[h2]Marcus Bellamy[/h2]
[hr]
The office seemed quieter than usual as Marcus sat back in the old leather upholstered desk chair, finishing off the last of his coffee. Of course ‘quiet’ wasn't necessarily a bad, but still not common at this time of the morning. In typical fashion, there would be several citizens of Fireflies standing outside the front double doors waiting for Mayor Bellamy to show up just so they could be the first to bring up whatever matters and issues were on their agenda at the time. Most were complaints that could be easily rectified same day, while others would take days or weeks. But as most things within the settlement, routines changed since the accident. Sure, the requests still come in, but they are generally all written and delivered via couriers, with the people who originally wrote the requests keeping clear of the Mayor's office. It was simply...unexplained behaviour.

Marcus leaned forward, the chair’s frame  creaking as he did, and placed the empty cup down as he opened up the gray, unmarked folder which held mostly complaints, many of which pertained to the condition of the dam, the drainage systems, and general maintenance of the sewage. The heavy rains experienced from months ago took a toll on the network of aqueducts throughout both communities, causing waste to mix with otherwise clean water. Engineers and maintenance personnel continued to work on the issue, reconstructing damaged sections of the settlement, but resources were becoming more scarce and scavenging for the raw material was dangerous.

“And what is Marcus Bellamy, the [i]fearless[/i] mayor of Fireflies, going to do about it today?” As if reading his thoughts, the loud, obnoxious voice of Gregory echoed from down the hall, even before he'd made it through the office door. “Still rummaging through that pile of shit?” The fat man continued in between bites of what looked to be some kind of cheese pastry. “You know a lot of these people dislike you because of your indecisiveness to take action against Waterleaf, but uh-” He finished the last bite of his food, chasing it down with a bottle of whiskey, and a low grumbling belch. “Don’t take my word for it, pal.”

Gregory Dickerson, one the few friends Marcus had grown up with and managed to somehow stay friends with, even though the man’s non-stop mouth would write checks his ass couldn’t cash. Greg was one of kids who played pranks on just about anyone he thought “worthy” of a laugh at his expense, which was just about everyone in the settlement. He rarely had a filter on anything he said, and didn’t care much about public opinion. Needless to say, not many people liked him, but Marcus had simply grown to tolerate the now robust mid-thirties, greasy-haired, freckled ginger who had proven his worth as a mechanic and general handyman more times than could be counted.

Unfortunately though, the fact the he was an asshole was just part of the full package. 

“Good morning Greg.” Marcus said in a calm tone of voice without looking up from his work. “I see you haven’t stopped pointing out the obvious, and yet another step closer to complete ignorance.”

The other made a mocking gasp as though the insult truly wounded him. “And here I thought we were friends?” He shook his head, again, mockingly. “I shall need to file a complaint with the mayoral office right away!” His motioned his finger upward to drive the silly statement along. 

“Why are you here, Greg?” Marcus sighed as he eventually looked up at the man standing a few feet from his desk, dressed in his usual stained denim overalls, white t-shirt, and toolbelt slung across his overly bulbous chest. “Don’t you have actual work to do today?” 

“Look my man, I know you would rather I keep you company, but yes, of course I have work to do.” He grabbed the handkerchief from his back pocket and blew his nose, before replacing it into the pocket.  “I’m important.” He allowed a smirk before his attention turned toward the side window, which looked out onto the main street. “Well, well, look who’s on her way to make a few house calls today.” The fat man walked up closer to the window for a better look at settlement’s doctor known as Michelle, who was making her way along the side road across the street. Greg made a few low whistling sounds just before the woman turned down another road.

“Damn she is a fine piece of-”

“Greg!” Marcus exclaimed, causing the other to almost jump out of his sweaty socks. “Enough already.”

“Alright, alright.” The man shook his head. “I was only trying to lighten the tension floating around in this room. I know you’ve been under tremendous pressure, buddy.” 

“Yeah well.” Marcus let out a long breath of air. “It’s certainly been a challenge.”

“Well hey that’s great, but uh-” Gregory walked over and sat in one of the chairs facing the desk, and leaned forward. “So, what’s going on with Michelle these days? You guys talking to one another? I mean, shit, you two were inseparable when we were kids, and I was pretty sure you guys would’ve gotten married.”

Marcus stared out the window at nothing in particular for a moment. “Yeah well, our lives just got [i]complicated[/i] and paths went in a different direction. And, aside from her professional life -as well as being inundated with work due to this illness going around- I don’t know much about her personal life these days.” He turned his attention back to the stacked files on his desk. “But, that was the past, and this is now, and I have a lot of work to do, so I’ll see you later Greg.”

“Um, yeah sure Marc, whatever you say.” The big man stood to his feet, and turned to head for the door. “Oh, and say hi to Mila for me. Hopefully she’s doing better.” 

“Will do, bud.”