Chapter Text
Everything was on the line.
That is, if Quinn walked in there blind. He knew it would be stupid if he did, given what he knew about Lawbots. They were precise, sharp. Easy to notice if any singular detail was off by a hair— they had to be on the lookout, after all. To them, practicing the law (or at least, part of it) was all the same when being on high alert for any intruders. Bloodsuckers could sniff Quinn out, if not for him taking precautionary measures.
Did it take, say, maybe a few weeks to gather all of the parts? Yes. Did it involve fighting a few certain annoying Suits multiple times? Also yes. Overall though, it would be worth it.
It should be, given how much of a pain in the ass it'd been to acquire everything. The courtyard wasn't exactly a challenge, with scattered Lawbots trudging about their respective paths, it wasn't hard to run past them before they had a chance to pull him into battle. He hadn't the biggest clue where Joel might be, but he always took too long to clock out.
Just this once, he wanted to visit him— see how he's doing! They had quite the nasty fight a few weeks ago, and he worried that he went too far in trying to ‘stick to his objective’. Of course a spat every now and again wasn’t too horrible, but he thought he’d truly done it this time.
He hadn’t seen that stupid old Cog in ages! Had he been compromised, turned to scrap? Quinn shuddered at the thought of that. That would be a devastating discovery, especially when he had no way of contacting him outside of mail. Even then, there were a lot of roadblocks he had to take to send one letter– for Flippy’s sake, he didn’t even know if any of his letters were received because Joel never responded!
But as he was beginning to fume, the doors echoed shut behind him. He hurriedly donned his disguise, lucky to have had no eyes on him at that moment. It was a shabby looking, not-so-put together version of a Bottom Feeder, but it was better than nothing. He knew better than to take his time, so he started to move.
Shambling his way past the reception desk, Quinn clumsily climbed into the empty elevator, simply letting the doors shut and take him up– or down. He could hear the quiet hum of elevator music, one he'd gotten used to tuning out by now. While he hadn't really explored the building, he did know the familiar rumble of movement.
The doors slid open, and he stepped out– taking a good look around. It was quite bleak. Dull colors painted the walls, the smell of smog in the air despite being indoors. If it weren’t for the Suit, he would have started to gag from all of the pollution. He could hear the noise of gears turning, clearly the sound of work. Suits were walking in line, some looking his way.
Quinn knew if he idled for longer than a second, someone would start to suspect. Yet, he was unsure where to go, this was new territory. He even fought the C.L.O as a safety measure to make sure his disguise wouldn't fall apart at a Suit’s breath, but he didn't stray from the given path. He didn't think Lowden would bother to infiltrate Lawbot HQ like this, since there’d be no reward coming out of this reckless act. It would have been better for him to wait for Joel to come out for a break, but it would be a wait too long.
As he managed to sidle behind a random line of Bottom Feeders, he marched forward– attempting to find any clue on where Joel’s cubicle could be. Double Talkers tend to flock towards other Suits, same with Backstabbers, both who specialize in socializing to gain the upperhand. He listened to the senseless chatter as he continued to march, keeping his eyes forward to ensure his head stayed in place.
“Psst. Hey, you wanna hear something interesting?” A Backstabber whispered as he walked past, a flicker of disappointment crossing its (or is it his?) features when he didn’t respond. “Oh alright, be that way you lowlife.”
Quinn felt like sinking into the Suit, embarrassed he couldn’t muster up even a sentence to give back to the Suit. In his panic, he didn't notice the line had diverged and had scattered— bumping hard into some Suit.
He yelped, but what came out of his Suit was clanking as he moved back. His day couldn't get any worse, could it? In his perspective, he could only see the Suit's torso, his face obscured by the height difference. He guessed the Cog had to be furious, especially with that obvious oil stain on the front of his tux.
“Ugh, are you kidding me?”
Out of all Cogs, it had to be him that he ran into. Quinn attempted to straighten his back, but nothing changed of his posture on the outside. “I apologize, er..” He drew a blank at what to say next and trailed off, stuck standing there like an idiot. “.. Mr. Double Talker, sir.”
“You better be.” Joel stepped back, dabbing a cloth at the wet spot. “I'd ought to charge you for the cleaning bill, this suit is worth more than your paycheck.” He seemed irritated, more than usual.
Nothing was out of place– at least, with how little Quinn could make out through the tiny slits of the head. His bowtie was perfect, his buttons held together– that familiar handkerchief now stained black. Pristine, like he always was.
“Mr. Talker,” The feline tried, his voice coming out weaker than intended. “May we speak privately?” He gestured to the side, as if there would be a door next to him to open. “I promise, it will be quick.” If the urge in his voice was audible, surely Joel would notice.
Silence followed. A beat passed, then two. All he could hear was the sound of his own heart pounding against his chest, and the clanking of Suits. He held his breath, straining his ears to make sure he would catch even the briefest hint of a sigh.
“Fine.” The response was clear as day, yet Quinn could have sworn he heard disappointment in his tone. “We can go to my office.” Without another word, he turned on his heel– causing the other to act swiftly to match his walking pace.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the tight hallway, leaving little room for both to walk side by side– so the Toon fell back and trailed behind. The once littered path that had posters and warnings stuck to its walls eventually led to a quieter space. The colors stayed the same, but it was devoid of any mess.
A goon skittered by, it had one of those bright working helmets that made even his eyes ache. Its body held close to the ground, with only two legs working together to keep itself up– gears dotted the sides of it, with each turn signaling a successful move.
The sound of a card being swiped sent him reeling out of his thoughts, as he stood there in the middle of Joel’s office. He was safe, at least, just for a moment. He hadn’t truly thought of what his next move was, caught up in his excitement to visit and converse with the Suit during his working hours.
The disguise was lifted off his head before he opened his mouth, the sight of his friend greeting him as he adjusted his eyes to the harsh white light. His cheeks reddened from underneath his orange fur, clearly startled.
“What the hell are you doing here?”