#smoke omen

[aces-and-kings]

❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜ - Smoke.

Thor sat at a worn wooden table in the dimly lit tavern of The Forgotten Knight. He was lost in his thoughts, when Smoke, weary but resolute, approach him. His eyes were filled with an unspoken sympathy, and determination, having followed Thor from the laboratory. "I need to make something clear. I'm not afraid of you", Smoke confessed, no doubt trying to assure the brute after the scene he'd just witnessed with the doc's demise. It was a surprising admission and Thor, rather than address it with a proper reply, slid the tin of cigarettes across the table. Watching the other man, his eyes narrowed, curiosity mingling with caution. "Is tha so?", he asked with a heavy exhale, a cloud of smoke spreading out across the surface between them. "An why should Ah care if yer afraid of meh or no'?" Smoke smirked and settled onto a seat. "'Cause people like hiring me to kill you. Popular guy, that you are." He claimed a cigarette out of the tin and lit it with the flame on the table lantern between them. "With a bit of motivation, I might be convinced to repay your kindness in getting my ass out of that cage by burying those marks." It was all too familiar a situation. Differences, abound, but the same at its core. Suddenly Thor's jaw clinched, as light reflected off a glint of stone secured around the other's man's neck. Given the odd circumstances he was already on edge and reached across the table to take the necklace, snatching it from Smoke's possession. How in the Seven Hells had this son of a bitch wound up with Viper's keepsake? "Ah assume ye'll have meh believe this is coincidence?", he asked, at war with himself as to whether he wanted to strangle the man or interrogate him further.

They locked eyes for a moment, the tension between them hanging in the air like stink on shit. He gave no time to explain, rising from the table and taking his tin along with him. "Our paths diverge 'ere. Better luck wit yer next jab, ay?" Thor's cigarette was dropped in the drink only just delivered by the barkeep, leaving the Ishgardian dumbfounded, a hand extended, still expecting payment.

Smoke watched Thor depart, a storm of conflicting emotions raging within him. The weight of their disagreement left behind felt like an unbearable pressure. A palpable rift. "Right. Shame about those marks standing." He dropped a few coins in the waiter's hand and ordered a new ale.

@thedarknesssings thank you for the prompt!

[aces-and-kings]

Locked in Shadows: An Rp Summary

During this rp Thor enters the lab where he finds Smoke locked in a cell. Smoke informs him that the doc is sadistic and has been torturing a man to death. Thor is shocked to discover that the lifeless body lying on the table is his dear friend Red, and the victim of Semex's experimentation.

The doc's actions infuriate Thor, and he decides to take matters into his own hands. After going to retrieve serum intended for Thor, Semex returns to Smoke throwing a shiv at him, causing a serious injury, but sparing Thor from the doc's injection of doom. Thor then confront Semex, venting his anger and seeking revenge. Smoke suggests brutal methods of torture and Thor readily agrees.

As Semex's suffering intensifies, Thor's emotions become a mix of grief and rage. The doc realizes his impending demise and takes his own life with a cyanide capsule. This leaves Thor contemplating the consequences of his actions and the haunting memories Semex has left behind.

With the ordeal behind them, Thor walks away without engaging in further conversation with Smoke. After retrieving his belongings, Smoke tails Thor to a nearby tavern, The Forgotten Knight, to seek solace in alcohol. Thor's thoughts are unraveling as he struggles to process the events that transpired in the lab.

[aces-and-kings]

Trust Me, I'm a Doctor...

The museum's halls had an unusual scent to them. There was a stagnance in the air on account of how many days her doors had remained closed to the public. It'd been the perfect place to meet the hand that would get dirty in his stead. Or so he'd thought. Semex decided at first sight that the duskwight who'd shown to tie up his lose ends was far too inferior to be successful in doing so. He'd quickly suggested a relocation under the guise of showing Smoke first hand where he might find Thor, the intended target. As they walked and talked it occurred to the not-so good doctor that he couldn't very well let the stranger leave now. Allowing him to attempt the job would result in failure, and cancelling the job might have equally undesirable consequences. The only viable solution was to utilize the man as a subject.

He then took Smoke to The Hourglass, feigning social etiquette and interest in seeing the job being done right. When all attempts at drugging the man had failed through hospitable means the Doc had had little choice but to force the sedative with an injection as the assassin tried to depart.

Smoke had hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, and after his assistant, Vyctoria, had locked up the shop, she stripped the man of all of his possessions and saw him to a cell in the laboratory. Semex would have to find another means of dealing with Thor, but brainstorming that dilemma was set aside as he first went to the city-guards to inform them of a suspicious garlean in the Museum's company. He'd almost let Grey slip past his attention, but Ishgard's finest were nothing if not willing to thoroughly inspect each and every outsider. Returning back to his laboratory, the doc curiously observed his newest test subject. From the operating table across the room, Red scowled, golden hues narrowing with murderous intent. "Lone ain't gonna let ya live after this. You know that right?", the outlaw asked the back of the doc's head. "You turn us loose and get gone. Maybe you a chance." There was no reply. Semex turned and left the room without another word. Behind him Red raged like a chocobo bound in the corral, anxious for the impending brand. "Twelve damn you, Doc! You hear me!? Twelve damn you!!" His exertion resulted in a coughing fit that spat blood across himself and the floor alike. Not that it bothered the doc in the slightest. That's what the tile was for after all.