2011 06 29: Five Minutes

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Mission Name: Five Minutes
Date of Mission: Jun 29, 2011
Locale: Training Area - Division

Pink leads to a five minute almost cancellation.


Dahlia Hobbes Mickey

It might be odd to see a girl in all pinks sitting in the training room. However, that is how we find Dahlia. She is reading a book rather intently as she sits to one side of the room. As people mill in and out around her, she doesn't even look up.

Out of an elevator, Hobbes enters. He has to check in with the higher ups of Division once again. That's really the only reason for him to be around the headquarters these days and momentarily does he linger in place before the large metal doors behind him, leaning against his cane. His left hand comes up to adjust the black tie he wears with his business suit. The man then begins pacing deeper into the training area, moving casually up until coming close to the pink. It's hard to miss the glaring hue when compared to the rest of the room. He lowers his brows questioningly and comes to a stop next to the girl. It's followed by using his cane to tap loudly at the ground next to her, aiming to gain her attention.

Dahlia doesn't look up from her book and for a few moments it might seem as if she's not noticed him. Sad. Until her voice comes out from her lips, it is very distinctly feminine but borders on monotone. "Is it the proper social construct in which you dwell to come upon a person and stand beside them wordlessly? I would think it would be more common place practice to offer a salutation to them or to explain they are in your way. Of course, you might consider yourself to be above the dictations of normal constructs of human interaction. That leaves one to wonder, if they were curious, if you thought yourself above the common populace." She reaches out and flips a page of her book, starting to read that one.

Hobbes had been idly chewing on some gum when arriving on scene, and now in listening to her reply the man swallows it down just prior to lifting an eyebrow dubiously. He wasn't expecting any of that and the surprise melts down into slowly shaking his head with regaining his composure. "Are you curious in knowing if I do, then?" He smoothes over the front of his suit with his offhand before gesturing to a spot next to her, his meeting can wait. "May I join you? Briefly, if that, but there are some things that're necessary in life- like this."

"No." Dahlia offers the word easily without much tone and still has yet to look up. As Hobbes asks another question, it involves clarification now. "I am not curious to your thought patterns. At least, I should say that I am not yet curious to them. If I were to be recording them, then I would most assuredly wonder to your mental conditioning." She tips her head to read the next page. "I would not wish for you to join me either. As the verb of join has been used in the summary of coitus and I do not have the urge to have intercourse with you." Another page is flipped before she continues. "However, if you would like to be seated at the table I currently occupy; then please find my blessing. Although, I do not own said table to give you denial nor truly bless you with access." There is another pause before she offers. "What things are necessary to any life beyond that of water?"

"I see." Hobbes keeps his responses as simple as he can, countering the eccentricity encountered as his mind riddles over a thought or two regarding this girl. He looks up and over to a passerby but is soon to direct his attention back down with a quick and sharp shake of his head. "No, I wasn't propositioning you. I was politely asking if I could sit down and have a talk." Not that he needs to ask a recruit, but he assumes it will work much better in the long run between the two of them; and, given her proverbial green light, he takes the aforementioned seat. His rosewood walking cane is revolved into the air and turned to rest on the table before him. "Is that a trick question?" Pause, "And why the pink? That'll get you killed."

Dahlia reaches under the book and takes a piece of wire to lay upon the pages. She moves in a very exacting way as she closes the book and finally looks at him. Hazel eyes meet his dead on for a few moments. "Why would it be a trick question? You stated that there are some that are needed in a life like this. I was merely asking what you thought was needed." Her eyes move from his to study the pink of her outfit. "If you were looking for someone who means to do you harm, which would stand out more, pink or black?" Her eyes then move back to his and stay there.

Mickey comes out of the computer lab.
Mickey has arrived.

Hobbes plainly nods which does well to keep himself expressionless, at least vaguely so before he begins to shake his head. He doesn't follow through with the gesture and instead distracts himself with drawing back the right sleeve of his suit in order to gauge the time. As distracted as he has made himself be, he's still speaking up. "I'm going to address your choice in clothing, yes. It's necessary right now, to your life, well-being, safety- those types of things." It's probably just to avoid eye contact. "I say you have about, oh, five more minutes to stand out. That is, until you're canceled without second thoughts. Is that enough harm for you?" He looks up, for the eye contact, and keeps his chin tucked low.

Dahlia is silent for a few moments here at that. There is not the normal registering of fear and panic. "Would you like me to disrobe within five minutes and are you planning to do this cancelling?" Her voice is that same feminine almost monotone that lacks any inflection. She slides her chair backwards with a slight scrap on the floor. She doesn't stand all that tall. It is here that she starts to unfasten her skirt.

Bouncing out of the locker room on the tips of his toes is Mickey, the sort of young man who could try out as an NFL linebacker and get on a team, he is some sort of cross between power lifter and tri-athlete. He looks over once towards Dahlia and Hobbes as he enters, but while his eyes linger on the disrobing girl, his body falls into place infront of one of the workout dummies and without pause, he pivots ever so slightly and plants a jarringly powerful kick across the jaw of the dummy. All the same, he can't help but peak, curious. New girl?

For a moment there, Hobbes isn't quite sure if he should respond to any of that. It's not what he meant, after all. He could let her go along however she'd like but somehow that'd be his fault, misinformation, and so he shakes his head anew and lifts up a hand to try and dissuade her. "No, and no, but it will happen sooner rather than later if you don't change clothes." There's a pause in his talking as he looks up and over to the sound of an impact, a kick to the face in this instance, and he calls out to the recruit: "You. Come here for a minute," is requested of Mickey, "I need to borrow you for something."

Dahlia does not pay attention to Mickey just yet. However, she does stop the disrobing process and sits back down. "So then you lied." The comment is given just point blankly. "You said I had five minutes and surely five minutes has transpired by now. You said my clothing was going to be the cause of my death. Yet, when queried if you wanted them removed. You offered a no. So then are you leading me to my death by allowing me to stay dressed or are you offering me an inaccurate time frame to the rest of the time that I have a pulse?"

Mickey has pounded the dummy about four times before he realizes that Hobbes was speaking to him. Halting his movements, he bounces a few more times as he proceeds over towards the duo who are sitting at a table that must be a rather new installation, seeing as he doesn't remember a table in the training area before. Then again, maybe he'd just missed it entirely. "Yes sir?" he inquires and then turns his eyes towards Dahlia, curious. "New girl?" he questions, wondering if he's going to be tasked with showing her around.

Hobbes turns his uplifted palm into just holding up an index finger to Dahlia in trying to keep her from talking while he addresses the guy approaching. He turns partially in his seat and lowers the hand to his cane. "You're going to show her around, and the dress code. Don't worry about the nearing curfew and if you're asked tell them that Hobbes has you doing it." He lifts his eyebrows expectantly before swiveling his attention to the girl. "They're going to be removed, and in some measure of privacy, decency at least, but not here, no. They will be the death of you if you continue like that, yes." He begins to check his wristwatch again. "It hasn't been five minutes yet. You still have a good two minutes."

Dahlia comes back to her feet in a slow manner. It's like she's not willing to waste the energy needed to move too fast. "It will take approximately two point three minutes to walk into the dorms. It will take another two minutes for me to disrobe and redress accordingly. I am going to need an extension on the time of my life. Unless you would like for me to run through the corridor." Her hazel eyes move towards Mickey for a moment and then back towards Hobbes. "Would you desire that I leave now?"

"Okay," Mickey decides and then looks towards Hobbes. "I'll have her change in the locker rooms, we should have adequate time. You," he begins, towards Dahlia, "Let's go before he decides to suggest your cancellation," he suggests and starts to walk towards the locker room. "This, is the training area," he repeats as if she didn't already know that, and then gestures off towards the tinted glass at the end of the room, "That is operations. Recruits are not allowed there."

Hobbes takes a moment out of his busy schedule mingling with Division recruits to simply inhale, and in doing that he dissuades himself from readily speaking up. Not that he is losing his composure but instead he would like to think before speaking. It makes him glance between the two of them. "Don't run," he implores quietly before nodding in quieted thanks to Mickey. The man gestures for Dahlia to follow after Mickey. Plus, he wouldn't really suggest someone's cancellation. At least he doesn't believe he would. It's a viable option more times than not though and that leads into a brief smile as he moves onto his three legs.


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