gocirclegogo | THERE BE A POST HERE

[Accosting Will out of nowhere, popping up in his face with a stack of papers in her arms, is one small loli in a school uniform and glasses.]

Ne, ne! Will-san, you're an editor right?

[And her reward is him jumping slightly, from three main reasons. One, the fact someone just invaded his office. Two, it's Mairu. Three, how does she even know that? She can catch his eyes darting behind her head, where the blond secretary stands in the doorway. Shaking her head and shrugging, then leaving a second later. Nonverbal equivalent of "wasn't me and I'm not helping on this one".

Sigh. Then staring directly at her. There's no question of how does she know that, because it's only done on the side and scarce few names know about it for now. But questioning it won't change the fact that she knows, and she could always know worse, so who cares. Papers and that question means a job, but no need to wrench money from a stupid bouncy girl.]

I am. Have something?

[Mairu seems even more excited at the confirmation, and she sets the papers down in front of Will, covered in writing and lots of it and she seems so innocently eager and excited and happy.]

Would you edit these? Please? Could you? I really want to publish them but my English still isn't the best.

[Were she handing this to anyone else, she'd be told to come back in a week and her novel is so long it's painful. In Will's case, there's a speeding glance through the first page. Flip to second, to third, and on the fourth there's the most subtle of eyetwitches.

Oh god, she's a fanfic writer. Oh God.

And it's a very visible restraint that keeps from snapping at her and instead going toward strained bitterness.] Me and Mikado? Really? You're putting libel on my desk and asking me to proofread it?!

[Calm down, getting too worked up over a foolish child. She already knows he's an editor, and if she's able to dig up that kind of information, he's less than enthused to find out if she went so far as to get blackmail to guarantee his acceptance. Add into the equation that she's just a stupid teenage girl, rampant shipping never hurt anyone, and he's physically incapable of turning down someone genuinely happy with what they're doing. Even if it is grossly OOC and full of typos and grammar errors.

Also mortifying as hell, can't forget that. Right about here is where she'd brace for the statement of 'come back in two weeks', or more likely an outright no.] Twenty minutes.

[What? And a beat follows.] I refuse to give to contacts to publishers. I refuse to be the one on record as your editor. I refuse to edit any works involving myself.

[At least he's not demanding payment. Small miracles?]

It's not libel.

[Mairu protests because that's totally not the intent but anyway, distracted because that was a yes. That was totally a yes. He said yes!!!]

[Delighted she throws herself across his desk and somehow manages not to scatter everything too badly--maybe because she's a ninja--and hugs him fiercely.]

Thank you!

[Really happy and heartfelt and she means it and yay! He said yes! It's possible all the conditions didn't even register over all the enthusiasm and happy.]

[The look on his face screams 'yes it is libel and your denying it convinces nothing', but the expression breaks at her reaction. One hand slammed down on her stack so she doesn't send it flying everywhere, the other one reflexively hugging her back, mostly from the instinctive reaction to not let her lose her balance and go falling off the desk and i don't know crack her head open and die on the floor or something, blood stains never wash out on most surfac

Right here is when he realizes what he's doing and retracts his arm again. Mask intact and back to business apathy. And it's the most he can snap back, because ugh, humans and their genuine happiness and the fact he can't say no to it. It'll be the death of him. Again.]

You're welcome. Please don't destroy my office.

[She kisses his cheek enthusiastic as the rest of it as she squirms away again. Boundaries? Personal space? What are those? Probably no surprise to him though, considering her manuscript and how they met with her all over Lion. She manages to hop off his desk without knocking things off of it, and she really must be part ninja, but rocking back on her heels with her braids swinging around her, even the slightly disturbing and playful grin is more cute than unsettling.]

Twenty minutes!

[She chirps it, a promise and confirmation, and like a small whirlwind she's out of his office to go harass his ero ero secretaries. And make a friend. And in twenty minutes she's back again.]

[While he isn't a fan of the personal space invasions, he is still aware of her clingy almost-rapist tendencies toward Lion from previous. Mostly, she gets away with it because she's having a joy aneurysm on his desk. Her kiss gets nothing more than a muffled irritated noise in the back of his throat, and would be shooing her off if it wasn't for her bouncing off on her own.]

I get it already. Twenty minutes.

[Already preparing a red fountain pen for assault by the time she leaves. And to his credit, he does make it in twenty minutes. Mairu walks back in on the rare glimpse of a Will at work on the last page, all red circles and commas and notes in margins, visibly squinting at the the words until a second after she walks in. Farsighted? Never.

All she gets is a blank stare for all of two seconds. Then finishing up his last notation. Her works are split into two perfectly neat piles, now additionally sorted off in paperclips, gesturing to the larger one with the end of his pen right when he finishes.]

Those are the completed ones. [And to the second.] And the ones I refused. I am working on the assumption you heard my conditions.

[She plops herself down on the edge of his desk and picks up the stack of completed to flip through, cheerful and happy and eeeeee all joy again.]

Nothing with you, right? So I can still bring you the Lion-san ones.

[She bites the edge of her finger as she reads some of his notes, not at all discouraged by all the red.]

Ne, ne, Will-san? Do you think they'll sell? I mean, with the corrections are they publishable?

[Mairu earns a wince, because he'd been through that entire stack. Asking for a reaffirmation on his proofreading her girlfriend's father raping her is not exactly something he's okay with. But he said nothing with himself. That was the condition. A verbal misstep that's already being regretted, and it's only been twenty minutes.]

I already did them, and will. Don't make my mistake apparent.

[In short, stop trolling. And his red, while numerous enough to be intimidating, isn't all that bad to begin with. Mostly just grammar mistakes, with the few notes in oddly-refined-considering-the-owner scriptive on the sides, mostly about rearranging sentences that are too repetitive or break up the rhythm. Flawless editor, even on things he doesn't approve of.]

I said I wouldn't introduce you to a publisher either. I doubt most large companies would take projects like yours. [That's not to say they wouldn't sell. He doesn't approve of it, but that's not to say that everyone ever would be adverse to it. She'd fill a niche market of people who like hilarious shipping badfic, and would probably make a small murder off of it. The problem is getting someone to pick her up. Hm.]

This is only a business suggestion. [Which means he is NOT endorsing her shit, still going down as an anonymous editor, or she can give the credit to someone else. Not involved. At all.] You should try gathering the money to self-publish a few of them first. Use the success based off your small audience to find a larger backer later on. Unless your income is great enough to continue self-publishing.

[Mairu stacks the things in her lap, listening to Will attentively as he speaks, eyes sparkling behind her spectacles.]

Will-san, you're a really sweet guy! I'll try that!

[And immediately tapping her feet against the edge of the desk as she tries to think about it, then pulls a face. She doesn't want to owe her brother another favor, owing him for Ange is worrying enough, so she'll have to figure out this self-publishing thing without him. Oh well.]

Hey! Do you have a cell? Do you? Do you? I want your number and screen name! It'd be fun to see you in chat!

[Her comment about sweetness only gets a sigh. Less irritated and more defeated. If Dlanor or her groupies showed up, he would be endlessly mocked. But being called a softie is better than most other reputations he's had. Heartless monster to giant sap and babysitter.

Ugh.]

Mm. Just be sure to only make a couple hundred copies at first.

[At least she already has an editor, albeit one choosing to remain anonymous. And it's also someone else she can pester for information rather than Izaya. His only problem is a personal one, so keeping his name off it is good enough for his pride.

Oh god then she's talking about cell phones and almost immediately images of all of his teenage stalkers spamming his inbox and voicemail, constantly. Constantly. Oh god. Oh god no.]

I don't, nor do I wish for one.

Got it! But hey, why don't you? You should! It'd make contacting you easier!

[She flips one of her braids over her shoulder, tilting her head curiously at a thought.]

Ne, ne! How do you self publish anyway? Is there a way to start?

It would make contacting me too easy.

[A decision made by two simple parts. Half from the mindset that, if someone wants to talk to him that badly, they know where to find him. It's not like he's prone to wandering out of his usual haunts or turning away visitors. Having a phone is just redundant there.

The other, more important half, is the one that first come up on instinct at the thought. Too many obnoxious teenagers that flock to him like a guidance counselor. The instant that number gets passed out, it'll would be filled with hyperactive spam texts after the first ten minutes. Along with some drunkenly mauled typo-filled ones, depending on the day.

So much no to this idea.

Then she's talking again, and he only offers a shrug. Internally cursing that he's the one who ends up explaining everything, but eh. He already made his points, she's only asking for advice, and he was never one to turn that kind of thought process away.] To start, you should keep in mind what publishers handle. The shorthand is they handle the printing and advertisement of your book, in exchange for a cut of the sales. There's other contracts within it involving how much they take, on whether ownership of a title is technically theirs or not, if they would get rights to future releases, things like that.

Self-publishing gives you the freedom to do as you want with your advertising and your book, but you also pay for everything yourself. You're a female foreigner from an alternate dimension trying to sell to a niche market. Your biggest fight in general will be your first one - finding a printer to give you the time of day without ripping you off. Once you get your books physically, the rest will be easier in comparison.

THERE BE A POST HERE

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