|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Sept 22, 2013 22:50:36 GMT -8
Dominic must have checked his personal handguns two to three times each before stowing them out of sight, and out of mind. He didn’t think he would need them, but he didn’t dare leave them behind either. The conversation this morning factored into his behavior, yes, but not half as much as the records the Society had dredged up on this Darrin Moore. Or, “Moose,” supposedly. There was a note of that in the file—most people in prison had given him that nickname, and apparently, he answered more readily to it. Whether it was true or not, didn’t matter. Darrin “Moose” Moore worked for a specialized body guarding agency, the very same one Dominic was contracted out to serve when the occasion struck him, and given Moore’s past criminal record, that didn’t exactly sit well, regardless of how well behaved he’d been over the last few years. Even more importantly, a few of the paper pushers at work were unnecessarily nervous about the situation, as if they had overlooked this issue and were now desperately attempting to fix their mistake through Dominic before Arcturus, or Giovanni, realized the error.
Dominic shoved the last of his weapons away and glanced in his rear view. His most capable one—his favorite—was Sasha. She lay across the floor of the SUV, stored carefully in a cardboard box instead of the hardback cello case he usually carried her in. For reasons—it’d look like he was delivering a package, not too uncommon at the agency, actually. He drove carefully for her sake though, and carried her over his shoulder when he entered the building. Dominic already had an excuse to be there. He had a new contract to sign and complete soon, which forced him to be at the office anyway. They were desperate enough that nobody even bothered to ask questions about his offer to take a job so suddenly, not like they usually did. However, by the time he arrived, the boss could barely steal a moment to talk. The phones were ringing, and an important call had come in.
“Marsten! Good to see you. Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got to talk to you about this contract. Just let me take this phone call first.”
Dominic didn’t even smile. “Fair enough. Interesting, what you've done around here. Place is looking empty,” he remarked. His arm tightened around Sasha and the long, cardboard box she was hidden in. Any other time, the boss might have frowned at that comment and given his employee a well deserved glare, but he couldn’t afford to. He was running out of employees. Instead he waved him off, told him to go down the hall and grab a cup of coffee if he needed it for the wait; there were a few other employees he could talk to as well, hanging around the place. Dominic took the advice, and surprisingly enough, tensed just outside a break room doorway when he spotted the person from all those photos he had scrounged through earlier: Darrin “Moose” Moore.
Dominic’s brow furrowed slightly before he walked in, washing the immediate aggravation away. The records hadn’t lied—this man might as well have been the Juggernaut himself. The bodyguard business definitely suited a guy that big, and Dominic was fairly tall too. Tall or not, however, Moore might as well have been a tank.
“Don’t think we’ve met,” Dominic said automatically, by way of greeting. He didn’t care too much if he startled the guy or not. But just the same, it was his job to find out exactly how much of a threat this man was. “Heard about you, though. Moose…isn’t it? It’s been a while since I’ve been back at the agency. Dominic,” he offered, still toting Sasha around over his shoulder. Thus far, no one had cared he was carrying some sort of package around. Dominic lifted a hand to his face and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. The grotesque scar on this guy's face was much more noticeable in person than in the photos, but it didn't seem to bother Dominic at all.
He'd seen much worse, actually.
Time Stamp: May 8th, morningish
Notes: 600+ some odd words, but only because of summarizing. If the date or time needs to be changed, we can change it though. No big. Just wasn't sure what was a good date for Moose.
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Sept 24, 2013 18:16:22 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: may 8th, morning.notes: notes. Moose did not have guns. That much pretty much went without saying--he was a man with a criminal history that would have prevented him from getting any legally, and he was making an active attempt to not end up back in jail. If anyone ever caught him with a gun, he'd be back behind bars so fast his head would spin, and there was no way he was doing it. He wasn't ever going back.
Which meant that while the two men had the same profession, they were on much different sides of the same profession. Dominic was professional. He had training. He didn't look terribly intimidating, but he had all the skills to back up what intimidation factor he did have. Moose, on the other hand, was a much different story. He looked intimidating. He looked like the sort of man who could lay you flat in one swing of his arm, all bulk and muscle. Unfortunately, he had no real training. What fighting he could do was quick and dirty, taking advantage of his size. Against someone with training, he really didn't have a chance unless he somehow managed to force them into extremely close ranged combat, and even then, it was going to be up in the air.
It meant that while Dominic got jobs that might be actually dangerous, Moose got jobs where looking big was important. Minor celebrities, where keeping paparazzi and fans away was more of a priority then actually protecting them. He provided extra muscle and security, using his size to deter people from making any sort of trouble. That had been the job he was on at the mansion--to stand around and look intimidating.
Instead it had ended much differently, and he'd been the only one of the guards to get out.
It had never occurred to Moose to ask his boss about what had happened. He'd never been asked any questions about it, and he had a good enough understanding of what had happened. He had aura for that, and while she had never been terribly forthcoming, it really didn't matter, because Moose wasn't the kind of guy who cared for details. He cared for the general picture, and the general picture was enough for him--it wasn't about him, or the mansion itself. It was because that guy had caught Magnus, and everything else had been coincidence.
Good enough for him. Aura went almost everywhere with him, and that day was no different. He was sitting in a chair, squinting at a contract. It was almost pointless. His reading comprehension was garbage, and a huge part of the contract was a mess of legalese that the average person couldn't read, let alone Moose. He didn't even know why he was bothering, and his head snapped up when someone spoke to him.
He squinted at the man for a moment, not recognizing him at all, and finally stood when he decided he was clearly someone new, just as the man had said. He gave a little nod, confirming what he'd said. It didn't surprise Moose that the guy--Dominic--had heard of him. He was a pretty distinct guy. He towered over him, even though Dominic was the type to tower over others, and he looked down at him, giving a little nod.
"Don't think we have. Only been workin' here like... two weeks?" He wasn't very good at dates at all, and it was really a little over a week. "Guess you already know my name, so not much of an introduction needed for me. You been here long?"
Of course, he was having the whole conversation with a hand sized blue dragonfly sitting on his shoulder, wings fluttering occasionally as she watched the man talking to Moose.
|
|
|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Sept 25, 2013 19:42:51 GMT -8
“On and off for years,” Dominic replied. “I volunteer for contracts more often than I’m told to do them.” He was impressed he had to look up, even a little, in order to speak with Moore, but before they could continue, Dominic turned away to make himself a cup of cheap coffee. A machine was set up nearby, and as he turned it on and grabbed an empty cup, he mulled over his approach carefully. “There was one job in particular that I didn’t bother to take, recently,” he began slowly. “You could say it’s been bugging me,” he said. “Nobody’s talking.” Dominic kept his tone level and serious, so much so that with his back turned, it was impossible to tell he was smiling. His body language hinted at a deep irritation that coupled with his words a little too well. He’d read the reports on that incident—he knew about the questions that had been asked of the survivors and he was well aware of some of the things that had attacked that mansion. However, when Dominic faced Moore again, the smile wasn’t there. There was a sudden, believable frustration in his gaze. He wore that mask excellently, with a slight flicker of something else—feigned curiosity, perhaps—flickering below the surface. Light glistened off his lenses.
He was a good actor.
“Some money greaser was looking to hire a few men to keep a lookout and watch the crowds on his estate.” Even if, at the moment, that mansion was no longer ‘there’. “A friend of mine—” Dominic paused momentarily, noticing a shadow of movement over Moore's shoulder. It could have been the twitch of a wing or the slight scuttle of a leg, maybe even the way the light bounced off the exoskeleton, but either way, the pause drew itself out when he finally realized what he was looking at.
Was that. Was that a dragonfly?
It almost made him stumble. Almost. Dominic’s gaze flicked between Moore and the bug as he spoke, albeit slower than before, his brow furrowing more and more as seconds ticked by. Those compound eyes looked almost iridescent when the light struck them. Not normal, a thought growled in his head. “A friend of mine accepted that contract," he said instead. "I—” his hand tightened over the cardboard box Sasha was in, still glancing at that bug with an intensely lethal edge in his gaze. Dominic was pretty damn sure dragonflies were not supposed to get that big. Especially not here, anyway. And it kept staring at him. He resisted the urge to grit his teeth or reach for it.
That thing can't be normal.
“—I had hoped to hear something about what happened,” he managed. “And I—“ There was another pause and this time, Dominic’s brow twitched. His entire arm now seemed to tighten around the long, cardboard box slung over his shoulder. Oh god dammit. He’d be putting a lot of nickels in his own swear jar later just for thinking it. “—I’m sorry,” he breathed, completely throwing out what he wanted to say, reaching up to rub his temple, aggravated. He couldn’t pretend anymore. “Moose. There is a dragonfly on your shoulder about the size of my fist.”
Time Stamp: May 8th
Notes: Dominic is just casually peering back at that thing, very aware that it is there. xD
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Sept 25, 2013 20:00:24 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: date and time.notes: notes. Really, Dominic didn't need to be a good actor. While Moose was pretty good at telling when someone was about to jump him, or when someone had bad intentions, when someone was actually acting he was utterly atrocious at seeing through it. If he'd been slightly less jaded and slightly less poor, he'd probably have been swindled out of a good deal of money. As it was, he had no money to give and little tolerance for beggars, so he'd done just fine.
So while, by and large, he was buying what Dominic was saying, that didn't mean Dominic was going to get a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. Moose wasn't a terribly empathetic person, and he mostly just listened while Dominic went through the whole deal. He wasn't even half done and Moose was already relatively sure of what he was going to say. It wasn't precognition--it was simply the only possible reason he could be giving the whole story. His friend was missing, no one was talking, and that was that.
Moose raised an eyebrow of his own at the abrupt stops and starts, genuinely confused as to what was causing it. To him, the dragonfly was simply a normal part of life. He'd spent more then a week with it for almost twenty four hours a day every day, and if there was one thing he was good at, it was adapting to crap like that. When Dominic finally felt the need to point out the dragonfly was there, rubbing at his temple, Moose let out a little snort.
"Yep. She's up there alright." He commented, and then abruptly moved forward as if that explained everything. "Hate to be the barer of bad news." He was really using it as more of a phrase, because he wasn't terribly sympathetic about the whole thing. "But you should probably count him as dead. Better you don't know much past that." He offered with a shrug. |
|
|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Sept 25, 2013 20:39:05 GMT -8
"Right," he said flatly.
Just like that? Dominic was expected to ignore the giant, abnormal dragonfly, just like that? For once in his life, could he not have a simple, straight forward mission to complete with nothing weird about it at all? Just. Once? To drown out an answering growl, he lifted his coffee and took a heavy drink, washing the aggravation down with a strong dose of bitterness, resisting the urge to do or say something he’d regret. There was something wrong with this guy, Moore. Such a simple, blatant response.
Yep. She’s up there alright.
Arcturus must have handed down this mission. She must have; it seemed like something she’d do to get on his nerves. She was probably laughing about it right now in fact, well aware that Moore and this whole incident weren't all that important, actually.
Focus, Dominic thought. Just get the information and get out and shove that report exactly where it belongs when this is all over.
“I figured that out not long after it happened,” he said, attempting to ignore the stupid bug sitting on Moose’s shoulder, lowering his cup again. He was still partially glaring too, mostly annoyed with that dragonfly. “In this line of work if you don’t show up again almost a week later, you’re either horribly maimed in the hospital or dead. The latter was the obvious conclusion. He wasn’t the only one to disappear after that incident.” Again, Dominic resumed the frustrated tone, but it was much more accurate than before. Honestly, he had to keep ignoring that thing, making promises to write a note about its existence later, because this discussion was much more important. Moore’s knowledge—or lack thereof, either or—was the only reason he was here. “I’m not looking for sympathy, Moose, or even vengeance or help with the whole thing. Friend or not, everyone dies. What I want is an answer. I want the how.”
He dared to take another drink of his coffee, mostly to distract himself from Moose’s pet again. Dominic refused to accept that bug as part of the conversation right now. He’d deal with it, and the stupid staring contest it wanted to have with him, later. “Rumor has it, you were there. You saw something, you had to have seen something,” he growled out. “For the sake of my own peace of mind, I need the truth. Not your pity or any lies.” His gaze hardened, refusing to budge. “I haven’t been in this business that long to be babied about gory details. The press is all over the place about it, the witnesses have gone quiet. I don’t give a flying rat’s ass—” another one to the swear jar for the sake of this ridiculous mission, the things he sacrificed for the Impedio Society, “—about which story everyone else believes, I want to hear it from you. You had the same job he did. What happened?”
Time Stamp: May 8th
Notes: xD He's trying so hard to ignore it.
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Sept 25, 2013 21:47:49 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: date and time.notes: notes. Moose shrugged. Of course, Moose shrugging was a tad more obvious then it was when the average person shrugged. Moose shrugging looked like a mountain had decided to move, and the fact that there was an extremely obvious blue dragonfly on his shoulder made it all the more obvious. "Probably didn't even have the same job as him. I was just there to look big. You seem actually professional." Which was fairly obvious after a quick glance. Moose looked big, and thus it was more likely he was hired for his size. Dominic didn't look imposing, and thus it became more obvious he was hired for his skill. It didn't take a genius to realize what Dominic had been hired for.
"I'm not the lying type, so I'm not going to bullshit ya. I'll be fuckin' blunt as hell. Bad shit happened. They're dead. It's safer for you and anyone you care about to not ask about it, because if you do ask about it, some not so nice shit is going to come your way." The way he phrased it, it sounded suspiciously like Moose was talking about the Impedio Society itself. In fact, he was talking about Magnus--largely oblivious to the existence of the Impedio Society, beyond that someone was covering stuff up. He wasn't concerned about them so much as the massive bug that had threatened to devour him, whose spawn rode around on his shoulder.
|
|
|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Sept 25, 2013 22:34:05 GMT -8
This was going nowhere fast. Dominic forced himself to gulp down more coffee, mostly to keep from saying anything for a few seconds while he thought this out. That’s how stressful this situation was. He didn’t even like coffee, at least not this cheap crap! But he needed to do something to keep both of his hands occupied, one on Sasha, and one on the cup, because if he didn’t, Moore—or more accurately, Moore’s dragonfly, which wouldn’t stop looking at him—would probably be on the receiving end of his frustration. Finally, he finished drinking and crushed the cup in his hands, tossing it half-hazardly at a nearby trash bin. If Moore knew more than he was letting on, he was either too nice to talk about it, or playing dumb on purpose. And in all honesty, Dominic could not tell which it was. Thus far Moore had been very blunt and simple minded with his replies really. Though Dominic was curious about that comment on the trouble that would follow if Moore spoke about it.
Was he talking about the Society?
That was the first thought that surfaced in Dominic’s mind, anyway. He couldn’t tell if that was right; Dominic wasn’t usually on cleanup duty. The Society was thorough though, he knew that much, and most people never noticed, or rather, they wrote their suspicions off. Doubt and common sense, a weakness and a strength in the human nature, seemed to be their biggest allies when it came to incidents like what happened with the mansion. There were always witnesses that slipped through the cracks and overcame their self doubts or ignored the common sense arguments of their peers, but they rarely had any impact on society itself; their mad raving about cover-ups and conspiracies were dismissed as abject paranoia and attention mongering. But this was different. Once again Moore said it so simply after just refusing to go into any gory details. It wasn’t fear in his voice either, or even panic. It just was. No raving madman spoke like that.
“I’d argue I could handle it,” he finally said. “But you aren’t joking, are you.” Not a question, but a statement. “What are you getting at, Moose? That you’re afraid Big Brother will swoop in the minute you say something, because he’s always listening? A bit paranoid, isn’t it?” He snorted. "You make it sound as if some of the party goers that were interviewed for the tabloids were right. I had assumed it was a hit job, nothing more and nothing less." Again, Dominic paused, his brow furrowing, gaze shifting. The insect on Moore's shoulder had moved and inadvertently drawn his attention. Again. “…and how did you train that dragonfly to just sit there all day. Doesn’t that thing ever fly away?” That bug was so going to have a report written up on it. Dominic had no idea what it could do, but it was definitely not a normal insect, and there would be research done because of it.
Notes: That dragonfly is so on his shit list just because it stares at him. xD Poor thing.
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Sept 26, 2013 8:35:14 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: date and time.notes: notes. In truth, neither bit of Dominic's speculation was correct. Moose wasn't playing dumb--he was dumb, the unfortunate byproduct of a large amount of brain damage. There wasn't any acting, or really any beating around the bush. Moose was simply telling him exactly what he knew. He wasn't trying to hide it all to be sneaky, but instead out of simple self preservation instinct. Magnus had said he wasn't supposed to tell people about him, and as much as he liked Aura, he really didn't doubt she'd report back if he did. So he wasn't--he wasn't going to talk about the giant bug that had threatened to eat him, and he was going to actively encourage the guy to not ask about it in the future.
Not that there was anyone else who could have told him. As much as he was confident that his boss had been paid (or threatened) into being quiet on the issue, the fact remained that he didn't know what Moose knew. He didn't know about Magnus, or about what had really happened to those people--he only knew that they'd gone to the mansion and never returned, which was a good deal less then what Moose knew.
"You can't handle it." Moose interjected, entirely confident in that. He really didn't think any human could handle Magnus. Maybe an entire army, but not a single human. Not even one with a big gun and a lot of preparation. Bullets simply bounced off Magnus like soap bubbles, and Moose wasn't going to send anyone else after him.
Moose did not have to think that big brother was watching, because he knew they were. Or she was, anyway, because she was perched on his shoulder. He paused, then gave a little shrug, the dragonfly going up and down with a flutter of her wings. "Yeah, more or less. Don't really give a shit if it sounds crazy." Because no matter how it sounded, he knew he was right. "Dunno what the people who got out said. Don't really read that shit."
And of course, the man had looped right back to the dragonfly. Some people stared but never asked, but apparently Dominic was intent on asking. He was like the girl in the alley--just not able to shut up about it, no matter how many questions he answered. "Yeah, she flies away sometimes. SHe's like a pet." He offered with a shrug. When she flew away, it was both relief and a worry. There was no way to tell what was happening to her or what she was reporting back, and there was no way of knowing if Magnus was going to burst out of the ground wherever he happened to be sleeping that night. |
|
|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Sept 27, 2013 23:05:22 GMT -8
I think I hate my job. Or I hate people. Possibly both. Dominic fought the urge to make another cup of coffee and guzzle it down. Definitely both, he reaffirmed, staring irritably at Moore’s dragonfly and only half listening to some of the things the man said. This entire conversation was about as successful as a one legged man in ass kicking contest. Dominic fully expected to take some Tylenol later to cool the headache it would leave him with, followed up promptly with a visit to the gun range and the combat facilities to vent his frustration before writing up his report. He could remember, vaguely, reading about some sort of accident in Moore’s file, before he went to prison. He half wondered if it had left the poor guy almost brain dead. Okay, fine. Maybe not brain dead but slightly—damaged. Dominic should have read the full report, but this wasn’t meant to be the sort of thing that required that kind of intensive study; now, instead he was left to stand there, nodding vaguely to everything Moore said and waiting for a chance to reply.
“Ah, but you got out just fine, didn’t you?” Dominic pressed. “Can’t have been all that big and bad, Moose, if you’re still in one piece. Why leave anyone alive, if that was the case?” In truth, Dominic did not care whether or not he could have handled the situation. Frankly, no experienced Hunters in the Society were always, 100% of the time, capable of tackling a monster on their own. Most of the time it was suicide to do so, and it didn’t bruise his pride to admit it. He was skilled enough to deal with almost anything that came his way, but damn it, he needed to hear details from this man otherwise some of those paper pushers back at work were going to have a fit because of their little error. That wasn’t all they had to worry about either. At the rate this was going, Dominic was going to strangle the life out of every single one of them.
“You seem like a good guy, Moose. I’ll take your word for it. But it does beg the question as to why, or how, you managed to get out and why the others couldn’t.” He glanced at the dragonfly once, then back at Moore again. Again, he felt like he was talking to a brick wall, and going nowhere for it.
Time Stamp: May 8th
Notes: Lol. Frustrated Dominic is frustrated. xD
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Sept 28, 2013 8:19:01 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: date and time.notes: notes. It had been all that big and bad. He'd lived by virtue of the bugs mercy, not because of any skill of his own, and he had no illusions about that. He was fairly confident he could have killed a few bugs on his way out, but Magnus was a much different story, and if he'd chosen not to let them live, he'd have killed every single human without pause. The talking done by him and the government guy (who was probably involved in the cover up, now that he thought about it) had saved them, and it had helped them all get out alive.
Or most of them get out alive.
"Luck." He answered simply. "You don't wanna know more then that. 'Cuz one day, if you ever find out what the fuck I was talking about, you'll stand there and you'll go 'well fuck, he was right, I was better off not knowing." He gave a little nod, then reached up to, of all things, pet the dragonfly gently down it's back the way one would a pet bird. The dragonfly didn't even seem to mind. "Knowing puts a target on your back. Knowin' means that things have an interest in shutting you the fuck up, and it's better not to have that at all."
And that was that for Moose. He'd already decided he'd just change the subject if Dominic brought it up again. Of course, Moose changing the subject was less like the average person deflecting a question and more like a hammer blow to the subject. He wasn't subtle about it, and he'd simply talk over any relevant questions to discuss other things. He was quite intent on not putting Dominic in any danger by telling him, and he wasn't going to let anything stop him in that goal. If Dominic had an issue? Well, that was just too bad for him, wasn't it? Moose was sticking to his guns on that one. |
|
|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Sept 28, 2013 20:15:49 GMT -8
Scratch that. It would be more productive to talk to a brick wall right now than ask Moore anything. Dominic was reaching a point where he began to realize that yes, this man had probably, maybe, more than likely suffered some sort of brain trauma in that accident. Which yes, was unfortunate. But extremely aggravating. As considerate as Moore was, most people at this point would get the hint: that Dominic did not care about whether or not Moore thought he could handle it; he just wanted the information. That’s it. Nothing else. Forget all the paranoid big brother crap—which was ironically true. He just. Needed. Some details. Unfortunately, that did not seem to be getting through at all. Dominic would find it much more satisfying to retreat to a corner and bang his head against the wall than get an answer out of this man. In fact, the harder he pushed, the more adamant Moore became. What was with the petting the dragonfly too, right when Moore brought up—again—what a stupid idea it was to ask questions about the mansion? Was that proof that the dragonfly was somehow involved?
…
God help him, he was beginning to become paranoid about that bug and it was unintentionally, all Moore’s fault. Ignore the bug. Just. Get through this and ignore it, a thought urged. Fine. He’d focus more on the task at hand, but Dominic had the distinct feeling that soon he was going to have to call it quits. Or that Moore, if he ever did talk, would say something vague that would just make him pause for a long moment and squint at them both until he quietly turned and left the room.
Dominic snorted. “Wouldn’t that require someone in this room tell someone else what was said? Being overheard is one thing. But really. Short of you, and I, who in this room—” and there was no one in this room but them, “would say anything at all? Just humor me on that one, Moose.”
Notes: I have this feeling. xD That Moose is gonna say something at some point that is just gonna make Dominic go "...Done." And he'll just leave, because wat. xD
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Sept 28, 2013 20:36:01 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: date and time.notes: notes. Moose's very first idea was to pick up the dragonfly, set her on the man's shoulder, and have her talk. That would certainly have answered all his questions, but it probably would also have given him a heart attack. He'd done it once before, and that one time had not had a good outcome. It had nearly ended in him punching someone half his size in the face, and he wasn't at all eager to do that again.
Plus it was a tad on the drastic side. Really, there had to be a way to get the guy to realize what was going on without doing that, wasn't there? Of course there was. Moose paused, then gave Dominic a firm stare.
"They would. They've got eyes and ears everywhere." He stated, tilting his head towards the dragonfly as he lifted his shoulder a bit in what was perhaps the world's most obvious 'I am talking about the dragonfly on my shoulder' gesture.
So obvious that not even Aura was fooled.
You're not supposed to tell people about Dad. She reminded him, not sounding terribly threatening. It wasn't as if it was the first time Moose had told someone, but Aura was wise enough to realize that no one was ever going to believe Moose, and that his heart was more or less in the right place. It wasn't as if he was trying to start an uprising against her dad or anything--he was just looking out for people.
"Oh. Sorry." He mumbled in response, seemingly to no one. |
|
|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Sept 28, 2013 21:42:53 GMT -8
…
He knew it.
And yet, Dominic blinked at the weird ass interaction that had just happened in front of him, as if it could not possibly have taken place, his back rigid, shoulders squared. Nope. It just could not happened. Why? Because that would be remarkably stupid, that’s why. So stupid, in fact, that it might as well have been a big joke, set up to purposely feed the growing paranoia Dominic felt about that bug. Moore simply did not just implicate that dragonfly as a spy, and he did not just apologize to it, mumbling his shame a moment later, as if it had scolded him for slip. That little bug was not a major player in what had happened in the mountains. The inexplicable pause that followed, of Dominic standing there, processing this information, the universal ‘does not compute’ moment passing over his face, must have lasted a good two to three minutes. His expression was utterly devoid of emotion as his brain worked to wrap itself around this, examining it from all angles. Yet it always came to the same conclusion: that Moore didn’t correct himself and the dragonfly didn’t attempt anything other than twitch its wing and stare back.
Just—
What.
Why?
The ‘does not compute’ had begun to fade at that point, and yet, boomeranged back with a vengeance. He opened his mouth once to say something, and then promptly closed it again. There were no words. It began to occur to him that yes, that had happened, and he had witnessed it. It was not going away. So. Dominic finally seemed to snap out of the trance that had overtaken him at this thought. He quietly raised his hand to his face and removed his glasses. He walked calmly over to the nearby table, stole one of the many cheap napkins set out nearby with the coffee cups, and began to wipe them clean. Maybe there had been something wrong with his glasses this whole time, but when he put them back on and looked back at Moore again, that dragonfly was still there, sitting on his shoulder. Wow. This would be incredibly frustrating if he actually cared about anything right now. His brow began to furrow, the first few signs that Dominic’s brain had begun to finally digest all of this and was rapidly attempting to return him to his normal state of mind. It was likely a good thing that light flooded his lenses when he looked up, masking the intensity of his glare. One brow twitched.
“Would you excuse me for a second, Moose. Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Dominic clutched Sasha over his shoulder with such force that the cardboard box strained under his hold, but soon enough he looked away and exited the room. He went back out to his car and made a phone call. Ten minutes must have gone by before he returned, a cigarette in his mouth and his phone still in his free hand. He slipped it back into his pocket, then glanced at Moore. “Apologies. Forgot I had something to take care of later—had to give someone the heads up. So Moose. About that dragonfly of yours. Where did it come from? Just to be clear. I’d like to buy one for somebody.” He paused. “Or is yours for sale?”
Notes: xD He broke for a second. He's good now. Somebody he talked to on the phone is gonna die later though but who cares? No big deal. 'sallgood.
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Sept 28, 2013 22:29:01 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: date and time.notes: notes. As the seconds ticked by, it would only get more and more obvious that there was no 'jokes, just kidding!' coming from Moose. He simply wasn't the joking kind. In fact, he really couldn't remember having ever made a joke. He couldn't manage it. It was just a bit too over his head. He stared blankly as Dominic clearly struggled to process it, and he let out a tiny little grunt. Not a good plan. Maybe he'd come on to strong. Maybe he should have eased him into it a bit more.
When Dominic finally left, Moose eyed the dragonfly, starting a small conversation with it. The whole time he spoke out loud, although quietly, and Aura simply answered him back mentally.
You should't have told him.
"Yeah, I know. Realized that now."
You could get in trouble. Dad won't like that you're telling people.
"His friend died. Or hopefully he'd dead, because if not, whatever happened to him has gotta be worse."
There was a long, long pause.
Moose, his friend didn't die.
"What?"
His friend didn't die. He's not a concerned friend, he's trying to get information out of you. He wants to know what happened.
It was apparent enough that while Moose had bought it hook line and sinker, Aura had absolutely not. Dominic had simply pushed too strongly for her to believe it, asking all the questions, and it was during the silence that Dominic finally returned.
If there had been any question in Moose's mind about Aura being right, the first thing out of Dominic's mouth certainly confirmed it. He'd looked vaguely foul tempered when Dominic entered, and it was rapidly brewing into the sort of rage that ended in people getting choked. "No." He simply stated, taking a few steps towards the door. "Not for sale. And fuck off." It was obvious enough he was about to leave. |
|
|
|
Post by DOMINIC R. MARSTEN on Oct 1, 2013 16:24:37 GMT -8
Contrary to what most men would have done in this situation—especially after absorbing the sheer stupidity of it all only moments beforehand—Dominic watched Moore turn away with a cool, disinterested expression on his face, not at all fazed by the sudden animosity, or the blunt dismissal. Granted, the amount of ‘fucks’ he had heard today made him silently grind his teeth, but otherwise, he did not appear to care. The foul fire in Moore’s expression, the wall he erected, and this mountain of a man’s blistering temper should have left Dominic either throwing his hands up in mild submission and apology, or acquiescing to Moore’s last request, leaving the matter be and staying quiet. Smoke furled from the end of his cigarette as he stood there, letting him walk.
Idiot, a thought mumbled. He closed his eyes once before jerking his head toward Moore again. “She came from out there, didn’t she? The mountains. The estate, that’s no longer there,” he said, his tone level, bearing hardly any emotion. Dominic’s brow furrowed into a fine, angry line, his glare fixated on that bug still on Moore’s shoulder. Even if he didn’t answer, he didn’t care. That insect had heard him well enough. He suspected it could talk after that display earlier—just hadn’t bothered to yet, not with him anyway. Dominic continued, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Moose. Honestly, I do. Because if it turns out that you don’t, you’re going to have to answer for more than just yourself.” If this place weren’t so open, if Dominic still wasn’t lacking a few pieces to the bigger whole of this puzzle, he would have acted right there and then, consequences be damned. Instinct told him not to stand by and let that thing be, but the Society would frown upon such reckless abandon. What was he supposed to say? I had a gut feeling? True, I could be wrong, but who cares? Please. If the Society behaved that way 24/7 it wouldn't have survived so long. Explaining this in a report was going to try his patience though. But even Dominic hesitated at the thought of acting now—his sense of duty to the Society drawn instantly to the thought of protecting others, but at what cost?
Moore’s life?
Dominic could manage it easily enough. He had guns on him. Sasha too. He had done it before, countless times. For all his experience and skill, Moore wouldn’t have been able to move fast enough; hell, he could have shot him in the back of the head, right now. Every fiber of Dominic’s being did not trust that dragonfly, and that cold-blooded impulse had never been wrong before. If Moore wanted to protect it, that was a problem, and obstacles were meant to be removed. He’d done this for so long, first in the Marines and then for the Society, that the urge to listen was…overbearing. He reached up and took the cigarette from his mouth, smothering it against a plastic plate he picked off of the table. Dominic could have just as easily stripped off a gun and taken care of the problem, first Moore, then the dragonfly afterward. That poor dumb bastard, he thought. It wasn’t even thought in pity, so much as irritation. Dominic had much more to think about than Moore did in matters of humanity itself. Oh that dragonfly might have been small now, it might have been cute and maybe it needed protection, but god damn it, so did actual people. That much was no act on Dominic’s part. His concern, and the aggravation he felt with this tug of war between instinct and logic was driving his mind up a wall.
He’d just have to keep a close eye on that thing. On both of them, maybe. That’s all. “Have a nice day, Moose,” he said finally, still warring with the thought. That bug—he couldn’t bring himself to trust it. His jaw tightened. For what it was worth though, he let it go. Moore’s initial reactions and the concern he displayed had seemed…real, for a man that had committed murder and been imprisoned for it. His character was rough around the edges, but genuine. It grated on Dominic’s nerves because it commanded some form of respect from him, convinced him that the man himself did not deserve such a harsh punishment. Maybe. Not yet, anyway.
But if he met him again? If that thing turned out to be just as dangerous as Dominic's instincts thought it was? He hoped Moore wouldn’t be in the way. He really did.
Words!: 705 Tag!: Moose Date!: Month 0th 0000
|
|
|
|
Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Oct 1, 2013 18:16:45 GMT -8
tagged: character. date: date and time.notes: notes. Moose didn't realize the danger that he was in. He didn't for a moment suspect that Dominic was actually planning to kill him. He was used to more overt displays of aggression and anger. He was used to people saying 'I'm going to kill you' before they did so. He was used to things being obvious, and while it was clear to him that Dominic was annoyed, he didn't for one second suspect it was enough to kill him.
But then he didn't know the stakes. He didn't know about the society, or about powers, or about anything that was happening in LA outside of what had happened at the mansion. To him, it was a single isolated incident, and he'd yet to run into the flaming dog that would help him realize that the world was becoming a dangerous place.
Well, more dangerous.
He simply stared, eyes narrowing as Dominic wished him a nice day and left. Really, it was just lucky that Aura wasn't as oblivious as Moose, because she immediately started talking the moment Dominic was gone.
He was looking into it before he talked to you. He probably knows you got out and that's why he came at all. I don't know why, but he was definitely snooping around. I'll need to report back to father. There was a short pause as she allowed Moose to think it over, then continued. But not right away. I'll give it a few days, when things have passed. I'm afraid he might follow you. And if so, she would be the best possible person to check such a thing.
Moose didn't like the idea of anyone snooping around. He supposed there wasn't anything bad about it--it wasn't as if anyone was going to find anything--but it made him strangely edgy and nervous on Aura's behalf.
"Lets go find the boss then." He mumbled quietly, exiting the room to try and locate his superior.
|
|
TERRESA
UNKNOWN ENTITY
RESIDENT UNICORN
小書瑀
Posts: 105
MINI INFO - GENDER: Female
MINI INFO - D.O.B.: HOW DARE YOU ASK A WOMAN HER AGE?
MINI INFO - OCCUPATION: Guardian Kirin of the White Rice Paddies
|
Post by TERRESA on Oct 4, 2013 20:51:14 GMT -8
| | | Finished Thread
You have been rewarded with ONE RESIDUE as this thread is now complete. It has been placed in the archives under the 'finished' sub-board. You are more than welcome to PM fate if this thread is not finished or if you are unhappy/unsatisfied with the amount of residue that has been rewarded. Keep up the great work and keep posting with other members.
|
|
|
