( in a moderate amount of talk and rumor, particularly among that of junior officers, McGillis Fareed is said to be many things: among them, that he is serious and meticulous in the tasks set before him. Isurugi had considered these ideal characteristics in a superior officer, accepting the appointment of aide-de-camp as a matter of esteem rather than a challenge he must handle.
unfortunately, Isurugi had failed to anticipate staff retreats; the upper echelons of Gjallarhorn and the elite of the Earth society, one and the same.
a first day meeting — business on the brigadier general's part — involved a yacht. the experience was not dissimilar to Vingólf, and at this point, accustom to colony (and Vingólf) climate control, Isurugi would prefer it. the bungalow islands that make the resort are hot, sandy, and plagued by the likes of Iok Kujan. his current insistence is the gravity of team building exercises, an escape room or a murder mystery, some combination of the two. Isurugi's attention is wane. he can only hope someone, in fact, dies.
behind the brigadier general, always a respectable distance, Isurugi watches a pair of birds. they balance each on a single foot: a piece of fruit, given or stolen from the bar hut, clasped in the other. Isurugi imagines the cut of fruit is the size of their stomach. the leftmost bird, its feathers more vibrant than the other, drops its share then mouths — beaks? at the other's. ) Greedy, ( Isurugi admonishes.
in the distance, as though to agree, a roll of thunder announces itself, a promise to relieve Isurugi of his current misery.
under the tropical sun, the exposed planes of Isurugi's skin have turned red, rashy along his forearms. the slightest motion disturbs the resultant sensation, tight, cooked, like one of the grazing birds meant for everyone's dinner. the reapplication of sunscreen slips everyone's mind, although the only indication Isurugi is flagging is the shadows beneath his eyes, somehow deeper than usual. )
[ McGillis' childhood is not one that lends itself to nostalgia. Between the grueling hunger and the physical abuse, he really didn't think that he'd ever find a part of his past to romanticize. It is only now, on this Seven Stars Council mandated vacation, that he remembers a good thing about being 8 years old: he could murder people anytime he wanted. God, how he wishes that he could just raise a chair and bring it down over somebody's head. Preferably the head of Lord Kujan, who is the only person who seems to be enjoying this resort to the fullest.
But murder is frowned upon in high society, and McGillis remains with no choice but to retreat inward, letting Iok's travel schedule lecture wash over him like water over the sandy beach. He'll find out what horrors the next days hold soon enough, what's the point of listening to what will only cause him dread?
So he glances off, towards Isurugi who exudes the same bone-deep exhaustion that McGillis hides inside. They've spent all-nighters in the office that left them looking fresher than this. Trailing Isurugi's absent gaze further, McGillis gives his first small smile of the day at the birds. He's always like avian life, and seeing different species from usual is maybe the only benefit of having come here.
Once the first drop of rain falls onto the table, Iok finally slams his hands down and announces an hour of downtime before dinner. McGillis has never risen faster from a table. He rushes to Isurugi's side, eager to get out of here and take the back route to the hotel, avoiding any further conversation with their travel companions. ]
I see you've decided the fauna is more charming than the good Lord Kujan. I cannot blame you.
( Isurugi waits for the brigadier general to pass, then follows, only a requisite number of steps between them. the comment speaks for itself. Isurugi is professional, a matter of character and survival both, and technically... working. silky resort sheets and a cold shower are calling his name.
a conversational "mm," acknowledgement. ) What about you, sir?
( at least to Isurugi, the brigadier general seems to appreciate birds. he had caught the brigadier general's smile, however brief and small. )
[ The air is getting cooler now, with the rainclouds gathering above them, and McGillis can't help but think that even the sky has had enough of this farce. ]
I would choose birds over most people.
[ The way Iok's robbed him of the absolute last of his patience is certainly lending itself to speaking a bit more frankly than he usually might. A bit lighter in tone, he adds: ]
With no offense to the people, I've just been an ornithology enthusiast since childhood.
Birding? ( a glance to the side, tropic foliage Isurugi can't identify marking their path. at a distance, the islands are beautiful — water clearer than those surrounding Vingólf, white beaches, everything green, arresting in a way images of Earth will never capture — but this close, Isurugi supposes he is merely a colonist from space, disinterested. ) ...it must be quiet. ( eyes on the brigadier general: ) It's unfortunate that you couldn't make the time to indulge yourself, sir.
( rather than subjecting him to all manner of the very rich and very annoying. )
[ Of course 'quiet' is the first attribute that comes to Isurugi's mind. For a brief moment, it makes the corners of McGillis' mouth curl upwards. If nothing else, he's not completely alone in his misery here. Without Gaelio to vent to-- He doesn't finish the thought. ]
Such is the nature of work retreats - 'work' never stops being a defining factor.
[ How nice it would be, to be one of the Seven Stars members tenured and also old enough to have an easy excuse to refuse their attendance. And how unfortunate for an upstart like McGillis that he still needs to accumulate respect and trust.
He turns and meets Isurugi's eyes. ]
You don't look exactly rejuvenated by the experience either. My apologies.
[ Now that is an unusual expression on the man. It would be more charming if it wasn't for the attention it draws to the alarming red of his companion's skin. Now that McGillis is really looking, it's worse than he'd anticipated. Did the shade of the parasol not extend far enough to also cover the attendants standing in the back...? Probably not, huh. ]
Ah, pardon me. Red is the color of vitality, after all.
[ A beat. ]
You should get some aloe on that before you start shedding your skin like a snake.
( the straight lift of Isurugi's head suggests he hadn't thought of aloe. (just a cabinet painkiller for the flush and ache.) the brief line in the corner of his mouth, the same that had lifted in his smile... that the description is a bit off putting.
the barest hint of playfulness: ) Speaking from personal experience?
[ McGillis does allow himself a small grin in return. ]
But I've seen it on someone else, and as morbidly fascinating as it was, I don't think I need the repeat experience.
[ Downtown, there had always been some form of shade, just because the buildings were high enough to obscure the sky. And endless darkness. But at the Fareed 'summer house', the boys had access to luxurious yards all summer long. Luxurious yards to fall asleep in on the hottest day of the year...
In the present, they step into the hotel lobby and the cool conditioned air is a very welcome change of pace. McGillis sighs in relief. ]
If I have any say in the matter, I won't be leaving my room until I have to.
[ Nothing sounds better than to bury his nose in a book for a while. He's brought a few paper books onto the journey, full of boundless optimism that people would give him enough free time to actually get through them. ]
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But murder is frowned upon in high society, and McGillis remains with no choice but to retreat inward, letting Iok's travel schedule lecture wash over him like water over the sandy beach. He'll find out what horrors the next days hold soon enough, what's the point of listening to what will only cause him dread?
So he glances off, towards Isurugi who exudes the same bone-deep exhaustion that McGillis hides inside. They've spent all-nighters in the office that left them looking fresher than this. Trailing Isurugi's absent gaze further, McGillis gives his first small smile of the day at the birds. He's always like avian life, and seeing different species from usual is maybe the only benefit of having come here.
Once the first drop of rain falls onto the table, Iok finally slams his hands down and announces an hour of downtime before dinner. McGillis has never risen faster from a table. He rushes to Isurugi's side, eager to get out of here and take the back route to the hotel, avoiding any further conversation with their travel companions. ]
I see you've decided the fauna is more charming than the good Lord Kujan. I cannot blame you.
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a conversational "mm," acknowledgement. ) What about you, sir?
( at least to Isurugi, the brigadier general seems to appreciate birds. he had caught the brigadier general's smile, however brief and small. )
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I would choose birds over most people.
[ The way Iok's robbed him of the absolute last of his patience is certainly lending itself to speaking a bit more frankly than he usually might. A bit lighter in tone, he adds: ]
With no offense to the people, I've just been an ornithology enthusiast since childhood.
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Birding? ( a glance to the side, tropic foliage Isurugi can't identify marking their path. at a distance, the islands are beautiful — water clearer than those surrounding Vingólf, white beaches, everything green, arresting in a way images of Earth will never capture — but this close, Isurugi supposes he is merely a colonist from space, disinterested. ) ...it must be quiet. ( eyes on the brigadier general: ) It's unfortunate that you couldn't make the time to indulge yourself, sir.
( rather than subjecting him to all manner of the very rich and very annoying. )
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Such is the nature of work retreats - 'work' never stops being a defining factor.
[ How nice it would be, to be one of the Seven Stars members tenured and also old enough to have an easy excuse to refuse their attendance. And how unfortunate for an upstart like McGillis that he still needs to accumulate respect and trust.
He turns and meets Isurugi's eyes. ]
You don't look exactly rejuvenated by the experience either. My apologies.
[ Not that he is that sorry. ]
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And here I thought sunburn is a sign of relaxation.
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Ah, pardon me. Red is the color of vitality, after all.
[ A beat. ]
You should get some aloe on that before you start shedding your skin like a snake.
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the barest hint of playfulness: ) Speaking from personal experience?
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[ McGillis does allow himself a small grin in return. ]
But I've seen it on someone else, and as morbidly fascinating as it was, I don't think I need the repeat experience.
[ Downtown, there had always been some form of shade, just because the buildings were high enough to obscure the sky. And endless darkness. But at the Fareed 'summer house', the boys had access to luxurious yards all summer long. Luxurious yards to fall asleep in on the hottest day of the year...
In the present, they step into the hotel lobby and the cool conditioned air is a very welcome change of pace. McGillis sighs in relief. ]
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Will you be retiring until dinner, Brigadier General? ( "am I needed?" if not... )
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If I have any say in the matter, I won't be leaving my room until I have to.
[ Nothing sounds better than to bury his nose in a book for a while. He's brought a few paper books onto the journey, full of boundless optimism that people would give him enough free time to actually get through them. ]
So you know where to find me.