He is Isaiah. Who are you? ((Indie Megamind RP blog, former DS member. Willing to RP with anyone, but I can't promise this guy'll be friendly on first meeting.)) function preloadFunc() { var ip = userip; var bannedips=[ "95.223.123.208", "217.5.200.154", ] var handleips=bannedips.join("|") handleips=new RegExp(handleips, "i") if (ip.search(handleips)!=-1){ window.location.replace("https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIPXfvt5usw"); document.write('Posts
“It should be.” The smell of water was stronger at least, and it was starting to be audible as well. Despite his earlier mild protest, Isaiah was actually looking forward to cleaning some of it off if only to make it less physically noticeable. Both to him and to Willow, though Argyle would still worry regardless based on what he had learned of the younger changeling.
The water is a welcome sight for Argyle for his own sake, too. He’s not entirely certain how much trolls are meant to drink water, or if they’re even supposed to drink at all, but he doesn’t much relish the idea of asking. Whatever, he feels thirsty, anyway.
He settles on the bank, setting Willow down beside him and dipping his hands into the water. There was one nice thing about this form, the feeling of water running over stone skin was about a hundred times more satisfying.
Keeping an eye on both of them, Isaiah is kneeling on the bank just out of arm's length but close enough to catch them if one tipped forward into the water. Since getting stuck like this he hadn't tested what being actually in water would do, if they would sink or not, but this was hardly the right time.
Dipping his hand in the water, his first thought is to get the bigger parts of the chip cleared away. After would be a closer cleaning; for the moment tipping water over it would suffice.
Argyle not pushing the subject did help, at least making it easier to push aside the fact of his not being used to that concern. Not in this situation. Even before it had caught Isaiah by surprised.
That though was difficult to think about on it’s own, and he brushes those thoughts away for now. “This way,” is all that’s said before Isaiah starts heading in the direction of the closest water source.
Argyle nodded and followed close behind. He preferred being able to switch to all fours at will while traveling, but it didn’t slow him much. He kept careful hold of Willow, of course, glancing every so often to check on her.
The walk there is mostly quiet, the sting of the cut easy for Isaiah to ignore. The itch of the drying blood is more of an irritant, and one that has him picking up his pace. Still, he’s making sure Argyle is able to keep up despite that.
"It should be." The smell of water was stronger at least, and it was starting to be audible as well. Despite his earlier mild protest, Isaiah was actually looking forward to cleaning some of it off if only to make it less physically noticeable. Both to him and to Willow, though Argyle would still worry regardless based on what he had learned of the younger changeling.
“Just go.” He had no reason to hold onto that favor; Isaiah had had more than enough of dealing with anything similar to what was being offered, and he wasn’t interested in dealing with it all again. “And don’t try this again.”
Here at least. Nowhere, if he got lucky.
Laughing nervously, Lucio’s wide eyes gave away how much the situation had actually scared him. “You got it!”
He might not have a choice in the matter, but he’d certainly try his best not to come here, again.
“…Uh, if you could… not mention this whole thing to anybody? I’d appreciate it. I have reputations to maintain.” He’d be ruined if the two sides of his life were to overlap.
At the request Isaiah stays quiet; mentioning this to Amoxtli was going to be necessary, as was letting Ava know. Neither of those plans, however, were going to be shared with Lucio.
For anyone else, of course, keeping silent wouldn’t be an issue as long as word of this didn’t spread. “And you won’t either.” he warns, not wanting this to be heard by the wrong ears.
He’d have to explain himself when he got back, but he would try and be as vague as possible. For his own sake, more than Isaiah’s. This whole mission had been nothing but an embarrassment.
“Well, uh, I’m just… gonna go…” He scampered off down the alley and a few moments later the screech of tires signaled him driving away.
“Just go.” He had no reason to hold onto that favor; Isaiah had had more than enough of dealing with anything similar to what was being offered, and he wasn’t interested in dealing with it all again. “And don’t try this again.”
Here at least. Nowhere, if he got lucky.
Laughing nervously, Lucio’s wide eyes gave away how much the situation had actually scared him. “You got it!”
He might not have a choice in the matter, but he’d certainly try his best not to come here, again.
“…Uh, if you could… not mention this whole thing to anybody? I’d appreciate it. I have reputations to maintain.” He’d be ruined if the two sides of his life were to overlap.
At the request Isaiah stays quiet; mentioning this to Amoxtli was going to be necessary, as was letting Ava know. Neither of those plans, however, were going to be shared with Lucio.
For anyone else, of course, keeping silent wouldn’t be an issue as long as word of this didn’t spread. “And you won’t either.” he warns, not wanting this to be heard by the wrong ears.
With a sigh and very little effort, Isaiah gives Lucio the ability to pull his arm back. He was still prepared to hit the call button of course but not quite as close to it as before. “With what?”
And whatever it was, it sounded like potential trouble.
Lucio yanks his arm away the moment he can, hugging the prosthetic to his chest and examining it. To his relief, it dosn’t seem damaged. Almost strangely undamaged, actually. He kinda expected at least some dents… He must just be lucky.
Letting out a huge breath, he looks at the crack in the door. “I- Thanks, man. I just- I owe you one. A favor. Whatever you want.”
He’s already edging away, more than ready to make good on his promise to get lost. The Devil will punish him, but better to come back a failure than… He’ll get far worse if he has to be sprung out of jail.
“Just go.” He had no reason to hold onto that favor; Isaiah had had more than enough of dealing with anything similar to what was being offered, and he wasn’t interested in dealing with it all again. “And don’t try this again.”
“And you’ll leave, then?” Isaiah asks, the number dialed as his thumb hovers over the ‘call’ button. Frankly given the chance, with his own experience with the police, he’d prefer not to. Though there was at least one here he could say was more trustworthy than the rest.
He hasn’t unstuck Lucio’s arm just yet, wanting to hear that assurance first before possibly doing so.
If he had to… If he really had to… If the cops were on their way and he had no other options… He could take off his arm’s outer armor and leave it. But that was the absolute last resort.
“I’ll go! I swear! No argument, I won’t-” His voice broke as he gulped. “…Just help me. Please. I’m begging you. I’d seriously owe you one, if you let me go.”
With a sigh and very little effort, Isaiah gives Lucio the ability to pull his arm back. He was still prepared to hit the call button of course but not quite as close to it as before. “With what?”
And whatever it was, it sounded like potential trouble.
That reply isn’t what Lucio would have expected, and it actually gives him a moment’s pause. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Any thoughts along these lines leave his head once he peeks through the crack and realizes, A: Isaiah has a phone, and B: he can’t move. His prosthetic fingers must be caught in the door. (It wouldn’t be the first time his arm had gotten stuck like this, so he doesn’t look for other explanations.)
After a moment of increasingly frantic struggling proves fruitless, Lucio is forced to try another strategy.
“…Wait wait wait wait, listen!” His voice betrays his desperation. “I’m- I’m sorry, just- just open the door a little so I can get my arm out? Please? I’ll go and leave you alone, I promise! Don’t call the cops! Please?! Buddy?!”
“And you’ll leave, then?” Isaiah asks, the number dialed as his thumb hovers over the ‘call’ button. Frankly given the chance, with his own experience with the police, he’d prefer not to. Though there was at least one here he could say was more trustworthy than the rest.
He hasn’t unstuck Lucio’s arm just yet, wanting to hear that assurance first before possibly doing so.
Despite Lucio’s posturing, knowing the gun wouldn’t be able to fire makes it easy to keep his instinctive knee jerk startled reaction off his face. Still Isaiah moves again to get the reinforced door between the two of them.
That helps to keep him from letting his amusement over the attempt at slowing the man having worked so well show, too. Regardless, there was still this situation to deal with.
“You can and will. Leave.” With that, the door is mostly closed and being given further shielding.
He’s never gonna make it before the door closes, but that doesn’t stop Lucio from scrambling to his feet and attempting to get there in time.
Which mostly involves him stumbling over more rocks or whatever it is that’s tripping him.
“I can’t, actually! You’ll regret this!”
Oh, he is so not giving this guy his commission business!
He gets there just in time to shove his metal hand in the door. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?!”
“More of one than you seem to.” His response is muffled by the mostly closed door, but still Isaiah takes the given chance to make sure Lucio wouldn’t be able to pull the metal arm free of the door.
The threat was almost laughable in how expected it was. Knowing the blond would be forced to stay put, hopefully, Isaiah already has his cell phone in hand; reaching the security alarm from here was clearly not possible.
“What-” Lucio was deeply perplexed. Nobody had ever been so unbothered by the fact he was armed. “Wait just a minute, mister!”
If Lucio had his way, he’d have swooped up beside Isaiah, shut the door, and cornered him.
That wasn’t what ended up happening, however.
He hardly took a step forward before he tripped on something and took a spectacular fall onto the pavement, flailing and giving a sharp yelp as he went down. His hat flew off and landed in a puddle, along with the rest of him.
“My suit!” he cried. Without missing a beat, he turned his gun on Isaiah. Not trying to fire it, yet, just lining it up. Slower guys than him had been stabbed or shot after a fall like this, after all. “Listen, you! I can’t go back empty-handed!”
His cover was absolutely blown, but Lucio couldn’t face the Devil without getting results.
Despite Lucio’s posturing, knowing the gun wouldn’t be able to fire makes it easy to keep his instinctive knee jerk startled reaction off his face. Still Isaiah moves again to get the reinforced door between the two of them.
That helps to keep him from letting his amusement over the attempt at slowing the man having worked so well show, too. Regardless, there was still this situation to deal with.
“You can and will. Leave.” With that, the door is mostly closed and being given further shielding.
Ah, that explained the rest of this, at least on more than suspicion. “Nobody. Leave.” Isaiah answers shortly, more irritation making it’s way into his voice.
The order request isn’t likely to work, he knew that much, but saying it felt privately helpful.
“Bullshit.” Lucio sets his jaw, silver eyes glinting cold under the hat brim. “You’ve got somebody in your corner. You’ve gotta, or you wouldn’t talk like this. Come on. Just give me a name, and I’ll leave you alone. The Devil isn’t a patient man, and neither am I, but we do reward people who help us.”
A winning smirk crosses his face as he adds a little honey to his vinegar. “You look like a smart man. Surely, you can see what side your bread’s buttered on.”
“There isn’t anyone.” Isaiah repeats, annoyance rising. “And there is no need for your offer.” It didn’t seem Lucio was going to listen, of course, and making sure the man wasn’t able to step closer was his next goal.
To that end, he’s focusing his power on blocking Lucio’s path to the door in a way that wouldn’t be immediately seen.
Ignoring the familiar feel of nearby metal isn’t working, clearly, as it’s more than obvious what that metal is. Eyes narrowing, Isaiah is thankful one of his hands is hidden from view by the door as he makes sure it’s less of a threat.
“And those would be?” For good measure, he’s reinforcing the inside of the door and partly stepping behind it as well.
Oblivious, Lucio still believes he has the upper hand as he squints at Isaiah. He doesn’t point his weapon at him, because he doesn’t think he needs to. People usually listen to a guy with a gun, he’s learned.
“Who sold you protection?” He isn’t mincing words anymore. “My boss will want to know who’s horning in on our turf.”
Ah, that explained the rest of this, at least on more than suspicion. “Nobody. Leave.” Isaiah answers shortly, more irritation making it’s way into his voice.
The order request isn’t likely to work, he knew that much, but saying it felt privately helpful.
“Measures have already been taken.” There’s some warning in Isaiah’s voice as he turns his head just enough to keep an eye on Lucio, warring with annoyance and amusement.
The want to completely refuse the man’s order at this point was more than tempting, and even with Isaiah’s muted emoting his irritation is clear.
There’s definitely another gang involved, Lucio can’t imagine another explanation for this answer.
(He’s aware that the population of this city is diverse and, occasionally, very powerful, but he isn’t thinking about that. Why would somebody with super powers or magic or anything be running an ordinary store? It isn’t even a possibility in his head, right now.)
His eyes harden as his hand tightens around the grip. “…I’m sure you won’t mind if I ask you a couple questions.” He starts to draw his gun.
Ignoring the familiar feel of nearby metal isn’t working, clearly, as it’s more than obvious what that metal is. Eyes narrowing, Isaiah is thankful one of his hands is hidden from view by the door as he makes sure it’s less of a threat.
“And those would be?” For good measure, he’s reinforcing the inside of the door and partly stepping behind it as well.
“None of that is a worry.” And none of this was anything near the level Isaiah had lived through; he wasn’t about to discount that Lucio considered the consequences a threat, but it was what he considered a low level one.
With that thought he considers simply closing the door and leaving, already partly turning away to do just that.
Lucio raises his head a little to look at Isaiah in astonishment, blinking. This isn’t in the script. There’s no “no thanks, I’m good” in the script!
“…W-wait.” Lucio’s hand automatically slips into his pocket, palm on his gun. “I don’t think you’re getting it. Something really bad could happen to you, if you don’t take these measures against it!”
“Measures have already been taken.” There’s some warning in Isaiah’s voice as he turns his head just enough to keep an eye on Lucio, warring with annoyance and amusement.
The want to completely refuse the man’s order at this point was more than tempting, and even with Isaiah’s muted emoting his irritation is clear.
This is a… calmer reaction than he expected. Maybe their group isn’t the first to approach the shop. The Devil won’t be happy, if that’s the case. This is the very edge of their turf, but he doesn’t like people testing their borders.
Lucio clears his throat, hands in his white suit pockets. When he speaks, it’s in a much lower, quieter, more serious tone than the last time. “I represent someone who’s worried about your welfare.”
This is more or less a typical script. Lucio’s keeping his panic over possibly being recognized in check by keeping things as routine and impersonal as he can.
He’d tried to explain his identity might be compromised if he did this job, but… Well, the Devil would’ve wanted to know why he wasn’t using his regular allowance for the jewelry if he’d mentioned it, and Lucio really doesn’t want to explain about his weekend plans. His boss often gets weird when Lucio mentions plans that take him out of town, even if it’s only for a day or two.
So here is he, trying to stay on task, hiding his blush in the semi-darkness, and mentally repeating don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious…
Well. That was a first. Isaiah’s silence at first is that of disbelief before he brushes off what Lucio very obviously means. Whoever the blond man worked for, they clearly weren’t aware enough to be considered a threat yet. “There’s no need for that.”
He had more than enough ability between himself, Ava, and Amoxtli to keep an eye on the shop after all. Along with Alexi’s gift, the all hours security of that something he kept most from knowing about.
Lucio’s half hidden expression is one of confusion. No need for it? Either Isaiah isn’t as smart as he thought he was, or he’s right about him already taking another offer.
“…I think maybe you don’t understand what my employer is offering you,” he continues smoothly, pretending everything is going to plan. “You run a legitimate business, here, and we’d hate to see anything happen to it. We’re making you a special limited time offer on a sort of proactive insurance. We can protect you from fire, theft, harassment, vandalism… Everything. It’s a really good deal, if you ask me.”
“None of that is a worry.” And none of this was anything near the level Isaiah had lived through; he wasn’t about to discount that Lucio considered the consequences a threat, but it was what he considered a low level one.
With that thought he considers simply closing the door and leaving, already partly turning away to do just that.
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