I'm too cool for...[Open]

[Marco Fino Giraldo]

Warning: FAR too much sugar with the creation of this post. xD
Dx Horrible post, though, I think... details are done poorly!! Oh, the "Nannie-nan" was an act Marco pulled - he still ONLY thinks she's his mother. XD Also, relax, he's secretly wearing shorts under that dress. He's not giving up that easy, now. XD

---

"...this is a pointless guester..."

"Mar-Mar! You shouldn't be in such a rush to judge~!"

An aggravated sigh. Words were ushered out behind gritted teeth. "Judging something is the least of my worries..." A dim 'boo' echoed out in the background. A faint twitch of a protest. "My major worry is keeping this girl happy..." Annoyance made the words sour.

A giggle. The woman's lips spread into a wide smile."Mar-Mar! Does someone have a crush on this young lady~?" Such words made 'Mar-Mar' twitch more, already feeling his boiling point approaching. My, how irritating his 'Mother' was..! What was worse then being irritating..she wasn't dropping the subject!

"Mar-Mar's growin' up so fast~!" with that, the red headed woman twirled on her foot. The young boy could only ever wonder if she was a ballerina in her youth. "I remember - like it was just yesterday! - when you thought girls had cooties! And now look at you - worried a lil girl won't like you~!" With that, the nanny began pitching Marco's cheeks. Forcing the boy to smile, the lilac eyes flashed with a silent thought.

"Mar-Mar..." Both figures halted in their steps. One frozen with a fear that found its way up his spine. The other for all purposes of causing the spine tingling fear. A chuckle echoed into the air as the woman tugged the boy back. Arms twisted themselves over the boy's waist - resembling a hug - as a whisper was released. "...little girls don't like little boys at this age. So, you know what that means, ne~?"

Marco's eyes grew wide, the pupil instantly shrinking, with shock. Instantly his mouth was a gaped,"NoooOOOOO!" The pitch went up as the woman jetted into the nearest berry bush. A few that were passing near could only pause and gaze at the suspicious act. Yet...did they respond to it? Oh, you're funny there since they ended up going to their daily routine.

Moments later. "My masterpiece is complete~" With another twirl, the long red strands danced around the thin figure. Orbs flashed as if, out of nowhere, fans were waved. With acting out her own cheering crowd, the encouragement came."Mar-Mar, c'mon dear, show us what you look like~!!!"

A single, child-like, foot appeared from behind the bush. Said foot was covered by a shimmering, glitter blue, dress shoe. Same shoe was applied to the second foot. With a grumble, the boy finally revealed himself...in a dress. The summer dress fell to the middle mark of his knees. Said dress was a sky blue with a pocket on the front, right, side with a small Azurill iron-on. With each step, the pigtails jiggled. Sea-green orbs gave a faint glare and a foot made contact with the ground. Stomping a foot was a fist sing of a temper tantrum forming.

"Why a DRESS!?" A giggle was his only answer. A grump put an end to the giggle fit. Instantly, the elder put on a pout.

"Ma! Mar-Mar! You look pretty! Better then that business suit you were wearing!" Another stomp. "Maa~ But the girl will like you more~" Another rang out. "Eeeh! I mean, if you impress her with being 'cool outfit' - mainly thinking if you're a girl and all! - she'll convince her father to keep his business with you! And you'll keep your 'company' happy with extra cash to spare...!" The woman gave a small flinch. "Don't hurt me..!"

The boy fell silent. The foot had quit it's falling. Instantly, his hand gripped the dark shades resting on his head. Pulling them over the eyes, the young boy spoke out. "Lets go get this client then. For the company's strong future..!"

Soon enough, the boy found his desire goal. She was in a tang-top, shorts to her thighs...worse. Marco hesitated once viewing his client. She was, clearly, older then him. Perhaps by a year, two if most. Could he really handle such a girl? Mainly being dressed in such an attire?

"Hello~" chirped the nanny, catching the elder male's attention. "We've arrived~"

"Ah~ Pleasure to meet you, Miss and..." a dim eye at Marco. "I thought the heir was rumored to be a boy..."

A giggle."No! Not at all! This is Mari! The one, true, ONLY heir!" A nod, as the man found himself correcting that fact. Too bad Marco twitched, denying to accept this fact.

"Mister!" he protested. "I'm the heir's sister. Nannie-nan is playing games." The man chuckled, realizing the joke that stood in the air. Shortly, both adults went to 'business' discussing the work relationship for the future. Leaving the kids to themselves.

Once, out of earshot, Marco hissed."Stay clear of me, I'll stay clear of you." Instantly, the girl jerked back. Adding an icy stare, the boy's venom continued."I care not about you, your father, or your family at all. Just, for the sake of you not being on the streets in the near future, tell your father you enjoyed our time." Crossing his arms, the boy only shut his eyes at the dim whimper. My, how girls were troublesome..!

The strawberry blond muttered, forcing himself to walk. How he needed to find some clothes to slip into - BOY clothes, while at it. Slip into quickly, that is. As he continued his stroll, little did he realize someone could have been possibly near...

---

"I'm too cool for my dress, these shades don't leave my head..." - Meaghan Jette Martin; "Too Cool"

[E.nigma]

A little path of white gravel, meandered lazily through the park. Overgrown bushes, a few willows, and a large untrimmed hedge wrapped around its sides. Many shadows, and little hidey-nooks offered the perfect place for strangers to hide. here they could peddle candy to children, think dastardly thoughts . . and do other things which are too dark to speak about. Shadows covered the bright path in a camouflage pattern--women in jogger's outfits raced past Marco, as did a few baby buggies, and a balloon vendor. In the trees a few Caterpie lay stretched out on the wide trunk of the willow, sleeping.

A few little hoops of metal, and stone pentagons separated the path from the forest--but it was easy to imagine a gnarled hand reaching over the flimsy border and snapping you up.

--

Luckily, for Marco, the monster lurking in the bushes was one he had heard of, and not of the child molesting type. In fact, he was more of the just plain, child type. In this case however, the fact that he meant noi harm to Marco, was much more fortunate for his silly, guardian. For reasons know by Pravus, and a few darker associates--that involved assassinations, and torture.

Silhouetted by a windblown t-shirt, a figure (not much taller then Marco) stood like a statue at the end of the path. A pair of silky- brown gloves wer e buttoned around his wrist, and his torso was clad in a coffee-colored turtleneck. A pair of dark brown dress pants, run through with pin-stripes, were cinched about his wasit, and rolled up above his ankles. The hair atop his head was a chocolate color, and a single hand through his fingers would leave dark streaks on palms. The shoes on his feet were sandals--with socks strung around his odd wedge shaped toes. A pair of brightly rimmed (bright green) pinched at his nose--magnifying the bright golden eyes behind the lenses.

The eyes ,. . he had not bothered to disguise those.

A dark pin (same color as his dyed hair) , pulled his bangs back, effectively pinning his rabbit like ears among his mop of hair.

Why the disguise? Enigma was spying--or supervising of course.

The innocent glasses perched atop his rounded nose, were in fact high powered binoculars--with a zoom he could activate with a gloved finger against the outer edge. Marco's dress covered body was easily visible as a clear image on the lenses, shrouded in by bushes and the like.

It would appear this child--was Marco Fino Giraldo, if one could judge by the eyes the same as his grandfather--and that ridiculous woman's nickname.

--

With a paranoid glance to his right, and left, Enigma strolled onto the path--narrowly avoiding the other rich child (the girl) as she barreled back toward the park.

Tugging at his tight turtleneck, the Pravus member strolled closer to Marco--his bright eyes easily picking out the woman hiding in the bushes.

That woman looked familiar, maybe the idea of a child on council was not ridiculous? All it took was a quick glance at himself, and the science lab to confirm that.

Enigma fingered the bowler clutched in his right hand--using it to hide the lack of digits on that hand. Strolling up to Marco, in a light-hearted gait, one that was very different from his measured form of walking, he paused in front of the boy.
" . . .wow .. nice glasses---and nice . .err . .dress?"
Pausing, he turned to watch the other girl racing across the park to her father.
" You were not very nice to that girl . . .I know you think they have cooties and all but . .sheesh."
Well .. the dialect was more adolescent. Frankly-- the only reason he was disguised ? To see if this boy could ever actually be useful. Or was it all just an act--like the disgusting creature who was currently 'president'. Sticking out a gloved hand--Enigma stared at the pigtails jutting from Marco's head--surely his spies had not gotten the gender wrong? In a voice of forced happiness he 'introduced' himself:
"I've sometimes been called Thomas."

[Marco Fino Giraldo]

Metal cries rang out, symbolizing the need for new chains. The hypnotic rhythm of the swings was quite intriguing. Sea-green orbs could only absorb each said swaying motion - as if the owner was dying to swing, himself. Breaking the half hypnotic stare, Marco's eyes fluttered and his eyes shut.

The girls' whimpers had began fading. The throbbing pounding -- which he dubbed as a 'forming migraine' -- began to dissipate. Allowing a hand to travel to his temple, the boy found himself coming to a halt. Massaging his scalp gave him time to plot the next step -- hoping his 'Mother' didn't mess up (he couldn't afford a screw up!). A grit of his canines revealed his thoughts a frustrating topic.

" . . .wow .. nice glasses---and nice . .err . .dress?"

Thoughts instantly shattered. Automatically (running on sheer adrenaline) the young body turned on a dime; arms throw up, fists clenched (hoping to startle the person). Lips were dip low, the owner ready to bark out. He had no time for this -- someone in Pravus (so he assumed currently, without getting a gaze) to see him...in a dress, too! Already having a rocky reputation with his age gave him grief - he didn't also need this! The humiliation would be too unreal!

Orbs took aim to lock on with other pools, only to realize the figure was not much taller. Hitting the dark strands made the small figure's lashes bat, containing utter confusion. Said strands were hurled back, held in place by a tie. A brow was arched, questioning whether he did (or did not) just see rabbit-like ears.

Whatever.. the mind was already disregarding the hair. Instantly locking with green shades. The boy found his body not tensing, starting with his fists releasing their balling. Said shades...no, the pools that were behind it. Something told the boy - instinctively wise - his was, indeed, a Pravus member.

"Tch." The hands fell limp, apparently lifeless. Words rang out again - from the other male. However, the said t-shirt, dress pant, wearing figure was not giving him any attention. Did he really care for the whimpering - no, now bawling - girl? You got to be kidding me...he cares for a client?

Marco felt his arms crossing, a flush crept to his face. This guy was - already!? - stating girls' had cooties and (to Marco) this felt as an insult. A faint 'hrrrrmmm' (a growl, perhaps?) escaped the locked lips. Eyebrows had a faint arch down, holding his annoyed expression.

The body gesture of the older (yet young looking) male made Marco's own body jerk. Taken back by the hand jetting out, his expression was dumbfounded once more. Collecting himself, Marco coughed and adjusted his composure. The visible forced happiness didn't phase the boy. Marco's child, right, hand extended. Like a business deal, he spoke;

"Marco Fino Giraldo. Thomas, I suppose I don't have to full conduct this as a business negotiation--" 'negotiation' had a slight misplacement for being still a boy "--now, do we? Since..." He pulled away, already eying at his clothes. "..."

His arms thrust down, fingers instantly twisting the fabric of the dress. Said arms ascended, throwing the dress instantly off. With a grumble, the dress instantly hit the grass next to the path. The shorts (whom he wore from the beginning to the park) found their place, riding close to his knees. Hands wrenched, yanking the ties from his strawberry hair (taking a few strands). Said hands ranked through the hair, attempting to throw it back as if it were gelled. Realizing the said, faintly pinkish, blond hair could hold (for now) Marco was satisfied..for the moment.

With a dim satisfaction, the boy could only shoot poison daggers at the dress. Why was he such a weakling to her? How come he couldn't say no? Thoughts were to be answered another day, another time. Not to metion....his eyes locked on the other male figure. Receiving any expression didn't matter now, for he expected great misery over this secret.

Despite being shirtless, the boy huffed. "Sorry--" clearly forced, being never liking to admitting his mistakes. "--my Mother always wanted a girl..." a dim sigh, as if regretting being his own gender. "...and I can't say no?" Another swift in composure,"That's not the matter here..."

A small cough. "Business you need, don't you?" Once more, arms interlaced, to become crossed. "What is it?" Ah, the brat within never ceases...

[E.nigma]

From behind the thin glasses--Enigma followed Marco's gaze, only registering the fact that swings were in motion, before turning back. That stare, it seemed the young boy wanted to play, which was completely understandable seeing as they were standing in a park . .for children.

The initial response was aggressive, or more accurately defensive. A lip pulled back from growing teeth, tongue poised to shout, and muscled little fists raised upward into the air. The Pravus member did not react emotionally, but he forced himself to step back in shock. The theatric little "scaredy-cat" act came to a stop with military precision, a booted foot landing smoothly on the shaky gravel.

The reason for the anger seemed to dissipate as the boy observed Enigma (or at least "Thomas") , and the chubby little fists relaxed. The tense arms, and muscles loosened--and for a moment Marco resembled a normal cherub of a child (or at least the angelic image of one). The heir's face then distorted into that of a growling little beast, eyes narrowed, and very obviously annoyed.

When the boy spoke, the words seemed somewhat alien to his mouth--and he kept glancing at hs clothing, not exactly comfortable.
" Pleasure to meet you Marco-- . . .what kind of "negotiations" . . business? What kind of business can one possibly cond--have in a park?"
The sounds of happy, playing children echoed all around Enigma--thundering in his rabbit like ears. Much like Marco earlier, a migraine was beginning to coalesce about his temples--and he had the foolish urge to cup his hands over his head to stifle the sound. With the slightest hint of interest, he watched as the boy ripped off the top layer of clothes from his body--and showed himself to be well . .male.

It appeared his spies could avoid a racking--even if Marco had confirmed his suspicions, this cemented them. Yet, at the same time it sent a bit of uncertainty bubbling in his gut. This cross dresser? Was this the new face of Pravus? The boy who gave out his real name, walked around unsupervised--and made little girls cry? Not to mention stood there with his arms crossed, resembling a very spoiled child. In fact he looked ready to throw a tantrum, and stomp his feet at this very moment--not exactly endearing.

--

"Thomas" 's expression remained surprisingly neutral, a thin eyebrow (also dyed brown) arching slightly, as he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. The fact that the boy was shirtless did not bother Enigma, nor did he offer him a shirt. If the child wished to bare his torso to the world, he could do as he pleased--no need to displease the council.

" Your mother didn't get a girl--why not go try again--and leave blokes, blokes?"
Really, that woman's 'wishes' might permanently change the boy, make him useless, weak--or mentally damaged. Even though many things were accepted--top officials (male ones) were not allowed to pirouette into meetings in dresses and glittering sequins.
"Well ya can say no-- doesn' the lady listen? Isn't it . ."
This child seemed more embarrassed that he was male than anything, but Enigma finished with a high-pitched:
"embarrassing?"
The 'boy' then proceeded to tug at his own clothes, pretending to contemplate the thought of being female--in reality he was actually shifting the tape recorder under his shirt to a more favorable position.

Maybe a playback of Marco's voice would help reveal little changes or traits he had overlooked?

--

"Business? What business? I thought kids played in the park--not played business man."
That crossing oft he arms was rather annoying, but like most things in life--easily brushed away.
" . .where is ya mom Marco? Isn't it kinda dangerous to leave you alone out here? Some bad folks might be around."
This question was a baited hook, a way to see how much of a loud mouth Marco was.

--

One may ask why Enigma was messing with his future boss. The answer is simple. At heart, even if the information was relatively useless, the Pravus man liked knowing how things stand. Call it curiosity--mixed with paranoia.

The boy , and most council matters, were a mystery to even him; and observing this boy was his first peek at the inner workings of the Council.