Waking up at Velvet Rouge was the same as every morning. The smell of sweat and alcohol pervaded the air and the whispering beat of some Lo-Fi music kept the place in a state of calm in stark contrast to the nights at the very same place. Such sensations, however, were dampened by the fact that a whole ass floor separated Marshall from the rest of the club. The 30 something lay in a king-sized be covered in mountains of fleece and micro-knit sheets, looking like a teenager that had gotten drunk for the first time and fell asleep in someone’s laundry room.

An alarm was going off right next to Marshall, his face inches from the mechanical rooster call that seemed ridiculously cheesy given his location. He was awake, staring at the alarm clock with a sort of dejected resignation to the start of the day. Marshall was bored of his normal routine, and remembered today was the day everything was going to be different, but he couldn’t really bring himself to the idea that Apex would [i]actually[/i] be that much more exciting than the rest of life. To Marshal there were only two speeds to existence: ceaseless boredom and passing interest.

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Hours later, Marshall found himself with a group of Apex new hires. There weren’t many of them, three in his group to be exact. Marshall paid close attention to everyone he encountered, keeping stock of their personalities and their perceived capacity to be [i]interesting[/i]. Surprisingly enough, the other two had this air about them that felt… familiar. Maybe Apex was fond of hiring exhausted loner types, who knew? If it come to the point that he’d have to stand out to get noticed, he wasn’t for sure he could really compete. That being said… He wasn’t for sure any of the three could really compete with each other.

Neither had said much of a word as they were grouped together, and the silence persisted even as Allister gave them passing bits of information and lead them to a room in which they’d meet a rather interesting Lorette. It was strange, odds are at least one person tends to be talkative in any new group, and none of them seemed to be that person. Something about that comforted him, that meant he wouldn’t have to listen to inane prattle about his co-workers outside lives or receive unwarranted curiosities towards his own dating life. 

In contrast to the silence of his peers, Lorette began speaking in a manner that was both filled with gravitas and a performative quality. She was honestly the first thing in Apex that really drew his attention and interest. The rest had all been your average corporate grandeur and secrecy. To some it may not be average, but when you grow up a rather well-to-do child in a family with dubious business ventures? It was average. 

Lorette’s remarks about Marshall’s personal life was met with a passive smirk and a singular, quiet grunting noise that was Marshall’s way of indicating something was amusing. Rock bottom? Marshall didn’t believe in rock bottom, nor did he believe in reaching one’s peak. Marshall had simply chosen the most interesting path to be on, whatever made him not feel like a misguided ghost floating in the winds. She was right on one point though, he wasn’t content with where he was. The people of the club and the endless parade of musical numbers and circus acts eventually lost their interest. After a while you’ve seen everyone’s talents before. Apex in contrast was a mystery, and mysteries are interesting.

It was Lorette’s comment on the discovery of their own weakness that finally wrested Marshall from his psychological slumber. His weakness in such manners were already something known to him, the idea that something was going to actually [i]expose[/i] those weaknesses left him with a gut feeling that the statement wasn’t like those countless university professors made to scare students into thinking that only the elite passed their classes. (Which by the way was a lie, it wasn’t the elite that prevailed, it was those with the tenacity to see it through. Even a dumbass can succeed if they never look away from failure’s taunting gaze.) Marshall welcomed any assault on his existence if it could be used as a tool to pique his curiosity into what the other side of the literal and metaphorical wall in front of him.

The assault that met Marshall in that room with his new coworkers was not the kind that he had remotely expected. [i]Zoological fantastica[/i] was the phrase that came to mind when the toad seemingly broke the laws of physics just to eat a blade. Creatures that shouldn’t exist, yet do? Marshall raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and tilted his head at an angle to get some more visual information on what he just witnessed. There was no glimmer of illusion here, it was true. He turned his head to look at the other two newbies with him, both having been jolted, both having spoken. Marshall tried to hide a smirk.

He succeeded in being the quiet one.