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WHO: Cobb Vanth & Others
WHERE: The newspaper offices
WHAT: General work day activities and banter.
WHEN: One day.
WARNINGS: Possible swears.

Every day, almost without fail, Cobb made it to the office at 8:30 am.

"Morning Charlie," he said to the security guard as he walked through the lobby, the sound of his cane echoing off the marble floors and slate ceilings. There were a few others around, judging by the echoing footsteps. The building was never quiet but it wasn't a madhouse just yet.

He could smell some fresh flowers and a vanilla chia latte with two shots of expresso as he passed the reception desk which told him who was manning the phones this early. "Morning Jo."

"Morning Mr. Vanth," answered the young African-American woman. He couldn't see her. He couldn't see anything but she had told him once when he commented on how it sounded like she had beads in her hair. She wore her hair in dreadlocks with beads. Cobb 'saw' the world through sound and sense most of the time.

"You're gonna call me Cobb one of these days," he teased playfully on his way to the elevators.

"Of course I will, Mr. Vanth," she replied dryly without looking his way.

He chuckled, cane still leading the way. When it bumped the wall for the elevator bank he reached his hand forward, running his fingers along it until it went from wood paneling to metal. A little swipe of his fingers and he found the buttons to call the elevator. Luckily, those buttons never changed. And this early there was no one offering to get the buttons for him either.

They meant well but he was perfectly capable of handling elevator buttons by himself.

The elevator pinged and he stepped in. Another search with his fingers reading the braille off to the side of the buttons he found the right floor, pushed, and then waited for the familiar sensation of the elevator moving. He went over a few story ideas in his head while the elevator went up. When it stopped and the door opened he stepped off.

He walked into the office, enveloped in familiar scents and sensations. He could walk around the desks here without needing his cane. The layout was imprinted into his mind. It blazed in his senses as well but he didn't rely on that when he was in a familiar place. He could go to his desk but he went to the little breakroom and made coffee first.

With his heightened sense of smell he could brew it without burning the grounds. Unlike some of the people in this newsroom who always, always burned it without fail whenever they made a pot.

With fresh coffee he made his way to his desk and settled in. Time to start the work day.

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And without fail, Ben Bridger was always there a few minutes before Cobb. The man an early riser as he had a younger brother to look after. Even if Ezra was getting older and almost didn’t really need him anymore. Old habits died hard, but one thing remained, he was still dedicated. To his only family, his job, and his friends.

“Hey Cobb, don’t forget about the meeting at ten today.” The man’s soft voice calling into Mr Vanth’s office before taking a whiff. “Oh is that coffee? You always make the best.”

Ben was one of those poor souls who always burnt the coffee, despite loving the stuff. He was talented with a camera and writing, but not always when it came to cooking or brewing coffee. So excuse him as he darts away to pour himself a cup before coming back. The soft clinking of a spoon in his mug as he stirred his preferred concoction of cream and sugar in the blessed dark beverage.

“And I’ll be focusing on settling in the new intern after that. Anything you need from me before then?”

Ben was, genuinely, one of the few truly good people Cobb had met in his life. The guy worked hard, looked after his little bother, and absolutely lied about his crush on a certain superhero. Cobb liked him as a man and a coworker.

Except for the burned coffee thing but he couldn't be mad because Ben tried his best every time.

"Is it going to be a useful meeting or one of those that wastes an hour of my time?" Cobb pulled his cellphone from his pocket and asked it to read out his calendar to him. It was a meeting about upcoming stories and a general check in. Maybe it'd be productive.

"Oh, I forgot about the intern." Cobb drummed his fingers on his desk. "No, can't think of anything. Could look over the pictures you took for the city part article I'm working on..."

He grinned as he let the sentence trail off.

It was a strange situation, to suddenly become aware. One moment a woman known as Lark Weber, popular celebrity gossip columnist, was working on the latest juicy dish about Tony Stark (and when wasn't there juicy dish about Tony Stark). The next?

The next something snapped in the back of her mind, like a thread had been tugged too long and too hard in two different directions until it could no longer handle the strain. And with that, the spell around her snapped. And Dedicate Initiate Lark looked up just in time to see Cobb settle in at his desk. She looked across at him and thought his face was perhaps a touch familiar. Maybe.

"Excuse me, but where am I?"

Cobb looked up at Lark's question with an eyebrow raised in her general direction. "From the sound of it, you're at your desk."

But there was something weird in the way she asked the question. Cobb heard the genuine confusion in her voice. It wasn't the usual teasing that might accompany a question like that.

"You have another long night or something?" he asked with a little more genuine concern. She chased gossip and high society like a bloodhound but all those late nights and parties couldn't be easy on her. Maybe she just needed to go home and get some sleep.

While never late, Cal was never super early either, but he always seemed to be where he was needed to be at the right time. Unlike quite a few of the occupied desks in the office, Cal managed to keep his relatively organized, things that needed to be done in one stack in a tray here, writing utensils in a cup there, a notepad to keep track of his tasks and even a coaster for a cup of coffee.

Of course a lot of the work he tended to be given had him away from his desk, which was why he'd be found over on the opposite side of the office, running old printed files that had already been digitally scanned into a paper shredder. It was a tedious process, and while it was at least something to keep busy with, the monotony was wearying.

Her desk? That seemed unlikely. Lark pushed back from it just enough to look at herself. She was not familiar with anything she wore. What was shit shirt, a flowing blouse with buttons undone in a display of immodesty that she hadn't had since she'd taken her vows. The skirt as well, it was far too short and clung to a lot of places that weren't suitable for an acrobat or what amounted to a priest. And her shoes... How did someone walk on shoes that looked like they had a dagger on the heel? This was all wrong.

"I fear quite long," she answered the man, looking at him. "I don't remember being here, or even awakening from my sleep. Where, may I ask, is here?"

"Here kid," Cobb said as he set a fresh cup of coffee for Cal. He deliberately ignored the coaster. "I can hear how bored you are."

And the constant drone of the shedder had started to get on Cobb's nerves. He needed Cal to take a break for his own sanity. If Cal didn't stop he would probably unplug the shedder just for two minutes of peace.

"Take a break, would you? It's the good stuff." Cobb ran his fingers along the edge of the desk until he found a clear space which felt wide enough to sit down on. He could sense where stuff was but it was always better to check.

Okay, sounded like something was really wrong with Lark today.

"You're at work, the newspaper." Cobb got up, picked up his cane, and made his way over to Lark's desk with a little frown. "If you don't remember getting here, maybe you should go home. I'm sure you've got an old article one of the interns can clean up and turn in for today."

He held out a hand to her. "You feeling okay, Lark? Really. I can call you a cab to take you home and help you downstairs."

Newspaper? She doesn’t know this term. Or believes she should not. And this man, she has never seen him in her life to her knowledge, and yet...

The offered hand is accepted and she uses it for balance as she stands. She doesn’t even think to grab the purse by the desk. It is not something she would mentally assign to herself, even if it did match her outfit.

“Yes, I believe something must be dreadfully wrong. Perhaps...”

Magic. She could feel the faint brush of it. It felt like torn cloth, hastily woven, reaching out to pull her in. She feared that perhaps if she said something was wrong aloud it would only make things worse.

“Perhaps I am unwell. Or even struck my head. I do seem quite beside myself.”

Snapped out of whatever trance the consistent grinding of gears and paper against metal, Cal lifted his head and smiled briefly at the man and the offering of coffee. "Sorry. You know how it is with this sort of thing, you just start working on auto-pilot." He let the last bit of paper go rolling through, depositing a fresh layer of diamond-shaped bits on the ever-growing heap before the sound died off to a blissful silence.

"Thanks, sir," he said, setting down the folder and the remnants of its contents he'd yet to get to off to the side so he could pick up the cup. He took a moment to appreciate the scent before having a sip. While he wasn't an avid coffee consumer, he'd never turn down a cup of 'the good stuff.' There was just something almost magical about the way Cobb managed to brew his coffee that Cal was convinced he could have made one heck of a barista if he hadn't chosen his current line of profession.

Luckily, Cobb thought to grab her purse for her. He grabbed it as he tucked her arm against his. "Boss, Lark's not feelin' well. I'm going to get her home!"

He could hear her heart racing a little but she wasn't lying about this. She seemed scared for some reason which wasn't like Lark at all. Something was definitely wrong.

"Do you want to call someone?" he asked as he led her towards the elevators. "Just to keep an eye on you while you're home?"

Because he felt like she shouldn't be alone right now.

"You don't have to call me sir."

Cobb really tried to make sure that everyone around the office treated him like anyone else. Cal was a good kid though, always friendly, almost always in a good mood. He liked him.

"Yeah, it's real repetitive," he said dryly. At least the sound had stopped. For awhile they could all enjoy the normal sounds of the office. "Have you got any other projects to do? Ones that don't involve the paper shredder."

True, her heart does race. Fear. This place cut to the heart of her with fear. To be so caught in the spell of another, no matter how she might buffet it, was too much. And already she knew she did not have what she would need for a working of any sort. No fibers around but those she wore. How could there be no thread to call to, no spindle to reverse?

Lark was one of the Great Mages of her world and yet this place was so great a mystery it drove fear to her heart.

With his help in standing she walked forward, only to find herself unstable in her shoes. Why could she not be in practical sandals?

“I think the one I would call cannot answer.”

Rosethorn, if only you were here.

“I do not believe I have someone to ask. But I am unsure.”

Man, she was talking weird. Cobb had never heard her talk like this. Usually, Lark was aware of modern slang and used it often. She sounded like she had escaped out of a university or acting troop or something with how formal she sounded.

"You don't have anyone in your phone?" He patted her purse with his free hand. He didn't want to search through it without her permission but maybe he would since something seemed real wrong. "Your parents? Siblings?"

Cobb didn't actually know that much about Lark outside the office. She really might not have anyone. Maybe he should stay with her?

"Cobb, sorry," Cal amended, giving a sheepish grin. It wasn't the first time he'd been given the reminder but Cal had been taught to give people respect where respect was due. Old habits died hard.

"Some light editing and a proof-reading for a few digital articles to go up on the site, but those won't go up until the weekend," he said. He was otherwise caught up, more relevant things ready to go for the next publish. It probably wasn't a surprise. Cal Kestis was always on top of things when it came to the things he was given to work on. Shredding old files was usually something he was given when more senior reporters had nothing else to shove at him, if only so they could get their own jobs done.

“Phone?”

The word was a strange one indeed. She didn’t know the meaning. Was it perhaps the device young Billy had shown her by the fountain? Did she possess one?

Well at least she could answer the other things.

“My parents are long past and I had no siblings. So unfortunately I could not reach any party such as those.”

But his concern is lovely.

“Are there perhaps healers I could see?”

"Hmm." Cobb stroked his beard, which he still kept maintained thanks to frequent trips to the barber shop. "You know, we could work on your interview skills a little. I want to go bother Stark about this new project I've heard rumors about. You should come with."

Cal was a good editor and not bad with details. He might make a good reporter if they could sharpen his interview skills. "Let me talk to the boss. I bet I can get you to ride shotgun with me."

It'd be good to get out of the office and into the field. Cobb also always enjoyed the chance to bother Stark about what he was working on.

"Yeah, we're gonna go see a doctor." Cobb was very concerned because it seemed like Lark might be having a break with reality. He hadn't thought she was that stressed out. Had he not been paying attention?

He stopped outside the elevators and really listened to her, her heart, and her breathing and his senses all turned to her. It told him quite a lot and for a second he could almost see her face but even his strange way of seeing the world couldn't put that much detail in.

She sounded healthy enough, just scared. Really scared.

"Hey, I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay? I won't leave you alone until you feel safe."

Who wouldn't jump at the chance to meet Tony Stark? That aside, this was an exciting opportunity, being able not only to accompany but to observe Cobb in action. Although the man couldn't see Cal's face, it wasn't difficult to glean his expression from the brightening of his tone. The intern just barely managed to keep himself from saying 'sir' again.

"Really?" He quickly swallowed down a bit of that excitement, clearing his throat. Keep it professional, Kestis. "I'd sure appreciate some pointers." He didn't mind getting out of the office either, although he was left to wonder about who was driving, given that comment.

Cal's obvious excitement made Cobb smile. The intern was always eager to help but this was clearly more than his usual eager response.

"Yeah, really. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it." Cobb didn't take it easy on the interns when it came to work so if he was inviting Cal along it was because he thought the young man could handle it. "You can be my eyes."

He wiggled his eyebrows because he always thought that blind jokes were funny. Now, if people made fun of him it was different but he could make the jokes about himself endlessly.

That made the intern chuckle a bit, even though he shook his head. "I'll do my best, Cobb." Not that he thought the man needed anyone for that. He was always strangely, if not perhaps a little disturbingly, aware of his surroundings that it was sometimes easy to forget that Cobb couldn't see.

"I'll get this stuff put away in the meantime," Cal said. He was sure that he and Cobb weren't the only ones sick of hearing the shredder running either way.

It was a little unsettling how aware he was of his surroundings but no one seemed to really think it that suspicious.

"I'm doing this for me." He reached out and patted Cal's shoulder. "I'll go tell the boss."

He stood up and made his way to the boss' office. Cobb spent just a minute to let him know he was talking Cal for a field trip to harass Stark for another interview. The boss didn't look impressed but he didn't reign in Cobb's urge. He was too good of a reporter.

"Alright, kid, grab your coat. We're off to Stark's." He went back to his desk for his coat, and his cane.

"Yess," Cal said under his breath, permitting himself a tiny fistpump. He made sure his desk was in order before grabbing his jacket to slip on. Then he slung his small messenger bag over his head, stuffing his phone into the front pocket.

"Ready when you are, Cobb."

Perhaps she should resist the questions, given the strange man's level of concern. His words were strange, though. Not let anything happen to her? What a strange offer. And safety, what an illusory thing to expect.

"I fear something already has happened," she answered. "Something I cannot define."

She sighed. Sighed and let herself be guided by the blind man. Perhaps he might not see easily, but she had known plenty of blind beggars who were better with their surroundings than a stranger might be. And she was the strangest one could be here.

"Do you ever feel you are not in the right place?"

Cobb shrugged on his suit coat and picked up the cane leaning against his desk. He made sure his phone was in his pocket before he motioned for Cal to follow him to the elevators.

"What do you know about Stark?" he asked while they waited. "When it comes to a good interview you do your research on the person and their business first before you start writing your questions to ask them. Rule number one of interviews."

In a way a reporter had to know the person as well as a friend or family member. He had interviewed Stark before and hadn't forgotten the guy's personality and ability to dodge questions.

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