Another name for the man, followed by the companion of science. What is it?

[enigmaestro]

WHO: City Hall staffers.
WHERE: City Hall.
WHEN: February 14th.
WARNINGS: None foreseeable.
SUMMARY: Deputy Mayor Edward slings a few arrows and barbs while playing the criminal cupid at City Hall (alternatively: the enigmatic eros of executive empires!!). He's set up "anonymous" Valentines gifts and cards that clearly insinuate that they were sent from various lovelorn staffers to poor, unsuspecting other staffers. This, he figures, will cause optimal confusion and humiliation, which is at least somewhat entertaining (as opposed to actual governing or something, which displeases Eddie). So here's a new question: how could this brilliant plan possibly backfire???
FORMAT: Whatever.



The checklist:

From "Mitchell" to his loyal Bradbury: a precious Valentine card with ample lace and hearts reading thusly: I can’t look at myself in the mirror anymore. I am dependent on you so much that I’m ashamed of it. I throw myself into work just to escape this feeling. Be mine, Valentine.
To Larsa: no card, but there is a package with wrapped in newspaper with an edible licorice collar enclosed. Attached is a mechanical cog.

From “Bradbury” to Nelson: a card with a puppy on it that reads YOU’RE SEMPER FIIIIIINE, VALENTINE!! and is enclosed in an envelope with Security Department embossment. Attached is a small tube cherry-flavored lubrication that reads POP ME.
To Jane: a collection of heart-shaped balloons scattered around City Hall, and every single bunch of them has a note that reads YOU JANE. ME NOT BRADBURY.

From “April” to Ruka: a black eye patch with a heart sewn into the middle of it. Upon that heart is a smiley face.
To Nelson: a note saying You make me feel weightless. Also, please use these weights. Accompanying the note are two 10-pound free weights. Pink. Hot pink.
To Red: a VHS video of The Titanic, complete with a costume jewelry necklace of a blue heart, with pearls.

From “Jane” to Bradbury: a pair of black leather chaps. The note attached reads as I want to see these on the floor and is written in red lipstick.
To Mitchell: A bouquet of blow pops. The note reads Consider this your oral lecture, also in red lipstick.

From “Larsa” to April: A taxidermy-treated raccoon looking particularly fierce. No note required.
To Ruka: one 16x16x12 box full of candy hearts, and all of them say CALL ME on them. On the box is Larsa’s phone number.

From “Ruka” to Mitchell: a copy of Pride & Prejudice. The interior cover is inscribed with a four paragraph note praising Mitchell’s political good looks (in a vaguely backhanded way, preying on any presumed insecurities about being so old) and outright insults to Eridan.
To Larsa: jars and jars of honey. And one jar of living bees. The note reads I COULD BEE YOUR QUEEN!

From "Nelson" to Jane: edible underwear. Attached is a picture of a lady riding a horse, and the caption says WOAH, NELLY!
To Red: a bottle of chardonnay, with a large and obnoxiously bright red bow attached. Card will read COLOR ME YOU, VALENTINE!
To April: a 1960s typewriter, in robin egg blue. A note that reads PRETEND I'M THE PARCHMENT.

From "Red" to Bradbury: a pair of handcuffs. Red handcuffs. No note.
To Jane: a heart-shaped card that is filled with Shakespearean-like poetry likening her beauty to roses and volcanoes and the sun. A matching heart-shaped box of chocolate accompanies this.

Good. Ideal, even. As Edward smirked to himself, his eyes cut over the list once more. Everything would be arriving in the early hours of Thursday, if only to ensure that Eddie could play spectator for every detail of fallout. The thought electrified his grin. It was a good day, he reasoned, to spend his moments gliding about the corridors. Valentine's. His smirk faltered for a second -- a detail came to mind. Quickly, he scribbled over his list --

From "Felicia" to Deputy Mayor Edward: two dozen floribunda lavender roses.

"Oh my, Felicia, dearest," he murmured. "You really shouldn't have."

As if he didn't deserve it. Lavender and green have always looked dashing together, after all, and he needed some recognition. His golden efforts would surely be unremarked upon, anyway! Can't let the others have all the fun. So confident was he in his exploits, Edward barely paused to consider what repercussions they might have, if anyone discovered his purple-gloved hand. They couldn't, he concluded. Such are the emotions of others, fogged and triumphant over reason.

Comments

OTA...

[retropolis]

Nelson hadn't expected much from Valentine's Day; it was a testament to loneliness for him more so than romance, and even in his less single days it was often only due to badgering on his part that the day was acknowledged at all. He'd go home, have a drink or two, and that would be that. How wrong and naive he was!!

For the most part during the day after receiving his valentines, he remained at his desk, nerve-wracked and flustered. Periodically he'd leave, for a private conversation (however that may go) or to escape for food, but for the most part he kept himself as safely sequestered away as possible.

[enigmaestro]

Like any self-satisfied criminal, Edward returned to the scene of the crime. So intent was he to observe his symphony in motion, that Eddie refused to procrastinate even for the sake of coffee breaks. He was a man eager to examine his creation, a Promethean figure aching to fan the flames. Under the pretense of impending duty, he slithered his way to Nelson's secretarial office.

"Nelson!" Shouted Edward upon entry. "Are you hiding away in here?"

[redlooksgood]

Jane was still hunting down those stupid balloons hovering around City Hall. She also had a man that needed questioning. Something was up or Jane had read him wrong, and she was pretty sure she had been right on with dear ol' "Captain."

Knocking on Nelson's door, she didn't wait for him to acknowledge her as she walked inside his little office, twirling her "gift" around her finger. "Darling, you didn't have to play shy if this is how you really feel."

[aggressiveapathy]

"I don't understand your pre-AIDS innuendo. And the internet doesn't translate old."

The typewriter remained securely at her desk- no matter how weird the day was, that was hers now. She was going to annoy Larsa into looking at her with it. And everyone else alive. The note that was pinned to it however, was slammed down on the desk in front of Nelson as soon as April was in range. It was still facing her, however, as she crossed her arms over her chest. He'd have to read upside down or twist it towards himself, April's helpfulness quota for the day was long since spent.

open; prose to start but i'll match you!

[waiting]

To be perfectly honest, Bradbury had forgotten it was Valentine's Day. Sure, it was just around the corner -- hard to miss with the flowers and the balloon hearts and general holiday-related decor, it was hard to miss -- but he'd had his mind occupied by other things for most of the week. When the day finally rolled around, he hadn't realized what it was until he was greeted by the sight of packages on his desk, earning a quizzical frown until he opened them.

The present from "Jane" earned a sharp bark of laughter, figuring she's messing with him as she always does, the present from "Red" makes him frown quizzically. When he got to the last present, his expression froze for a long moment before flooding with heat. Not a blush of delight, but fury, and his mouth set in a thin line as he swept out the door.

Needless to say, his expression was stormy for the rest of the day, and though he was cordial enough when spoken to, this day of hearts was clearly not a good day for City Hall's head of security.

[redlooksgood]

Jane had come in to get a schedule of Mr. Mayor activities from Bradbury. She hadn't expected the gifts, hell, she had nearly forgotten the day if not for sudden urge to grab a little something for Bradbury. Her gift was funny. This...

She didn't wait to be let into his office, instead practically throwing a handful of heart-shaped balloons at his desk. "There are more. MORE. One or two is funny, this is creepy."

[retropolis]

Nelson hadn't gone to find Bradbury immediately; of the two valentines he'd gotten, one had an especially obvious sender unless there was another ex-Marine working in City Hall security. Even if so, Nelson hadn't met them. Nelson had at first wondered with sharp paranoia that the note -- and the incredibly suggestive accompanying gift -- had been a prank of some kind, though Bradbury didn't seem the type.

So he'd remained at his desk in flustered indecision for a while, deciding how best to address the situation. He determined he should turn Bradbury down, being he was Nelson's boss, but that was a matter easier said than done. There was enough commotion around the office that day that Nelson had to wait anyway for Bradbury to be unoccupied, but eventually he got his moment.

"Erm, Bradbury, I-I think we need to talk about something." He hoped his face wasn't red.

[aggressiveapathy]

There are people in the world who are capable of both knowing when something is none of their business and suppressing their curiosity enough to stay of it due to that knowledge. April was not one of these people. Rick's expression shifted so fast it actually managed to distract her from the weirdness of having a per-historic computer sitting on her desk.

So, of course, she had to go check out his goodie pile. Notes included. Even if she didn't get to comment about them to his face until later in the day.

"Why do you get three."

open;

[viced]

Ostensibly, the Mayor was as normal. Making by just as usual, buried in work, and even though there'd been a reminder or two of valentines day, he actually had forgotten. Sure, he knew it was February 14th, but he'd honestly been too busy to put it together. "Busy", of course, was the name of the game. If his hours had been long before, the past week and more had been borderline bad.

Even he recognized it, but that's what it was. The point, in the end, was that he'd almost entirely forgotten that the day was coming up, and then there was the gifts. The lollipops, those he believed were probably something he could handle. He'd just shrugged it off, the book the same. Weird, really weird, but somehow, they were miraculously missing from his desk quickly enough. Nowhere to be found, but that would be expected from the person who honestly had no fucking interest in either the holiday, or what it represented.

[waiting]

There wasn't any sense beating around the bush; he knew that it couldn't have come from Mitch (the guy had to hire professional grocery-buyers, for chrissakes, the idea of him setting aside the time was downright laughable). On the other hand? The contents of the card were fucking weird enough that he didn't know if he should be offended on his behalf or Mitch's.

Or if someone was messing with him, and if Mitch was in on the joke.

He strode into Mitch's office, tossing the card onto his desk with a hard smile. "If you wanted to apologize, you should've just bought me dinner."

Oh, he knew it wasn't from his boss. That didn't mean he couldn't make him uncomfortable with it, and if there was anything he knew made Mitchell Hundred uncomfortable as anything, it was any trace of human emotion.

[solidorkable]

The past week had taken its toll on Larsa. It was evident that the boy hadn't slept in a few days, but out of the sense of duty that he comes into City Hall. When he reaches his desk, he does see his "gift" from the mayor.

"Odd." He mumbles, picking it up, wondering if this was something that happened on Earth a lot. So, why not go to the source? At some point, Larsa knocks on Mitch's door (after checking if he was free, of course).

"Do you have a minute, sir?"

Open (Let the horribleness begin)

[always_alert]

Red Alert had better things to do than familiarize himself with every human holiday on the calendar, so when Valentines day finally came around, he was understandably perplexed. Sure, he understood the basic concept---a day to celebrate(usually romantic)love--but that was pretty much the full-extent of his knowledge. He knew nothing of how the holiday was celebrated, or even what sort of rituals or behaviors he should have expected to come across.

Understandably, he was a bit thrown off by the gifts he received. Not only because he hadn't known gift-giving was a common practice on Valentines day, but because he honestly couldn't think of single reason why anyone would give him a gift in the first place. From what he had gathered, gifts were given to people whom the giver loved or fancied, and Red Alert was fairly certain no one felt either of those things for him. He was, after all, perfectly aware of how stand-offish, blunt, and unsociable he was. As far as he knew, he had never done anything to garner anyone's affections (if anything, he had probably offended people by avoiding any interaction that wasn't strictly necessary.)

So, having no idea which one of his coworkers gave him gifts or why, Red Alert spent the rest of the day on edge, wondering if someone out there actually... wanted him in a non-platonic way, or if this was just some sort of completely unfunny joke.

[enigmaestro]

Making his rounds, Edward couldn't help himself but take a few extra minutes to oh-so-casually stroll around Bradbury's department. The security detail and intel squad were essential to City Hall's stoic tower, yes, but Eddie tended to associate it all more with Bradbury. Which is why he took particular interest in the fellow's immediate staff.

He had the great opportunity to pass by Red, as he strolled under the guise of a coffee question.

"Good afternoon, there," said Edward. His eyes were alight with interest. "How are you doing this uncharacteristically seasonal Valentine's Day?"

[waiting]

Bradbury hadn't even connected the handcuffs to any gift-giver in particular, and without a note he'd simply assumed they were another prank. He'd been meaning to talk to Red Alert about something else entirely -- namely, his upcoming, entirely unannounced vacation, in addition to informing him that there was a potential Valentine prankster about -- but when he steps up to Red's desk, he's immediately distracted by the sight of the presents, and he perks up a little, grinning.

"Looks like someone got lucky. What've we got here?" Without asking permission, he leaned over to get a better look at what exactly Red had received.

Open!

[deductives]

To the surprise of no one, Sherlock Holmes doesn't really care about Valentine's Day. In fact, he plans on working through whatever festivities the City has planned so he can avoid it completely. He had hoped City Hall would therefore be a viable option, as he needed to look up a few archived documents in the annals of the place, but today would probably be one of those rare days when Sherlock is woefully wrong.

He's glad, at least, that nothing of the shadows that plagued the imPorts for the past week was left as he entered the lobby, but little does he know about what new, if not altogether banal mischief is afoot.

[retropolis]

Only Valentine's Day could work Nelson's nerves as much as this one had by early morning; by the time the afternoon comes around, he's nearly a nervous wreck. He's managed to get through most of the day by keeping to his office, but he's not prepared enough to make it all day; at some point, he does leave -- sneak out, really -- to get himself food.

He can't be sure if it's stress or if it's the fact it has been several hours since he ate last, but regardless he's still in a tense and flustered mood when he returns to City Hall with his food (a deli sandwich, clam chowder, and a bottle of beer). The unfamiliar face catches Nelson's attention, though, and he finds himself walking over before he even thinks about it. A distraction is just what he needs.

"Hello there," he says, friendly but just a little bit cautious. He offers his free hand. "I don't think we've met before, have we? I'm Nelson."

[enigmaestro]

"Oh my," drawled Edward, turning a corner only to catch sight of the tall Englishman. The deputy mayor, after a brief widening of eyes -- yielding surprise -- soon adopted a (perhaps too) wolfish grin.

Oh. He had been wanting to discuss a certain matter with Sherlock, one kept under umbrage. One made of darkness but born of light.

"And to what have we the pleasure?" Eddie derailed his immediate plans, deciding now was the perfect time to speak with constituents. Specifically one constituent. His eyes kept on Sherlock.

open, also late as hell (sorry about that)

[dragony]

[The bothersome thing—besides, of course, the fact that Ruka is already happily enough in a relationship—the other party of whom was celebrating the approximation of a birthday this very day—was very obvious at a glance.

The box, more than a cubed foot, is admittedly not that large to look at, but it's a much different story under the surface. From bottom to top, every square inch is crammed full of candy hearts. Hundreds of thousands of them, probably, if not surpassing a million; Ruka certainly isn't going to take the time to count. She doesn't even like sweets.

The problem?

Still recovering from the ordeal that was Karkat's labyrinth, Ruka's limited physical strength is shot, and the box of candy is literally too heavy for her to move. If she tries knocking it off her desk, the floor will be flooded with the stuff, and she's not that cruel to the janitorial staff; she's pretty sure it won't even fit in a garbage can.

And so, for what time she is near "her" (occasional) desk, the now brown-haired but still eye-patched intern is rubbing her temple, trying to figure out what to even do with this thing.

(She has no intention of calling whosoever has their phone number emblazoned across the outside of the box, but she could probably save these stupid hearts for some mixed-media art project once she's back in school.)

[viced]

[ The Mayor thought the book was, well, weird. He wasn't the sort of person that would regularily confront someone about...well... emotional attachment.

The Mayor didn't do it, and if he ignored it, he could hope it would go away. Ruka, however, was a teenage girl, there was no harm in telling her no, and shooting her down, if that's what this was. He still wasn't sure. Why the fuck was Eridan mentioned so frequently? He wasn't his favorite import, for sure, but it was an odd choice.

He dropped the heavy novel, Jane Austen onto her desk, crossing his arms while he stood over it. ]

Look familiar?

wham bam thank you ma'am

[waiting]

[ He makes it a point to know the people who work in and around City Hall, by name and face if not in person, so he recognizes the girl standing by a box of what seem to be... candy hearts? Normally, on a good day, he wouldn't even hesitate to walk over and help out. Today, though, he's not sure he's in the best frame of mind to be dealing people he doesn't know that well.

In the end, it's the number that he can see scrawled across the side of the box that makes the decision for him, and he frowns and steps over, inclining his head at the box. ]

Need some help with that?

FEBRUARY 19TH

[enigmaestro]

He had been smug all week, having considered his emotionally exploitative exploits a roaring success. The drama! The implicit hilarity! And Bradbury hadn't even shown up to work the past couple of days, that was a cheery cherry plucked. Or squeezed, rather, if Nelson ever figured out what his gift was actually for.

Eddie chuckled to himself, thinking that an incredibly amusing anecdote. He'd have to relay it to Eridan, later.

So there he was, the mastermind of employee misery, sitting pretty at his desk in his deputy mayor office. Suffice to say, he had wholly underestimated the wily nature of his own City Hall staffers: unbeknownst to Eddie, his invisible hand was as transparent as a batsignal against a clouded night. And now came the hour of retribution.

[retropolis]

It hadn't taken too long into Nelson's conversation with Bradbury before he had become rather convinced that, most likely, in fact almost definitely, Eddie had been behind the rather grueling emotional hell that had been Valentine's Day. Nelson had stewed over the fact, trying to let it go, but time passed and he still found himself bothered; increasingly so. Sally's appearance in the City gave him a final push of courage that led him, finally, to confrontation.

Nelson knocked on the door with none of his usual trepidation. "Mr. Nygma," he said. "I'd like a word with you."

[viced]

For Mitchell, he wasn't 100% certain. Actually, he didn't know at all who it was. However, there was only one fucking person who would actually make the insinuation that the valentine he'd heard about represented, and had in the past. Mitchell had spent the five days in between the holiday and now in something of a cold, sharp quiet. Work, again, seemed to be his default mode, but on the side, while he was doing everything else, his thoughts circled and rounded around the puzzle he had.

He knocked on his door, before entering. He didn't wait for a request to enter. Normally, he was a lot more respectful of Edward's boundaries, but at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to talk to his deputy mayor when he had him off his guard. Just in case.

He hadn't even sent him a fucking email as a warning.

"Got a question for you," he asked, striding across the floor with little preamble, his tone just a touch harder than usual. Not cause for alarm, but it was a touch different than his usual tone.

BACKDATED TO THE 14th BECAUASE I'M AMAZING.

[solidorkable]

(Not that he doesn't mind coming into work of course, but there were things that needed to be dealt with. He's here at work and he is focused on doing things. That is to imply that he wanted to forget about the labyrinth. Despite the fact that he came to terms with the hidden fear of failure or even more so, the fear of people he cares for leaving, he's been rather quiet the past few days.

Regardless, it's back to work as usual, is it not?)

[aggressiveapathy]

[At some point in the day, the raccoon that was a 'gift' to April ends up Larsa's desk. It's gained a new accessory, a tiny knife in it's little paws, held up in true 'Psycho Shower scene' stabbing fashion.

There's a note attached to him now, in April's distinctive scribble.

'I know where you sleep.']