Chapter Text
In a day's work, there are many things Maxie has come to loathe.
Managing spreadsheets, organizing and categorizing case studies, directing subordinates--he finds that, once given the position of lead researcher, one actually does less research than ever. Even now, as he's preparing to begin his shift, a particularly demanding set of clinical trials he did not conduct stands before him, awaiting submission.
His loathing is no driving force, though. At Devon, research that benefits humanity is only conceptual in most departments; Maxie knows he's playing his part, and he knows he's doing so competently, but it still stands that several others could fill the position he's holding just fine--some of his more competent subordinates come to mind.
All the while, there are strides to be made that Maxie feels only he is willing to put into place.
For one, the expansion of the earth's landmass. If there is anything his experience has convinced him of, it's that very little is impossible to achieve; whether it be through Pokémon or other recent developments, the right research will lead to the right outcomes.
Yet, each time he stands before the company's president, a stack of documents in hand and a sense of desperation written on his face, he is almost always denied the right to an audience. "There aren't enough resources to delegate to this," he's told one day. "It's a nigh impossible task," he's told on another. If Maxie is lucky, any blatant excuses are skipped altogether, and he's swiftly denied funding as always.
No matter, he thinks. He no longer needs the assistance, anyway.
There's absurdity to be found in what he's doing--or, more accurately, what he's been doing--by day, he's working standard shifts at the Hoenn region's largest corporation. By night, he's sitting in a near-empty hideout he's spent two years preparing with Devon's own technology, directing the few subordinates he's found to do what little can be done. When he's not working, he's falling asleep at his own desk.
Maxie has himself convinced, however, that all of that changes today. All that stands between him and leaving his more insignificant work behind is convincing a few of his confidants to tag along.
He sets a stack of documents aside and directs his focus to his computer. Then, right on cue, a cup of coffee swoops down before him.
"Morning."
"Good morning, Emil. You have my thanks, as always."
It's the same face he sees every morning. Tired (yet content) eyes, and messy, black hair that never grows past neck length, all accompanied by that same half-assed smile he tends to wear when he comes to deliver Maxie's coffee.
Then, of course, there's the coffee itself. Bitter, yet subtly sweet--all seems to be in order. Maxie still isn't sure what compels him to do it, but never has there been an occasion where its gone unappreciated.
After all, he's going to need all of the coffee he can get to push through this day.
"I'm guessing you got sent yesterday's workload."
"Indeed... it is a shame reviewing it is the full extent of my involvement," Maxie replies as he sips at his coffee, "I take it things went smoothly?"
Emil places his hand on the desk. "Yeah. No problems here."
"Good. You know what you're in charge of today, do you not?"
"Yeah."
"That simplifies things."
Emil nods. "I'll leave you to it, then. See you at lun--"
"Just a moment."
Given the length of their typical early morning conversations, Maxie's sudden interjection catches Emil off guard. He pauses for a moment, then leans back in.
"Yeah?"
"If it's alright with you, I'd like to speak with you after work today."
More unexpected turns--Maxie calmly folds his hands on the desk. Knowing this is one of the many times he'll be required to do this today makes it menial by any sort of comparison.
"Sure. Hope I'm not fired."
"Of course not. I'm in no position to dictate that, am I?"
Emil gives a light exhale, then steps back. "I guess not."
"Be seeing you, then."
One down, several others to go. In a field where competence is valued above all else, it's not as though Maxie is actively placing his bets on numbers. It is, after all, generally regarded as suspicious when mass-resignations occur in actively guarded workplaces. Government protected corporations are no exception to the rule. Thus, his job is to approach a select few he's deemed trustworthy and attempt to recruit them--no more, no less.
While his hands glide across a keyboard, and most of his conscious mind is focused on the effects of ACh agonists on mood in Rattatas, he's rerunning his calculations. Of the three people he plans to speak with, none of them have any identifiable reason to decline--if he's to put it to percentages, he estimates he's got about a ninety percent chance of total success today.
Even so, he wonders if it's good enough.
His line of work has taught him well that near-guarantees are not always successes. Conversely, near-guarantees can result in disastrous failures--there's hardly room to consider it now, as his intentions aren't outright antagonistic, but Maxie has processes to streamline and goals to achieve. Humanity isn't getting any closer to progressing when everyone is sitting idly by. To him, that is a crime of the highest degree.
The clock moves, the work gets done--then, around eleven, a woman he knows as Courtney steps in. For the third time this week, she's wearing her favorite black sweater dress under her dress-code mandated lab coat, and her lanyard is about as poorly fastened around her neck as ever.
"I have... the paperwork, Boss Maxie."
She steps forward, hands him a sizable stack of papers, then turns to leave. Only, just as with earlier, she's called to stay.
"Is it alright if we speak later? There's a matter I'd like to discuss with you."
"Of course..."
Two down, one to go. This is only half the work; the more arduous task lies within explaining to each of them that he wants to quit his job to pursue a project he's had concepts of plans of for years.
Four hours pass, and Maxie nearly drifts off thinking about it. To say he's been losing sleep over the whole ordeal is no understatement; the passage of time only seems to fuel his impatience, and he's been getting particularly desperate to make progress as of late.
Yet, any effort he makes to stay awake only seems to fail. He's slumped over against his chair, head tilted sideways, glasses making a valiant effort to stay situated on his face--the world around him seems to get lighter as it slowly fades out, if only marginally.
That is, until the sound of obnoxious snapping brings him to his senses.
"Boss Maxie!"
He slowly tilts his head up, then straightens his glasses. "Yes, Tabitha?"
"Lovic and I need another assignment. Has the president given us anything else?"
It's not unlike either of them to finish so quickly. Tabitha is typically batting for another promotion. Emil seems to do it for the hell of it. At any rate, Maxie feels he needs them both.
"Not that I'm aware of. Perhaps you should assist Courtney until we're finished for the day."
"You're right," Tabitha replies as he scratches his chin, "It is her day in the rotation, isn't it?"
"Correct. I'm sure she'd appreciate your cooperation."
There is, on most occasions, far less interesting science than exciting science. Often times, you're stuck lining out paperwork, securing resources for bigger projects, or even cleaning up after all the mess everyone else seems to make--Emil usually volunteers for all of the menial tasks, but given that Maxie feels he should be doing far more than what he likens himself to, the three of them rotate throughout the week. It just so happens to be Courtney's day.
"Well, then! I'm off to work."
In the same fashion as earlier, Maxie ushers for him to stay. "Actually..."
"Yes, Boss Maxie?"
"There is something I'd like to discuss with you later, if you're up for it."
Oddly enough, Tabitha looks ecstatic. "Of course! I'll see you then."
Still wearing the shit-eating grin that formed on his face mere seconds ago, he strides out of Maxie's office. Maxie can only assume he believes talks of a promotion are on the table. Unfortunately for Tabitha, that is far off the mark.
Maxie, satisfied that the first step of today's plans have been set into motion, rests his head against the back of his desk chair and tilts his head up towards the ceiling. Sleeping on company time-- especially in his high position--would normally constitute an infraction of some sort, but seeing as this is likely his last day, it's no longer of any concern to him.
The room's warmth settles in, the disgustingly bright ceiling lights he's come to despise slowly dim, and he's out within minutes. All the while, his monitor displays the message he's just received from the president himself--"I appreciate your work, as always. Please distribute these case files to your subordinates tomorrow," it tells him. Chances are, that won't come to pass.
Eventually, the warmth carries over. Before long, he's sitting at a desk he's built himself. Before him are documents pertaining to projects only he knows of; member recruitment strategies, papers outlining hours of research, and other notes are scattered about, waiting to be categorized. For once, as he takes a stack of papers in his hands and looks down, he feels ecstatic.
He skims through the sheet at the top of the stack. "Team Magma's Formation Plans," it reads.
Maxie finds the name to be suitable. Given that they're working with the world's landmass, it stands to enough reason. He quickly drops the papers into a folder, then places them in one of the desk drawers beneath him.
Next comes categorizing the research. Research those around him insisted wasn't feasible, research those above him refused to entertain, research that directly conflicted with those close to him years back, research only he seems to understand--it's all in his hands now. No longer will he be denied the right to do the world some favors, he tells himself.
As far as he's concerned, there's only one unsolved problem: how he's to put all of his findings to practice. Though relying on his subordinates isn't his preference, he's desperate enough to try.
He goes to drop more papers into their appropriate locations. Then, a familiar voice rings throughout the room.
"Hey."
His eyes frantically dart around the room--nothing, no one. He looks above, beneath, left, right--despite finding little, it's not long before he hears it again.
"Hey, Maxie."
Against his will, he feels his head tilt--then, the ceiling lights in his office become visible once more, and Maxie gains a semblance of clarity. He stretches, then sighs.
"Apologies, Emil... I take it your shift is over?"
"Yeah," he replies as he leans back and rests his hands against the desk. "You wanted to see me, right?"
"Right, yes..."
"Mhm... sorry for interrupting your nap."
"There's no need to worry about it. I shouldn't be doing such things to begin with."
"You should get some better sleep tonight," Emil tells him, though the bags under his own eyes tell a similar story.
"I will."
It's not long before Courtney and Tabitha show up as well. Tabitha shuts the door behind him, and the three of them exchange confused glances--anything beyond simple one-on-one talks was clearly out of the scope of their expectations.
"Now... seeing as you three are among my most valued subordinates, there's a matter I'd like to discuss with you all."
Emil is still leaning against the desk. Courtney is staring ahead intently. Tabitha simply smiles.
"What is it... Boss Maxie?"
"It is rather unexpected... but I will be resigning from my position here to pursue different endeavors."
This seems to grab everyone's attention--the three of them are equally baffled.
"Yeah? What'll you be doing, then?"
Maxie sighs--this is going to be a tedious conversation, it seems. "There is research I want to complete that I've been denied the proper resources for... Thus, I've called you all here to ask for your cooperation--"
He's swiftly interrupted by Tabitha. "You want us to resign?"
A terrible start. Nothing outwardly seems to implicate it, but Maxie is, of course, unnerved--the scenario he spent hours deliberating on and preparing for is going against his expectations. He's hardly even had the opportunity to explain what he's leaving for to begin with.
"Only if you are willing to do so. If you're interested, we can discuss the details soon."
Silence. Emil takes his hands off the desk in front of him. Courtney looks down at the ground, then over at Tabitha, who's staring at Maxie in bewilderment. The four of them have worked alongside one another for as long as half of them can remember. Breaking things off now without any prior warning seems almost inconceivable.
Maxie's own confidence stemmed from that perceived closeness--one of the photos on his own desk was taken of the four of them following a major breakthrough the group contributed to. As far as he was concerned, there'd be few issues getting them to tag along.
Yet, the next words he hears seem to disprove the notion entirely.
"Sorry... Maxie..."
Courtney reluctantly steps forward. She's clutching at her lanyard, eyes glued to the floor, expression laced with a hint of despair.
"I... decline."
Maxie leans forward. What composure he was maintaining is slowly turning to agitation--how could he have failed such a simple task? Once again, he finds himself running the numbers; among the three of them, he'd assumed Courtney was the most likely to agree to his proposition, followed by Emil. The conversation at hand, however, gives him little time to consider it in full.
"Might I ask why?"
"I don't... want to split," Courtney replies, "I... like working here. With all of you..."
"Hm... I was hoping that, if we all reached a proper consensus--"
Once again, Maxie is interrupted by Tabitha.
"I... can't just quit either, Boss Maxie! I worked really, really hard to end up where I am now, you know!"
Maxie suppresses every urge to cup his face with his hands. What was initially a minor failure has suddenly turned catastrophic--if this is Tabitha's stance, no consensus can truly be reached. If anything, he assumes he'll try to claim his position as lead researcher the very second he resigns, however inconsequential to him it may be.
He sighs. "I suppose I understand... I won't hold it against you if you're against this as well, Emil."
He's crunched the numbers yet again--now, he fully expects Emil won't offer up any help, either. If he's to put it to percentages, his odds of failure are about ninety percent.
Yet, even now, the rules of probability still seem to apply--any scenario that is not a guarantee should not be forcefully speculated upon.
"Shit... we're in a bind of sorts, but I'm not exactly against it, myself..."
His raspy voice finally cuts through the silence, and, for once, Maxie sighs a sigh of relief. "I appreciate it, Emil. We'll discuss later on."
Tabitha practically bounds forward. He clutches at the desk and alternates between glaring at Emil and Maxie--of all the things to happen on what he was convinced is a standard work day, two resignations and a halfway split catastrophically defies all expectations.
"You're seriously leaving? Both of you?"
"He's got things he wants to do for himself... I don't see the problem with that," Emil replies.
"That really, really doesn't account for your own job!"
"I'd say it does... I'm going with him, aren't I?"
Silence follows the lack of a proper refutation. Tension is thick, palpable--one could cut through it with a knife in the same fashion you'd cut through a piece of finely layered cake. Maxie feels as though he has little time to entertain it; after all, enough brooding over the day's failures combined with the distinct lack of sleep he's running on is sure to lead to disaster.
"I apologize for springing this on the three of you so suddenly... If you're to change your minds, simply contact me."
Maxie slowly raises up from the chair he's been glued to for hours. A yawn escapes him as he reaches for the coffee mug he set aside ages ago--perhaps more caffeine is in order.
It takes considerable effort to ignore the stares he's receiving as he moves. Courtney's looking at him, eyes wide, shock blatant in how she carries herself--Emil's simply looking on idly, as if waiting for Maxie's next move. Regardless, he makes his way towards the door.
"I must take my leave. If you could come with me, Emil..."
"Yeah... I'm behind you."
Several doors close as the two of them walk out. He's just slammed the door on the job he's worked for years, which is generally followed by an arduous resignation process. He's just shut the door on the allegiances he held with two of his subordinates, though no ill feelings toward either of them are involved.
However, somewhere else, a door has just opened. What it contains, what it leads to, what successes and what failures lie behind it--all of it is for Maxie to decide.
"We'll be having this discussion elsewhere, if that's alright... I'll send you the location."
"Sure, yeah. I've got all day."
"As do I."
"Provided you don't fall asleep..."
"Watch it."