[ Opening Mingle ]

[randomly_modding]

[Everyone will wake up suddenly, as if having drifted off -- while sitting upright in an uncomfortable office chair. In one hand they're holding the communicator, and in their lap is propped a clipboard with a job application (standard, looking something like this; it requests up to ten years of job history, ) and a pen. The waiting room is also fairly standard, except for being empty.]

[The communicator's lock screen reads, Complete the job application. Time limit, twenty-four hours.]

[There are magazines, fake plants, and computers. There's a staff lounge with food -- tupperware that might have belonged to some of these nonexistent workers, popcorn and cocoa packets, vending machines -- and restrooms. There are exits, but characters will be unable to use them... or make their own, or escape in any way.]

[So the characters are stuck here, until tomorrow morning. Set up a comment telling everyone what your character is doing, and thinking, whether they're obeying the task or not, at any time during the day. Then tag other people! Be sure to check back later in the week, when people are encouraged make threads for the evening as well as the day! Characters that have been claimed are also welcome at this point to join the community, and will be able to make their own posts, which can be tagged by anyone taking part in the event.]

Comments

[sublimating]

[Bruce has his glasses on and his application mostly filled out, for all that he doesn't know... what he's doing here, or where he is. he's kind of hoping that when he's done, or when the twenty-four hours are up, the culprit will reveal himself and he'll be able to do more with this than the thoroughly impenetrable situation he finds himself in right now.]

[but he's pretty calm about the whole thing, really. lucky for you.]

[right now, he's more interested in the application. he hasn't filled one out in a long time, and he's amused to note how terrible his job history is after 'nuclear physicist' didn't work out for him. only ever a few months at a time, in random countries across the globe...]

Someone would have to be pretty desperate to hire this guy. [to no one in particular]

[waytobreakithero]

[ An amused woman's voice from over his shoulder. ]

Or, someone might need a person with a diverse history of employment.

[ Hi, she likes to sneak up on people. ]

[sublimating]

[he looks up at the woman, only a tiny bit sharply, and offers her a crooked grin] I suppose I might get a call-back from someone out of pure curiosity. [like, what possessed you to travel all over the world in the period of seven years? what's that like? don't your stays weirdly correspond to this list of disasters and monsters sightings in those regions?]

[hey, wait. who are you]

[waytobreakithero]

[ She gives him an easy grin, which might look a bit strange amid the stray blood spatters on near her hairline -- as if she'd missed some spots when she was cleaning up -- and... red and black leather armor. ]

There's always a market for curiosities.

[sublimating]

So I've heard. [sometimes by some very stupid people]

You look a little... ah, militant. I don't suppose you were on your way to a convention or something when you ended up here... [why else do sane, non-Asgardian people dress up in armor these days] [also blood]

[waytobreakithero]

[ Eyebrow. Funny, she didn't think she was all that uptight. Certainly not as bad as Sebastien. ]

If by "convention" you mean a place where lots of people go to meet and drink bad liquor, then I suppose so. I usually call that a bar.

[langsyne]

[ scott's looking at his own application with some skepticism. not because his employment history is questionable but rather because it's anything but - electronics technician for stark industries, founder of electrolang inc, technician and member of the fantastic four, and current leader and supervisor of the future foundation...he's certainly not at a loss for job opportunities.

but he's tried ringing the receptionist (no response), calling up jen or darla on his phone (no reception), and outright walking out of the room (damn door wouldn't budge), so it looks like he's stuck here for the time being, frustrating as that is.

might as well make some idle chit chat while he's forced to wait here.]

Judging from the service here [or complete lack thereof] they probably need whoever they can get.

[sublimating]

It does look like they might be a little desperate if they can't even keep a receptionist. [he gives the desk a look, and then at the other man, measuring. but he leans back in his chair, tilting his head up]

On the other hand, it seems like they have something pretty solid to offer if they can gather a group like this here without any warning or obvious opportunity for escape. [he's noticed the lack of progress made by others]

[langsyne]

Or something solid to blackmail us with.

[said straight-out, without so much as a blink. it's sad that he's used to this, sad that his original fascination and curiosity with all things new is quickly dwindling to mistrust.

and scott realizes his behavior and winces, letting out a sigh as he reaches up to rub at the bridge of his nose.]

Sorry. It's been a rough week. Year. [he offers bruce a wan smile.] I'm sure it'll be great, whatever this is.

[sublimating]

[he offers a wry smile. your exasperated, somewhat reluctant response is very familiar to him] Nice. Good optimism, there. I like it. Don't... believe it, or anything, but I like it.

[he is rather resigned to the idea that this will end in violence, himself]

Not to add to your rough year or anything. Sorry to hear about that, by the way. [heh] I can relate. [he's had a lot of rough years]

[cleanedslate]

Definitely seem to recall a certain amount of desperation being involved.

[ just sayin'. he's peering over your shoulder, by the way. ]

[sublimating]

[pushing himself up on one shoulder, lips quirking up reluctantly] Now that you mention it, I think that might have been a subject of discussion. I wasn't... exactly planning to put it on my resume.

[cleanedslate]

Which part trips you up? Is it the "secret government agency" part? The "superhero" part?

They have a skills list, right? Put down "rampaging". Pre-9/11, you could maybe get away with "terrorizing a small town", but these days they might not like that.

[ he's the most helpful job wingman ever ]

[sublimating]

Yeah, the-- I was trying to avoid the rampaging part, actually.

[he shifts to get a better look at Tony. well, you're all intact, and healthy-looking, and apparently defenseless]

[cleanedslate]

[ shut up about the defenseless part. he's never defenseless. learned that lesson well! ]

Why? You've got like, six -- maybe seven years experience at that. Employers like that!

[ casually ] The roof of your mouth doesn't taste like chloroform, does it? I can't really tell.

[promisebreaker]

[Peter is exploring, poking at magazines, nudging potted plants with the toe of his shoe and basically making a nuisance of himself.]

Yeah. The--the whole ten years experience sort of...sort of stalled me.

[sublimating]

[Bruce looks up at the young man wandering about the room, and he chuckles a little] Yeah, that's -- a little confusing, considering the crowd we have applying.

Got any extracurriculars? A faculty advisor could fill in for a supervisor...

[promisebreaker]

[Peter frowns and nods.] Yeah. A couple. [Although Spider-man probably doesn't count]

Mail room, here I come?

[sublimating]

[he has to smile] Yeah, well, something tells me they don't have any openings for nuclear physicists, so I might join you there.

[promisebreaker]

Wow. That's--that's a pretty cool--cool job. [He's obviously super impressed and maybe feeling a bit out of his league.] Uhm...what do you think they do here?

[howbigcanitbe]

You wanna talk desperate?

[Red meets green. Good? Yes.]

[sublimating]

[yes] [Bruce looks up, and then] [blinks, and straightens himself out a little, taking a better look. well, you're conversational, and not hostile at the moment, so here's... hoping this won't be another Harlem]

I've -- I've gotta say, I'm curious about what your application looks like.

[howbigcanitbe]

[Hellboy frowns and tilts his head one way, pondering that.]

Demon hunting. Mostly. Cat nanny if you provide the beer.

[sublimating]

Cat nanny, huh? [okay, that's cute. his lips quirk up into a smile] I hope you have good references from that. [he's a child of the 80s and he thinks of Alf...]

Even in the event that, ah, your demon-hunting is of the freelance variety, rather than the organized variety.

[howbigcanitbe]

Just a couple dozen cats millin' around. [Hey now, he doesn't eat them! They're just sort of attracted to them. It has something to do with cats having one foot in hell and him being the prophesied prince of hell.]

Nah. You ever hear of the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense? I'm the go to guy.

[He sticks out his left (normal) hand] Hellboy at your service.