[open] August in Enma

[eyediot]

Who ⬤ Jon and whoever wants to deal with this
What ⬤ Enma office problems, around the apartment block, yukata shopping
When ⬤ The end of July and first week of August before tanabata event
Where ⬤ Enma offices, Enma apartment block, others
Content Warnings ⬤ No real life office products were harmed in the making of this log. I'll amend this should anything else come up in threads.


Week One

[After several weeks of arriving here, it's been made clear to him that his superiors have no intention of letting Jonathan transfer out of the law enforcement department. He has no wish to stay surrounded by police, particularly not after some of the rumors he has caught wind of. Deals under tables, handshakes behind closed doors. No, he would much rather be elsewhere. But he isn't.

He's trapped. Again. It isn't until the third week he gets the bright idea. Who else had he known that hated their job, their ineffectual boss, and couldn't leave?

So the third week, Jon walks in, coffee cup in hand, and looks up at the doors. And it's with the clearest of thought process he asks himself: What would Tim do?

Nothing so far as real property damage, and nothing to really be reprimanded for. But enough to be annoying. Enough to make it known he hates it here. Yes. Yes, that is the mindset he enters with each day now.

Throughout the first week, Jon is doing any number of things. From letting his phone ring for minutes on end while he stares intently at a paper on his desk. To slowly tearing another paper into strips, so, so slowly it would almost seem intentional. There are countless times the coffee pot is found empty. Or, if it has been restarted for a fresh pot, it's only decaf.

Jon himself can be found at his desk diligently working it seems. None the wiser about any of these things.]

Week Two

[His transfer request out of this office has still not been acknowledged. Which really only means one thing: escalation. Not by much; he doesn't want to actually cause injury but perhaps larger, more inconvenient annoyances.

He hands in reports with the papers stapled on both top corners. Occasionally setting the copier to 30 pages and forgetting to reset when he's finished, only for the next unsuspecting victim to end up with 30 copies themselves. Files he receives, Jon will send back if he finds the most minute of grammatical or spelling error to be rewritten. While others are out to lunch, they may come back to find things moved just slightly a few inches on their desk. Any desks next to each other may have some trouble, their computer mouse not working only for their desk mate to find their cursor moving erratically without input (it's a simple thing, to track the cords to the opposite user's desk).

What might be the most infuriating part is that Jon... does do his job. While he seems nearly lackadaisical about it, he gets it all done with minimal errors. And well. If he sees someone around having issues with their phone, or figuring out how to use the basic functions of a computer, Jon does stop to assist. He was put in charge of tech support, wasn't he? Who would he be if he simply ignored that. There's an earnestness to it when Jon assists anyone who needs the help.

It doesn't stop him from printing 20 copies of his transfer request form by the last day of the fourth week he's there though.]

Enma Apartment Block

[One of the few nonessential things he's spent his tiny stipend on is decent cookware. So nearly any evening of the week, Jon's windows are open and there is the smell of delicious homecooked food coming from it.

There are some days he's realized he's cooked too much. And it won't keep well. So. Knock knock, on your door, it's the smell of food and a slightly nervous nerd waiting on the other side.]

Um. Yes, I- I live a few doors down and made too much. Was wondering if you could take the rest.

[Otherwise, he might be out by the railing having a smoke. Staring down at it.] Doesn't taste the same.

Yukata Shopping

Christ... Of all the bloody things...

[Jon's starting a little too late in the shopping for a yukata for the event. Enma wants them all to go, and while he still doesn't agree the actual police shouldn't be quite so ready to partake in things that may cause problems later, Jon also doesn't consider himself to be part of the police. It's a weird line to walk, one he can't help but feel is a repeat of a song he'd turned off before already. Consciously knowing he's part of a system he hates and can do nothing about it seems and wanting no part of it, while unconsciously not wanting to cause problems or be reprimanded.

He's out at the last minute trying to find something to wear. Because if he's going to be stuck going to this thing, he's going to at least not stick out. The problem is starting to look so close to the event itself, the only yukata left to fit his wiry frame without being children's sizes are... questionable.

Jon stares at it, somehow simply knowing it's the only choice there is here. Not without going to a multitude of other shops.]

It really would be this one, wouldn't it. I can't see anything else. [He'll turn to the nearest person with it in hand, almost dead inside:] What do you think?

Comments

[Week One]

[itstillhurt]

[Azula notices a lot of the petty acts of office disruption, but with most of them, she doesn't really care. She never drinks the coffee anyway, after all, and frankly she even finds some of the annoyed reactions from her fellow department members amusing.

Even the quiet ripping of paper is... annoying, but tolerable. She's handled worse.

But the phone.

The phone.

She's not a fan of phones to begin with, and the ringing is one of the main reasons why. It's a grating, irritating noise, and somehow- impossibly- the chirping of landlines is even worse than the horrible music people use for their cell phones.

For the first day, she successfully ignores the constant ringing. By the second, even her vast reserves of zen-like patience are beginning to wear thin.

Halfway through the third day, she's just going to walk over to Jon's desk and- without a word- unplug the ignored, still-ringing phone, staring daggers at him.]

[eyediot]

[Jon seemingly doesn't notice her approach. He catches her movement in his periphery but doesn't make a move to stop her.

No, he lets her unplug it. Honestly, the sound is detestable to his own ears. But if it's getting the point across, Jon is nothing if not stubborn.

Once it's unplugged though, he'll glance up as innocently as ever.]

Well, now I won't know who it was.

[itstillhurt]

[She sees what you're doing, Jon. And while she does not personally object- or even much care- the ringing, sir.

The ringing.]

Oh, I wouldn't worry. If it was important, I'm sure they'll find some other way to get in touch with you. You're clearly too busy to take the call.

[She accentuates this with a too-sweet smile.]

[eyediot]

[Is this where he is now? On the level of pettiness with a teenager?

Somewhere, somehow, he's certain Tim would be proud of this.]

Mm, possibly. We'll have to see won't we? But dash it all, I might be too busy.

[He will, of course, have to plug it back in at some point.]

[itstillhurt]

You know, if you're having trouble keeping a handle on your workload, I'd be more than happy to help out.

[She says this, apparently, with complete sincerity.]

It wouldn't be any bother.

CLINIC (FOR EMILY)

[eyediot]

Clinic

[Jon's puttered around it enough as long as he could. He eventually got proper glasses so he isn't stumbling around everywhere, but he should still be looked at properly. Thankfully there was enough word around about a clinic in the Sutoku district that seemed all right. And he was usually in the area for groceries.

It doesn't stop the anxiety though. The jitters in his nerves crawling up like- well, like things he doesn't want to think about right now. He detests hospitals and the like. But his want to know what exactly he is now far outweighs the rest. He sits in the waiting room, hands clasped together and his knee bouncing nervously.]

[eyediot]

[There's something there. A hint of something unkind but he's still too distracted to really put a finger on. Still, he smiles as pleasantly as a man covered in scars can.]

I think I've quite got it. But thank you.

[itstillhurt]

[Oh, don't worry, she's seen nastier scars.]

Suit yourself, the offer's open. I'm always happy to help a colleague in need.

[Or at least to shut up his phone. As she turns and walks away, she calls over her shoulder-]

Oh, and good luck.

[... If the phone starts ringing again, she might have to covertly sabotage the thing.]

Enma Apartment Block

[silentscout]

[Oh, if Jon is out on his porch then he is going to see a sight.

You see, Lalli doesn't use his front door like a normal person. That door stays locked 95% of the time, only to open when Lalli has guests come over (rarely) or food delivered (more often but still rare). Instead, he uses an alternate method of entering and exiting his apartment. One that is a little more dangerous for the average person, but that Lalli seems to handle with ease.

So one night, while Jon is out smoking, he will hear the sound of a porch door from a couple floors up open and then shut. Then there is the creak of a railing, a shifting of a weight, and a quiet step of feet. The pattern repeats a couple times, up until the source of the sound is finally visible: it's this strange Finnish man, climbing down the balconies to get down from his apartment.

His path is off-set from Jon's balcony by one apartment though, so when Lalli reaches the balcony next to Jon's he pauses while balancing on the railing so he can stare. Normally there aren't people out here when Lalli enters or exits his apartment in this way, so it's kind of the first time he's been caught doing it. And now that he's been seen, he's not sure what to say. So he sits there silently balanced on his feet, crouched on the railing of the balcony next door, staring at Jon.

Who will break and say something first?]

[eyediot]

[Maybe Azula just shouldn't be in the office when he plugs it back in.]

Of course. Thank you.

[eyediot]

[It's a quiet night, he's got a fresh cigarette ready to light up. In fact, his hand is already raising the cheap hundred yen lighter when he hears the bits of metal shifting above him.

He looks up, not sure what exactly to expect. (But he remembers the statement Patel gave, the Not!Them scaling the building, climbing in through Graham's window-) His nerves are on fire, ready to bolt. He'd killed the Not!Them already, but if he's here then it stands to reason so could they-

And then it's just. A man. He meets the stare with an owlish blink.]

...Hullo?

[silentscout]

[The blink is met with a catlike blink in return.]

...Hei.

[At least 'hey' is pronounced the same in Finnish and English.

And he just. Sits there for a few moments in silence. Watching Jon closely.]

You're new here.

[eyediot]

[Another longer look before he nods, takes a drag off his cigarette.]

I am, yes. I've been here a few weeks now.

I haven't seen you before.

week 2

[killtime]

[ She is, despite her rank, not a face that's seen often wandering around in the halls of the Enma offices. Andy isn't much of an office type. Despite having one of her own somewhere on one of the upper floors. She'd earned her title by blade and bullet, and even with its tidy little window, her office doesn't hold much appeal for her. So it's not that strange for them to have never crossed paths properly, even though he's worked in the same building as her for weeks now.

It's probably better that way. Andy isn't known for her popularity amongst her colleagues. She's been accused of having a Shuten disposition more than once. And she isn't exactly friendly either.

The weight of her skeptical stare is practically tangible as she stands in the doorway of the copier room, watching Jon print what looks like an entire tree's worth of papers — all identical, too. Her eyebrow arches ever so slightly at the impressive stack of copies, her hand resting on her hip as she comments in a deadpan: ]

That shit better not end up on my desk.

[eyediot]

[He's currently making sure they are, in fact, copying properly and not running out of ink partway through. But the voice, an unfamiliar one at that, breaks the silence.]

Unless you're in charge of transfer requests, then it shouldn't.

[killtime]

[ In response, she makes a little exhaling noise. Almost a scoff, but lacking the effort. ]

I might be.

[ She isn't. As far she knows. She probably should know — but again, office work isn't exactly her forte. For all her battle prowess, it may or may not have taken her several attempts to even figure out how to make copies. Didn't have that shit back in her day.

Walking over, she helps herself to one of the copies, glancing it over briefly before going on dryly: ]

You really think turning in a hundred fucking copies will get you any farther around here than turning in just one?

[eyediot]

[He watches her without making any attempt to stop her. The last copy spits out and the machine gives a loud beeeeeep indicating it finished its chore. It will have the repeat session next week.

But at the question, his lips turn up in a little wry smile.]

Perhaps not, but it will be hard to ignore, don't you think?

[Squeaky wheel gets the grease, so to speak. If he's trapped and can't leave, then what's the worst that could happen? Be killed? Ha. Too late on that one.]

[silentscout]

I work at night.

[And he finds corners of the Enma building to hide in for naps when it's not busy.]

You work during the day?

[killtime]

[ Andy gives him a wry little sidelong look. It's not that she disapproves. Quite the contrary. If she's perfectly honest, she doesn't really belong here herself. She doesn't even really like it. She's effective here, sometimes. But she doesn't have much in common with the others, and she hasn't tried very hard to get along with them.

It might be a bit of an olive branch when she holds out that last copy for him to take back from her. A gesture of solidarity, maybe. Or something like that. ]

You really hate it that much?

[eyediot]

[There's a moment of understanding: neither of them truly enjoy being here. It's one he can accept as he takes the paper and adds it to his stack. He carefully arranges them so they are perfectly neat and orderly.]

I'm not fond of cops. Or being trapped.

[killtime]

[ Both are reasonable preferences to have. She won't argue with either. Instead, dryly: ]

And yet, here you fucking are. It's almost like the powers-that-be around this shithole don't give a damn what you are or aren't fond of. [ It's almost amicable, the way she claps him on the shoulder. ] But don't let that stop you. [ With a twinge of wry amusement: ] We should be allowed our small acts of rebellion.

[eyediot]

[He jerks under the hand clasp, quickly jerking away- more an instinctive reaction than of anything conscious, if the way his breath catches and comes out a juttery, shaky mess is any indication.

He swallows thickly as the words start to filter back in, muffled and far through the loud thudding of his pulse in his hears before evening out again. God, when has anything in his life ever given a damn about what he wants?]

...R-right. yes. I- Honestly, I'm going to keep attempting. At least to get out of this office.

Yukata Shopping

[sefirot]

[Sephiroth has no intention of wearing one of these outfits, thankfully the Shuten are more about suits than anything else. He can deal with that even if it does make him look like a Turk which he absolutely despises.

The only reason he's really here is this is part of his quest to memorize the layout of the entire city and what places are where. He might have gotten a little distracted by stuff for sale, though he'll never admit to it.

When Jon speaks, he looks to him with almost the same expression as the one he's given.]

I think this place is a waste of time.

[Except this guy is talking about the clothes and not the city itself.]

But does it matter what it looks like?

Re: Yukata Shopping

[eyediot]

[Jon stares at the pattern with mild irritation and resignation. Of course it'd be eyes.]

A bit, as I'd rather not stand out. But given the last choices here, I don't think there's any other option.

[There really isn't. He doesn't yet know of the other factions showing up in suits and nice dress, thinking as far as he knows, that everyone will be in a more traditional dress. If he knew - but then when has Jon ever had the privilege of knowing.]

[sefirot]

[It could be worse. Not by much. But it could be.]

I think an individual such as yourself will blend in regardless.

[That might be sort of an insult as the more Sephiroth looks at Jon the more he's decided he's just a random nobody. He has a bad problem with underestimating people (that's what got him killed the first time, and the second, and the third). But surely there's nothing spectacular about this guy. He should just blend right in with all the other regular people.]