Teenage Wasteland: It's All Glorian's Fault

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

An unexpected and unwelcome visitor arrives at the Snow Valley offices, completely disrupting a staff meeting and generally making a giant nuisance of himself.



"You people! You people!"

For a moment more the blur of gapped teeth and red hair flailed in the doorway before resolving itself into Thomas Glorian: mildly successful con man, passable informant, and consummate invertebrate. He paused for a fraction of a second to ascertain he had indeed found an audience, then immediately resumed his babbling.

"That's it!" the short man squawked as he tried to gesture through the young woman barring his way. "That is it! Wisdom can take my guts and tie them around the old oak tree for all I care, you tell him I'm out!"

"Hey, I said I'd fucking get someone for you, not that you could waltz into the fucking meeting," Cammie returned, "Anyway, his name is at least on the contact list so I thought someone could talk to him at least."

The meeting so far had been quiet - they'd been passing the time, waiting for Remy and Nico to show with a bit of back and forth, nothing much. Glorian's abrupt appearance, however, caught everyone's attention. Amanda got up first, moving across to the informant she'd inherited from Pete. "Nice to see you too, mate," she said, dripping sarcasm. "What's with the sudden entrance and abuse? Take on a job as a insult-o-gram?"

"Hark, hark, the tart does bark," Glorian shot back. "Those dealers I was supposed ta cosey up to? Russo's guys made me. These are not nice people, Amanda. There were guns, Amanda." The short man's tone was approaching a pitch only audible to dogs. Glorian didn't care. His heart felt like it was about to pound through his chest, and he couldn't stop sweating. He hadn't felt this unhinged since his first arrest, but was inclined to attribute this to being shot at.

"Should have thought of that before you let Rosso's people get an eyeful," Amanda replied, then held up her hands placatingly. "But don't worry, we'll take care of it. I'll get you to one of our safe houses and we'll sort these pillocks out. Were you followed?"

"How long've I been been doing this, a week? 'Course not." Glorian wiped his sweating palms on his pants and realized his hands were shaking. Christ, he didn't have the nerves for this kind of thing. And his heart was still pounding, even though he'd finally reached the people who dealt with this kind of crap every day and presumably knew how to handle armed men who took a little spying far too personally. Glorian wished he could remember the warning signs of a heart attack.

"You were spotted once," she pointed out. Then she sighed. "All right, let's get you somewhere safe before you freak out entirely. Guys..." she turned to the rest of the group assembled in the conference room. "Don't have too much fun without me."

"Great, so the crazy gets to stay IN the office, that's fucking wonderful," Cammie snarked, "Wherever this 'somewhere safe' place is, it better not fucking be anywhere NEAR the front desk."

Glorian sneered at her. "Kid, unless your power is bullet-sink, you couldn't pay me enough to stay here. This is the birthplace of plans that end with my ass on the line." He could almost feel the weight of assemblage's eyes on his skin, prickling like needles. He forced his gaze back to Amanda and stuck a quivering finger under her nose. "I want someplace with deadbolts. Deadbolts and enough hooch that I forget I ever met you people."

"He's going to a safe house, Cammie, don't you worry - none of us want him here." Amanda swatted the finger away. "C'mon, James Bond, there's plenty of deadbolts where we're going. Can't guarantee the hooch, tho'." She began practically dragging him away by the elbow.

"You're right, I'm not sure there's enough booze out there to do the job." Glorian allowed the blonde to lead him out, though a great deal of expletives were stopping just short of his lips. He didn't deserve this. So what he'd used his powers to steal a few credit card numbers? He hadn't hurt anyone. But no, one barely-remembered accident with the wrong mind and now his ass was not only owned by a terrifying British man, but passed around to his colleagues like a party favor.

Fuck this power, Glorian thought as Amanda lead him downstairs and away from the meeting, I shoulda stayed with the circus.

Moments later, Nico arrived with a handful of hot coffee of diverse flavors and sorts. This was, she had told herself, the real deal, the ultimate job, the true proof she was a hard boiled detective slash assassin of justice; she could now tell how everybody wanted their latte, or if Cammie would notice she had put more sugar than usual on her drink. Truly so, it was a skill to behold in awe.

It was terribly disappointing, too, but she could imagine her life could have ended up a lot worse. She could, for example, ended up doing this for strangers. Non tipping strangers, even.

"All hail Coffee Girl~", chanted as she entered the room, her tone clearly not matching her expression. "Where's Amanda?"

"We not waiting for her." Remy said, walking in behind Nico and waving her to sit down. "Was dat Glorian dat she just frogmarched out de office? Wait, don't answer dat. 'course it was."

He picked up the first file in front of him and flipped it open. "Let's get started. Marie-Ange, just what de fuck is going on in Romania?" He said, as the meeting swung back to business.