Mr. Julius Glee - President

Welcome, my dear citizen! My name is Julius Glee, founder and president of StrexCorp Synernists Incorporated! I am very glad that you are visiting our house on this lovely day, and if you need any help, please do not hesitate to directly address me! I will gladly answer any and all questions. I love you, please do never forget that!

[mendelsohnben]

domestic!Hannibal (◡‿◡✿)

[thepundemonium]

All my life I’ve been wanting to be Steve Rogers, but somehow I ended up as Tony Stark. Well not exactly but you know.

[He/his/him]

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

Aleis needed to visit Mr. Glee. She wanted- closure maybe? To thank him, certainly. And yet, she still felt the inexplicably urge to turn back and run home, even as she thanked Dr. Falkner for escorting her to the room.

The light in the room was dim, but of a warm colour, similar to candle light. Julius Glee was lying in a bed on the opposite side of the room, his right forearm and hand in a cast, and his eyes closed, as if he was sleeping. There was classical music playing on a low volume, and the only hint that the president was awake was his soft humming along with the tune. He stopped abruptly as he heard the sound of the door, and immediately smiled at the entering visitor.

“Aleis, my dear, what a pleasure to see you!”

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

intern-aleis:

If she allowed herself to think about it, the situation was pretty surreal. Here she was, driving around in the company president’s car, bloody and exhausted, while said president’s severed hand sat in his lap in the passenger seat, all set to the tune of some bubblegum pop song. It was ridiculous and more than a little frightening how upbeat he could be at all times. Lacking a hand and lot of blood, Mr. Glee still sang along with the radio. Aleis just tried to focus on driving and ignore all but the road.

For the most part, she drove unimpeded. The other drivers stayed out of the way and, while Aleis held her breath and thought prayers to a smiling god each time she blew through a red light, there wasn’t a single incident.

Parking just outside the main entrance of the clinic, Aleis quickly turned off the ignition and hopped out to get the door for Mr. Glee.

By the time they arrived at the clinic, it had become obvious that something was wrong with the man. His face had become pale, a thin layer of cold sweat coated his face, and even his smile was close to fading completely. Yet, however, he managed to mutter some words of praise and gratitude to her, before she left the vehicle. It took him a moment to unbuckle, and get out as well, still holding the wrapped up hand. This time, unlike before, he did need to steady himself on Aleis a little - more like seeking contact for the sake of his balance - while slowly walking up the ramp to the entrance.

[intern-aleis]

Aleis walked around to the other side of the car, one hand hovering above it’s reflective surface. She’d be loathe to smudge or mark it up in any way, but falling was also not an option. In the mirrored hood of the car, her reflection distorted, following the curves and angles of the vehicle and bending it its rule over hers. Aleis just sighed. She looked an absolute mess, blood matting her hair and staining her hands and dress. There was no time to dwell though, and she averted her eyes in favor of getting in the driver’s seat.

The car was obviously loved and well cared for, not to mention very, very expensive. Aleis winced as she sat, worried she’d mar the interior. Mr. Glee spoke up, however, before she could think on the matter too much.

“I’m not certain about what the faster route would be. So if you have a GPS system, I’ll definitely want to use it.”

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

Yes, this car was definitely cared for thoroughly, but in this very moment, the president honestly did not care if the beige leather seats got ruined. In the end, unlike his hand, the interior was not irreplaceable.

He waited until the young woman had adjusted the seat and mirrors to her height, before starting to explain the system to her. It looked a little complicated at first, but once used, it was thinkably easy to understand.

“It should not take much longer than ten minutes to get there,” he added, after she had typed in the address, “Do not worry about traffic too much, little love, you will be allowed to cross red lights if necessary.” The president quickly turned on the radio, before leaning back in his seat. The song sounding from the speakers was upbeat, cheerful, just the way most of the music played on Desert Bluffs’ radio station was, and to keep himself conscious, the man sang along. It was no secret that his singing voice was pleasant, to say the least, but the circumstances made the situation utterly unsettling.

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

intern-aleis:

The desert sun shone on them at last, making Aleis realize just how much of her tension had been brought on by virtue of the Reeducation wing. Not all of it, not by a long shot. But now she could focus on handling what was left.

His request would’ve had her stumbling yet again if they hadn’t stopped. Somehow she hadn’t thought of that. It made sense, though. He certainly wasn’t carrying a purse for his keys.

“Of course. Pardon my reach.” Aleis had to stand quite close to him to maneuver her hand into his pocket without jostling his arm, the pounding behind her eyes making it markedly more difficult. What felt like a small eternity to the slightly embarrassed and blushing intern had really only been 10 seconds tops.  Keys in hand, Aleis gave Mr. Glee a small smile. “Now all we need is your car.”

The president stood still while she was searching for his keys, which at least should not take too long, since his bundle of keys was rather big, and there was nothing else in that pocket. He gave her another smile as she had pulled them out, even without knocking against his injured arm.

“Very good,” he spoke to her, before heading towards his car. With no wall to steady himself on, however, even his steps were rather insecure now, but fortunately, the vehicle was parked in the spot closest to the entrance.

Julius Glee’s car was unmistakable. The label on the front told that it was a Bugatti, a type which alone would have been rather expensive, but this one had also been customized. Tinted windows that prevented looking inside, and a surface that was polished blank, and looked as if it had been made completely of golden mirrors, reflecting whatever came near, including the sunlight shining down on it.

Arriving there, the president waited for the intern to unlock the vehicle, and open the door for him, since, at this point, he still did not even have his remaining hand free. From that point on, however, he was able to proceed alone. He slipped in on the passenger’s side, and set the bundle he was carrying down in his lap, before pulling the door closed, and buckling up.

Now that he had made the way, the exhaust settled in. He heaved a weak sigh, and his eyes slipped closed for a moment, before he addressed Aleis once again.

“Do you need help with the route guidance, dear?”

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

intern-aleis:

There was no reason he should be physically capable of carrying on like he was at this point. If nothing else, she’d expected to have to help with balance issues from the sheer amount of blood lost coupled with his head wound. She was actually the one stumbling here and there, instead, though of course she did her best to avoid drawing attention to it. Balance or no balance, she was still the healthier of the two.

“125 Bright Meadow. Gotcha,” she said, ever careful to keep an eye on the man beside her. If she had her phone, she could toss the address into the GPS mapping program. Or better yet, dial the Medical Department and get help all the sooner. “Still hanging in there, sir?”

He nodded, and even managed to turn around to her for a smile.

“Yes, dear, I should be fine until we arrive. We will be taking my car, and you will see, that will grant you certain privileges.”

Finally leaving the building after a few more minutes, the president took a deep breath, relieved to smell fresh air again. Once more, he turned his head to talk to the young woman by his side, hoping his request would not make her too uncomfortable.

“I fear you will have to reach into my pocket and get the keys out. They are on the right side.”

[lady-wilwarin-deactivated202010]

Mads by Neffi Kristensen film (x)

[just--space]

A prominence eruption captured on 3 May 2013. Combines three images from NASAs Solar Dynamics Observatory. Goddard. [1646x1200]

js

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

intern-aleis:

Aleis had to hide a small frown. She really did think he needed emergency care but arguing would waste more time than they really had. They needed to get moving. Mr. Glee was a strong man, but there isn’t too much an anyone can do to fight the effects of blood loss and, more than likely, shock settling in.

“I can,” she confirmed. “What’s the address? I know I’ve heard of his clinic, but I need the street and building number in order to get you there as quickly as possible.” They walked down through empty halls, Aleis all but hovering over him the entire time. She wanted to be near if he needed someone to steady himself against.

Although his legs were shaking, and he constantly kept his left hand on the walls to steady himself, he walked on surprisingly well. Of course normally, Aleis would have been right, and most other people would not have been able to keep going like this without falling into a shock, but the man seemed to possess greater strength of some sort. It was not visible, since it had not seeped through the fabric of his jacket, but if one took the makeshift bandage off, his blood would, once again, have the same dark hues in it as what had run down from his temple, as if somebody had drizzled just a few drops of black paint into it.

This time, the president did not look at the intern, as he answered her question, but kept his eyes on the valves, guiding the way out of the subterranean labyrinth.

“125 Bright Meadow Drive, on the east side of the Central Bridge, it is the Desert Bluffs Midtown Clinic.”

[intern-aleis]

The cleaver slammed into the table a beat too early, forcing a gasp from her, in time with his own gasp of pain. “Sir?” she questioned with worry coloring her voice, though she neither expected nor received any response beyond what had already been asked of her. To hear the president in such pain and distress was almost heartbreakingly wrong. If it weren’t for the direct order, her eyes wouldn’t have remained shut as they were, keeping her blinded.

Aleis’s thoughts raced as she waited, sitting in the dark. There had been absolutely no reason for Mr. Glee to have chosen to harm himself rather than her. He’d been kind and approachable and willing to help, yes, but this wasn’t just a moment or two of his time he had given up.

She started pulling herself upright as he approached, eyes closed compliantly until he said otherwise in his ever-calm voice. Her eyes fluttered open to see keys on the tabletop and the president standing not far away. She studiously ignored the now bloodstained vest and the severed hand it was obviously being used to obscure. She ignored the blood in the air, on the table, in her hair. Quickly releasing herself, Aleis immediately zeroed in on what blood  dripped steadily from the arm Mr. Glee cradled against himself.

“We have to stop the bloodflow. You’re bleeding to heavily for your jacket to help overly much, and I fear we won’t find assistance in time if it continues much longer.” She pulled herself upright, swaying slightly under the combined effects of a momentous head rush and the head would she’d sustained. Her hands heart beat like it would give out at any time, but her hands were still and her eyes met his own. “Do I have your permission to administer emergency first air, sir?” she requested formally.

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

The pain was sickening, and fighting back that force inside him that nobody with a clear mind should witness was exhausting, but the president was absolutely unwilling to let the intern notice any of those sentiments. As usual, he kept smiling, albeit not as brightly as usual now, when he turned back to the table, wrapped the hand up in the waistcoat, and picked the bundle up.

“Can you drive a car, Aleis?”, he asked a moment later, making it sound as if he was ignoring her request at first, “There is not much we can do down here. The compression is as tight as possible, I will not lose much blood, you have to take me to Lloyd Falkner. Do you know where his clinic is?”

Although he tried his best not to show any sign of weakness, his face was pale, a layer of cold sweat on his forehead and temples, and his legs were shaking, as he unlocked and opened the door they had been trapped behind for the past hours.

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

intern-aleis:

She nodded dutifully at each instruction, more or less swept along by his sheer force of will. It made sense that she’d still be required to carry her own weight in the escape. “I will… try, sir.”

His hand rested on her for only a moment as their eyes met, but the absolute reassurance and peace he radiated remained even after he stood. She couldn’t not trust him, even now.

Her eyes slipped shut, almost without thought, and Aleis tried to position herself so as to allow the cleanest cut possible. He was right, of course; she really didn’t want to see it happen. Almost as much as she didn’t want it to happen at all.

Waving his hand in front of her face, the president made sure that Aleis’ eyes were closed, before taking a deep breath, and beginning to count, his voice still incredibly calm in light of the situation.

“Five. Four. Three. Two...”

Crack!

The sound of the blade hitting the tabletop came too soon, intentionally misplaced by the president, so the intern would not withdraw her hand and pull at the restraints in the last second.

An agonized moan, and the sound of chains rattling filled the air, as the metal cuff slid off the man’s wrist. “Keep your eyes closed!”, he gasped an order at her, while hastily taking off his suit jacket and waistcoat, still not wanting the young woman to look at what had just happened. He threw the vest onto the table to cover the severed hand, and slipped back into the left sleeve of the jacket, to wrap his right arm up in some of the remaining fabric, and use the empty sleeve as a makeshift aid to cut off the blood flow as good as possible.

The next thing the intern would be able to hear were quick footsteps, as the president moved across the room to pick up the keys that would open Aleis’ handcuff. His voice had calmed down again almost completely, as he muttered to her: “You may open your eyes,” and placed the keys onto the table for her to free herself from the restraints.

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

intern-aleis:

She breathed in sharply, panic brightening her eyes. StrexCorp wasn’t going to keep a handicapped intern on, especially not in the Public Relations Department. Especially not in a place where her flaw would cast poorly on the company’s image. She’d be terminated.

Her mouth hung open. Aleis wanted to cry, to blurt out the fact that her career, her life, would be destroyed, but her mouth refused to form the necessary words. Perhaps that was for the better. Words would get her nowhere, and there was really no other choice.

Eyes widened by near hysteria, Aleis stared directly into Mr. Glee’s infuriatingly serene countenance and expressed her understanding with a single jerk of her head.

Apparently, the president did not plan to lose any more time after his explanation.

“Please try not to panic, dear. After I will have done this, remember that you will have to help getting me out of here. I need you to stay calm, can you do that for me?”

Gently, he laid his right hand onto her shoulder, trying to make eye contact for a moment, before slowly getting up once more, to access the table again.

“Close your eyes, please,” he demanded in a gentle voice, “you should not have to watch this happening. I will count down from five.”

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

intern-aleis:

Every muscle in her body tensed when the cleaver was brought out, the first ringing impact of blade on chain forcing a small nervous jolt from her. She forced her arm to still, not liking the idea of the knife so close to her flesh, but liking even less the possibility of injury if she didn’t stay in place.

Aleis blew out a tremulous breath, fiddling with the cuff encircling her wrist. It pressed into her arm, too snug to wriggle out of, even with a dislocated thumb. At the President’s words though, she stilled. In a small voice, she inquired, “What’s your i-idea?”

The president’s voice suddenly became very calm. Turning the cleaver in his hand, and watching the light reflecting from its surface, he sounded as if there had never been a reason to be afraid, and there even was a small smile on his lips again, as he turned back towards the intern, and explained:

“This cleaver apparently cannot break metal, but I know for sure that it is able to cut through bones.”

[mendelsohnben]

[madsmikkelsennews]

[intern-aleis]

Something sounded wrong about the plan to break their chains using a cleaver, but she was too lightheaded at this point to put a finger on why, exactly, that might be. She dropped to her knees obediently, bracing against the table to control the descent. Scrubbing at her face, Aleis managed only to smear her eyeliner. The restraints, knives, and potent smell of blood in the air brought to mind impressions and dreams she’d rather not remember.

Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Like this?” With her body tight up against the pipe and her arm outstretched, there wasn’t more length she could give him.

[strexcorpsupervision-blog]

If he was completely honest, he was not entirely sure that this would work either, but at this point, it was the only option he saw. Of course, however, he would not tell that to the intern. The president had to keep up a certain level of optimism. Stretching out as far as he could, he reached the box with one foot, and managed to pull it closer towards the two of them, so he could finally take the cleaver out, and give it an examining look first. It seemed sharp, which gave him hope.

“Do not move,” he told her, before lifting up the tool, and slamming it down onto the chains with all his force. The effort, however, was in vain. Even after a few more tries, the metal did not seem to give in at all, and in the end, the president leaned back against the pipe with a sigh, head laid back, and eyes closed, remaining there for a minute.

“... I have another idea.”