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Private A Job To Die For

Discussion in 'Ark City' started by Sebastian Moran, Sep 20, 2018.

  1. Sebastian Moran

    Sebastian Moran Sherlock Holmes

    Posts:
    50
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Marksman
    Race:
    Human
    Directory:
    link
    [​IMG]


    September 22nd, Year 108
    @Baby



    ___________________________________​

    September 19th​
    The world had ended and begun again. Basher was pretty certain he's actually bloody died, but now he was alive as ever, still tasting the nicotine on his tongue like he's never been dead.
    He was a father now - somehow, in some way - and a war hero of a place he's never even went to war in.
    None of it he understood.

    But this, this he understood, he thought when setting up his rifle on the 16th floor of a near-empty hotel building.
    The cigarette between his teeth smoked away peacefully. Somewhere in a room above him, somebody was playing Beethoven. The pieces of the sniper rifle sat familiar in his hand, and the mechanisms fell into place skillfully beneath his fingers. He was calm, relaxed.
    Some shady bastard had promised him a hell lot of money for this shot, and Basher hadn't bothered asking what the issue was.
    He liked money. And he liked bringing death on a precisely aimed bullet - and somebody needed him to do exactly that. There hadn't been need to talk much further.

    Not much later, he had his eye against the scope and his target across the street, sunglasses on and looking younger than Sebastian had expected.
    He had a clear view. The sky was cloudless, the wind low, the angle perfect.
    His finger was calmly resting upon the trigger as he blended out all sound around him, focusing only on the beating of his own heart.
    The target was stood in front of an expensive looking car, the line of his shoulders appeared relaxed, but he was clearly up to something.

    Basher frowned, the finger that's been steadily squeezing the trigger coming to a halt.

    Out in the wilderness there was only one call the hunter was meant to follow - gut feeling. Nothing was nearly as reliable as instinct, and no word as trustworthy as a feeling in one's stomach.
    Slowly, Sebastian released the trigger, without having fired his shot. There would be time for a kill any hour of the day - no matter the time or place, he'd be able to make it work if need be.
    But first, he wanted to figure out who this boy was.
    There was no quitting a gut feeling.

    ___________________________________​

    September 22nd​

    Cigarette between his fingers, and the sun slowly crawling towards the pavement, Sebastian turned the next corner into a smaller street of Ark City's always busy districts.
    The boy known as Baby was a few buildings ahead, and the marksman's sharp eyes were trained upon him, but there was no hurry in his step.
    The contract hadn't been quit yet - but if everything turned out right today, then he'd quit it later tonight. It wasn't his bloody problem whether his soon-to-be-ex employer would be upset about it. Surely, he'd be able to find somebody else to shoot that boy, if he really wanted to.

    Turning another corner, the streetlamps grew rarer here, the buildings dirtier.
    Before Baby could disappear behind one of the buildings, Sebastian crossed the remaining distance in long strides, and grasped the boy's forearm to make him come to halt.
    The alley was empty except for the two of them, conveniently so. Audience only ever tended to cause unnecessary trouble and bloodshed.

    "You're a bloody good driver, Baby, can't deny that. But you might want to reconsider that nickname."
    Releasing the boy's arm, Basher took a lazy drag on his cigarette, sharp blue eyes steady upon the other. If the boy were to run, he'd kick him down in no time. Or simply shoot him in the leg with the handgun hidden beneath his jacket.

    "Hell, where are my manners. It's Sebastian, pleasure."
    With a grin that was much more terrifying than it was friendly, the marksman offered his free hand for a handshake, as if this was a new-neighborhood-introduction session.

     
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  2. Baby

    Baby Baby Driver

    Posts:
    5

    He had a job interview tomorrow. A part of him was actually excited for it. Having come here to Pandora straight from prison put life into perspective. Not that Baby had been under any false impression that what he had been doing had been okay, but it hadn't been his voice. He hadn't had any other options. Maybe the others would have been caught, too, if things had gone differently. Or maybe Baby would still be trapped in a world he didn't want anything to do with.

    None of that mattered, though, in Pandora where things were different. Or they were supposed to be different, and yet there was that impulse that he'd flipped right back to, nabbing cars whenever the urge struck him and joyriding through the streets of Ark City, jumping on the highway. Cops tried to chase him down, but they hadn't dealt with Baby before and he outwitted them every time. Once, he'd slipped himself between two other red cars in the heat of the moment and veered off in another direction at the split of the highway, his pursuers getting confused and chasing after the innocent of the cars.

    There was no denying the sense of euphoria that still came with it all, especially when he was blasting something right for the scene in his ears. And he always was. Life needed a soundtrack, and with those earbuds he'd probably be caught dead without, it always had one.

    The public had started giving him a name, though. The "ghost rider", which was a little funny to him. Wasn't that a comic book character? Still, it was exactly the thing that had gotten him thinking about the idea of getting a regular job and leaving the crime behind him. It was just delivering pizzas, but it was something. And, hell, he'd be one fast pizza delivery guy. Imagine the tips.

    A hand caught his arm just before he turned a corner, jogging him from his thoughts. The sound of Fleetwood Mac in his ears was still clear as day as he came to a halt, though it wasn't entirely his choice. The man's grip was a strong one and Baby turned to stare up at him behind his dark sunglasses, and although his eyes were hard to see, his shock and confusion was clear as day in the way his lips parted.

    Baby.

    He knew his name. Baby couldn't put into words why he had kept it, why it had stuck despite everything that had happened, why he didn't just go by Miles now. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that this man knew his name, and Baby hadn't done anything of significance using that name. The vibes he was getting were bad ones even as the man, Sebastian, released his arm and held out his hand. The look on his face wasn't friendly despite the grin. It was more chilling than anything else, and rather than shake his hand, Baby found himself taking a step back, lifting a hand to pull his earbud out of his right ear.

    "I'm not open for business," he told him, and there was something direct about the way he said it, as if he thought he already knew where this was going. Swallowing thickly, Baby pressed his lips to a fine line and turned with every intention of going the other way.

    ooc; ignore the fact that i have no icon aslfjhalsfhjasf, i don't have access to photoshop until later today.
     
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  3. Sebastian Moran

    Sebastian Moran Sherlock Holmes

    Posts:
    50
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Marksman
    Race:
    Human
    Directory:
    link

    What he was doing here was rare for him to do. Very rare.
    Basher wasn't much of a team-player unless there was more gain than loss from pretending to be one. But dismissing a kill in favor of a partner in crime was definitely a first, which made that boy quite a special case.
    Thus there was nearly a sting of disappointment when Baby's reaction was exactly what Sebastian would have expected any average citizen to react.
    Shock, confusion, perhaps even fear - all included. And he didn't even need to see the other's eyes to tell.
    God, please don't make this one a boring one.

    The handshake wasn't returned - something that would probably have left a few civilized Brits gasping and frowning in bewilderment if this were London - and when Baby took a step backwards, Sebastian lowered his hand with a casual shrug.
    This wasn't London and he wasn't civilized.

    I'm not open for business
    At least the boy wasn't bloody daft.
    But it was cute that he thought he'd have any say in this whatsoever. For Basher it didn't make much of a difference, truly. Either the other joined in on the fun, or he'd shoot the boy first thing tonight.
    It would be somewhat of a shame, certainly, but he wouldn't bloody weep over the other's loss.
    Money wasn't something he'd ever complain about. (Unless talk was about wealthy politician and elite societies).

    Even when the other turned with intention to disappear out of sight, Sebastian knew Baby wouldn't be getting very far. Not as long as he had a say in this, and at the moment he most fucking certainly did.
    It was only for effect - to catch the other's attention for good, if you will - that he pulled his revolver in a smooth motion and pointed it towards the other with a steady hand. He had a more modern handgun by now, but old habits died hard, and this little, beautiful piece of weaponry had not seen enough murder yet as that he'd be willing to put it down. Besides, somebody's told him that vintage was popular these days.
    The weapon made its familiar clicking sound when he cocked the hammer calmly, nothing in his expression indicating any sign of distress. He was entirely unfazed.

    "Apologies, I should have been clearer on the matters at hand."
    Again, the cutting sharpness in his voice was subtle, but cold. Like a shimmer of steal in a darkened room.
    He didn't need to speak threats to establish the fact that this was not a walk-away situation.

    "It's simple. Somebody offered me a fair amount of money for sniping you a good three days ago. And I would have - I was damn close to doing it, actually. Trigger half-pulled and all.
    But I've decided you're more useful alive. So, really, this is up to you. Either you leave now, and I shoot you tonight. Or you drive me around a few times, and I'll make sure you live.

    Are we clear now?"


    No distress or anger or upset lingered with these words. Sebastian was the epitome of steel-sharp patience, the blue of his eyes non-saying but fixated upon Baby with an intensity of somebody who could probably predict your next move with a mere glance.

     
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  4. Baby

    Baby Baby Driver

    Posts:
    5

    Baby knew hardened criminals. He'd spent more time around them than he cared for, and everything about the way that this man carried himself said hardened criminal. He didn't really know in what respect, not yet anyway, and he didn't think he cared to know either. The less he knew, the better. But it didn't matter how much or how little he knew because when he started to turn away from him with the intention of slipping away into the dark with the hopes of never seeing him again, it was apparent just how far he wouldn't be getting.

    The sound of that cutting sharpness in his voice was just about as familiar as the click of the weapon beside him. Baby hadn't even turned all the way before he froze. Not in a way that necessarily suggested a sense of cowardice or fear. He'd always been good at holding back those kinds of emotions except in the most dire of situations, and this situation wasn't dire enough if he still had something to offer.

    'You're either hard as nails or scared shitless.'

    That was what Griff had said to him. Sometimes Baby didn't even know which it was and this situation wasn't an exception. Not yet.

    He was smart enough both to stand still and to listen, though. Baby didn't turn his gaze toward the man, not daring to move a muscle, so he stared at the wall ahead of him instead. Somebody had paid this guy to come kill him. Maybe it wasn't completely nuts. He stole cars, went joyriding. It was what he did, and that could piss people off. Apparently enough to want him dead. It had to be more than that, but to be fair, that was the least important piece of information in that particular moment.

    "... Crystal," he murmured after a moment. "Just a few times. A few times, and that's it." Finally, Baby turned his gaze toward him, lips pressing to a fine line. There was almost a sense of expectancy there as though trying to come to some kind of understanding. He didn't want to go down this path. Not again.

     
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  5. Sebastian Moran

    Sebastian Moran Sherlock Holmes

    Posts:
    50
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Marksman
    Race:
    Human
    Directory:
    link

    It hadn't been hard to predict that Baby here wouldn't want a bullet in his skull, and luckily he wasn't daft enough to assume he could run faster than Basher could fire his revolver, so the situation quickly settled the way the marksman had intended it to.

    His new soon-to-be driver stopped in his tracks immediately, not even daring to turn around, but Sebastian knew he was listening.
    Because this was important. His life kind of depended on listening, now, and Baby was doing a good job so far.

    After a moment of silence once Basher's clarified the matters at hand, the expected outcome came around, too. All in all, everything was going rather smoothly.
    Almost a little too smooth. Sebastian considered telling the other to run, just so he could chase him down for the fun of it. But that would have been counter productive, and a waste of time, and Basher was more of a pragmatic man. Though he would have liked this to be more exciting.

    Just a few times
    The other turned finally, apparently realizing that he wouldn't be getting shot today, and Sebastian stared him down for just a moment longer, before shrugging casually and putting his revolver away.
    There wasn't much need to state the obvious - which was that Baby had very little to say regarding how many times he was going to drive the marksman around.

    Sebastian didn't care much for loyalty, but if the lad did a good job, he might even find it in him to consider the a few times genuinely.
    Baby wasn't a complete idiot, and that qualified him for eventual removal from the job possibly alive, not in form of a corpse with a bullet hole in his skull (as was usually the case).

    "Sure. Let's get to it. Where's your car?"

    There were murders to be taken care of.


     
    #5 Sebastian Moran, Oct 4, 2018
    Last edited: Oct 12, 2018 at 7:19 AM
    Baby likes this.
  6. Baby

    Baby Baby Driver

    Posts:
    5

    Once you were in, getting out didn’t seem to be a simple option. Baby had learned that the hard way when Doc had shown up at the restaurant that fateful night, when he had explained to him that paying him back for what he’d stolen and what he’d damaged didn’t make him a free man.

    No, Baby knew how this worked, which meant his mind was still wandering, still trying to find some kind of out even as he agreed. Did he know where he lived? Did he know his real name? Few people did, but he hadn’t exactly been able to put Baby on his documentation either. He wouldn’t have wanted to either.

    For a moment, he found himself stuck in his head, using that as some sort of retreat until the sound of the man’s voice pulled him back in again.

    “What?” he murmured dumbly as though he hadn’t expected that to come so soon. “I don’t, um— I don’t have one. I’ve boosted ever car I’ve driven here.” It was a bold thing to say out loud, but Baby figured this guy knew more than enough about his joyriding pastime.

    It was harmless. That was why it worked for him. Because it was harmless. Nobody got hurt.

    This man, though, was a man who hurt people for a living.

     
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  7. Sebastian Moran

    Sebastian Moran Sherlock Holmes

    Posts:
    50
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Marksman
    Race:
    Human
    Directory:
    link

    What?
    Perhaps he wasn't as smart as assumed, after all. Sebastian arched an eyebrow in silence, but didn't say anything quite yet.

    Baby was a weird guy - as weird as that nickname of his, to say the least, and while gathering information on someone had never been an exceptionally difficult task for Basher, he knew that a file could only say so much. And even if one bothered to go around and speak with everyone the target had any relation to, in the end that would only ever be a fragment of the truth.

    It was true that Basher preferred people dead, not alive. Or, rather, he preferred them alive for long enough to get a chance to make them dead.
    But that didn't mean he couldn't find people interesting.

    There was something entertaining - hell, even appealing - in the thought that this time around he wouldn't be making acquaintances with his target post-mortem, but rather he'd get the chance to actually figure out who this person was.

    Baby didn't strike him as annoying, chatty company. And though the boy seemed a little too stuck in his own head, Basher didn't care as long as he'd react quickly and precisely to orders given.
    If the guy knew how to think for himself, too, well - their time together would just be a blast!

    The rocky beginning was sadly not very promising, though.

    Sebastian sighed but refrained from rolling his eyes at Baby's obvious explanation.
    "Then get one. Or would you prefer me taking care of that?"

    Annoyance wasn't quite audible yet, but it was evident that if Baby didn't want more people than already planned to wind up dead or at the very least injured, he would have to set himself into motion and get his hands on a damned car.
    Because however Baby preferred stealing his cars - Basher's version of doing so was likely to be much more bloody.

     
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  8. Baby

    Baby Baby Driver

    Posts:
    5

    The man's patience didn't seem to be much, but it was enough to keep him alive for the moment. And for the moment, he needed to be alive, otherwise he was gonna have a serious problem. As the other man inhaled and then let out a sigh, Baby didn't seem to react outwardly. He'd always been good at keeping a straight face. He was used to this sort of thing, people rolling their eyes at him, giving him crazy looks, having no patience, assuming he was never listening because of the earbuds in his ears. Only one earbud was still in, which meant a lot for someone like Baby even when he was still wearing shades over his eyes. It meant he was listening extra well.

    "No," he said quickly, and there was a firmness to it. He wasn't saying he wouldn't get the car, though that may have been the initial assumption, but Baby seemed to realize that very quickly as he continued. "I'll do it." Despite that save, though, the gears in Baby's head were still turning. He took a step back from the other man, casting his blue eyes down the street until it fixed on a silver car a ways down, sitting there all on its own. He couldn't tell exactly what it was from a distance, and in Pandora, it probably didn't matter entirely, but at the very least, he could tell it would get the job done.

    But then his eyes were drifting behind those sunglasses, lingering for a moment on the alley a short distance in front of the car. An escape route. It probably lead out to the main road, and the main road was more likely to keep him safe. The more people around, the better.

    Maybe Baby wasn't thinking it completely through. The last thing he wanted was for people to get hurt, and every sign pointed to just that when he considered fleeing. But at the same time, he couldn't bring himself not to consider it. He'd been in this life before with people less ready to kill than this man was. Those had all been robberies. This was something else, something he didn't want anything to do with. So he took in a figurative breath and then set off down the street toward the car, keeping his cool outwardly since that was something he was so incredibly good at.

    It was at the very last second as he was passing the alley by that Baby suddenly moved, sprinting to the side with every intention of disappearing around that corner.

     
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