Wilford Warfstache (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cottoncandypink) wrote2017-06-11 12:45 pm
cottoncandypink) wrote2017-06-11 12:45 pm
We’re gonna have a mutiny here before too long
Wilford had no idea that he’d done anything wrong. How could he? It’s not like he had any control over whether or not the door showed up for him. The door disappeared for six weeks, and then came back exactly when he needed it, so Wilford didn’t think anything about it. He was more focused on other things. Things like other people resetting and fucking up his own plans. So far, everything seemed right, but that was the problem with resets. It always seemed right, because you had no frame of reference for the way it should have been. When someone else reset, or opened up a new save, they were the only ones to know. To everyone else, it was just another day. You might notice something was wrong if you paid enough attention. Those little bouts of precognition that could just be coincidence, or could be because they’d done this all before. Persistent déjà vu would be another clue, but Wilford didn’t have any of that to go off of, because the guy he was worried about wasn’t anywhere near him. He’d fucked off to go do whatever it was he did when he wasn’t sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. And Wilford had to let him. He had to let everything continue as normal, or else he risked changing too many things and ruining everything.
So he waited. He passed the time around the station, watching editors put together his segment where he and Billy had brought an end to Slenderman’s reign of terror. His name was out there now, giving him a little more leverage around the station. Not much, and not enough, but more than none, which is where he’d been before. Even if Nichola didn’t get any of the segment credit, he made sure people around the building knew she’d done half the work. She didn’t want to be in front of the camera, which is why she didn’t go with them. Or at least, that’s the story he told people. There was even some truth to it, though it wasn’t the reason Wilford didn’t even consult her before going. He didn’t want anyone in their way, plain and simple. The sudden appearance of a third party was bad enough. More people would have just gotten someone killed. But Nichola was smart enough to go along with it. She insisted it was her idea to stay close, and to do other interviews that Wilford was too abrasive to navigate successfully. As long as it got her name out there, it was good for her career.
She disagreed of course, but kept it to herself, save occasional glares in Wilford’s direction when she thought nobody was looking.
The segment ran the following evening, while the cuts on Wilford’s face were still fresh. He was a hero. The cops had done nothing, but he’d gone with a gut feeling and sorted the whole thing out. Everyone was breathing a little bit easier now. But he was just doing his job; reporting the news and informing the masses. At least, until he knew nobody was looking.
“I need a raise,” he said, letting himself into his boss’ office.
Shit for Brains didn’t even look up. “You haven’t been here long enough.”
Wilford dropped down into the seat in front of the desk and leaned back casually. He wasn’t here to negotiate. He was here to demand.
“The CBN affiliate's offering me twice what I’m making now.”
Shit for Brains did look up. “Is that supposed to scare me? Nichola did all your research for you. It’s practically her story.”
Wilford looked positively shocked. “She hasn’t told you yet?” he asked. “They offered her the same. I’m trying to convince her to stay, but I don’t really have many strong arguing points right now. I thought you’d probably want to give me a few.”
He felt positively giddy watching the idiot run all this through his mind, with the slow, dawning realisation that he was about to lose the biggest story of the year if he didn’t handle this right.
“This is blackmail,” he said.
“No, this is my team looking for a station who gives a damn,” Wilford pointed out. “We can take the job anyway, if that’s what you want.”
“Your team?”
“Adler too. He almost got himself killed, and have you seen his camera work? Being a fucking giant gives him some great angles. CBN would love to have him.”
“Why aren’t they in here with you?” He thought he had Wilford cornered here. He thought he was winning.
“Because I think Dennis is already packing up his things, and I told you, Nichola doesn’t want to stay anyway. But you’re closer, and traffic in this city is a nightmare. I don’t want to add another twenty minutes to my commute.” Wilford thought about this for a moment. “Actually, I think they are closer for Nichola, though. That might be why she wants to go.”
There were few things Wilford enjoyed more than seeing some smug asshole slowly realise that he’d lost, but he managed to keep all that joy clamped down while he watched Shit for Brains deliberate over the situation. When he said nothing, Wilford shrugged and got up.
“I’ve got a phone call to make, I guess.”
“No, wait.” He sighed angrily and shook his head. “I’ll match it. Whatever they’re paying you.”
Wilford considered this, and cringed dramatically.
“Two and a half.”
Wilford nodded, mulling this offer over for a few moments. “I’ll see what they say.”
He let himself out, trying to hold back on a grin that threatened to undermine the entire thing. He had to get away from the office before he gave himself away. He found Billy and Nichola waiting in her little section of the newsroom, putting on a show of packing up her desk.
“What did he say?” she asked as soon as she spotted Wilford.
“I got him up to two and a half. He knows this story isn’t over, and our names are out there, but I didn’t want to push it.” He probably could have gone for three, but it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.
“I can live with two and a half,” Billy said.
Nichola nodded. “So what now?”
Wilford took a deep breath and looked around the newsroom. Everyone was trying to pretend that they weren’t watching whatever was going on between the three of them, so they had to make a show of being serious.
“We go to lunch, and take an obscenely long time to come back, I think,” he said. “Look like you’re not convinced.”
Billy stood up and shook his head. “No,” he said as he turned to walk away. Moments later, Nichola got up to follow him, leaving Wilford standing there alone. He watched them leave for a few moments, before rushing to follow after them, frantically trying to convince them to wait. When they didn’t stop, he sighed and followed them out of the building. Billy’s care was actually in something of a working order, so the three of them got inside, with Wilford taking the back. The waited until they were out on the street before they dropped their act and started laughing.
“What the hell did you say to him?” Nichola asked, turning around in her seat to face Wilford. “Two and a half? How did you do that?”
“Stupid fucker accused me of blackmail. I just reminded him that people are allowed to quit their jobs,” Wilford said.
The other two laughed like they still couldn’t believe it.
“If you keep this up, you’ll own the network in fifteen years,” Billy said.
Wilford suppressed a shudder. Owning a network was the last thing he wanted. So much work involved. “I’ll settle for my own show,” he said.
Billy took them to some little diner nearby. They took a table in the back and took their time getting through lunch, ordering multiple refills on coffee, and several items from the dessert menu. Wilford tried to order cheaply, because he hadn’t got his raise yet, and only had $20 in his wallet. Even ordering carefully, by the time they finally asked for the check, he couldn’t help but cringe at the sight of it. He threw his twenty down, and was surprised when Billy tossed it back at him.
“Pay day’s not for another week,” he pointed out.
Wilford didn’t miss the awkward glance Nichola threw toward Billy, though he pretended to as he stuffed the cash back into his wallet. She’s seen the state of his kitchen several times now, but apparently hadn’t realised that Billy had started paying part of his grocery bill in recent weeks.
“Yeah,” he said. He could make $20 last the week. He’d got by for longer on less.
He wouldn’t have to after this, though. Even without the money he had stashed away in the bar, which had already proved unreliable with the door disappearing for six weeks. He could keep that around for something else now.
Nichola paid for her share and the three of them got up to leave their mess for some under-paid server to clean up. They all piled back into Billy’s car, taking a long, leisurely route back to the station. By the time they got back to the garage, their game-faces were back on, with Nichola and Billy giving off every impression of having come back very grudgingly. Wilford took them back to their boss’ office, barging in on him again without so much of a knock.
“I want a better office,” Nichola said simply. “I can’t get my job done if I’m sharing a cube with a bunch of noisy scriptwriters.”
“Yeah, me too, actually,” Wilford said.
Shit for Brains sighed and looked at Billy. “What about you?” he asked tiredly.
Billy shrugged. “What do I need an office for? I work in a van.”
Wilford almost laughed. He wanted to, but it wouldn’t do them any good.
“I can’t give you both an office,” their boss said. “I don’t have that kind of room.”
Wilford and Nichola looked at one another for a long moment, before they both shrugged. “I think I could live with that,” Nichola said.
“Yeah. We’d be working together anyway, so sure,” Wilford agreed.
Goodbye for now, Kevin. See you again in a few months.
Shit for Brains seemed like he wanted to say about eight different things at once, the way he kept opening and closing his mouth like a stunned fish. “Monday,” he said finally. “I’ll have one of the rooms cleaned out for you by then.”
Wilford looked between Billy and Nichola, daring to seem hopeful, and a little pleased.
“All right,” Nichola agreed finally. “What do you think, Den?”
Billy nodded. “Yeah, all right. But the raise is effective starting today, right?”
Their boss shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, fine. I’ll put the paperwork through.”
He waved them out of his office, clearly regretting this already. They left without another word, and returned to Nichola’s desk. Now, everyone wasn’t even trying to hide their direct looks toward them as they sat down and hid behind the partition wall, Billy and Wilford taking the empty seats of a couple of writers who weren’t doing their job.
“I think they smell blood in the water,” Billy said, trying not to laugh too loudly. “We’re gonna have a mutiny here before too long.”
Wilford waved it off. It wasn’t going to happen for a few years, even at the rate things were going. “That’s their problem,” he said. “We’ve got one of our own now.”
Nichola looked at him impatiently. “Do tell.”
He shrugged, and looked out over the newsroom. “We have to find the next big thing before he decides to kick our asses to the curb.”
So he waited. He passed the time around the station, watching editors put together his segment where he and Billy had brought an end to Slenderman’s reign of terror. His name was out there now, giving him a little more leverage around the station. Not much, and not enough, but more than none, which is where he’d been before. Even if Nichola didn’t get any of the segment credit, he made sure people around the building knew she’d done half the work. She didn’t want to be in front of the camera, which is why she didn’t go with them. Or at least, that’s the story he told people. There was even some truth to it, though it wasn’t the reason Wilford didn’t even consult her before going. He didn’t want anyone in their way, plain and simple. The sudden appearance of a third party was bad enough. More people would have just gotten someone killed. But Nichola was smart enough to go along with it. She insisted it was her idea to stay close, and to do other interviews that Wilford was too abrasive to navigate successfully. As long as it got her name out there, it was good for her career.
She disagreed of course, but kept it to herself, save occasional glares in Wilford’s direction when she thought nobody was looking.
The segment ran the following evening, while the cuts on Wilford’s face were still fresh. He was a hero. The cops had done nothing, but he’d gone with a gut feeling and sorted the whole thing out. Everyone was breathing a little bit easier now. But he was just doing his job; reporting the news and informing the masses. At least, until he knew nobody was looking.
“I need a raise,” he said, letting himself into his boss’ office.
Shit for Brains didn’t even look up. “You haven’t been here long enough.”
Wilford dropped down into the seat in front of the desk and leaned back casually. He wasn’t here to negotiate. He was here to demand.
“The CBN affiliate's offering me twice what I’m making now.”
Shit for Brains did look up. “Is that supposed to scare me? Nichola did all your research for you. It’s practically her story.”
Wilford looked positively shocked. “She hasn’t told you yet?” he asked. “They offered her the same. I’m trying to convince her to stay, but I don’t really have many strong arguing points right now. I thought you’d probably want to give me a few.”
He felt positively giddy watching the idiot run all this through his mind, with the slow, dawning realisation that he was about to lose the biggest story of the year if he didn’t handle this right.
“This is blackmail,” he said.
“No, this is my team looking for a station who gives a damn,” Wilford pointed out. “We can take the job anyway, if that’s what you want.”
“Your team?”
“Adler too. He almost got himself killed, and have you seen his camera work? Being a fucking giant gives him some great angles. CBN would love to have him.”
“Why aren’t they in here with you?” He thought he had Wilford cornered here. He thought he was winning.
“Because I think Dennis is already packing up his things, and I told you, Nichola doesn’t want to stay anyway. But you’re closer, and traffic in this city is a nightmare. I don’t want to add another twenty minutes to my commute.” Wilford thought about this for a moment. “Actually, I think they are closer for Nichola, though. That might be why she wants to go.”
There were few things Wilford enjoyed more than seeing some smug asshole slowly realise that he’d lost, but he managed to keep all that joy clamped down while he watched Shit for Brains deliberate over the situation. When he said nothing, Wilford shrugged and got up.
“I’ve got a phone call to make, I guess.”
“No, wait.” He sighed angrily and shook his head. “I’ll match it. Whatever they’re paying you.”
Wilford considered this, and cringed dramatically.
“Two and a half.”
Wilford nodded, mulling this offer over for a few moments. “I’ll see what they say.”
He let himself out, trying to hold back on a grin that threatened to undermine the entire thing. He had to get away from the office before he gave himself away. He found Billy and Nichola waiting in her little section of the newsroom, putting on a show of packing up her desk.
“What did he say?” she asked as soon as she spotted Wilford.
“I got him up to two and a half. He knows this story isn’t over, and our names are out there, but I didn’t want to push it.” He probably could have gone for three, but it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.
“I can live with two and a half,” Billy said.
Nichola nodded. “So what now?”
Wilford took a deep breath and looked around the newsroom. Everyone was trying to pretend that they weren’t watching whatever was going on between the three of them, so they had to make a show of being serious.
“We go to lunch, and take an obscenely long time to come back, I think,” he said. “Look like you’re not convinced.”
Billy stood up and shook his head. “No,” he said as he turned to walk away. Moments later, Nichola got up to follow him, leaving Wilford standing there alone. He watched them leave for a few moments, before rushing to follow after them, frantically trying to convince them to wait. When they didn’t stop, he sighed and followed them out of the building. Billy’s care was actually in something of a working order, so the three of them got inside, with Wilford taking the back. The waited until they were out on the street before they dropped their act and started laughing.
“What the hell did you say to him?” Nichola asked, turning around in her seat to face Wilford. “Two and a half? How did you do that?”
“Stupid fucker accused me of blackmail. I just reminded him that people are allowed to quit their jobs,” Wilford said.
The other two laughed like they still couldn’t believe it.
“If you keep this up, you’ll own the network in fifteen years,” Billy said.
Wilford suppressed a shudder. Owning a network was the last thing he wanted. So much work involved. “I’ll settle for my own show,” he said.
Billy took them to some little diner nearby. They took a table in the back and took their time getting through lunch, ordering multiple refills on coffee, and several items from the dessert menu. Wilford tried to order cheaply, because he hadn’t got his raise yet, and only had $20 in his wallet. Even ordering carefully, by the time they finally asked for the check, he couldn’t help but cringe at the sight of it. He threw his twenty down, and was surprised when Billy tossed it back at him.
“Pay day’s not for another week,” he pointed out.
Wilford didn’t miss the awkward glance Nichola threw toward Billy, though he pretended to as he stuffed the cash back into his wallet. She’s seen the state of his kitchen several times now, but apparently hadn’t realised that Billy had started paying part of his grocery bill in recent weeks.
“Yeah,” he said. He could make $20 last the week. He’d got by for longer on less.
He wouldn’t have to after this, though. Even without the money he had stashed away in the bar, which had already proved unreliable with the door disappearing for six weeks. He could keep that around for something else now.
Nichola paid for her share and the three of them got up to leave their mess for some under-paid server to clean up. They all piled back into Billy’s car, taking a long, leisurely route back to the station. By the time they got back to the garage, their game-faces were back on, with Nichola and Billy giving off every impression of having come back very grudgingly. Wilford took them back to their boss’ office, barging in on him again without so much of a knock.
“I want a better office,” Nichola said simply. “I can’t get my job done if I’m sharing a cube with a bunch of noisy scriptwriters.”
“Yeah, me too, actually,” Wilford said.
Shit for Brains sighed and looked at Billy. “What about you?” he asked tiredly.
Billy shrugged. “What do I need an office for? I work in a van.”
Wilford almost laughed. He wanted to, but it wouldn’t do them any good.
“I can’t give you both an office,” their boss said. “I don’t have that kind of room.”
Wilford and Nichola looked at one another for a long moment, before they both shrugged. “I think I could live with that,” Nichola said.
“Yeah. We’d be working together anyway, so sure,” Wilford agreed.
Goodbye for now, Kevin. See you again in a few months.
Shit for Brains seemed like he wanted to say about eight different things at once, the way he kept opening and closing his mouth like a stunned fish. “Monday,” he said finally. “I’ll have one of the rooms cleaned out for you by then.”
Wilford looked between Billy and Nichola, daring to seem hopeful, and a little pleased.
“All right,” Nichola agreed finally. “What do you think, Den?”
Billy nodded. “Yeah, all right. But the raise is effective starting today, right?”
Their boss shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, fine. I’ll put the paperwork through.”
He waved them out of his office, clearly regretting this already. They left without another word, and returned to Nichola’s desk. Now, everyone wasn’t even trying to hide their direct looks toward them as they sat down and hid behind the partition wall, Billy and Wilford taking the empty seats of a couple of writers who weren’t doing their job.
“I think they smell blood in the water,” Billy said, trying not to laugh too loudly. “We’re gonna have a mutiny here before too long.”
Wilford waved it off. It wasn’t going to happen for a few years, even at the rate things were going. “That’s their problem,” he said. “We’ve got one of our own now.”
Nichola looked at him impatiently. “Do tell.”
He shrugged, and looked out over the newsroom. “We have to find the next big thing before he decides to kick our asses to the curb.”