Artie and Topaz, late Saturday night
Jun. 4th, 2017 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFollowing on from this offer, Topaz and Artie deal with some business.
Enter your cut contents here.">
Artie shrugged and gestured up at the building. In the heart of the DX, it had clearly been abandoned and then taken over by squatters, graffitied plywood boarding up the windows and light shining out past it.
“Target lives on third floor, back room. He’s a feeder, getting people to trust him enough that he can pass them up the chain quietly.” The text was tiny, visible only to Topaz. “I need you to tell me if he’s lying about anything. And uh, maybe project some fear of god at him.”
Topaz looked up at the decrepit old place, eyes scanning the text Artie had projected. "Can do," she said quietly. "On both counts. After you?" Artie was the muscle, after all.
He nodded and led the way upstairs, baton snapped out and held close to his leg. At the door he adjusted his face mask and glanced over at Topaz’ making sure she was similarly hidden. Good.
Fingers up – one, two, … three and he kicked in the door moving fast as he crossed the room, hauling a sleeping man out of bed onto the floor and kicking him. Hard. Twice. A pause and Artie cracked the baton down on the man’s kidneys and stepped back, sliding it away and levelling a gun on him.
"What the FUCK-?!" was all the man had time to holler before he was screaming in pain. Topaz stayed in the door - she didn't have to get close to the action to do what she was here to do. Artie had it under control. She did poke into the bloke's head and nudge at his fear, ramping it up a few notches. It would be good for him to be afraid right from the start.
“Speak for me.” Artie flashed the text at Topaz. He couldn’t give away that weakness or identifier. Shadows grew in the corners of the room, the lights outside appearing to dim. “Where is the contact point to Steve? Where do you pass on the kids?”
"Where is the contact point to Steve?" Topaz asked, deliberately twisting her accent. It was a pretty poor American drawl, but she was't an actor. "Where do you pass on the kids?"
The target replied with a “What the fuck?” Artie swung the baton again, cracking it down on his knee. “Repeat the questions.”
Topaz paused for a brief moment to push a little more fear into the man's mind before repeating, "Where is the contact point to Steve? Where do you pass on the kids?"
“I don’t know!” Artie stamped on the knee he’d just hit. There wasn’t a scream this time. Just a whimper. “I don’t know.” He moved the gun into the man’s line of sight, made a show of cocking the hammer. Paused. (“Tell him he’s out of warnings. He talks or doesn’t but we’re not leaving.”)
"No more warnings," Topaz relayed. She wasn't about to tell Artie to back off. She knew the man was lying. It was rather impressive he could still find it in himself to lie. "You talk or you don't, but we're not going anywhere."
He gave an address on the outskirts of the DX. It seemed plausible. Artie grabbed the man’s hand, ignoring the whimpers, flipping him over onto his stomach, with the arm pulled up behind him, immobilizing him and broke two of his fingers. (“Is that true? Tell him that this is so he remembers us.”)
"Yah sach hai," Topaz confirmed quietly for Artie in Hindi before quickly switching back to English. "This is so you don't forget us."
Artie nodded tightly, led the way downstairs quickly and around the corner to the car they’d parked there earlier. Not a mansion car. Conversation could wait as they drove out of the DX.
He parked the car eventually and only then did he say anything. “Thank you.”
Topaz was equally quiet, playing with the mask she'd ripped off as soon they were in the car. "Yeah, 'course," she said, looking up at last. "Always happy to help you beat the crap out of a bloke."
He gave a silent laugh, hands fisted on his thighs. “You okay?”
"Yeah." A strange response given what they had just done. Topaz raised an eyebrow at Artie, already knowing the answer to her own question. "Are you?"
His smile was brittle and overly bright as he nodded. “It was business. Nothing else. Didn’t mean anything,” Artie signed, small and fast. “Didn’t mean anything and I have the contact points confirmed.”
"Right." The incredulity was obvious. "You do remember I'm an empath, right? I mean, I can't imagine you've forgotten in the last ten minutes."
The emotions he hadn’t felt at the time were coming back. Work was like that. You felt nothing and then it was over and everything came back. “Frankenb—“ Artie stopped. Glared out the window for a moment, hands still trying to shake. Switched to text, rather than fingerspell it again. “This. Here. This freaking frankenberrycat bullshit world. It doesn’t mean anything. So. I do my job and yes. I’m okay.” He dared her to challenge the lie.
Topaz watched Artie for a moment before looking out the window again, out at the fucked up world he was talking about. "Fair enough," she said finally. He wasn't wrong.
Enter your cut contents here.">
Artie shrugged and gestured up at the building. In the heart of the DX, it had clearly been abandoned and then taken over by squatters, graffitied plywood boarding up the windows and light shining out past it.
“Target lives on third floor, back room. He’s a feeder, getting people to trust him enough that he can pass them up the chain quietly.” The text was tiny, visible only to Topaz. “I need you to tell me if he’s lying about anything. And uh, maybe project some fear of god at him.”
Topaz looked up at the decrepit old place, eyes scanning the text Artie had projected. "Can do," she said quietly. "On both counts. After you?" Artie was the muscle, after all.
He nodded and led the way upstairs, baton snapped out and held close to his leg. At the door he adjusted his face mask and glanced over at Topaz’ making sure she was similarly hidden. Good.
Fingers up – one, two, … three and he kicked in the door moving fast as he crossed the room, hauling a sleeping man out of bed onto the floor and kicking him. Hard. Twice. A pause and Artie cracked the baton down on the man’s kidneys and stepped back, sliding it away and levelling a gun on him.
"What the FUCK-?!" was all the man had time to holler before he was screaming in pain. Topaz stayed in the door - she didn't have to get close to the action to do what she was here to do. Artie had it under control. She did poke into the bloke's head and nudge at his fear, ramping it up a few notches. It would be good for him to be afraid right from the start.
“Speak for me.” Artie flashed the text at Topaz. He couldn’t give away that weakness or identifier. Shadows grew in the corners of the room, the lights outside appearing to dim. “Where is the contact point to Steve? Where do you pass on the kids?”
"Where is the contact point to Steve?" Topaz asked, deliberately twisting her accent. It was a pretty poor American drawl, but she was't an actor. "Where do you pass on the kids?"
The target replied with a “What the fuck?” Artie swung the baton again, cracking it down on his knee. “Repeat the questions.”
Topaz paused for a brief moment to push a little more fear into the man's mind before repeating, "Where is the contact point to Steve? Where do you pass on the kids?"
“I don’t know!” Artie stamped on the knee he’d just hit. There wasn’t a scream this time. Just a whimper. “I don’t know.” He moved the gun into the man’s line of sight, made a show of cocking the hammer. Paused. (“Tell him he’s out of warnings. He talks or doesn’t but we’re not leaving.”)
"No more warnings," Topaz relayed. She wasn't about to tell Artie to back off. She knew the man was lying. It was rather impressive he could still find it in himself to lie. "You talk or you don't, but we're not going anywhere."
He gave an address on the outskirts of the DX. It seemed plausible. Artie grabbed the man’s hand, ignoring the whimpers, flipping him over onto his stomach, with the arm pulled up behind him, immobilizing him and broke two of his fingers. (“Is that true? Tell him that this is so he remembers us.”)
"Yah sach hai," Topaz confirmed quietly for Artie in Hindi before quickly switching back to English. "This is so you don't forget us."
Artie nodded tightly, led the way downstairs quickly and around the corner to the car they’d parked there earlier. Not a mansion car. Conversation could wait as they drove out of the DX.
He parked the car eventually and only then did he say anything. “Thank you.”
Topaz was equally quiet, playing with the mask she'd ripped off as soon they were in the car. "Yeah, 'course," she said, looking up at last. "Always happy to help you beat the crap out of a bloke."
He gave a silent laugh, hands fisted on his thighs. “You okay?”
"Yeah." A strange response given what they had just done. Topaz raised an eyebrow at Artie, already knowing the answer to her own question. "Are you?"
His smile was brittle and overly bright as he nodded. “It was business. Nothing else. Didn’t mean anything,” Artie signed, small and fast. “Didn’t mean anything and I have the contact points confirmed.”
"Right." The incredulity was obvious. "You do remember I'm an empath, right? I mean, I can't imagine you've forgotten in the last ten minutes."
The emotions he hadn’t felt at the time were coming back. Work was like that. You felt nothing and then it was over and everything came back. “Frankenb—“ Artie stopped. Glared out the window for a moment, hands still trying to shake. Switched to text, rather than fingerspell it again. “This. Here. This freaking frankenberrycat bullshit world. It doesn’t mean anything. So. I do my job and yes. I’m okay.” He dared her to challenge the lie.
Topaz watched Artie for a moment before looking out the window again, out at the fucked up world he was talking about. "Fair enough," she said finally. He wasn't wrong.
