[ PRP ] New year, new padawans (Oliver, Mark)

[Zoobey]

In the cafeteria, in a corner, was a sleeping homeless guy.

Well, it was actually Mark, in his Jedi robes, propped up on what he thought was a cool instructional Jedi Academy recruiting booth. He had fallen asleep while propping up two flattened cardboard boxes together, and the sign just read "TRAINING NEW PAD" with no other context.

Most people were giving him a wide berth, and the rest were just flat out ignoring him.

Grey Dragon

 

[Grey Dragon]

If Oliver had been on his own, he might have avoided Mark too. He wasn't exactly afraid of the guy, he was just keenly aware of the man's reputation for silly, unpredictable behaviour.

Yet minipets didn't much care about reputation. The pathling Oliver was walking was a relatively recent arrival, and the cafeteria was a good place to socialize the little creature. It wanted to approach everything with a careful curiosity, and when the grey deer approached the cardboard boxes, Oliver didn't immediately see the harm in it.

Curious blue mist oozed from the minipet's skeletal eye sockets as it stared at the boxes. Then as though desiring a better vantage point, it hopped up onto the boxes. And immediately fell through the top with an awkward bleat of confusion.

Zoobey

 

[Zoobey]

The ill-conceived cardboard boxes toppled over with little to no effort, revealing more boxes underneath filled with empty beer bottles and cans that also began to topple over in a rather well-orchestrated series of clings and clangs, scattering all over the floor.

While this did not wake Mark up, the last vestiges of box falling on his face and nearly asphyxiating him seemed to do the job. The Death assistant sat bolt upright, half-folded box still on head, and blindly looked around. "Yeah cool you're hired," he slurred, before collapsing back onto the floor.

Grey Dragon

 

[Grey Dragon]

Through all of the noise and sudden chaos, Oliver scrambled frantically to seize the tiny deer before it could make a bigger mess of the situation. Finally the clanging of glass bottles and cans settled and the stares from across the cafeteria returned to their food.

"Ah, s-sorry about that!" Oliver squeaked, and was echoed by a soft bleat from the little creature in his hands. He paused, and only then noticed the state of the man he had accidentally woken up.

"Um, sir... a-are you, uh, okay?"

Zoobey

 

[Zoobey]

Loud snoring followed for quite a couple of minutes before they stopped and there was an interrupted snort and then a series of coughs. More bottles clanged everywhere.

Mark sat up again, scratched his hair, and placed his pilot cap back onto his head, a couple of cockroaches escaping from it in the process. He held up one mobile phone, blinked, put it back in his pocket, and then took out another one, fingers poised over the screen. "Name, date of birth, gender, and current salary."

Grey Dragon

 

[Grey Dragon]

The pathling in Oliver's hands curiously watched the cockroaches scurry off to who knows where. Perhaps it wanted to eat them.

"Um, i-isn't that stuff all in my file?" The freckled intermediate asked hesitantly. Surely the Death division assistant would have access to all their files, and Oliver never really paid much attention to how much he was paid. All he knew was that it covered enough junk food to keep him well fed and sufficiently caffeinated every month.

The little deer flailed it's legs in midair, so Oliver set it back down on the floor where it went to sniff a toppled beer bottle.

Zoobey

 

[Zoobey]

Mark stared at Oliver, disbelief written entirely on his face. He hadn't even noticed the minipet yet because he was too busy perfecting his judgemental face. "Your Jedi profile. You're applying to become a padawan right, you need a Jedi trainee profile, otherwise I can't even begin to like, enroll you in the academy."

Despite the request for this newfound information, Mark just began to fill his iphone form with N/A under every single line.

Grey Dragon

 

[Grey Dragon]

This time Oliver was truly taken aback.

"Jedi profile?" He asked, his expression shifting from unsettled confusion to true bewilderment. While he had seen his share of movies before the island, it was mostly bad zombie movies, or creature movies like Jurassic Park. At some point in his life he had seen Star Wars, but clearly it hadn't been often enough to prepare him for this moment.

"I-I don't have one," he admitted, "I d-didn't think I was, um, applying for anything, it's just the, um, deer jumped into your boxes... Which I'm very sorry for, I'll help you clean up all these, uh, bottles and stuff!"

Zoobey

 

[Zoobey]

"It's cool," Mark consoled, putting the phone away, "I already registered you - I'll dock the two-hundred fifty buck registration fee from your next pay period."

It took him around five attempts to stand up, but he finally did, and just in time as the remaining vestige of box finally collapsed in a neat pile, more roaches scurrying out. The Death Assistant did a few exaggerated stretches, and then pulled his custom lightsaber almost magically from between two bottles. "Sure yeah training starts now, etc etc, pick up the bottles and lemme know when you need the list for the Costco run."

Grey Dragon

 

[Grey Dragon]

"R-registration fee?" Oliver choked out, dismayed but not entirely surprised. One didn't argue with the higher ups on the island though, even if they were not making sense AND taking money out of one's pay.

He stepped away from the roaches, and the pathling attempted to follow them as far as it's leash would allow.

"Um, a supply run? Just me? Uh... d-don't you need a membership or something for that store?" More confused questions as Oliver went to folding a box back open, and then retrieving bottles up by the armload. The little deer eyed the light sabre, it's own eyes glowing and misty.

Zoobey

 

[Zoobey]

Mark helpfully tried to add more bottles onto Oliver's arms as he spoke. "Dude, I have a membership, we got this covered. Just go in and say that I'm your I dunno, cousin or something." He sifted in his pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to his new padawan. "And just read and follow the list there, you can't go wrong." The only thing the list said was 'LIST OF THINGS TO BUY' in really poor handwriting.

At some point the Death assistant noticed the minipet, and prodded it a few times with the tip of his shoe away from his lightsaber. He didn't want it melting on top of it or anything, custom lightsabers were expensive.

Grey Dragon

 

[Grey Dragon]

Somehow Oliver was able to juggle everything. Perhaps wrangling armloads of wiggly minipets back into their cages after playtime was just training for this moment. The Life division intermediate dumped the entire armload into one of the boxes just in time to have a note shoved into his hands.

He squinted at it.

After turning it over, and upside down for good measure, he realized there was no list. Either that or there was a trick to reading it, like those old invisible ink tricks with lemon juice or UV ink or something... To be honest, he wouldn't put it past the eccentric Death assistant to make things difficult like that.

"U-um, are you sure you didn't forget anything, o-on your list?" Oliver asked, watching the minipet edge away from the shoe. It was perhaps the most innocuous way he could think of to either alert Mark to the lack of items on the list, or get him to reveal his secret for reading it. If there was indeed a secret.

Zoobey

 

[Zoobey]

"It says a list of things to buy on it, so yeah we're good." Mark probably meant it literally. Probably. He finally noticed the minipet. "You probably shouldn't bring that they tend to do weird stuff. The last one someone brought mutated into like five minipets before it exploded."

He paused, as if remembering something very important. "Wait a second," was this about the list? Please say it was about the li - "On a scale of one to ten, how crazy do you think you are?"

Grey Dragon

 

[Grey Dragon]

"I'll drop it off at the labs before we go," Oliver replied, somehow feeling like that would be the last normal thing he did all day. The youth scooped the little deer off the floor once again, it's little feet dangling in midair. It seemed perfectly okay with this treatment.

"Should I meet you at the lightho-" Oliver was in the process of asking when Mark suddenly went still. He paused, waiting, hoping the thing Mark forgot would suddenly give sense to this situation. He was disappointed.

"Ah, n-not crazy at all!" The freckled teen stammered in response, shaking his head frantically. "I-I'm not, uh, i-interested in doing any sort of crazy things!"

Zoobey

 

[Zoobey]

Mark's face relaxed. And then grimaced suddenly. And then relaxed again.

"Cool," he finally said, as if nothing had happened at all, "I'll meet you at the lighthouse in ten. Bring the list. You can buy some stuff too with your own money if you want, I don't really care."

The Death Assistant gave Oliver Jedi hands as he mysteriously left (walked) out of the cafeteria.

Mark would also arrive at the lighthouse fifteen minutes later than scheduled, popping out of an existing portal, eating a Tim Horton's donut from one hand and an Ice Cap in the other. "Dude, did you know these are like one thousand calories combined?" He said it like it was a good thing.

Grey Dragon