A Odd place for an Office Space

[WanSham]

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no.1ooo | penned by wansham | coded by kuwata
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my name is malcolm davie dimette.
i can levitate items only by the mass they carry.
along with ability to move through the many planes.

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.ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛs
.....ᴏ1. ᴏ2. ᴏ3.
.....ᴏ4. ᴏ5.

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July 18, 1922
The soggy morning air from the west gripped the morning by surprise, giving the day a taste of salt from the Ocean. Though it was still cold, the sun granted upon the place with a sweet warmth. Malcolm was already out on the streets. Not because he was a morning bird, but because he was the neighborhood hobo. Now Malcolm was very stupid with his mon--
"Maddox shut up." Malcolm snapped.
"Look you told me to write your "Autobiography" did you except something that Shakespeare would call "magnifico"?"
"Shakespeare wasn't Italian you idiot." Malcolm corrected. Maddox sighed and threw away the parchment.
"Why don't you just write it Malcolm?" Maddox whined
"I'm too busy, " Malcolm answered.
"Then how am I supposed to write this.. thing?" Maddox asked rudely.
"Just write what I say, Maddox," Malcolm said in a tired and agitated voice. Maddox reached for the 17th piece of paper and grabbed his bent quill.
"Shoot."
Malcolm sighed, putting away his papers for a second.
"In the early 1920's, I was what they called a "traveling lawman". I was poor yes. But I was no hobo. I lived in whatever place I could find and ditch. My name changed throughout the states, and luckily they were too caught up in other manners to worry about a guy that ditches apartment pay, along with casually making people overpay. I was okay at my job for someone that was self-taught. My degree from law school was fake, my identity was fake, I was fake. I was alive though.
On July 18, 1922, I was introduced to the wondrous technology of framing people--"
"Wait you actually didn't follow rules once in your lifetime?"
"Maddox I swear I will make you do my work."
"No, you won't-"
"Quiet. Now I was framing people for the longest time, generally because they wouldn't share the clients with me. And now I think about it, I think I pushed the client's way... During my illegal career, I was mainly with gangs, since I was cheap, expendable, and I didn't carry the true title of lawyer. So I made my living there. About 10 years after starting the ordeal of framing people, I fell. I was careless at that time, and the law soon caught me. I believe it was from the case of Marrein. She supposedly was the one behind the planning of the mass destruction of barns in the North end of New York. She didn't do it of course. Young dumb me left a huge hole in the inter-workings of the case. She got away, and I got front row seats in jail. Also--"
"Okay, besides this sob story, do you have anything else worth mentioning? Like how you become orange and blue?"
"Fine. I died in jail at the age of 76. Happy?" Malcolm aggressively spat out. Maddox sat dumbstruck, looking down at the ground.
"Go get the rest of the paperwork," Malcolm ordered. Maddox quickly got out of the room, closing the door quietly. Malcolm picked his work back up and continued working. Thoughts rushed through Malcolm's head, diverting his attention constantly.

Fall
Falling
Falling, Malcolm, you're falling
Malcolm, Malcolm, you're falling
Malcolm accidentally stabbed the paper through with the jagged quill. He set the paper and pen down and held his head with one hand.

Are you Malcolm?
Where am I?
His head swarmed with distant memories. The same voice clearly sounded off in his head
Malcolm,
Malcolm, are you okay?
Where are we?
Malcolm buried his head in his arms that smelled like a smoky forest, fresh from the California burn.
Malcolm, what did you do?
Malcolm threw his fist down but stopped before he reached the desk.
Please stop--
Malcolm, are you okay?
Why am I wearing prison clothes?
When's Malcolm coming to visit?

March 10th, 1987
The feeling of spring sent Malcolm into a shivering mess. His already decreasing hairline was a poor defense to protect himself. The light bells rang on the bars of the cell, which was a signal to get people up. Malcolm took a small cup and banged on the cell next to him.
"Keenu, ya up?" Malcolm asked
"Hi, Malcolm, where are we?" Keenu said groggily.
"We're in prison Keenu, remember."
"Oh, yea." Keenu faked, hopping from the top bunk onto the ground. Malcolm sat down and talked to Keenu for about 10 minutes on where they are and what's happening. Malcolm stood up and walked out off the jail cell, opening others with a small, worn out key.
"Keenu come on."
"Okay hold' on."
The day continued as usual, along with the therapy that judged whether or not a person was prepared to go back out into the world. The only issue was that today was not Malcolm's day.
The cold air from one of the few ACs in the building greeted Malcolm. The same questions were asked, and Malcolm answered them all again. He was sent out and the next criminal came in.
Malcolm made his way back to Keenu, waiting for the next shipment of prisoners to arrive, just like the rest of the people.
The same mistreatment and abuse to the fresh, new people carried out like usual. The only problem was is that the therapists needed to reach their quota in order to keep their stingy job.
They just needed one.
And Malcolm was the best fit.
When Malcolm received word that he was to be released at the age of 76 he wasn't happy. He was terrified. He felt like a deer being released into a hoard of bears. Keenu was happy for Malcolm since he believed that he would be out soon. Malcolm was out before the next morning. Before he could tell Keenu where he was, what happened, and what they have to do today.
He was on the street, waiting for a bus to take him South of New York.
But he never saw the bus.
When Malcolm made his way to the bus stop, three people were on the road. Three people who just got the right to drive and they were celebrating. One decided to knock the car into neutral with their elbow. The driver freaked out and attempted to fix it and shove it back into neutral. In a fit of fear, they slammed on the gas pedal, sending the car out of control. Malcolm was on the end of their celebration journey.
Malcolm didn't feel anything thankfully, just the sudden pain of the bright headlights shining in his eyes out of the blue.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ▷ＰＬＡＹ： ＷＥＬＣＯＭＥ ＴＯ ＵＴＯＰＩＯＳＰＨＥＲＥ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Falling
Malcolm was falling
Though he wasn't alive, he felt as if he was
Malcolm was tumbling down in the planes.
Malcolm's screams of terror was echoed
He blinked quickly and found himself in an office. The walls were a dark blueish gray, while the light was a thick yellow.
"Malcolm Dimette?"
Malcolm was still coming down from the high of fear. The person sighed and wrote on the paper.
"Look your dead. We can get you out of this mess by--"
"Yes."
"Wha--"
"Yes, get me out" Malcolm answered in haste.
"Are you sure you--"
"I don't care yes. Put me back in the Prison."
The person leaned back in their chair, surprised by Malcolm eagerness.
"Sign here"
Malcolm reached for a pen, but it was ripped out of his hands.
"Personally sign here."
The man gave Malcolm a quill.
"You want me to--"
"Yes prick your finger."
Malcolm almost gave himself a reason to get stitches.
"Okay, back to the prison."
"Well, we have to complete this contract first."
"What do I have--"
The feeling of horses tugging at his body from all angles struck Malcolm deeply. His ears were pulled into a long bunny like shape, while his shoulder blades were extended into two wings that painfully shot out feathers. The aching feeling of a brain freeze burned through Malcolm's head, leaving a horn behind in its wake. His tail felt as if it was being slowly burned away, and replaced by a warm smoke. Malcolm felt the speedy shot of a bullet in his chest, rewaking him back into the disastrous present.
"Almost done. Don't be stupid."
Malcolm's eyes wandered around the office, dancing about the colors that flashed in his eyes.
He could feel a stinging sensation that covered his skin and crept down into his bones. His fur soon fell out, bringing with it a speckled mess of blue and orange that covered his body and enveloped Malcolm in this new person. He was still Malcolm, but the years that he spent in cell #243 were ghastly removed from Malcolm's person.
"Okay, your set with the Planes Lawyer package deal. Now I'm supposed to give you a 10-minute speech on what you can do, but I'm not going to. Just know that you can make small things float like pens and paper, and you can hop through and make portals into planes. But you are only sanctioned to be in plane 002, 001, and the one we are in 003. All others are to be avoided."
Malcolm sat up straight again, his eyes glazed from the side effects of manipulating a body.
"Got it?"
Malcolm looked up and slowly started to focus on what was in front of him. But all of it seemed as if it was a blur.
"Wha-Whe-R-e am I? Everythin-gs' blurr-Y-y" Malcolm choked out from his younger voice box.
"And I screwed up another vision change. Ugh. Look, do me a solid and fill out the form that I gave you that speech, and that you have had vision problems before."
"F-O-orm?"
"Right." He said depressingly, filling out the form for Malcolm.
"All I can give you now is reading glasses, but you should be fine until you get your own." He put the glasses on Malcolm and continued with the form filling. Malcolm looked around, wondering where the light glow was coming from that plagued the top of his head. Malcolm then looked down at himself. His hand was a mix of a deep sea blue and an odd orange. It was a dazzling speckle of the two colors, and it ran down into his tail, in which Malcolm touch lightly, pulling his hand back up from the mist that drenched his fingers. Followed by the tail were stars and a shine that seemed to be confused with bits of purple merging with the white.
"Am I a g-Od?" Malcolm asked in all seriousness. The lawyer busted out in a chuckle, mocking Malcolm ignorance.
"Heh, no. You're a Planes Lawyer, and you will get accustomed to it."
"A what-"
"You go around and you do you paperwork. Not like an actual lawyer no. It's just a title."
"So I'm a fake lawyer?"
"Yep."
Malcolm shifted in his seat, waiting for the "lawyer" to finish with his paperwork.
"When can I go back to the Prison?"
"Whenever, butt you still have to do work no matter where you are."
"So I can leave?"
"Sure, just slide through the planes, I'm sure you can catch the trick easily."
"Can't you show me?"
"No, because I'm not a planes lawyer."
Malcolm nodded and impatiently waited, asking any questions that could come to mind.
"Do I get an office?"
"Yes, floor 83."
"Where do I go to get teleported?"
"Make one."
"Bu-How?"
"I don't know. All the other planes lawyers just wave their hands together."
"What about--"

"Look I don't know. Your paperwork is done. Just go."
Malcolm stood up and walked out, looking around at the desks that held what seemed as if they were slacking lightly.
Malcolm headed to the elevator, side stepping into the room due to his wings lightly puffing out.
Floor one
Malcolm immediately pressed floor one. A feeling of falling hit Malcolm's head as the blood rushed up into his brain. The stop wasn't as pleasurable as Malcolm expected. The sudden jerk of the brakes sent the force from the "ride" onto Malcolm, making him stumble around like a newborn baby cow.
Malcolm walked out of the office, and though it seemed like a regular, same-old-same-old office, it was quite the opposite. It was hell.
As in literal, trademark, the thing that people constantly say that somethings warmer or colder than, Hell.
And Malcolm panicked. He blindly ran towards a brimstone pile, taking shelter in the crevices of the rock.
An hour passed by. And nothing happened. He didn't see ghouls or demons. There were no screams of forgotten souls or the hands of the undead. All there was near Malcolm was a burnout courtyard and a small platform sticking out of the sidewalk. Malcolm rose from the rocks, walking to the courtyard in an upset and confused manner. He sat down and awkwardly looked around.
Well, that is until he remembered Keenu. Malcolm face paled and he shot up. Malcolm put his hands in his hair and silently freaked out. That is, until a loud shatter rippled in Malcolm's ear, scaring him to no-witts end. He snapped his head back to see the thing that he thought was ready to strike. But instead, he was greeted by a man walking from a small black hole, that closed in a flash. He walked into the office, not noticing the brightly speckled elephant in the room. Malcolm looked over his shoulder at the person, jogging over to the platform that he came out of.
It was simple, the platform itself was a solid piece of concrete, with a light dome shape in it. Malcolm walked around it, in it, and touched just about every part of it. Malcolm finally resorted to what he didn't understand. Waving his hands around like a lunatic.
Malcolm crouched and started to wave his hands around, but while doing it he felt a jerk. Not like a fish tugging on the end of your fishing pole, but as if his fingers were being pulled ever so lightly. Malcolm continued to pull and push around the air until a gleaming white ball basked the platform in a milky color. Malcolm couldn't see the planes, but he could feel them.

He could feel the drifting sunrise of plane 002, the crushing gravity of plane 097, and the metallic touch of jail bars in plane 001. Malcolm let his hands down slowly once he found plane 001. The lazily chopped grass, the wet smell of concrete on a drizzling morning, the feeling of family love from Keenu's misadventures through the laundry room in 1943. That was it. That was home.

Malcolm tried to enter the portal, but as he stayed in the portal, he could feel the electricity around him build until it slammed onto him. Malcolm hustled back, holding his chest from the shock. He stared at the portal, wondering what he did wrong.
He put his hand near it, felt the building of energy, and tore his hand back. Malcolm looked at the portal, gave in to its demands, and ran directly into it.
He felt a stretching burn in his spine, before being spit back out into a grassy bump. Malcolm groaned lightly, taking a second to think what went wrong.
I'm still in He--
A hard and snapping pinch lit up Malcolm's ankle. He breathed in light and smacked what was hooked to his ankle.
Stupid ant-
ants?
grass?
Malcolm shot up and looked around. The road was worn out, the trees were noisy shaking in the wind, and a stone fortress stood in the south.
Malcolm was back where he started.
And there was nothing more he wanted.
Malcolm started to jog to the south, his head wrapping around the idea that he was back. As he dove deeper into the thought, he picked up the pace and soon was rejoicing in the falling evening.

That is until night finally reached the hillside. Malcolm stopped from the engulfing sensation. He felt as if he was a tissue paper that had been drizzled with ink. It spread around himself, chilling him from the change. Malcolm looked down at his hand and saw the speckles disintegrate. Everything felt off. His pelt was smooth and had a watery feeling about it. Malcolm dropped his thoughts and focused on Keenu.
Malcolm neared the prison. It was drenched in vines and the once green grasses were replaced by looming weeds. It was a run-down carnival. The gates were opened, everything was. Malcolm walked in bitterly, looking around at anything that could point him to Keenu.
Malcolm stopped at a calendar. The dates from February the 1st to the 16th were crossed out. But Malcolm didn't care about what plans the guards had, but what year they were in.
2002
Malcolm was gone for 20 years.
Keenu was alone with his already decreasing mental health
For 20 years.
Malcolm stood in shock.
His face was cold.
His hands were cold.
Malcolm slow became cold at the thought of Keenu alone.
At the thought of Keenu dead. Without Malcolm to comfort him.
Malcolm reeled back into reality, his stomach twisting in regret.
Malcolm mouth finally made a noise after being left open. He hoarsely let out a deep and saddened groan. It soon turned into a mumbling mess of crying and choked sobs.

Malcolm stood up from his desk once Maddox pushed on his shoulder. "Malcolm. Get up." Maddox said, setting down a small bowl of questionable ramen.
"I have my own lunch, Maddox."
"The fridge died, along with your meal."
Malcolm sighed, shifting his hand around so that a stapled form would rise from the filing cabinet.
"Did we have a warranty?"
"No, you threw that out."
Malcolm sighed, filling out the form.
"Could you get the numbers from Keenu for today?" Malcolm asked.
"Sure. But don't start taking my work while your multitasking Malcolm. You know I need the money."
"Sure, just leave."
Malcolm continued working, occasionally moving his fork around in boredom.
Turns out you need to read terms and services contracts. Or just try not to die.

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→ＦＯＲ ＡＮ
xxxx☾ ◯ ☽

[WanSham]

◄ ►{An Office Space is a Lawyers Base}◄ ►

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☾ ◯ ☽

The blank stare of a car shot across the road and drifted by Maddox with ease. The cold hardness of the evergreens made the forest darker from the branches that covered the already weak moon. He stood on the hair line of the forest, which led to highway 18. Maddox trekked forward, unaware of how close he was nearing the road. He slammed his knee into the crash barrier, awakening him back into reality. He stumbled back from the barrier, looking down around him for what he smacked into. He looked down at his knee and checked for anything brutally injured.
Nothin'
With a rush of relief, he looked back up at his own body.
Arms could be better
I don't see anything on my shirt so I guess I'm good there
Nothing on my head-- wait. Ow
What's on my neck?
Hgnh
Is -- is that a burn mark?
Maddox touched the back of his neck gingerly, feeling the wound along with the singed hair. He eased this body and blankly stared off, focusing on his neck.
What did I--
Did I?
No wait
Oh god yes I did
Maddox threw his head around, looking behind him in paranoia.
I jumped the portal
Oh god I jumped the portal
Maddox took off from the car crowded highway into the small woods.
Malcom
Malcolm please don't
He searched for anything Malcolm would have put on him. Any chains, lose bracelets, even a stick of gum. He started frantically throwing them away from him. He stopped at a neighborhood fence and clumsily jumped over it, storming onto a striped lawn. The click-clacking of his dress shoes was drowned from his ears from his heavy breathing that was mixed with light whimpers of fear. Maddox got off of the street and into an avenue. He dashed from it and landed in a tourist trap of a town. Maddox started to slow down and shimmy through the alleyways that were distorted from years of freezing, expanding, and thawing from the onslaught of winter. He didn't stop, no, he couldn't stop. Once Maddox stopped, surely Malcolm will catch up to him. And personally, he did not enjoy the process of working with Malcolm. The filing, the work, and just the thought that he was the deciding factor on where souls went.
But not everything was up to Maddox
Especially when he had a hefty fine to pay. He stumbled over garbage cans, soapboxes, a few hobos, and one scene that looked awfully like a mafia meet up. Despite him probably gaining a few new obsessive enemies, he continued to bolt. Maddox's lungs burned from the intake of oxygen and the chilled air.
The rims of his suit's pants reeked of mysterious puddles and the liquid on them stung the scratches that paraded on his red ankles. A few tears were found on the torso of his shirt, which allowed his body to shiver from the entrance of the cold air.
Maddox felt as if his heart was going to give out on a moments notice, but he ran on.
Running until collapse is the best option compared to spending 148 more years on top of his already spent 202 with Malcolm. People would say it's a blessing to live long life. Well, Maddox has lived a long life. Maybe a little too long. Though Malcolm always threatened him with death, he could never do it.
Maddox rushed the crowd of on-goers. He slid and shimmied his way through before giving up and running directly through traffic. Maddox could feel hi heart thumping into his throat as the ran down the middle of the obnoxious street. Maddox pushed through the stopped cars and ran towards a market. The thick fog of steam and smoke rose and dispersed into the atmosphere, giving the spiced area a smell of warmth and the tang of something metallic. Maddox stopped for a spilled second and looked for anything else than a hoard of people. His heart burned from the feeling of possible regret and it sharply hit his stomach. Maddox continued to stare around, jogging lightly to the side of the entrance. He turned to see where he was going and made out what appeared to be a fire escape lodged to the side of a rustic, moss-covered brick wall. Maddox dashed across the sidewalk towards the escape. He clumsily, and painfully jumped onto the rusted in ladder. It groaned once Maddox threw his body onto it, sending it downwards in a quick and utterly terrifying swoop.

Maddox continued to book it. Running up the dramatic flight of stairs. His ankle slowly began to creak from overuse and his legs tensed and shook from the exercise. Maddox reached the top onto the roof and climbed down from the ledge that the stairs ended on. He stumbled and fell off onto the gravel that littered the roof top. Maddox's body burned, his palms cringed in pain from the gravel, his chest was positively sick, everything felt as if they were going to collapse. Maddox pushed himself up but slipped on the loose rocks.
Maddox couldn't run anymore. Even if he did get up, he couldn't run fast enough to swoop out from under the eye of Malcolm. Maddox stretched himself out onto the cold stones and waited for Malcolm to take him back.
Seconds turned to minutes and Maddox grew impatient despite the thing he was waiting for. Maddox gasped and hoarsely yelled
"Malcolm, come and get your problem worker!"
His jaw was clenched and his lips were parched.
A few more minutes rushed by
"Malcolm! Malcolm put the paperwork down and get over here!" Maddox yelled.
"Malcolm--"
A loud crisp clack followed by a small flash of light livened the rooftop. Malcolm was thrown out of the ball of light and landed on his shoulder, sending him into a crushing roll. He finally stopped and groaned for a second before gingerly standing up, cleaning off his jacket that looked similar to a rich person curtain, or so Maddox thought. Malcolm refixed himself and took a small pair of glasses and placed them back onto his nose. Maddox scooted out of the way of Malcolm's vision.
"Maddox! Get over here. Now." Malcolm hissed, walking towards the ledge of the apartment. Malcolm's heels slammed onto the concrete drop-off in a cascade of noise.
"Maddox. Time to go home pronto."
Maddox kept his mouth shut, bringing a hand up to his mouth to cover his already labored and heavy breathing. Malcolm slowly began to pick up rocks and toss them around the roof. The bright glow from his hands lit up his already weary face. A few landed on the generator that Maddox was hiding behind. Though he did let out a few little spurts of breath, Malcolm was too oblivious to notice. Malcolm dropped his remaining ammo, stepping off of the ledge and allowing the pebbles to move under his weight.
"Maddox?" Malcolm called, walking around the building ever so slowly. A sense of fear that he hopped on the wrong apartment complex flooded his eyes and face.
"Maddox!" Malcolm shouted, picking up his pace.
"I have no time for this Maddox. Come out now." Malcolm ordered, rearing in on Maddox's rendezvous spot. Maddox shifted gently, allowing some of the rock beneath him to rub against each other and deliver a crisp, squeaky sound that led to a few rocks falling. Malcolm cracked his head to the sound in surprise. But that surprise quick fell into anger. Malcolm stormed to the sound, finding Maddox who was sitting in a crippled ball.
"Mal-"
Malcolm grabbed Maddox by the same scruff that he was burned on.
"Ah-ah-ah-ah Mal-Malcolm put me down, right now" Maddox ordered sheepishly. Malcolm's face tucked into an annoyed frown.
"Maddox. I have given you every chance to take off years from your sentence. But what do you do? Add on another 120 years to your already overextended stay. People who kill off Planes Lawyers get shorter sentences than you, you miserable excuse for an accountant." Malcolm aggressively rambled, "And what happened to you?"
"Nun ya," Maddox answered,
Malcolm stood upright, pulling out a piece of paper, along with a quill from the inside of his thick jacket.
"Hell. Wants. You. Back. Now." Malcolm said eerily, grabbing Maddox's hand and pricking it lightly with the quill. He forced Maddox's hand onto the paper, smearing it with his bleeding finger. Maddox limply allowed the procedure to happen. The light stroke of blood on the paper formed into a dainty signature that one could barely make out. In the words written, all that could be read was "Mad--- Sh--me--o-n"
Malcolm dropped Maddox on the ground. Malcolm scoffed at the sight of Maddox. Normally he would be fighting Malcolm about everything. But the "young" boy seemed broken about something. Which was suspicious, since this was his third attempt breaking out in the past year.
Malcolm crouched and threw out his hands, holding up his fingers and started to lower the gravity around the area. Pebbles started to float roughly a foot off the ground. In the midst of the chaos, a small static rip shot through the low, groveling rumbling. The entrance to the next plane threw off bright blue embers from the white dot that was the cause of the noise. The area around the portal was dyed a bright white with thick and heavy black shadows. Maddox slowly started to scoot away, but Malcolm shifted his weight and angerly slammed his foot onto Maddox's tail.
Malcolm slowly took his glasses off and put them into his pocket. Malcolm watched the spinning of the portal, waiting for the right time to enter the "hell" plane. Malcolm moved his foot and took Maddox's hand, preparing for the run. With the gracefulness of a giraffe on rollerskates, Maddox and Malcolm ran into the portal.
The feeling of zero gravity was quickly replaced with the overwhelming pull of the new plane. Maddox landed feet first, which led to him falling and tumbling on his side. Malcolm, despite constantly traveling, hit the ground on his side, rolling through the force. Malcolm stood up first, dusting himself off and putting his glasses back on.
"Maddox lets go," Malcolm ordered. Maddox distastefully groaned, sitting up and stuck his hand out.
"Help," Maddox mumbled, his tone decreasing into an abyss of tiredness.
"Maddox, you can walk. Get up." Malcolm answered. Maddox continued to sit out of spite, staring at Malcolm. Malcolm sighed, picking up Maddox by the hand, and throwing him up. Maddox grunted and stood awkwardly.
"Office, now," Malcolm said, walking down the charcoal ridden hill.
Some could say the road to Hell is paved with horrific actions. Though this Hell is more-or-less paved with brimstone. Though Malcolm's workplace is paved with tiles from an Office Supply company in Vermont. Either way, things are paved with other things, and charcoal gets everywhere. Malcolm opened the glass doors, allowing Maddox to enter first. Most could say that the most awkward thing has to be in complete silence with a stranger, though Maddox and Malcolm have mastered the element of "Sit in an elevator for about two minutes while staring off into the distance" awkwardness. The elevator was slowly dying, as usual, ever single trip on the blasted thing seemed to have taken a year off of its already minuscule life. Malcolm and Maddox finally reached floor 83 and with a buzzed ding, they were set free. Malcolm grabbed Maddox by the back of the neck and took him to his office. He put Maddox on his desk next to him and gave him the work that they missed while they were away.
"Finish this and we'll do something else," Malcolm ordered. Malcolm sat in his chair, stretching into the chair while allowing his wings to touch the floor. A beep came from the intercoms and seemed to have persuaded the people to stop working. Or maybe give them a reason to not do the rest of the paperwork.
Malcolm Dimette; you have a soul searcher on room 964
Malcolm groaned, slowly and clumsily standing up, bring with him 5 pens, 43 different forms, along with 2 stamps. The supplies all floated behind him like dwarfs behind the head leader of a dwarf cult. Maddox stayed behind, crunching in the numbers of the death total for the day, along with the new life total. A knock at the door ruffled Maddox lightly.
"What do you want," Maddox answered in a groggy voice. The door was quickly opened, only to have Maddox's neighborhood stalker behind it.
"Hi, Maddox," Keenu answered vividly.
"I'm working Keenu, go on."
"Oh come on Gladdox Maddox, tell me all about your journey," Keenu said, his voice filled with fantasies.
"Told you to stop callin' me that Keenu," Maddox said. Keenu galloped to Maddox's desk, putting his elbows on the desk.
"Pleaaasee Maddox, do it for me," Keenu said in a flirtatious tone. Maddox looked up from his work in an annoyed yet calm glare. His face soon shifted into a happy and mischievous smile.
"You really wanta' know Keenu?" Maddox leaned into Keenu's ear and whispered sweet and delightful lies.
Keenu's face twisted into a distraught look.
"You like Malcolm more than m-me?" Keenu croaked, his eyes watering. Keenu dashed out of the room and ran to who-knows-where. Maddox sighed and continued working.

The simple feeling of time seemed off. Most seemed to rely on Malcolm for the time. Well if it was day or night up above. It was slow. Everything was slow. Including the people that should be coming in to fix the elevator.

Hells the worse place to do any office business.

[WanSham]

◄ ►{Improv time and no ones primed}◄ ►

☾ ◯ ☽

☾ ◯ ☽

Another
Poorly put together
meeting
"And this one doesn't even have anything to do with soul counting.
More or less their just giving the same run down of "we made another new system for soul storage!". And all they did was tell us how great their branch was doing. They didn't even mention what forms we had to fill out or if they even had any new forms." Malcolm whined, filling out plane 002's new forms.
"Malcolm, maybe you just need to chill."
"Chill? Why should I chill? I'm sitting here in makeshift hell and they won't even mention to me what they need. All they do is expect that I got the memo and that I'm filling out their necessary forms for them."
"Malcolm, you blind idiot. You are filling out their forms." Maddox said, putting down his calculator in order to talk to Malcolm.
"Shut up."
The door opened slightly, letting in part of the fluorescent lights that baked outside.
"Hours number charts." A gleeful voice said
"Keenu just put it outside. " Maddox ordered. Keenu walked in without hesitation, putting the numbers right on Maddox's desk.
"It's easier if I put it on your desk," Keenu said in an oddly happy way.
"You, out." Malcolm sternly ordered, opening the door.
"I'll see you later Mady." Keenu slowly left, smiling the whole way.
"Can we just fire him?" Maddox asked, flipping through the numbers.
"No, we don't have any replacements. Even if we did I wouldn't, he's quick."
"More like a creep."
"Shush, finish your work." Malcolm grabbed his jacket a shimmied into it.
"Where are you going?" Maddox asked
"Another meeting with plane 2 branch."
"Do I have to come?"
"No, it's for an another system of counting. Keenu and I will go. I'll page you if I need you, Maddox."Malcolm said, pushing his way out the door.
"Mmph, cya then."
"Bye-" Malcolm shut the door and looked over the group of people that wandered around the floor. Some how getting their work done. Malcolm walked over to the accounting section of the office, moving to Keenu.
"Put the numbers down Keenu, we gotta make it out of here. Now." Malcolm said bitterly.
"Sure friend," Keenu answered, his tone becoming increasingly calming.
Roughly an hour passed before the portal would ever open
"Malcolm, you're getting pretty rusty, looks like your late aga--"
"Shut up."
"Look I'm just saying, yo--"
"I said shut up. Don't you start talking like your Keenu," Malcolm hissed.
"I am Keenu, Malcolm--"
"Quit talkin-"
"Stop interrupting me, Malcolm!" Keenu yelled,
"Then stop lying!" Malcolm fired back.
"Your just sad that you skipped 20 years with me. And you can't accept that I am Keenu!"
"Keenu doesn't flirt, he doesn't do his work all the time. Keenu doesn't act like you."
"Yeah, well guess what. Keenu spent over 50 years with himself and a few other people. Keenu is still Keenu." Keenu said, his voice low with a truth. Malcolm grabbed Keenu's hand and threw both Keenu and himself through the hole.
Keenu landed first, though his amazing landing was just sliding in the sand. Malcolm landed on his feet but stumbled most of the way.
"We're not talking about this again," Malcolm said, walking to the edge of the clouded beach. Keenu stood up, brushing the sand from his collar.
"Wheres the meeting?" Keenu asked harshly.
"It's a ways behind us. Maybe about 3 minutes from here." Malcolm grumbled, walking away from the tide.
Keenu turned around and looked for the building.
"I'm not seeing anything that looks remotely like an office building."
"That's because it's down underground. I would hate to be in this humid air as well." Malcolm started to walk down a trail that looked like sand clumped together.
The office was sad if you didn't know where the rest was. A little fashionable shack stuck out of the ground, and around the shack was a small arena of dried tall grass.
Malcolm and Keenu entered the building. The fresh breeze of dry air hit them. It smelled like cleaning products and the salty smell of a sound. Malcolm shifted to the receptionist, while Keenu piddled with the water fountain.
In about 30 minutes, Keenu and Malcolm were finally permitted to enter the office space, despite having all their card in order. A few people got in randomly, even someone delivering food to their wife that they wouldn't give out the name for.
Malcolm could careless, counting he was diving into a great article on "How to make a cake without baking," while Keenu constantly got up, went to the bathroom and walked back to the water fountain.
The elevator was actually slower than the one in plane 003. It didn't creak or groan like the one that haunted plane 003. But it shifted a little too much for comfort.
Malcolm and Keenu forced their way through the door, due to the fact that there was apparently a broken outlet, and they decided to call everyone and their mother to come and fix it.
The office that they had was a little smaller than the office that Keenu and Malcolm worked in. Though it seemed like an overpriced rip-off of a perfect office space.
The meeting room was no different. The chairs were faux leather and the tables were glistening with wood dye.
Malcolm sat near the door, while Keenu wanted to get himself into the meeting and sat up front. Four more people came into the luxury room. And Malcolm was the only Planes Lawyer that decided to show up. Or maybe the only one that actual did their work in order to get to this "meeting".
It was slow and dull at the beginning as if they were attempting to sell the workers their own product that the workers made. Mr. Madge Parpin was the leader in this whole ordeal..... kinda the leader. Madge sat in the back and introduced the speakers blandly.
At around 4:39 PM, the meeting went downhill. There was three breaks, an improv speech, and they gave the people time to fill out surveys that they wrote quickly on a Mircosoft Word and printed out. Malcolm could still feel the heat coming off of the papers from the printer when they gave them out.
2 more hours in and one person already dropped out. Malcolm was being pushed for time, and he was not prepared for this long of a "meeting"
They finally gave their goodbyes, not even talking about the soul storing files, or the numbers to back the places up. Malcolm gladly left, while Keenu wanted to talk to the people more about these numbers. Malcolm rushed Keenu out, telling him he'll get the numbers. The continuation of the outlet problem led into the evening. Half of the people previously there finally left. But roughly 8 people still were crowding the already skinny halls.



The trip home was a touch clumsier than the trip too. Malcolm landed on his knees, scraping them lightly, while Keenu attempted to shoulder roll. Though that turned into a disaster since he balanced on his shoulder as he dropped off. Malcolm dusted himself off, and put his glasses back on, while Keenu walked around to the office.
"Can I ask you something?" Malcolm said
"Yeah, sure what?"
"Leave Maddox alone."
"Malcolm, where did this come from-"
"Just leave him alone."
Malcolm walked to the front of Keenu, almost power walking back up the stairs.
7:43
Malcolm got onto the elevator, closing the doors before Keenu could say anything about "Hold the doors"
The refreshing "speed" of the elevator made going up to the 83rd floor all the better. Malcolm walked back to his office, closing the doors and looking around. Maddox had already left, though it seemed as if he left just now. Malcolm sat down, finally relaxing in bliss quiet rather than the arguing and makeshift meetings.
Malcolm looked to the side of him and opened a small box that squeaked from use. In it was the last 6 hours paperwork, along with a few questionable notes.
Malcolm could feel the change again. The cold ink touching the dry paper. He looked at his hands for the phenomenon. He felt a cold chill as if he push on a fresh coat of fur that was chilled. He soon warmed up to the shift, rubbing his hands together from the glossy coat.
Malcolm started to sign forms, surveys, and paperwork.
It seemed as if Malcolm was working overtime again.
Too bad his overtime pay is being spent on another broken outlet.

[WanSham]

◄ ►{Florida's back in a dead-beat shack}◄ ►

☾ ◯ ☽

☾ ◯ ☽

Waking up to fake hell-fire at your door is a bit much for one morning. But after waking up to it for the past year it soon gets annoying. Maddox took to this sudden rise in temperature by turning on his AC up a degree every day, constantly changes his doors due to scorch marks, and constantly has to replace his houses panels.
While Malcolm just keeps a sprinkler on his house.
Though he does enjoy the moment when Maddox starts to whine about his house when such a simple solution rests under Maddox's Chicagoan nose.
Occasionally, Malcolm waters Maddox's house. Though that's only if his house will actually catch on fire.
So far he has burned his house over three times. Though one of those was from his dryer when it decided to glitch and add on an extra two hours, along with allowing the temperature to do as it pleases. Which was definitely fun after the flames. Maddox had to borrow Malcolm's jacket suits in order to meet dress codes. Which was a little worse than not coming to work without a jacket, since he looked as if a ten-year-old with adult's oversized jacket.
This led to Malcolm teasing Maddox occasionally. Though this was nothing comparing to the undying love of the jacket that Keenu felt. All in all, it was a horrifying week until payday.

The portal shot out Malcolm and Maddox into the plane 001. The air was humid, along with the disastrous smell of 50 different multi-cultural restaurants. Maddox looked around, wondering why they were in the bottom of the U.S.
"Uhm- Malcolm. Why are we in Florida?"
"Because some idiot brought their pal back to life and we have to take care of the situation."
"Why don't we just leave the guy alone?"
"Not too fair to the next person that requires that energy. Don't you think?" Malcolm removed his jacket, forgetting about the tattoo that chilled on his top arm. Maddox walked over, poking the image lightly.
"Malcolm, when did an ol' fashion guy like you ever get a tattoo?"
"When I learned that I shouldn't poke people's arm. Knock it off." Malcolm pushed off.
"Fine. Just where is this guy?"
"Uhuhmm.. 487 Seashore Avenue," Malcolm read from a stick note from his pocket.
"And what do we do?"
"Ask him to come with us. If he doesn't comply, then we kidnap him." Malcolm said plainly.
"Wha-"
"It'll be fine."
Malcolm walked down to the streets, taking out his phone and looking at the maps.
"We go..that way?" Malcolm questioned.

The people on the beach seemed a little too.... calm. Especially when a lanky, blonde haired, suited person just walks down the street with a tail made out of mist, along with blooming wings on his back. They commented constantly on his outfit. "Cool tail" this and "Sweet halo-thing" that.

The trip itself was odd. The houses were all out of place. One jutted near the street, while another seemed like it wasn't meant to be there. There was also this strange lawn that Malcolm never saw before. Maddox had to take a minute to explain that it was fake grass and not, in fact, a new species of grass.

487 Seashore Avenue
It wasn't as glamorous as Maddox thought.
The house seemed like it didn't have a foundation. Actually, it was a mobile home. That was upgraded beyond belief.
Malcolm had no hesitation when knocking at the door. While Maddox pulled out what Malcolm thought was an umbrella. But it turned out to be a very large hunting knife.

"Maddox. Where . Did. You. Get. That." Malcolm slowly said.
"Got it from Poe."
"Why were you talking to Poe?"
"Look he started talking to me and just gave me a knife."
"Well, why do you still have it?"
"It looked' nice."
"Put it up Maddox you stupid barbarian."
Maddox aggressively threw the knife back into his sheath that was hooked inside his pants.
"When we get to the office, I swear I will rip that off of you." Malcolm knocked at the door while Maddox sulked behind Malcolm.
A man about 20-ish opened the door, a headset strapped to his head.
"Hi, I'm here to talk to Lenius Manford."
"Speaking."
"Good, so you're technically dead. Would you please come with us."
Lenius stared at Malcolm before closing the door. Malcolm hit the door again.
"Your dead let's go."
In the back, a voice yelled out. "Hurry up Lenius!"
"Look, I would love to chat, but no."
Lenius went to shut the door again. And Maddox decided this would be a great time to kick the door down. Lenius fell and got his nose clipped by the swinging door. Maddox entered and crouched next to Lenius.
"Come on, pack your things, let's go."
"Maddox, why do you have to cause a commotion?"
"Look he wasn't going to come with us, so let's just go now." Maddox started to pick up Lenius, but he jolted back into reality, pushing away Maddox from himself. He quickly let out a vivid scream, which attracted a lady, about the same age as Lenius, to the room. She emerged from the hallway, staring at the scene.
"Who are you?!"
"The guys in charge of taking people where they need to be."
"Maddox shut up." Malcolm snapped.
"Look, you need to be dead. Someone stuck up the system, and now you're out of place."
"But he-"
"He's dead. He needs to stay dead I'm sorry."
"But he's fine. He was fine when he came back and he still is."
"Yeah bu-- Did you do this?"
"Y-yeah. But what does it matter, he's fine."
"Not too fine for the next person."
Lenius was watching in confusion
Wait, I'm dead?
But-I
No-yes
How?
"You ignorant-- Don't you think that people have to leave for a reason?"
"But I--"
"Malcolm, we need to go."
Malcolm stood tall sighing at the sight of tears welling in the girl's eyes.
"Fine. Fine l-lets go."
Lenius stood up in a rush, his face blank with confusion.
"Mary. I-I am d-"
She nodded, cupping her hand to her mouth. Lenius let out a shaky sob, turning back to Maddox. Malcolm sighed, walking out of the already depressing house. He started to slowly touch and grasp the planes, pulling one closer and closer to the hole he created. Lenius was escorted out by Maddox, who was fighting to keep Mary from joining.
"We-W-we need to-please-quit!" Maddox said, shoving her away.
"We need to go, and the only reason we had to come out here is that you dabbled in the wrong place." Maddox blamed. Mary sat and stared at him, her eyes becoming a pastel pink from the grief-filled tears.
"Maddox-"
"No, no, we need to go," Maddox said. Malcolm grabbed around of Lenius's shoulder, gripping him tight.
"Lenius, we are going to jump into this white dot, and you're going to be automatically transported to plane 002, okay? They'll put you back in the right place." Malcolm slowly mumbled. Lenius looked at Malcolm with a pleading stare.
"It won't hurt."
Maddox jumped in first, followed by Malcolm and Lenius. Maddox landed out into plane 003 first. He slid back-first on the brimstone. Malcolm came next, landing on his feet, but eventually fell over once he felt that he was leaning back to much.
Lenius never came.
The hellish landscape was never quieter than that day.
Maddox stood up and stormed off back into the office. Malcolm sat down for a second, wondering what he did wrong this time.
32 minutes passed.
32 mintues of Maddox sitting in his office and groveling about tearing the family apart.
Thinking about taking that boy from his house. Just the feeling corrupted his judgment.
Malcolm walked into his office, setting his jacket back onto the rack. Maddox clicked his heel on the floor repeatedly while he worked around his desk.
☾ ◯ ☽

☾ ◯ ☽

"Maddox could yo-"
"Why did we have to do that to him."
"To who?"
"Who do you think Malcolm! We took that boy away! We did that!" Maddox snapped, standing up.
"Maddox we had to-"
"No we didn't, we didn't have to do any of that. We could have just written him down as counted for! That's it. That's all we had to do. That's .. it." Maddox said, his voice slowly diving into a soft and saddened tone. He sat back down, covering his eyes with his hand. Malcolm sat puzzled. The papers floating behind him soon drifted down.
A knock hit the hollow doors, and Keenu opened.
" I have yo--" Malcolm forced the door closed from the other side of the room, locking the door behind him.
"Maddox. This is our jobs, we have to play it fair."
"Since when is hurting two people fair? How is that fair?!"
"It's fair when they cheat death." Maddox snapped his neck to Malcolm.
"She saved him from death-"
"But using illegal means Maddox."
"But it was the right thing to do-"
"Illegal Maddox." Maddox threw his hands in the air and put his hands in his hair.
"But it-" Maddox covered himself in his arms. Malcolm sighed, walking over to Maddox. He hesitantly put his hand on his shoulder. Maddox turned his body and latched onto Malcolm's torso.
"Mad-"
"I'm sorry. " Maddox left to go, leaning back in his chair.
"I-just- Sorry," Maddox whispered. Malcolm patted Maddox on the back. Maddox stood up and walked over to the door, wiping away the pity tears on his face. Malcolm walked over and hugged Maddox.
"Sorry. I didn't know that you weren't ready for something like that." Maddox enveloped himself in Malcolm's friendly side, hugging gently back.
"Thanks, Malcolm, you uptight jerk,"
"Shush you impulsive brat."

Plane 003 just seems a bit complicated.
Apparently, there's paperwork to do in Hell.
Along with an office.
And sprinklers.
Huh.

[WanSham]

A R T
- - -Malcolm's true face-- By seadrown
- - -Back Home.-- By WanSham
- - -Hells weird -- By WanSham
- - -Heavens weird -- By WanSham
- - -Multitasking while Multitasking -- By WanSham

W R I T I N G
- - -An Odd place for an Office space [Prompt Answer]: Written by WanSham; Coded by Kuwata-- 3082 words
- - -An Office space is a Lawyers base : Written by WanSham; Coded by WanSham with the help of Kuwata -- 2332 words
- - -Improv Time and no ones Primed : Written by WanSham; Coded by WanSham with the help of Kuwata-- 1455 words
- - -Florida's back in a dead-beat shack : Written by WanSham; Coded by WanSham with the help of Kuwata-- 1701 words