Realistic or Modern ❮ 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒖𝒔 ▴ 𝐢𝐜 ❯

[FloatingAroundSpace]

[ private ]
between FloatingAroundSpace and VALEN T.

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Joshua Liao

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Joshua's alarm clock began its shrill beeping at 6:30AM, as it always did. He groaned, as he usually did, and fumbled around blindly on his bedside table to snooze it before pulling his covers up closer around him, shutting his eyes for the lie that was the next five minutes, before his alarm went off again, and he repeated the action at least twice more before his 6:45AM alarm, which blared even more loudly and with the intonation of a siren shrieked across his bedroom, forcing him to admit defeat and sit up, seizing his phone to turn his alarm off fully. He sighed heavily and stared at the blank wall across from him before looking back down at his phone, scrolling to his calendar app and pulling up the day to see what was in store. He paled immediately-- there was a meeting in a little over two hours that he was supposed to be at that was to take up at least an hour of his time, which meant that he had to make sure they had a good rotation in place to cover the hours where he would be stuck in the meeting. As far as he understood, however, Issac Albright was supposed to be there as well, so it shouldn't cause too much trouble.

He threw his covers off, slipped on his slippers, and shuffled into his bathroom, washing his face quickly, trimming his beard slightly, and pulling his hair into a bun on top of his head. He changed swiftly after that into a tank top and jeans, placing his work clothes-- a white cotton collared shirt, black slacks and a matching black blazer-- into his duffle bag, alongside a change of socks and freshly polished dress shoes. He slapped on his watch and picked up the bag, walking into the kitchen and placing it on a stool, busying himself with making a smoothie to throw into his blender bottle to take to the gym that morning. It was all alarmingly healthy, something that Joshua took great pride in and generally horrified any of the men who bothered staying the night after he had been in bed with them. Many of them were impressed that he was able to get up and go about his routine, despite their personally urges to just stay in bed until the last possible second.

Two slices of whole wheat toast went into the toaster, an avocado was mashed, a red radish was thinly sliced, and an egg was fried, over easy on the stove as the blender finished liquefying the variety of fruits and handful of leafy greens that he had stuffed in there. He poured the thick mixture into his Blender Bottle and threw it into his duffle bag before sitting down and assembling his sandwich, cracking some fresh pepper and sprinkling salt over it as well before beginning to eat. He was two bites in when he recalled that he did need caffeine and turned to his coffee maker, dumping in grounds and barely waiting for the coffee to finish dripping before pouring it into a mug and sitting at his seat again, alternating between bites of sandwich and gulps of coffee, completely black.

All to soon, it was nearly 7:30 and Joshua found himself scrambling out the door, heading to the garage and his car, which he drove to the gym that sat between him and his workplace, nodding at the receptionist and a few others that he recognized from his habit. There was a silent comradery between them, potentially helped by the fact that he had slept with a few of them. Which had actually turned out great for both of them, as the next morning it had motivated the both of them to get out of bed and to the gym in the first place.

He finally managed to pull into the roundabout where the Albright mansion sat, straightening his suit jacket and making his way inside with a nod towards the doormen and a flash of his badge. He walked swiftly and quickly to his office, inputting the proper code to be let in, and dumped his bag under his desk where it would remain for the rest of the day as he booted up his computer and glanced over the files that he was supposed to have read over before the meeting, as there was someone new coming in to take over the old CSO. He was rather young, something that grated Joshua the wrong way, and looked like a child, which grated Joshua the other wrong way. Nonetheless, when someone rapped their knuckles on his office door, he sighed, stood up, and walked out, nodding at his boss, Issac, who was smiling at him gently.

"Ready to meet the new kid?"

"No, sir," Joshua responded blandly before falling into step with the other man, whose strides tended to be extra-long for some god-forsaken-reason.

"Be nice to him," Issac said, in an overly-exaggerated tone, eyebrows raised and a sloppy grin on his face. Joshua sucked in a breath and didn't respond.

Joshua opened the door to the meeting room where several other of the daily task force were, all seated around a large, wooden, oval table. As if on cue, they looked up at the same time, and still on cue, glanced over at Joshua once they realized that Issac was in the room, and still, as if programmed together, relaxed slightly.

It was all very creepy.

Issac took his seat at the head of the table, his back facing a solid wall, and Joshua sat next to him, folding his hands in his lap and training his eyes on the door, ever vigilante.

[/div]

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll​

 

[VALEN T.]

hidden scroll + hover over picture

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GIANNI

[div class=text]

mood

"let's yeet this wheat"

location

issac newton's mansion (conference hall)

interactions

maor, almost everyone in the meeting room

outfit

xxx

[div class=img]

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At exact five in the morning, when the curtains are still drawn and the blinds are still covering the frosty windows, shielding the interior from the tranquillity hanging by icicles outside - a little too amenable to being broken by the most timorous of breezes: it's exactly at five in the morning when Gianni's phone first lights up where it's laying on the bedside table. And only moments later, after a silent buzzing, starts ringing, piercing through the silence clogged deep in the walls' pores, solidifying overnight.

On any other normal day, he would've groaned, thrusting a lazy arm out of the duvet to turn it off, tap that orange Snooze button to give himself a couple more minutes of sleep (that's his intention each time, and he always ends up bouncing out before the second alarm.) This time around, there's no one to turn it off, turn it down because the bed covers are already thrown, the bed is already empty, only lined with the warmth of a body that's supposed to be there, tossing and turning, trying to swat the languor away.

While the phone continues to ring in the bedroom, there's another muted sound spanning the expanse of this living area as well: water droplets striking marble tiles - faint but consistent.

Gianni sighs when he finally hears the boisterous iPhone alarm blare through the bathroom door, fingers tangled in the roots of his hair, kneading the strawberry-scented shampoo into his wet locks. Strawberry - a little basic but he enjoys the muted the smell it leaves throughout the day; and despite being an everyday-convenience store brand, it makes his hair soft and fluffy and much easier to style.

Some of hot vapour condenses against the crystal walls that separate the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the rest steams the area up with a thick, humid fog that sticks to his skin, raises temperatures to just below a sauna - exactly how he likes it.

On any other usual day, he wouldn't be spending this much time pampering himself before getting a start to the day; his habitual morning routine consists of waking up at five in the morning, taking a flash shower to wake himself up, rushing down to the empty gym for a good hour or two of cardio-exercise before sprinting back up for another shower, then after having a good breakfast (which consists of sugary cereal on good days because he can't bring himself to fix himself something proper) he heads out for work. Today is different. It wouldn't have been if he fell asleep on his normal time and hadn't spent half the night staring at the ceiling, too nervous to focus on sleep. He'd texted Maor - his mentor, his idol, his hero (two truths and a lie, take a guess which is which) - at ass o'clock in the morning:

4:37 AM

Are you awake?

He'd watched the three oscillating dots on the bottom left of the chat room for the entire seven minutes it took for the older male to respond:

Maoui

Well, I guess I am now.

What is it?

4:44 AM

4:44 AM

Can't sleep

Maoui

Count sheep.

4:45 AM

Fuckin bars

4:45 AM

No but srsly ):

Maoui

Give yourself a break, kid. You'll do fine.

4:45 AM

Never has Gianni ever wanted to rebut an argument as desperately as he'd wanted to in that moment. But what if I don't, he'd wanted to ask, But what if. I. Don't. Bring the notion of Gianni Cayden Garcia being anything less than perfect, anything less than fine on a good day and he'd look at you funny because that's simply not possible. Perfection, despite having been lectured on the whole concept of it by Maor countless times, is something he aspires to reach, aspires to be. "The only thing you're going to be, if you keep up with that mindset, is disappointed." Gianni took that statement like the challenge it was. And it has had and will continue to have its own consequences: on one hand, it motivates him to work harder, work longer, work smarter, but on the other end of the scale you see a man set up for and simultaneously afraid of failure.

He isn't exactly sure what Maor meant by give yourself a break so he took the initiative to fill in the blanks himself. That's what lead him to where he is now: drying his hair while humming some familiar melody - though he can't quite pinpoint which song it is. He'd gotten out of bed only moments after his conversation with Maor ended, deeming it futile to even try to squeeze in a few minutes of extra sleep since his alarm would go off fifteen minutes later anyways.

He walks back into his tepid room, towel loosely tied around his waist. Shower? Check. Now the next task... He throws his wardrobe doors open, revealing pretty neutral sets (with a few exceptions, of course) of clothes neatly hung on the metal racks ...Picking an outfit, he sighs, reaching for the three he'd shortlisted last night, and momentarily contemplating asking for Maor's opinion too. He shakes that thought aside almost as quickly as it'd brewed because, Maor isn't always going to be around. He also tosses two of the clothes hangers on his unmade bed, shifting them into the smart-casual category instead of the semi-formal one he's opting for, which leaves the third option as his only option: a simple black suit with a crisp white shirt with a hidden flyover placket. It doesn't quite make the bold statement he was originally going for but, It has to do.

It does.

Partially, at least, because the moment Gianni walks out of his apartment, the sudden drop in temperature chills him to the core. Even Maor quirks a brow at his attire when he reaches the basement parking where the older man's already waiting with his sleek, black Porsche Panamera: "You sure you're going to be okay in just that?" Gianni only grunts in response, sliding into the passenger seat. Not like you're wearing anything all that different from me, he wants to grumble, and he would've if it held any amount of truth to it: his suit is a lot thinner, giving him a more dapper appearance, and it's certainly not meant to be worn during the winter. At the end of the day though, it's his fault for not reorganizing his wardrobe according to the season, and now he must suffer.

"Just don't overthink it, alright?" Maor pats his back as they approach nearer to those wicked oakwood doors. He nods but thinks this is an absolute blasphemy: why does the Albright mansion have to be so close to Headquarters anyway? Sure Mr Albright is the one funding for it, but the ride here was too short for Gianni to collect his nerves, compress them in a tiny shoebox and store them away (even though he'd had... the entire night and the morning to do so.) "Three, two, one?" The male questions and Gianni, once again, can only nod - some occult weight on his chest preventing him from forming any words right now. Maor reaches for the door handle and the younger intakes a sharp breath, smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt. "Three—"

"—You son of a bitch!" He hisses under his breath when this traitor pulls down and pushes on three!

The snake simply sends him a wink and a coy smile, sauntering into hell - Where he belongs, Gianni rolls his eyes - with one of his hands casually stuffed into the front pocket of his slacks. "Good morning, Mr Albright, sir!" He greets with a flashy smile, gesturing for everyone to remain seated, at ease, and Gianni thinks he may have underestimated the significance of this position just a smidge. "Joshua," he raises his brows, an amusing lilt in his voice. I'll show you fucking amusing, you—"I won't be taking too much of time, I promise." Oh shit. "Firstly, however, I'd like to thank our kind boss for having enough faith in me to choose a successor for this post." Gianni silently snickers behind him, the and letting me off the leash, finally! evident in Maor's light, airy tone. "I understand that some of us," he turns to the rest of the people present with one open arm, motioning to everyone, and Gianni takes a moment to digest everything:

Issac Albright is seated at the head of the oblong table, and right next to him—Oh, how he was dreading this moment: finally meeting Joshua Liao (which isn't even his real name, apparently!) in person. He's heard... too much about this man; about how competent he is, how he's one of the best agents Maor has ever seen in his life, "And that's saying a lot considering how I've worked for the government as well." All the praise came with a warning label though: "If he doesn't like you then you're screwed because everyone else trusts in his judgement." This is the man Gianni needs to be, and he quotes in Maor's words, not his own, "Butter up to without making it too obvious."

"That some of us may not understand the reasoning being my choice and hey, I don't expect you to either!" Maor continues with a quip, breaking Gianni out of his trance and having him wonder if the man is always like this or if he's being particularly more couthy today to help Gianni feel more involved, more comfortable. "Now I should probably..." Maor glances back at him, stepping aside to present Gianni with the entire stage at the other end of the table.

He bites the fucking bait, clearing his throat before starting with a small, amenable smile. "Good morning," he bows his head just slightly, hands clasped in front of him. "It's a pleasure to be here today an—Thank you for having me, Mr Albright," he nods to the man sitting on the opposite side, and then his eyes sweep over the others as well, "And thank you for giving me this blind chance. I will do my best to not disappoint!" He concludes with that, and that only.

Until... Maor's leaning in and whispering, "Your introduction?"

"Oh shi—" He bites his tongue, "Oh, I'm so sorry, it slipped my mind entirely! My name is Gianni Garcia, twenty-eight, and I will be taking over the position of Mr Albright's chief security officer starting from today! Thank you for trusting me!" He bows again, this time a little deeper.

Maor chuckles from beside him, "Good kid, isn't he?"

They all stare wordlessly at Gianni with expressions he can't read, and he can't decide whether that's worse than having hushed whispers going around or not.

"Now!" Maor claps his hands together once, "Let's go around the table, shall we?" A softly-uttered comment directed at Gianni: "This is my team, by the way—" and then his attention is diverted back to everyone, "Everyone introduce yourselves, c'mon, don't be shy!" One of the golden-haired women sitting closer to their end, slides her seat back, standing up with a gentle smile - much like the one Gianni had been wearing before. "Anastasia, great! Why don't you start us off?"

They do go around the table and everyone is polite (so far he hasn't received any particularly acerbic stares so that has to account to something, right?) They all have their respective roles on the team - Ana, the blonde from twelve people ago, was in charge of security architecture, and in her job was, in her words, "I handle all the cool spy gadgets. And the surveillance system. Lots. And lots. Of cameras." So far, he likes her most out of everyone.

Now the only people left are—

"Joshua?"

[/div]

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

Joshua Liao

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The door opens and two figures walk in. One, he recognizes immediately, in an instant, practically by the way the door opened-- quick and efficient, with no room for fucking around, except for maybe just a smidgen, if it made things even slightly amusing. Tall, graying, with a smirk that, if he wasn't Joshua's heterosexual coworker, he would have probably fucked.

Second person, he didn't recognize and his fingers twitched on his chair, ready to grab the handles to push himself up while he kicked the chair out from under Issac and his hand wrapped around his gun to fire. However, it was clear by the way that Maor eased into the room that this was someone he knew, and he didn't seem to be in any hurry either, which meant he was relaxed. Probably the replacement, then, and after taking a breath to calm his fight reflect, he allowed himself to actually take in the man.

His first thought: He looks like a child.

And not necessarily in a harsh, derogatory way, more as an observation of the person before him, with the lack of facial hair being the main reason why Joshua had had that thought. He looked more like a high-school student than a twenty-something that was supposed to be skilled enough that he could slide into Maor's old position without batting an eye. Sure, Joshua had been involved in the process, but to a limited degree-- he had been given the manila envelopes with every potential recruit and gone over their skill set before providing Maor with the top three that he believed were able to take over his position. To avoid any sort of bias, he had not been given name, gender, or a photo of the individual. It made him wonder if he had chosen the person in front of him, though logically he knew he had to have. Joshua commanded respect from everyone within the security team, including the shit-eating-grin-bearing, ex-government-official who was waltzing out of his position.

The kid-- now he was labeled "kid" in Joshua's head, which was probably not good since they were supposed to be on equal level-- didn't command much presence, partially hidden behind the much larger and prominent man, the one they recognized. Joshua would have greatly appreciated it if he had been told ahead of time that this was where they would be introduced, but, well. Maor did things his way more often than not.

The introduction was stilted and awkward to watch and Joshua was grateful that he had perfected the ability to be perfectly stone-faced as he watched the kid tell them his name. He had an accent, but his English was spoken fluently and without much pause, which meant that he had probably learned the language early enough that it was natural and had spoken it long enough to not have much doubt.

Then introductions start and Joshua has to physically restrain himself from braining himself on the table-- he hates introductions. He hates doing them, he hates hearing them. If people are important, give him their information ahead of time and let him make an impression there, then put them in front of him so that he could have all the facts at his disposal. Perhaps that was just the bodyguard in him, always wanting to know more, always wanting to understand what was happening before it happened, his instinct to plan out every second of Issac's life making it difficult to go with the flow after years of doing it.

Nonetheless, people introduced themselves with a little enthusiasm, not so flatly as to be boring and rude.

Then of course, it was his turn.

Joshua blinked slowly at the kid-- his name had already slipped his mind, he'd have to go look at the file and memorize it (see, this is why he ought to be given files, so he can actually recall names and not look like an ass. Or anymore of an ass than he naturally was).

"Joshua Liao, I coordinate personal bodyguards for Mr. Albright and am in charge of day-to-day activities," he said in a flat tone, bordering on bored if people didn't know him and know his flat tone meant he was trying to see how people would react.

"And I'm Issac Albright," Issac said cheerfully, causing Joshua to bite his tongue to avoid wincing visibly at his cheery tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. ah, Garcia, did you say?"

[/div]

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll​

 

[VALEN T.]

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GIANNI

[div class=text]

mood

"hey, maybe this isn't too bad"

location

issac newton's mansion (conference hall)

interactions

maor, issac, joshua (barely)

outfit

xxx

tags

FloatingAroundSpace

[div class=img]

[/div]

Joshua Liao... Gianni already knew this: there's not one in the trainee quarters who hasn't heard of Joshua before, and it isn't only because of his position as Mr Albright's personal bodyguard; there's a certain aura of... captivation surrounding him that calls for deference, respect. He has yet to experience, first hand, what Joshua Liao is capable of but if the tales that wander through the hallways hold any amount of truth to them, and if Maor's words can be accounted for (the latter of which he would trust over his own) then despite being decently skilled in his craft, Joshua Liao can teach him a few more tips and tricks.

One thing - the only thing - that has his eye twitch in circumspect is Joshua's indifferent tone. He doesn't expect Joshua to trust him on a whim right from the start when they haven't exchanged two proper words but the fact that he's here on Maor's recommendation, he may have been unconsciously expecting the man to be a little more... amiable. That's on him though; him and the fact that he isn't quite sure how the social aspect of this job, this position works (but then again, Maor had said that he and Joshua are good friends. And now that he's thinking about it, hadn't Maor also said, "Don't let his aloof demeanour put you off. He's a little bit of an asshole sometimes." Maybe. Or maybe he's simply making things up at this point, to console himself.)

Gianni's response is akin to the answer he's received - curt: a nod in Joshua's direction before he's turning his attention Issac. Who is remarkably more amenable than his counterpart. A little too enthusiastic for Gianni's liking but that's his job, right, as the honcho? To have his employ want to work for him. Gianni nods again, albeit this time, he feels his countenance relax more, and—oh goodness, don't tell him he had a rigid expression on when Joshua was speaking before. "Yes, sir," he confirms, "It's Garcia but that's ahh... a little too formal for my taste?"

"He's on first-name basis with everyone back at HQ," Maor chimes in, "It's endearing, really, everyone loves him. And trust me, Issac, you will too." Fuck Gianni being on first-name basis with people, is no one going to comment on Maor referring to his boss as Issac? A quick glance behind tells him no one else seems to find anything off-putting about it either, and he has to wonder what kind of relationship Mr Albright has with his team. Gianni knows he's a good man - Maor wouldn't be working for him otherwise - but there's a fine line between being a good man who signs his workers' paychecks, and being a good man who has an obvious camaraderie with his personnel. The latter of which isn't necessarily a bad thing in his mind, it's just odd in the sense that... it's not something he's used to?

Well, you better start getting used to it then, says a tiny voice at the back of his mind. Says Maor in that eyebrow quirk he sends Gianni's way.

"Yes," he agrees with an airy chuckle. If Maor's pushing him to start getting comfortable with the change of pace, he might as well take the bait and let himself be reeled out of his comfort zone. "I'm plenty confident in my abilities but it was still a surprise the day he called me to his office for a talk—" Oh, he remembers having been so nervous that day, and he tells Issac just that "—That was the first time I actually felt nervous in all the time I've been here. Thought he was gonna chew me out, really." No point in hiding it, he believes. "He's been a great mentor to me and I hope that I can... do that justice in my time here, hm?" He peeks over at Maor, keeping his cadence calm and chipper - which proves to be a much more easy task than he'd initially thought (especially after moving Joshua to the far end of his peripheral vision.)

Maor snorts unceremoniously, rolling his eyes as he squeezes Gianni's shoulder, making him break out into a cheesy grin. "Such a sweet talker, isn't he? I'm telling you right now, Issac, Marianne is going to love him." Marianne is... Issac's wife? No, no, ex-wife, yes. The topic has his smile faltering for an instant, eyes flitting over to Issac to catch any hints of awkward tension. He spots none which is again, odd because they just brought up his ex-wife? Maor should've briefed him on Mr-Albright's-workplace etiquette too because no one else seems to find a problem with this. "Anyways, Joshua," the conversation turns, "I still have a few more things to wrap up with Issac here so why don't you... take Gianni around the office floor? Show him his room, yours, all the important places. Give him a little orientation."

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