Banjo was lugging his footlocker over from the Intake House to his new House over in Strigidae. Awkwardly-sized to carry, but not overly heavy since he had recently "juiced". He'd never really paid attention to the House situation on initial Orientation, he hadn't much cared at the time, he just figured he could ask questions when the time actually became pertinent and someone would point the way.
So he was extremely pleasantly surprised when he came upon the building where he'd be housed and saw multiple banners.
The orange owl he'd chosen hung from one side of the house... but also a brown bear on the other.
He dropped his footlocker and laughed a sharp cackle at his good fortune. They may not have shared the same house, but their houses shared the same building.
This was even better. They weren't in
THE SAME house, so they wouldn't get under each other's feet. It'd give him a buffer. Maybe stretch out the amount of time before she realised he's a bit of a dickhead. But they were still in the same building, so it made seeing each other a lot easier.
He'd fallen arse-backwards into the best possible situation.
He bent back down to pick up his footlocker and found a short blonde emerge from the front door, and with a small shriek of joy at another large box, only slightly smaller than the footlocker he carried, that was awaiting her on the front doorstep. She rushed back inside, presumably to get some kind of dolly truck or help to take the large box inside.
Banjo sighed, walked to the porch and stacked the box on top of the footlocker he was already carrying, and, carefully straightening his knees to keep the box from sliding off, began to carry everything inside.
"Ohhhh, thanks!" The blonde said as she returned with a dolly truck, running a hand through her blonde hair as she sized him up. A little lean for her tastes, but he did seem deceptively strong. Banjo sighed and moved on to where someone else was waiting, as she followed.
"Hey, I'm just checking in for my room. I know I'm late, but, well-- yeah. Anyway, my name's... ah shit, what am I down there as again--?" He tried to remember the surname he was going by.
"Oh shit, it's you!" The guy exclaimed, in excited surprise. He hadn't been exactly sure what to expect when the last name on the accommodations list had been crossed off. But immediately made the connection from the accent.
"That's right!" Adrianna added, not quite aware that she wasn't the one being recognised.
"Yeah, sure, man! You go right on in! Uhh-- level 5! Call out for Zimmerman, he's always in his dorm, he'll set you up!""Cheers, cob'." He said, walking away.
"You're awesome!" The guy called back. Pointing, then changing his hand to a fist in solidarity.
"Thank you!" Adie replied, as she led the way to the elevator.
"So what room am I taking this box to?" He asked the short blonde, who he also in kind, didn't recognise. The elevator doors opened.
"Oh, you move fast..." She said with a giggle, boarding the elevator, pressing her '4', his '5' and spreading her arms across the handrail, biting her bottom lip.
"What?" He said, baffled by the comment as he stepped onboard himself.
"Oh please. Acting like you don't recognise me. But deciding to pick up MY box. Trying to find out which room I'm in..." Adie numbered off his apparent transgressions.
"You're cute and I'm flattered. But the act's getting old.""I have no idea who you arrrrre... Ariana Dale?" He said misreading the name by the address for the box, because he couldn't get a good angle on it.
"And I picked up the box because you're tiny and I just juiced. So to me... it ain't heavy, just awkwardly sized. And yeah. I want to know what room the box goes to. What are you, one of those 'influencers' or something?"Adrianna flushed red with rage as her entire career led to her being mischaracterised as 'an influencer or something'.
"Adrianna. Dahl. As in Fortune 500s Adrianna Dahl. As in former C.E.O. of D.O.T.C.O.M. As in Producer of 1 Billion in downloaded apps, Adrianna Dahl." She scowled, spitting through gritted teeth.
"Oh.""Oh?!?""Yeah. Oh. I-- don't have a phone.""You don't have a--" Suddenly she realised he was telling the truth. The humm around him was strangely silent. Her face screwed up in bafflement.
"What kind of caveman are you..?""Waaaaait... you thought I was trying to make a move on you.""Shut up!""What kind of caveman am I..? What's the gravity like on the planet you're from?""Shutup-Shutup-Shutup!""Lady, I'm seventeen." He said as the doors opened. The use of 'Lady' just driving home another wound.
"Ohmigod would you shut up!" She said as she stepped out. Raising her palms as if desperate to just push the entire situation away from her.
"Sure, sure. Where do you want the box?""Just-- put it down and go already.""Done. I'm out." He put both boxes down, removed the top box and laid it at her feet, before picking his footlocker back up and hitting the button for the elevator which instantly opened. Adie had technopatically held the lift on their floor til this horiffic situation could be whisked away, anyone else wanting the lift would just have to wait.
The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor, and Banjo alighted with his big box o' everything.
It was far quieter than the communal hustle and bustle of downstairs.
"Hey! Zimmerman!" He called out into the silence.
After a few seconds a head poked out of a doorway into the hall.
"Yeeeah..?" The head offered tentatively.
"Yeah, you've got a room in there for me.""Oh so you're Andr--""Banjo." He corrected.
"But the name you probably got given was 'Andrew Olyphant' or something like that. Anyway, can I chuck this stuff on inside?" He asked, slapping the sides of the footlocker with his fingers.
"Ban-- Banjo?" The diminutive kid's eyes doubled.
"Yeah, yeah, sure man. Just let me get the door."Zimmerman scurried around the door and held it open for him, giving him a wide berth.
Banjo walked in, and was stunned at the size of the place. He'd been in a lot of boarding schools, but even the fanciest, which most 'catered to the elite' still had nothing on the living space. Along with a large kid reading a comic on a long sectional couch who seemed completely non-plussed by his presence.
"Bloody Hell..." He exclaimed.
"Ye-- Yeah, pretty good, eh?" Zimmerman said with a smile.
"Anyway, I'm Alex. The guy lying on the couch is 'Big Steve' and yeah... welcome to our humble abode!" Alex started to get more excited. Jittery.
"Kitchen. Bathroom. Laundry. Tv... I mean, obviously. Of course there's another in your-- oh, right! Your room!"Alex led the way to a door, grabbed the handle and opened it. Revealing an exorbitantly sized bedroom for a boarding house.
"You can put your box down in there."Banjo walked around the room. It allowed a small amount of natural light through a single small south-facing window. Banjo considered this and wondered how far he could push his luck.
"Any chance I could snatch up one of the southern bedrooms?""Uhh--" Alex considered a door which had been locked up tight since Banjo had gotten there.
"Well, Big Steve has the other northern bedroom, and then there's-- you know what. Just take mine. I'll move my stuff in there now. Gimme five minutes.""It's just-- I just got out of hospital, and natural sunlight's good for me.""Yeah, no, don't worry about it, don't mention it..." Alex scurried around moving his stuff into the other bedroom.
"You might want to wash the bedding and stuff, but other than that I try to keep it clean. Just let me know if you find any of my stuff that I missed still floating around."Banjo reached up on Alex's shelf and grabbed a toy Superman figurine.
"Hey, whoa, got that. Let me just take that off you... Thanks.""You blokes like comics..? Gimme a minute, let's see what I've got here..."Banjo put his footlocker down in the once-Zimmerman's-now-his bedroom and opened up the industrial storage sized padlock that kept it locked. Flipping the lid back. He started digging through the detritus of his life until he produced a handful of dog-eared and slightly torn up
Phantom comics.
"Bloke who drives me round, if there's a major city fair when we're there he scoops me a couple of showbags. Gets me one with these, and a Bertie Beetle bag every time. But you want to have a look-see, go for it."Alex took the books, that were in such a state of disrepair they made him considerably nervous that this Banjo might ever touch his own things, and returned an attempt at a smile.
"The Phantom. This is like that Billy Zane movie, yeah?" "Whoa... they're black and white?""Yeah, they're made on that newspaper paper type. Keeps them cheap, I s'pose. Whaddayou call it--""Pulp.""Yeah, that!""Anyway, you want to go grab the stuff out of the room they assigned you and bring it in here. You've got some school uniforms and books and stuff."He re-hung the school clothes in the closet, which looked bare as he still kept his other clothes and belongings in his footlocker. And brought back an arm full of his schoolbooks which he dumped into the footlocker, before locking it back up.
He looked in his pocket at the envelope he'd scooped off his desk, and opening it read some garbage about how he'd 'Made the right choice' from some House Captain or Team Spirit leader or who-gives-a-shit who. He slid the letter back in and flung the envelope to sights unseen within the darkest corners of his new room somewhere.
Banjo left the room and looked down from the living quarters. Far below was a pool, patio, barbecue and hot tub. He remembered back to that night about Calliope not feeling comfortable in a state of undress in front of him... but maybe things would be different in a bathing suit? He started to plot his plots, and plan his plans, as gears turned.
"Oh, you're looking at the pool." Alex Zimmerman stated the obvious.
"Ever have building wide parties down there, or anything like that?""Heh. YEAH they do."Banjo straightened up.
"They?""Yeah, but, y'know. We're not really invited.""Invited? You live here. It's implied.""Yeeeah, but they wouldn't really want us down there."Banjo raised his eyebrows in disbelief at what he was hearing.
"If I only ever went to places I was wanted, I wouldn't go anywhere. Anyway, I've gotta go see a bloke about something. Don't wait up." He left, closing the door behind him.
"Huh. That went well. Seriously, he's THAT Banjo kid?""I can't believe you just gave him your room.""No, no! This'll work out, see. Because HE'S cool. He'll open doors and get us in places.""Didn't you hear him? He doesn't get invited. He just goes.""I know! And how cool is that!"Big Steve turned the page and continued reading his comic book.
"I dunno. I'm just not sure I ever heard of 'Cool' being a transferrable property. Call me skeptical. Look just... don't get your hopes up. We don't know anything about the guy.""Uhh... we know he's cool, and a fucking SCHOOL HERO right now. What else is there to know?"Big Steve shook his head and kept reading.
The Butler and Banjo walked up and down the aisles of the fishing tackle shop. The Butler had a cheap white Captain's hat on him which to Banjo looked ridiculous, and he didn't hesitate to tell him as much.
"You didn't tell me we had 'Boat money'.""That's because WE don't have 'Boat money'. I have 'Boat money'. Just like I had squirreled away 'Downpayment for a House in the Alumni Village' money. 'WE' have 'Pay Your Tuition for a school which covers those costs in other ways and doesn't ask us for so much as five cents' money.""Have you ever even taken a boat out on the water?""Yeeees, mate, I have taken a boat out on the water. I have had a life outside of driving you about the bloody place." He rolled his eyes, exasperated at the younger one's incessant questioning and doubts towards his capabilities.
He carried the large tacklebox, whilst Banjo hefted the plastic bags of bait that he'd ask for.
"Right, Gene. I'll take the tacklebox, the bait, and anything else you've got to recommend putting in the tacklebox. Oh, and all on the card. Cheers. Ta.""And that'll be all?""That'll be all for today, Gene." He paid for everything, and a receipt spurted out, which he quickly scrawled and signed.
"Well, catch you next time, Harry! Best of luck!" 'Harry'! Banjo thought to himself, and slapped a palm down on the bench over the receipt. Finally, he'd slipped up and given him something. A smirk crossed the Butler's face.
Banjo looked down at the receipt.
"Oh, Ha Ha. Very bloody funny."The smirk on the Butler's face widened.
Banjo held the receipt up to the man behind the counter.
"You know he's not Harold Bloody Holt, right?""The payments clear." He shrugged.
"Who's Harold Holt?""Former Prime Minister of Australia. He disappeared one day in the '60s when he went for a swim.""And a bloody long swim to Canada it was, too. Catch ya next time, Gene!" The Butler said, picking up his purchases and heading for the door.
"Bye Harry!" Was the returning farewell. Banjo quietly seethed.
The Butler laughed as the pair got outside.
"You really thought you bloody had me there, didn't you?""We've been living these lives for how long now? And you really think I don't have my shit down pat?""I need a phone.""Awww not this garbage again, we've been over this...""It's different now. I need to be able to airdrop assignments. It's becoming increasingly weird that I DON'T have one to people around me.""The people around you who are alive, yeah? And it's pretty nice that they are. So how about we keep it that way?""Look, could you at least EXPLAIN it to me properly so that it makes sense, and then maybe none of this would be necessary.""Mate, it's not my place to tell.""Why can't I have a normal FUCKING life?!" He exploded.
"I get dragged around the country for a decade and a half, then flown overseas just to be told 'Yeah, we're settling you down here' but you still can't have the bas--""Alllright. Enough of the sob story. Look. I'll see what I can do. But no promises. This is-- it's not the best time. It's a shitty time really. I've got to talk to someone."- - -
Cyberlad
Qia
Half Pint
Festive
mickilennial
AndyC
Sep
Roman
Rockette
Lord Wraith
... as Banjo would say "Aww mate. Don't be that prick."
