Doug and Artie, Friday afternoon
Feb. 11th, 2011 01:33 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated because I forgot to post.
Doug runs into Artie in Manhattan
Artie had gone into the city for a classes. Those over, he'd opted for coffee and a sandwich before getting a bus back home again. Seated in a corner window booth at a diner near the Brownstone, the boy's sandwich sat untouched in front of him as he'd turned his attention to a $20 bill which he was painstakingly copying onto a slip of paper, one illusionary line at a time.
Doug blinked as he tried to figure out what Artie was doing. He'd stopped in to grab lunch himself, as it was one of the rare occasions where he had little to do at the office, and so he was simply keeping an eye on things from his apartment. And avoiding his coworkers, still, for the most part, but he wasn't really admitting to that. "What do we have here?" he asked, amusedly as he sat down in the chair opposite Artie. ~A budding forger in the making?~ he signed when Artie looked up at him.
-Of course not- Artie replied. -No one would ever believe this is real because it doesn't feel right. I'd figure out a way to forge cheques or something if I was going to do that. Do you need like, ID and things to cash a cheque?-
-Yeah, but that's why you learn how to make a fake ID too,- Doug signed back. He supposed he should feel guilty about contributing to the delinquency of a teenager or something like that, but he'd known Artie since he was quite young. Besides, given the sorts of things he did for a living, he'd be something of a hypocrite if he was trying to keep Artie on the straight and narrow.
This was Doug and for once, that meant Artie didn't have to resort to projections to communicate, since, unlike some people, Doug could speak the right damn language. It also meant he had more attention to spare for creating better projections. Artie gave the guy a shit eating grin and projected an image of his driver's licence onto the table, Doug's name on it and a date of birth that claimed he was 21. -Dude, I've got that in the bag. Never used it, though: no one would believe I'm 21.-
-You'd be surprised,- Doug signed back with a chuckle. -People have a tendency to see what they want to see. Dress a little more subdued, with a button-down or something, and people tend to add a few years to your age.- Reality, in so many ways, was shaped by perception. -And it's a good fake. That said, if I ever find out about you kiting checks using my name, I will whip your ass.- The signing had a humorous tinge to it, though, and a smirk on Doug's face made it clear that the threat was mostly in jest.
Artie started. -Seriously, you think all it takes are the right clothes?- One of these days, he'd put it to a test at a liquor store other than the spectacularly easy going one near the bus station. -And no, dude. I would never do that to you. I'm just trying to figure out what kind of things my powers are actually good for. I mean, it's like, ooooh, I can make pictures and that's pretty crap, you know?-
Doug grimaced. If Marie-Ange hadn't up and left, he would have perhaps suggested that Artie work with her, since there seemed like a natural synergy between their powers. But that was still something of a sore subject. -Well, seems like you've got at least a few ideas,- he noted.
-And yet, I can't think of anything useful to do with them that isn't going to involve things like cheating at cards. Or monopoly.- Artie let his projection of the $20 bill go and took a moment to cover the table in a monopoly board, before making it vanish again.
-I can think of about five different ways you could fleece idiots of their money, and that's just off the top of my head.- Doug shrugged. -And with money, there's plenty of other things that you can do.-
-I suppose,- Artie said and managed to look doubtful about it all. -So, basically, you think my power is to be an awesome con artist one day? Doesn't that lead to like, jail, death and destruction? Still, could be worse. I could be stuck with the power to rot your face off.-
-Only if you get caught, son. Only if you get caught.-
Doug runs into Artie in Manhattan
Artie had gone into the city for a classes. Those over, he'd opted for coffee and a sandwich before getting a bus back home again. Seated in a corner window booth at a diner near the Brownstone, the boy's sandwich sat untouched in front of him as he'd turned his attention to a $20 bill which he was painstakingly copying onto a slip of paper, one illusionary line at a time.
Doug blinked as he tried to figure out what Artie was doing. He'd stopped in to grab lunch himself, as it was one of the rare occasions where he had little to do at the office, and so he was simply keeping an eye on things from his apartment. And avoiding his coworkers, still, for the most part, but he wasn't really admitting to that. "What do we have here?" he asked, amusedly as he sat down in the chair opposite Artie. ~A budding forger in the making?~ he signed when Artie looked up at him.
-Of course not- Artie replied. -No one would ever believe this is real because it doesn't feel right. I'd figure out a way to forge cheques or something if I was going to do that. Do you need like, ID and things to cash a cheque?-
-Yeah, but that's why you learn how to make a fake ID too,- Doug signed back. He supposed he should feel guilty about contributing to the delinquency of a teenager or something like that, but he'd known Artie since he was quite young. Besides, given the sorts of things he did for a living, he'd be something of a hypocrite if he was trying to keep Artie on the straight and narrow.
This was Doug and for once, that meant Artie didn't have to resort to projections to communicate, since, unlike some people, Doug could speak the right damn language. It also meant he had more attention to spare for creating better projections. Artie gave the guy a shit eating grin and projected an image of his driver's licence onto the table, Doug's name on it and a date of birth that claimed he was 21. -Dude, I've got that in the bag. Never used it, though: no one would believe I'm 21.-
-You'd be surprised,- Doug signed back with a chuckle. -People have a tendency to see what they want to see. Dress a little more subdued, with a button-down or something, and people tend to add a few years to your age.- Reality, in so many ways, was shaped by perception. -And it's a good fake. That said, if I ever find out about you kiting checks using my name, I will whip your ass.- The signing had a humorous tinge to it, though, and a smirk on Doug's face made it clear that the threat was mostly in jest.
Artie started. -Seriously, you think all it takes are the right clothes?- One of these days, he'd put it to a test at a liquor store other than the spectacularly easy going one near the bus station. -And no, dude. I would never do that to you. I'm just trying to figure out what kind of things my powers are actually good for. I mean, it's like, ooooh, I can make pictures and that's pretty crap, you know?-
Doug grimaced. If Marie-Ange hadn't up and left, he would have perhaps suggested that Artie work with her, since there seemed like a natural synergy between their powers. But that was still something of a sore subject. -Well, seems like you've got at least a few ideas,- he noted.
-And yet, I can't think of anything useful to do with them that isn't going to involve things like cheating at cards. Or monopoly.- Artie let his projection of the $20 bill go and took a moment to cover the table in a monopoly board, before making it vanish again.
-I can think of about five different ways you could fleece idiots of their money, and that's just off the top of my head.- Doug shrugged. -And with money, there's plenty of other things that you can do.-
-I suppose,- Artie said and managed to look doubtful about it all. -So, basically, you think my power is to be an awesome con artist one day? Doesn't that lead to like, jail, death and destruction? Still, could be worse. I could be stuck with the power to rot your face off.-
-Only if you get caught, son. Only if you get caught.-
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