thisavrou_log | [CLOSED] LA's, Truth to Tell, Not Much Different--

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[CLOSED] LA's, Truth to Tell, Not Much Different--

Who: The Legs and The Eyepatch
When: May 11th
Where: Kauto
What: One of Elizabeth's storytime regulars has gone missing, she enlists one of the few people she still knows, Badou, to help track the kid down. As with most kidnapping incidents, things go south.
Warnings: Badou. And violence. Definitely some blood.

It'd been some time between Elizabeth's bar fight, but not much longer since Thane had left. Vaguely, she's been aware of things going on around Thisavrou, but has she had any desire to engage with any kind of activity or person on both planets? Not exactly.

She has to eat, so she goes through the motions of work. That's easy enough. Shelve this here, catalog this there, straighten up the inevitable disaster the children left in the kids' section. That-- she didn't mind so much. She smiled at one of the girls who was hugging one of the beanbag chairs and pouting, and crouched down.

"Viola it's time to go home, where's your brother?" The two of them usually walked home together, but now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen Frankie in a few days. Viola gripped the beanbag tighter and Elizabeth's smile flickered.

"Dad said he's coming back soon?" The little girl didn't sound convinced, so neither was Elizabeth. As she closed up the desk, Elizabeth casually abused her librarian privileges and found some full names. Sure enough, Frankie had been abducted a week ago, and his parents were getting desperate if all of their network activity could be trusted.

"...well, what the hell else am I doing?" she muttered, gathering up her coat and walking with purpose to the door. It's the first time she's actually decided to do something after work in a long, long time.

It's your favorite psych patient. What have you got on at the moment? Anything exciting?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

ITS AWFUL!! He's going to have to show her a bunch of movies, get her some good ideas. Even Brad isn't that bad.

He gently weaves his arms around her shoulders to lift her up to her feet. "Of course, baby doll, of course-- let's get you home, gonna have you rest."

Once she stands, Badou turns to their audience, smile sheepish. "Thanks for watchin' out for her, guys. I'd be doomed if something happened to her."

She needs education in many things-- movies in particular. Her fake names come from 1912 for crying out loud. But it's worked this time at least, the office workers seem to buy that the two of them are an item (the reactions range from disappointed she's taken to thrilled that this adorable story is playing out in front of them).

"Don't I know it..." she says with a little chuckle, leaning on Badou and letting him take the lead. Once they're out of earshot--

"Sigourney? Really?"

"I could say the same! I ain't eggs Benedict, thank you very much," he's Almost disappointed in her for that, but the thrill of victory chimes too loudly in his blood to really pay more attention than that initial bitching.

"Got our boy's location, if you're not too busy being a B-roll movie star and boss to these low level shits."

"It was the first thing that came to mind, alright? Cut me some slack, I got you in didn't I? And out." She's enjoying the victory too, though. That was a clean execution, cleaner than anything she's ever done. And she can't help but think that the reason is she's not doing this by herself. She had backup to carry them through. "...Nice job picking up the threads. Especially since I didn't actually tell you what the plan was."

Hazard of always working by herself. But that can wait.

"Where? Where is he?" Forget the low level shits.

He puffs up his chest, clearly enjoying the praise despite giving her shit. That was reasonably due, according to him.

"I'm hard boiled-- I always take my cue. Ah, about that-- our princess is in another castle. Not a busy office this time, but a warehouse with all its spoopy goings-on and annoyed guards."

Badou isn't exactly thrilled, seeing as he'd rather face office workers any day, but its something.

"A warehouse, hm?" Why is she not surprised? Shady hotel, shady warehouse, where else would you keep an abducted child? Her expression darkens as she imagines what kind of conditions Frank and potentially other children are being held in.

"They can't get annoyed if they don't know what hit them," she says simply. "What's the address? Let's get a transport."

Its better it isn't a hotel, maybe. Or maybe this is worse-- people can be cattle in a number of places. Less than human, less than goods. He doesn't want to think about it, not until they get there, at least.

"No, they're probably gonna get fucked up," he knows this much, and admits the address readily. "Won't take a bit to get there once we got one."

And its a good thing their papers are in working order or whatever. He starts to lead her towards the prize.

"In a hurry." Elizabeth has no sympathies for the security, even if they aren't directly involved in what was going on. Anybody who let children be exploited because it meant they got a paycheck was the lowest of the low, and had forfeited their right to be treated like a human being. She could put one right between their eyes at close range and she wouldn't lose sleep.

Elizabeth is quiet on the transport, her mind really starting to paint a vivid and stomach-turning picture of what they could be faced with. Truth be told, it's probably an exaggeration, and she knows her mind is telling her stories based on how emotional she is right now, but she's letting it happen. She's getting angry, quiet angry, as she sits next to Badou and sways gently with the motion of the transport.

He, too, tries to concentrate on what's ahead. Tries to get ready, anticipate the worst case scenarios. Being used for fish bait...that'd be pretty bad. Being maimed again, mmm, sounds nice.

(the worst of the worst: it was all for nothing)

It takes him a moment, but after awhile he can practically feel the cloud of despair and rage looming over her. He nudges her with his shoulder, slightly concerned.

"You gonna be alright? Your face'll stay that way, y'know."

Elizabeth sways under the nudge, but blinks out of her running mental commentary. Or doom-and-gloom session-- the latter is probably more accurate. She flashes a fairly forced and brief smile at Badou. "Just thinking."

Does she have to elaborate on what? The two of them could only be thinking about one thing right now, right?

"...I'm not here entirely for him, is the problem," she says after a beat. "And I'm too spent to feel guilty about it."

He hums, swaying slightly.

"I'll tell ya a secret-- same here. And I might be too raw to think otherwise."

Honestly, the entire incident of obtaining this information helped to deaden the thoughts of the past. But now that they have time to think, it twirls and spins in Badou's mind, endlessly.

That's a surprise, honestly. True enough, the whole time they've been running around chasing Frankie, there have been moments where Elizabeth suspected this meant more than just a job to Badou but she hadn't expected that the two of them were experiencing something so similar. She hadn't expected anyone to feel like she did.

"Too raw?" she asks, turning and looking up at Badou.

Suddenly finding himself in the spotlight, he fiddles with anything at hand, which happens to be a thread hanging from his jacket.

"Happened to be on a case like this once upon a time. Didn't turn out too good for me back then...so I can't stop thinking about it. Gotta remember this ain't that one."

Easier said than done.

Elizabeth gives Badou a long look, trying to read between the lines and see why it didn't turn out well. She can't figure it out, the context doesn't provide much for her to go off of and when she tries to look...

It feels wrong. She stops looking and faces forward.

"This won't be that one," she confirms, folding her hands in her lap and straightening her spine resolutely. "I'll make sure of that. We're going to make a happy ending out of this one."

There's no question. They both need it, so that's how it has to turn out.

He needs it so badly. Needs to badly for this world not to be tainted by what happened long ago, too. The past always nips at your heels, but maybe space-time-whatever travel gives you a bit of a break. Maybe it doesn't repeat itself.

"Yeah...yeah, it won't be. Got a trump card this time."

Badou manages a half-assed smile, just a slight tilt of the mouth.

Elizabeth needs some kind of purpose, some reason to be alive aside from the day-to-day grind and the endless hours of normal life. There was a time when she'd wanted nothing but normal, but lately, all of it is too... pointless. She's too lonely, too lost, and if she could just do one thing to make someone's life better, everything would surely be fixed. Surely.

She smirks up at Badou. "You've got me."

Part of him feels better that he's not alone in this feeling, in whatever hard experiences that have tainted their pasts, their futures.

Still he's uneasy.

(even worse, someone like her went through something just as bad...damn reality, but damn travesty)

"That's right. And me, I'm the wild card."

Being stuck in this hum-drum life is great, its normal..it slips through his fingers.

"Together we're fifty cards short of a full deck. That should be their first warning," Elizabeth keeps right on smirking up at him, though maybe she's talking this up a little. There's still so many ways this could go pear-shaped, but she's refusing to consider any scenario to be completely unsalvageable. That's not a thought she needs in her mind right now.

Especially since the transport is slowing down. She looks up and away from Badou. "This is us, isn't it?" They're ready to walk into this-- together. Right?

"Time to knock in some heads and give candy back to a baby," he says by way of an answer. Badou takes one last (never the very last) check of his weapons and ammo, takes a deep shudders breath.

He sure as hell cant lecture any of the kids about danger when he's stepping right into it. He must be getting old.

When they come to a complete stop, his heart's at least made up. Getting to his feet, he leads the way.

Elizabeth notes that he's checking his weapons, and she takes a moment to do the same. Handgun in her bag, check. Fully loaded, check. Clips for reload, check.

She hopes silently that she won't have to reload more than twice. Twenty-seven shots, that's it. Normally she'd have her shotgun or rifle, but carrying that on public transportation was probably frowned upon.

When Badou stands up, she does too, and starts following him. It's a dark and dank area they've stopped in, and nobody else seems to get off at the stop save for them. Elizabeth even notes a few people craning their necks to see who had the spine to stop here of all places. Comforting, really.

She focuses on the walk. There seems to be several warehouses around, each numbered, and Elizabeth glances over all of them wondering grimly if theirs was the only warehouse dealing in hostages or ungodly merchandise or whatever is going on. Finally, Elizabeth spots a guard. All black, hands folded in front, some kind of shoulder holster. Armed, clearly guarding something. She waves Badou behind a dumpster.

"I think we have the place," she mutters, taking a small blowpipe-looking single shot device out of her purse and dropping a bulb with a capped needle on the end into it. "See anybody else around?"

This happens to be the District of shady dealings and murder she didn't get to write because she's dead Jim. The other's must be on holiday or have more conspicuous places or something, for which Badou is grateful.

The dumpster isn't the greatest vantage point, but he holds up a hand for a moment's pause. Sure enough, someone comes patrolling in from the side.

"Maybe one more, could be a second boob at the back."

He takes a moment's interest in her weapon though.

"Don't tell me that's a tranquilizer." That's honestly great. Like a movie or something.

Wow, that was a close one. There's an art to tranq'ing people-- namely if somebody else is around to see it, they just start shooting. Elizabeth lets out a soft, relieved breath once the patrolling guard passes, then nods a thank you to Badou. At least one of them is the cooler head.

"Sure is," she says softly, tilting the weapon around so he can see it. "I'm used to a crossbow-based delivery, but technology has come a bit further here. Only problem is the reload time is ridiculous. If the first shot doesn't hit, you'd better pull out something lethal."

Elizabeth looks around the alley. "But the lethal means are louder." Nothing really, so she's going to burn one of her noisemakers. She pulls the bulb out of the chamber and tucks it between her teeth while reaching into her bag again. Carefully, she pulls out a jingle bell and gently sets it in the chamber. Noisemaker darts didn't require this level of care, but if the thing jingled before it was shot, there was no point at all.

She pulls the hammer back until it clicks and points the thing slightly up and towards an alley on the left. "Get ready," she mutters through the tranquilizer bulb before she pulls the trigger and sends the bell flying across the yard and into another dumpster. Sure enough, the guards turn towards the noise, heads tilted in confusion. That's a strange noise they've never heard before, and they're moving to check it out.

Badou feels even more like he's in a super spy movie or something. He also feels a little underdressed in the sense of gadgets, but someone has to be the gadget person. And it's definitely Elizabeth, as she deserves to be.

He'd probably drop the noisemaker or have lost it or something. Speaking of, once their adversaries move out, Badou takes the lead to the other side of the entrance, fleet of foot and quiet, most of all, quips on the DL for the moment. Thankfully the door doesn't rattle or anything when he softly pries it open to slip inside. At least there are some lights on, dim as they are.

"Real atmosphere."

Too familiar is what she's thinking. The dim light reminds her of Rapture, in that way that puts her whole body on full alert. The tranquilizer gun goes away, and there's a distinct and soft click as Elizabeth pulls back the hammer on her hand cannon and starts prowling forward.

She can hear the sounds of a television, something light with a laugh track, which doesn't help her nerves at all. It's coming from one of the dozen or so makeshift rooms that line the walls of the warehouse-- blue plastic walls with a metal handle, each with a deadbolt. The more she takes in, the more tension she feels right in her gut. She keeps swallowing, but she can't overcome a very sick, tight feeling in her throat. Were all of these rooms... occupied?

They turn a corner and find the television-- it's inside one of the cubes, the door wide open. There's a man sitting in front of it, the light from the show making him nothing but a dark shadow. It takes Elizabeth a moment to realize he has his arm around a child sitting next to him.

Oh shit-- Oh God, oh God, oh God--

Elizabeth can almost feel her control disappearing as she raises her gun, but she can't stop. It's too familiar, and the narrative she's formulating is too fucked up for her to react any other way.

Badou's too occupied by the scene before them to notice she's raising the gun, for a good, long moment, enraptured by the sight, too horrified for the rush of anger that's washing over Elizabeth, about to wash over them all

(like hot lava over tiny towns).

He takes a step forward, his feet carrying him towards their adversary, this sick fuck, and while the kid doesn't look starved or anything, but there are dried teartracks he can see, and he hasn't been taken the best care of--

But when he turns to Elizabeth and sees the stricken look on her face, he pauses.

"Oi..."

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