Georgie sat in an alley, staring absentmindedly at the brick wall in front of him. The burger he was currently eating had the mild taste of sawdust. The taste was unsatisfying, but the eating was fulfilling. He could have stayed in the fast food restaurant, but bright lights had always bothered him. Even following his father around the small grocery store in his home town had irritated his senses, making him squint and grab his father's pant leg for guidance. His eyesight had been checked, but they found no physical abnormalities.<br/>Finishing his burger, Georgie carefully folded the wrapper and placed the empty, crinkling wrappings into the metal waste bin just beside him. The smell of the alley was not particularly unpleasant, when not focussed upon.<br/>A ringing noise brought Georgie's attention to his green backpack. His cell phone was ringing. The only person that had Georgie's number was H.E.A.R.T, so it was easy to know who was calling. A short rummage in the front pouch of his backpack, and he retrieved the ringing device. "This is Smiles," he said cheerfully, excited to have another job. The 'group activity' of last week was already forgotten as just another day.<br/>The phone on the other line gave Georgie details of location on where he would receive his orders. The request that he should wear his civilian clothes intrigued him. Was it perhaps a test? Georgie looked down at himself, examining his dirt covered hoodie in distaste. He could certainly use some new clothes. Perhaps semi-casual would be presentable. The screen of his phone displayed the time. He compared it to the time that the message had specified. He had enough time to do a bit of shopping. He sat up with a grunt, pulling his backpack around one shoulder. He was still a little tipsy from a beer he had had earlier in the day. He wasn't an avid drinker, but went to bars off and on, usually to pick up women and watch hockey games. He was a personal fan of the Winnipeg Jets, and made occasional bets on their win for the thrill.<br/>He tottered out of the alley, securing his backpack and running a hand through his sandy, somehow clean hair.<br/>"Please," a voice from behind Georgie caused him to spin around fiercely, face contorted into a horrible snarl, hands in a position to lay down a beating. His guard was lowered when he saw that it was simply a homeless man, who had been across from him almost the entire time he had been in the alley. He had simply thought the pile of rags to be another fixture of garbage. "Please," the man continued, now sitting up and gazing at Georgie through wiry, unkempt hair and beard, "can you spare any money?" He had the voice of a man who had long given up, but still continued because it was simply his way of life.<br/>Georgie stared at the man for a few moments. He had preferred it when he thought the man had been a garbage pile. Perhaps he could scare the man a little, build up his own self confidence. He reached in to a side pouch of his bag, retrieving a foldable knife. He unfolded the blade and held it lovingly, pressing the blade gently under his fingernails to be rid of any dirt that had accumulated there. "You see," he began with a sharp intake of breath, "I really shouldn't talk to strangers. My dad says they're dangerous, y'know?" He took a step forward, admiring his newly cleaned nails. "You never know who a person could be. They could be a kidnapper, a molester, a... murderer." Georgie took another step forward, eyes glinting with a fierce madness. He was now towering over the man, who cowered against the brick wall behind him. Georgie's foot shot out, giving the homeless man a firm kick in the ribs. The man, naturally let out a sharp squeal of pain. Georgie let out a delighted sigh, placing his foot on the man's own foot, this time slowly increasing the pressure. The man attempted to move Georgie's foot, tears in his, but didn't have the strength.<br/>"My donation," Georgie hissed, bending down to look at the man's face, with a wicked grin on his own. He held his blade to the man's throat, as obscured by beard as it was. Georgie stared into the man's eyes for a pleasurable amount of the time. This control over another man's life, his absolute power, felt so very erotic. His entire body shivered with a perverse pleasure as he finished his statement. "...is your life. Since you asked so awfully nicely." Georgie stepped off of the man, folding his knife back up. It wasn't through empathy that Georgie had saved the man. It had been a simple decision, like whether to get chocolate or vanilla.<br/>As Georgie left down the alley, backpack swinging, a song from home came to mind. His lips parted to quietly him the tune that had so invaded his brain. "And I gazed on the harbour, on a gray foggy day..."<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Georgie entered the H.E.A.R.T. building, eyes scanning his surroundings carefully. He had decided against buying clothes and instead had washed his regular clothes at a 24 hour laundromat. He wore a blue knitted toque, a dark green tee shirt, and plain jeans.<br/>He found the regular briefing room and entered, feeling suddenly apprehensive about wearing his civilian clothes. It felt so wrong. What was all this?<br/>Georgie's fears were confirmed when he found two faces in the briefing room instead of one. Memories of the five-man kidnapping session of a week ago came flooding back. Was this related? Was this punishment for him having joined the mission on his own accord? He let nothing sway him outwardly, instead calmly choosing a chair at the table and relaxing, or at least attempting to.<br/>People continued to file in, until the room was a sea of faces. Some tingled Georgie's memory, while one received no recognition. As he remembered the mission, he remembered Ghost. She was his prime target. A favour from her would have high worth. Unfortunately, it didn't appear that she was here. Georgie prevented himself from gritting his teeth in annoyance. Normally with his helmet, it was much easier to present himself in a proper manner, but now he would have to focus.<br/>The briefing began, and Georgie could barely believe what he was hearing. Was this an elementary school? Would they be singing kumbaya and playing name games in a circle? He considered leaving. He could find another job. With his 'skills' it wouldn't be hard. Yet something kept him in his seat. This was something interesting. Exciting. He let out laugh, clapping once in an amused manner. "This is like a staff party!" He announced, eyes twinkling, "shall we introduce ourselves, have some cake?" There was no cake, but the joke was clear to those in the room. This was not normal. They themselves were not normal. Georgie leaned back in his chair, rubbing his nose lightly. "I'm Smiles, or George, if you prefer. I'm much prettier without the helmet, don't you think?" He decided to wholeheartedly embrace this freak show, wherever it would lead them. Just as long as he could remember everyone's bloody names.