Chapter Text
Adler has been trying to think of something to get Ulrich for his birthday for a while now.
He may not know whether Ulrich even celebrated it (likely not), but that didn’t stop him from spending the last month of his life with ramping anxiety in the back of his mind as the date got ever closer. And yet he still has nothing!
He lets his head lie on his desk and get marks all over the papers on it, thinking about how screwed he was rather than actually thinking of a solution.
The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know Ulrich. No, he knew the things he liked and disliked; the stuff he thought about all the time. He just wasn’t sure whether Ulrich would be the kind of person to take a gift and scrutinise it on a 400x magnification and draw preposterous conclusions from it, or not give a single shit about what it actually was and just wanted to know whether you’d bother. His gut told him both. Somehow. And he didn’t want to risk anything.
He was so unbelievably distraught over it that he even asked other people for advice; a literal last resort.
Although she may not know Ulrich that well, he asked Marcus first. You know, she was there, convenient, but most importantly she wouldn’t immediately start mocking him.
“U-uhm…” she says, scratching her cheek, “I’m not too sure. Maybe- maybe something he can think about. Like a- a book? On, something he’s interested in!”
Well, that made sense. Ulrich read all sorts of weird ass texts so even if he got him a fairy tale story for three year-olds he’d probably still read it. “What do you suggest?”
“How about… you could also consider writing something yourself. Like- uh, a poem?”
He grimaces. “A poem?” He imagines himself reciting a poem for Ulrich. If it was serious, he’d go black and white and sketchy before disintegrating into an abstract meaningless concept and ceasing to exist. If it was a joke Ulrich would slap him or something.
“I-I think as long as you made it, it shows that you care.” she says shyly.
The thought of it sends shivers down his spine. Why would he show care explicitly? If Ulrich can’t figure it out himself then he’s stupid and they should all just take back this nightmarish reality.
Adler frowns. Maybe an astrological atlas would be good.
Marcus nods rapidly. “I guess it can be anything, really. As long as it’s genuine.” She then brightens up, “You could write a story! Something entertaining or with a lot of subtext that makes the reader think! Or, uh, maybe you could write a story with the two of you like- the, uh- like the o-one he…did… haha…”
Her passion proceeds to dry up to leave pure horror. She looks off to the side while Adler pretends to receive an important email, making up a task for her so she can leave him to die of embarrassment in his office, blissfully alone.
So he considered that option for about three days then shoved it onto the shelf of possibilities. He needed to consider every option, no matter how seemingly impossible to imagine himself getting/doing, even if it meant having to venture out further and ask people who would no doubt start to leverage the information to torture him.
Another opportunity came in the form of a chance meeting outside. It was one of the rare occurrences where Adler left the Laplace Headquarters to just walk around and clear his head of the never-ending tasks and paperwork he needed to do. It was made even rarer by the fact that Ulrich hadn’t forced his way into joining because his department had managed to corrupt the Critter Language Database and were frantically trying to recover it. You could say it was another reason adding to the necessity of getting the fuck away from it all.
Anyway, while milling about the neatly trimmed walkways, he stumbled across 37 walking about in loops on the tiled courtyard, counting… something.
He stops and watches her for a second. She was surely on the bottom of the list of people he should be worried about telling, right? Always occupied with a theory and not really interacting with the main perpetrators of his bullying, 37 was a safe option to ask. And he supposes that Ulrich and 37 share some similarities. They both liked… numbers. Well, he also liked numbers, but they liked them comparatively more than he does. And they both are weird so that’s good enough.
“37, good afternoon.”
She jumps up, her extremely sparkly and sincere eyes both somehow boring into his soul and seeing right past him. “Oh, Mr Enigma! What are you doing here?”
“Just taking a walk. Are you… counting something?”
“I’m looking at the pattern of tiles in the courtyard.” she says joyously, “It’s very consistent so far.”
“Interesting.”
“Mhm!”
“…”
37 happily stands there, expectantly. “…”
He clears his throat. “Uhm, can I ask you something?”
She blinks, tilting her head to the side, hair overflowing down the middle of her face. How had his life come to asking children how to give birthday presents? “What do you want to ask?”
“What do you think makes a good birthday present?” he says quickly, looking at said interesting tiles instead of her curious gaze.
“A… birthday present? Hmm…” she paces around a bit, going up and down on her tip-toes.
‘Why didn’t she wear shoes?’ he thinks. One day she was going to walk down the hallways of Laplace and stand on some sort of miniature device that flew out of a lab due to an explosion and get turned into a rat. The rat would have blue hair and promptly get snatched up by some insane person and be subjected to useless experiments like ‘how fast can the blue rat eat a raspberry compared to the brown rat, the black rat and the genetically modified albino rat?’
He chases away the train of thought as 37 hits her fist against her palm. “I think a puzzle would make a good gift!”
Bringing his hand up to his chin, he thinks. Ulrich would certainly be the kind of person to enjoy a convoluted problem that takes an obscene amount of time to solve- he was the perpetrator of that horrible ‘All Questions and No Solutions’ book, after all. Adler doesn’t know how many hours of sleep he’s lost to thinking about those questions over the past year.
So he’d probably like it. But then again, Adler was a bit uncreative. Yes he could innovative, but creative for the sake of whimsy and entertainment? That was not his style. He doesn’t know what kind of puzzle he would be able to make for Ulrich that would not be just handing him a notebook filled with jumbled sentences and going ‘have fun’. Ulrich would 100% slowly look down at the thing in his hands and then back up at Adler and Adler would cower away and avoid him for his entire birthday. Hm, maybe he was creative, just in dramatics.
Plus, what would he encrypt? The Bible? Laplace’s Health and Safety Manual? His shopping list? The German National Anthem purely because he knew Ulrich couldn’t speak German?
Either way, it was not truly a bad suggestion. He files it away in his brain for later and puts his hand down. “That’s a reasonable idea. I’ll consider it.”
37 nods along. “Whose birthday is it for?”
“…Ulrich’s.”
It’s like there’s glitter in her eyes. That glows. “Oh, Mr Ulrich!” Adler turns around but there is no Ulrich and turns back, “I wonder how old he is?”
Oh god he doesn’t actually know and doesn’t want to. “…Old enough that he shouldn’t be allowed to use acronyms…” he mutters.
“Actually, if it is Mr Ulrich then I don’t think he’d mind anything that you give him.”
Adler gapes for 0.3 seconds before snapping his jaw shut. He’s heard her speeches; that girl’s mind works on another plane of complicated existence but she comes up with such an immature answer as if Ulrich would ever be pleased?
“…Anyway, thank you for your input.” He turns to leave then hesitates. “Don’t, don’t tell him.”
“I won’t!” she beams and goes back to counting rocks.
He briefly considers advising her to invest in sandals before getting self-conscious and leaving.
——————
About a week later and with fifteen days to go, Adler had been ruminating in the lab.
So, a puzzle that leads to nothing and a hEaRtFeLt nOtE. He wants to throw up.
Sighing, he once again lists in his head what Ulrich enjoys: annoying him, rage baiting him, looking at the stars, arguing with him, minesweeper, trying to assault him, code breaking, reading questionable things, writing questionable things, playing dress-up like a little girl, locking him out of the lab-
If he has so many hobbies why is it so hard to think of a gift?!
He wracks his brain for any time Ulrich might have mentioned wanting something. In fact… now that he thinks about it, he’s asked that very thing before multiple times! He thinks of the most recent one.
“What do you want, Ulrich?!” he had screamed in one of the staff rooms while at the coffee machine. They’d gotten into an slight disagreement and migrated to the staff room to calmly go through the evidence.
“I want a damn coffee!”
“I made you a coffee-“
“No, that was an imbalanced poison beverage in a gravy boat! Why was it in a gravy boat? And who the hell uses skimmed milk?!”
“There were no mugs- look!” He tore open the cabinets and the dishwasher, all empty. “That was the next best option. And there was only skimmed milk! You can’t even taste things so why do you care?”
“It’s not about the taste it’s about the nutritional content-“
“I’ve seen you take black coffe-”
“-Shut up. The nutritional. Content. And anyway, you’re telling me there was a gravy boat and no mugs? Really? Do you really want to say that? Because I could CLEARLY see that you had a mug on your side of the desk!”
“Well, I would have given it to you and forgone coffee because I can manage without it for a singular morning unlike you, but I had already taken a sip from it.”
“Then, Adler, if you’re such a saintly abstainer of coffee for my sake then why didn’t you just give your mug to me?”
“Are you being intentionally stupid? Because I had already sipped it!”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ugh, I’m not giving you something my mouth has touched! That’s disgusting beyond words.”
“Oh god, that is disgusting! Disgustingly pathetic! I don’t even have lips; it doesn’t mean anythi-“
This was not helping him in the slightest. He doubts that giving Ulrich a cup of fucking coffee which he did basically every single day would be a very interesting gift.
That day was such a disaster, now that he thinks about it. First that abominable morning, then in the afternoon they found out that all the mugs were missing because Regulus was making a water glass xylophone in a conference room.
Ulrich, the wishy-washy traitorous mass of fluid, had started playing it too after about four seconds of Regulus whining at him. Adler had watched on blankly as they made atonal atrocities and inevitably hit the mugs too hard and knocked some of them off the table. Water splashed everywhere and Adler wanted to cry.
Anyway, that does bring him to the potential help of Regulus. She was a whole lot higher on the risk scale compared to Marcus and 37, but she and Ulrich got on quite well.
She was the person who introduced Ulrich to music after all- it was something that proved to be a short-term boon and long-term irrevocable curse. At first, it was… kind of, maybe, begrudgingly, admittedly endearing to see him spasm out to the count of some tunes while he thought no one was looking. But after a while, he had started venturing into the alternative and just, bad music. If Ulrich waltzed up to him and forced headphones onto his ears, only to play the most toe-curlingly agonising ‘’’’’music’’’’’ and claim it fascinating again, he was going to walk out into the “Storm”.
All that to say, he was desperate, and so went out to search for the rockin’ pirate, praying all the while that she would not tell anyone that he asked to begin with. He was a fool, but he still desperately clung to hope anyway, because that’s what everyone kept telling him to do so really it was their fault.
Regulus was in a random room with Mr APPLe and what appeared to be Barcarola, the Italian musician Ulrich had met on the Free Breeze.
They seem to be making something, although what it might be, Adler cannot possibly begin to guess. They’re crouched/floating around a pile of random materials- wires, strings, timber, a whole cello, pegs- the girls talking animatedly about music.
He knocks on the door and they beckon him in.
“Hey Enigma! Ulrich isn’t here-“ He outwardly cringes, “and yes, this is allowed- we aren’t breaking any rules!” says Regulus in a sing-song voice.
Shutting the door behind him, he approaches their mess, making sure to stay a good three meters away because he doesn’t trust her, or anyone in this place actually. “Good afternoon, Miss… Barcarola?” she nods, “and Mr APPLe. What… what are you doing?” he says tiredly.
“We’re making an instrument for rocking out!”
Baracola nods along. “Yes, although I wouldn’t say it’s just for ‘rocking out’, Regulus.”
“It’s mainly for rocking out."
Adler again looks down at the pile of junk and doubts. “How do you plan on doing that?”
“Barcarola here is an expert luthier. And her arcane skill allows her to do some…” she pauses, “crafty stuff!”
Barcarola bows her head, smiling. “That’s right. We can use these instrument parts to make something entirely unique, with it’s own beautiful voice that’s unlike any other!”
He nods and tries to relate but finds he can’t. Either way, they go back to picking out the perfect hammer from the assortment. He watches as they seemingly arbitrarily choose two from the pile and discuss the differences between them, Regulus saying that it gave cooler vibes and Barcarola saying that this particular material would make a clearer sound when hitting strings.
Mr APPLe floats up to him. “Was there something you needed, Mr Enigma?”
Adler steels himself for this humiliating act of inquiry. “Yes, I, uh, wanted to ask for an opinion on… something.”
“Oh? Ask away.”
He looks down and shifts his weight around. “What- what do you think makes a good birthday present?”
The girls’ heads snap up. “Is there a birthday coming up?” says Regulus, peering over her sunglasses, “I could DJ for you!”
“I’d also be happy to play a piece for you!”
“That’s, that’s very kind of you, but I think I’m okay.”
“Whose birthday is it?” says Barcarola.
Before he can reply, Regulus interrupts him. She turns to Barcarola, puts a hand on her shoulder and shakes her head with a smile. “You’re really showing your lack of familiarity with Laplace…”
She frowns. “Well, of course- today is the first time I’ve come here.”
“And if you had been here before for more than an hour, you would know that the only person this guy would ever ask for advice about would be his dear, dear Ulrich..!”
A look of deep thought crosses Barcarola’s face, before it turns to recognition and then utter surprise. He wants to leave. “Ulrich? The Awakened that was with us on the Free Breeze?”
“That’s the one!”
Adler looks up and imagines himself going translucent and turning into a wandering spirit that floats away from Laplace to get lost in the wilderness.
“Huh!” She turns to Adler and he tries to make eye-contact with her. “So you’re looking for a birthday present for him?”
“…Yes.”
“What are you worrying about?” says Regulus dismissively, “You could give him a rubber ball and he’ll be buzzing about it non-stop for months.”
He looks at her skeptically. “I don’t think so…”
“Trust this pirate, he would be. But, if you insist… then I can think of no better gift than rock music!”
He suppresses a sigh and Barcarola giggles. “Of course you’d say that. But why constrain yourself to just rock music?” She turns to Adler, “Does Ulrich like music?”
“…Uhm, yes. But maybe it’s more accurate to say he enjoys rhythmic noise…” he mutters.
“I see. Then why don’t you try composing a piece yourself?”
He wants to hold his head in his hands but that’s not very polite or professional of him. “I have no idea how to write music.”
“That’s okay! You could always perform something.”
“I… am not musically inclined.”
“Yeah, you don’t seem it.” shrugs Regulus.
“…”
Barcarola hums as she fiddles with a string. “Hmm, then maybe you could just find a piece that you think represents your feelings for him.”
He shuts his eyes because if he can’t see them they can’t see him.
“Oh, a romantic piece that I love is-“
“I’ll think about it!”
“Yeeeah,” Regulus drawls, “but why think when you can just give him rock music! Ulrich likes rock music.”
“…Are you sure?”
“Of course! Who doesn’t?”
“…Deaf people?”
Her jaw drops. “You’re no fun.”
He tries to smile but it ends up looking like the straight face emoji.
The three turn back to their junk mound and start holding parts against the cello. “Really though, just give him anything. Record yourself telling him a bed time story, reading the dictionary, whatever. It doesn’t matter- it’s the thought that counts!” says Regulus.
He sighs. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
“No problem!”
Barcarola looks up and smiles. “It was nice meeting you!”
He waves and then turns to leave. He’s just about to open the door when he hears the tail-end of their conversation.
“-maybe we shouldn’t have combined those-“
“-Captain, why is it glowing?”
“-mamma mia!”
The fire alarm goes off and the sprinklers turn on.
——————
Because he was in the room with them and because he’s supposed to be a responsible adult, he ended up giving his account about what happened to a very serious vigiles cadet. He has no clue why there is a random Vigiles Bureau cadet in Laplace, but he had burst into the room with a shout and managed to only slightly start upon being met by a sopping wet Adler standing right in front of him, looking like he was about to commit murder suicide.
He can only guess that he was sent from the Foundation because that smartass Black Ibis captain had ran out of menial tasks for them to do and decided that the Laplace Scientific Computing Centre was a playground to send their destructive employees.
“Sir, thank you for your cooperation. I am going to ask you a few questions about the incident. Is that okay?”
He is fixed with an earnestly intense stare. Adler pathetically drips water onto the table. “…Is this necessary? Fire alarms go off every day in this place. And… you’re not an employee, I presume?”
The man momentarily breaks the eye-contact and looks down at his clenched fist, eyebrows furrowed like the words have truly touched his heart and shaken his beliefs. What is wrong with young people? “…For the safety of everyone here, I believe it is necessary, despite my temporary stationing.”
Adler is the fucking Substitute Director and he can’t even refuse a pointless questioning from some random guy. In Adler’s defence he thinks the cadet would have an honour-induced panic attack if he refused. “…Alright, ask away.”
“Great! Ahem. First of all, my name is Cheng Heguang and I am a cadet of the Vigiles Bureau. What should I address you as?”
“Enigma, but my name is Adler Hofmann…”
Cheng Heguang hides his confusion at the unusual name extremely poorly; he must be new to the Foundation. “A-Alright, Enigma. Are you an employee here?”
His eyes flick down to the obvious employee card strung up on his torso. “Yes.”
“What is your role?”
“Uhm, Co-Head of the Research Department and… I guess the, uh, substitute director…”
Cheng Heguang’s eyes open comically wide. “…”
“…”
He sits up in his chair. “…So, what happened..?”
“Researcher Regulus and her friends were doing an experiment and it exploded.” he says with no intonation.
“…I see. What was the experiment?”
“They were trying to make an instrument.”
“Was that with the appropriate materials?”
“…I think so?”
“Do you think that they took the necessary safety precautions?”
Why is this happening. “…Definitely.”
He gets a frown. “You are certain?”
“Oh, totally.”
“…Alright, thank you, Enigma.” he says measuredly as he appears to give up the extremely short and unproductive interrogation. “Do you… have any questions?”
‘Why are you here’ he thinks, but then another one crosses his mind. This man was negative on the risk scale..! Maybe someone who hasn’t been sucked into the Laplace asylum would have a logical idea that wasn’t ridiculously sappy.
“What do you think makes a good birthday present?”
Cheng Heguang once again looks utterly floored. “…I… I am not sure. It depends on the person. Could you provide some more context for me?”
He debates whether he should, but again, no risk. “This person is… hardworking. He likes a challenge and pattern finding… astrology. Anything that helps him in his pursuit for knowledge.”
The vigile looks at him seriously. “Right.” He thinks for a second.” Maybe instead of a gift, you can do something with him. If he is goal-orientated, he might appreciate that more. And… spending time with those you care about is more important than what you can provide.” he says with a faraway look.
“…That is logical.” He looks to the side, “What… kind of activity?”
“Um, perhaps something that requires you to work together?”
Adler nods. Finally, something that wasn’t inherently embarrassing!
Cheng Heguang’s gaze flits to the side and his eyes narrow. “If you don’t mind me asking, is the person you are talking about… the Awakened, hm, black… oil?”
How. What?! Adler almost has a mental breakdown. This man may not know what Ulrich was but why did he know who Ulrich was?! “How did you know…?!”
Cheng Heguang laces his fingers together, thinking deeply. “I just remembered that when I arrived here, I got lost and tried to enter one of the rooms to ask for help. But it had a timer on it and I didn’t know what the passcode was. So it… imploded.” He looks deeply upset by the memory. Adler can sympathise since those things also deeply pissed him off.
“But then the door was opened by an Awakened who said that the self-destruct was a hoax designed to trick people into not entering. I had never seen something like that before, so I asked him about the mechanisms and he started talking to me about his work.” He pauses, “Extensively. And then he mentioned that he installed the fake self-destruct to ‘keep Adler out’ before ranting about this person for about ten minutes more.”
“…”
Adler is slack jawed and he has no idea how to react to this information. Actually, no- he does! But he has too many reactions because on one hand, of fucking course even Cheng Heguang knows about them and also Ulrich that scheming bastar-
“…So was he who you were talking about?”
He takes a breath through his nose and grits his teeth. “Yes.”
“Ah.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…Um, I think he would enjoy spending time with you on his birthday, no matter what you do.”
Distantly, another fire alarm goes off and Adler is in the process of dying of embarrassment. “Maybe. He’s such a fussy, illogical and whiny drama queen- he can’t ever relent so who knows what he’d think of something as meaningless as being in the same room as me.”
Cheng Heguang somehow finally looks as strict as he wants to appear as he gives Adler a very disappointed look. He can’t believe both he and Ulrich have been in his presence for likely less than 30 minutes and he’s already giving him that look.
“I don’t think he’d dislike it.” he says gently and stands from his chair. “Um, anyway. That’s all I wanted to ask. It was nice meeting you, Enigma. Thank you for letting me question you.”
“It’s fine. Uh, thank you for letting me question you too.”
Cheng Heguang smiles and Adler feels like he’s looking at the local hero about to save the neighbours cat from the Malevolent Tree Branch. “No problem, sir! See you around.”
‘Bitte, nein.’ “See you.”
He prays that Cheng Heguang doesn’t talk to anyone about what he said about Ulrich.
——————
This nightmare never ends. Of course Regulus told everyone she knew about her and Barcarola’s exploding instrument, which included her sorry encounter with the sorry Adler in his sorry state about Ulrich’s birthday present.
X and Medicine Pocket break down his door and march into his office. They are so young yet have such disturbing smiles.
“Adler! I hear you’re having trouble thinking of a birthday present for Ulrich.” says Medicine Pocket, rubbing their injection gun threateningly as usual.
“You should consider giving him one of my devices; they’re very useful. Take this, for instance- the Automatic Fountain Pen Filler, mark IV!”
He is four pixels away from asking Vertin to hide him in her suitcase.
“He can play with my dogs- I’ll take his head off and roll it around the grass hehe!”
“Oh, what about my Glass Polisher Machine? I can guarantee that it doesn’t scratch!”
Wait, X and Medicine Pocket also have access to her suitcase.
He puts his hands up to make them shut up. They do so only because they knew anything that Adler said could be used to further bully him.
“It’s okay, I’ve… I’ve already thought of something.”
They both smile and he suppresses the urge to sweat and shake.
“Adler… lying is a bad habit for a Director to have. Although I guess it is kind of a necessary for politicking bureaucrats…” says Medicine Pocket, rolling their eyes.
“Fine, I haven’t come up with anything. But I don’t want your help!”
“We know, but we also know that you need our help.” says X like he’s patronising a small child. “And we are the perfect people to be helping you.”
Adler’s eyes bounce between the two of them. The cat’s out of the bag and escaped out the back door- he might as well. He sighs. “So what do you suggest?”
“Uh, were you listening? Do I need to give you my best Ulrich impression to make it so you’ll hear?” scoffs Medicine Pocket, “‘Adler! I am disgustingly in love with you but won’t do anything with that and since you’re a stupid human you’ll burn away years of your life stressing over a birthday present I don’t care about!’”
The stupid human is highly offended. This is a poor impersonation- he doesn’t listen to what Ulrich says either. “If this is your idea of helping me I suggest going to the library and checking out a dictionary.”
“Don’t worry Adler, because I have a good idea. And I have also mentioned it before but I’m more patient. So, my new invention-“
Medicine Pocket whacks X on the back of the head. “Nobody cares about your shitty inventions!”
“Hey! Ulrich will~”
“I have to agree with Medicine Pocket.” says Adler dryly.
“Even this idiot can see it.”
X pouts and shrugs. “Well if Ulrich is too blind to appreciate my inventions then maybe he’ll lower his standards enough to appreciate yours, Adler.”
“Excuse me?”
Medicine Pocket gasps dramatically, their way too sharp teeth glinting like a warning. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Give him a tamagotchi.”
Adler squints at them and his hair accidentally gets in his eyes. “What the hell is that?”
“Oh, I’d love to see that!”
“Right? He’d get so angry at it.”
“Do you think he’d neglect it or constantly monitor it?”
“I think he’d neglect it at first and then when it dies he’ll start obsessing over it out of spite.”
“Haha! I can see that.”
“I bet he’d choose the ugliest option out of all of them-“
The conversation is completely going over Adler’s head. Leaning back in his chair, he pries out the actual suggestion- a gadget/contraption/gizmo whatever.
Of what? Is his next immediate question, but it’s honestly not a bad idea. Ulrich loves his technology (he kind of has to since he owes his entire autonomy and expression of self to it), and it would satisfy his want for something that was useful and not a ‘complete waste of resources’. Adler tsks- as if Ulrich didn’t spend obscene amounts of effort doing unproductive tasks.
“Hello, earth to Adler?”
He recoils as he realises X has walked round the side of the desk to stare him down with his black and gold eye while Medicine Pocket has launched themselves across the desk to scrutinise him.
Medicine Pocket fake gags. “Ugh, you had that revolting smile on your face you get when you think about Ulri-“
“There is no such thing!” he screams immediately, said smile being replaced with indignation. “Get out!”
“I thought you wanted our help, Adler!” gasps X, putting a hand to his cheek. “You know, my birthday is also the same as Ulrich’s so I expect something too-”
“Leave!”
The two leave in the most insulting manner possible; the obnoxious sound of them snickering obvious even after the door has been closed.
Surely… surely this idea would suffice. Now he just needs to think of what device to get.
——————
Maybe one more consultation was in order. He’d spent a ridiculous amount of time debating over what kind of gadget and came up with nothing. In fact, he’d gone over all the suggestions and still found that whenever he actually thought of an idea every neurone in his brain told him it was a bad one, or that there was a better one.
Stuck in the perpetual loop, at a moment of weakness in the night, he had called the only person in he knew who seemed to have any control over their life since his sister had died- Lucy.
Before he’d fully registered how utterly humiliating this was, he had already dialled the number and it started ringing. In this beautiful demonstration of an organisms’ reaction to acute stress, Adler has demonstrated the ‘freeze’ option of fight-flight-or-freeze. He watches the phone ring in horror as his finger twitches to hang up, but it’s too late and Lucy answers the phone.
“Hello, Adler.”
He gawks at the phone.
“…Hello?”
He manages to reboot his brain. “Uh- hi Lucy.”
“Ah, you are here.” she says. He can distinctly imagine her nodding. “It has been a while; how are you doing?”
“I’m doing… fine. What are you doing?”
“That is good to hear. I am still on vacation, pursuing ‘rest’. Currently, I am in the USSR and have recently found myself in the company of some fellow robots. It has been an enlightening experience.”
He stays silent. Does he really want to know?
She continues. “Well, I think that it is the USSR- the building I am in is located on a floating island in the sky.”
“What?-”
“-Anyway. I assume that you called me for a reason. Is something the matter, Adler?”
He finds himself hesitating again, but he steels his resolve. “I am… I am trying to think of a birthday present for Ulrich, but I’m struggling to come up with anything.”
“I see. I do not think that there is any reason to worry-“ He shuts his eyes, “- Ulrich would appreciate anything you give him.”
This cannot be correct. He just knows it in his heart that Ulrich would flip out if got something unworthy.
“…I have been told that multiple times, but it doesn’t exactly bring me any closer to choosing something.”
“Hmm. Have you considered asking him?”
“Of course not. That would spoil the surprise and what if he dies before his birthday?”
“?” she says over the phone, somehow. “You have unfounded worries. But,” she pauses for a few seconds, “maybe you should consider visiting somewhere with him. Even though his last vacation was over six-hundred days, he still has three-hundred days left, likely more. As for yourself, I am unsure whether you have done enough days to account for your seven year absence, however I believe that a break would benefit both of you.”
This was getting all a bit too real now. Going on holiday with Ulrich sounded like a cosmic catastrophe waiting to happen. Surely that is an immutable fact to anyone who ever knew them. He takes a breath; Lucy had always held a ludicrous amount of faith in the two of them despite having no logical evidence for the fact.
And another reason he really, can’t, was that it was just so sickeningly domestic..! It’s too serious. Not that he wasn’t serious about Ulrich (he suppresses a shudder), but in the grand hierarchy of Stages of a Relationship, this was getting too close to something that could be labelled and the last thing he wanted to do was shave off even more layers of his sanity to entertain the idea of what their future would look like.
But Ulrich really should take a break. His humanitarian efforts were getting a bit ridiculous now and maybe a trip to some random place would set his priorities straight again; remind him of the important things if you will.
During this long silence of Adler thinking about the cons and cons of going on holiday with Ulrich (unthinkable), Lucy’s lady robot friends had approached her. “Hm? Okay, I’ll join you two in a second. Adler, I must leave now. I am sure that you can think of a suitable way to celebrate Ulrich’s birthday.”
“Ah, alright. Enjoy your break, Lucy.”
“Goodbye.”
The phone line cuts and Adler is left in the clutter of his office, still despairing over this inconsequential problem.
——————
It was getting too close to the day now. Upon hastily giving Ulrich his coffee, Adler had escaped the lab and bumped into the Timekeeper. She looked serious as always and she was so short he couldn’t really see her expression under the hat.
“Good morning, Mr Enigma.” she says, “How have you been?”
He tries not to frown but only you can decide how successful he is. “I’ve been fine. Could be better, could be worse. What brings you to Laplace?”
She shifts her suitcase to her other hand. “I’m here to ask some people to help with a mission. Oh, don’t worry; Ulrich is not on my list.”
He wasn’t worrying and he wishes that people could forget about their entire relationship. “I see…”
“…”
“…”
She lifts her head slightly and is met with her silvery neutral eyes. Fuck it, he’s already asked like five children. “What do you think Ulrich would like for a birthday present?” he blurts out.
She shows no reaction other than looking to the wall in thought. “…Mm. I don’t think he wants anything.”
“…”
“…”
He searches her gaze, desperately trying to get her to please elaborate. Luckily she does. “The only thing he wants from you is your company, Mr Enigma.”
This time he can’t stop the frown. “I think people forget how fussy he is.”
“I think you misjudge him.” she says lightly, “Just have a meaningful conversation with him.”
Well, he’s fine with that, except for the modifier of ‘meaningful’. What the hell is ‘meaningful’ supposed to mean?! Does he ask him about childhood trauma which is non-existent since he had no childhood? Does he inquire about his opinions on politics? He didn’t hide that from anyone and Adler knew his opinions better than anyone else. How about what they want to be when they grow up while they’re at it?
Vertin observes Adler’s contorted face and distinctly knows that he is completely missing the point. “It can be about anything- just so long as you can both…connect.”
He is still (willingly, self-inflictedly) confused and she gives up trying to explain it. She’s got arcanists to convince to put their lives on the line to get some seashells after all. “In all honesty, I think Ulrich would appreciate anything you give him.”
He shoves his hands in his jacket pocket like a petulant emo teenager. “Every single person I’ve asked has said that.”
“Then you should listen to them.”
He grunts and she smiles in a way that feels vaguely ridiculing. “I wish you all the best in your dilemma, Mr Enigma- I must leave now. Have a good day.”
She leaves quietly and Adler stares after her, before turning to look over the balcony of Laplace. He’s kind of getting to urge to go bungee jumping all of a sudden. Or just go to sleep. Either works.
Oh no he’s got three days.