Syte Scraps (Unfinished WIPs)

“...Why don't you ever go home, anyway?”

The question was so sudden and pointed that it caused Strike to jolt. It came out of nowhere- just moments before, Strike and Vulf had been working silently together. In hindsight, Strike realized Vulf was only ever quiet when he was thinking of something terrible to say.

“I go home all the time.”

“Not– you know what I meant. Not Hive's place. You've got your own domain, why don't you use it?”

“I’m not selling it to you.”

“It's not- I'm not going to buy your damn house, calm down. I'm just… curious.”

Strike's mouth twisted in annoyance as Vulf continued.

“Hive thinks he’s better than the rest of us. I don't understand how you tolerate him- and, somehow, you live with him?”

“I tolerate him better than I tolerate you,” came Strike's quick response. He said it more to upset Vulf than as an actual reason, but it wasn't entirely wrong. If Vulf was hurt by the comment, he didn't let it show.

“And when I stopped by his place- there's hardly enough room for one Virusyte in there. Where do you put your things? You're not cramped?”

“I travel light, is all.”

Strike gave Vulf's office a cursory glance. File cabinets were filled to the brim with folders, crammed to such an extent that the divisions were little more than decoration. Text files were pinned to the walls and piled up in stacks. Receipts, transaction logs- Strike wouldn't have been surprised if Vulf had left his passwords written out among the numerous pages. He made note of red ink stains and scribbles hidden beneath furniture and behind decor, as if the office had been rearranged and adorned to hide the worst of the ink-cartridge carnage. It was a mess, but it was organized by Vulf standards. The werewolf knew where everything was. Somehow.

And that was after Strike had a hand in cleaning things up. When Strike wasn't being asked to deal with Vulf's competition, he was tasked with clearing out some of the confidential data Vulf's work caused to pile up. Things that he didn't want getting back to the bosses, or secrets that needed to stay hidden- Strike had no qualms with destroying evidence of wrongdoing, and didn't care enough to piece together what Vulf wanted to keep secret. His ailments had their benefits- files were easily corrupted in his grasp, making them even harder to piece together once he shredded them.

If Strike had any say in it, half of the mess in Vulf's office would be deleted or dumped into a recycling bin. He couldn't understand how the werewolf had it cataloged.