xp_logs | Excelsior East Casino - from bad to worse.

Artie straightened his suit, placing a king of hearts motif on the lapels so that he looked like one of the Excelsior East floor staff (thank god the lighting wasn't good and it wasn't a three dimensional image, so he just had to keep track of where the projections needed to be and not worry about making it all look real) and rubbed his hands over his hair, feeling the short bristles against the palms of his hands. He'd growing it out before he'd realised that stubble was easier to hide under his projections than actual hair and had bought a number 2 razor instead. He thought about it and carefully placed an illusion of black hair over his own stubble and a second illusion on his face made him tanned and a little older, crows feet appearing at his eyes and wrinkles in the stubble on his chin. Arcade's bruises were hidden. He'd be able to hold the illusion. He had to.

He went in the staff entrance, holding out an ID badge that matched his appearance. Unlike the public face of the casino, the corridors were largely undecorated back here, in the areas around the kitchens and laundry services. Apparently the "she is bugfuck insane" parts of the casino didn't start in the areas where the waitstaff and cleaners worked.

No-one stopped him as he moved out of the service areas and into the administration wing of the casino where he ducked into a staff toilet and took a couple of deep breaths once he was safely locked into a cubicle. What if the floor staff weren't allowed back here? He dropped the projections on his suit and changed his tie from its original deep red to a soft grey while his hair turned blond and his eyes blue. He looked like an accountant. He looked like Warren and wished that he knew where the cameras were so that he could cover them with projections that made the hallways look empty.

"You over there. Halt." A burly black man appeared from behind a door, his hand firmly on a holster at his belt. "Where are you going?"

A thinner white security guard followed his compatriot out and glared at Artie, "I don't think I've seen you around here before, and I've seen everyone here," he sneered self assuredly. "Whatcha think you're doing back here then?"

"Of course you've never seen me. I work in payroll," Artie replied, signing slowly and clearly and then, at the blank look on the guard's face pulled out his phone and typed "I work in payroll. Don't harass the Deaf dude."

"A deaf dude in Payroll? I'd have heard something about that," Frank, the thin white guard said obviously confused as he turned to his partner. "You ain't hear nothin about no new deaf dude have ya?"

"No. And I am sure Maisie would have told us there was a new deaf guy around. She loves her gossip, that girl." Jack replied to his mate before her turned back to Artie. "So, again, what are you doing here?"

"Write it down. Can't read lips."

With a long-suffering sigh Jack pulled a notebook from his pocket and quickly scribbled down: You not in payroll. What are you doing here? With another long suffering look to his partner, he showed the notebook to the guy in front of him.

"Look, I am in payroll. You can have your mouth breathing thug of a friend there check," Artie signed, fast and angry, before writing "Yes. I. Am."

Frank stepped forward with his radio raised to his ear nodding thoughtfully, "Uhuh, uhuh never ever huh. Thanks Maisie." He slowly lowered his radio as a cold smile blossomed on his lips, "Well it looks payroll have never heard of a deaf kid coming to work there." He raised a hand as if to cut of any remarks Artie might throw out, "And before you say you're new, there are no records of you being hired either " He grinned at his friend, "Well Jack, looks like we got someone sneaking about where they don't belong here. What say we take him into the back and ask him some questions?" he asked with a glint in his eye.

Artie vanished behind a projection of the empty hallway at his back and ran like hell, losing the other projections covering his face and hair as he ran. Fuck Arcade. Fuck the drive. Fuck getting his legs broken. Actually, you know what? He was just plain fucked.

"Huh? Where'd he go?" Frank blinked in surprise as the kid literally just vanished in front of him. The guard gingerly waved his hand through the air in front of him. There was no-one there. Frank grunted in disgust. They'd let him escape. Mrs Dodson wouldn't be very happy. The sound of footsteps clattering down the hallway shook him. "Come on," he gestured down the hall as he broke into a run following the sound of the retreating feet.

"Yeah, yeah. I am coming." He quickly gave chase as well. It seemed as they ran through the hallways forever when they heard a crash in front of them and a shape suddenly flickered back in front of them. Jack immediately reached out and pulled him upright by his collar. "Well, well, what do we have here. One dumb ass who tripped over his own feet. And you know what we do with those dumb asses?" He shook the lad. "Frank, why don't you explain it to him?"

Frank's grin was reminiscent of a shark, a predator approaching his helpless prey. "Ding ding ding. Well Jack, our lucky winner has a wonderful prize ahead of him. He can look forward to an entire night of tender ministrations and an exclusive beauty treatment. It's a prize anyone would die to receive." Frank laughed at his own joke as he closed with Artie, "All you need to do is tell us who sent you and this nightmare will all go away."

The security guard waited a heartbeat before continuing, not even giving Artie the chance to answer. "No? That's too bad." As he spoke Frank buried his fist in Artie's gut before gesturing back down the corridor. "Let's get him back to one of the rooms back by security. No cameras there, and they lock from the outside." He leered at Artie, "I don't think we cleared up the stains after last time."

Artie doubled over gasping, body still aching from Arcade's earlier beating and the bruises on his face now visible. He wasn't going to get the drive and as a result, Arcade would kill him, if the guards here left him alive long enough for Arcade to find out that he'd failed.

Unless. Unless he gave them Arcade and hell, if he did that, then Arcade wouldn't just kill him, he'd probably torture him first, because damned if the security guards at Excelsior East would be able to take down Arcade, when the X-Men had never managed to.

No one knew he was here.

He reached for his notebook and wrote "no1 sent me. on my own. i swear".

Jack eyed the note, then ripped it from his hands and slowly tore it to pieces. "Not buying it, buddy. Looks like you need a little more... motivation then this." With a quick kick behind the knee he sent the young man in front of them to the ground, then aimed another one at his ribs, carefully regulating the force so he would not break them.

Artie curled up to try to avoid the blows and then, in a last-ditch effort to escape, he pictured the sort of flames John created and sent the image of them at the two guards' faces. He scrambled back to his feet and tried to run but the best he could manage right then was a slow shuffle. He'd wanted to be alone. No-one knew he was here and no-one was going to come for him.

Frank waved ineffectually at the flames in front of his face till he saw Artie struggling off down the hall, angrily Frank lashed out with his fist catching Artie in his shoulder and spinning him into the wall. Shaking off the remnants of the illusion Frank glared at Artie, "Oh we're gonna have some real fun with you before Mrs Dodson starts asking question,s boyo," he spat as he drew back his foot.

The last thing Artie saw was the foot descending before merciful oblivion claimed him.