xp_logs | Artie and Match: ID and Lizards

xp_artie posting in

A long time ago, during the floods, Artie browbeat Match into agreeing he needed ID. He's finally got time to follow up and deliver it.

Time off work meant that Artie was able to follow up on loose ends from a while ago that he hadn't had time to deal with and this was easier than dealing with Doug's bombshell. One of those was the allegedly adult (hah!) cryptid living with Sharon. He'd had to get Julio to confirm where he'd be able to catch Match and the times he was most likely to appear.

Head and shoulders still aching from the crash, Artie tapped on the wall to get his attention, before switching to his synthesiser, letting projected text hit the device's reader. "Hey, you never came to pick up your ID and stuff. Do you still want it?"

Match blinked at the text. And then he blinked a few more times as he rushed to read them, unsure. “Oh yeah, I talked to a guy about these, thanks for dropping them off.” He finally said, reaching out for the packet and nodding slightly.

Artie stared. "You talked to me?"

Match stared back, trying to place the man. “I did?”

Artie blinked at the boy in front of him. "How do you not remember ...? We moved sandbags, I explained why you need ID? Do I need to do a welfare check on you?”

“I don’t apply for welfare.” Match offered, unsure he even qualified.

"Huh? Are you a conservative?"

“I’m a Republican? I don’t even pay taxes. This is a lot to take in.” Match mumbled, much more confused than when the conversation began. He didn’t keep up with politics. He didn’t know what party he aligned with and was unsure he could even vote, come to think of it.

Artie shrugged. "You said you don't do welfare. I don't know who else starts yelling about that when I'm not even talking about getting welfare. I said a welfare check." The you idiot was only just silent. "There's some free money in claiming unemployment if the lizard game gets old, though. They endangered or anything? Endangered lizards go for a lot of money, especially if you sell them to Australians."

“I didn’t yell,” Match corrected, “and I don’t know what that is. Is that where you sit me in a room and talk about my parents, because I did that enough, I don’t like those.” Heat began to radiate off the teen, like a wave. It was like walking out of an air conditioned store into the full sun of a hot summer day.

When he finally realized the man had somehow learned about his accidental lizard business, he blinked owlishly at him. “I don’t want a lot of money, I want them to have good homes. It’s not their fault we got paid in them because Mr. Brevik was trying to not get evicted. I got enough people who are looking at them.”

"I don't care about your parents. I meant 'see if you're okay' but never mind." The heat was mildly oppressive. "Do want me to give you the details of a collector or two, or does Jones have it under control?"

“I have it under control,” Match stressed the word, heat continuing to rise as it seemed like the man wasn’t listening.

Artie grunted, disbelieving, a headache starting to appear from using his powers to make words on the synthesiser input. Sure he had it under control. "Okay. I'll send you the details of a guy I know anyway. He pays well for unusual things and he likes taxidermy. 10% extra if you handle the taxidermy for him."

Confusion turned to shock, before Match all but glared at the shorter man. Flames erupted on his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt quickly burning away before he brought up a hand to slap them out. “I want you to leave,” he spoke slowly, firmly, “and want you to leave me and my lizards alone.”

Whoops. Artie stepped back, hands raised, peacing out and left, heading back to his suite and bed. The words "come talk to me when you're ready to pick up your id" hung in the air behind him.