an idea came to her and she stretched up to a standing position as she began to consider what the concept she had just come up with would entail.
At one time, the room had been an office that would have looked in place in any company headquarters. Neat and stylish desks were settled in each room, with expensive flooring everywhere one would have looked. Broad windows had let in plenty of light, and gave one a great view of what was beyond that glass.
Well, even now there was a lot of brightness and scenery from the rooms, but the glass was now shards on the floor. The desks were broken shells of their former selves and the stained and burned walls were riddled with holes. Debris littered the carpeting, and there wasn't a door that was still firm on all of their hinges. A slight stink still filled the air, catching anyone with a working nose with the knowledge that something bad had happened there.
Polished shoes stepped onto the pieces of glass, crunching them underfoot, with the woman wearing them walking slowly into the center of what had once been the manager's office. Taking a moment to look around at the formerly pristine room, she sighed heavily before bending her long legs to crouch down to the floor. Gently reaching out with one long fingered hand, she picked up a piece of glass and watched the light reflect off of it.
"Inspector Burns? Inspector Burns?" called out a voice from the doorway.
Angelica Burns didn't even get up from her crouch as she turned her head and pursed her lips at the young man standing there. "Yes? What is it?"
"The technicians wanted you to know that they managed to make a copy of the video of the attack. It turns out that the damage to the recorders didn't totally destroy the system, at least enough to allow the basic functions to work."
"That's good. But that won't help the folks that had been working here."
"Ah, right. It was... bad in here wasn't it?" the officer replied, and winced as he gazed at the room. "Kind of weird to think that a bunch of young girls did all this."
"A 'bunch of well armed and trained young girls did all this."
"True...."
"Go and make sure that they make a copy of the video for me personally, would you?" she asked as she straightened up to a standing position.
"Of course, ma'am."
"Madam Marciano," Angelica murmured to herself, as she remembered what she'd seen one of those girls mouth as they caused mayhem in the office, while:
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(Posted Mon, 21 Sep 2009 08:01)
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