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The feeling of happiness had all but completely fled as Brooklyn; face falling and hopes crushed, slithered out of the chair and padded away to the door with a quietly-murmured "yessir" under his breath once more. The door clicked minutely shut behind him, and Brooklyn broke into an outright run.
And Mok did paperwork, the end.
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Feeling the change in atmosphere as easily as he did an approaching storm, Brooklyn hunched up his skinny shoulders nervously and darted a glance around, exhaling tersely and nodding. "Yessir. Will do, sir." He reached out with a clawed hand to gingerly pluck the map away from Mok, tucking it into his sweater vest--creating an unsubtle bulge in the fabric. "'Ow soon d'ya need anyfin'?" He asked innocently.
"As soon as possible," he replied, turning his eyes back to his desk. "As in why don't you go see if Angel has any in her room right now?" Not bothering to look up, he shooed Brooklyn away with his hand. "Please shut the door on your way out."
Blushing darkly at the mention of the strip club, Brooklyn shyly fiddled with his sleeve a moment longer, unbuttoning and rebuttoning it in a moment of silence. He had so much he was thankful for already--Angel, Broadway; friends and family, a safe place to sleep at night, lots of food and clothes. In all honesty, what he wanted he was sure Mok could not provide. So, picking up his head, the scrawny Englishman said simply, "I just want you n' mum t'be 'appy. Couldn'ask fer anyfin' else."
Mok blinked, his smiled dropping. He certainly hadn't been expecting that as a response. God, Angel really did pick out the useless runts of the litter. "Very well. Come see me when you've managed to retrieve something useful then - either here or at my house." At this he extended his hand and held out the piece of paper to Brooklyn. "Here's a map."
Figuring at the very least he could help Angel by getting the inside scoop; the lowdown, on what Mok wanted to do, Brooklyn fidgeted with a sleeve and bounced one foot against the floor, his hazel eyes fixated on Mok with a nervous flutter of lashes. "Ah--" Voice cracking, Brooklyn flashed Mok a tiny smile, his heart somersaulting from throat to stomach. "P-provided--I'm no' goin' t'be an ex--experiment, I--I guess I could say--that'm interested, sure. . ." For Angel, he'd learn all he could.
Mok chuckled, albeit a little coldly, and rested his hands on the desk, piece of paper still gripped between his fingers. "Oh no, not an experiment," he assured the gargoyle. "Actually, I was just hoping you'd use your new-found..." Mok sighed slightly and raised his hands a little to perform air quotes. "...parentage to get me back some of the things I've lost. Important documents, old jars of souls, just things you could carry away without her noticing. It'd all be very useful, and I'm sure I could find a way to make it worth your while."
Watching Mok as one might a spider in a corner, wondering when or if it was going to move (and whether or not to reach for that shoe to get it before it gets you), the young gargoyle sidled inside a bit more with a nervous half-smile and folded himself into the chair accordingly, curling one leg up to his chest and gripping it tight. "Sure fing." He swallowed and told himself to not be scared. This man couldn't hurt him. Not anymore.
He carried on smiling as Brooklyn sat down, eventually furrowing his brows, looking down and sifting through his papers once more. He was still searching through the sheets for the appropriate one when he spoke again. "...I have a proposition for you."
His slender fingers grabbed the paper he was looking for and he nodded lightly as he scanned it over. "I really have absolutely no idea as to whether you're aware of the fact that that woman claiming to be your mother when all of us, her included, know she is not has taken my island and been a general nuisance in every way but..." He lowered the piece of paper and turned his gaze to Brooklyn instead. "I've not called you here to explain the basis of such old gossip. The point of the mention is that taking my island involved taking my research and I'd rather like to start up my experiments again. I'd like you to help. Should I continue or are you really not interested?"
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Ignoring the vibrating of the phone in his pocket, Brooklyn adjusted his sweater-vest, fixed his coif as best he could, and shyly shuffled in through the door he cracked open. Closing it behind himself, the gargoyle in the sweater-vest, collared shirt, and jeans lingered by the door, staring uncertainly at Mok. My, what big lips he had. "Ah--y'asked t'see me, sir? Sorry if t'is is a--an inconvenient time, like. . ."
Watching as Brooklyn entered, Mok stretched out his spindly form and shook his head with a smile, indicating the seat before his desk. "Of course it's not inconvenient," he replied. "Please, sit. I'm sure this won't take long."
brooklyn-tar replied to your post: toddlaw-tar replied to your post: ok according to...
MOTHERFCUCKETR THAT’S SO FUCKING CLOSE I’M SDJGH SO MAD
It had taken a lot of nerve for him to even approach the door, but if there was one thing Brooklyn wasn't, it was rude. He wasn't just not going to reply to the summons--it'd be like signing his own death warrant, he figured, anyway. Mok wasn't known for being the most patient individual--and Brooklyn had a sinking feeling that he could pull strings the gargoyle couldn't even see. So he lifted a hand, knocked quickly, and stepped back. At least he'd sent a text beforehand elsewhere . . .
Mok was still sifting through disorganized papers; it was all he seemed to do lately. He still had a lot to do to get a home anywhere near the quality of his previous one. In fact, he still wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. Things had been different the first time round... the times had been different, the people had been different, the location had been different. Even now, he still couldn't be sure who was helping him, for how long or with what.
His thoughts were pulled away from him however when he heard a knock at the door and lifted his head with a small smile. That certainly hadn't taken long - finally that stupid girl had managed to do something right. Sitting back in his seat, he rested his hands on his desk and called "Come in".
