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Doc Scratch blinked once the radio was turned on, casting his gaze to the dials and Slick as he briefly drove the car with his knee. Scratch almost furrowed his brow then, though he refrained, not because it was a safety hazard but because it was just so... Quirky? Something Slick would do, a characteristic act that seemed token but appealed to Scratch for some reason. Others might have overlooked it, but Scratch could not say he was capable of overlooking anything, even if he wanted to. This was a good thing, however, not like the more upsetting or depressing things Scratch was exposed to due to his vast knowledge. Even so, he enjoyed the music the radio played, along with Slick's accompaniment.
In truth Scratch was not unused to being regarded as doll-like or even inanimate in some ways. On occasion he would be simply sitting in a room and when a Felt member entered, they would neglect to notice him there. When he shifted or made any sound, they would jump as if guilty and ask defensively when he'd gotten there. He always responded with something along the lines of "Prior to your entry". It worried him a little; if they could overlook him so easily, they must all be very easy to get the jump on. It was worthy of a shake of the head from him from the Felt, but he was aware Slick didn't think it in a derogatory manner. The Crew leader had thought he looked good sitting there, which had struck Scratch a bit, in a positive way. Slick might not have realized just how Scratch felt about the veiled compliments, but he figured that was perfectly fine.
After stepping out of the car and gently closing the passenger door to the Cadillac, Scratch watched Slick gather the things with ample patience. When he removed the sling and told Scratch just to let him, the pale man raised a white brow to counter Slick's black one. He gave him a cursory glance before breaking the front and moving to Spades Slick's side. He linked their arms once again, Scratch's free hand going to rest on Slick's forearm lightly.
"Very well." Scratch said pleasantly. "I trust you not to overtax yourself, then. You may lead the way." Of course, if Slick tore his stitches he'd get into a fair bit of trouble with Diamonds Droog. Scratch didn't want that and would prefer Spades take it easy over that fate.
2014-08-18 20:22:24 -
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Slick knew this wasn't the case, however when Scratch had paused to take his arm and countered the Crew leader's expectant expression with his own, it sort of felt like he was being coaxed into a challenge. He knew for a fact this wasn't the case since the shorter soon took his arm in his own, pale hand resting on his forearm, but could shove that feeling down. It wasn't a bad feeling, more so one he felt when segueing with Droog, even though this wasn't technically an arguement, nor would it end with stab wounds and bruises, but it was the same subtle thrill nonetheless.
"Ya worry too fuckin' much." He grumbled, but was smirking, glad the other hadn't declined his offer, and did as told, leading the other onto and down the sidewalk that curved and swayed like a snake weaving throughout trees. He'd, of course, locked his car beforehand, not needing anyone breaking into his Cadillac and earning a quite pissed homicidal man.
"Also, I dunno what the hell ya like to eat, so I jus' kinda went 'n' got a li'l bit of everythin'." He shrugged. "Sue me. I would've asked beforehand, but I didn't really have an opportunity to since..." His blue hues glances to his wound, and he's reminded of why he's even doing all of this in the first place. Not only because he was eager (well, that was a bit stretching it, but he'll say that for now) to go out with Doc, but because it was a subtle 'thanks' for coming to take the fragments out of his wound, and also avoiding death (for the... Third time now?).
"Y'know, you're still a smug bastard, but'ta... You're a'ight. A bit on the stern side, yea, 'n' I think ya have a stick up your ass half the time-" he smirks at the other, merely teasing. "-but yea, you're a'ight." And with that, he shifts his arm being held in the other's, taking his hand and giving a peck to the back of it before resting it back in its former position.
It doesn't take long to find the spot Slick had in mind, a small opening where two trees sat a good yard or so apart, and moonlight glazed the entire are in a light blue illumination. It was calming, and though Slick would swear up and down he couldn't give a rats ass about 'romance', he thought this place was down right gorgeous in his own opinion. Then again, he thought lasagna was gorgeous too, so his opinion may not have been the most reliable source. That aside, he starts to open up the blanket, gently sliding from the arm embrace, and took the food from the very top of the 'basket' to set it aside. The blanket was then spread out in front of the two trees, candles set on the corners of it to both hold the fabric down and give more illumination. Whilst kneeling, he lit the candles with the lighter from his back pocket, careful when roaming about so he didn't hurt himself like he so often did, and soon had all right candles lit, adding a red hue to the already present blue one. The food was slid into the middle of the blanket, multiple containers, small and large, filled with variating food.
"Ya can sit now; don't be a stranger." He scoffs, a lot more comfortable then he was from the beginning as he sits and leans his back against one of the two trees.
2014-08-18 22:18:41 -
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As Spades Slick went on about Scratch being a "smug bastard" but "still alright", the aforementioned man smirked lightly, indulging Slick's teasing tone.
"You would be stern as well if you had to keep the Felt's ranks in line." Scratch said, coming playfully to his own defense. That or Slick would have snapped a long time ago, he figured. "It requires a certain level of strictness, you must understand."
Still, as the other man slid his grasp down to hold Scratch's hand and give it a kiss on the back of the palm, Scratch could not help but allow a light green dusting to come almost pridefully to his features. Slick might have claimed he didn't know how the "romance thing" was operated, but Doc Scratch thought he was doing just fine as yet. He didn't expect perfection out of the other man, and honestly would have been disappointed if that was what he received. Sometimes rough around the edges was what the First Guardian needed.Β
When the pair arrived in the area Slick had in mind for them, Scratch let him go and watched with seeming curiosity as the taller man set out the blanket and candles, a demure smile blooming on his face as he did. He quickly hid it, however, not wanting Slick to mistake it for something disrespectful. It was lovely to see a scene such as this in person; to think there was somewhere like this in the city was surprising to say the least. Scratch felt a bit out of place in it, however. He tried not to seem as stiff as he had in the car as he joined Spades Slick on the blanket, sitting near to him with his legs tucked underneath himself conservatively. Really, he sat as if he were wearing a dress and not a suit. For all his knowledge, he felt out of his element; he hardly ever even ate, for goodness' sake. Everything seemed new and strangely intimidating, suddenly.
"You may say you have no clue how to act with a romantic inclination, Slick, but everything I have witnessed from you so far tonight has greatly attested otherwise." Doc Scratch said, bright eyes turning to the other man. His tone was the full and round one he'd used when they first conversed that fateful day, polished with mellifluousness. Some might have thought it almost suspicious how his voice could have been that way, and what it could have been hiding, and they had every right to- but Scratch harbored absolutely no ill intent for Spades Slick at this point. He realized then that this was what recreation was. For once, Scratch was engaging in an activity that was not any means to an end, or any form of business whatsoever. As was evident, that was not something he frequently engaged in.
2014-08-19 02:30:33 -
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The blush does not go unnoticed; in fact, none of the slight green tints to the other's abnormally white features slide past Slick's icy blue hue. For a guy who had to work with one eye, he was pretty observant when he wanted to be, and had a smirk dancing across his lips as he took one of the larger containers and slid it over to them. He grabbed a smaller container, opening it and exposing plastic utensils wrapped up from when he snagged them from the deli. As he took one of the utensils, he paused at the other'e words, and almost stammered on his response, shrugging twice as he spoke.
"I... Uh, I blame Boxcars." He's never been praised for doing something so outlandish, and though it was a welcomed feeling, it didn't stop the slight embarrassment from creeping up on him. To distract such a feeling, he opened up the first container he'd dragged over, showing lasagna, and pointed to two other containers.
"Italian."
He gestured to a large container.
"Chinese."
Two small containers.
"I think those are German. And'duh..." He trails off, looking to the last box that was a bit large, however he doesn't particularly remember what he'd put inside of it.
He ends up scowling at it, as if it just insulted him, and shifts so he can drag it over and presses the lid to undo the tabs before opening it. Almost as soon as the kid is open however, he's feeling his face warm slightly and he curses himself mentally.
It was a medium sized vanilla cake with whipped cream topping.
"Shit, ya weren't suppose to see that yet." He a closes the container quickly, giving the other a meek, if not awkward, smile and slide the cake away.
"Don't say shit 'bout the flavor, Scratch." He grumbled, but there was no real threat behind his words, just natural scolding aimed at himself for forgetting the damned dessert was suppose to be saved for last. He doesn't een notice the other was feeling a bit out of his element, and if he had, he would have told Scratch to relax. Slick was the last person on Earth that someone should be self conscious about their actions around. He could give less of a care, seeing that he had two opposing side of himself; one was the violent, rough one, the other was a much rarer sight and a lot gentler and considerate. As fate would have it, Doc Scratch was able to witness his softer side.
"Take whatever ya want." He mentioned as he looked at the other, opening the small packet of utensils by biting the top of the wrapping off and then taking out the fork.
He'd come upon this area one day by accident, and it wasn't recent either. When he was younger, he'd avoid being at home. Mommy and Daddy adored fighting one another, and though the cops woul be called every so often, the two never split apart. Slick never understood why two people who hate each other so much could stay in the same house together; then again, he looked at his and Snowman's former relationship and figured it out quickly. That aside, he'd leave home at the ungodly hours of the night, to clear his head and relax his boiling frustrations, and one night on a full moon similar to this night, he'd found this small opening in the park. He never noticed it in he daytime, but when the moonlight had hit it just perfectly when he'd come across it, he was admittedly captured by it. Ever since then, he'll visit the place periodically, always alone though, and always rested upon the same tree he was currently leaning back against as well.
2014-08-19 05:24:09 -
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Though he gave Spades a small grin that rather suggested he knew about it already, (which went without his actual saying by now, as Slick should've assumed it) Scratch made no move to poke any fun at the other man due to his choice of desserts.
"As if I would stoop for even a moment to aggrieve you in regards to your preferences here." Scratch said dismissively. "Especially when you have gone so out of your way tonight to treat me."
Scratch wouldn't let the Crew leader catch on, but he did feel a trifle smug about what he'd gotten them for after dinner; he was fully aware of the connection Spades Slick had made between the porcelain man and the flavor vanilla, and had no immediate qualms with it. It suited him more than Spades Slick was aware, in all actuality. But that was neither here nor there for the time being, and was something Scratch hoped he wouldn't have to explain, really.
Doc Scratch would be patient now, waiting until after Slick got his own utensils and food to get his own; it seemed the tables had been turned on them, and now Scratch was the one feeling out of place and as if he might make some mistake. He did not eat with any great frequency. At all. He saw no need to, since food did nothing in supplying him energy. That was all taken care of by the Green Sun, and with it consumption was made entirely obsolete. He still knew the proper etiquette for when dining, of course (as opposed to Spades Slick, he was sure), it this was no setting for something such as that. They didn't even have a table. Scratch felt a bit bad for himself; he didn't want Slick to take it as if he were uncomfortable in the situation because of something he'd done. In reality it was all on the Felt leader, who would follow Slick's cues in a subtle manner, still feeling stupidly formal throughout.
Something that occasionally vexed Scratch was that Spades Slick, and not to mention the entirety of the Felt, had some story prior to arriving in their current spots, however illicit some proved to be. He knew all of them, that was a given, and perhaps it was what set some of them off when he was around- he already knew all that had transgressed in their respective pasts. Each of them were open books he was familiar with, and some did not like it at all. Others were more easygoing about it- he'd actually had the fortune to talk with a few of them about such topics, and they found him to be quite understanding. It was hard not to be. Still, Scratch could not help but feel a bit dismayed and even bitter about it- he had nothing like that. No parents or place of birth, no childhood that had helped shape him into who he was, and none of the aspirations that came with that state of life. There was no discovering himself- he knew from the moment he came into being what he was there for, and had not lost sight of it yet. He'd come to terms with it since then, but it still surfaced in his mind on occasion.
2014-08-19 15:53:32 -
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The grin flashed his way only received a partial scowl, however it was only for a second or two before it was gone and he was instead preoccupied with stuffing a forkful of lasagna into his mouth. He at least had enough coherence and manners (if they can be called that) to know to swallow the food in his mouth before talking.
"Don't get use to it." He admitted nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder and stuffing his mouth again. It only hit him then that he forgot to bring something to drink. At that thought, he made a very unamused expression to the air in front of himself, and sighed. Oh well, he doubted Scratched liked beer anyway; he didn't give off that certain vibe, and considering he did run the Felt and could be stern for a substantial amount of time, he wouldn't doubt if the guy didn't drink at all. So, he just dropped the whole worried phasic then and just continued to eat, occasionally glancing at Scratch and narrowing his eye at him.
He seemed to always be so formal, no matter who the conversation or meeting may be with. Even with someone like Slick, he looked hesitant to make a move as if the Crew leader would bite him if he did.
"Y'know... I got a question for ya. Now, ya ain't gotta answer the shit, jus' wave it off if ya dun wanna." He sets his food down, and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back back against the tree trunk. "You're a man that knows most everything 'n' shit like that, right? Right. So, that must mean you have the bit of control over most things, maybe even everything if ya solely wanted t'a. I'm guessin' this has gone on for awhile, 'n' I mean, a real long while. So ya prolly got use to thin's happenin' 'round ya 'n' knowin' fully well how, why, and what happened." He pauses, furrowing his raven brows.
"Let's put up a situation then. Let's see... Oh, yea, what if your gang messed up, y'know? 'N' I'm not talkin' 'bout an 'oops' situation, I'm talkin' 'bout an 'holy-shit-what-was-I-thinkin'' situation. Maybe someone dies, one or two, I'll throw that into the scenerio. Now, what if ya had no control over what had happened... Ya didn't even know who or how they got hurt. All ya know is that the plan fucked up 'n' now you're under hot water."
Slick knows where he's going with this, though maybe he's taking quite the amount of time to explain himself and give a suitable scenerio for one to understand where he's coming from. He would just blatantly ask the question before giving detail as to why he wants to know the answer, but not tonight. Tonight he wants to be understood solely for his actions, for once thinking who're acting (ooh wow).
"... Bottom line is; would ya be more concerned 'bout the whole situation, or would ya be relieved that not everythin' is at your fingertips?" The words came out carefully and slowly, almost hesitant to ask them. But, he had said earlier that Scratch in no way, shape, or form had to answer such a ridiculous question. One would say 'well I could've saved my comrade', and well, most would say that. That was only because they didn't think hard enough on it. Hell, Slick had no control whatsoever over most of the things he did; he took it by chance and went with the flow the best he could. So, because most are greedy for why they can't have, he wouldn't mind a bit of control in his life. Something to bring him back down to earth, so to speak. That thing, being Doc Scratch, whether he was aware of it or not.
2014-08-19 16:26:20 -
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"Of course not." Scratch said unblinkingly, a small smile on his face. He'd had no intent to get used to this happening at all. It might have even been the only time it occurred, but he didn't find himself minding if it were. Slick was correct in saying things such as these were not his strong suit, and Scratch would be loath to pull him farther from his comfort zone. "But perhaps next time you will allow me to cook for you."
Scratch was good at cooking, that was simple enough to comprehend. After that being exchanged between them, however, he seemed to loosen up, even if only marginally. Scratch ate sparingly, seeing as he had no tangible appetite, and for the most part found he at least enjoyed the ambience and present company. It was far better than sitting alone in his office, which was the usual routine for nights such as these. If Spades Slick truly desired his company, he would not grudge it to him.
Scratch had known the question was coming and, toward all questions overall he had a mixed reception. Sometimes he was tired of being treated as an oracle and someone who could be consulted for general knowledge. Those were the questions that were usually asked for the inquirer's gain, which Scratch did not have the most patience for. This was wholly different in that Slick wanted to know what Scratch thought of something, what he would do. Those were the questions he rarely got, but regarded as very considerate. After Slick had finished proposing the scenario, he sat back a bit, thinking.
"Your answer is a bit tricky to explain." Doc Scratch started. "I suppose I should begin by saying my omniscience is not fully fledged; there a few things which escape my grasp and are obscured. These may remain this way, or they may reveal themselves in time. Even so, they are few and far-between, and none of which regard anything of such great importance to myself."
He sighed to himself then, in thought. His words came slowly as he constructed them in his head. As he spoke, he looked to the space in front of him, not directly at Slick. "If I did not know it was going to occur, and then news reached me that something calamitous had transpired... At first I would wonder how it had eluded me. I wound wonder if I was somehow beginning to loose my grip on my abilities, though I know that is by and large impossible." He paused, frowning to himself.
"I would absolutely blame myself for what had happened, even if I knew it was not my fault. I consider it one of my biggest responsibilities to look after the members of the Felt and to ensure that nothing like the scenario you described actually takes place. If it somehow did, it would constitute nothing short of failure on my part. I would be ashamed beyond words and... I am sure the remaining Felt members would be speechless with me. They know of my power and they would wonder why I hadn't stopped it from happening. How could /I/ slip up?" Scratch blinked repeatedly then, refocusing his eyes on the ground. It was best to stop that idea there. He turned his eyes up toward Slick, tone amazingly calm for his words.
"But believe me, I would do everything in my power to right what had happened, if it did. I would personally ensure things were corrected. There is no length I cannot accomplish when I must. Do not take this the wrong way, Slick, I am not threatening you, but if I were forced to take an active stance in order to protect my comrades in the way I see fit... There is no one present who could stand even a ghost of a chance against me. You saw what I could do to your mind just to aid you, but I am capable of so much worse."
2014-08-19 18:16:23 -
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Slick kept Scratch's offer to cook at the back of his mind, making sure to keep note of it as he slowly began to eat again. As the other spoke, he stared for the longest moment at him, unblinking. He hadn't expected that as his reply, however he would have been disappointed if he'd been responded with anything less than such. A small part of him wanted to pinch himself for having asked such a question that seemed to make the other a bit uncomfortable. The subtle frown he caught didn't ease him, and soon he was humming and setting the food back down.
"... Well, remind me not to piss ya off." He mumbled, attempting to lighten the mood as he gave a half smile. "I mean, at least ya ain't a boss who doesn't give a flyin' rats ass 'bout your subordinates 'n' whatnot. Ya wouldn't lead them wrong, as long as ya can help it; I can respect that." He nods his head once, tilting it to the side subtly, and just continues to eat.
Number one rule now, don't ask questions without thinking about them first. Though, that alone would be a difficult task, he's now found out he doesn't enjoy seeing an expression other then juvenileness and smugness on Scratch's expression; frowning or (god forbid) scowling was crossing the line. He'd been curious though, and received an answer. It may not have been the most satisfying one, however he knew he would have been up all night thinking about it if he hadn't spoken it aloud. At least Doc had earned a new level of respect from Slick, one where the Crew leader thought the two were the same when their subordinates came into play. Spades Slck wouldn't allow his own Crew to face a fateful end, not whilst he could stop it at least, and regardless of whether it would tick off one of the members for so blindingly taking a bullet for them. He couldn't do much more then keep an eye on things and physically put a stop to things. He wasn't great with words, and logic didn't play a massive part in his head, so he played on his gut and usually, it was right. Those few times it wasn't, something minor occurred, though it was always fixable and Droog would scold him afterwards for jumping headlong into the situation. Doc probably wouldn't be as reckless, if at all, and would think about his moves like it were a chess game. Too bad Slick isn't capable of winning at chess, or else he might have challenged Doc... Though, the opposing would win either way, he'd at least want a fighting chance.
"Ay, c'mere." He mumbled, reaching out towards Scratch, gently tugging him over to sit closer to his side and rest an arm delicately around his waist. He wasn't particularly great or decent actually at comforting, but that doesn't stop him as he carefully leans over and presses a kiss to the porcelain white flesh of his neck.
"Y'know, if I ask anythin' ya don't like, ya can always punch me, wouldn't be the first." He mused, smirking lightly.
2014-08-19 19:51:50 -
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"It was a serious question, but also one that denotes great insight." Doc Scratch stated, nodding his head safely and employing the same professional tone he'd had during their first meeting, when they'd discussed business. "And it deserved a serious answer. I am glad mine was able to suffice."
Scratch was glad Slick understood how he felt on the matter, at the very least; some would look at him and claim he didn't care one way or another what happened to his "subordinates", as the other put it, but the exact opposite was true. Doc Scratch would look after them before he did himself, because he knew there wasn't much that could keep him down. Well, not permanently, like they could be. He could weather a plethora of abuse, but the others... Not so much. As much as he thought it was demeaning toward them, Doc Scratch could not help but marvel at how fragile mortals could be.
When the Midnight Crew leader slipped his arm around Scratch's waist, he almost gasped at the contact, but refrained. He didn't mind being pulled closer at all- in fact, he enjoyed it a little. More than a little, but he wouldn't be the one to admit that. Scratch's left hand went up to gently press on Slick's right shoulder, and after the kiss to his neck he pouted up at the taller man.
"Your question didn't make me uncomfortable." He said. "If it did, I would not have answered you, and would have informed you of the transgression. You must understand that I get asked many, many questions, and out of those very few have managed to make me uncomfortable. You needn't worry. I'll assume you know what is appropriate for when."
That was said in a more "I /expect/ you to know what is and isn't okay to ask and when" tone of voice. After that, however, he relaxed into his grip a bit.Β
It was true there had been times when someone had asked something he had no intention of answering; under those circumstances he would slip around the actual answer as he was so adept at, or he would sternly tell them that their inquiry was not one he would deign to address. It was sad to say there had been times when he'd had to employ the latter method, but hopefully Slick would be wise enough not to ask something that evoked such rebuttal from the other man.
2014-08-19 21:58:21 -
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Scratch earned a contemplative hum from the darkly dressed man, brows furrowing for a second before he finally nods once.
"A'ight, noted. Don't ask awkward questions at awkward times; gotcha." He didn't mind the tone the other used, and also didn't seem to mind the way the other had tensed up for a fraction of a second before relaxing into his touch. He honestly shouldn't have felt as comfortable as he was at that moment, especially with someone who he'd formerly planned to attempt homicide at. Who knew he'd end up cuddling against him in the middle of the night at ungodly hours. He had no room to complain though, he'd planned this out in his free time, and so far, he was having a pretty pleasant time. Another thing he's suddenly quite grateful for is the sweet scent of vanilla from the other's close proximity. He'd gotten use to the scent a bit, but being close, he was practically face to face with it. As always, his mouth waters, and then he finally remembers why he had bought the ironically flavored cake; he didn't want to end up over showing Doc with affection.
He still wasn't too aware as to how much the other enjoyed his actions, but he wasn't shoving Slick away, so that was a good sign. Then again, he could just be going along with whatever Spades threw at him in an attempt as to not thwart his emotions. That didn't settle well with him; he didn't want the other to be uncomfortable whatsoever. That would go against everything he'd been yielding to do the entire night. With that in mind, he still held the other close, but gentler, almost barely really, the hand on his shoulder being quite warm compared to his original assumption that the other would be alarmingly cold. He supposed this came from his evaluation of Scratch's characteristics being like that of a pristine porcelain doll.
"So, Scratch, would ya rather be back at the Manor, doin' whatever the hell it is ya usually do, or be here with... A violent mobster like me?" He mused, smirking lightly and attempting to just tease the other now. Could this be considered flirting? He supposed so, though this was a lot more respectful and simple compared to the sort of flirting he usually did, the question was sincere nonetheless.
"I mean, what is it that ya even do, when ya ain't gettin' on the Felt's ass'? What does Doc Scratch like to do for fun?"
Well, Slick had multiple things he'd like to do for fun, though most of them were questionable at best, which inevitably meant he wouldn't do most enjoyable tasks that were shady with Scratch. He'd only do then with the Crew, or someone he wasn't intimidated to have a one night stand with. He was almost solely sure the other wouldn't partake in such questionable shenanigans, nor would he allow such a thing to occur if he did. One could say that Slick would be protective of the shorter man in a threatening situation. Though he was aware Doc was fully capable of protecting himself, some part of Slick felt like his stubbornness wouldn't pay that fct much mind and would grow undoubtedly hostile towards anyone that threatened his... Partner?
"... What're we Scratch? I mean, we can't necessarily label ourselves as lovers, seeing that I hadn't slept with ya yet. Though, I don't wanna say companion since that's certainly not what we are, so... A couple?" He rolled the word along in his mouth, furrowing his brow and contemplating his own question.
2014-08-19 23:11:10 -
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Scratch was fully aware his features were considered oddly void of emotional expression. He occasionally had trouble emoting, showing others how he felt without being blunt about it and simply telling them. Though it was something he struggled with usually, sometimes he managed it well enough. This was usually achieved in a one-on-one setting with those he was more familiar with. He figured that soon he'd settle into a groove like that with Spades Slick and everything would smooth out. Maybe eventually he'd take his suit jacket off around him- that would really be something. Though he figured since Slick had caught him in his robe, that wasn't as big a deal.
When asked what he did "for fun" Scratch paused considerably, blinking his luminous eyes as if he didn't fully understand the words Slick was saying. Of course, he did, but he simply... Wasn't fully sure what to say in response. There wasn't a lot he did for fun. He wasn't exactly there to have fun, or to do anything except work, really, which was part of the thrill this date gave him. (By this point there were no reservations left over- this was a date, it was plain to see.)
"That's a very... Vague concept, Slick." Doc Scratch said evasively. "I regret to inform you, however, that most things you consider good recreational fun I do not. You might have guessed it, but I also discourage things such as that from taking place with great frequency within the ranks of the Felt, to preserve efficiency, you must understand." He realized that didn't exactly answer Slick's question, but there wasn't much he could say. He was good at billiards, though no one really played with him for that exact reason. It was the same reason he never joined in card games. Omniscience sort of ruined a lot of different activities for him, so he simply abstained from them. He hasn't said as much perhaps out of fear for making Slick think he was boring. He didn't want that, not now.
Slick's second question was more up his alley; after it was asked, Scratch hummed quietly, in thought. It was good they were finally addressing this topic, at the very least. Doc Scratch wouldn't have wanted to forcefully broach the topic himself at a later date, and was thankful Slick had done it himself now.
"That term certainly suits the situation well enough for the time being." Scratch said. "I certainly will not dispute it, but I suppose the decision rests on you. If you'd rather it not be identified as such... That is fully understandable, and it can be reclassified." He wanted Slick to tell him what he wanted; he might have known the answer already, but it wasn't the same as it being directly communicated between the two of them, which was what Scratch preferred in all honesty.
2014-08-20 04:10:54 -
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The other's response has Slick narrowing his eye down at him. Not because of the way it was worded or that Slick's own enjoyment may be in question, but because the other was beating around the bush again. Though this was the first time this night he was actually doing such a thing, Slick didn't particularly fancy his technique of avoidance. However, that does not mean he pressed Scratch for a straight answer, knowing the other shouldn't be questioned if he didn't want to be. That was by all means his own right, but that doesn't mean it didn't leave a bitter taste in Slick's mouth.
"Oh c'mon, ya should know now that I wouldn't let anyone, not e'en myself, attempt to push somethin' on ya that ya don't wanna do. Anyway, regardless of what I find fun, I'm pretty damned sure some simple billards 'n' Texas Hold'em ain't gonna dirty up anyone's reputation much, if at all." He shrugs subtly, taking another bite or two from his lasagna and pausing before slowly swallowing, looking down at the food he'd been consuming with a contemplative look.
"Mh, so it's 'bout what I want?" He scoffs, rolling his eye and briefly wrapping the other arm around Doc's waist before tugging him closer for a moment, then releases him. The arm that had been resting around him was still there, though slack.
"Damn it Doc, if it's fine with ya, I sure as hell ain't gonna complain. I like the idea, as weird as that shit sounds comin' outta my mouth." He shrugs one shoulder, simply relaxing now against the tree trunk and glancing up to watch the full moon loom over the tree tops surrounding them. The soft drifts of wind every now and then, along with the occasional chirp of crickets set a nice ambiance, and if Slick could, he'd fall asleep right then and there. He couldn't though, with everything he was currently situated with; bullet wound healing, law enforcement on the Crew's ass, and the Crew itself being unaware of Slick's meet ups with the leader of the Felt. Speaking of, he questioned whether he'd even be able to tell his subordinates of such a relationship, but felt the heavy weight of the truth being too much for them. They abhorred the Felt, and Spades Slick was no exception, but he had a soft spot that was growing slowly and surely for the pale man beside him. So, he drops the though quickly, grimacing to no one but himself, and pushes the Italian food away from himself as he shifts a bit to slide the container of vanilla cake towards the two of them.
"Remember that offer ya made 'bout cookin' for me for one night? When exactly were ya gonna do that?" He mused, half smiling at the thought of Scratch just busying about making something that smelled fantastic whilst Slick relaxed at the kitchen table and watched in amusement. It was a delightful thought, though maybe highly improbable, it did bring an entertained smirk to the taller's lips as he opened up a new package of utensils, not wanting to use the one he'd put to eating lasagna, using the same method of opening it with his teeth as he had the former. Once that's done, he proceeds to take a piece of the cake, bringing it up, pausing, and then glances to Scratch. Without much of an explanation, he puts the forkful of cake in front of the other's mouth, smirking only slightly.
"Ahh." He coaxed lightly.
2014-08-20 06:01:12 -
π
"Of course it would not tarnish my reputation." Doc Scratch said to Slick with a sardonic grin. "But I do not get to indulge in such activities when everyone is well aware that you know every card in their hand and so on. I would never consider using my skills to cheat others in simple games, but they do rather ruin the actual experience of it for most involved."
Scratch was sure Slick wouldn't glean any enjoyment from engaging in any sort of activity like cards with someone like him under those circumstances being taken into account. Scratch wasn't so defeatist on purpose, he'd just grown used to his certain abilities rendering most everyday things either overcomplicated or ludicrously ineffectual. He didn't really need to Slick to humor him by playing along either, at any rate. It was better just to let it all be.
"So I don't leave you wondering, I will come right out and tell you that I would enjoy it as well." Scratch's tone remained professional, though that shouldn't have come as a surprise to anyone by this point. Though to remained unsaid, Scratch did not want his own opinion to somehow affect Spades Slick's, out of anything, whether it was pity or otherwise. He would legitimately enjoy being an established couple, and felt glad (and admittedly relieved) Slick shared the sentiment. It was the oddest form of compliment to Scratch, that someone actually desired a romantic relationship with him.
"As for the cooking, well..." He shrugged gently, lips curling into a soft smile. "That is up for debate, though I suppose sometime when your team is unlikely to seek you out. I can arrange my end however I need, you see; it really is whatever time works best for you that it can be settled."
Whether the Felt were all away or not, Doc Scratch was capable of receiving Slick at the Manor, though it might take some other form of entry on the latter's part. Through a window or perhaps the back door. There was more than one kitchen and, if one were to find the door locked or something of the like, would just assume that it was being cleaned and find their way to the other. If it was late enough, they wouldn't even be awake to bother the two. It was something the First Guardian would need to muse on, but not at the moment it seemed. Scratch had taken notice of the smirk on Slick's face and tried to face him with a more stubborn expression but that was hard when his face heated up in response to the prompting. He almost felt embarrassed because he was not a child and why was this happening, but still found himself opening his mouth to let Slick feed him the cake. He could not rationalize why he'd reacted with a blush, but he figured at least that if this was what Slick tasted when they kissed, he could understand why the other man enjoyed it so much.
2014-08-20 16:44:14 -
β
He hadn't particularly expected Scratch to voice his agreement upon the subject of naming their relationship. A sort of prideful feeling swelled in his chest at that, alongside some part of himself that found the shorter's confession to be enamoring. Though it was said in his usual sophisticated tone, it did nothing to dampen the almost overwhelming urge to kiss him again. Either out of his known hunger for the other, or that he's finally having something go his way, he's not too sure which one it is that is motivating to express such affection. A part of him, though minuscule, warns him to be cautious. It's a small voice at the back of his head, not necessarily his conscience, but his inner safety mode yielding for him to not give all of himself. Of course, he doesn't pay it much mind at the moment, but it's still there, and no matter how hard he'd attempt to push that feeling and voice away, it would stick like a wad of gum to the bottom of one's shoe. Whether it would turn out to be a bad note or not, he wasn't quite sure yet, but was siding with the latter.
"I can't come tomorrow, seein' that the boys 'n' I usually have a poker night once a week, 'n' tomorrow's the due schedule. Maybe the night afterward? I'd like to see what this 'excellent host' can do in the damned kitchen." If the cooking was anything like how Droog cooked, it would be impressive; but more so? Slick might end up wanting to take Scratch home and have him cook for him all the time. If the food being made met the high standards that Scratch seemed to have towards most things (but Slick seemed to be the only exception since he wasn't that up to standards, in his own opinion) then the Crew leader was about to be impressed. Another thing that came to his mind was how effortless Doc Scratch made it sound to maneuver his subordinates and have all the cards in his hands. Slick couldn't gracefully coax his but donates to do such things as get off his back, though he supposed threatening to gut them alive wasn't really considered 'graceful coaxing'. His own Crew's schedule was hard to study, seeing that they usually do what Slick orders, but they do it at their own time and pace, which is perfectly fine as long as the tasks get done, but when and where they do it carts dependently upon the time they do it. Droog seemed to get his job done sooner then the other two, Deuce spaced his tasks out through the day, and Boxcars waited until last minute to get them done. It wasn't always in this manner, however it was the most often they would proceed in this way. Now, what they did afterward, Slick had not a clue. He usually give them their space, and if they have complaints or questions, they always come to the boss to sort it out. Being a cranky, hostile man helped in keeping order, but sometimes that earned hostility from his own Crew. It never ended past a few bruises and cuts, and finally everyone would seem it a 'boys will be boys' shenanigan... Though they were grown men, sometimes they acted like children; Slick was in no way, shape, or form exempt from this.
When the other had looked up at him with those peculiar and fascinating eyes of his, a very stubborn look present, he'd thought Scratch would question as to what on Earth he was doing. And maybe if Slick hadn't coaxed him to open his mouth, he might have, however instead his face is tinted that familiar green color, and the taller is letting out an amused chuckle.
"Damn it Doc, don't look so tense. Ya ain't gotta be so fuckin' cautious 'bout the shit I do. To be honest, I jus' wanted to see what ya would do in this situation. Nice reaction, by the way, your blush really compliments your eyes." His tone was light, not mocking, more so pleased then anything else. He did in fact like that the other had taken his offer of cake, it gave him a delightful pleasure to know he didn't have to be informed all the time to Spades Slick's reasonings, mainly because, well, behind more then a few, there was no reasoning. It was just an impulse to see one's reactions to how they'd act towards whatever the mobster threw at them. This one was just a lot more... Sweeter, in a sense. The embarrassed flush just added to it all as well, earning a satisfied smirk.
2014-08-20 17:50:18 -
π
Doc Scratch gave the impression of a man with high standards, and he could not help it; whether or not his standards were actually high was up to strenuous debate, however. Only he knew the truth of it, or so it seemed. He didn't really consider himself to have standards- he did not pick and choose depending on skill or quality. He worked with what he had present, patiently and efficiently, part of the reason (he was sure) that he was the real leader. While Snowman or Crowbar might choose to purposely exclude or even lose their patience with some other Felt members (Eggs and Biscuits were prime offenders here), Scratch knew where to put them where they would do the least damage and, theoretically, even aid them in ways. He could make use of anyone for a time, really, but how these standards translated to the romantic area of his life was rather enigmatic.
Put simply, Doc Scratch's so-called "romantic life" had been, up until very recently, nonexistent for all intents and purposes. Dead to the world, if you asked some. Some would also venture to say he of all people would be incapable of maintaining one. There were times when Scratch would have agreed with them. But recent events with Slick had made him feel different about it overall; he had a habit of being pessimistic when he was able to, but now it was confirmed that people were capable of feeling affection toward him, and that he could return it. Even if things didn't work out with Spades Slick, in the long term or short, there was no doubt in his mind whether or not he was unlovable.
Then again, Spades Slick didn't know everything about him. And if Scratch had any hand in it, things would stay that way.
"You could drop by the Manor at any time and I would be prepared for you, in all reality." Scratch told him with a quiet smirk. "But yes, that could certainly be arranged." He was already working out what he'd put together for the other man. It wouldn't exactly be the biggest or fanciest thing he was capable of, but that didn't seem to suit Slick, anyway.
"And I am not cautious in regards to what your actions will be." Scratch claimed. "I am only... Unused to being treated this way, so some reservations are to be expected as I adjust. I'll pretend I didn't hear that part about my eyes." His tone was almost that of a warning, but there was a hint of playfulness present, including in his half smile afterward.
"If I were tense I would not have allowed you to pull me this close, you know."
2014-08-20 22:05:25 -
β
"For some reason, I don't doubt ya would be ready for me to turn up at any given hour, or minute really. Which means, it's all about how I play my cards, so ya an manuver 'round that 'n' do as ya please." He snorts at his own point, knowing that since it was true Doc would know basically any of Slick's moves, he'd always be one step, maybe even more, ahead of the Crew leader no matter what he did. That didn't amuse him too much, but at least this opportunity gives him a worthy opponent. Not to mention that, but Slick soon realizes he'd be very hesitant to lay a hand on Doc Scratch then he would have been before. Not only because the relationship the two seemed to be partaking in, but the fact that the shorter had admitted himself that he could do more then what Slick has witnessed from himself. If the small action of manipulating his mind was just a small dose of what the other could do, there was no telling what else he was capable of. It wasn't necessarily fear that intimidated the Crew leader, more so wariness. Even with caution though, Slick doesn't feel like he should really fear Doc Scratch, unless he's done something to rub him the wrong way, which the mobster has spent a ridiculously vast amount of time attempting /not/ to do.
At the mention of the paler man not being cautious to his actions, but simply foreign to such contact, it made both raven brows raise a bit on the taller's expression. To say the least, the news caught him a bit off guard.
"Wait. Lemme get this shit straight, then. You're sayin' ya ain't ever had someone... Y'know..." He gestures at the arm around the other's waist and then at the air between them, lacking the proper words to explain himself.
"Doc Scratch, with amazin' green eyes-" he put quite the emphasis on the second 'a' in 'amazing' purposefully, the telltale smirk of smugness on his lips. "-hasn't felt the warm embrace of a carin' companion? I call bull shit." Now Slick was only teasing, he didn't actually doubt the other had never felt affection; hell, he'd admit that the first time he met the porcelain man he'd been a bit intimidated to just stand in the same room as him. He can understand how someone could wish to put distance between themselves and the Felt leader. Though, the only reason the mobster had drawn close in the first place was to curl his claws around his throat and potentially choke him to death, but now he knows that attempt would have been futile, regardless of the fact he now has no vigor to do such a thing to him.
"A'ight, y'know what, I'll jus' make up for all those shitty dates ya ain't ever experienced. I'll also make up for those sloppy kisses ya've had the luxury to avoid so far, 'n' maybe some nice ol' taste of embarrassment could work here too." Oh, Slick was having fun now, snickering quietly to himself and swiping his index into the creamy frosting of the cake.
"Let's see... 'Cheesy movie kiss' number one." The cream was swiftly wiped in a single motion onto the other's lower lip then. Of course, the cream tasted the same as himself, but then again this was the so called 'cheesiness' Doc had missed out on, and tilts the others chin upward enough so Slick can purr out, "Got a li'l somethin' on your face there..." Before lapping the cream up in one attempt, and kissed him briefly afterward.
"Mh... 'S gone now." He nods his head once, as if pleased with his work.
2014-08-20 23:02:26 -
π
Doc Scratch nodded to himself, having already ascertained the time Slick would arrive at the Manor for the aforementioned dinner. He hadn't had the pleasure of having someone over for a meal he had prepared with his own two hands before; usually it was just to discuss some formal business, a brief but effective conversation on important matters, that sort of thing. This would be a new thing, but he was certain he could handle it with as much ease as anything else that denoted him tending to a visitor. That was, with all the ease. All of it. He'd be glad to have Slick over, when all was said and done. He was... interesting company to say the very least. Not in a bad way, Scratch had found- it was a rather positive one, after all, as ironic as that seemed.Β
"No, no, it's the truth." The Felt leader went on. He did not lie, especially about as personal a detail as that had been. But as Slick began teasing him, he felt slightly dismayed, thinking that perhaps the other gangster wouldn't want any part of someone without that sort of... Experience. That was proved to be a bit off-track, however, as the other went on about walking Doc Scratch through all the downsides of dating he'd never gotten to go through, which Slick apparently had. He was about to speak up, but was cut off when Slick wiped the frosting across his lip and, just as swiftly, removed it with his own tongue. The kiss afterward Scratch could not bring himself to return, due to both shock and the brevity of it. He did, however, tighten his grip on Slick's right shoulder and push him away.
It was not a violent movement, and Slick was not even that far removed from the other man- it was a few inches, at the most. His hand remains on the other's shoulder, holding him. Doc Scratch let out a brief, curt exhale and one could notice that his blush had intensified to a very respectable shade of jade. Scratch was not sure what the offense was; perhaps he just didn't take kindly to the tone Slick had been using, or he was apprehensive to such sudden moves, but he was... Actually embarrassed by what Slick had done, for some reason. He'd never felt embarrassed like that before.
"I do not think that exposing me to such... Nuances of the romantic journey is exactly necessary." The ivory-skinned man said quietly. "Thank you, but I think we can both go without."
At that point, his grip on Spades' shoulder loosened considerably, and he even ran his hand along the line of his shoulder, as if to brush off the fabric of the other man's clothing. "Besides." He continued. "Since I have never engaged in any activities such as these prior to our little arrangements, you are first to have done them with me, whatever they may be. And that, even in this day and age, amounts to something, am I correct?" He smiled placatingly at the other, all hints of danger having vanished. "Perhaps you should count your blessings a bit more carefully."
2014-08-21 02:52:35 -
β
There were many things to have expected as a reaction for such a blatant move of Slick's part. Embarrassment was one, shock was another, and hostility was coming in close with the top three, however this still does not prepare the taller for the almost too quick adjustment of positions as his shoulder is gripped tightly and his is shoved a bit aways. His blue hue widened subtly, his own muscles tensing out of what can only be reflex, and his arm is flinching away from around the shorter's waist to intead retract back to Slick. Though, both hands come up for a moment in a manner that suggests 'my mistake', staring at the paler male with both confusion and a loss for words. The action had been much quicker then he thought Doc was capable of, and that grip on his shoulder prompted him to keep his distance whilst the other gained back... Whatever it was he was trying to reclaim. A calm façade? Spades wasn't too sure, but the flush that had seemed to consume the other's once alarmingly pale features was either out of anger, or embarrassment. At first he couldn't tell, but once the shorter started speaking and calming down once more, Slick realizes it was one of actual embarrassment.
For a few seconds, as he's let go and his shoulder is brushed over as if to rid it of lint, he's speechless, blue hue staring unblinking at the Felt leader. After those couple seconds, he's able to gather up enough sense to snap out of it and finally cross his arms over his chest and narrow his eye at Doc. He'd opened his mouth, planning to argue that he hadn't meant for him to freak out as such, but then he's given a smile that seems to smooth over all arguements and hostility, and his mouth is freezing before slowly closing. He was still scowling, but even that softened as his eye rolled.
"Yea, yea, yea, I got it. I'm guessin' that shit ya say relates t'a 'don't count your chickens before they hatch' or some shit. Fine, I'll be more... Considerate." Well, that was an odd word to leave his mouth. Not to mention it tasted quite off on his tongue, regardless off the sweet tang of vanilla still coating his tongue pleasantly. He may no have gotten an impressive response, but at least he didn't have a shiner for his efforts. Besides, Doc Scratch was right... Only for once. Slick should be more careful and remember to not neglect the other's lack of experience by shoving him head first into anything. Then again, it had just been a simple action, but what was simple and harmless in the rival mobster's head, may not exactly be solely 'harmless' in another's.
Being snapped out of his thoughts for a brief second, he noticed the candles were starting to dim, the wax on it's lest fraction of an inch of life, and the moon was starting to dip behind the treetops. It was starting to shift towards morning, though maybe an hour or so before the first hints of sunlight, it was safe to say it was time to leave.
"Now, if ya ain't gonna lecture me on repsectin' people, I think it's time I dropped ya off back at the Manor." He pointed out, watching the moon slowly drip down the black sky. Slick would be considered a liar (which he very well was) if he'd sai he wanted the night to hurry and be done with. He enjoyed sitting in front if the twin-like trees behind them, not to mention sitting in such a personal area with someone like Scratch. It was comfortable, more so then he remembers it being, and he doesn't want to think too hard as to why that is. He'd also had fun, almost entertained really with teasing and conversing with the Felt leader like they were just a regular everyday couple having a picnic, and not the rival gangs they truely were.
"Fuck Doc, ya got't'a grip like'a vice, shit." He grumbles, rubbing his shoulder, but he wasn't really upset about it, more so impressed if anything.
2014-08-21 03:39:42 -
π
After Slick's immediate reaction, Doc Scratch feared he'd overreacted in some way. Even though it had not been an outburst of any sort, more of a stern correction to the other's actions. If Slick had been just a bit slower with himself, and hadn't intended to tease him by it, perhaps the action would have transpired peacefully on Scratch's part. But the First Guardian that he was had an issue with it, and that issue was being walked all over like a rug. His species had a disposition toward being freelance, unconfined by a higher power. Doc Scratch was an outlier in this equation, however; he wasn't necessarily free, and was in possession of a human conscious. Some part of him had reacted with "How dare he" to the icing trick, but Scratch had a tighter grip over his facilities than to allow anger take hold for even a moment. He made a point not to wield his temper and had done well thus far, both with Slick and in others.
After Slick, in a growling, grudging manner, declared he'd attempt to be more "considerate" toward the other man, Scratch supplied him with a smirk and the slightest shake of the head. Scratch desired respect from others, and largely he got it, and in his mind he deserved some respect, if not for his leadership position, then for his skill and knowledge. He wanted to make statements that would attest to his worth in said position, not tear him down.
"I surely am glad you'll take my opinion on your actions into consideration, especially when they regard your behavior toward me." Scratch said, making it clear he was the one teasing now. It was only light, a touch of sarcasm really; hopefully Slick knew that in order for any relationship to work out properly, communication between participants was key, as well as mutual consent. Slick was a rugged and coarse man, it was true, but he had no intent to harm Scratch. Conversely, for a man with all the power Scratch had, he still needed a gentle hand in some areas.
Doc Scratch had only been vaguely aware of the passage of time after his being picked up by Slick, so when the other said it was high time he returned him home, he could only agree. It would be a prudent move considering Slick was the one in any danger of being caught. Even if he was, Scratch was sure he could worm his way out of any histrionics his team provided. As to the jibe regarding Scratch's grip, well... He only responded with an innocent smile and nod, telling Slick that yes, he did have an impressive grip. The response was saccharine enough to allow Slick to draw his own meaning from it, of which there might have been more than one. Scratch left that without any specification, however, and would aid the other man is packing things up again. It was only proper manners, he figured, and was not about to make Spades Slick do everything himself. Scratch was more proactive than that, and would hate to come across as anything less. He had enjoyed the date as well, and hoped that was communicated well enough- if not, well, it wasn't exactly over just yet.
2014-08-21 17:35:01 -
β
Slick have the snort of the year at the obvious sarcastic tone the other used, shifting against the tree before standing up and brushing his black slacks off.
"Sure, whatever ya want. Next thin' ya know, I'm gonna have t'a treat ya like a prince or some shit." When he was done wiping his pants, he offered a hand to Scratch, and helped tug him up to his feet. Carefully, he watched the shorter for a moment, as if making sure all the wrinkles of discomfort were smoothed out, then proceeded to start picking up the melted candles and toss them carelessly into the middle of the blanket, narrowly missing the containers, both empty and filled. When he started to notice Scratch lending a hand in cleaning up, he started to protest.
"Ay, Doc, ya ain't gotta... Y'know what, never mind." He shakes his head, smiling slightly as he blows a flame from a candle in his hand out, then in the blanket it goes. One reason why he decided to buy a blanket rather then bring one was he knew the wax if the candle would stain said article of fabric. Slick doesn't have the patience to clean such a mess, and is inevitably going to toss the blanket in the trash once he heads back to the hideout. Of course, he'll have to dump it in some dumpster located in a few alleys near there, he couldn't simply dumb it in the trash can located in the Crew's kitchen. It wouldn't fit, an also Droog would ask where he'd gotten it.
Once everything was wrapped up once more in the blanket, he tied the four corner into a knot and stood up with the makeshift basket settled in one hand, the other being offered to Scratch to link arm again. Slick would never say this aloud, though either way the shorter would know of such thoughts, but the sketchy mobster had undoubtedly enjoyed himself, every second really. Even though he slipped up a bit at the end, he was still glad it happened so that he'd be more aware as to what was okay, and what wasn't. On the way to the Cadillac, he stayed quiet, not out of a lack of anything to say, nor was the silence awkward on his part, he was merely content. It had been a pleasant night, better then he honestly thought it would go, and though he may have been a bit nervous at first, Slick was sure of himself now. Maybe another night like this wouldn't be minded as much as he'd verbally spoken of formerly; however, it would be a long while before he did something as pleasant as this.
At the Cadillac, Slick unlocks his trunk after slipping his arm out from Doc's, not wanting the wax on the backseats of his vehicle. Carelessly, he tosses the blanket into the trunk, slamming the kid shut afterward and twirling his keychain around on his index with a whistle. However, he pauses, narrowing his hue at the other before tilting his head.
"... Do ya hear that?" He asked quietly, perplexed as he walked over to his car, the passenger side actually, and opened the door. At first. He thought the muffled static was coming from his radio, though that was impossible since the Cadillac wasn't even cut on. So, that left the glove compartment.
"Oh shit."
He opened it, his radio cursing static at him in annoyance.
"Spades Seth Slick, you answer this radio--BOXCARS HOLD THEM!"
"I can't! He fuckin' keeps try'na bite me!"
Well, that wasn't a good sign, at all. Quickly, Slick snatches up the radio, pressing the side receiver and spoke fluidly.
"What's goin' on? Droog? Ay, answer me."
There was only static, then Droog was answering the radio, breathing ragged and tone cold like that of reinforced steel.
"Oh, so lovely for you to finally answer me, I've been radioing you for what, ten, twenty minutes now? You better kick it in gear and drag your ass back here. You better have a good explanation..." Droog was breathless, as if talking was an immense task for him, and well, it was considering Trace had decided to take a nice chunk out of his shoulder. Slick was utterly frozen for a second, worry and dread clenching at his stomach, and then he hears two unfamiliar voices in the background. Diamonds is hissing for them to shut up, then there's a loud crack that Slick recognizes to be a cue stick whapping against a skull.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
2014-08-21 19:50:07 -
π
Doc Scratch could only roll his eyes spectacularly at the Slick's jibe, obviously caring none at all for it. That was quickly brushed aside, however, as the two tidied up the area and began to exit. Scratch had enjoyed himself as well, though he was strangely quiet as they walked back to Slick's Cadillac. The look about him was almost... Smug? Perhaps, with his eyelids partially lowered and the set of his mouth suggesting a smothered smirk. It was close to smugness, but perhaps did not match it entirely. What he was concealing was privy to him only, and if he had intents to share it, they were as well.
Scratch was glad for tonight, in all honesty. It was a veritable switch-up from his regular schedule, which he would admit (after some prodding, at least) himself. But tonight had been... Thankfully relaxing. It wasn't work in any way, shape, or form, and though the concept had been awkward for Scratch at first, he had adjusted as best he could in such a short timeframe. He hasn't expected it to go perfectly, nor had it. It was a fine night, all in all, but he knew when to wrap it up. He'd do well to separate his date from events that would transpire later; he and no real issue with as much. So was the nature of their... True engagements, so to speak. There was no use causing more conflict when they saw a fair deal of it already.
As Spades Slick goes for the radio in his glovebox, Scratch makes no move toward him, standing adjacent to the car and behind Slick. He watched the darkly-dressed man shout into the radio, and his cohorts on the other end reply through static and strife. Scratch's deceivingly delicate hands crossed behind his back, and he watched Slick placidly. When the sickening crack of cue stick against bone issued from the box, he did not so much as flinch. Afterward, Scratch's voice cut through whatever din happened to follow with ease: "You never told me your middle name was Seth." His tone was quietly amused, and his expression now unreadable one way or the other.
2014-08-21 23:17:35 -
β
One, by the tone of Droog's voice and cursing, he was not happy... At all. When the most aggressive Crew member was aggravated, even Slick grew intimidated of him. He still wasn't aware as to what an why he was so pissed, and as he tried to say something to draw more information out of him, he hears Scratch point out his middle name. For some odd reason, this snaps Slick out of his stupor, giving Doc a subtle frown.
"Ya ain't s'pose t'a know that." He grumbled, keeping in mind to strangle Droog later for giving such information away, and threw the radio back in the glovebox with a bit of irritation.
"A'ight ya got two choices. One, ride with me 'n' probably get in a car wreck, or two, do that teleportin' shit I saw ya do." He maneuvered paused, holding the passenger door open to see what the other would decide. Yes, he should really be hurrying back to the hideout, and yes, he should still be listening to the radio to maybe grasp a hint as to what was going on, but here he is awaiting his date's choice like he had all day when he really didn't. A part of Slick doesn't want to face a pissed Diamonds Droog, another wants to see that his Crew is okay, however he knows better then to jump right into matters without wrapping up the topic(s) at hand.
That aside, he was vaguely intrigued as to how calm Doc Scratch was. He seemed almost amused, really. Whether that was due to the newfound information about Slick or something else, the Crew leader couldn't precisely pinpoint. Instead, he just narrowed his eye at him subtly, barely noticeable to the point of where it looke less of a scold and more of a perplexed expression. The night had gone swiftly just as quick as came, leaving a vile taste in Slick's mouth he'd probably drink away later, or at least that's what he hopes he'll be able to do. Considering his chances and the way his luck seemed to run short oh him, he wouldn't doubt that he'd be up all night trying to explain himself and calm his subordinate(s?) down. Boxcars hadn't sounded too upset, more so straining like there was a force he was fighting against.. Or tying to a chair. Were they still in the hideout, or were they somewhere else? Slick wasn't sure of that either, but since the shouting echoed a bit and he had heard the bottom of loafers scraping and scuffing against what he recognized to be concrete, he assumed the two were down in the 'basement' of their hideout. The opening to such basement, or more so cellar really, was located under the fridge in the kitchen. It was large enough for Boxcars to fit through, and more, and once one was down the steel ladder, there were two halls. One led to a decently sized room with a steel table and dim light where their 'interrogating' was held; more so beating the victim bloody until he was choking on his own vile crimson fluid, but ask any one of the Crew members, and they'd say it was an interrogation.
The other hall had multiple doors, a four to be exact, and a sink located at each door. Inside the rooms was merely a light and a drain in the middle of the floor. It came in handy when washing out fluid from the concrete of the floors, however it was nearly impossible to get all the blood out of said granite. Even Droog had a tough time ridding blood from the rooms, eventually just bleaching all of it and calling it a day.
2014-08-22 01:43:49 -
π
"You're a little late, there, Slick." Scratch said softly, stepping closer. "I already knew your middle name, I just meant you had never told it to me personally." Scratch almost wanted to volunteer the information that he had no actual middle name, but that was pointless right now. Gently, he removed Slick's hand from the passenger doorframe and closed it, perhaps the softest it had ever been closed. He returned Slick's hand to his side before turning to look up at him. Their height differences once again pronounced, he felt oddly embarrassed about it.
"I can escort myself home, thank you. You've more important things to attend to rather than see me back to the Manor, however genteel that notion is."
Scratch raised one hand, pausing discreetly before cupping Slick's cheek. The soft pad of his thumb gently trailed across his cheekbone, almost in an examining way, though it still made clear he was not angry or anything similar toward the other.
"I really did enjoy myself tonight. I realize you must go, however, and allow me to tell you this in good counsel and hopes I aid you, not to order you about or further my own ends: you had exited your hideout with the intent to smoke and noticed a strange vehicle moving through the area. Wanting to be more safe than sorry, you pursued at a respectable distance in your own. After exiting the car and leaving the radio inside, for purposes regarding stealth of course, you discovered Felt members going about some manner of shady business. Do not specify; you will not need to, considering when you attest to it you will be given your own backup."
Scratch knew Fin and Trace, either both of them or whichever was conscious at the time, would be panicked and willing to release certain details. If Slick said they had been in the area, Fin and Trace were present and then confirmed it, Slick would have his excuse. Scratch let his hand drop then, his voice having been hushed yet calming as he spoke.
"One last note before I go: Yes, I realize they need to be kept on a better leash, but... What are you going to do?" He half-smiled, finally showing some hint of weariness before backing away from Slick.
As bright and brief as a camera flash, Scratch had gone, veins of gold electricity arcing across his slender form. Within moments he was in his own office and a frown enveloped his features. He did not even sit before going to the door and opening it. There was business to address with the others, who, ironically enough, did not know that an actual kidnapping had occurred. Fin and Trace usually went off on their own, and while Crowbar should have wrangled them back into place himself, he'd overlooked it this once. That would need to be brought up, as well as what rescue attempts would be planned. And as he went downstairs, Scratch mused that perhaps he should have apologized in advance with Slick for said attempts.
2014-08-22 03:06:41 -
β
An internal slap was currently taking progress as Slick quickly recalls that Doc was able to know of things before they are even mentioned to him. So, undoubtedly he would know Slick's middle name, the taller supposed it would have just been more polite to have notified him of such anyway; regardless of this, he merely gives a reluctant grunt. This wasn't worth his attention right now, he needed to focus on a much bigger task before him, but foun himself still standing there even as Scratch stepped forward. Honestly, he doesn't know what he was waiting for, but the Crew leader merely stands there much like a manikin as the other lifts his hand from the car door, closes it gently, and puts the arm down at Slick's side. The need to argue against such an action doesn't even cross his mind, his thoughts too jumbled and running about to do any efficient countering.
When the Felt members gloved palm is against Slick's cheek though, his blue hue dilates, focusing on the present and not as to what was going on back at the hideout. In fact, the thought of what was occurring a few blocks away seems to vanish from his very mind. He doesn't even remember a touch as soft and gentle as the one currently on him, so he's both perplexed and a bit perturbed by it. Almost as soon as it was there, it was gone, and Slick had heard what Doc had explained to him (as vague as it was). He was at least able to piece together the last bit of what the opposing gangster said, knowing now that it was more then likely the Felt his Crew was dealing with right now. It still earned a confused expression from the taller, nose crinkling a bit as he was asked such a smug question. He was just about to retaliate against the other, but then there was a familiar bright flash, sparks of variating colors between the hues of like green and yellow, and the pale man was gone.
"... Smug bastard." He growled, seemingly irritated, but in fact was a bit flattered by the words of help.
After that, he'd quickly gotten into his car, stabbing the key into the ignition and almost as quickly speeding down the road. In a few minutes, a few loud screeches of black tires against pavement, and running a red light, he was parking in the usual spot before almost falling through the hatch hole. The fridge in the kitchen had been shoved off to the side, Deuce sitting quietly at the kitchen table with an exhausted expression. Slick didn't have time to find out why, and went down the second manhole-like opening before dropping to the fork between the two halls. The right side was eerily quiet, though he takes a left, finding one of the steel doors wide open, and steps into the doorway to see Droog leaning tiredly against a wall and Boxcars wiping his bloodied knuckles against his button up. Droog didn't even seem to notice Slick was there, both Trace and Fin being tied up in chair with rope around both of the wrists, ankles, torso, and knees. They definitely looked like they'd barely made it conscious through a round with Droog, said man gripping his upper right hould we with blood oozing from the gaps between his fingers. He was paler then usual, but not even that could be noticed over the cold, infuriated expression he held.
"What the hell is goin' on here?" Slick ordered to both Diamonds and Hearts, the two looking at him then, one glaring in utter irritability.
2014-08-22 03:47:42 -
π
After weaving his way through the dimly-lit halls and finding the main staircase, Doc Scratch descended and then hooked to the left, down the small doorway adjacent to the grand stair. The steps veered downward steeply, and the hall was narrow, opening out into another, darker and colder passageway. The green carpet here was beaten and old, and only from one end of the hall did light issue- the left, which Scratch made for at this point, opened out into a warm room that essentially functioned as a den, and which the Felt usually used for convening and indulging in all manners of shenanigans. When Scratch entered, however, any thermostat in the room would have told you the temperature had dropped by at least three degrees.
Crowbar was in the middle of reviewing a few floor plans, all set out on the pool table. When Scratch entered, he trailed off mid-sentence and looked up; other eyes followed his, and then the man continued, albeit in a more pressed manner. He felt he was being examined now, as did the others.
Crowbar followed the taller-than-Scratch trend, but it was clear that the latter really didn't care; Crowbar could be intimidating when necessary, but few could say they did the same with Scratch. The entire tone of the group shifted when he entered, acting more alert at once now that his supervision was over them. He let them go on uninterrupted, garnering that the night's "activities" were fruitful, and it was an overall success. As far as they knew, anyway. Scratch wondered how he'd broach this topic; it wasn't as if this was the first time the duo had snuck away from the rest of the group to return at a later time in the evening. He was glad not everyone was present, at any rate. Some others were off taking an inventory, and those in current attendance were Crowbar, Itchy, Doze, Stitch, Matchsticks, and Quarters.Β At least Scratch wasn't the shortest in the room. Itchy was mere inches from his own height, and Doze was a hair's breadth shorter, and only because of his slouch. Sometimes it made him feel a bit, well, small, in a group filled with such tall and brawny men. Snowman even had a couple inches on him. But maybe that aided him- such an unassuming figure held immense power.
"C-Can I help you, Scratch?" Crowbar asked after he noticed the other man looking over the large plots on the table. Inadvertently, everyone quieted their own conversations to listen in.
"Hm? Oh, no, there isn't anything I need."
"Okay, I-"
"Except..." Scratch's eyes swiveled up to Crowbar. "Everyone is present and accounted for, yes?"
"Yeah. Everyone else's turned in or finishing up stock." Crowbar replied, though a hint of suspicion had already overtaken him.
"So if I asked you as to where either Fin or Trace is, you could tell me?"
Crowbar's reply was no, followed by the expected "they always go off and do whatever before coming back", though by his point Crowbar voiced more of a hope than a fact.
Scratch just looked at him. He realized he should have put an end to that long ago; it never should have been acceptable behavior. He'd been a bit too slack in that regard, even after the new boundaries are installed.
"Why?" Crowbar asked, and his urgency matched everyone else's.
"That needs to stop. If you are in charge in the field, you are expected to take responsibility for everyone's engagements and activities. If that is too much for you, I am sure I can find a replacement. That is not the issue at hand however." Scratch looked down to the mess of papers, shifting them about and pulling a black and white map of the city up. The only other color was a red circle, the perimeter they were told to avoid. This was, obviously, Midnight Crew territory.
"I will walk you through this." Scratch said, and he could feel a bit of Crowbar's embarrassment himself. "Where are we?"
Crowbar put his index finger on one dot, a bit removed from the city. Felt Manor, of course.
"Good. Now where are the other two located?"
Crowbar's throat worked a bit. He made no move. "I. I don't know."
"And there lies our problem." Scratch said, voice calm and instructive, but measured to a degree they knew he meant business.
"But-"
"But I know." Scratch finished his sentence for him, something he rarely did. Usually because it indicated he was short on patience. "That is absolutely no excuse. And what I know, Crowbar, is that they are- here." Scratch moved one finger to press in the middle of the red perimeters.
Tense silence filled the room for a brief moment, before Stitch broke it with a resigned sigh. Scratch's eyes were stuck to Crowbar, trained on him with startling clarity.
"This is a problem, I hope you realize." Scratch said. Crowbar nodded to him. "How do you propose we fix it?"
The other man's eyes darted around, aware of the answer but in no mood to be shot down by Scratch. He knew now he was in hot water, but it was too late to leap from the pot.Β
"You're right, we will have to go inside." Scratch said. "But what then? None of you have ever actually /been/ inside of their headquarters. The layout is unknown. No matter who is sent in, the odds they will return are brutally low, too low for my tastes. That is their stronghold." Scratch's jewel-like eyes surveyed the small, gathered group. "You know I am a firm purporter of fixing your own mistakes, but I fear this will not be possible. Bartering would be ineffectual as well- those two have knowledge, and ability that can be forced out of them under threat. So what will we do?" Scratch allowed another silence to settle briefly. After it, he sighed. "Well, you aren't wrong. Nothing is what you all shall occupy yourselves with. I suppose this is something I'll have to handle myself."
2014-08-22 20:45:54