Chapter 90: The Sketch of the Scoundrel
The alcove created by the Semicolon was safe, but it was also a stage. At 19:00 Cycles, as the "Long Sleep" of the hiatus dragged on, the Author grew bored. And in the Bureau of Cosmic Alignment, an Author's boredom is a 100% hazard.
A Giant Silver Pen-Nib—sharp enough to split an atom and dripping with "Inky Malice"—descended from the ceiling. It didn't write words; it began to scratch. With frantic, jagged strokes, it doodled in the margins of the alcove, giving form to a mess of overlapping lines and charcoal smudges.
"Commissioner!" Assistant Yue buzzed, her optical sensors struggling to focus on the flickering shape. "WE. HAVE. A. 'MARGINAL. INTERFERENCE'. THE. AUTHOR. IS. 'IDLE-DOODLING'. IT. HAS. CREATED. A. 'ROUGH. SKETCH'. OF. A. VILLAIN. HE. POSSESSES. 100%. CHAOS. AND. 0%. CHARACTER. MOTIVATION."
The Scribble from the Edge
From the ink-stained floor rose The Scoundrel. He wasn't a solid character; he was a mass of Aggressive Hatching. His face was a series of angry zig-zags, and his hands were claw-like scribbles that left permanent ink-blots wherever they touched.
"I have no backstory!" the Scoundrel shrieked, his voice sounding like sandpaper on glass. "I have no tragic past! I am just a 'Whim'! And a Whim has no rules!"
He lunged at the Department of Human Trajectories, his sketchy fingers tearing through a "Life Path" for a teacher in Novus Aethel. The trajectory didn't just break—it turned into a "Squiggle."
"My city!" Ao Bing cried, still 7.5% matte. "He's turning the architecture into 'Abstract Expressionism'! He's de-stabilizing the geometry!"
The 7.5% Draft
The Scoundrel was dangerous because he was Incomplete. Logic didn't apply to him. You couldn't reason with a character who hadn't been given a "Conscience" or a "Vocabulary."
"Pip! The wrench! Give me the 'Final Polish'!"
"I can't hit him, Boss!" Pip yelled, swinging their shovel-sized wrench. "He's too 'Loose'! Every time I swing, he just shifts into a different 'Rough Draft'!"
The Muse tried to fire a "Spark of Inspiration," but the Scoundrel simply absorbed it. "I don't want to be 'Inspired'!" he cackled. "I want to be Deleted! And I'm taking you all with me to the 'Wastebasket'!"
The Semicolon Definition
Ne Job realized that the only way to defeat a Doodle was to Define him. A sketch is only dangerous as long as it's "Rough." Once it becomes "Final," it has to follow the rules of the page.
"Junior! Get the 'Ink-Fixative'! Assistant Yue, deploy the 'Anatomy-Guidelines'!"
Ne Job didn't attack the Scoundrel. He used the Semicolon to create a 7.5% Structural Overlay. He fired a beam of violet light that projected a "Grid of Proportions" onto the flickering Scribble.
"You want to be a character?" Ne Job roared. "Then you will have Weight! You will have Perspective! And you will have a Point!"
The Final Line
The Semicolon's energy acted as a Narrative Cage. The jagged lines of the Scoundrel began to smooth out. The chaotic zig-zags of his face were forced into a recognizable—and very surprised—expression.
KA-CHUNK! Ne Job stapled the Scoundrel's feet to the "Logic of the Floor." The violet light turned the charcoal smudges into solid, permanent ink. The "Whim" was now a "Minor Antagonist (Expended)."
The Scoundrel, now fully realized and looking like a very confused Victorian pickpocket, blinked twice. "Wait... do I have a motive now?"
"Your motive," Ne Job said, adjusting his hat, "is to sit in the 'Archive of Failed Ideas' until the Author finds a use for you."
The Archivist's Log
The Scoundrel was escorted away by two Security Semicolons. The room returned to its (mostly) polished state.
LOG: CHAPTER 90 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Doodle contained. Pacing restored.
NOTE: I've realized that 'Unfinished Business' is literally the most dangerous thing in the Bureau.
OBSERVATION: A sketch is just a wish. A character is a commitment.
P.S.: Junior is trying to draw a 'Sentient Sandwich' in the margins. I've confiscated his pen.
The Muse leaned over his shoulder, her hair back to its electric-neon blue. "You gave that Scribble a soul, Ne Job. Or at least, a very nice set of hatch-marks."
Ne Job looked at the Semicolon. It was glowing with a sharp, definitive violet.
"I gave him a 'Period,' Muse," Ne Job said. "Now, why is Assistant Yue sounding a 7.5% alarm and why has a Giant Silver Feather appeared in the Lobby, and why is it currently starting to tickle the Great Mainspring?"