Work Text:
“So? Who is it going to be? Coupé or Sonar?”
Robert looked at the two files on the desk in front of him. They each had the photo of the reformed villains – no, the brand new heroes on them. Their mugshots, in which they were both wearing the ill-suited orange prison jumpsuits, seemed to look at him with blank expressions. Not even hostile, just… Empty.
He’d just seen the two of them just before walking into the office. They hadn’t looked this way at all. They were both congratulating Invisigal, looking happy, joyful even. A far cry from these depressing pictures.
Robert looked up at Blonde Blazer. She was giving him that soft, reassuring smile, expecting his answer. And yet she exuded unwavering certitude, not a hint of hesitation. ‘This is the way’ was what her gaze told him.
Robert had found her to be a kindred spirit, until now. Between the easy-going conversation and the comforting banter, he had begun to consider her a fast friend. Someone who shared his point of views. Not on this matter, however.
“I’ve been thinking about this the whole day, actually. I don’t get it.”
Blonde Blazer tilted her head.
“What, the leader board system? We can go over the point details if you want -”
“No, not that. Well, that too, but not the issue I wanted to address.”
The point system seemed ill-fitting. Like a score you’d give a kid. Less of a measure of someone’s performance, more of an artificial way to keep them motivated. Not a care for the message it sent.
Who cared what you learned in school? All that mattered is that you get an A.
Who cared how you had improved the world around you, how you had improved yourself? All that mattered was a couple of numbers next to your name and how much further ahead that placed you in front of everyone else on the leaderboard.
Sure, a system was needed, but that didn’t mean the one at play was ideal. Points, grading, ranking, all of it was so corporate, so detached from the reality of hero fieldwork.
SDN was a company, and a company needed metrics, so, ultimately, it made sense they needed to grade their employees’ performance… Somehow.
That didn’t really explain this whole ‘cut’ decision however.
“What I saw today was a team that was so focused on the leaderboard they would send each other into death traps, injure their competition and almost completely give up on their job when threatened by this arbitrary system of points.”
Blonde Blazer chuckled lightly, shaking her head.
“It’s not really arbitrary-”
Robert stopped her with a raise of his hand. He wasn’t done.
“And then, when I gave them a half-baked pep talk, they started working together. They found synergy, and teamwork. They got better. In the span of one afternoon, we went from two or three successful calls to nailing all eighteen of them. I mean, did you see them out there? It was freaky how well they got along.”
Blonde Blazer blinked her pretty blue eyes at him, listening close without getting his point.
“Okay, that’s true, but, what does that have to do with choosing who gets cut?”
“It has everything to do with it.”
Robert picked up the files, looking at both of them. He might not have had a lot of time to get to know either of them that well, but he had already developed a little bit of fondness for the would-be heroes.
Sonar, who despite his education and his way with words still showed he could get trapped when his lower brain was at play. He had his enthusiasm for nerdy shit and… yeah, drugs too, but he was someone who ultimately was still giving his best performance when given the chance.
Coupé, who was deadly but efficient, and acted cold but had cheered Invisigal on with all the other team members. She was someone who failed at showing any hint of warmth when meeting clients out there, but was committed to excellence in all her missions, in spite of how trivial they could be.
He threw both files back on the desk.
“They all did their best, and their reward is to lose a team member? Sends a rather confusing message, don’t you think?”
“Robert, it’s a difficult choice, but it’s one we have to make. The team won’t take this seriously otherwise. Are you concerned about retaliation?”
Robert almost rolled his eyes. Yeah right, as if at this point, one more enemy would make a difference. He was on enough people’s shitlist that he could afford not to care at this point.
“Looks to me like they started to take it seriously alright. And not just out of fear of being cut. Why, again, do we ‘have to’ make this choice? Are you sure this is the right course of action?”
“You know the Phoenix team’s productivity in at the bottom of the list-”
Ugh.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. That’s why you asked me to work on it. Work on them – with them. And that’s what we did today. Firing someone is not going to increase ‘productivity’.”
As if productivity was a term that had any place in hero work.
“It’ll just make them go back to trying to sabotage each other, or make them want to quit before it’s their turn to get fired. I told you, I thought about it all day long, and I really don’t think the ‘cut the dead weight’ mentality will get us anywhere. Not to mention, if this was really about productivity? One day’s worth of change wouldn’t matter that much, and who’s got to go wouldn’t be decided on the flip of a coin.”
There it was. He’d said his piece. Now she could just make the choice for him.
Blonde Blazer looked pensive as she stared at the files on the desk. Silence stretched between the two of them. Eventually, she spoke up:
“… I see. Well. If it’s your decision, I guess that’s that.”
Robert raised a surprised eyebrow.
“Really?”
“Really. I told you from the beginning, didn’t I? It’s your team. Your decisions to make… And your mistakes too.”
She smiled, although it looked sad, just on the verge of pity.
“I don’t think this one’s a mistake.”
He thought every word of what he’d said.
“I guess we’ll see,” she sighed.
“I guess we will,” he concluded, without any hesitation.