InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "for the love of all mankind"

Harvey Caldwell (harvey_caldwell) wrote in jh_corporation,
@ 2008-02-17 18:38:00

wicked world we live in (john)
Harvey stood quietly, having stationed himself at a stairway balcony. It really wasn't a balcony as much as it was the place where someone had decided to stop laying bricks in the wall. It was embellished with a rusted metal hand rail, and nothing more. Despite the cheap construction, the rectangular cut was admirable; it provided a panoramic view of the city which was breathtaking at this time of night. Made it quite clear that someone, some years ago, had a vision of creating something clever, scenic, and contemporary, only to be told "This is the budget-- don't make it too cutesy or we'll have a riot on our hands."

Which was a smart call.

Even with 10 years of co-existence, animosity toward AIAs still existed, and the tension held an even stronger presence over the evening air... But Harvey couldn't blame them. Even before AIAs, the rich were getting richer, the poor became the homeless, and ~~nobody~~ the government didn't really give a shit. Life was a struggle enough without trying to compete with beings that were born smarter... better... faster...stronger... Needless to say, Harvey was pretty lucky to have this job, and he knew it. So he'd arrived an hour early, just in case this John guy had any doubts about his commitment. He glanced to his wrist, noting the time, before returning eyes to the massive, glorious centerpiece that was J.H. corporation-- his old job. Somehow, he failed to see how this was a promotion.

Harvey turned from the window and made his way up the next flight of stairs. Didn't really matter much, as long as he got paid more. Emerging from the stairwell he reached John's floor- or at least, the floor that he was supposed to be on, and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper. He rolled it open to read his own, near-illegible scribbles (instructions,) and followed them to where John would be meeting him. He still had time-- it was only 6:35, far from 7 as they had previously arranged. But Harvey was good at that; being on time. He had to be. When your body didn't have at least one bit of prosthetics, it helped.

So he stood beside the office door, hands behind his back. 20 minutes more...

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ceo
2008-02-18 11:02 pm UTC (link)

This one had potential.

It took a lot to earn a man like John's trust. That's why he'd considered carefully as to if he should let Harvey in on the little secret that was happening underneath the surface of this very 'normal' and at times approachable establishment. The building was unmodernized; the outside, the inside. All for very good reasons. Not many people knew that the JH Corporation owned this building, and not very many people would care. They owned an operated a lot of real estate - it was merely part of the company's camouflage. Medical devices, medical advancements, organic food, make-up ...

John Evans only cared about the advancement of science. The other branches that dipped their toes into the pool of other useful devices, was a thing he barely got to know personally. He had other people to do the talking for him in those avenues.

A navy colored, sleek suit covered his tall and almost imposing body. To the rest of the red decor he stuck out like a splotch of black ink on a paper plate in a snow storm. The hallways were unsettlingly quiet, and the sounds of his heavy dress shoes echoed his calculated and memorized approach. A hundred rehearsals played over and over again in his mind. There were a few ways to explain to Harvey how to keep an eye out on the 'people' who lived here. Where he was going to take him wasn't yet the underbelly - he'd have to demonstrate his loyalty for a time before John thought he could read him properly. He'd like to think he read him right so far.

That's why Harvey was currently the perfect candidate to slowly feed the information of this location into.

Sunglasses obscured his observant eyes - do some painting, repair the carpet here, the lock on that door there - he'd ask Cassandra to schedule those repairs when he got back to the office.

He arrived exactly on the dot, to the second to his appointment. How he achieved this was by watching them tick by on his small, expensive looking black watch. Sauntering just enough to eat away the time. After that, he'd turned the corner as smoothly as a shadow inside of a witch's broom closet.

"Caldwell." he'd said. It seemed to echo. He grinned - a little piece of his ingratiating nature poking it's head out.

"On time ... I like that. Follow me."

His hand rose up to motion him over. They were only standing but fifteen paces apart.

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harvey_caldwell
2008-02-19 06:56 am UTC (link)

Roger Miller's "Whistle Stop" could be heard floating in the air, performed amateurly by a man who apparently knew how to kill some time. The song was old as dirt these days, but he'd heard it on some WiFi Indie station and it stuck with him. Harvey didn't even attempt to flutter his whistle, and the rest sounded winded as hell, but he sure did kazoo well. Once he'd heard footsteps he simmered down, the song dimming as he straightened up enough to look professional without looking like he had a gun up his ass. He'd even worn his uniform, despite the fact that he wasn't working tonight, just in case.

"Yes, Sir," he responded, his head and the features upon it slightly raising in question. When John smiled, his features spread into a short smile. It wasn't kiss-assey, he was just unassuming and it showed. A low key guy that was humble and hardworking in the workplace. He knew the value of a real job these days. And he'd been through enough odd and obscure jobs to want-- and know how-- to keep one. This job seemed to have much more to offer than playing Mr. Fixit in his apartment complex. Sure, the perks included homemade lemonade and spontaneous, wild hook ups with the sexually deprived neighboring hotties, but he was thinking something more along the lines of 401K and Dental. Health insurance. Something he could depend on.

He nodded as he was asked to follow the prestigious man, his hands leisurely falling to his sides. He didn't have to look at his watch to know that John was on time-- he was as punctual as he was professional, and Harvey couldn't help but admire him. He too wanted to wear a real suit to work, not some silly shmuckwear. He wanted to drive what John drove, and take flame to his monthly subway pass, scattering its ashes over the Hudson River. He wanted to own a company, and make the mega bucks. That was Harvey's motivation. He stood by John's side now. "Thanks for your time," he stated, talking to John as if they were business associates taking a stroll to discus a highly profitable joint endeavor.

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ceo
2008-02-19 06:48 pm UTC (link)

"No problem, kid. Time's on my side." Oh, John thought with an inner roll of his eyes, Stop quoting the Rolling Stones, Jennifer would slap you. Was it such an awful thought, Jennifer slapping his arm? ... No, no it wasn't. He'd give up his billions in a second just to feel his late wife's open palm smack him on the arm again, and hear her complain about how she hated the Stones. The silence in between the footsteps of their advancing toward another hallway, the sound of his breathing through his nose, the faint red color of paint surrounding them - how was it possible to live with a constant set of reminders of her?

Stop.

"And besides, I've decided after a lot of thinkin' that your just the guy I should start payin' more attention to." John moistened his lips and pulled back the sunglasses that once shaded his eyes, until they stayed poised and balanced on top of his head. Underneath the bridge of them, they created a half-Elvis in his early days tuft of hair. In other less elusive words, John would have said 'I appreciate your loyalty and hard work' or 'I have noticed your drive to succeed', but he liked being mysterious. He liked using riddles which would make one think they might be in trouble, and then reveal his true intentions. With an actor's finesse in pretending to be absolutely serious-minded, he peered down at Harvey as if attempting to view his soul on the outside of his skin. For effect, he even narrowed his eyes slightly.

He didn't want to take it too far, though. And broke character almost instantly with a large grin, and burst of laughter to show him he wasn't being critical. John even patted him on the back as they continued around a corner. "Forget about it, I'm just jokin'. Your hard work hasn't gone unnoticed. This position at this post involves a little more activity here and there, it pays better, and eventually it might pay more.

What did he know about Harvey? Hmm - he scanned his memory. They'd done a background check and all things necessary as far as the guard card, but what about his personal life?

"You got a girlfriend? Caldwell?"

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harvey_caldwell
2008-02-19 10:29 pm UTC (link)

Kid. John couldn't have been more than 10 years older--- and if he was, good for him. Anyone else might've been irritated, but it made Harvey feel a bit secure about his position. He instantly recognized the friendly manner his boss exuded, and he was beginning to think that the man really was everything that everyone had said about him. Which was rare these days. But he wasn't completely at ease, and that was clear by the rigid half-smile he was clinging too. John, in contrast, seemed loose and carefree, but who wouldn't be when you had that kind of salary? Like the old saying goes, "It's good to be king."

He raised his brows in an "Oh really," fashion, smile lost in silent inquisition of being labeled as "THE guy." The excitement of the situation had him slightly elated, but John's suspicious glare pulled him back to earth, and made him question how many poor slobs he'd told that to before him. John gave him a hard look, causing that expression to freeze-frame, only his eyes searching the man's face and then locking onto his left eye. The old trusting eye. Harvey was just grasping for solid ground; John seemed unpredictable, and intimidating like a famous celebrity... Or a psychopath.

A soft sigh of relief passed quietly as John erupted into laughter, causing Harvey to nod with the weak smile of a "good sport" that had just been pranked. This John guy was alright-- even though he was touching him... John was just a little too animated for Harvey's laidback persona to match, but he didn't mind. John was that guy you wanted at your bachelor party, or wedding reception. The guy with the world just chilling in his ice cream dish, handing you- of all people- a big fucking spoon. Hell, John was it. "Right," he managed, still a little overwhelmed at the burst of energy the older proved to be. Money had taken good care of him.

Harvey's face showed his concern for what the man was saying, nodding here and there. Suddenly his brows shot up, totally caught off guard. "Hm!?" A girlfriend? Uh... Well...?

Hailey? ...Monica? Emma? None of them really seemed qualified. He shook his head as a wide grin played upon his shut lips. He opened his mouth, just to keep from looking like a big grinning jerk, and chuckled. "No. No, Sir, I don't." Laughing matters aside, this guy was getting pretty personal. Did he hire him to secure shit, or did he wanna take Harvey out to dinner?

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ceo
2008-02-21 07:58 am UTC (link)

"That's a shame." he'd imparted, almost dreamily as if reminiscing. He was reminiscing, and the heavy reflection of his voice seemed to recall itself in the small niches of the high ceilings. There was even a pinch of sorrow, if you listened closely. Those few seconds that he'd managed to catch a straight peek into the bleak, synthetic lighting of this establishment, he'd stole a memory or two or away from his mental archives to view. Warm memories. The sort of memories that float up to the surface when you drown the theme of sorting them into categories. The dog running inside with a stupid grin, Holly spilling her ketchup at breakfast, Jennifer never liking to take pictures, the sound of Koda's voice when he spoke about his father at the funeral. Splits seconds. Split ends. Flashing faces and missed chances. Amazing how the human mind is capable of reflecting on so very much, in such a short amount of time.

He hadn't paused but two seconds in reality. He'd only proceeded walking, serious steps that seemed lordly without any effort. Zero arrogance and all business. John walked importantly, and thought about insignificant things such as the nature of foreign insects, or the true ingredients of the secret sauce at In-N-Out. What else could you think about? Stress? Life being confusing and public? Although it was inaudible, he felt the worm of hunger writhe around inside of his gut.

"No one to spend all your hard-earned money." It was a joke, of course, perhaps in poor taste to some people who didn't enjoy that sort of humor. But, he felt snug enough with this Caldwell guy. Cozy enough to think that he'd agree. The door that he stopped in front of was smooth and beige. One of those metallic doors that held a peephole far too short for men as tall as Caldwell and himself - John that it was funny that places still had old-fashioned peepholes, but thought it added even more charm to this unmodernized complex. "This is probably the place I'll want you in most of the time. You can patrol every hour. We've had more outbreaks of violence from the tenants inside of these apartments than we've had with outside influences. Know what I mean?" his brows raised as he took a moment to emphasize this fact by looking Caldwell straight in the eye. He left out WHY such events occurred, WHY such violence, and strange happenings just so happened to happen HERE inside the complex rather than outside. But, John wouldn't know why, now would he?

Not at all. And this is where the cartoon bunny would whistle and act casual.

"I'm pretty sure you're a good judge of character." he'd said, the keypad to press in the code to unlock the door bleeping and booping. "5, 8, 7, 2." he interjected his thought to give him the pass code, and then glanced down to the handle which clicked by itself, indicating it'd opened. "So, I think you'll know who to watch and who not to. There's a few SISM in this building that might be tryin' to earn money... the old way they used to. We don't want none of that, you hear? You see one 'em bringin' back a million men a night you best tell 'em they'll loose their roof if they keep it up."

The door was pushed open to reveal a very large apartment. Wooden floors, a clean countertop, a fridge. One room's door was shut, the other open to display a bathroom. But the feature Harvey might want to pay more close attention to, was the wall covered in security feeds. The screens were large and crisp as seven-up, and in full color. The back of the building, the front, the side, the alley by it - why did they need that much security? John shut the door behind them.

"This is a bad neighborhood, as you can see."

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harvey_caldwell
2008-02-23 02:28 am UTC (link)

John was back to normal before Harvey could dwell on the awkward moment, putting them both on the same page once again. The security guard didn't bother forcing a laugh at the joke which followed-- not that it wasn't funny, it just wasn't funny enough to expend any energy on it. Harvey actually agreed a little more than he let on-- as bad as it seemed, he just didn't get off on giving up the few nickels and dimes he busted his ass for, to someone else. He didn't even spend them on himself; everything went straight into savings. He had a plan. Then again, he didn't have a special someone, so maybe that was it. Instead, he had three, very un-special nobody-in-particulars, and they were paying him. For his services. Not those services. Or were they? Regardless, none of that mattered now-- he had a real job. The kind that required W-2s and W-4s and W-hatevers.

He stopped before John, awaiting further instruction. More nodding. He was attentive. He wasn't surprised enough to look so at the idea of the tenants being worse than those outside, and it wasn't his job to wonder so he didn't. He provided John with a short "Mm," in response, looking him back in the eyes just to confirm his understanding. He then turned to watch as John entered the code, lips slightly moving as he silently mulled it over in his head a few times. At the mention of SISM prostitutes he cracked a loopy grin. Now that was funny enough. "Got it," he said, nodding. John was definitely alright. A good man to look up to and a decent man to talk to. He would just make sure that if John was ever having a bad day he stayed clear or kept his mouth shut. A man this happy tended to have a temper when things went wrong; and nothing was always perfect.

Grey eyes fell upon the apartment, and Harvey stepped inside behind John as he gave a short tour. He then took scope of the security wall, stopping in front of it and folding his arms over his chest as he watched the screens occasionally switch positions. Wasn't much traffic or delinquency to speak of at the moment, but it was still early. He assumed this was his room... Which made things pretty convenient, if he didn't say so himself. Needless to say, it also meant that he'd better not let much get passed him, or he would officially be the worst guard ever.

Harvey cleared his throat, before speaking. "So this is where I'll be staying, is that correct?" He could feel the excitement of a new job approaching, and was positive he'd do his best to satisfy.

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ceo
2008-02-27 08:52 pm UTC (link)

"This is where you'll be stationed most of the time, correct. " John nodded, wondering for a fleeting second if he'd meant something else by 'staying', but decided it was more likely that he was referring to where he'd be staying while on the job. For a moment he thought he'd meant he was going to live here - no - Harvey didn't need a place to live. He appeared well off and sharp-minded. Most of the men he'd hired as of late for security positions seemed ever-tired, and ever-eager for the supervisor (rare they even had one) to leave so that they could nap. He'd caught so many of them napping before if he'd had a penny every time, he'd surely be even more a millionaire than he was currently.

John sauntered around for a moment surveying the place and it's amenities. With his hands behind his back, he peeked into the restroom. "Plumbing's good, the bathroom was never dirty. Whole place was never dirty. Kept clean by the staff. A custodian too, two days outta the week. Tuesdays and Thursdays, used to come Sundays but he had a kid. " he paused, and lifted himself back up to standing straight. Raising his eyebrows he added. "His seventh."

He grinned.

"Imagine that? Seven of 'em." he mused. Having one daughter had been stressful enough. As he made his way back over to Harvey's area where he may or may not have wandered to take a look around, he opened the fridge. It was barren and only a box of Arm & Hammer Baking Soda.

"Feel free to fill the fridge with anything you want," he'd said as he shut the door. John stood up straight once again and leaned on the white, wooden nook of the miniature kitche.He gestured toward the living room with his index. "Or put furniture in here. I mighta made this place sound like it's got all sorts of constant activity, but to tell you the truth, there's some nights you'll be so bored you might question reality. On those nights, might be best to just wander around, ya know? That way at least you don't drive yourself batty."

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