missing marks -- grim maxwell

[swing]

Slowly, this weight had been starting to settle atop his shoulders. It wasn't something that he was particularly sure he could deal with but the plan had already been orchestrated, whether or not he was ready for it. There were words for a man like him: ruthless, cold, even the one that graced the page in front of him?unmerciful. The word that he was thinking of however, didn't have anything to do with the definitions that were rifled in his brain: Guilt.

It started off with just a tremor in his fists, shaking balled fingers until they collided with the wall. That was all--one singular hammer sling of fists and he was in calm repose. Their vacation would be spent in the way that he hadn't intended at all and yet...Had he not mentioned relaxation? No, it was much more work to pretend that you were dead.

Days would pass in a relative sort of apprehension--no contact made it difficult for him to concentrate. Routine was an impossible thing to break and once it was severed, there had to be a new routine. The cathedral was passed on a daily basis but for some reason, he felt the need to turn in to it. Was it some sort of divine intervention in his life? Some sort of sign for the need of redemption? No.

This was more a statement of finding a new routine than anything else. To the side there lay the table where the Virgin mother outstretched her hands and hung on canvas like her son upon the cross. Candle spread in a sea of controlled fire before her with dipping sticks in order to light another--he lit two. They were small and less noticeable among the wicks of others, but they would become his now. A silent sort of votive for two who were still among the living.

[swing]

And he talks of people ten years gone
Like I've known them all my life
Like scattered black & whites
I come back here from time to time
I shelter here somedays
--Elbow

Funeral black was an everyday occurrence for him, though today it was most poignant. He had been waiting for this phonecall, this meeting, the chance to see their vile faces painted in something of pride. He was a fledgling who had come so far in their eyes--who had overcome his obstacle, who had...

The elevator shaft was the same dreary steel that it had been months ago when he first learned of his assignment. His spine was knotted as straight as he could manage it when the doors opened again to the three men standing infront of more--like a child lost in wonderland, he was awaiting direction and guidance, even as his guns were taken from him. He made no motion of protest and when they were sated that he was no longer a threat, they allowed him entry into a room where ten men sat in regal chairs like emperors of the same throne.

"Have a seat Mr. Maxwell."

Klavier was the first to speak with Icelandic eyes piercing through him rather than resting upon him. They were skeptics, each one that sat there with the file in front of them explaining the actual death of Julia and Kate James--numbers that came to a red lettered close at the end of this meeting. Pleased or not, each face was just as stoic as his own.

"I'd rather stand, thank you."

All pairs of stone eyes rested on him then--they were unaccustomed to his mannerisms of subtle defiance. Klavier took this as a sign that perhaps some bit of grief lingered in the corners of his eyes.

"Very well.."

The conversation started off politically slow--each voiced their opinions on matters that didn't concern him while he wound hands in a clever knot before him with a jawline stressed in the tension of waiting. Finally the words refiltered in a manner that affected him.

"Mr. Maxwell has been offered the position as our eleventh member. That is why we brought you here."

Klavier gestured with a hand and perhaps a hint of something more akin to pride than anything else towards the empty seat. Grim shifted in his stance only slightly before the pause in speech was slaughtered by his words.

"As much of an honor you'd like to make this, I'm quite certain that you only offered me this position because of the recent events in Maldives. I would like to make it perfectly clear that I am not here to win your approval or acceptance to a position based solely on my ability to follow directions."

Klavier stood when Grim paused, his jaw locked in anger while the stoic faces of those present crackled into looks of panic. They had branded him with the word "volatile" since the beginning, even when they surrogated his spine with viral codes.

"That is no--"

"I am not a child who needs to prove their worth in this organization if you desire me to accept this position so badly. Have I ever given you a reason to think that I am anything but loyal? No, so I will take this insult with as much dignity as I can and gracefully decline the position offered. Let your hounds fight over it."

Survive. The word resounded in his ears even after he left a board room full of aghast men, the weight on his shoulders lightened temporarily but he was waiting for everything to crash down on him.
--
Two days after the events involving the inner workings of The Order, Grim had packed most of his things in the apartment--a barebones structure with little left in it any way. (Hollow hearts make hollow homes.) Words replayed from a letter written in foreign but familiar handwriting jarred his thoughts and deafened him to the sound of cracking wood. Some how, he already knew this was coming.

Three men slipped in like serpents--the two that flanked Klavier were simply used to tear the lock off the door. Feet clacked against floorboards and Grim straightened from his position near a box on the living room floor.

"Mr. Maxwell, are you leaving us so soon?"

Grim addressed the window instead of the man who stood behind him.

"You broke my door, I suppose I need to find a place of better security."

The motion in which Klavier sent the other two men out was swift--a quiet swish of expensive suit fabric and then he was stalking across the room towards Grim.

"The door is the least of your problems, Mr. Maxwell."

Grim turned to face him, almost immediately with a look on his face and exposed the idle threat for what it was--a fallacy with little strength behind it. His arms folded behind him, not out of propriety, just out of comfort--the handle of his gun rested at a strange angle along a mangled spine.

"You came here to threaten me or to act on your threats Mr. Klavier?"

"Arrogance is your fatal flaw." The words from his mouth were hissed as a hand rose to strike him, but instead filtered through a pocket to pick out a cigar. "I want to know why, Mr. Maxwell, you turned down such an offer...One that could offer more security than the gun you're so intent on using."

"I already told you why. Your organization only chose me because of my efficiency, which was tested and shouldn't have been. I don't make a habit out of missing marks, the same way you oughtn't make a habit of smoking in someone else's house."

At this, Grim's hand shot forward to swat the cigar away from Klavier who in turn, sent arthritic knuckles into the side of his face.

"I have been waiting to do that all day."

"Was it what'd you'd hoped?"

Grim was still standing, just resetting his jaw that was starting to swell in red blotches where he had been struck. Klavier only shook his head and sighed.

"You are going to take the position, regardless of your feelings towards me or any other member on the board."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll kill you."

At this, Grim's gun was brought forth and the safety was thrown off but instead of pointing it at the man infront of him, he offered out the handle.

"Go ahead."

[swing]

So here I sit, completely dumbfounded as to the events of tonight. I know now what a luau swine must feel like before the big roast, though there was nothing so pleasant as an apple that was stuck in my mouth. I suppose I should begin at the beginning in order to better convey the events of tonight and try to get a grasp on understanding them.

It has been seven months since Julia's death has been faked and tonight was wine and cake night--a half birthday if you will. I had settled on something vintage and a slice of chocolate cake, with Peter Gabriel in my stereo as a relaxer because my door, though fixed, still rattles. A few hours later I decided to sleep. I realize now that may've been a mistake.

Not because I didn't need the sleep but because, if I knew I were to be kidnapped? I would have dressed for the occasion. My Peter Gabriel shirts are not to be trifled with and I think there is a hole in it now. Either way, I was kidnapped, thrown into a van and before the tranquilizers set in, thrown onto an aircraft.

When I was awoken, my handlers shuffled me in to what I later found to be a warehouse, removed the bag over my head and left me there. I figured they left the restraints on so that I wouldn't kill whatever was just beyond the pool of light that was blinding me. As it turns out? It was Julia.

So you see, I'm not so sure why she had to kidnap me when she could have just called. Then again, she wears the pantsuits.

[swing]

(intermission.)

Part One.

Full Name: Graham Stewart Maxwell
Goes by..: Grim
Current location: New York, New York.
Description: An apartment.
Occupation: I have one.
Current age: 33.
Date of birth: November 11, 1970.
Birthplace: London, England
Name(s), age(s), and occupation(s) of parent(s):
Deceased.
Name(s), age(s), and occupation(s) of sibling(s):
Deceased
.Height:6'1"
Weight: 170.
Hair color: Blonde.
Eye color: Blue.
Left-, right-handed, or ambidextrous: Ambidextrous.
Heritage/Nationality: English.
Religion: Terrorism.
Education:
Oxford Graduate.
Marital status: Widowed.
Children: Julia, oh.. Of my own? none.

Part Two.

Likes: Not very much.
Dislikes: A lot.
Phobias: None.

Part Three: Do you...

Smoke: Yes.
Curse: Bloody well.
Sing well: No.
Sing in the shower: Yes.
Talk to yourself: No.
Believe in yourself: I believe in my self control.
Play an instrument: No.
Want to go to college?: No.
Want to get married?: I killed the last wife.
Want to have children?: Yes. But, that's just my secret.
Think you're a health freak?: I know enough to survive.
Get along with your parents?: No, they're dead.
Get along with your siblings?: Again.

Part Four: Current...

Clothes: A black suit, I believe this is Prada.
Mood: Silly?
Music: Some of Julia's singing..If you call it that.
Taste: Dinner.
Make-up: No?
Hair-style: It's growing out, because someone has an issue with my style.
Annoyance: Julia and her threats on Mr. Gabriel.
Smell: Julia's house.
Book you're reading: Eye, David Schow.
CD in CD Player: The Police - Greatest Hits.
DVD in player: Peter Gabriel, in concert.
Refreshment: Water.
Worry: Who I'll shoot first, Julia or myself if she keeps singing.

Part Five: Favorites:

Food: Chicken.
Drink: Red Wine.
Color: White.
Album: Anything Peter Gabriel.
Shoes: The ones I have on, thank you.
Candy: Dots.
Animal: Rats, purely for annoyance's sake.
TV Show: Alias. It's the only thing Julia and I can agree on.
Movie: Snatch.
Song: Salsbury Hill, Peter Gabriel.
Girl's name: Julia or Petera.
Boy's name: Julian or Peter.
Vegetable: Broccoli.
Fruit: Clementines.

Part Six:

If I were a month, I'd be: Febuary.
If I were a day of the week, I'd be: Wednesday.
If I were a time of day, I'd be: Dusk.
If I were a planet, I'd be: Saturn.
If I were a sea animal, I'd be: A sea-horse, they get to carry their young.
If I were a direction, I'd be: Road Closed.
If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be: A plate that Julia could throw.
If I were a sin, I'd be: ...Any one of the seven.
If I were a historical figure, I'd be: Ghandi.
If I were a liquid, I'd be: Merlot.
If I were a tree, I'd be: A birch.
If I were a bird, I'd be: A lark.
If I were a flower, I'd be: A rose.
If I were a kind of weather, I'd be: The apocalypse.
If I were a mythical creature, I'd be.: Hades.
If I were a musical instrument, I'd be: A piano.
If I were an animal, I'd be: A snake.
If I were a color, I'd be: Black.
If I were an emotion, I'd be: Desperation.
If I were a vegetable, I'd be: Corn.
If I were a sound, I'd be: Air.
If I were an element, I'd be: Gold.
If I were a car, I'd be: An Aston Martin, Vantage.
If I were a song, I'd be: Oh, anything by the Police.
If I were a movie, I'd be: Face off.
If I were a food, I'd be: A scone.
If I were a place, I'd be: Liverpool.
If I were a material, I'd be: sulfer.
If I were a taste, I'd be: acidic.
If I were a scent, I'd be: The ocean.
If I were a religion, I'd be: Terrorism.
If I were a word, I'd be: bulletproof.
If I were an object, I'd be: A love bullet.
If I were a body part, I'd be: broken bones.
If I were a facial _expression, I'd be: A snarl.
If I were a part of a house, I'd be: The laundry chute.
If I were a subject in school, I'd be: Math.
If I were a cartoon character, I'd be: ...
If I were a shape, I'd be a: Shapely.
If I were a number, I'd be: Imaginary.

[swing]

He was poured over a legal pad on the living room coffee table while she spun back and forth between the kitchen counter and the living room. A pen was angled in his hand--ready to stab through the paper in frustration, where her hand was noosed around the neck of a wine bottle with a finger stabbing towards him.

"Why do you look like you're drawing up a strategy for Risk or..." Her smile curved into something mischievous. "Writing a love letter."

At the mention of the words 'love letter', his face visibly contorted into violence incarnate (because he looked as if he had swallowed a lemon, rind and all). "What I am doing, is of no concern to you."

"Aha! So it is a love letter." Ana swayed as if some invisible violinist had begun to play her favorite love song. "Here, I'll help you. No way of dealing with this feeling...Can't go on like this too long.."

Without warning Grim flung his pen at her, making contact with her arm. It was one thing to make fun of him, but to include Peter Gabriel in that was intolerable. "Oh come off it will you!"

She laughed at him and offered the bottle his way. "Someone needs to untwist their knickers....It's okay, you know, if you are writing a love letter. I won't bother you."

Grim moved as if to intercept the bottle graciously but instead grabbed her forearm and forcefully guided her towards the door where he deposited her outside and slammed his door shut. Satisfied, he moved back towards the couch when he heard a palm slamming into the wooden door.

"Graham! I need my purse!"

The muffled sound was greeted with a hand dangling the desired item through a sliver of an opening. Once it was snatched he stalked back over to the couch and wrote down his first terms for ceasefire.

Must not consort with Anastasia.

[swing]

The sun was a bright contrast to the worn ash color of the warped picnic table that he sat upon. His watch hadn't been checked at all, though he knew that David would be late. David was always late when it came to cryptic appointments, though out of the corner of a shaded eye--he saw the high strung man staggering across the field in front of him. A smirk crossed his face before it was washed off by a swipe of his palm. David sneezed into a tissue a few times before offering a nervous smile.

"H-Hey Grim. I just got your message."

"Allergies?"

"What?!"

Grim pointed towards the hand that was holding the Kleenex. "Allergies. Are they bothering you?"

"OH! Oh, yes a little I guess." He was searching for the nearest bin to throw the Kleenex into before stuffing hands into his pockets.

"Are....You going to just stand, or have a seat?"

"Uh...Right." David slid onto the bench across from him and settled hands along the warped wood. "So.. What's the big deal?"

"How are you and Christy?"

".....Fine...Hey! If this is about Karen man I'--"

Grim held up his hand to stop David's ramble and David simply cringed a bit.

"This isn't about Karen. I'm simply asking how you are doing."

"....Why?"

"I can't...ask you how you are?"

"Well....you can, but you didn't. You asked about Christy and I."

"Fine." Grim gritted his teeth and folded hands on the table top. "How are you, David?"

"I....am good?" David stared at Grim with an incredulous look. "Why?"

"Because I was asking how you were you twit!" Grim slammed his hand down on the table. "Is it really that bloody hard to answer a question?"

"I just wanted to know why because you never have before!" David was nearly cowering under the table by that point.

"Well, I am making an effort now. Please. I'm not going to hit you."

David peered up from the table, before finally righting himself."So.......How are you then?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Fantastic. Is that a better answer?"

"There's the Grim we know and love!"

"You're not funny, David."

"Julia thinks I am."

David's smug tone made Grim wish he hadn't mentioned that he wasn't going to slap him.

"I highly doubt that."

"Why? Just because she doesn't l--"

"Actually, no. That's a lie David."

"WHAT?!"

It was a sound that seemed to echo through the open space that surrounded them. Grim just broke into an enigmatic grin.

"If I repeated it, David, I'd have to kill you."

[swing]

"Hey man it's David. Give me a call, I wanted to talk to you about having a dinner thing at Christy's? She said that Karen ran into you and Julia the other night and wondered if maybe we could all do something. Karen's dying to show you guy ssome interior design plans she made I guess, I don't really know, but I thought I should just call and let you know. So, remember to call me back."

The "erase" button was pushed as Grim rifled through his gourmet blends of coffee in search of Thursday's mix.

"Hey. It's David again. You haven't called me back and Christy's been asking about it, you're not mad at me or anything are you? Well, just give me a call back."

Grim rolled his eyes and started the coffee before he heard the voice of his cousin.

"Grahm, it's Ana. I just called to say....I told you so and I hope you were nice to her!"

The glass was nearly smashed in his hand as he fumbled to set it down. One thought wrang out in his mind over and over:

So much for secrecy.

[swing]

Goa was bustling with tourists content to soak up the rays of the sun that beat on white sand and turned the ocean into a vivid blue. The television was blaring some disney movie that Kate had selected for their afternoon indoors--Julia was inevitably ignoring him again (a comment or two had made them draw an invisible line along the room) and his phone seemed to only pick up static when he attempted to answer it. Eventually he found that standing near the window (where the sun was impossibly bright) allowed him a better connection.

"Having fun?"

He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose before even bothering to respond. The only thing more annoying than the sound of his cousin's voice, was perhaps the sound of her voice in person.

"What do you want?"

He was sure that Julia was snickering from her corner and his urge to flip her off was only deterred due to the fact that his ear was assaulted with a high pitched volt of interference. The phone was held away from his ear a moment, hoping that she might hang up.

"See what happens when you're an asshole?"

"I'm really very busy so if you cou--"

"Busy watching The Little Mermaid?"

"Kate is--"

"Suuuuuure she is. You don--"

"Oh bloody stuff it won't you?"

Grim attempted to walk away from the window, but the static became overwhelming again, so he was confined to his space.

"Someone's crabby. "

"Ana, I really don't have time fo--"

"I took your car out."

"WHAT?!"

Grim shouted into the phone loudly, only to receive stares which he was sure were coming his way and laughter from the other end of the line.

"You're so predictable."

"I'm hanging up now."

"I figured I'd call and try and be nice because I'm sure Julia's had it with your ass."

"Well I appreciate the gesture but I am fine."

"Maybe you should try and get some sun, it'll help you to not be so grumpy."

"Maybe you should try and--"

His words were cut short as the movie's chorus piped up and he remembered that he wasn't in any position to make threats. Instead he folded his phone closed and put it back into his pocket, vowing to check the caller I.D. before he answered it next time.

[swing]

He tried to watch the landscape as a glimpse of paradise rather than home. The continent had become that way--a home, when skin had darkened enough not to feel the blaze of the sun upon it and then settled feeling had finally subsided. Kate had inevitably run off with her friends in a flurry of color and that only left Julia, who would most likely not let him make this phone call in peace. Which was why he had walked down to the edge of the ocean--just in case he needed to throw his phone to the bottom. He hesitated before dialing the numbers, because he already knew what he would hear on the other end. Sighing, he punched them in and held his breath while the phone rang. And rang.

And rang.

Scowling, he removed the phone from his ear just as she answered with something he didn't quite catch. The phone was pressed back to his ear as he shielded his face from the sun.

"What?"

"I said, if you have this number you're obviously calling about something important. So what do you want....Graham."

Her voice lifted in what he imagined to be a rather gruesome smirk as she said his name. He bit back the need to correct her, and instead adapted a pained happiness to his voice.

"Glad to hear you're doing well Anastasia."

"As well as one can in the Caribbean. So what do you want?"

"You're in the Caribbean? I thought you we--"

"I know you want something, so if we could leave my unfortunate series of events out of it and get to your point, that'd be excellent."

Grim sighed and mumbled something incoherent at the harsh words from the other end. Perhaps he should hang up now and claim he lost connection, that way he wouldn't have to call her again.

"Gra--"

"Yes. My point is, Julia wants you to come for holiday."

"If Julia wants me to come for holiday, why didn't she call me?"

Grim smeared a hand over his face as the indignant tone in her voice rose. He needed something to throttle and the closest thing was an ocean away. "Because, Ana. I...."

"You....?"

"I....w--" Taking in a deep breath he let out the string of words that seemed to be blockaded in his throat. "was supposed to call you, since you are my family."

"Oh, I see." The pause on the other end made him anxious. "Well, perhaps you should call me when you want me to come as well, because otherwise...."

He had just found his loophole. She wasn't going to come. She wasn't going to come!

"I'm just going to embarrass the hell out of you when I get there."

He groaned against her laughter as static began to interfere with their conversation.

"Keep yourself booked for the next few months then, Ana."

"What about Trump? You're breaking up."

"Nevermind. I'll call you later."

[swing]

India's sun rose and crept through blinds the same as it had for the past months that they had been there but something about it seared through his skin. Pale eyes opened blindly toward the source of disturbance as he shifted away from it -- unsteady on his feet because he had just regained cognitive function, his hand fumbled for the dresser to keep him upright. Breath seemed to catch in his throat as he righted himself and reached for the door handle.

The house was too quiet -- he watched as the dark haired (Kate now included) children ran in circles out front, their mouths open in laughter but it was muted. The furniture and walls bled into a haze that diffused their edges until fingers fumbled daftly along their edges. If the television was on, or Julia was behind it, he didn't notice. He didn't notice anything until he was pulling open the refrigerator door and grabbing a water.

Half of the clear bottle was poured down his throat before he moved to set it on the counter and it dropped to the floor, crashing into his foot first. Spine yielded in a rickety fashion as he moved to sweep up the bottle and slurred his words in order to produce some kind of sound that came out more like a groan of old age than anything else. A towel swept along the floor to soak up the splashes that still lingered on the floor in crystalline droplets before he wandered back into his room.

Vision began to clear as he picked up his phone and pushed numbers into it. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like taffy as he chanted the name over and over again in an attempt to get whatever picked up on the other end to understand that something was wrong.

"David. David. David. David...."