OKAY

The inscription underneath the moose head mounted on the wall read: "IN MEMORIAM OF LENNY THE FAITHFUL MOOSE. He thrived outside cold weather and got dead and gone in the snow. We've mounted his head on the wall of this humble abode to honor his legacy."

The story behind the moose head was an incredibly sad one, so said the owner of the house, who was currently away in vacation somewhere in Poland - for six months now. The current renter of the house, the interviewer, had no idea what happened to him. Even with all the datamining and GPS-ing that OKAY had to offer, nothing turned up for Mister James Green's friend Duke. The last instructions Duke gave to Green were to "keep the wallpaper incredibly Victorian-era," "watch out for trespassers, specifically the ones that don't like animals with antlers," "don't hoard things in the basement," "read all my books on wildlife and taxidermy," and "keep the place boring - that means NO friends or acquaintances staying overnight."

It was an odd place for an interview, moreso with that giant moose head on the wall that kept staring forwards. Maybe that was all that was odd about this place. Everything else was drab and bland like Duke had wanted it. The Victorian-era wallpaper had enough stripes to not be an eyesore, the fireplace was crackling, there were bookshelves embedded in the walls, and there was a typewriter that also doubled as a USB keyboard for an incredibly archaic gaming computer in the study. Okay, it wasn't that bland. Green thought the embedded bookshelves and steampunk-ish keyboard were incredibly rockin'.

Green, a short, pudgy man with dark skin and an olive suit, had just introduced himself to the interviewee just moments ago, shaking her hand with firm respect. He hoped that she didn't mind the drabness of the place, as the owner of the house wanted to evoke a sense of abandonment, nostalgia, ennui, et cetera. Green didn't really know what Duke was aiming for; all he knew was that Duke was just plain weird when it came to nostalgia.

"Now, then," Green began, sitting in a pale olive recliner. "Let's get down to business." He pulled out a stack of sheets from the briefcase on the coffee table in front of him. His fingers dug into the individual sheets, prying corners open to see what contents were relevant. He stopped looking after a few seconds, then put the papers down on the table. "First of all, Yvette," he continued, looking across the desk towards the interviewee, "how did you hear about 'the Franchise'?"

Yvette found the place where she was to have her interview, eclectic, to say the least. The giant moose head was disconcerting as it seemed to stare at her with its great blank eyes. But somehow it seemed to work with the wallpaper and odd-colored furniture.

She was quick enough to scan the surroundings, though when she met the interviewer, Mr. Green, she kept her attention on him. She shook his hand right back, firmly and slightly grateful her hands hadn't decided to sweat spontaneously with nerves, as she took a seat opposite him, crossing her legs at the ankles, as she laid her hands on her black suit pants. Her red and black striped blouse was one of the more formal ones she had, which gave her a clean-cut appearance without being overly formal.

At the first question, she smiled and swallowed back her nerves. Relax, she told herself, just be yourself.

"Well, actually, I heard about you from Nathaniel Sico." She smiled a little at the memory of running into the man being chased by coffee mechs. "We met at the coffee shop I've been working at for the past year or so, when he extended an invitation for me to come, er, check you out, I suppose. I found it interesting that there was a company that existed solely to help people using...non violent...methods." She glanced at the moose head as if that had anything to do with it. "And...I would like to offer what I can to help along those lines."

Green looked up from scribbling some notes on his small notepad. "Ah...you have met our founder in person! And he even has recommended you to us. That Mr. Sico, he knows who's got potential. Tell me, under what circumstances did you meet him? I was told about his caffeine incident, though not from you. Go ahead."

Yvette nodded. "Well, he had just entered the coffee shop and when I greeted him, he asked me for the strongest coffee I could make. I made it for him and once he seemed to recover from that, he told me a little about what had happened. I'm still not sure why they were after him, but apparently how I had helped him--that I had helped him--had gained his attention and, well, approval." She looked down at her hands. That was after she had told him about her ability and she hesitated. "I...I suppose it was because he thought I could aid the 'franchise' in a positive way with my...ability."

"Your...ability." Mr. Green pointed his pencil to the next empty line on the paper. "Interesting. Tell me more about this ability you have."

Yvette cringed inwardly, although she knew this would have had to come up. And as far as abilities went, it wasn't the worst. Not by a long shot. "Well, I don't know what you'd call it, really, but I can sort of tell when something good or bad is going to happen to someone else."

She licked her lips which had suddenly gone dry. "At the coffee shop, it tends to happen when they order their coffee--or any drink I have to make or mix up. If they get a pastry it's sometimes hit or miss. When, Mr. Sico ordered his coffee, I could tell that something bad was going to happen after I handed it over to him. I think it was preluding to his car getting damaged. I don't usually say anything, especially if it's good luck that I think will happen, but sometimes when bad stuff comes, I...I have to make a conscious effort whether or not to tell them." She paused for a beat. "Mostly because I'm not sure if my telling them will affect whether or not that bad thing happens."

Good luck and bad luck powers. Green paused writing, his attention fixed on Yvette again. "Interesting. I will come back to that incident later, Yvette. I want to know a bit more about you. For starters, how did you come to get your current job?"

Yvette nodded and went with the flow of the questions, exhaling a little bit of a sigh as her hands relaxed at her sides. "Well, um, after graduating high school, I needed something to help pay my way through college. I love the smell of coffee and how relaxing the environment is at a coffee shop, when it's not breakfast, noon, or dinner time," she added with a smile. "I got it because they were hiring and I'm a good worker. I keep the place clean and tidy up after myself and others."

She thought for a moment. "And I like how I get to help people fix their needs. Even if it's just for a few hours at the start or end of their day, I get to offer them something that helps lift their moods. For the most part." Granted most of that happened after they had finished their drinks, and that was usually after they had left the coffee shop. "Before long I made friends with the manager and the owner of the shop and they let me choose my hours, so that's a bonus. Although I probably spend more time there than anywhere else...." she trailed off, bringing her hand up to her chin to think about that. Then shrugged. "I don't mind it though--I rather look forward to it."

"I see you are quite dedicated to your job," Green commented. "And, if I may ask, what do you plan to do once you get to college? What kind of major do you want to get, what field do you want to specialize in?" He overheard the tuition part; the pay for a few missions would probably be enough to cover whatever expenses she had, probably for four years at a prestigious university. Mission payouts were highly lavish, he noticed. Green meant to take the issue up with Central Core administration, but in his continuing daily bustle, forgot.

Yvette nodded at Green's comment before he was asking her what she'd like to do in college and after. It wasn't really a hard question, but it was one that took some time to get her thoughts in order.

"Well, I like helping people and I was considering social services or psychology, but I want to do some good and interact with people without them needing to come hunt me down. Or barging in on them when they don't want it. I don't want to force myself on people--if you know what I mean," she added with a shrug. "But it'd be nice if they could feel comfortable coming to me for help and even better if I could provide that help."

She looked down at the floor for a moment, thinking. "I like to be challenged. Not impossibly challenged all the time, but day-to-day stuff that shifts and changes and challenges me; keeps me thinking and problem-solving."

Green 'hmmmed', scribbling some more in his notepad. "I see," he commented. "You've a very visible drive to help others. I like that."

He paused for a few seconds, his eyes darting towards the entryway to see if more of the security forces were coming in for the day. "More about you, then," he resumed, shifting his eyes back towards the interviewee. "Do you have any siblings? If so, what are they to you, and you to them?"

Yvette paused as her siblings came up, but she wasn't hesitant about talking about them. "I've got four siblings, I'm the second oldest after my brother Xander. Then there's Kaitlin, Sarah, and Matthew. We get along alright. I've always looked up to my older brother--he's at college now, working on his Masters degree in accounting--and I know my younger siblings look up to me. We're pretty close as families go. Xander even comes back on holidays to spend time with us." She smiled fondly at the memory.

"I see everything is quite alright with your family," Green assured Yvette. "Friendship, camaraderie, family; that's all very important. I admire that you value them; I admire that you reach out to make connections as well.

"Ma'am, I would be jumping to conclusions at this point if I told you that this job was the right one for you. Thus..." He shuffled through a thin stack of college-bound papers. "I am not done asking you all I've wanted to ask you yet. For instance, I am extremely curious as to-"

"Mister Green!" A soft, middle-aged male voice coming from outside rang out. "Your package is here!"

Green turned to the source of the noise, calling back: "Drop it off here, Marley!" He turned back towards Yvette. "Sorry, ma'am. I was informed that a package of mine was en route to this house today. Anyways, I'm...I hope I'm not being really intrusive about this, but I am really curious as to how you first discovered your ability."

Green paused, his face solemn. It was after he had finished his last sentence that he realized that Marley would burst in at the most inopportune time and probably embarrass the woman.

Yvette flinched as a voice rang through the house and Mr. Green answered in kind. Oh well, it was nice to know he was human after all. Though the question he asked made her pluck at her hands. How had she discovered her ability? She had to think about it.

"It's always been a part of me," she began softly, "so I didn't realize it was an ability until someone pointed out that my 'gut feelings' were unusually accurate. I labeled them as gut feelings for a while, but when I reached high school, they became more...than just...feelings."

She shuddered at the memory of high school. It was probably good she hadn't had anything stronger than good luck or bad luck fortunes that she dealt with, otherwise the school would have probably been burned down, flooded, flattened, or any other manner of destroyed.

"Those I didn't particularly like ended up losing their homework more frequently or getting bad grades because they couldn't concentrate when the exams came up. My friends, by contrast, tended to do better. But that could also have been because I was--am--a studious person and I choose my friends carefully."

Strange, Marley hadn't come inside yet to interrupt the interview. But no matter; Green listened attentively to the interviewee. When she had finished, he scribbled a line or two in his notes and gently folded his hands.

"So it seems," he commented, "that long before you started serving coffee, you could...subconsciously, I must say, manifest these good and back luck powers."

He turned his head towards where Marley's voice rang out earlier, and saw a dark-skinned man garbed in blue urban camouflage, straps and buckles leaning against the wall, with a small brown box around his arm, watching silently. "Marley!" Green said, half startled. "I didn't see you there."

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," the Franchise security guard apologized. He set down the package and slid it across the floor with a solid push; the package landed almost behind Mr. Green's seat.

"That's alright, Marley," Green responded. "No harm done. Continue your shift."

The guard left as noiselessly as he entered. "Right, sorry about that," Mr. Green said, bringing the package closer to his feet. "Anyways, yes. To what degree do you think you have control over these powers?" With that question asked, he turned to Yvette for an answer.

To what degree did she have control? Yvette had no idea. "Well, for it being an ability that's random by nature, I suppose I have as much control over it as one could have. I can't dictate which luck happens--but then I haven't tried to manipulate it intentionally."

She paused, as if just now coming to that realization, because it hadn't occurred to her to try before now to manipulate it. "I...don't think at any rate, you need to worry about my losing control over it. It's not a...big ability like something else might be--like fire or water or something."

She eyed the box that had been slid across the floor. Maybe she could use this opportunity to prove herself? She hesitated briefly; this wasn't like pouring a cup of coffee and feeling the power pour from her fingertips. No. To actively initiate the ability was something altogether.

"I understand, ma'am." Mr. Green reached for the box with his right arm, and felt a slight tension in his shoulder release. "Ah, yes," he sighed. "that was a rather good stretch that came out of nowhere." Indeed, this was the first time in a few days that his right shoulder hadn't been sore. He didn't think much about attributing it to Yvette, but...

"Ma'am," he continued, picking up the box, "I think I've asked you enough questions and I've gotten a sense of who you are, what you have, what you want to be." He quickly shifted to his writing utensils. "And so...

"Why should we, the Overwatch, the Franchise, hire you as a Freelancer?" Mr. Green felt as though Yvette had answered this question already, but just in case, he posed this one.

Yvette swallowed, noting the box. Whatever the good luck twinge had been, it was gone now. She'd have to work on actively using it--but that could wait for another time when she wasn't so...tense.

Mr. Green's question came as no surprise, and she was quick to answer it. "Because, Mr. Green, I want to help people using my gifts and talents as I am able to. I think, of anyone, the Franchise would allow me the infrastructure to do the most good and place me where I am most needed. In turn, I can benefit the Franchise by upholding the peace and fixing whatever has gone wrong. And...if I might be so bold...we can both grow with this opportunity--me with my ability and the Franchise with it."

She held her breath as she waited for his response. This wasn't something she was going to take lightly; not if it meant securing a future for herself. And really, how could she not want to partake in the Franchise? It was the perfect opportunity to do good. And do it well.

"Well done, Yvette."

Green nodded in approval, his hearty smile showing. "You are indeed qualified for the job. Just from your kindness alone, and your desire to grow and help others, I can see you approaching our job at the right angle.

His smile disappeared, replaced with a determined concern. "That being said, we're not done yet. Though you have that desire, you must also be open-minded as well, because, well, the Franchise is a worldwide organization that deals with a lot of stuff. We aim to help other people in every part of the world we can. We must never lull in our efforts; we must always be vigilant. This means, Yvette, that, once you accept the position of OKAY Freelancer, you will be exposed to a whole different variety of situations across the world. People who need your kind of help are abundant, but the situations will vary. A lot of missions are just small time things, and, if you want, you can opt in or out of them if you please.

"But your voluntary desire has gotten you the position, and we expect you to continue this voluntary desire to help others. This means, and please take my words very seriously, that many missions, many freelancing jobs, the ones a step up from the small time ones, can result in injury or death if one is not careful. Am I clear so far, ma'am?"

Yvette exhaled in relief, a smile crossing her face at Green's approval. Though that smile faded when he explained the types of assignments. Serious once again, she nodded. Injury was usually part and parcel for most jobs, but death? Accidental death and dismemberment were usually mentioned in passing for most jobs though very rare. In this case, however, she had a feeling it was less than rare. Especially if Mr. Green was going out of his way to say so.

"Yes, sir, you're very clear. I will be careful on every assignment I take." And she wouldn't be reckless if she could help it. For her sake. For her family's sake. For the Franchise's sake. "Thank you."