Duskwing
Major
"What the slag happened?"
Posts: 848
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Post by Duskwing on Jan 22, 2012 20:30:39 GMT -5
Month 6, Week 2, Day 4, open to anyone at Rent-A-Minion
"...lie low for a bit, Guido. Good job dealing with the warehouse thing, but stay home for a while. People don't need to be reminded that youse was around for that. An' don't go hang out at dat bar, either," the voice at the other end of the phone patiently reminds Guido Ala, in the long-suffering tone of someone who is used to working with Mr. Ala's.... limitations.
"Yeah, yeah, I got dat. I'll just get somethin' outta town for a week. Dat make you happy?" Guido replies to his cell phone's earbug as he finishes adjusting his tie.
There's a long sigh from the phone. "Don't be too obvious about it, Guido. You suddenly take a Tahitan vacation, it's gonna look suspicious. You don't want 'em even thinking about you."
Guido rolls eyes at his bathroom mirror, and combs a loose lick of hair back before putting on his suit. "Dat's why I'm gonna pick up a temp security job. If I'm looking for work, I obviously didn't get paid for doin' nothin' that didn't happen anyway, see?"
The voice from the phone sounds strained, as if from a sudden migraine. "Fine, Guido, you do that. Just stay clear of your usual." The phone beeps, indicating a disconnect.
Guido sets his hat on his head and mutters, "Slag, wish he'd quit talking to me like I was stupid or something. Gets old." Finally satisfied that he looks good enough for a job interview, the burly Mafioso heads out his apartment door.
His downstairs neighbor's old Toyota conveniently occupies the space nearest to the street exit. Guido frowns at the bent left rear fender. "Guy oughta learn to drive. He's got no respect for a good car."
About five minutes later, he's finished hacking the console and drives the battered old Toyota cross-town to a certain special temp agency. Officially, it's named "Special Support Services Recruiting Agency"; unofficially, it's been nicknamed "Rent-A-Minion, Inc". Guido Ala knows that they always have good-paying work for someone who doesn't ask questions, and doesn't answer questions from the wrong people, either.
The adjacent parking deck is moderately busy, but Guido finds an empty handicapped slot next to the elevator and parks his unwitting neighbor's borrowed car. After getting out, he adjusts his tie and hat one more time in the side mirror, and heads for the elevator. Fifth floor.
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jan 22, 2012 21:25:36 GMT -5
There's already someone in the elevator: a veritable mountain of hunchbacked, pug-faced muscle man. He takes up practically half the space in the little square room, positioned smack in the center of it and looking about as likely to move from that spot as a twenty-ton boulder, so that anyone who wants to ride with him has to squeeze in to one side of him. This is especially unfortunate, as the man reeks like someone who hasn't bathed nor washed his clothes in days and may have acquired some of those clothes from a dumpster, all mixed in with what smells suspiciously like the wonderful aroma of cat piss.
Unlike Guido, Bane Crusher is most certainly not dressed to look good for a job interview. Instead he has a pair of worn, mismatched sneakers, stained grey sweatpants that somehow manage to look too big for him, a greasy t-shirt, and a ratty jacket that's definitely too small for his hulking shoulders. One of his jacket pockets is wiggling.
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Rook
Minor
Avatar by Tai
Posts: 301
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Post by Rook on Jan 22, 2012 21:34:06 GMT -5
"Hold the door, please," comes the heavily-accented call from across the parking lot, just as Guido is getting into the elevator and the door is closing. The tone is very feminine, and obviously from someone used to getting her way.
The woman walking toward the elevator is a tall brunette in a black pantsuit and flats, who nonetheless manages to convey the idea of wearing a flowing evening gown and heels by the way she walks. She adjusts her glasses as she squeezes into the elevator between the two men.
OOC: Posing Guido with permission.
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Duskwing
Major
"What the slag happened?"
Posts: 848
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Post by Duskwing on Jan 22, 2012 22:57:03 GMT -5
A sensible person, on seeing Bane, would realize he needed to take a different elevator. Guido Ala has never been convicted of possessing common sense. He's never even been suspected of it. He's going to the agency, and he's taking this elevator, and he doesn't care which man-mountain minion is occupying it right now. He squeezes in and stabs the button for floor 5, even if it is already lit.
He flares his nostrils as the smell hits him. "Slag, buddy, use some o' dat advance pay to buy some soap, will ya? Whoa, getta load of the dame!"
Guido openly ogles the brunette woman as she squeezes in between the two of them. He reflexively adjusts his dark gray and purple pin-striped tie and tries to straighten up a bit more.
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jan 23, 2012 17:55:07 GMT -5
Bane gives Guido a lazy, baleful look and a halfhearted growl, but doesn't otherwise react to him, except to place a massive hand protectively over his wriggling pocket. The woman gets even less reaction from him, and he glares impassively at the elevator doors as they close for the malodorous ride up to the fifth floor.
His pocket might let out a mewl, but Bane chooses that moment to clear his throat.
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Rook
Minor
Avatar by Tai
Posts: 301
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Post by Rook on Jan 24, 2012 21:34:02 GMT -5
'Get a load of the dame?' Really? The woman allows her lip to give the slightest disgusted curl and she glances at Guido as if to say 'I am so out of your league you should be ashamed to be on the same planet as me.'
Ah well. May as well do what she's here for. "So, you . . . gentlemen are here for the Recruitink Agency, da?" she asks as the elevator moves upward. C'mon, lets hear those speech patterns. Throw in a mannerism or two to observe and it'll almost be worth the assault on her nostrils.
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Duskwing
Major
"What the slag happened?"
Posts: 848
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Post by Duskwing on Jan 24, 2012 22:10:33 GMT -5
Guido is oblivious to intimidating looks from mundane humans who aren't pointing artillery at him, unless they are his boss or his consigliere. Her question is another matter; it puts him on his guard. The consigliere told him to keep a low profile, and here a strange dame is asking nosy, not very smart questions. He looks suspiciously at the woman.
"I don't know what youse talkin' about, lady," Guido growls with a distinct Bronx accent as he straightens the lapels of his dark blue suit. Deepen the tone and add a bit of flanging and voicebox reverb, and his voice might seem familiar.
---- The 5th floor isn't that far away, so on Guido's next turn, we'll arrive, okay?
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jan 24, 2012 22:21:34 GMT -5
Bane still doesn't bother to speak, choosing instead to give what is probably an affirmative grunt. He actually responded to the question, though, he must be feeling social!
OOC: Sounds good!
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Rook
Minor
Avatar by Tai
Posts: 301
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Post by Rook on Jan 25, 2012 20:34:33 GMT -5
"Of course not," the woman responds, surreptitiously glancing over at the elevator's larger occupant.
"They certainly grow them big in . . . wherever you are from."
Thank Primus for deactivatable chemoreceptors. Rook cannot imagine being in an enclosed space with the big guy with actual human nostrils.
OOC: Fine by me.
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Duskwing
Major
"What the slag happened?"
Posts: 848
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Post by Duskwing on Jan 25, 2012 21:00:07 GMT -5
The elevator bings softly and the door opens, revealing a well-lit, very bland modern waiting room with comfortable-looking furniture. This being the 21st century, there are terminals all around the edge of the room for job-seekers to check listings or sign up with the agency. At the far side of the room, a receptionist guides eager job-seekers to terminals, or waves them through another door to interview rooms... or the inner office.
Guido steps out of the elevator and glances around the room. He gives the woman from the elevator another suspicious look, goes over to a terminal, and pretends to look up job listings. He's tense though, seemingly waiting for a signal to jump up and do something else entirely.
----- Note: if you have previously worked for the 'special resources' branch of the agency, you should have an ID card you can just show the receptionist and she'll scan it and wave you into the inner office. Said ID card also opens the electronic lock leading to the inner waiting room with the really interesting job listings and *very* secure terminals. If your biostatistics and appearance doesn't match up with the owner of the special ID, the receptionist is... surprising capable.
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jan 25, 2012 21:23:40 GMT -5
"Used to be bigger," Bane mutters sullenly to the woman. He hates being stuck in this tiny fleshy body, though at least it's bigger than most of the other tiny fleshy humans.
Shuffling out of the elevator, he squints around at the waiting room, not sure what exactly he's supposed to do now. Grubbing around in his pocket - the one without the squirming lump - he pulls out a rumpled little card that some guy on the street had passed to him, saying he might be able to find suitable work. Bane hates work, but even he realizes that you need money to get by in the human world, and threatening people for cash will only get him so far.
Trudging over to the receptionist, he shoves the business card at her and says, "Somebody said I should come here."
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Rook
Minor
Avatar by Tai
Posts: 301
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Post by Rook on Jan 26, 2012 21:29:09 GMT -5
"Oh really?" the woman all but purrs at Bonecrusher. "Do tell." The things Rook does for his faction.
She strides straight up to the desk when the door opens, allowing Bane to shoulder past her and go first. She's hardly going to try and stop him. She simply demurely places her business card down next to his in front of the receptionist.
"I'm here to see the man in charge. I'll wait," she says before taking a seat, crossing one leg over the other and picking up a magazine.
The card says her name is Margaretta Pimenov, because Rook does like his little jokes.
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Duskwing
Major
"What the slag happened?"
Posts: 848
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Post by Duskwing on Jan 26, 2012 22:14:03 GMT -5
Drat, Mystery Woman Who Might Be Undercover Agent seemed to know what was what here. No point in boring himself looking at listings for bilingual typists and underwater warehouse workers. Guido Ala casually sauntered over to the receptionist and slipped her his contractor ID card.
He expected to be waved on to the inner office waiting room; he did not expect the receptionist to look at his ID, look attentively at her screen, look at the man-mountain, and then eye the business card Mystery Woman gave her, lips pursed. A message quickly typed. Response. The receptionist looked up, flipping a lock of bright yellow hair out of her eyes. "Mr. Ala, Ms... Pimenov, and," she looks at Bane, "you, sir, should go right in and take the hall to your right. Mr. Arthur wishes to speak to you all personally."
She handed back his ID; Guido stared at her blankly. What who what? Then he shrugged. "Huh. Long as it's a payin' job, the pope can talk to me personally for all I care." He headed through the indicated door...
--- The long hall on the right will lead to a medium-sized conference room.
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Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Jan 27, 2012 13:24:01 GMT -5
The seats in the conference room are empty. But there are two people inside already. One, a man in a blue business suit, facing the window, back turned on the group as they come in. He does not react to them, instead paying more attention to the phone in his hands, talking with someone on the other end of the line in a different language.
The other a young, smiling woman with glasses on her cute nose and a tablet clutched in her hand, her free hand waving the group in. "Please, take a seat or keep standing, mister Aldrin will speak to you shortly. Would you like coffee, tea, or a soda?" The man scrapes his throat, causing the poor young thing to jump a little, her smile turning a bit more nervous. "Oh! And company policy dictates that I must inform you that any non requested and needlessly destructive display of meta-abilities will be met with adequate force and the informing of the appropriate authorities. Including, but not limited to MCU or SSSPR Security."
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Post by Bonecrusher/Bane Crusher on Jan 27, 2012 19:33:19 GMT -5
Sorry 'Margaretta'. Bane hates woman, and he hates flirting, and isn't inclined to give anything more than a dismissive grunt. He makes a similar noise to the receptionist when she directs him to the conference room, but he obeys without a fuss. After several days stuck as a human living and sleeping on the streets with nothing to eat but scraps and bullied meals, Bane is pretty keen on not messing up this opportunity.
Especially since he has more than one mouth to feed.
In the conference room, Bane squeezes himself into a chair that wheezes sadly under his weight, removing his jacket and placing it carefully on his lap. The jacket mews. He clears his throat and glares at everyone else in the room.
"...Soda." Of the many human things that Bane hates, soda isn't quite one of them. He might even... like it. Just a little.
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