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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:06:19 GMT -5
[[For now, these are all the posts I've got. Doing one per message, just because of the sheer length. >___> If I manage to get the other posts, I'll probably just move everything to a new topic.]]
Bah, late would she be? Scout very wisely did not take the bait to his remarks, though she did make several remarks about his mother and just what she was once she had disapparated. She shook her head, dispelling the dizziness that seemed to come with apparations over longer distances. Hands jammed into her pockets, and Scout was off down the street, humming lightly to herself. She wasn't exactly sure where this village was...somewhere in Dorset, she could tell you. All she knew was that this was where Uncle Fred lived. And wherever Uncle Fred lived, he tended to have a back-garden shed dedicated to making gunpowder for his fireworks. And wherever he was making gunpowder, he had nitroglycerin. Highly unstable, volatile love.
She crossed the street fairly quickly, wandering through the drizzling ho-dunk village, just like little old Mytchett, looking...there. Number 9, Arbner, F stamped on the mailbox in peeling letters. She looked over at the cottage for a long moment, flicking strands of copper hair out of her face. Judging by the lack of car in the park or any of his numerous bikes, she was going to assume he was out. Good. She gently unhooked the gate and strode on through, hearing the click behind her. Her footsteps trod through a few puddles as she moved around to the side of his cottage and out into the back garden, where...yep. There, around thirty metres from his house, was the shed and then The Shed. The Shed was immaculate and crisp, as opposed to the other one, which was clearly delegated to garden shed status. It held nothing of interest for her.
She gently tracked across the stone pathway to The Shed, feeling twelve years old again, bored by lazy summer days and far too interested in her uncles pyromania than could be considered healthy. He'd taught her everything she knew. And for that, she almost felt bad for what she was about to do. But he'd missed her birthday this year, so Scout figured it was time to...compensate herself. She slipped her wand into her hand and gently inserted it into the locks, pressing her ear to the door. It was a very basic charm, but entirely necessary. Her uncle was neurotic (rightfully so), judging by the near minute it took to disarm the numerous locks and alarms he'd rigged this place with. The door opened with a gentle click, and Scout stooped to slip out of her shoes, stepping into The Shed with an air of almost reverence.
She got down to business quickly. It was a simple matter of (gently) navigating The Shed to find her uncle's stock of handily frozen Nitroglycerin in convenient vials, clearly labeled and numbered. Ah, well, she mused as she slid out her cheap earrings and placed them on the counter, it was a simple matter to transfigure the tacky studs into...replicas. Not the best, but he wouldn't properly notice until he actually needed to make up a new batch of powder. The cupboard was appropriately shut, and she had a crate on the counter full of highly explosive materials. Even frozen, she didn't know if she trusted an apparation with these... Hmm. That was a problem.
Well, she mused as she slid out of the shed, and back into her shoes, that would be a problem to face later. Right now she wanted to– "What in the hel–Scout?" Oh bugger, she mused, just as she'd finished replacing his locks, she had to have Uncle Fred there. How did he always know? Did he have a sixth sense for his supplies? Actually, that would be cool, but... "Hi Uncle Fred," she greeted, offering a gentle wave, arms still loaded with his nitroglycerin. "Fancy meeting you here." "What...what are you..." "Um. I need this." "..." She grinned hopefully at him, looking in horror at her. She'd just betrayed his trust and she almost felt bad, but...an exceedingly gentle swish of her wand and an, "Obliviate," left him standing there very confused and her quickly making her way into his house to solve her transport problem. It was at this moment that she thanked herself for being a geek as she transfigured one of his kitchen chairs into a solid glass box. She quickly began raiding his cupboards for...for...aha! Vegetable oil! She pulled it out and sliced off the top with a flick of her wand, dumping the viscous liquid into her make shift box. She didn't have much time to perfect this, but...she ran her wand along the seams of her explosives crate, gently sealing it before lowering it in and sealing her glass box. Okay, she mused as she heard the back door opening, it was time to pray she didn't die and– CRACK!
One long moment was spent standing in her flat, clutching...HAHAHA. YES. SHE HADN'T DIED. HELL YEAH! She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but that didn't matter, she had her explosives. She began rushing into her own supply closet (much meeker in comparison–stupid rent, forcing her to sell her best products), to withdraw several metres of detonator cord. Check wand in back-pocket...good, alright. Hahaha. HAHA. HAAA. This was going to be fun. [/blockquote]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:21:26 GMT -5
Arjen sighed slightly watching the rain drip down the street. The weather wasn’t improving in the slightest way. He rubbed his hands together in hopes of getting them warm. Arjen hated cold hands. He returned inside the house and looked around the apartment for gloves. There was some luck still left in his system because he found a pair of men’s gloves on the kitchen counter. He then made a sandwich. Why not?
The deli meat was very good. He was surprised and put some turkey and mustard on the white bread above the freezer. Arjen loved this job. Another free meal. He peered back in to his two lovebirds. They were both out cold and weren’t going to wake anytime soon. Arjen sighed and then went back to his post, but he stopped in his tracks when there was a rattling at the door. There was a deep voice as well. Another knock, but it was more like a punch. A man, and he was tall. Arjen could tell because the knock came two feet above the doorknob. He was taller then Arjen, but he was a muggle and Arjen knew he was much stronger. Well that would the advantage to Arjen.
‘Open up Crystal! I know your in there!’
Arjen smiled. He was going to have some fun in this. Arjen exposed his hidden blade. It wasn’t big, but it was incredibly sharp. Chances are it could even pierce a skull as thick as the muggle man outside. Arjen then put his wand down. Fists was what he knew he’d be experiencing, so he dropped the weapons. Four in all. He cracked his neck and walked over to the door. Arjen opened it and looked up at the man who towered over him. This would be a good time.
‘Can I help you sir?’ ‘Yeah! Get out here! Your with my girlfriend.’
Arjen felt his big hands grab his shoulders and fling him into the hall. The man cursed loudly. Arjen stood up. All six feet of him. He was considered tall, but this man stood about eight inches taller then Arjen. There some more cursing and then the tall man struck. He lowered his shoulder and charged like a ram. Bad move for him. Arjen smiled as he jumped up and the man went clean under him. The man turned around stunned more then anything else. Arjen pulled same move, but the force that he exuded was so much that it knocked the man on his rear end. Then came the fists.
Arjen jumped on top of him and threw a flurry of punches aimed at his big ugly face. He heard cracks around his nose and jaw. After about ten punches there was a tooth crack. When the blood became so much Arjen stood up. The man coughed out a tooth. Arjen laughed. He was to cocky. The man cursed and held up his tooth.
‘Put it in milk and find your dentist. It won’t make you any prettier I’m afraid.’
Arjen laughed and went back into the apartment and closed the door. The woman began to stir as Arjen adjusted his things back on. He sighed and put her back out and headed over to the balcony. Arjen glanced over at the clock. The sun would be setting in twenty minutes. That girl better be getting that bomb done. He sighed and pulled out a chair and watched as the damp day turned into a damp night.
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:23:36 GMT -5
"Hey Zaph," she murmured, raising her head from a mountain of pillows, curled up in bed. The Jarvey had curled up beside her and was watching her with those large, black eyes. "Oi slag." Ah, such great company. Scout grumbled and glanced at her nearby alarm clock. Nine thirty. Better head on out. Rolling out of bed, she placed her hand on Zaphod's head, scratching his ears with a loud yawn. Ah, Cap'n Butt probably wouldn't be too pleased that she'd taken a nap, but...hey. You know. 'Till eleven was a long time away. ...yeah. Okay, so maybe she'd just really wanted some sleep. Stretching, she slipped to her feet.
Her room was more closet than anything else. An old bed with a clock on the floor and her old school chest at its foot, it was sparsely decorated with the occasional moving photograph and several empty ash trays scattered around her floor. Merlin's spine but she wanted a smoke. Needed. But she doubted Cap'n Butt, which definitely suited him more than Arjen, would be too impressed with the smell it left. Even so. She really, really wanted one.
Scout spared her reflection a moments glance in a mirror as she migrated to the kitchen. Her dark hair was rumpled, and hazel eyes reddened by sleep, her shirt and who-knows-who's-boxers were definitely not going to cut it. Grumble grumble. Fine. Migrating to the bathroom to wash the taste of stale oxygen out of her mouth, she had to admit, she jumped when she heard the door. Toothbrush in mouth, she'd scrambled on through her little flat to the door, disarming the traps and locks that adorned it. "COMINGK," she managed through her tooth-paste filled mouth. What the smeg was Cap'n Butt using the door for– She looked up at a very tall, very wiry man with a blink. A very tall, very wiry, very not-Arjen man. Oh.
"'lo Hank," she'd managed through the side of her mouth. Hmm. This wasn't good. She still had her tools on the kitchen counter, and she hadn't actually ever...told him about her Auror training or subsequent transfer to the Hit Wizards. Well, damn. She was so not in the mood for an interrogation. She spit into a nearby trash can to speak properly, her brows knitting in a frown. She held the toothbrush lightly in one hand. She didn't think poking him in the eye with it would do much, but hey, at least it was better than nothing if... "Going to invite me in?" Yep. He wanted his gold. Prat. She shrugged and propped open the door for him, letting his rain-soaked robes splatter over some old copies of The Daily Prophet. Ah, the joys of being comfortable with a person. Disgusting. He tossed his robes on top of her patchwork cloak, and turned to look down at her.
At this point in her life, Scout honestly wished she'd gotten her fathers genes. Instead, she'd become her mother, slight and lithe. Good for sneaking around, but intimidation? Not so much. Ah, but if only she had her wand on her. Her toes curled and cracked themselves, and she stuck the toothbrush back in her mouth. She could spit in his eye if shit hit the fan, at least. "Been a while," he started conversationally. Scrub, scrub, scrub. "Haven't seen you around lately. Richard says you haven't been 'round the Prancin' Kelpie either. What's up? You sick?" Ah, so sweet. He was concerned! Except, not. He'd invested a lot in her, showing the ropes in how to properly smuggle and steal without getting yourself killed. Finding another impressionable youth to teach was a pain. Either that or he merely missed her biting wit. Or something like that. Scrub scrub. Swallow, pull face and– "Nah, just been busy, you know?"
Obviously, this was the wrong answer as he frowned at her, boyishly handsome face bearing a 'you serious?' expression. Guess 'busy' didn't sound very good, did it? It implied that she found something more important than paying off her debt and obligation to him. She moved to head towards the bathroom, and was only mildly irritated when he followed along after her, nearly trodding on Zaphod (and inspiring the Jarvey to start swearing in rapid...was that Cantonese?). She couldn't keep from rolling her hazel eyes to the ceiling as she rinsed out her toothbrush and he leaned in the doorjamb. Well, at least she had several sharp and pointy things in here. Rinsing off her face, she tried to gather her thoughts.
"Busy," he stated. "With what?" "Business, you know? Got a delivery tonight." The lie slipped from her chapped lips with considerable ease, and she shrugged her shoulders at him. But from the nod he offered her, at least he'd (mostly) believed it. "I'll tag along. I got a shipment in last night, going to–" "You can't come along," she'd blurted out, and cursed herself. Oh bugger, that wasn't the way to say it. Especially if that arching brow was any indication. She began fiddling in a drawer for a hair brush, slipping a razor blade in between her knuckles. She hated that expression of his, controlled rage that meant he'd kick her ass if she didn't choose her next words carefully. "I can't come along." "Look, it's stupid, but this client is really paranoid. I won't even know where he is 'till I get the owl. But he's paying a lot, nearly three hundred Galleons, mate. And if this goes well, he'll be a repeat customer." "Who is it?" Ohdamnohdamn, who would work for that, someone believable that Hank wouldn't know and... "No idea. Never met him before." She decided upon. Hank stared down at her, clearly thinking she was mad. Now that she thought about it...that sounded like a thinly veiled set-up, didn't it? Bugger. That was no good, now... "I'm coming with you." He commented, a large hand landing on her shoulder. She tensed, debating whether to get him in the wrist or in the gut, glowering. "I'm not twelve, Hank. I can take care of myself." "Whose to say it's not one of the Alighieri's, Scout? Or Ministry? You're going to go to Merlin knows where to drop off illegal explosives, just because you might get a customer?" "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she'd quipped, ducking beneath his arm to stumble into her bedroom. She was entirely unsurprised when he followed, but at least her wand was in here. Tying up her hair, she slipped over to her trunk, opening the latch with nimble toes and pushing it open. "That's just stupid, Scout," he'd muttered as he sat on her bed, glowering up at her. "That shit gets you killed." "Eh, I can think of worse ways to go." "This isn't funny!" "Look, it's great for you. I die, you can get the rest of your gold from my vault, aight?" He seemed taken aback at this, and she took the opportunity to pull a black long-sleeve sweater over her head, looking thoroughly ridiculous as she dug for her work pants, old jeans that had been stained almost black by soot and ripped by many encounters with sharp, pointy objects. Stab wounds hurt like a sonuvabitch, she mused. "This isn't about the gold, Scout–" "Bull." "Look, you work with me again, I won't care, but you're out free-lancing and taking stupid risks. You're sure as hell not ready for it." That made her angry. Pulling on her jeans, she'd risen to fix him with a glare. "Don't feed me that shit. I work with you, I see an allowance of gold and you take the rest for you. And, strangely, the numbers in my debt and in my earnings never match up. Look, I told you, I'll drop by the Blushing Mermaid whenever I can and do work for you there, but it needs to be on my timetable. You didn't honestly think I'd end up being your partner or anything, did you?"
Wrong words, she realised as soon as they slipped out, her mocking tone still heavy in the air. Scout sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, Hank, I'll–" "Next payment by tomorrow." He'd said flatly, and she looked up. That was...she calculated from her last three mixed payments, plus his stupid interest. Three hundred and fifty galleons. She didn't...! "Hank!" "Head at ten tomorrow night. You know what happens otherwise." "No, listen, you can't do that, Hank I can't pay the rent, I–" But he was walking from her room, leaving her following him stupidly, hating herself to trying to take back words for a bit of clemency, but... "See you then, Arbner." Well, crap. She'd effectively screwed herself over, hadn't she. Kicking the door, then swearing loudly (Zaphod joined in), she hopped around, snapping it shut behind her, rushing to make up for missed time. Stepping into boots as she tried to feed her whining pet was done backwards. She poured the kibble out of her boot into the bowl, grumbling, before sticking an orange sock-clad foot into it, lacing it... She glanced at a nearby clock. Ten twenty. Gah!
The rain was beginning again in earnest. Glass box and cord in her duffle, she'd disapparated to the coordinates that had been on the map. The streets were beginning to churn out people on their way to the pub, laughing beneath umbrellas. Scout peered through the rain, looking for...there, due Northwest. She set off in that direction, hands jammed into her jacket pockets, boots gently clicking along the winding pavement, rain drops landing on her long, freckled nose, plastering her hair to her face. AAH-AAH-AHH~choo!. ... ...that...was so not...cool. Pausing beneath a large apartment building to wipe her nose with a handkerchief, she'd glowered, before leaning against the wall beneath an awning to glance at her (still broken) watch. Hmm, well. She probably had about five minutes to go. Trying to ignore the craving for a smoke, Scout leaned her head back, looking up at the roof of the awning with a bored expression. Man, she mused, sniffing, even the prospect of blowing shit up, easily the best thing ever discovered ever, wasn't lifting her spirits. Stupid Hank.
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:24:39 GMT -5
The first man arrived early. He entered the warehouse at exactly nine fourty five. Arjen smiled softly. He moved silently. With one hand he picked up his cape and wand. Arjen slid the cloak over his frame and moved out of the door frame. He walked quickly, as he always did. Arjen slid into the hallway. There were two muggle having a conversation about fruit. They were older ladies. No realtion. Judging by their tone they had known eachother for quite some time, but never seemed to get along. Arjen's blue eyes looked at them. They smiled and said hello, but Arjen ignored them. Keeping his face composed as always.
He made his way to the stairwell and went down them one step at a time. His shiny white Nike's clattered down the stairs. He encountered nobody on his way down. Arjen opened the doors leading to the outside. He took two steps outside and looked at the ware hourse. Arjen flipped his hood over his head and walked slowly across the street. The man poked his head out of the door and looked directly at Arjen. Arjen let out a grin. After all he was going to end his life tonight. Arjen stood on the side walk and then slid into the ally way.
Ten minutes passed. The man was getting nervous. He came to the door every twenty seconds. Arjen watched as a man in a dark navy rain jacket appeared down the side walk. He walked right past the alley way. The man was short. He looked about five seven, and since the rain jacket didn't jet out, he probably wasn't heavy. His head was turned down, long fingers keeping his hood down against the hood. Arjen walked out of the ally quietly. He evasdropped on the conversation.
'Well do you have them?' 'Yes three. Very pretty. Good condition.' 'Excellent may I see them?' 'Of course, Of course. Come on inside we can get out of this weather.'
Arjen smiled and moved his hand down. His blade was exposed. Arjen moved across the wet side walk silently. The target held the door open for the man. Arjen seized the oppurtunity. His target rubbed his hands happily and went to go inside. He pulled the target back and shoved the blade in his back. His mouth was muffled by Arjen's hand. He dragged him inside. The target's client was looking around. Arjen dropped the body and let it lay in a heap. Then he heaved himself upwards.
'Well where are they?'
The man looked around. How irresponsible, a man trying to break a deal not respond to him. The man turned. He was gray haried and had a small mustache growing. His voice sounded elegant. Arjen knew he was at the top of society. The man moved with haste over to the body. Arjen let out a grin as the man poked him. The blood started to pool and the man looked around. He didn't turn around.
Arjen dropped from the door frame and then threw the man across the warehouse. He screamed and fell into the bars of a cell. The man arose, wand drawn. Blood dripped from his lip. Arjen laughed and drew his wand. This would be a joke. The two moved around eachother like in a western film. Arjen smiled as the man made his move. It was a hex and that Arjen quickly countered.
'Expelliarmus!'
The man was flung backwards. His wand falling outreach under some sort of crate. Arjen approached the man, who was getting up rather slowly. He lifted the old man by the back of the jacket and flung him against the cell nearest to them. Arjen dropped him and then the man cowered under him. He let out a grin. The man flung his hands up and begged forgiveness.
'Listen old man. Before I end your miserable life tell me, who else do you buy from?' 'I don't know what your talking about.' Sharp kick to the ribs. 'Do you want to live old man? Cooperate!' 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry. This is it. That man is the only dealer in London. I swear. The other is in Manchester. Please.'
The rest of the begging was spent for a good ten minutes. Arjen sighed. This man didn't deserve to live. Arjen asked him about children. When he said he had none Arjen ended his life. He jumped up on the crates and looked around the rafters. Rookies... Arjen glanced down at his wrist watch. She still had some time to get here and he had some muggles to free. Arjen went to the cell to his left.
'Everybody! Leave! When I free you run as fast as you can. Do not linger here or your life will be ended!'
Arjen listened to cheers as he hacked open the cell. Twenty muggles emerged. Arjen didn't stay for the thanks. He did the same to about twenty three and a half cells. One was slightly smaller and only held three men. Arjen looked at the warehouse. It was silent. Where in God's name was Scout! He sighed and looked around the rafters. This girl... honestly. How could his master ask to transfer her. She was lazy, tact, and had understanding of a partnership. Then again Arjen didn't understand it either. Maybe he'd it take it easy on the kid.
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:25:19 GMT -5
She was probably running late by now. The rain strummed on ever harder, beating against her as she sat on the rooftop of the warehouse over, looking down at the building scheduled for demolition. She could barely see, the water falling into her eyes. Which was going to make this rather difficult. She'd already levitated her duffel over to the appropriate roof (and had almost had a heart attack when it had nearly slipped), and was enjoying one illicit cigarette.
Well, perhaps enjoying was the wrong term. Shielding it with her hands, she'd only gotten a few good pulls before the rain had forced her to drop it to the earth below, several bone-shattering stories below. Hmm. Painful. She didn't fancy falling. She looked down at the smaller warehouse, almost reconsidering this choice of entrance.
...pft, yeah, whatever. Like a little rain would keep her from launching herself onto that rooftop. The danger was what made it worthwhile. Rising to her feet, she backed up along the flat rooftop, keeping her eyes on a flat patch next to the skylight, where her tools and only real safe landing lay. Well, she mused, readying herself. If she missed, she'd probably black out as soon as her body hit the ground. She sprang into a smooth run, hair whipping back through the rain, eyes focused, intent and–
There was something she loved about free-fall. That split second of freedom before adrenaline kicked in as gravity pulled you down, down... The impact hurt more than she expected. Rolling onto the sky-light, she lay along the glass, clutching at the edge of the hinge, digging her trainers in to a panel to keep from slipping. Huh. Aim was a bit off. Next time, try to move a little more to the right, her helpful brain chipped in. Scout winced and pulled herself to her bag and a latch for one of the small, numerous windows. Her gloved hands plucked the wand from her sleeve, gently inserting it into the latch.
"Alohamora," she murmured, feeling it click open gently. Sliding her duffel about her shoulders, she prised the window open and began to lower herself in, feet searching for purchase...She dropped to land on a sturdy rafter, extending her arms for much needed balance. Her movements were slow and careful as she lowered herself to sit on the beam. No creaking...good. A flick of her wand and the window gently creaked shut, as she flattened herself along the wood, peering down to attempt to get a good scope on the situation. Ah, Cap'n Butt! She couldn't tell his expression, but she was going to venture annoyed or discontent. He didn't exactly seem like the type of guy to laugh things off. Well, drat. She couldn't help but grin though as she released a piercing whistle, raising a hand to wave in cheerful greeting. She wore her most irritating grin. So what if he couldn't see it? It's the thought that counts!
Then she was raising herself to perch and dig through her bag, pulling out her hundred and fifty metres of cord, sliding them over a shoulder and plucking her glass box from the bag. A simple cut with her wand and the lid was off and the vegetable oil disposed of with a simple vanishing charm. Unsealing the box, her vials of explosive love glittered up at her, the shifting shadows of raindrops illuminating them beautifully. Plucking a few vials (stoppered with detonators, which had really been the only work she'd needed to do) from the case, she began her way towards the nearest corner, wand gripped between her teeth, gaze intent. Really, it was simple. She placed several charges at the corners of the rooftops, attaching them with detonator cord worked along the sides of the buildings. Corners were structural weakpoints, if she blew them out, the roof would (hopefully) come crashing straight down to crush everything below it. Like a deadly, sheet rock sandwich. Yum. Of course, the actual work wasn't quite so easy. Gently attaching her charges with sticking charms and moving along these narrow beams (and between them) was easier said than done. If she wasn't so neurotic about premature detonation, she would have just done the whole operation from the floor. But she'd blown off enough fingers and burned down enough property to know that the extra caution was certainly warranted.
Detonation cord strewn across the roof like a spiders web, she crouched on a beam, carefully drilling holes and inserting her vials of explosive, connecting the cord and arming the detonators. Twenty long minutes had passed since she'd first dropped into the complex, and she was finally...there. Grinning in satisfaction up at her work, she rolled gently to look down at the floor, before the realization that she wasn't exactly sure how to get down without breaking her legs hit. Hmm.
"Ready for blast off, Cap'n!" She called down, picking up her empty duffle bag and streaming the cord behind her, crouching and peering down at the floor. "...as soon as I can figure out how to get down, that is." [/size]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:25:53 GMT -5
A small light flickered from the far side of the warehouse. Soon the fire lit the cigarette and Arjen took a long drag. Yes, he only smoked when he killed. He knew how to fight the addiction and as Arjen took another drag his eyes skimmed around the roof. God, where was this girl? Another one out of the pack. He paced around the warehouse. Number three. He dropped his hood and took another drag. Then he heard a soft whimper. It came from one of the cells.
Arjen walked over to it slowly. The whimper was a bit louder. It was a girl. He could tell by the tone and the legenth of it. He entered the cell and looked down. There chained to the wall was a small girl. Arjen shook it off. These people were animals. She was in rags. Didn't even have a pair of socks on her feet. Her face was dirty. She probably wasn't even seven years old. It was a sin what that monster was doing to this girl.
Arjen bent over and chopped the chain with his big blade. The girl looked up at him with big hazel eyes. Arjen stared at her. He stood up and began to exit, but he wanted to see her off. The girl didn't move an inch. Arjen looked at her. She looked like a lost puppy. Then he spoke to her in the softest voice he could muster.
'Hey, go on now.' 'I... have no where to go.'
Her voice was so soft that Arjen was surprised he even heard it. He looked at her and then said it again. At least she stood up. Then she began walking. There were tears in her eyes. She looked up at him with those eyes and for the first time since Dirk died, he was genuinely touched. His heart was broken. Arjen spoke to her again. His voice still somewhat soft. It was a tone he certainly wasn't use to.
'Do you have a family?' 'No, my mother and father are gone. My brother is gone as well.'
Arjen looked down at her and then his heart broke. Her eyes were full of tears and they dripped down her face. Arjen's bright blue eyes looked at her. Then her hazel eyes went white. Her body lost all balance and she fell. Arjen quickly caught her. He picked her up in his arms. What the bloddlyhell was he going to with this girl. He couldn't dump her with Scout. He sighed and then a whistle pierced the silence that had set over the warehouse.
She was probably sitting up there with that dumb irrtating grin on her face. He was beginning to know her all to well. That made Arjen crack a grin. He couldn't help it. It was almost funny to him. Arjen looked up and tried to make out her figure making the bomb. He sighed and quickly checked the cells for any other straglers. When there were none Scout talked. Arjen began making his way to the door. He turned and called up to her.
'Hurry up. We need to talk!'
Hard to beleive, I know. [/blockquote]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:26:17 GMT -5
Scout still wasn't sure how she was getting down. Looking down to the top floor (still a good five metres down, and she didn't fancy dropping with all those explosives up there), she didn't even bother calculating her chances with dropping all the way down. She really didn't need broken legs. Really. It would just be a huge pain and she just had better things to be doing. Well, there was always magic, but it almost felt like cheating. Though, judging by the tone Cap'n Butt had taken up, maybe she could win with style just this once. With a sigh, she dropped the detonator cord down towards the floor, watching it nearly touch the ground. Good enough, she mused, and (wand in hand, duffel slung across back), she swung out, feeling...whee, freefall!
Dropping down, she'd barely managed the feather light charm before she crashed into the floor, and landed with an entirely anti-climactic 'click' as her beat up boots touched the floor. Hand touching her cord, she quirked a brow up at the Cap'n and... "You adopted?" She blinked, looking at the small child in his arms, before shooting him a 'are you smeggin' serious' look. "Have you gone mad? You're so not a children person. What with the whole huge ego and power trips and possible psychopathic tendencies." True story.
She decided to heed the cue that maybe she should cut the stupidity wise cracking as she jabbed her thumb at her cord and. "So, can I blow this place up now? Please? I've been good." ...yeah, right. Scout, not mouthing off? That's just not possible. [/blockquote]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:26:55 GMT -5
'Flatten it.'
Yes, there was no greater thrill then seeing some get flattened. It brought Arjen incredible joy and excitement. Maybe bringing this explosive expert in was a good idea. Even if it wasn't, at least he'd have fun blowing things to the ground. He looked over to Scout and wondered if they should move back. Dumb.
Arjen smiled and the two walked out of the building. The rain was dieing into a drizzle. He removed his hideous white cloak and wrapped the young girl in it. Arjen's eyes brightened up as she moved her hands. He was prepared for this. Arjen was actaully excited to see this hellhole get flattened to the ground. He looked on with great excitment and he didn't even take notice of the movement that Scout made.
All that could be heard was the deafining crack. He watched as the structure began to collapse. A cloud of dust began to form underneath the building. It formed fast and furious. Arjen nearly dropped the kid in his arms. It was amazing. There was no other words for it. For the first time in god knows how long he smiled. A smile. Arjen didn't know he was even possible of making the movement with his mouth.
'That was absoultly bloody awesome! My god kid how much did you put in that thing!'
Arjen's eyes didn't dim out. He was loving it. Every second. He listened to Scout and then he looked down. The girl took his smile away and Arjen returned to himself. He looked up at Scout. His smile diminished. He'd have to figure out what to do with this kid. He looked at Scout. Arjen knew she wouldn't take her, but he spoke to her anway.
'Hey... do you have any suggestions for this kid. Her family is gone and she has no where to go. As you said I can't take a kid in. Yes, I have what remains of a soul so I'm not leaving her in the rain to die of hypothermia.'
For the first time in a while he felt like he was unsure of what to do. Arjen had no idea what to do with this kid. He was a hitwizard and a former drug addict. This twenty three year old was in no shape to be a father. His profession didn't exactly help either. He was always out and investigating. Days at a time. Plus he had no true friends he could ask to take her in. Arjen looked down. At least she was still asleep. [/blockquote]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:28:07 GMT -5
Her grin went positively insane as she received her orders. She flicked her wand at the cord and watched it twitch about like a snake, before following the boss man out of the warehouse (mindful enough to close the door behind them), pushing him on and on until they were a good fifty metres from the place. Mainly for the view, but she didn't fancy being ripped in two by shrapnel should she had messed up. Death was so not on the agenda.
"Eximo," she breathed, her wand swishing and extending to the cord, igniting it. One long moment and– She rocked on her feet, hands in her pockets as it cracked, the roof bursting free of the walls and crashing down, down, down, flattening everything in a heap of rubble and smoke. She grinned wildly, tossing her hair over her shoulder, freckled nose scrunched up with her expression, eyes dancing. Merlin, this was what she lived for. Emotion and fire and everything blossomed within her, the sheer thrill, adrenaline rush from seeing something fall because of her hands, and she couldn't help but laugh for the joy of it, bouncing hard on her feet and whipping around to grin up at Arjen, entirely soaking in the moment of her success. "THAT'S how it's done!" She'd fired back, a veritable paragon of sass at the moment. "Four and a half kilos of nitroglycerin, hundred and fifty metres of detonator cord, and a hell of a lot of know how mate! Admit it–I am flat out AMAZING!" She laughed and found herself spinning a bit, pent up with energy. This totally made up for EVERYTHING! She didn't care that she'd be selling herself tonight to pay Hank by noon tomorrow, didn't care that she'd miss her rent because of this. She felt so gloriously alive and happy that she found that very little could kill her high. Better than Heat, best magical drug on the market, that was for sure. She squeaked in joy and found herself almost dancing in place. Until he killed her buzz with the kid. Her expression fell and she frowned, looking up at him and scuffing the muddy earth with a sneaker.
She shrugged her shoulders, thinking...no one she knew was really responsible enough for themselves, let along a little kid...she didn't exactly know anyone with a great moral code except...Ugh, she dreaded the thought. "My folks might," she offered. "At least take 'er in for a bit till summat else could be worked out." Of course, she doubted they'd be too pleased if she showed up in the middle of night and dumped the kid on them. ...sigh. [/size]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:28:45 GMT -5
'No I'll take her home. I'll give her to someone at the Ministry...'
Arjen let out a sigh and looked down at the small girl in his arms. It began to rain again and Arjen covered her head the hood. He looked up to Scout. She actually impressed him. It was surprising because he really didn't like her on his first impression. Come to think of it, he still didn't really like her. It would come in time. Arjen looked over head at the light of London. There was no stars tonight. Just rain drops. He looked back at Scout.
'Pick up your pay tomorrow. We'll get our next target tomorrow.... good job kid.'
Arjen had to throw it in. He was going to leave, but he decided to throw those words in. Arjen let out a slight grin as he nodded his head. He wished her a good night and apperated across the city to his apartment. It was a somewhat nice apartment. Certainly neater then Scout's, but it was poorly taken care of. The wallpaper was coming off and the paint peeling. However, Arjen had four huge windows that overlooked the Thames. This window was his pride and joy. Arjen laid the kid down on the couch and took a blanket and wrapped her with it. He fluffed a pillow and laid her head under it. Arjen sighed and unarmed himself placing the weapons on the kitchen table.
He rubbed his wrists as he fixed himself something to eat. Arjen decided for some chicken noodle soup. Once he finished with the soup he put the bowl in the sink. There the charm did its thing and cleaned his plate and put it back in the cabinet. How he loved magic. Arjen sighed and decided to head to bed. He changed into shorts and pair of black socks, so he was good to go tomorrow and not spending his morning searching for matching socks. Arjen sighed as he climbed into his ridiculously over sized bed. Yes, he stole it on a run with Dirk. Arjen closed his eyes.
They forced open by a noise in the kitchen. It was the door. He cursed to himself and glared over at his clock. 3 AM. Scout... what you possibly want? Arjen sighed and then heard multiple footsteps. The kid! Arjen ran to the closet and got his blade. He ran out of the room and there he came face to face with a man smaller then he was. Arjen looked at him and then did away with him. 'Accio Wand!' Arjen caught the wand and looked at the two other men. One had the sleeping kid in his arms. Arjen shot a curse, but it was skillfully deflected by the other man standing there. He growled.
The man shot a curse at him and Arjen dogded it. He shot a killing curse at the man. It found its target, but the man with the girl was gone. What could they possibly want with the daughter of a pair of muggle parents? Something didn't feel right with the girl. There something deeper. Arjen threw the bodies out of his door, but not before snapping some pictures and sending them back to the HQ. Arjen rubbed his wrists and walked back inside. He needed Scout. He looked over to the clock. 3 in the morning... this might not be a good time to go wake his partner. He sighed and walked back to a chair in his living room. There was something just not right with this picture. An seven year old girl captured. His target had associates. If he did then Arjen didn't do good work. It was something about the girl.
He'd have to wait for tomorrow. [/size]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:32:23 GMT -5
The routine was simple. Dope up, seduce, rob while unconscious, rinse and repeat. She'd learned it a couple of years ago, back when she was in, oddly enough, the same situation. Rent payments on the horizon, Hank looking to collect, too proud to borrow gold. She'd frequented the pub of the Blushing Mermaid, but had found herself as a reluctant member of the worlds oldest profession for a few nights, bringing in enough gold. Hank's influence kept it from becoming a regular thing, but then again, he'd never had any problem forcing her into these sorts of situations. She was seriously considering reevaluating her friendship with the guy here. Just a little.
Well, she mused, slipping to her feet with galleons that definitely weren't hers being dropped into her boot. The sun was due to rise soon, and she figured she should at least go home once and change. She ached and hurt, but pulling her top over her head, she glanced back at the occupied bed, lips curling in distaste. With any luck, what she'd made might tide Hank over until she could pay in full. Slipping her feet into her boots, she made sure to keep her footsteps quiet as she slipped out, keeping the stolen gold between her toes, trying to disguise the jingle. She doubted Robin would be pleased that Scout was picking her customers pockets.
"Morning, sunshine," Speak of the devil. Looking up at the wiry proprietor of the brothel, she'd grumbled, running a hand through her hair. "Hundred and twenty galleons, not bad," she'd commented as Scout approached the bar, resting her head on it with a quiet groan. "Oh, come on kid, you're not going to make big money–" "Can't. Have a job." "Ah...well, take care. By the way, Hank dropped by about an hour before you did...want me to send him 'round?" Scout raised her head at this, accepting the proffered gold and stowing it, surprise surprise, in her boot, yawning widely. Merlin, but everything hurt and she needed a hot shower. And several blankets. Smegging cold...
"Yeah. Tell him my place is free–" punctuated by a yawn. "Thanks Robin. I'll drop by when I can." The women nodded and Scout was on her way, nursing one hell of a migiraine and chills that were about to drive her mad. Coldcoldcold, get home–crack!
Home sweet home, she mused. She'd barely stepped out of her boots and poured the gold onto the table before Zaphod came bounding in, swearing up a storm and batting around some sickles in pure, utter joy. She couldn't help but smile and scratch him behind his ears. Zaphod was a good friend. She could trust him to insult her and obsess over gold and to be too disinterested in her to bother betraying her. Really, he made for a good companion, she mused as she dropped a grateful kiss on his head, before swaying her way to her shower. Warm–now.
Merlin, she mused as she passed a mirror, bloodshot eyes staring back at her, baggy and a paleness to her skin that made her look more dead than anything else. Another groan as her head throbbed and she turned on the shower, stumbling in to huddle in a corner, slender limbs curling in upon herself. She wished the world would go away for just a few minutes, let her sleep away in the steam that felt lukewarm at best, cradling her head.
The world did deign to leave her alone for at least a small while. She'd woken up with freezing water pouring down her head and Zaphod asking loudly how she expected to pay for flooding and–SHIT! But the Jarvey only snickered and bounded away, leaving her feeling very foolish in her cramped little bathtub, hair plastered to her face. Shutting off the water, she scrambled out, pulling her towels down from their shelf, curling up in them and–warm. Well, that was much better. Coming down from Heat wasn't exactly amidst her favourite experiences in the world (but Merlin was it worth it to feel fire in her veins and so wonderfully, gloriously alive, like she was a living detonation), but at least it only lasted a few hours. Most of which she had spent in blessed, blessed unconsciousness. Mmm.
"Zaphod," she'd called, voice scratchy, dripping along to her room. "Time is it?" "Time you got a watch you two knut wh–YIP!" Her foot had met the animals midriff somewhat violently as she glowered down at it, a scowl etched onto her features, freckled nose scrunched up rather childishly. "TEN, TEN–" "AGHH I'M LATE!" The rest of the morning was spent in a mild panic, hunting for decent clothing and robes, popping aspirin and where had her wand gone, not now! Come eleven, she was finishing off a note and placing it ontop of her gold pouch, two hundred and eighty seven galleons, thirteen sickles, and eight knuts contained within, offering a hasty apology, rest of the money would be in by tomorrow, xxoo, Scout. Her flat would likely be somewhat trashed by the time she got back (not that anyone would notice, she mused as she grabbed a granola bar from her rather sad looking pantry). And so she let Zaphod curl up about her neck as she scuffed her sneakers against the floor and pulled her hair up. "Wanna' come to work with me today mate?" She asked around her breakfast, grabbing her magical devices pouch and slipping it in her pocket. "Smeg!" "Good 'nuff for me," she mused, swallowed, and disapparated into that familiar, yellow hall, exactly thirty three minutes late. Ah, punctuality, you cruel mistress you.
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:32:54 GMT -5
Arjen let out a groan as he got out of the shower. There was a slash down his arm. He didn't quite know how it got there, but he was certain he had cut it last night. Arjen grabbed a longsleeved t-shirt and slipped on a pretty fresh pair of jeans. He made his way into the kitchen and got some toast from that toaster oven he bought off a crazy man. Muggles always amused him. Arjen finished his toast and got on a white pair of sneakers and headed out the door. 9:30. Arjen took beats the girl would be two hours late.
When he apparated into that hideous yellow room Arjen looked around. Empty, as always. Why did his master insist on making this room such a hideous color. Arjen shrugged and looked around the grand room. He spent a good amount of time in it and still he never liked how it felt. It was just to empty. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to lurk. Then again, that could be to protect against other hit wizards. Arjen knocked on the door twice. Any more and his master would become incredibly pestered.
'Come in, Falcon.'
It was still different being called Falcon. Dirk didn't even call him that. It was only his master, who still entrenched in the tradition of the Birds of Prey named Arjen that. He was surprised that no other assassin had taken the name. Still, Arjen would complain. Arjen slipped in silently. His master's ears perked, but his head did not. Arjen walked down the marble floor with a good amount of pace. He didn't even look at the bookshelves surronding him. Arjen loved his masters library. There was information that the Ministry didn't even know down here. Arjen stood about five feet away from his desk. Then finally the old man perked his head up.
'Well, Falcon, how did your mission go last night.' Why does ask, when he already knows? 'Very well. Complete hit and we took down their warehouse.' 'I wanted to talk to you about that.' 'Go on.' 'Listen, we are an organzation that is not supposed to be known about. The aurors are barking up my tree about this. Listen to me. Bomb what you must, that, I will agree was nessacary, but do not get out of hand. I don't want London to be a battlefield by the end of the year.' 'Yes master.' 'Here's the pay and the mission folder is now at your access. This mission may take a bit longer then the night. Our scout's had a hard time with this. Send the girl my best wishes and tell her she preformed very well last night.' 'Master, one last thing, my house was broken into last night. Three males tried to kidnap a young girl in my possession. Any word on who they are.' 'I have Duffy on that.'
Duffy. That man was dumber then a doornail. It would be quite a while before Arjen got any word about the kidnapped girl. Why did his master trust the other members of the order so highly? He and the girl were already better then Jenas and Lennon. Arjen liked Lennon, too, but Jenas... that man didn't know his left from right. Shaking himself back into reality he reached down on the desk.
Arjen happily took the two sacks of gold on the old man's table. Nothing quite like pay day. Arjen twirled the satchels in his hand and exited the room. He looked around and didn't see the girl. With a quick glance down at his watch he judged she'd be here any minute. It was ten thirty, but he knew she'd get her money. Arjen sat back in the chair he occupied while wating for the girl yesterday. He let out a sigh and he heard her come in. Arjen tossed the bag, which hit his partner in stride.
'Where are we off to eat today? Your choice.'
New day, a new start. Arjen decided that the girl had been broken in well enough. He needed to start treating her like a partner. At second glance, maybe not.
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:33:51 GMT -5
To be fair, she'd cleaned up a bit. Her eyes were still bloodshot to hell, but she'd slaved away enough to at least make herself presentable. Which was why she was mostly late. She didn't think Cap'n Butt would be too pleased at her...yeah. That was definitely something she didn't want getting out.
Technically this was still Ministry work. Scandal was such a pain, and it wasn't like she was particularly useful so she doubted anyone would cover for her. She should really be toeing the line, showing up on time and without magical swearing weasels hanging out on her shoulders. But she hated the thought of coming home to find her best friend dead or hurt, and she knew Hank, knew he'd thought it'd send a good message, so she brought Zaphod with her, to keep him safe. Affection makes a person do stupid things. Ah, well, Scout had never been very good at 'should's. Failed them miserably, instead, preferring to do the opposite and do the 'shouldn't's, just to prove that she could not be caged! Even if the 'shouldn't's were in place for a good reason because they were really smegging stupid ideas. Common sense is rather uncommon these days.
She was, in fact, entirely surprised to feel a bag of what sounded like coins hit her chest. Zaphod started swearing in French (where did he learn these languages? Certainly not from her) as she grabbed it, blinking. She looked inside, almost in disbelief. It'd been about a year since she'd ever been paid for legal work. It felt weird. Wrong. Holy crap, she'd forgotten that she was going to get paid for this. She'd been in training so long that she'd kind of lost sight of that. She pulled a beautiful, beautiful galleon out and stared at it in almost wonder, biting it...yep, real gold. Merlin's Myelinated Nerves!
"Wait, I thought I was supposed to be on probation or summat," she asked, almost suspiciously. Her 'behavioural reports' had earned her something like a month of suspended pay (but it occurred to her then that maybe the Auror's were just more rigid and petty, and suddenly, she was very appreciative that hexing her ranking officer had gotten her this transfer). Her expression brightened, then fell. "Wait, what?! You mean I...I didn't have to...?! AGHH!" She pulled at her hair in frustration, nose crinkled, almost about ready to cry. Except not, because Scout is manly. Despite being female. Shut up, a girl needs some glaring contradictions in her life. "I COULD HAVE GOTTEN SLEEP!" What a drag! Even his mention of her choice for food (om nom nom!) didn't cheer her up. She needed a proper sulk. Irony! IRONY. WHYYYYYY. YOU CRUEL CRUEL WANTON SCARLET WOMAN YOOOOOOOU! "Blah," she managed, ignoring Zaphod's snicker and scuffing her shoe, depositing gold in her purse in an inner pocket of her cloak and stuffing her hands into her pockets. Sulk, mope, pout. So not intimidating or composed or cool or anything that was probably expected of her rank. =( Scout wanted to sleep and eat chocolate ice cream to make up for this. "I just don't care anymore. Nothing matters. My life has no meaning, it's an empty void of nothingness and sorrow. Wait, sorrow means it's not nothing. ...nix that then, my life's meaning is MISERY. MISERY!"
Oh shut up you drama queen. She paused in her angsting and looked up to an expectant, likely irritated face. She pulled a face at him, scrunching up her nose as she stuck out her tongue. "Still thy tongue, Cap'n! TO THE HOGS HEAD!"
Scout needs a drink. =[ Just one. A small one. ...promise!
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:34:22 GMT -5
Arjen shook his head. What else was he suppose to do? The girl was being herself. At least Arjen had the fourth of a heart to offer her choice a meal. Arjen rolled his eyes as she continued on. Well they had a good amount of cheeriness among them. Arjen hoped the mission was good. He was tired of getting crap and he thought the master trusted this girl. Arjen sat back in his chair as she droned on. Then his ears perked up.
'You have got to be kidding me.'
He hated that dump. More then anything. The only fond memories he had of that bar was starting fights with the drunkards down there. He and his friends would beat them silly. Arjen shook his head. The bartender wouldn't be happy to see his face back there. Arjen thought it over. The bar wasn't exactly the ideal spot to go, but hey if it was the brat wanted he would give it to her. Arjen stood up and looked at her.
'Jesus, you look like a mess. What on Earth were you doing last night... on second thought. We'll keep it to ourselves.'
He didn't know this girl well enough to ask. Arjen already had an idea of where she was, but wouldn't say anything. He could only smell it. Arjen's eyes looked around at the room and then Duffy came in. What a goon. The thirty year old train wreck of an assassin was shorter then Arjen was. He was twice as wide. Arjen knew that the man was best spy in London. He knew that this man could find anything out. The man had the memory of a computer. It was gross, but Arjen was definatly jealous.
'Arjen! God man, how long has it been?' 'A while.'
Duffy was a cheery person. Always was and probably always will be. He looked at the girl to his right and Arjen decided to go through introductions. God he wished everyone just knew eachother. He hated introductions. Once Duffy and Scout were acquanited Arjen looked at the fat man and sighed. He was attempting to chat up a storm with Scout. Arjen cleared his throat and he turned his head.
'Give me what I need, Duffy. My partner will not sleep with you.' Arjen... you have no soul. 'Well Arjen your two men are wizards. Hogwarts graduates. One, Ben Alwick, was the man you killed with the sword. He works in Hogsmeade with our second man, Ryan Babel. They also do work with a third man, Paul Rodgers... here's the picture. The three started up a shop selling crap. No records of crime. I couldn't fish out any adresses.'
He'd love to ask what kind of crap, but Duffy would spend another hour. Arjen took a look at the man trying to recall last night. He didn't recongise the face, but he was sure it would be that man. Arjen nodded. At least they would pay the shop a visit. Before his partner could pout or go off on one of her temper tantrums like a four year old, Arjen looked at her. Duffy said his good bye. Arjen shook his head. He didn't tell her about the girl.
'The girl I found last night, she was kidnapped. Killed two of the three. Of course the third got the girl. That can be for another time. As for now. It's off to the Hog Head. I still can't beleive I offer you anywhere in the world and you choose that dump.'
God this girl was frustrating. [/size]
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Post by Ed Taco on Jan 10, 2008 23:35:12 GMT -5
Scout was pleased for the arrival of another to avoid his question, shrugging her shoulders noncommittedly, hands already back in her pockets and her pent up energy beginning to even out. Her lips quirked up in amusement at the sight of the man, and she'd gone through the obligatory handshake and 'hullo, nice to meetchya' with a brow arched and...
She'd blinked rather stupidly at how talkative he was, and had appropriately 'urked' when her ever so classy partner had interjected in, shooting him a glower, almost wishing for robes. At least she could have properly driven her heel into his toe for that or something. She contented herself with simply listening in, rocking on her feet idly, though Zaphod had perched on her shoulder to get a better vantage point (or maybe to stare with his beady little eyes at Duffy's glittering watch, Scout could never tell with the greedy Jarvey). It really was rather nice though.
One day, she mused, she'd be fabulously wealthy, with gits like Hank and Arjen in her debt, reduced to fetching her newspaper and fluffing her pillows, guard dogs that were handy around the house. She'd live in a mansion with a thousand rooms, each ostentatiously outfitted in gold, silver, platinum, adorned with precious gems! Not to mention, what with being so outrageously rich, she could make all the bombs she wanted and just be slapped on the wrist for being an 'eccentric'. Ohohohoho~~
Snapped out of her completely unfeasible, but undeniably attractive day dream, she'd offered the strange, but rather amusing man a wave and a 'see you 'round, nice meeting you~', charming and pleasant, and completely acting her age. She was collected, composed, cool, for that one brief moment. She mostly did it to spite Cap'n, for when the man was gone, she immediately slouched and shot him a dark, 'I am going to hex your face off, buster' look, which was strangely articulate for a mere expression alone. She'd listened in disinterest at the mention of the girl–honestly, Scout couldn't bring herself to care, until the realisation struck that it was a seven year old muggle who shouldn't be all that important, and her insatiable need to know dug in. Her eyes lit up in curiousity and she even ignored the slight to her favourite pub, scrunching up her nose in thought as she rocked on her feet, Zaphod's claws in her shoulders as his nose poked around her ear, thinking, thinking... This was definitely going to drive her nuts until she figured it out, before snapping out of her thoughts. She looked up, arched her brow and rolled her eyes.
"Fine, Cap'n, you choose the high-brow establishment we'll be patroning today," she snipped back, sounding horrifyingly prim and proper, before, "Just don't let them cut off my head when I humiliate you by using the wrong fork." Cheshire grin. You know you love it. [/size]
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