Jason Retters (jasonretters) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2013-02-28 00:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | day twelve, jason, jason and mojo, mojo |
Cleaning and Wagers
Characters: Jason and Mojo
Setting: Courtyard outside the cafeteria, Block A, late morning
It was official; she had a job again. And just as official? It sucked. Mojo hadn't even started yet, not really, and she was already dreading it. But it was hard not to after an exploratory trip down to the basement that started with her being floored by the bar and club space and then... finding the cleaning supplies beyond.
She wanted to bartend now, to take back her offer to clean so she could hang around the lights, liquor and jukebox. It was whole worlds better than the closet she’d found with its’ shelves of cleaning products and tools all hung on pegs. But, she remembered, she hadn't signed on for what was better, just for what needed doing.
So Mojo had loaded up, stuffing clean towels into her pockets and hooking spray bottles of a few types of cleaners through her belt loops. She’d shouldered a broom, grabbed a dustpan and a duster, and headed back upstairs. There wasn't really a plan to it yet, nothing proper at least; she knew the common spaces were her responsibility now though, and that was a start. Maybe a glance in the cafeteria, maybe a trip up to the activity room a floor above? And if there was nothing to do in either... maybe the expanses of glass that framed the gym? “Eugh,” Mojo spat to herself, “Maybe coffee first.”
Taking the opportunity to sleep late, it wasn’t until fairly late in the morning that Jason ventured out of his room. As had become his routine, his first destination for the day was definitely going to be the cafeteria. He had suffered through two years with no coffee in the morning, he wasn’t going to now that coffee was readily available, and good coffee at that.
He was quickly sidetracked however, and Jason stopped when he saw a woman, loaded up with cleaning supplies. It was an... unexpected sight, to be sure. She wasn’t one he recognized, although he knew that was more because he hadn’t exactly been making an effort to get to know everyone here. Maybe he should change that.... And besides, she looked like she had her hands full. Curious, he approached her. “Need an extra hand with that?”
Loaded up as she was, the sudden sound of Jason speaking to her made Mojo jump and almost knocked her off-balance with sheer surprise. Only almost, though, and the moment she could process him? She tried to make it look smooth, falling back on one foot and aiming the broom his way like a weapon. “Only if you want to test my Sweeping Vengeance style,” she joked in greeting, jabbing the broom at Jason a few times before a grin broke out on Mojo’s face. “Don’t think I’ve met you yet, use that extra hand to shake your other one for me? I’m Mojo, cleaning lady extraordinaire.”
It was instinct that had Jason drawing back into a defensive stance when she aimed her broom at him. As soon as he realized that she was playing though, he relaxed, grinning brightly. “No thank you. Have mercy on the unarmed,” he requested, raising his hands in surrender.
Amused even though he figured she wasn’t serious, Jason made a show of doing as she had asked and shook hands with himself (which, he had to admit, was a very odd feeling). “Nice to meet you, Mojo. I’m Jason.”
Almost immediately, Mojo’s grin brightened considerably, sparking a gleam in her eyes that plenty of people found infectious; he was playing along! It was always wonderful to find someone who’d just roll with her eccentricities like Jason did by shaking his own hand, even if it was a minor thing. It was, to her, all about the willingness to just go with it. “Jason...” she echoed, thinking back to the last few days. “I remember seeing your name on the voting thing. Law enforcement, yeah? Were you a cop or something?”
Nodding, Jason answered her question. “Yep. That was me. And actually, no; I was a firefighter. I have no idea why they put me there.” At first, he had assumed it was because he had helped break up the fight between Kasper and Wren, but… In reality, he really couldn’t be sure. Of course, it didn’t really matter now all that much.
Still smiling, he nodded towards her armful of cleaning supplies. “Given your weapons and your introduction, I’m going to assume you got voted into the cleaning job.” Jason couldn’t really remember if he had voted for her or not. He hadn’t known anyone in the running for cleaning, so he had just voted for one of the people that had seemed willing, not wanting to stick someone with the job if they didn’t want it. “Congratulations.” At least, he hoped she had wanted the position.
She laughed richly at Jason’s congratulations, mock-bowing a bit and waving to a pretend crowd with her broom. “Thanks, I think people were relieved when I volunteered,” she shared with a nod. “I mean it’s not like I like cleaning, but other people were actually more suited for the shit I got picked for? So whatever, this works for getting my prize tickets.”
Canting her head for Jason to follow, Mojo started towards the cafeteria once more with an idle twirl of her duster. “And if you’re serious about helping? I say ‘yes, totally, you rule’ to that. I figured I’d push the broom around a little, check the common spaces to see if some asshole is playing vandal again. Which, if I catch them... how much trouble do you think I’d get in for trying to eye-blast them with glass cleaner or something?” she asked with a joking grin, though Mojo was serious about stopping the vandalism. Blinding the culprit though... not so much.
Following along after Mojo, Jason shrugged in response to her question. “Yeah. I have nothing to do today, and it’s probably best that I find something to keep myself busy, so why not?” Cleaning wasn’t in any way very high on his list of things he liked to do, but as he had said, it was something to do. Plus… That seemed like a lot of work for one person. So yeah, might as well help her out today.
Mojo seemed to be joking about the glass cleaner, so he figured it was safe for him to do the same. “Depends. Do you think our new governor has come up with any rules against blasting people with cleaning solution? And if he has, I wouldn’t worry. You have enough weapons there,” Jason said, nodding to her cleaning supplies, “that I’m sure you could come up with something that they haven’t ruled out yet.” At least, he hoped he wasn’t giving bad advice to someone who would take him seriously.
“I’m gonna bet that there’s rules against the spray bottles being weaponized, yeah,” Mojo answered even if she wrinkled her nose up with laughter as she spoke. “But good call, there’s so many cleaning supplies downstairs that there’s gotta be something they haven’t outlawed yet.” Really, with a mentality as random and willing as hers? Mojo was sure she could come up with some devious applications of basic household supplies.
Stepping into the cafeteria, Mojo lingered just past the doorway, leaving room for Jason to follow as she leaned on her broom. It didn’t look all that messy, but so far it seemed like most of the others tended to their own messes. And that was okay with Mojo. “So I figure if you want to wipe some tables, I’ll push the broom?” she suggested, unhooking a spray bottle and slinging a rag over it before offering it to Jason. “Or vice-versa if you’re allergic to table wiping. I’m a fucking veteran on that front.”
“My high school English teacher once said that if you were creative enough, you could kill someone with almost anything. Used his coffee mug to give a few examples. Not advocating the killing part, but I’m sure with a little creativity, you could find something to use on the vandal,” Jason told her. His sophomore English teacher had been… interesting. A very good teacher, but definitely odd.
“As far as I know, I’m not allergic to table wiping,” Jason said, taking the offered spray bottle and rag. “Although,” he added as he moved towards the closest table, “if I end up going into anaphylactic shock, I’m going to blame you.” Spraying down the table, Jason began the process of wiping it off. “So, what did you do before you got here? And did it have anything to do with you being nominated for Queen on the Cleaning Supplies?” Because after her question about his job, and the fact that, thinking back, there were a few people that had mentioned having jobs related to the things they had been nominated for, he was curious.
“Your teacher makes me wish I’d actually been able to go to high school,” Mojo confided with a small laugh, starting to sweep under the edges of the tables. “And if you end up in shock, you’ll be wishing I did too, just for the public-education level CPR I’d have probably not paid attention to.” This? This was good already; light and fun and engaging like so few guys could be. Too often Mojo ended up a temptation to them, whereas Jason seemed to just be treating her like a person. A girl could get used to it, and hypocritically enough? He wasn’t hard to look at, either.
“And I didn’t do much before here,” she answered at length, “Waited tables, tended some bar, worked catering jobs... anything that a GED can get you hired into that paid the bills, really.” It hadn’t been glamorous or exciting, though going off of Mojo’s looks and demeanor? Glamor didn’t rank high, and she excelled at making her own excitement. “So yeah, I’ve got some experience cleaning up after other people. And I figure it’s safer than detention or prison cop or whatever else.”
Jason smiled and nodded as he continued to work his way down the table. “Well, Mr. McKenzie was… one of a kind. He was awesome, and a great teacher. Made The Tragedy of Julius Caesar more interesting than Shakespeare should be. But he wasn’t exactly a good indication of how the rest of the teachers were. And don’t worry. If you were at my school, you wouldn’t have gotten CPR. Health class mostly involved the teacher making us wear drunk goggles and people asking awkward questions. Like whether having sex with a clone would be considered gay sex or masturbation.” Public high school. There really was nothing like it.
Nodding, Jason couldn’t help but be curious about the story behind what she was saying, like why she hadn’t gotten to go to high school. However, even though she had volunteered that little tidbit of information, he wasn’t sure he should ask about it. So instead, he asked the other question he was wondering about. “That’s kind of cool. You worked catering? What sort of things did you cater?” He imagined that catering was the sort of job that probably ended up with some pretty interesting stories. Well, most of her jobs sounded like they had the potential for some good stories, but the catering one was different enough that he had to ask.
“Whatever jobs the company booked, really,” Mojo answered with a shrug of one shoulder as she worked, leaning on the broom and slowing her pace. Why rush it? What else was there to do right now? “I basically played waitress outside of restaurants, y’know? So, like, weddings and business mixers and fundraisers. Sometimes I got to bartend at them, those were the best nights for cash, but every event had something ridiculous happen. Made me wish I got to do it more than I did, but it was filler work. Pretty infrequent, but the pay was incentive enough to keep my hair blonde.” She had to grin wider at that, bending to sweep far under a table and hanging her head to fix the mirth on Jason. “Blondes seriously get better tips. Like you wouldn’t even believe...”
Stopping what he was doing, Jason cocked his head, watching her curiously. “Really? That’s… Why blondes?” He had nothing against blondes, but he really didn’t see how hair color affected the amount of tips they got. Sure, he understood how good looks lead to better tips, but really, he would have thought that, given differences in personal taste, that there really wouldn’t be that much of an advantage to any one particular hair color. Besides, Mojo was attractive enough, he really doubted she would have needed to change her looks to get better tips. “Not that I don’t believe you, but really, I could name a number of other things that I would have thought led to more tips rather than being blonde.”
“Well for one? Catering fancy shit in Denver mostly means old white guys,” Mojo noted wryly, “And that crowd usually digs blondes. No joke, I compared between events and dye jobs? And maybe it was a fluke but it was literally twice the haul.” Though she could at least admit that it was flimsy; like most things in Mojo’s limited knowledge this was based more on opinion and kneejerk responses in the moment than actual information. “Whatever though, I’m not complaining. I got pretty sick of constant dye jobs. My roots show crazy-fast,” she added, shrugging as she worked. “Being a firefighter sounds way more interesting than counting whiskey-soaked tips and going over hair-color tactics. For real, I bet you saw and did some crazy shit...”
Grinning slightly at her assessment of his job, Jason nodded. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Or well, I’m pretty sure most people would count willingly going into a burning building as crazy,” he told her as he moved to the next table, beginning the cleaning process over again. He shrugged slightly, “As far as what we saw though… Some of it was crazy, some of it was…bad... But a lot of it? Painfully stupid. I guess that’s what happens though when most of your calls are paramedic calls. You get to help all the people that go and hurt themselves in their stupidity.”
“Huh,” Mojo said, clearly surprised at what Jason said was the norm for his job. “I figured it’d be more exciting, y’know? All kicking down doors and rescuing people. I mean, I know that’s a cliche, but I guess I thought it was true, too?” And it was disappointing to think that the stereotypes didn’t hold up here, but also insightful. “You know paramedic stuff, though? That’s pretty kickass, you think you could teach me any of it? Just in case?”
“We do that too. It’s just, when you think about it, there generally aren’t that many fires in any given day, so comparatively, we end up on quite a few more paramedic calls than anything else. But the fire calls we do get? Those are the ones everyone wants to go to. Everyone wants to be one of the guys that get to go inside. And yeah, it is exciting. I think you’d be hard pressed to find a bigger adrenaline rush.” That adrenaline rush was probably one of the things he had missed most while he was in prison. Not being able to get it had made him even more jumpy than he should have been the first several months. Grinning, Jason glanced around, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret, “But if you want to know the truth? We don’t actually kick down doors. We have tools for that.”
When Mojo asked if he could teach her any of the first aid he had learned as a paramedic, he was a little surprised. He understood though; here, especially, it seemed like there was no telling when it would be needed. Plus, well, he figured it wasn’t like outside where there was constantly something else to do. Jason nodded, smiling. “If you want me to, yeah, no problem. I mean, I’m not certified anymore since they don’t really let you renew those things while you’re in prison, but I remember most of it. There are some things that I’m sure I’ve forgotten because we never used it, but… I can do the basics, no problem.”
“I do,” Mojo confirmed with a slight nod and a steadier grin aimed at Jason before she resumed her work. “And seriously, if you’re game for it? If you don’t have, like, an official job around here yet? Stage a class tomorrow or something, get yourself declared Safety Marshall,” she suggested more encouragingly. “I’d bet you five... whatever our new money is, that you’d get at least three or four students if you offered. A lot of us don’t trust the system that’s in place, or we know it won’t always cover the emergencies that hit. Help a girl get out in front of that shit, yeah? I’ll totally do some room service for you in exchange. Nothing kinky,” Mojo added with a crooked smile and a chuckle.
“Safety Marshall? Now I feel like we’re back in elementary school. All I need is a sash and a badge,” Jason said, grinning. His school hadn’t actually had any sort of hall monitor or safety patrol as he knew some schools had, but he couldn’t help where his mind went sometimes. Growing more serious, he shrugged slightly. “And I don’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t mind if people wanted to learn, but… I don’t really want to go stepping on the toes of the guys that got voted in as medical here by offering a class or anything. I’m sure they probably know a whole lot more than I do.”
The last bit of what Mojo said caught him off guard and Jason laughed, shaking his head. “Honestly? My mind hadn’t even gone there until you said something.” Had she been Reggie then… Yeah, that probably would have been the first thing he thought. But he had been taking her at face value until she had added that last bit. Still amused and grinning, he went back to the table he had been ignoring, starting the process of wiping it down. “But if you want to learn? Yeah, I’d be more than willing to teach you. And you’ll be giving me something to do, so we can call it even. No room service required.”
Mojo laughed brightly at Jason’s little joke, head shaking in amusement. “That’s one of the things I actually miss not getting to do in school that everyone else took for granted; sashes and hall passes and shit. That and having a class pet, I’ve had one pet in my entire life and that lasted less than a week before she ran away,” she shared easily as she swept. Jason’s concerns, though, drew another laugh that got Mojo to stop in her work, leaning on the broom again.
“Dude, have you met the doctor? Guy’s so laid back that I’d think he had some medical marijuana in that clinic if this wasn’t still prison,” she joked, “I seriously doubt he’d be offended by you wanting to make sure people know resuscitation. So if you want to check with him first, cool, but seriously let me know when you’re good to teach. I’ll be good to learn the moment I hear from you.”
“Trust me. Sashes and hall passes were not all they are cracked up to be. You didn’t miss much there,” Jason assured her, moving around the end of the table and over to the next. “As for class pets… We had a fish in my third grade class. His name was Oscar the Grouch. He was…Well, he was an oscar. We weren’t very creative. We had a little funeral when he died. It was very traumatic.” Okay, so traumatic was a bit of an exaggeration, but it had been upsetting because they had been little and it had been stupidly easy back then to get attached to things like fish. “But that was the only one I ever had.”
Mojo’s assessment of Cal made Jason laugh in surprise. “I only met him once. I wasn’t sure he was always like that, so I guess I’ll have to take your word for that.” Still, if Mojo was interested, he didn’t have a problem with teaching her. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to try and teach a group though. Maybe he should try it out with her first though. “I might use you as my guinea pig first though, if you don’t mind. I’ve never actually taught anyone before, so I’d just as soon not start out with a group or anything.”
Apparently they were going to do just fine, if Jason could keep making Mojo laugh and vice-versa. She liked that thought, though it was tempered with a private addendum to not stare too much if they ended up hanging out. He was built, and that was never a strain on Mojo’s eyes... “Oh man, a third-grader organized funeral? That’s adorably sad,” she shared, “But then, like... learning about death usually is, especially at that age.”
And before she could really get mired in that topic, Mojo urged her thoughts onward with what Jason was saying, nodding zealously at his offer to teach. “I have zero problems with being the training round for you teaching, for real. Hell, this way I won’t feel like I’m slowing people down when I have fifty different questions or can’t stop laughing over mouth-to-mouth,” she confessed with a bright grin. “Since, you may not have noticed? But I can be a little juvenile.”
“Don’t worry about that. Questions are generally a good thing when it comes to learning first aid and all. Especially since I’ve never done the whole teaching thing before. You asking questions will probably help to ensure I don’t forget something.” He grinned then, glancing over his shoulder at her. “As for the laughing about mouth to mouth? As long as you get it all out of your system while it’s just practice? Laugh away. Because yeah, it’s pretty awkward looking.”
“Besides, don’t you know? Growing older is mandatory, but growing up? That’s optional.” He didn’t know if he would call what he had seen so far juvenile. She struck him more as simply the type of person who knew how to have fun, which wasn’t really the same thing.
“Good way to look at it,” Mojo agreed, looking back to her work with an absent sigh. It was going to be tedious trying to make herself do this every day, but knowing Jason was around, and adding him to the list of people who didn’t suck or bore her? That made it a little more tolerable. “Don’t know I was ever going to get around to growing up, really, so it’s cool that I’m not the only one who figures it’s not required.”
“I mean, yeah, sometimes a certain level of maturity or responsibility is kind of required. But the rest of the time? Might as well have fun with life, huh?” It was why he generally didn’t spend too much time worrying about things. It was a whole lot better than being miserable.
“Aww, come on, don’t sigh,” he teased. It was hard to miss the way she was looking around and it wasn’t too hard to figure out what it was about. He couldn’t say he blamed her. Cleaning wasn’t exactly the most exciting job here. Absently wiping at the table, he considered the options. Grinning, he glanced over at Mojo, letting his competitive side show through. “I bet I can finish with the tables before you can finish sweeping.”
“What’s the bet?” Mojo asked skeptically, even if she was starting to sweep a little faster and trying to watch Jason warily at the same time. “Are we talking like, the fun of winning? Or like the loser has to streak the courtyard during dinner?” Clearly she needed stakes to take the idea seriously, but from what she’d seen? Jason was the sort of guy who’d rise to the challenge.
“Winning is fun,” Jason said, grinning widely as he was kept working his way down the table. “But no, I was thinking of stakes a little better than just the satisfaction of beating someone else.” Because yeah, he might have been competitive, and winning was always fun, but… With betting, the gamble could be just as much fun. “And we could do the streaking if that’s your thing, or we could figure something else out.” Really, he’d rather not go streaking if it was up to him, but well… There were worse things. Still, part of the fun was deciding the stakes. “Maybe like… If you win, I do your job for a day. Of course, I’d have to hear what you’d be willing to put on the table, but I’m sure even if you’d rather something else for your prize, we could work something out.”
“Okay, I like the stakes there...” Mojo agreed, frowning in critical thought, “But I don’t know how much I can offer in kind? Like, you don’t have a job yet, right? So it’s a matter of finding what’s got value for you? I could offer a blank-check favor to be redeemed later, as long as it’s nothing too wicked...” And she was grinning with the offer, clearly playing around insofar as Jason suggesting anything unseemly, but at the same time? He’d be surprised what the limits were.
The offer of a favor was certainly one that interested him. If there was anything the State Prison had taught him, it was that having people owe you favors was a good thing. Granted, he didn’t think he’d need anything, but that wasn’t really the point here, was it? This was just fun. And since they couldn’t just bet the same thing, given his lack of a job, he was willing to take the promise of a favor. If nothing else, he could probably call it in some time when he got bored and was in need of entertainment or someone to talk to. Mojo probably wouldn’t mind.
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, grinning as he moved to the next table. “I’m sure I can think something.” His tone was teasing, even though her added condition about not being too wicked was unnecessary. He had no intention of making her do anything she didn’t want to. Or, probably a number of things she wouldn’t mind doing either, for that matter.
“Then we have a bet,” Mojo confirmed with a faux-serious nod, putting some extra severity behind it. “And in the interest of sportsmanship, we’ll start on three, cool? One...” she trailed, smirking Jason’s way before abruptly bolting for a far corner of the cafeteria. “Two!” Mojo hollered over, already starting to sweep vigorously. “Three, sucker!”
Just about the last thing Jason expected was for Mojo to jump the gun and get a head start like that. Really, the whole thing was so ridiculous that he had to laugh. It was like being in elementary school again. Of course, the sheer surprise about the whole thing meant that he was actually a little slower to respond to the count of three than he normally would have been. That didn’t, however, stop him from picking up his own pace, unwilling to just let Mojo win, even if she did have a head start. Still, ultimately? Yeah, he wanted to win, but this was enough fun in itself that he couldn’t regret starting this little bet.