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 Posted: Tue Oct 30, 2012 3:45 pm
He wasn't sure why he was doing this. In fact, he was relatively certain that doing this would classify as what their no-longer-alive leader would have called "stupid" and/or "idiotic" and remind him, none-too-subtly, that he was, in fact, pathetic for even considering that this was possible in the first place.
But Gale, who had spent the last several days wallowing in a grief so strong it had made him feel physically nauseated, needed to do something. Anything. And although this was not initially what he had thought would be the thing he did, now that he was here, it seemed to be the right course of action. His conversation - for lack of a better word, since it had not exactly been a fight, though it had started out as one - with the new trainee, Jake Cross, had brought to light a number of things that Gale had not even known he realized himself.
What are you fighting for? Jake had asked him.
What drives you? Ariane had pressed.
Gale had not known that the answers he had spoken then were, in fact, the truth, truer than he had ever thought. His heart still ached, and each day without Bix felt longer and longer, the pain growing instead of ebbing away, but spending all of his time inside of his house did little to ease the ache.
And so he had decided upon this course of action. Strange, since he had never considered it before, especially since both Marcus and Bix had teased him about it many times previous and he had always brushed them off, or gotten embarrassed.
Yet here he was. And here he would go.
The office was easy to find, but not easy to enter. Gale stood outside of it, willing himself to just do it, to take that step, and to let himself, for once, be pushed forward to where he wanted.
He did not know if it was possible - in fact, he was relatively certain it wasn't - but nothing would be accomplished if he did not try.
Lifting his head, he straightened his shoulders, set his mouth in a firm line, and knocked on Mark's door.
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Posted: Wed Oct 31, 2012 12:00 am
Mark was having the best time of his life. It all started when the other leads were way too busy with that Council Weird Death Stuff that they totally didn't have time to promote him, so of course, he took it as a great chance to promote himself. Considering that they weren't surprised at all when he visited them to look all Division Leadery and Stuff (he was even trying out his new pose okay, feel the swagger man, feel the swagger), it was of course a great sign for him to continue doing... whatever it is was he was doing.
The office - where if a certain former Death Leader knew the current state of would have ejected Mark so far, it would make his own death by Red pale in comparison - was currently littered with what looked like half of the Life Division's computers. There was no doubt that some of it had involved massive torture and interrogation, cuz that was what Death Division did (though Dwight would have his own story about how his bro betrayed him, even after they filmed Runic Style together). The aforementioned self-appointed brand new 'Death Lead' had somehow also managed to move an extremely swanky couch up from the Mist Lounge. They didn't need it anyway, God, soft couches were bad for boobies anyway.
By the time Gale knocked, all the Death hunter would see was a small crack in the half-open door, several lava lamps, a strobe light that if stared at for too long would cause strange epileptic fits, a few humming Runic objects being charged on a desk, and a lifetime's supply of Red Bull.
Oh and one mint condition Hulk '92 13" collectible action figure still in its packaging.
The 'Death Leader' himself was wearing a set of oversized fuzzy bear headphones, staring intently at one of his three screens as he typed madly.
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Posted: Wed Oct 31, 2012 5:27 am
There was no answer. Gale was beginning to doubt coming here, but considering that the door was partially open anyway, and he could see a sliver of bright light coming through the otherwise dark room, he squared his shoulders and gave the door a little tap, pushing it further open.
What.
He was not entirely certain if he had walked into Mark's office, The-Office-Formerly-Known-As-Caelius', or if Michael Jackson had had come back from the dead and dumped half of his belongings everywhere.
Were those lava lamps?
And then, of course Mark was...was.... - inwardly Gale rolled his eyes, but outwardly he sighed, pushing back his hair away from his face, and pushed the door of the office completely open, throwing caution to the wind and stepping completely inside now.
He reached out, tapped Mark on the shoulder, and then made a motion towards the headphones (which were huge and fuzzy and looked as though they belonged to someone living in the Arctic - someone with terrible taste) he was wearing.
"May I talk to you about something, sir?" Gale half shouted, wondering if Mark could hear him through the fluff.
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Posted: Wed Oct 31, 2012 11:22 pm
What was poking him- was that a Hobbit?
Mark squinted as Gale attempted to talk to him through the Death "lead's" fuzzy polar bear headphones. He stared at the Hobbit blankly, as he had not quite yet mastered the art of lip-reading though it was on his to-do list along with learning underwater basket weaving and the ancient Shaolin art of King Fu.
They seemed relatively distressed which probably meant that someone blew up something somewhere again but it wasn't his fault this time, and it probably required his delicate, gentle touch to fix it. Well, he was done with that! He was a division leader.
"Well," Mark sniffled, without taking his headphones off, music still blaring through them, "You can tell Gandalf that this wizard has his own agenda now. His own agenda!"
A sign behind Mark thoughtfully said, now that Gale had moved closer: 'Welcome to the lair of Mark the Awesome! I require payment upfront for my services. That's dough, moolah, cash okay. Cold, hard cash, God do I have to spell everything out he'
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2012 7:54 am
Clearly Mark couldn't understand him.
Clearly Mark couldn't even hear him.
Clearly Mark's brain was nowhere it was supposed to be.
Gale's expression turned stonier at the "Gandalf" comment - his heart gave an unpleasant twinge, thinking of Bix and his persistent nagging that "Gale be the Gimli to his Legolas" and the fake beards stuffed into his closet - but he breathed slowly, evenly, and tried to push past that, push any thoughts of Bix out of his head.
"Mark," said Gale again, but considering that he could now hear the blaring music coming from the ridiculous headphones, it was more than a little obvious that Mark had no idea what was going on. A little voice in Gale's head said "Does he ever?" but Gale pushed that away as well.
His eyes flickered to the sign behind the Division "Leader."
Well, then.
It was not as if he were going to use the money for anything else. Giving a small sigh, Gale reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, extracted a generous wad of cash, stuck the wallet back in his pocket, and thrust the bills (which were American and altogether confusing; he had no idea, really, how much he was giving to him) towards Mark.
"I need to talk to you!" Gale bellowed.
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2012 10:39 am
Mark caught on just as Gale took out the moolah and shouted really loudly (and kinda grumpily) "I NEED---- YOU".
Okay, okay, in his defense, he knew this was going to happen, it was the price of being so ruggedly handsome and awesome and a division leader, but he was ready for this: it was a pity about the you know, flat thing. Mark quickly turned around, the other direction, back facing Gale as he prepared himself. Slowly, dramatically, the swivelly chair turned right back around as Gale was treated with:
The smoulder.
"It is a long, cold night," Mark narrated, dramatically, "But Mark the awesome was ready for this. He knew after this experience however, the two of them would never be the same again." As the Division 'leader' narrated, he gestured for Gale to deposit the bills on his desk, giving the Death Hunter another sexy glance, because those were fat hundreds over there okay.
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2012 2:59 pm
W-why was he looking at him like that.
What was he doing.
Mark.
Mark what are you doing.
Looking at the other with a Highly Suspicious Face, Gale carefully set down the bills, folded his arms across his chest, and then took a giant step backwards away from Mark, trying to figure out why he was talking about himself in third person.
"I wanted to ask you," said Gale, still slightly disconcerted by the look Mark was giving him. But he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and continued. "About the position of Death Division Assistant."
There. He had said it. Now to see what would happen - and hopefully it wouldn't be anything...strange.
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2012 5:35 pm
"Gale seemed reluctant," Mark narrated rather dramatically, his chair squeaking a bit as he leaned closer, "But Mark was no virgin, semicolon, with his expertise he would be the guiding hand, teaching the younger to wield him properly, like Dumbledore with the elder wand, dot dot dot..."
The bills were most happily pocketed, one could almost see little dollar signs light up in the Death "leader's" face. Mark was all serious now, trying to go for deep low voice, "And then Mark said comma, quotations, why Gale, you can be anything you want. Of course you can be the Death Division assistant to my leader, I'll give you a very special mission, end quotations."
Well that should be enough roleplay to satisfy the kid, and Mark wasn't going to sell himself short now that he was a division leader. "To continue this roleplay," Mark narrated, "Please insert another couple of hundred dollars."
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2012 6:32 pm
Gale was beginning to think that coming to see Mark had been a Very Bad Idea. For one thing, Mark was still talking about himself in third person. For another thing, he seemed to be narrating...something.
Awkward.
But what brought it down to a screeching halt was the word roleplay. Gale stiffened, his expression turning to an angry one, fists clenching together at his sides.
"Mark," he said, enunciating clearly. "I'm not roleplaying, or whatever it is that you're saying. I wanted to ask about becoming Division Assistant - for real. Now that Caelius is gone, you're the new Division Leader. That means there's a spot open for the position of Death Division Assistant."
There was a pause while he took a breath, and then said firmly, "I would like to have that position."
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Posted: Thu Nov 01, 2012 10:48 pm
All right, clearly this roleplaying thing was the wrong approach: all right Mark, time to break out the serious business.
What would Caelius do?
"Yes," Mark tried to straighten himself up, dust his shoulders a bit and give Gale the most condescending look he could manage - which sort of looked like the Death "leader" had some sort of hairy nostril problem, "I am the division leader and you will have to listen to me. And yes, I am indeeeeed looking for an assistant." Pause. No wait this wasn't Caelius enough. "A <********> Assistant!"
Excellent. He stroked his chin, and then thought better: now-deceased former Death division leaders didn't stroke their chins, they posed moodily and threw people out of windows for no reason, no reason at all. Man, he was internally so stoked, he must look like, super intimidating now. "And if you want to be my assistant you will have to complete these tasks, of which I will ask in an impossibly short time for no reason, for I am a total a*****e and douchebag."
Mark leaned a little closer, his chair squeaking a few more times. "So, new division assistant, are you sure you can handle this extremely important job?"
And then the bishie glare thing that his now-deceased boss always did. He made sure to pose dramatically and then run one hand through his hair.
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Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2012 6:30 am
Gale wasn't sure what exactly Mark was trying to do now. If was attempting to look intimidating, it wasn't quite working; the vibe Gale was now getting from him was Man Who is Constipated.
He leaned back, arms folded across his chest, and eyed the "Division Leader" with a certain amount of suspicion and mild bemusement. "...of course," he said flatly, in response to the "a*****e and douchebag" comment, and then bypassing that, and the hair thing (what on earth..?) he gave a small sigh.
Well. Here goes nothing.
Or everything. It's either one or the other.
"Yes," said Gale firmly, although a bit warily. "I'm sure of it."
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Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2012 3:29 pm
This was freaking amazing. Internally, Mark was squealing like a fanboy who had just gotten his hand on a mint collector's edition 1977 vintage model of the Death Star, only this was a little less rewarding, just a little.
A moment wondered where he thought perhaps this was what Caelius actually was like on the inside: thankfully that moment passed very, very quickly.
"Okay, well," He resisted the urge to jump up on the table and say something to say like maybe 'PWNAGE': that would come later, it wasn't every day that you got paid to boss people around this was the best job ever, "I need you to like, sign it. You know," he randomly looked around and pulled off a piece of paper half-eaten by the printer, still smeared in ink, "Sign right here. That will make like super official and stuff."
So, stoked.
"You also gotta take like, the sworn division leader assistant vow of secrecy secret initiation thingy."
Man, he always wanted to say that. And by always meant, he really wanted to say that and now could.
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Posted: Fri Nov 02, 2012 3:39 pm
It was probably a Very Good Thing that Gale could, in fact, not see into Mark's head at the current moment.
Or any moment.
He wondered, suspiciously, why his new Division Leader was looking so very...happy...and whether or not he could be concerned. Warily, Gale reached out to take the paper, glancing over the messy and slightly crumpled sheet.
"What is this?" he asked, scanning the document. "You want me to sign this..."
He trailed off, eyeing Mark beadily.
"What sworn division leader assistant vow of secrecy secret initiation thingy."
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Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2012 12:01 am
It was a good thing Gale hadn't stared too hard at the crumpled paper as the headline of the paper currently wrote: Things to accomplish this week as Division Leader.
While the title wasn't bad, theoretically, the content was very notably questionable, a list of blotched out requests, including "Paper Kites Will Replace Messenger Pidgeons" and "Train A Team of Intelligent Dolphins to Carry Explosions". The last article on the page, right above the blank space where Mark had asked Gale to sign were the words "Miniskirt Monday".
"I am so glad you asked," Mark was overjoyed everything was going according to plan, "The sword division assitant secret vow of secrecy is a secret act spanning centuries. As my to-be division assistant, you must... um.... you musr complete three great tasks created by me to prove yourself worthy of this honour. Now, young padawan, are you ready to partake in the carrying out of these very important tasks?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2012 6:49 pm
Gale had attempted to read the paper, but considering that it was hurting his brain just talking to Mark, he decided he would rather keep what little brain cells he had left and put them to use deciphering what his new division head was actually saying.
"...sword...division?" Gale repeated, nonplussed, handing the paper back to Mark, a messy sort of scribble in the area where Mark had asked him to sign. It might have said OeIa Gamlq or perhaps Seho Oendg.
Or maybe it actually said Gale Gentry and Gale's handwriting really just sucked.
"Er," he said, wondering what exactly he was getting into. But then he sighed, rubbed his forehead, and said, "Yes. Yes I'm ready to partake in these...tasks."
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