the leveller [mal]

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

2 January 2028

Jack leaned back on the well worn sofa, his guitar sat on his lap as he stared blankly into the distance. He absently plucked at the strings, but he was deep in thought, he didn’t notice what sort of melody he was composing. Jack had thought very hard over the past few weeks - certainly harder than he’d ever thought in his life. He had a lot of things to consider regarding his future. Namely if he wanted to continue on at LIFE.

Jack had never intended to spend much time at LIFE in training to be a hit wizard. The job had never appealed to him in the first place. It was just the first thing he’d seen when looking for a well-paying ministry job. Because that’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? Money. It drove everything, making madmen of them all, obsessed with status and fortune. It made him sick - but Jack needed it too. How else would his mums be able to feed themselves? To make the follow up healer appointments post illness? The economy chewed them up, spit them out, then took seconds.

If Jack was honest, his heart had never been in anything but making music. Now, he had what seemed like a golden opportunity dropped into his lap. An opportunity to sign with HR records - to produce at least one record annually. It was a tough job, but due to the frequency of the records, Jack was afforded freedom that he likely wouldn’t have been given elsewhere. He could write and sing what he wanted - as long as the records sold. And Jack sensed there was an appetite for change. He’d had a few sessions with Camilla, who had explained the current landscape of the music industry. The labels still had a chokehold on their artists, but the listeners… they were asking for something different.

Abruptly, Jack sat up and placed his guitar to the side. He shuffled to the fridge and cracked open a beer. He took a long swig, before returning to his spot on the sofa. He took another drink, before pulling the guitar back onto his lap and strumming experimentally.

malcolm calan clark

[malcolm calan clark]

The new year meant new projects, absorbing Malcolm in work at the ministry. He was exhausted living the life of a curse breaker but it paid...okay...well, it probably could have paid better considering there were many times his life was jeopardized. But it was exciting. Malcolm would rather scoop his eyes out with spoons than work at an office job. It seemed that paying for life with his camera lens wouldn't ever happen, which was somewhat disappointing. Maybe some day he'd find a way.

After a long couple of days at work, he was ready to kick his feet up. Hell, maybe smoke a joint if Jack was down. Malcolm pushed open the front door and greeted Jack who was on the sofa strumming his guitar. "Heey." Mal tossed his keys on the counter and beelined for the fridge to crack open a beer. Mal took a long sip and sighed. "Sup?" he asked, noticing that Jack had that "look" on his face. That look like something was on his mind. Malcolm wasn't typically an intuitive individual but he knew his brother better than anyone in his life.

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Mal hadn't been spending much time at home as of late - Jack knew he'd been flat out with assignments, and the pair always made time for each other despite the thrill of competition between them. Jack knew that Mal would come to him in his own time and give him updates, much the same as Jack did for Mal. He pursed his lips as a flat chord was struck, grimacing. Jack looked up as the front door opened, and though he was mildly surprised to see Mal enter at a reasonable hour, Jack returned his attention to his guitar, lost in thought.

"Evening," Jack greeted when Mal beelined for the fridge for a beer. They were nothing if not predictable. Jack paused his plucking for a moment to take another swig of his own drink. "Mmm, just thinking," Jack muttered, glancing from his instrument to his brother. "I'm fuckin bored, man. I don't want to do this ministry shit, but I know we need the money," said Jack with a sigh. "I can't help thinking that we're going down some shitty rabbit hole. As a people, you know? Working ourselves to death," he added after a moment. Jack tapped the body of his guitar before adding. "I spoke with HR records..."

malcolm calan clark

[malcolm calan clark]

Mal took a sip of his beer, listening and staring off at the beaten wallpaper behind the television as Jack explained he wasn't interested in working for the ministry anymore. That came no surprise to him. He offered him a nonchalant shrug, "I'm surprised you've lasted this long with the ministry shit." he told him honestly, taking a swig of his beer as he contemplated Jacks words about the real world work trap...he didn't want to work his entire life but it felt like that was all he and his brother ever did to keep their heads above water, to help their mums. Mal shrugged, "We, and everyone else, are just objects in a Human Resources work management trap. There is no way to free yourself from this system because everyone is pretty much one wrong move away from homelessness." Mal stated harshly before gesturing to the rickety liquor cabinet. "If we're goin deeper into the meaning of life we gotta break out the whiskey."

Jack started to mention that he had a meeting with HR records, which quirked his interest a bit more. It appeared he finally marched his happy arse over to the record company to show off his talents, which surprised him slightly, though he knew it shouldn't. Mal knew that Jack would die if he had to work behind a desk or for "the man" for the rest of his life.

"No shit? How'd that go?" he asked with a curious tilt of the head, nursing his cold beer in his hands and sinking into one of the arm chairs beside the sofa.

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Jack smirked. "A whole, half year," he replied darkly. It hadn't been long since he'd been on his course, but it had truly felt like ages. "It's bollocks," he added with a huff. Jack lamented his sorry lot, though as he did so, he realised that he was actually kind of lucky. He hadn't ended up in jail, or kicked out of school (though he and Mal had done their best on this one) or at the wrong end of a duel. Jack was more or less existing. Unfortunately, that just wasn't enough for him.

Plucking a few more vague notes from his guitar, Jack placed his instrument on the ground and nodded in agreement. It was definitely a whisky night, especially with the news that he brought. Jack snatched his wand from the coffee table, gave it a flick and a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses floated towards them, settling down with a rather loud clink on the coffee table. "Shit, I didn't actually expect that summoning charm to work," Jack murmured, busying himself by pouring the pair of them a drink.

Jack took a long sip, letting the liquid burn into his tongue. He savoured the sharp bite of pain, and the relief when he swallowed it down. "They offered me a contract," said Jack at last, looking up at Mal. "First record within 9 months, then one every 18 after if they like the first one," said Jack, exhaling. "It's a fucking lot of work, Mal. But it's what I always wanted," said Jack, meeting his brother's gaze and cracking a smile.

malcolm calan clark

[malcolm calan clark]

”Fuck it.” he shrugged lazily. Mal knew Jack wouldn’t last long working a “big boy” job. Hell, he was surprised how long he himself lasted curse breaking. The charm of the job was starting to wear off. As much as he loved traveling, his quench for adventure was always fulfilled...sometimes he just wanted to slow down. He was tired of making other people rich when he barely made enough to put food on the table himself.

Mal nodded in approval as Jack successfully summoned two glasses and fire whiskey. ”Someones been practicing..” he raised his glass to take a healthy swig in celebration.

His eyes widened at the news, it sounded like Jacks dreams were coming true. ”That’s fucking mint, brotha!” he exclaimed, leaning forward to give him congratulatory slap on the back. Mal was truly happy for Jack. He  put his blood, sweat and tears into his music, there was no one else more deserving in his world. Mal wished his mind worked more like Jacks when it came to those things, he’d always been jealous of his brothers knack for writing lyrics and music. His eyes fell on his brother as he explained the contract, taking a sip from his glass, ”You better take that..” he insisted, more seriously. ”This is everything you’ve been working for…” Mal’s head tilted to the side as he quickly asked, ”You’re gonna take it, right?”

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Jack had never been the sort to excel at traditional schooling. He and Mal often joked that they were students in the school of life - if the school of life meant skipping class to smoke, engaging in underage drinking, and caring more about the artful manner they styled their hair than anything else. Jack started off by saying that he'd spoken to the record label - Mal was the only one who'd known about that at first. And somehow, Addy had gotten herself involved as well. Jack trusted her, more than any of the other birds he'd seen in his life. Jack flinched at this thought, and filed it away for later.

Summoning the whisky was surprisingly easy, though Jack wondered if maybe it was because he was feeling so good. Maybe it was the lack of confidence in his magical abilities that had hindered him all these years? Either way, he didn't care. Jack just wanted to write and play his music. He took a swig of the whisky, then passed it off to Mal. At last, he revealed the golden offer HR Records had provided. A first record within the next 9 months, then one at least every 18 months for five years afterwards. It was an incredible deal, especially considering how Jack hadn't played professionally before. "Right, it's a sound fucking deal," said Jack, an easy smile spreading across his face.

"Of course I'm gonna take it," said Jack with a laugh. "I'd be mad not to. They're even talking about slotting me into some festivals at the end of the summer - they think if I can get a single out by June, I'd be in a good place," he added, unable to keep the excitement out of his tone. "But I wanted to ask... and you can say no. But do you want to play with me? Maybe on a track or two? I could use a drummer and you're not bad..." said Jack with a smirk, but his eyes were shining with uncharacteristic hope.

malcolm calan clark

[malcolm calan clark]

Malcolm watched carefully as his brother spoke about the record deal, finally ending with asking if he'd join him because he needed a drummer. He noticed the hopeful look in his brothers eyes. Music had always given Jack an insatiable hunger. Watching Jack write a song was a fascinating process in itself.. muttering, hunched over a notebook.

This was more than making money - they were chasing a dream. Obviously the money helped. and shagging lasses all over the globe. Every teen dreamt of being a rockstar. Malcolm always knew Jack could do it, he just never thought he'd actually want him to come along for the journey. The only reason why Mal started playing drums to begin with was to play with his brother as a young lad. There was no way he'd say no to the offer to record and join the tour if he was extending an invite to him. Fuck his job of curse breaking and risking his life. This was a once in a lifetime expierience. Malcolm would drop everything right then and there...a break from curse breaking sounded enticing.

There wasn't much thought that had to go into the decision since his brother was asking. "Yes." he nodded in agreement, slapping his brother on the back with a loving hug. "Abso-fucking-lutely I'll join you. I'm so proud of you, man. There's no way I'm missing out on this." Malcolm told him, excitement welling in his stomach. He couldn't wait to tell his mates. "This is crazy, you cheeky little bastard, you fucking did it." he laughed in disbelief, raising his beer in honor of his brother.

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

As much as Jack loathed to admit it, he hungered for his brother’s approval. Mal had been an ever-present thorn in his side, but also his biggest supporter. To see that continued support had Jack’s heart soaring. Tentatively, Jack proposed that Mal join on tour, and also on some of the records as drummer. He didn’t want to ask Mal to give up the life he’d built for himself - something that had come much more naturally for him than for Jack. But he couldn’t imagine turning his dreams into reality without his brother.

There was a long stretch of silence as Mal considered. Jack’s palms were clammy, and he surreptitiously wiped them on the legs of his jeans. But his worry was baseless, as Mal crashed into Jack with his overlong arms wrapping around his torso. Jack let out a breathless laugh of relief. ”Thank fuck,” he exclaimed, a grin splitting his face. ”Yeah, I did,” said Jack smugly, clinking his beer against Mal’s and drinking deeply. ”Imagine all the shit we’ll get up to on the road. Imagine people coming to see two lads from Falkirk.” Jack snorted with laughter.

malcolm calan clark

[malcolm calan clark]

"Well, shit. Lets get to fuckin' work then, mate. June'll roll around before ya know it." Mal was a bit eager to take a leave of absence from curse breaking. His friends and family warned him it would take a toll on him and he always ignored the warnings because of pride. These days he was tired and overworked. If this opportunity didn't fall into Jacks lap, Mal knew he'd be curse breaking forever so he was grateful. If he had to ride his brothers coat tails, he'd gladly do it and support him while he did it. There was a hint of jealousy pinching at his gut, naturally. Jack had always been the more creative Clark with the ability to write a tune about anything. Mal wasn't as gifted but he knew how to keep a beat on drums and enjoyed collaborating.

His stomach flipped with excitement as Jack marveled at the idea of people coming to see two guys from Falkirk perform at festivals, bobbing his head along excitedly, "Imagine the big boobied groupies and parties we'll get invited to." he added taking another long swig of his beer. This was the best news, it actually involved him so he was buzzing. Mal cocked his head to the side curiously, "Have you told Ma yet?" 


JOHN ELLIOT CLARK