Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Jan 25, 2008 11:46:37 GMT -5
((Yeah this post is pretty lame... but its just so fucking long.))
Arjen took a long drag of his cigarette before looking out to mansion. There was a big explosion and Arjen watched on with awe. He never understood what it was about explosions that pleasured him so much. It was amazing to see the lights and the sound. Not to mention the house blow to shreds. Arjen sighed and took a drag from the cigarette he was smoking and then flicked it on to the sidewalk. With the bottom of his shoe he put it out. Then watched for the girl. Where was the bitch? He laughed at the thought of her getting hit by her own explosion. That would make his day.
Unfortunately she emerged from the explosion. Right away Arjen knew she was pissed off. Probably for some dumb bitch reason she had. Probably she worked with a scumbag he would inevitably kill. Arjen shook his head and looked at her as she cursed at him. He looked at her and saw some of her injuries and let out a laugh. One of those cruel laughs he possessed.
‘At least I was smart enough not to get myself hurt. Oh don’t use magic, don’t use magic. Well you were the who got hit!’
Arjen laughed again in that cruel manor. He watched her carefully and then looked at her. They were bound to leave on angry terms, but that was expected. Maybe one day they’d become friends, but Arjen highly doubted it. He was too much of an ass and she was an egotistical bitch. Arjen sighed and looked over to her. He might as well tell her to pick up her gold and the information he found out about their target. Arjen shook his head when he saw her watch. It was obviously a man’s watch and was much better quality then she could afford.
‘Before you leave, pick up your gold at the Ministry. By the way I think this asshole had some kind of connection to Babel and your smuggler bitch that you used to work with. We’re going to the docks to hopefully bust some kind of deal. I hope you come with me because if I see you down there tomorrow night. I’ll kill you. Go clean yourself up.’
No smile, no facial expression. Just a middle finger to her response and then he apperated back to his apartment. He unlocked his doors and stepped back into his apartment. Arjen felt like getting completely shit faced and maybe sleeping with some pretty girl he’d pick up down at the pub. Plus the Arsenal game was on. He slipped into another pair of jeans and an maroon sweatshirt with the logo on the front and then he climbed to the foot of the steps and headed out into the pub.
It was a big place the West Side pub, but Arjen was known to sit at the bar and go shot for shot with people three times his size. Arjen was a heavy weight drinker and had a tab at three places, which he never paid (Hey if they want him they can come and get him). He loved picking fights as well, he’s known to get a little rowdy when he’s shit faced so people know to stay away. Arjen entered the pub by himself and walked into the center of the pub to an empty seat at the bar. The bartender instantly got up and went down to Arjen.
‘What’s the score Jim?’ ‘1-0 Arsenal. 43 minutes in.’ ‘Excellent, get me some of that Mexican shit.’ ‘Tequila?’ ‘Yeah, I’ll have two shots of that to start me off.’
Down the hatch and then Arjen looked around at any kind of pretty girl to get with. He sighed as none showed up. London was getting more and more ugly by the day, but Arjen decided the more he’d drink the prettier they’d become so two shots turned into ten. Five beers to add on and another two shots of the new Russian vodka. Arsenal wound up winning that game, but it was too blurry to make out the score. His eyes searched around and he found a small brunette by herself in the corner. She looked like she was waiting for somebody or just nervous. So Arjen decided to put some of those moves he had on her.
‘What are you a Tottenham fan? Your over here all alone.’ A laugh signaled go on. ‘I’m Arjen Robben and you might be?’ ‘Call me Jill.’ ‘Alright, Jill… do you want to get a drink?’ ‘Absolutely.’
Arjen returned to the bar and cleared a seat for his newfound friend and the two struck up a conversation about drinking. She had a bit of a hard streak herself. This girl got five shots of vodka and was begging for more. Arjen denied because even in his drunken state he knew there would be hell to pay tomorrow.
‘So Jill, what’s your last name if you don’t mind me asking?’ ‘Babel.’
Arjen stepped back and felt something come up into his side. It was a wand. Of all the fucking luck! Arjen looked around and the girl muttered something, but Arjen didn’t catch it. It wasn’t the name of a spell, but it was something to get him scared. Arjen sighed and knew what he had to do. He punched hard in the face as she was about to mutter the spell to kill him and her wand flew out of her hand. Blood spewed from her nose and Arjen picked the wand up.
'Stupefy!'
The red light hit her hard in the stomach and she fell back to the clean hardwood floor out like a light. Arjen cursed loudly as the muggles looked at him. He quickly erased their memories and dragged the girl out of the pub. This was starting to get annoying. Who the fuck was this faggot Babel? How come everywhere he went Babel’s fucking name came up. He dragged her up the stairs and threw her into the apartment. Arjen did conveniently have ropes in his closet. She bound her hands and feet just as she was stirring.
‘What the fuck am I doing here!’ ‘You pulled a fucking wand on me you bitch! So yeah I knocked your ass out and dragged you to my apartment. Your lucky I didn’t kill you.’ ‘What the fuck do you want with me?’ ‘Well… who the fuck is Babel and what the fuck does he want with me?’
She fainted before she gave an answer. Arjen cursed and shook her. Out like a light. Why did all the woman he meet were so messed up. Arjen cursed and went to bed. He was shit faced after all and needed some sleep. Arjen might have to deal with that bitch of a partner tomorrow so he got to bed and let darkness sweep over him.
|
|
|
Post by Ed Taco on Jan 27, 2008 0:20:53 GMT -5
[[Hahaaaa, it's all good!! Sorry for the delay. I may or may not have passed out last night and wasted all day reading Calvin and Hobbes. ...SQUEEEEEEEE. I love me some Bill Watterson.]]
Scout had barely taken the time to listen to him, hand half way to her wand (or maybe the knife, she was too angry to tell) by the time he'd apparated. Well, fuck him. This eye needed to be tended to before it got infected and, really, there were better things to do with her life than to be sitting around, pissed off at a little bitch like him. Don't ruin things yet, kill him after Hank, but before you skip town. Yeah yeah, whatever. It didn't mean she couldn't indulge in violent thoughts as she apparated into her little flat, tossing her new watch to distract her little ferrety-shaped friend, flicking on a light and meandering to her kitchen, where a modest little first aid kit was pulled out, and she perched at her counter, setting up a small mirror as she cleaned off her face. It had bled a lot, and...yep. It was going to need stitches.
Great. Now dad was going to have a mild freak out tomorrow at their Sunday lunch and Atticus was going to be all 'protective big brother'y and mum was going to shake her head disapprovingly. Uncle Fred would be pretty impressed though. Scars are cool, and all that shit. Except, not when you're a twenty year old female who has the sneaking suspicion that one day, she's going to get incredibly self-conscious about herself and realise that scars don't help you get the rich gentleman, but get you stuck with creeps of the same moral calibre as yourself. Well, bugger. One day, she'd care and go get cosmetic magic done or something. Till then...she set to sterilizing her needle and taking a swig of scotch, before gently pinching her skin together and beginning the arduous, painful, task of stitching her face up, each knot small and precise. By the end of the week, she'd just have a faint, fleshy line that could probably be concealed with a good foundation and some time in the morning. For being as boyish as a girl could get, Scout had to admit, she could be pretty vain at times. Usually when she needed to use her vaguely pretty looks to get something, though, truthfully, her legs did a better job on that than her generic face.
Several pots of tea and a few angsty hours of looking at that stupid photograph later, and the sun had started to rise. Not that she could really tell, with how she'd boarded up her windows, but the faint streams of sunlight did alert her. Wired, emotionally unstable (and currently on the chipper side of things, but ready to lash out at the slightest provocation, being female as we are), she figured this was the worst time possible to surface into the real world. So, of course, she showered, pulled her hair back, slipped into whatever khaki skirt was in her closet and a generic Weird Sisters tank, and those faithful combat boots, did her best to conceal the patchwork of scars and burns across her skin, and went off to collect payment. This early in the morning, no one would expect her to be in, she wouldn't have to deal with the Asshat, and she could go get food, and maybe enough time would have passed for her to drop by her folks and forget this stupid life.
There was nothing quite as cheering as realising that, in a few short hours, her mother would be cooking yummy food for her, she could be teaching her brother's kids how to best get away with their numerous crimes, hanging out with her Uncle, and pretending like she was just some muggle girl with too many freckles and without all the drama.
Mmm, pretend. Tasty. With that, she'd pocketed the photograph, set out the wilting salad for Zaphod and reclaimed the rather nice wrist watch (poking it with her wand to better fit it on her wrist), ready to go! Wait, who the hell did she collect her gold from?
...GOD DAMN IT!
|
|
Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Jan 27, 2008 2:13:00 GMT -5
((I use the word fuck to fucking much in this reply... don't know why.))
Fuck. It was the only word that came to Arjen’s brain as he woke up the next morning. He felt like shit. Too much to drink, goddamn it one day he’ll learn. One day he’ll stop being an asshole, put away grudges and do community service. It was a shame that day will never come. Arjen shook his head and lifted the covers from his bed. Fucking light. He covered his eyes as he walked to the bathroom. After a good couple minutes of throwing his inside out, he lifted his head. What the fuck was he thinking! He had to go into the fucking Ministry today too.
After slipping the hot water on, he climbed into the shower. The water was somewhat soothing, but had a nasty cut going down his chest. God he wished he remembered where he got that. It was a pretty shallow slash. He shook his head and exited the shower. Drying himself off he looked his face in the mirror at least that was clean. Arjen sighed and went back into his bedroom and got changed into a pair of jeans and nice white zip-up sweatshirt. He sighed and fit on a pair of white shoes and walked into the next room. That bitch. Babel’s sister was passed out on his couch and then Arjen vaguely recalled hauling her ass back here. She was still laying down and Arjen didn’t care for her anymore.
He walked over to her and then she shot awake. Arjen was a bit startled, but didn’t move. He looked at her sideways and wondered why she was at his house. Or what his reasoning was for bringing her back here. He walked over to the armchair that faced the couch. Arjen sat down at it and looked at her and she hissed at him. He let out a laugh. Who did she think she was? He was hoping she was one of those cat people for making a sound like that.
‘Alright, I’m pretty sure you passed out last night before you could answer my question. What the fuck does Babel want with me?’ ‘He wants nothing from you besides your death. Ryan works for someone much more powerful then you or your dumb fucking Ministry.’ ‘Mind telling me who.’ ‘Never.’ ‘Good. It will cost your life.’ ‘What?’
Arjen didn’t even give a shit who he worked for. Probably some fucking prick who wants to be a bad ass. Like that fucking bitch or partner of his. Walking around like she is the fucking shit. Arjen could crush her and little fucking posse with a flick of his hand. Arjen sighed and dragged the girl out his balcony. She kicked and screamed, but he didn’t give a fuck. He was stronger then she was, even hung over. Arjen pushed her up against the railing and he whispered in her ear.
‘Hey I won’t keep your brother well. Once I kill him send him my wishes. I don’t know what kind of afterlife you believe in, but I’m sending him piece by piece.’
And over the side she went. Toppling five stories and dropping with a deafening crack. Arjen shook his head. Dumb bitch. He felt bad for the muggles who would have to clean her up. Arjen sighed and walked over to his refrigerator and fixed himself a bagel with some butter. He looked over his watch and then apperated into that disgusting yellow room. It reminded him of vomit right now. He sighed and knocked twice on his master’s office door.
Arjen entered at the sound of his master’s voice. He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. The old man wasn’t sitting at his desk today. Arjen found him in the third row of his books looking around the bookshelves for something. He slipped into the shelf and stood over the man. Arjen looked at the book titles, but none interested him. They seemed to be muggle titles and Arjen didn’t care much for their work. He looked down to his master as he found the book he was looking for. The old man opened it too quickly for Arjen to catch the title.
‘Come Falcon we have much to talk about.’
Arjen nodded and followed the old man out of the isle of books. He was rather slow at his age. Arjen put money that the man he called master was in his late nineties. He had been around for too long and he’s been running the birds of prey for too long now. Arjen wondered who would replace him if he died. One thing was for certain, it would not be Arjen and it would not be Scout. Arjen stood at the head of the old wooden desk and looked as the old man reached for two bags of gold. Great, Scout would be coming.
‘Well there is your pay, but we have some pressing matters we need to deal with. First off, very well done last night. You and partner worked very well and there seemed to be no problem what so ever. Even the Prophet was unsure of the culprit. Alright… your case file is ready for you. It took eight men to prepare this. Arjen you haven’t dealt with a case since Dirk died.’ ‘So why am I getting it. I’m working with a rookie who can’t even keep herself from getting herself fucked up.’ ‘Song and Hleb turned it down. Arjen this is the real deal. The pay is out of this world. I’m pretty sure this will be the third highest pay off in the history of the Birds of Prey. The case file is accessable and I do believe you and your partner can handle this. Give the girl the god damn credit she deserves. Well I should see you in the near future. If not best of luck to you in what ever afterlife you pass through.’
Arjen nodded and took his and the girls gold and walked out of the door. About fucking time they got a case that was worth fighting for. Arjen was absolutely pumped. He didn’t know when the last time he was this excited was. Arjen opened and closed the door leading back into the main room. His hangover was no longer present and Arjen was ready to deal with that bitch of a partner. He leaned back in the chair and threw his gold in the air, listening to the jingle in the bag. Arjen looked out to the door way wondering when she’d get here. If she got here.
|
|
|
Post by Ed Taco on Jan 27, 2008 17:25:00 GMT -5
[[Short, crappy post. I need to get back to painting >_<]] It was amazing just how many more people were helpful when you showed skin. Assistance grew exponentially as hem length grew shorter, and usually had a boost when you made sure to wear a vapid little smile and flirt with whoever was pointing you in the right direction. Demeaning? Probably. But the ego boost and the whole 'not getting lost in this confusing as hell office complex' made up for it. Honestly, she'd been in mazes better designed than this place. Oh well. Smiling and touching the arm of whoever had taken the time to point her in the right direction, Scout had quickly stepped off, thermos of coffee in hand, eyes bright as she ducked into a side hall and...ah, there was the little yellow room.
She would have apparated, but the guys in Magical Games and Sports made the best coffee, and anti-apparation jinxes had recently been set up around the ministry. So she'd taken the elevator (which had asked her if she was crazy, returning to the Hit Wizards offices as she was) and had proceeded to get lost before directions and mildly entertaining lines had been tried. Oh the power of legs. But, to be fair, they were a really rather nice pair. Spending your youth playing Quidditch and running from cops and fellow crooks alike will do that for a girl.
The familiar door clicked closed behind her and, once again, she examined the particular shade of yellow they had painted the walls with. Sort of a lemon yellow plus maybe a touch of titanium white and olive green to dull it down. Or was it forrest green? Whatever. It had an interesting effect, and then she seemed to take in account that maybe it wasn't as early as she thought, because Asshat was sitting there, looking cranky as usual. Scout took a sip of coffee, and quirked her non-cut-up brow at him, tilting her head in the manner of a songbird, examining him intently.
Well, someone had been out drinking. And killing, if the annoying, smug air was what she thought it was, even hidden beneath all those layers of loathing as it was. Great. Another sip of coffee, and she leaned against a wall, ever careful to stay light on her feet so as to beat a hasty exit should he get violent. She fully intended to push every last one of his buttons, every day, until the glorious day of revenge. It'd make it all the sweeter.
"Morning," she'd greeted, raising her drink in acknowledgment, off hand stuffed in a pocket. She crossed her legs at the ankles, balancing on the heels of her worn combat boots. The cold metal of an old switchblade pressed against her calf. Another sip of coffee.
"So what tom-foolery and wacky hijinks shall we get up to today, oh Captain my Captain?"
That's right. We're quoting muggle poetry at you.
|
|
Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Jan 27, 2008 21:48:13 GMT -5
((Holy shit, this is sooo bad... just couldn't write today. My god Arjen is becoming more and more fucked up as this goes along. He's turning out much different then I imagined. However, it makes for a very intresting character. I just wanted to tell you that this is the fucked up part of my mind... should have posted this message a post ago, but what ever.))
Arjen let out a sigh as he heard the door open. The girl entered with a cup of coffee. Oh the pleasure it would bring him to toss the gold to her and watch the coffee spill everywhere. Arjen would readily enjoy that. He sat back in the chair and watched her come over towards him. They sat there for a couple seconds silence over them. He couldn’t believe that they were partners. She said good morning and he gave out a half nod. Arjen’s bright eyes scanned the disgusting room and then listened to his partner’s useless and incredibly annoying talk. In all honesty it made no sense at first.
‘Well we’ve got a big case. This is the big pay dirt. Not sure of the exacts, its in the case file. Speaking of gold.’
He threw the heavy satchel along the polished floor and then looked up to her. Arjen toyed with the knives on his waist and looked up to her. He let out a sigh. The hit couldn’t be made tonight. Arjen had something to take care of. He really hoped that his partner wasn’t there. Taking her life would be more difficult then the other lives he’s recently taken. At least she didn’t know how he operated. They stayed out of each other’s way. Arjen knew that he could kill any auror the Ministry could throw at him. An auror drop out would be more of a joke then anything else.
He let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair before standing up and looking at her. The thought of the payday hitting gave him some good pleasure. He looked at her for a second. Arjen wondered if he should tell her about what happened last night. He kicked the toe of his white Reebok into the ground and looked over to her. Arjen didn’t know what was happening, but he was feeling a little lighter. Probably the hangover, but what the hell.
‘Do you know a Jill Babel… before you ask why, the bitch pulled a wand at me on at a muggle pub. I killed her.’
Arjen thought about her body laying there and the pool of blood that formed beneath her. He didn’t see the body up close, but he was sure she had broken her face. He sat back down and then wondered why he even bothered asking her questions. Well she was a low life and knew a lot of people that would want Arjen dead. Then again Scout was a girl that wanted him dead, too so he doubted a clean answer. He opted to shift the conversation to where they would catch daily lunch.
‘Well is there anywhere you might want to eat. I’ve got a bitch of a hangover and quite frankly I’m not going back to Hogsmeade.’
He looked at her and quirked an eyebrow, before standing back up. Then he stretched out his long arms and looked around the room once more. He never understood why it was circular, but it seemed fitting. It was the paint that had always annoyed him. It was the yellow, it had just been painted because when Arjen left it was white. He had never asked the master why it was yellow, but he quite frankly didn’t care. He thought about it because he had a funny feeling that she wouldn’t be able to make up her mind.
|
|
|
Post by Ed Taco on Jan 28, 2008 0:54:12 GMT -5
[[It's all good =3 Mentally stable characters aren't half as interesting. XD]]
Scout smiled lightly, one of her favourite expressions. It was terribly easy to conceal her hate behind a facade of pleasantness, spitting out barbs that were painted over with light teasing, guising the acid within. She'd perfected the act years ago, and it was surprisingly easy to slip back into. Controlling her emotions was the hard part, but, well, he was an idiot, so she wasn't too worried on that front.
"Well, that's odd," she remarked lightly, arching a brow. "From the way you were bitching, I'd have thought something like this would be months away." So her suspicions were right...it looked as though a war was starting in the underground...damn it, she hated it when her suspicions were correct. Well, when they were bad-for-her-health-and-involving-pointed-death suspicions, anyways. Now she wouldn't mind some good-for-her-wallet suspicions...
The gold pouch slid towards her feet and she looked down at it for a long moment, before stepping forward and deftly picking it up, slipping it into her left boot, shifting her foot until it lodged into place, cushioning her ankle, heavy, solid. She couldn't feel any of the usual traps or jinxes on it, though she hooked her thumb next to the pocket on her skirt that held her wand. Just in case there needed to be any emergency face-exploding in retaliation or something.
He mentioned 'Jill Babel', and she thought back. It was familiar. Not from him, but some time in the past, and– Of course. She'd met her through Hank, it was how she'd gotten into Heat, after delivering it to her from a good deal. The woman had the income to support her habit and a few, choice others. Hank had told her she'd come from a line of purists, and Scout had always made sure to still her tongue about her own heritage around the older woman. But she only rolled her eyes for Arjen now.
"Congratulations, you killed an old customer of mine to satiate your never ending bloodlust, I'm so impressed," was all she offered, shaking her head, keeping every ounce of her body language as indifferent, relaxed. Really, she was more or less annoyed. Even Hank hadn't been so...but if he'd had the Ministries blind eye, perhaps he would be. Still...some part of her that hadn't been destroyed by sin and vice was still disgusted. Some part of her was human enough to feel empathy. She crushed it mercilessly.
"Well, if you're so picky, you choose. I'd suggest the Leaky Cauldron, and that's only because it's on the way for me, and you'll inevitably have a problem with it, so..." This better be quick, she mused. She still needed to swing by Knockturn, get the supplies she needed, maybe some groceries in Diagon, stop off at home, and go enjoy a good meal and tea with her folks. Somehow, she knew that keeping her clothing free of blood for her mum would be the only reason she wouldn't end up throttling Asshat here.
|
|
Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Jan 28, 2008 22:15:29 GMT -5
((God I'm getting pumped for this. I'm going to add a few plot twists soon. =D Love those things.))
Arjen watched her with a certain interest and could see right through her hallow attempts of hiding what she felt. She needed to understand she was young and Arjen looked at people and killed them for a living. Only the most hardened veterans of this job could hide their feelings from him. She was not one of those. He kept on his annoyed face, which was usually on being Scout was in his presence. She would never be of any help. It was beyond him why he even kept her around. A sigh came from the hit wizard and he thought about that shit hole. It was on the way for Arjen as well. He needed to pay an old friend a visit and get a little more information on what was going down tonight at the docks.
‘Yeah, we’ll head to that shit hole. All I need is a place where I can give you the case file and get something to eat.’
It was a ritual for Arjen. If it wasn’t they’d do it right here. Arjen and Dirk got breakfast and talked about the case files every single time they got a new one. He hadn’t had a conversation that was genuine since he’d met this girl. Arjen didn’t really care though. He stood up and whether she was ready or not they were apperating to Charring Cross Road. Arjen casually grabbed her arm and they were off.
As soon as they touched the ground he pulled his hand away and walked across the busy street to where the Leaky Cauldron was. He moved in a light jog going past the muggle vehicles and then the two slid into the old pub. There were of course the regulars who eyed the two in an odd fashion. The two were still rather young compared to the old timers who inhabited this pub. Arjen chose a table in the corner and he put a mute charm and then as she sat down he snapped his fingers.
Into his hands appeared a rather thick case file. She’d love this. Arjen passed it across the table and sat back in his seat and waived away the man, who he was sure to take their orders for food or drink. They wouldn’t eat anything just yet. He needed to discuss this hit first. Then she was free to leave. It was that simple. Arjen glanced at her when she opened the file and began to read it.
‘Well meet the Minister of the Russian Ministry of Magic. Vladimir Starkov. Before I go into this let me tell you the payday we get for killing this bastard. 500,000 Galleons. Third highest pay day in the Ministries history… well into the depths. The Ministry has wanted this man dead a long time. He is hated by the people of the countries that he rules. Keep in mind Russia rules over all of those “stan” countries and Mongolia I believe. No body has the balls to kill this man. He is a powerful wizard whose madness knows no ends. The Ministry has already set up the RMM with a ruler after this bastard drops dead. We were sent to kill him because the other team turned it down saying it would fit me much better. The man should hard to find, but the Ministry is stalling him in London for the next two days. I doubt we’ll nab him tonight, so tomorrow we can kill him. I’m not sure how well it will work out, but I’m almost positive he’s staying at the Russian Embassy in Southern London. We need a good distraction, which happens to be your expertise. I expect a god like bomb to get Starkov and his men occupied. There’s no way I can duel this man so I’ll have to kill him with a knife…’
The other plans would be up to him. He needed a lot of preparation for this hit. This would be unlike anything he or the girl would see. He needed to stay alive tonight at the docks. This payday would get him a new house. He couldn’t help but grin at the payday. Arjen wondered how big the satchel would be. He let out a nod as she looked at the picture of the man. Arjen let down the charm and the two got their orders taken. Yeah, he would have whiskey at 11 in the morning.
‘What do you think?’
After the drink she would be free to go and Arjen would have to take Knocturn Alley by storm. He hated it back there. They were all scumbags that deserved to know the end of his blade. He wanted to kill everyone back there, except for one person. One person kept Knocturn Alley alive. Oh Andrey Perov, you Ukrainian devil. You would always be a lifesaver. Arjen had to pay the Ukrainian a visit. After the whiskey went down his throat he looked at the girl and took in what she said. He nodded and leaned back in your chair.
‘Enjoy your day keep one thing in mind. Either meet me at the docks at seven or stay away… tell your friends to do so as well. I want blood.’
|
|
|
Post by Ed Taco on Jan 31, 2008 0:20:56 GMT -5
[[Writers block is a bitch~~!!]]
Mmm, food, her brain supplied intelligently. She couldn't remember her last proper meal, and it was beginning to affect her thinking. Things were looking like food. Tasty, fulfilling, all that jazz. The prospect of breakfast was more than enough to keep her from ripping her arm out of his grasp and risk splinching. She did however step away quickly and move on towards the pub, not trusting him with her back (and keeping her hand away from her wand with admirable strength of will).
She gently slipped into the pub with an eye darting over the whole place, noting escapes, potentially useful objects for defence, and so forth, mentally determining where the gold would be kept and so forth. Old habits die hard, and Scout had no intention of letting her thieving nature even grow ill, let alone perish. She pulled out her chair and dropped into it lightly, rather disappointed as he waved away food, but settled herself with consuming the volumes of information in the dossier. She loved files–something about the succinct information, stripped of bullshit, was incredibly appealing to her. She listened to Arjen dutifully, even if all she could think was, I can read, I don't need you to say it for me.
She grinned in amusement, flipping through a timeline of assassination attempts and notes and a superb set of blueprints with all sorts of helpful annotations. For a brief moment, she thought of Ivan, and released a low snicker of laughter. Ah, now that was a bomb she wanted to get her hands on. Wouldn't it be ironic? Unfortunately, there was no way Scout could access the materials or manpower necessary to build a nuclear bomb, let alone in an evening. Still, the thought entertained her.
Not to mention, the gold...her eyes had lit up at that. Merlin...she could buy Hank off, and get enough supplies to build enough explosives to take down Parliament. Not to mention, stock her fridge with food, and maybe afford trips to St. Mungos so she could stop stitching herself up at home.
He asked what she though and she raised a pair of sharp, hazel eyes, before grinning in that carefree manner, plucking her necessary blueprints and notes from the file and sliding it back towards him, folding them up and placing them in her free boot, right beneath her switchblade, ordering a sandwich and tea offhandedly.
"Certain death, slim odds, and complications oh my? Sounds like fun." And there was something entirely feral about her at that last word, practically crackling with electricity, her smile self-satisfied and enthused, even as she mused that there would be no way in hell they would pull this off. They didn't exactly...work well together, and this was going to require precision planning and absolute trust. Neither of which she was entirely keen on.
His next statement made her expression go flat and all that catlike amusement dissipate, her eyes rolling. "Look, I know you're a stubborn idiot, but don't go on a killing spree, please. Something's going on with the underground, and if you kill the wrong person, you could start a war. I know you don't particularly care about that because you're a lapdog and thinking for yourself is impossible, but war with the black market is bad. You know, what with the whole economic collapse across the country, the elevated crime, the Ministry being powerless as they lose all their informants and bribes and all that shit. You think the Ministry is ineffectual, wait till a man like Weimar takes over."
She took a sip of the tea that had been placed before her. No detectable poisons and, swallow. Mmmm, teeeeaaa. Taking a bite into yummy sandwich, she thought for a moment and swallowed. She leaned back in her chair and looked around the pub in quiet interest, frowning. "Besides, he's getting away with smuggling on Hank's territory, which means there's troubles distracting him from eliminating the kid. I intend to find out just what's going on." She looked at him evenly. "Sometimes, killing everyone isn't the correct answer."
Tea sip.
|
|
Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Jan 31, 2008 20:48:05 GMT -5
Arjen shook his head at her softly. Maybe she was right. He sure this wasn’t going to go over well. He’d have to talk to Andrey before he made a move. Andrey probably knew what was going on tonight and there would be one way to know for sure. He still wanted to tell Scout about the lives he ended. Arjen finished up his meal and shook off the urge for another shot of whiskey. He stood up and looked down at her and before heading out he said something to her.
‘If your coming with me tonight, meet me outside of the docks. You will see me. If not… prepare for this mission. Don’t know about you, but 500,00 in gold sounds very good to me.’
Arjen didn’t even look back when and then walked into the Alley. There was a good walk ahead of him to get over to Knockturn Alley. He walked by himself for the most part. There were a few older wizards, but no kids. After all it was the fall and they were all in Hogwarts. A soft sigh came from him as he turned off into the much darker alley. He hated it down here. The sun was gone and nothing seemed to be good. There were a few wizards who eyes him a little funny, but Arjen would let them live.
He entered a small shop towards the end of the alley. An old owl was perched on a sign that was long worn down. It was in Cyrillic and it was for those transfer students from Russia and Ukraine. There were enough to keep the shop alive and working, but Arjen had a funny feeling it was a spot that Andrey had really taken over. Arjen open the door to the shop and heard a bell ring. He peered inside.
The small shop was packed with everything Russian. There were books, charms, shoes… everything all in a language he couldn’t understand. He knows some of the language, which will certainly come in useful on their hit. Then out of another room appeared a man of medium height and incredibly skinny. He looked like a twig to be honest, with dark brown hair that was of medium length. However, he had a piercing set of eyes that even in the dark room could be seen.
The Ukrainian smiled broadly and carefully made his way through the garbage on his shelves. Arjen embraced his old roommate and looked at him. It had been a while. He hadn’t seen him before he left. Arjen looked down at him and nodded at a proposal to sit in the back room with him. The two made their way around the shit on his shelves and Arjen was led to a rather open back room. It looked like a kitchen and there were steps leading up into another room. Arjen sat across from his friend.
‘How have you been Arjen?’ ‘Fine… listen Andrey I need to get right to the point. Ryan Babel. Who the fuck is he?’ ‘Babel… what do you want with him?’ ‘I want him dead because he’s tried to kill me and he kidnapped a young muggle girl.’ ‘The one who came from the warehouse?’ ‘Yeah… how did you?’ ‘Arjen… you know me. So your probably here to talk about what’s going on tonight.’
Something wasn’t right. Andrey wasn’t this friendly, he was a stuck up prick like Arjen, that’s why he got along so well with him. Arjen watched him get up and move over towards a coffee machine. Coffee? Andrey never drank coffee. He looked at him with an odd eye and watched as he poured two cups. Arjen stared at him.
‘You know I don’t like coffee.’ ‘Oh I’m sorry… I forgot its been so long.’ ‘How long?’
No answer. Arjen waited and didn’t even see his eyes. Andrey didn’t even turn over to him. That was when it happened. Andrey, or whomever the hell he was spun around wand in hand and tried to fire a killing curse at Arjen, but Arjen was ready and had already fired a killing curse at him. The green light lit up the room and Arjen dove out of his chair. He rushed into the other room with all of the shit on its shelves.
Arjen ducked behind a shelf and pulled out a knife. He heard the man rumbling through all of the shit and then Arjen rose and threw. His precision was incredible and he nailed the man in the shoulder hard enough to make the man drop the wand. Then over the shelves he went and hurled himself at the man, who fell over. He tried calling for his wand, but Arjen was already there. The polyjuice potion had just started to wear off. His weight was increasing and his hair shortening. What looked like a healthy twenty-three year Ukrainian, turned out to be a thirty year old heavyset man? Arjen shook his head.
‘Where the fuck is Andrey!’ ‘Gone, we knew you’d come.’ ‘Who the fuck are you?’ ‘That’s not important.’ ‘Then who the fuck do you work for?’ ‘Hank…’
He’d heard enough. Now his partner’s idol had some kind of vendetta against him. Arjen sighed and removed the knife from the man’s shoulder and slit his throat. Blood poured everywhere and Arjen waited for it to stop. He was long dead the time it ended. Arjen used some rope he found in the store and hung him from the ceiling. He knew Hank would be here before anybody else entered the shop. So Arjen ripped off the man’s shirt and carved his knife into him.
IF YOU WANT ME COME GET ME
Arjen cleaned his knife off in the sink. He had feeling that he was going into the deep end. The Ministry didn’t have a lot on the man that his partner knows. He was always astonished that he was never a target. That man would stop a lot of crime. Arjen also knew they’d be taking out a key crime pin in this Russian man. After the entire Ministry knew he funded a couple of crime organizations. He was sure one of them wasn’t Arjen’s. Once his knife was clean off and the blood washed from his hands, he walked up the stairs.
He was curious what was up here and if he’d find anything. There was a small room with a room, but it didn’t look like anybody had occupied it for years. A small bathroom was at the end of the hall and then there was a big bedroom. It was still messy and had a small cross hanging in the windowsill. There was no light or any kind of view from here, but Arjen looked out the window anyway. Nothing was out there. He looked around the room and saw no traces of Andrey. Arjen walked back down stairs.
He exited the room in his normally sketchy fashion and headed out of that hellhole and back into Diagon Alley. After all he still had a lot of gold to stick in the bank. A lot more then he had. On his way out he peered into a restaurant. There in the window was Scout and an older woman, probably her mother. After all they looked a like. Their facial features were similar, but her mother’s hair was lighter. Arjen turned away and went over to Gringots.
|
|
|
Post by Ed Taco on Feb 2, 2008 19:57:55 GMT -5
The illusion was easy to set up. If someone caught the view just right of the café window, they'd see her chatting with Auntie Marion. It was probably unnecessary, but she always left illusions when she was off visiting family, just in case. She'd know when the illusion was destroyed and be able to leave home and cover up her tracks. She suspected it was the only reason that her family never been used against her. Not to mention, it kept all the blood purists she knew from finding out that she wasn't the pureblood they thought she was and killing her in her sleep. Which was the lamest way to die ever.
She'd dealt with Gringotts easily enough, and glanced at her nice new watch. Agh! Late! She'd drop by Knockturn tonight then, after the docks, lest her folks start eating without her. Not good! The apparation was rushed, and she was lucky she didn't splinch herself as she appeared on a familiar doorstep, looking up at a small, ivy covered cottage. She sighed, raised her hand, and rapped sharply on the door. A long moment passed before the door swung open and her legs were impacted with weight. Swaying, her hand went for her wand before she recognised it to be one of her brothers offspring, just as blonde and just as violent as his father. She grinned and looked up to see her brothers face, offering a cheshire grin.
"Hey Atti." "Scout. Christ, what happened to your eye?" Ah, good times. Gently prying the six year old off her leg, she'd grinned and entered the house, linking her hands behind her neck. "Fighting bears." "REALLY," went Atticus' child, incapable of any volume below shouting. "HOW MANY?" "Three." "WOOOOWW...DAAAAAD WHY CAN'T YOU FIGHT BEARS?" Atticus shot his sister a sour look and she beamed cheerily up at him, punching him in the arm, before slipping away before big brother decided it was time to interrogate her. Though the idea of watching her brother utterly destroy Arjen was a pretty awesome thought, she had to remind herself that Asshat had a wand and it wouldn't be fair on her brother. Even though he could totally take him in a fight. Whatever.
Moving through the house towards a bustling, awesome smelling kitchen, she'd barely had time to squeak out, 'mum!' before she'd been spotted and a plat had been shoved into her arms of raw, animal flesh. Om nom nom. "Take these out to your father, will you? And stop Fred before he destroys the grill." "Uncle Fred's here?" "Yes dear, now hurry!" Scout brightened at this news. Not only was Uncle Fred the coolest cat ever, but he'd be really useful for helping her acquire some explosives and perhaps planning out this demolition. She set off, carrying the dead cow to the back garden, greeting her brothers wife with a smile (amused at the dark look she shot the bleeding animal being prepared, heh, good times). There she found her father fussing with the grill and Uncle Fred offering not very helpful suggestions, most of which would explode the thing and leave her father in the hospital. Ah, Uncle Fred, a man after her own heart.
"'lo father unit," she greeted cheerily, setting her platter of meat down on a nearby table, stuffing her hands in her pocket and examining the grill. "Have you tried kicking it?" Her father swore in the way people do when they whack their heads against things, as he did while attempting to extract himself from the belly of the beast. She stifled laughter and traded an amused glance with her uncle at her father's ineptitude. "Don't you start on me too, Scout." He'd muttered, rising to his feet and glowering at Fred, before gesturing with his thumb to the grill. "You try it then. Don't destroy it, please."
Scout snickered before her head was captured in a lock and her hair being tousled by her father unit, flailing her arms wildly. She'd taken after her father mostly in looks, only if he was about half a foot shorter and a couple hundred pounds lighter, and couldn't help but grin fondly as he released her, tweaking her nose. "How've you been kid?" "Pretty AWESOME!" "Good to hear. Who do I need to kill?" He gestured to her face and she scowled, biting down on her tongue, folding her arms. "No one, dad. See, this is why I don't take you out in public." "Nonsense." "FRED, tell dad he's being stupid!" "You're being stupid, Jim." "SEE?" "Fred's biased, Scout, you need more reputable sources." "Oh cock." "Mind your language! The polite term is phallus." "Ew, dad, you're such a freak." Scout pushed him towards the house, rolling her eyes. "Go make me tea." "Yes, daughter-unit."
A smile and...she turned to her uncle, expression sobering. "So, what's the most efficient bomb we could feasibly acquire by midnight tomorrow?" Uncle Fred's cheshire grin mirrored her own.
The setting sun began to cast shadows over the garden as Scout sulked from losing a game of croquet quite spectacularly, curled up and half-paying attention to her Uncle Fred's enthusiasm over these blueprints, quietly muttering ideas and scribbling down information, looking out at her parents enjoying tea with Atticus' wife, whose son was pestering his grandpa for a look in his garage and at his cars, pleasepleaseplease. She looked at her watch. Six thirty. She needed to leave, now.
"Listen, Fred, I gotta run. I'll drop by tomorrow. Ten am sound good?" "Hmm? Ah, yeah, I'll get started on those connections. Don't know whose letting you pull this off, but blimey, kid, if I was ten years younger, I'd kill you for a gig like that." She grinned lightly and scooped up the prints, rolling them and slipping them into her boot, rising to make her goodbyes.
"You should come around more often, Scout," her mother deplored. Scout kissed her cheek and gave a hug, whispering into her ear and pulling away. She took her time with her dad and brother, and crashed knuckles with her nephew before heading out the front door, apparating. The idea that she was leading a life where she could die and never see her family again struck her at that moment, and she felt almost physically ill. She shook it off as she looked around the familiar docks, hands in her pockets.
Seven o clock. Time to find out just what the hell was going on.
|
|
Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Feb 3, 2008 1:04:08 GMT -5
((I hate this post, but I have to say I love Scout's family. They're so loveable! =D))
Arjen sighed as he looked down at the goblin. Vile creatures these things. He wished he could kill all of them. They were fuckers to kill and didn’t die easily. They can live a good minute with a slit throat. Arjen sighed as he laid the gold on the table. It’s ugly little hands fiddled with the gold and Arjen stared him down checking every inch of him. He couldn’t trust goblins at all. It was just kind of natural and plus Arjen didn’t trust a lot of people. His mind wandered to what happened this afternoon. Why Hank want him dead? He’d never done anything to the man besides talk to the girl, but the girl wasn’t in contact with Hank. Then again it was the Ministry and they had thin case files on all of the most important criminals.
The goblin deposited his gold and Arjen left. Well he was going good right now. Arjen really was never in debt… he killed the men he owed. If he was he’d be able to crawl his way out. Right now his life was on track, but tonight was still unclear. In all honesty he didn’t know what to expect. Arjen would confront Scout on Hank. He’d hope that Scout could drop her hatred for Arjen because her career and that payday depended on Arjen’s life. There was no way that girl could take on Starkov. Arjen was fit for this hit, Scout was just a pawn. Then again… he had to start thinking of her as more then just a pawn. Maybe a castle or something.
He looked outside at the Alley. Clouds forming. Great… it was going to rain down at the docks. Arjen found his way back through the Leaky Cauldron. The temptation to drink was overpowering. Plus there was a pretty girl sitting right there at the bar, alone. Let’s hope she’s not another Babel girl. Arjen sat down two seats over from her. He looked over to her and kind of nodded, but it got her to smile, so he was basically in. Or at least he hoped.
‘Arjen Robben and you might be?’ ‘Emma McCarthy, what year did you graduate Hogwarts.’ ‘I’ve been out five years now, yourself?’ ‘Same with me I knew I recognized your face. You played Quidditch for Slytherin didn’t you.’ ‘At that I did.’ ‘Well I must say, I was quite your admirer… you were the best.’ ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
This girl was far too young to be twenty-three. Arjen eyed her closely and listened dully as she went to talk about the classes that they were in together. He didn’t even know this girl. Arjen sighed and opted against taking this home. He stood up and sighed and told her good bye. Arjen shook his head, he needed to think about tonight, not just some quickie. He shook it off and then headed back to his flat to arm himself for tonight. Arjen was preparing for war.
His apartment was fine and Arjen decided to make a run through of the room. Nobody hiding in his closet or bathrooms. Arjen cleaned off the blade he used on Hank’s man and put it on the table. Then he went into his room and hauled out the chest containing every weapon he owned. They totaled sixteen. Arjen picked out another two knives that he picked up from a blacksmith in Manchester. Good ol’ Wayne. The old man was completely senile, but a hell of a blacksmith. His knives were Arjen’s favorites.
Then he got his wand out and put it down on the table. He shut the case and put back into his room. Then he grabbed a white sweatshirt and went into his kitchen. Well he had an hour before he had to meet Scout at the docks. Arjen sighed as he cooked himself a nice steak. Nothing quite like steak before he had to go kill somebody… or something. Regardless of Scout’s warning he would kill Babel. He was tired of him fucking with his life and he kind of made a promise to his sister.
Arjen put the knives on his waist and his wand in his sleeve. He loaded up that finger blade as well and then opened the door and went out into the hall. His neighbor across the hall was returning with groceries. The old woman gave him an evil look. She knew what he did… not professionally though. He did partake in intercourse with both of her granddaughters. Arjen was after all one messed up fucker. He waved to the lady and then continued down the hall and out into the streets of London.
What he hoped would be a twenty-minute walk on London’s peaceful streets would not be possible. Not in anyway shape or form. It was pouring outside. The downpour of rain was substantially bigger then what Arjen had imagined. He would have to apparate. Arjen flicked up his hood and apperated out to the docks. He stood in on a street corner just outside of the docks. There were muggle ships passing through the river and Arjen looked around for Scout and then made his way into the docks and then turned to the pop. She was standing about fifty feet away, but the rain was so ferocious that he was almost unable to make her out. Where ever she was standing was dry, so Arjen walked over to her. He flipped down his hood.
‘Alright before we start this thing I’ve got to tell you something. Some man who claimed he worked for Hank tried to kill me today. He was in Knockturn Alley posing as an old friend of mine. I just want to know if you know anything about this. I’m sure you don’t give a flying fuck if that bastard kills me, but you need me to get that fucking gold. I die you get dropped, not the Ministry, but from the case and trust me you won’t be making 500,000 working for Jenas.’
Arjen was sure she Aaron Jenas. He was a hit wizard and also recruited for the Ministry. Scout was his snag, sadly enough. Arjen didn’t really like the man, but then again he didn’t like a lot of people. He looked out the docks and hoped the rain would clear up, he couldn’t see anything. It was terrible. He squinted and made out a red umbrella under the light a distance out. Arjen looked at her and then decided to do something he would never normally do, but for once in his life he wanted to look out for someone other then himself.
‘Scout… I completely ignored my desire to kill you when I thought up this plan. Do you know anywhere we can eavesdrop on these people?’
|
|
|
Post by Ed Taco on Feb 4, 2008 1:19:05 GMT -5
[[Hooray! I adored writing her family. They were criminally fun. Needless to say, they will probably show up more often! XD]]
Scout looked out at the downpour with a frown, tugging on her jean skirt in annoyance, huddling in on herself. Should have brought a sweater, she mused, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. At least she'd apparated in under an overhang from a nearby building, she mused, nudging a puddle with her boot. Looking out over the dock, she could barely make out the shape of it, let alone Babel. The rain amplified footsteps though, and her hand was at her wand and a curse on her lips before she recognised the figure to be Arjen. She didn't move her hand from her wand, and merely looked up at him as he joined her beneath the overhang and pulled down his hood. White? What was with his obsession with white? It stained way too easily.
Clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, she listened quietly to him speak, debating whether or not to tune him out. His mentioning of 'Hank' made her start despite herself, and look up at him, searching his expression intently, distrust on her face. Which was ironic, as he should be doubting her, but Scout hadn't told a soul about who she was working for now. She was reckless, but not suicidal. And certainly not stupid. So...Hank knew. Which meant that her efforts were likely useless, and he'd be getting the word out about her parentage, because that would be the easiest way to destroy her without getting blood on his hands. And she'd brought him home to her family, back when she was young and in what she confused for love, which meant... Scout went very pale at that, and looked away, rubbing her arms and staring intently at the refractions of light on a nearby puddle. Now, more than ever, she needed the gold. If she could send them away, maybe to Puerto Rico, or where was that place her father had liked...whatever. She needed a thousand miles between her and them now. She worried her lip.
"He's probably here then," she murmured, looking out over the dock, eyes distant. "He's probably going to cut a deal, and he'll have the blackmail to do it." He was always prepared, always a step ahead of everyone else... He spoke again and she shook her head, clearing her mind of thoughts, returning her gaze up to him. Stupid tall people, craning her neck.
"You can hang out beneath the pier. Get a good listening charm, maybe a sticking, they'll never know you're there." She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, almost tasting metal on the air, interspersed with the filthy freshness of rain that only happened in cities like London. Opening a hazel gaze, she turned away and out into the rain. "I've got a deal to make." And she was quickly stepping away, hair plastered to her face as she approached the red umbrella she'd spotted, leaving him behind. How could she trust him? He'd, indirectly yes, nearly cut out her eye, and had a bloodlust that excepted her only because of the situation, a thoughtlessness to his actions...bah. She was better off alone anyways. She'd made it this far.
[[would write more, but I need sleep =0=]]
|
|
Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Feb 5, 2008 23:45:08 GMT -5
((More useless killing!! This is why I love writing Arjen.))
Arjen looked at her as she went out under the rain. He stood there for a few seconds. Was he seriously letting her go out and do this? He shook his head and decided maybe he would heed her advice. Who knows maybe he’d have to save her life tonight. Arjen needed her alive for this pay day. He sighed softly and quickly looked around for anybody who might be coming. His wand appeared in his hand as he flipped his hood up. Taking one more look out to the pouring rain he started his walk underneath the heavy London rain.
He was drenched to his t-shirt by the time he had crept to the next building a little more then one hundred meters away. Arjen stood under the building and looked around for Scout. He had lost her in the rain and Arjen needed to find this fucking pier, but it was nowhere to be seen. He wandered into the building he was standing under. It was massive, but hallow. There were a few crates sent off to the side and there was a second level that moved over the top of the ground floor. Arjen decided it would be best to stay in his place, the shadows. He had already heard voices about something, but they weren’t audible at this distance. Arjen needed to find out what these bastards were saying. Fuck Scout.
He found a door that led to a set of stairs that were made of some kind of shit metal. They were already rusting. Honestly couldn’t the magical community clean this fucking dump up? Arjen stayed to the side of the rust, as not to disturb it. He crept up and then began to hear footsteps coming towards the steps. Son of a bitch. He was coming here. Arjen had done this far to long. He sprinted silently to the top of the steps. His knife was already in his right hand by the time he reached the top. Arjen didn’t even bother to look at the person. Blood sprayed out of his neck and Arjen stepped to the side. He wasn’t getting this sweatshirt dirty. The man toppled down the stairs, but Arjen had already used the mute charm to silence his fall. With his knife away he continued down the level.
There were two men, wands drawn standing outside of some kind of room that was walled off from the level. It was lit up very well and was able to observe everything inside of the building. Arjen jumped up on the railing that was well shaded by the wall of the actual structure. It was pretty sturdy and Arjen had the balance of an Olympic gymnast. He bent over to have a lower center of gravity and moved silently through the shadows. Arjen stood about six feet away from the two men and then decided to eavesdrop. God he was wearing white and they couldn’t see him!
‘I don’t understand why Hank is so paranoid. Does he honestly think this sale will get busted. Babel’s here and he mentioned something to Willis about another partner. Why he has heightened security for three or four of the finest wizards in England is beyond me. Plus it’s pouring rain. Who the fuck would want to bust this on a night like this?’ ‘Me.’ ‘What the-’
Nothing quite like ripping out someone’s windpipe mid sentence. The other man was too slow to react and Arjen ended his life with a knife through the eye. They dropped like flies and Arjen looked around for a key. Great there was none. Well he wouldn’t have to break in because there was movement inside of the room. Arjen stood up and flipped his hand. Out came a blade that filled his missing finger. A small man with long brown hair answered the door. He was in a flannel shirt and some workpants. They would be full of blood in a second.
Arjen punctured his neck and then threw a blade into another man’s head. Then hell broke loose. There was yelling between the three men in the room. They were sure they could kill this man in white. Still they insisted that the tallest man run to warn Hank. It never happened because Arjen’s knife found his throat. His wand lit up green and a burly man with a grotesque beard went flying back. The last man stood there shaking. He looked about thirty. Not respectable in the way he dressed. His clothing looked like rags and his hair was short. Bad move for him because his face was scared to kingdom come. Arjen had no problem in killing him. Another man came into the room with coffee. Arjen shook his head and ended his life, but not before taking a cup. Java… nothing quite like it.
He looked out on the room and into the warehouse came Scout and another wiry looking man in a deep conversation. On the other side of the room came a man who was taller then the wiry haired one. His clothing looked sharp from his angle. Arjen put up a listening charm. He caught the whispering between what was probably Babel and another man. They were looking for a good deal. Arjen caught wind of Scout’s conversation, but he was to busy cleaning the blood from the window. This should be interesting. The deal moved from the pier to an abandoned warehouse on the docks. Arjen hoped he could end all of their lives tonight.
Alright maybe not Scout, she would die later on. Arjen cracked his knuckles and looked out on the four. He sat back in his seat and cleaned his knives with a shirt taken off of the first man he killed. The first signs that the deal was going bad Arjen would fly down. He would kill Babel first. Arjen would like that. He grinned to himself and sipped his Java.
|
|
|
Post by Ed Taco on Feb 8, 2008 23:26:24 GMT -5
[[Mmm. Senseless murder. Tasty. Sorry if this screws anything of yours up. Feel free to blatantly ignore parts if they do XD And my apologies for delay/crappiness. Writers block is a BITCH.]]
He underestimated her. She could tell from the look of disdain he shot her, raking his eyes up and across her figure, the quiet scoff. And, admittedly, she was certainly playing it up, allowing her teeth to chatter, wiping rain out from her eyes as she joined him beneath his obnoxiously red umbrella. She'd flashed one of those tight, nervous smiles, flicked her eyes about. She could hear the unloading going on just a little way down the dock, and she returned her attention to him with wide, protuberant eyes, painting across any calculations with the ease of practise. From the way he relaxed, she knew she'd got him.
"Sorry I'm late," she'd breathed, pushing hair out of her eyes and squeezing out the rain water. The incessant rain spilled down around them, as lightning streaked across the sky. She could properly see him for a moment, stark and wry, tense. He was definitely a rookie, and she almost pitied him. "You're lucky I waited." She winced with a flippant smile, waving her hand dismissively. "Who are we buying from?" "Saint-Clair. It's a small shipment, but we're the last stop." She nodded, stuffing her hands in her pockets before he started asking questions, brows furrowing in thought. She wasn't surprised he was getting sloppy seconds (or eighths), Saint-Clair had more important clients than some kid just starting out. Even so, this meant that Babel was clearly wealthy enough to get his foot in the door, which nearly made her smile. "Where are we–" "There's a warehouse we cleared out. Come on."
Now this caught her interest. Usually small fries didn't have a building for use. She followed slightly behind him, apprehension beginning to pool in her gut. This...wasn't normal. Clearing out a warehouse meant he had enough man power to have cleaned and staffed it. Protection? He reeked wealth, which went hand in hand with paranoia, but...there was usually arrogance. This was too clever. He was making this very inviting for more experienced smugglers, an easy deal in which everyone could get a good cut, and he could build trust, and good working relationships. Really, it was all rather shrewd.
The warehouse had been lit up, and from the buzz of murmured conversation, people were most certainly watching. A small stream of men were entering and exiting through the back, stacking crates and cages. She suspected Heat, probably a good deal of Class B Non-tradeable Goods, a few decent Class A's, and...if she heard correctly, they'd gotten a nice set of Erklings, probably for fighting rings, and from a flash of fire, a Fire Crab or two. All in all, not a bad haul. Saint-Clair was known for his large shipments, so that fit the bill...
"How'd you get in with Saint-Clair?" "I know a guy who knows a guy." Hank. It was always Hank. So this was intentional. Was he training his replacement, or...? She looked up to see two well-dressed wizards talking rather quietly, recognising Hank with ease. She worried her lip as they made eye contact, and her hand moved instinctively to her wand as she took a step back. He merely smiled pleasantly. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Everything seemed to grow quiet, and it took her a moment to return to her senses. She let a smile fill her face as she raised her hand. "Saint! Hank! Good to see you again," she called out, ever chipper, even dripping as she was. She didn't dare touch her wand though–no one did. Not in the middle of a deal. Going for your wand meant the deal was off and you sure as hell better be faster than the other guy. "Scout," Hank's voice was as smooth and composed as ever, polite, even when he was more predatory than anything else. She steeled herself. "What a surprise." That made Babel tense, as she'd shown up on Hank's authority, but she kept smiling away, linking her hands behind her neck. "I'm amazing like that. I needed something to do, anyways. I'm bored with life, see." "Your new client does not occupy you enough?" "Pfft, he's an asshat," She'd commented offhandedly. Hank undoubtedly knew who she was talking about, because his dry chuckle definitely confirmed what Asshat had said. About that whole attempt on his worthless life and what not. "My apologies. Well, to business?" "To business! Oh, wait, that wasn't a toast, was it? Damn."
It was just like all times. She could tell Babel was thrown off–airheaded 'Anna' (who wasn't an Anna on Hank's authority at all) had taken over the deal. She'd dispose of him once she got him to pay for the goods, maybe Saint-Clair would be kind enough to do the honours. "Perhaps we should...retire to somewhere more comfortable," Saint-Clair had spoken up, standing erect in the curious way that nobility does. He was old money. Bored old money, to be precise, who had started trading on a whim, and had enjoyed it. He'd also been good. The tall man wore his age well (once you hit forty, you were old in the underground, no questions asked). A slightly arched nose, crisp, pale features, and greying blonde hair pulled back severely, he reminded her of Ichabod Crane. Mmm, muggle literature.
As the makeshift group moved towards a more (hopefully) secured location, Scout begun to smell metal on the air. Blood. ...damn you, Arjen, can you not keep yourself from killing until AFTER the deal? She blanked her expression carefully, and felt a grip on her upper arm. She glanced over her shoulder and kept walking. Ah, hello Babel. "You lied." "That's what I do." "You're Arbner, aren't you?" She smiled in response, and watched him flinch. Hank had his reputation for being the best, and some of that had been attributed to her with her association with the man. But most of the whispers regarding Scout Arbner were about her brutality when it (admittedly rarely) came to blows. About how most of her victims ended up strangled and strung by their own entrails, mainly.
Scout had her moments.
|
|
Jay
New Member
Posts: 37
|
Post by Jay on Feb 9, 2008 19:28:10 GMT -5
((Didn't have much in this post. I had no idea what you wanted, so I kind of assumed. If its not what you had in mind, then do it how you did it, but Arjen is still stalking the group.))
He watched the group with a certain interest. It was interesting to see these pussies toy with their money. He couldn’t tell who was in control, but since it seemed that Scout was helped out by a few others Babel was on the weak hand. Arjen shook his head. It was seemed like a joke. These men, he soon learned weren’t Hank’s. Not at all. That bastard didn’t need protection. It was Babel. That prick. He needed to hire somebody like Arjen to keep watch. Well it was know up to nine people that Arjen had killed associated with Babel. Then something happened that he didn’t expect. They were on the move.
It was his fucking partner who probably suggested the idea. Bitch would make him move. Arjen had Babel in his hands. Now he’d have to race to their location kill the faggot guards and then listen back in on the conversation. There was one thing that Arjen had no idea what to do about. He had no idea where they were off to. Arjen stood up and walked out of the room. They wouldn’t know it was a hit wizard. Scout would and that made him grin lightly. When she looked up he shook his head. She knew he was already in his element, fucking people up.
Once he hit the steps he clung to the shadows. Right now he couldn’t be caught because he would fuck everything up and well Scout would probably kill him, so he stayed in the shadows. Then the body that was at the bottom of the stairs laid in a pool of blood. If the came up here they were screwed. He leaned over and pulled the dead man to the corner. The blood smeared with him, but at least he was out of the way. Arjen drew his wand slowly and listened to their steps and conversations. A voice that was unfamiliar talked to Scout and called her a liar. Got that right.
They didn’t turn. So Arjen was in the clear at least for now. He lifted his head lightly and peered out of the door. Its creak was silent thank god. They were out in the rain and Arjen slipped out from the door and looked around. No body was moving and Arjen decided to follow the crowd. He moved under the rain silently. Arjen had done this too long. These pricks wouldn’t hear him under this rain and with Arjen’s newly applied mute charm. Where were they going?
The group of four moved through out the docks with no place intended. They better not apperate, or he would kill Scout. That was unacceptable. Then they made a move to a smaller building, that had one man outside. This would be a joke. The four didn’t even acknowledge the man and he just nodded. Then they moved into the building and then the door shut behind them. Well it was Arjen’s turn. A quick killing curse sent the man across the wet ground. He moved with a certain ease and decided he’d infiltrate this house. Arjen moved the body to the corner and because the man’s clothing was a few sizes bigger then him he slipped his uniform over his own body. It smelled absolutely terrible.
Arjen slipped the door open and proceeded into a large empty room. He moved on through this room and heard some talking. The door was closed, but Arjen put a listening charm on the room. He could hear everything rather clearly. Then there was movement to the door. Arjen moved back to the shadow and drew a blade. A man walked out and closed the door. He looked like another guard. Arjen hurled his knife at him and then he dragged him into the shadows.
These people were useless. Arjen looked at the man looked around through his things and found a key. He twirled it around his finger and then opened the next room. There was a table and some people, but none were Babel or Scout for that matter. It was a bunch of guards sitting around the table. Well their done. He pulled out his already bloody knife and threw it down at his first victim. The other four didn’t even turn. He slit the other’s neck and then with his hidden blade hit another one. Then his cover was shot there was some yelling, but Arjen killed the other two. Up came the listening charm. He threw another man off of the chair and he sat in the chair and put up the listening charm he adored.
He needed a cup of Java.
|
|