as they swing back and forth, back and forth.
hes dressed differently. and his hands are together at his chest, picking at his nails. abruptly, he brings his hands up to scrub over his face. )
( harlan. ) ... ? ( the lounge is dim. it tries hard for comfort. the seating area is sunken in, making a neat conversation pit thats emptied of anyone. only remnants of life remain. blankets abandoned halfway to the floor. ...
( wary. he takes in the interior design. it gives him chills ; holding himself as he treks forward. from how numbing the walls were turning, poe nearly misses the grandeur change.
he walks back to it, squinting at the plaque. )
pillows thrown. what looks to be cue cards spattered across the floor as though dropped in a hurry, and one, caught under a table leg, reads: SOCIAL PROOF.
harlan hasnt noticed poe at all. hes watching a different set of doors ...
( then comes a new doorway. unlike the heavy, hulking mouths that harlan had led poe through before, this is a set of double doors. a plaque to one side reads: quiet lounge, production.
movement is audible beyond them. )
( hallways. long and narrow necks of laminate and linoleum, ringed by shadow where the lights fail to reach. sometimes a door interrupts the pattern. they dont give when tried, and beyond their small rectangular windows is only darkness. )
⠀⠀left, got it. ﹙nodding along, poe peels away from the glass pane to follow his friend's directions. he isn't sure what to expect. his soles squeak against the tiles, looking around for something, anything, anyone.﹚
( his nose scrunches, but he only smiles. poes not exactly touch-y feel-y. how can he complain? ) your grave? thats high praise, i might never top this.
like is an understatement. ( harlan had gotten him such precious gifts.. poe places the ornament back in the bag before ruffling the other's hair up with his sleeve. )
i 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦* it. i'll bring everything to my grave, even.
it would have been best isolated. he nods. whether he agrees or not, harlan makes a muted, sympathetic noise. he can only imagine the incursion of emails and other notifications that all needed to be fielded or otherwise redirected. ...
a sigh . his thoughts ? he’ll be frank .
“ that i haven’t a clue what HR is meant to do in this scenario . it would’ve been best isolated , privy to only a few . now my inbox is being flooded with questions i have no answers to . ”
he shrugs , but the decision was of course ,
"not as rough as you. i dont think i'd last a day in your shoes." he smiles briefly. "best either of us can do is weather the storm. itll pass."
with a flick of his hand, he gestures to the whole of the corporate building as ...