neverknocks: (68)
Agent York / Natalie van der Haast ([personal profile] neverknocks) wrote in [community profile] outsiderslogs2013-04-09 12:31 pm


who. York ([personal profile] neverknocks) & Marco ([personal profile] tradecraftdude)
what. Marco finally drags his ass back to The Quad to explain his shiny new job to York
where. The Quad
when. right now!
warnings. gratuitous amounts of snark, probably

It's a slow night at The Quad. Davrax's plan to cash in on the water shortage by encouraging people to drink an inadvisable amount of alcohol was never a very sustainable strategy; after a couple of days of that, the bar reeks of stale ryncol sweat and The Quad's previously enthusiastic patrons are no longer quite so keen to dive into a hangover with so little water around. So it's slower, tonight, and rather than serving drinks York's spending most of her shift catching up on the shit-awful backlog of cleaning that needs to be done around here.

So she's behind the bar, trying to get through the almost ludicrous pile of dirty glasses and shakers and empty bottles that have piled up behind the bar in the last couple of days of the rush. York isn't exactly the world's biggest fan of cleaning, but she'd rather wash a few dishes than confront the horror that almost certainly awaits her in the bathrooms. She's not sure there's any human with a strong enough stomach to brave that mess. She'll leave that to her batarian coworker. But hey, at least she's made a lot in tips the last couple of days. As it turns out, dehydration and intoxication do a lot to a person's judgment when it comes to money.
tradecraftdude: 04 (cute charming witty and modest)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-09 08:23 pm (UTC)(link)
It's been days since the hit, and Marco hasn't left his apartment since. The reason was part paranoia, part decompression, and all constant vegging out watching whatever crap videos he could find on the extranet. He didn't have a hard time explaining the sudden influx of slothness to his roommate; the pizza shop closed up because they ran out of stock to sell. They had offered to outsource him to running supplies for the group working on fixing the water problem, but he declined that for unstatable reasons.

Marco is one smelly kid by the time he gets around to dragging himself to the Quad. It's the first time he's encountered fresh air in a while, and his rumpled, baggy hoodie is all sorts of grody from having contained a teenage boy marinating in cold sweat for days. Under the hoodie is a light chest plate, something that isn't obviously bulky, won't save him from someone who actually wants to kill him, but makes him feel better in case someone tries to put a knife between his ribs and doesn't notice the armor.

The swagger in his step as he walks up to the bar and hops onto a stool is substantially more forced than usual, and he sweeps the entire room with a quick nervous glance before he speaks, but he's still cracking a grin once he gets York's attention.

"So I'm assuming none of the soda taps are running at this point, meaning you clearly don't have a choice besides giving me a shot of bourbon today, right?"
tradecraftdude: 09 (let me get this straight)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-10 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, if I cough it out of my nose, it's not gonna give me a hangover, right? C'mon, York, I must have earned it."

On second thought, he eyes the glass she's rubbing and wonders what the rag is even damp with. Do krogans sweat? He sighs and leans on the bar, propping his chin in his hand.

"Anyway, it's been a dull, smelly week. I'm lucky my roommate's inorganic, 'cause that means I don't have to smell him."

He's being careful, too guarded. The Quad might have just a sprinkling of zonked out drunks, but that doesn't mean Marco's willing to run his mouth.
Edited (typo sniping) 2013-04-10 05:15 (UTC)
tradecraftdude: 02 (pubescent disbelief)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-11 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Marco would have beeen kidding himself if he thought that showing up at the Quad somehow wouldn't result in York dragging answers out of his mouth, but that doesn't mean he's any less reluctant once she drops more signs that this was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

At least she's being nice about it. He can appreciate that. Sort of.

"York, are you trying to be inappropriate? 'cause as much as I think you're a total babe, I'd like to stick with girls closer to my own age."

Defense mechanisms are not disengaging. Still, he's slipping down off the stool to follow her.
tradecraftdude: 03 (this is my skeptic face)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-12 12:18 am (UTC)(link)
"What is this, your interrogation room?" Marco is cooly distant as he takes the other seat, and he doesn't bother getting terribly cozy. This isn't going to be a cozy experience.

His expression barely changes from its well-practiced adolescent disdain while York lectures him, except when he bats at her hand as she gives his head a thump. The moment she opened her mouth, he put her in the rapidly growing category of people who, for some crazy reason or another, decided that his well being was part of their business; the more she nags, the greater the gap that grows between them.

"Yeah, okay, York, chalk this up to good old teenage self destructive habits and call it a day." He folds his arms, the creaking of the body armor under his hoodie reminding him of the amount of trouble he has very rapidly gotten himself into, as if he was in danger of forgetting.

"Besides," he continues, his eyes darkening a shade, "you're not beautiful enough to be my mother anyway."

Who does she think she is, anyway? She's being way closer to him than he thinks she gets to be, and he can't forget that she knew some weird time warp version of himself; his gaze is coldly calculating as he stares her down, trying to figure out how much she thinks she knows him.
tradecraftdude: 00 (Default)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-13 07:47 pm (UTC)(link)
If Marco was less ridiculously stressed out, he'd have better comebacks, but somehow, even though he's done little else besides sleep, lounge about, and sleep some more, he's still pretty drained. The patience required to keep being amusing had run out as soon as they entered the back room.

His gaze remains distant while York talks; it isn't even that she's not saying the right things, so much as she's saying any of this at all. He's kicking himself for even bothering to show up, because what did he think they were going to talk about, the Knicks game?

But if he even lets himself have two seconds of introspection, he'll realize that he's both terrified and lonely; he joined up with the mercs for the sake of having more backup, but it's rapidly turning out that having 'Eclipse' on his resume meant more guns pointed at him than guns pointed back. He doesn't have anything resembling a safety net---at least not the sort of safety net he wants. Everyone he knows either wants to kill him, babysit him, or he can't trust them. What he needs are friends.

Just like what York is probably offering right now.

"What are you gonna do, then, join up next to me and call yourself my bodyguard?" Oops, still feeling mean. "Because you know what, York, I'm also pretty interested in not dying. And as far as I can tell, pretty much the way to minimize that on this junk heap is to have some ridiculously huge combination of money and firepower to your name, or go home. I don't see you in any position to like, offer me a lift to earth circa 1997 or contribute to my personal protection racket."

He's starting to look antsy, just some scared, lonely kid who's on the verge of getting up and stomping off to avoid having to listen to this conversation anymore. Between this and their last encounter, York is proving herself to be annoying persistent in making him talk, and he's getting fed up with it.
tradecraftdude: 04 (cute charming witty and modest)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-17 09:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Marco's first interaction with York was seeing her in heavy armor, running off a whole pack of batarian thugs with not much more than a dirty look, so he's pretty aware that she's got more than enough bite to match her bark. He's taking that into consideration as he continues to stare her down. Sizing her up. Seeing how much she means what she says---all of it, probably---and what it means for him.

If Marco had a chance to decide his entire future for himself, this certainly wasn't anywhere near a part of it. He'd have picked lots of things like the best cable TV subscription god had saw fit to bestow upon man, every video game magically appearing in his possession the moment it's released, the removal of all invasive alien species from his planet, and the nice happy cozy family life of his increasingly distant childhood. Someday, someone would notice how witty and good-looking he is and offer him a slot next to Letterman, and he'd roll around in piles of money and Hollywood babes until he died a happy old man in his mansion.

As much as he dreams and whines about how the world refuses to meet his expecations, though, he's a realist at the end of the day. A realist who doesn't know how to make the call for right versus wrong, but at least knows how to decide which path gives him the best chance to survive.

These days, it's basically all down to survival.

"Alright, I'm game. But I'm not sure where you're gonna get a steady supply of dead bodies to show me so I can learn how to cull the gag reflex." He cracks a smirk at her, a darker one than he usually does, but a good-natured one all the same. "But hey, you don't ask me too many questions about my line of work, and I won't ask you about yours, capisce?"
soldad: (there's plenty of good thieves)

swaggies into this thread (sorry)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-18 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur's already reported his kill to the people that need to know, gotten the armor that brands him as an eclipse merc. Now, granted, he's not wearing it yet; but he is carrying the helmet. Dressed in his normal sacrosanct-issued armor, he walks into the Quad. You can barely tell he hasn't showered, since he keeps his hair slicked back anyway.

He doesn't spot York away, and he's about to sit down at the bar when glances at the back room and sees York leaning back against the desk, and he nods to himself.

He'd promised to keep straight with her, and telling her about Eclipse was probably a good idea. So, he heads to the back room, carefully knocking on the door and then sticking his head in.

"Hey, York," he says, and then his gaze falls on the smaller of the other two rooms occupants. "Hey, Marco." That's a little awkward, they'd gone seperate ways after the assissination.
tradecraftdude: 07 (wait for it)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-18 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)
It was more of a line he's always wanted to say, rather than something he actually expects to hold water here, but the sentiment is appreciated nonetheless. He shrugs when she asks him about a weapon.

"I'm on a nice loaner program at the moment. The less stuff I have laying around, the less I'm going to incriminate myself, right? I live with Robo-freaking-cop, for crying out lou--"

He cuts himself short as he notices someone approaching the back room, then nearly falls out of his chair as Arthur, of all people, saunters by. Speaking of loaner programs.

"Yo, Artie. Fancy, uh, hat you've got there."
soldad: (huff huff)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-19 04:15 am (UTC)(link)
"We've met," Arthur says, glancing away from Marco to York, finally. They're in the same merc group now but really, Arthur doesn't know if York knows or not - the idea was to not tell. "He's delivered a few pizzas to my place."

He sets the helmet against his hip. It's not that he was excited about telling York what was going on, but she needed to know when he got into things.

"Yeah, I've got myself some new buddies," he says dryly, but his gaze glances back to Marco.
tradecraftdude: 08 (send halp)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-19 10:56 am (UTC)(link)
Man, that's a lot of tension that just suddenly popped up in one place.

Marco sucks in a deep breath, looking between these two people he barely knew, but both knew each other, and both held pretty similar pieces of his own secrets in their hands. So here's Arthur, openly broadcasting his mercie allegiance to York, who knows Marco is up to something similar but doesn't know the details. Meanwhile, York knows more of what's in his head, and, as far as he can tell, more about the other version of him; Arthur's just a professional collaborator at the moment, and the less he knows about Marco, the better.

If time-outs happened outside of gym class dodgeball games, Marco would really like to call one at the moment. Alas, reality.

"Really, Art? Pizzas? That's all I am to you?" A mock-scandalized look of pain over being so casually brushed aside works its way onto Marco's face as he grabs his own chest. "After you couldn't take your eyes off me when we first met? And how I reminded you of someone in your distant past? And don't forget that time we had a secret rendezvous to commit sweet clandestine murder together!"

Might as well get everyone on the same page as quickly as possible. He'll keep secrets from the rest of the station, but this would get complicated fast if he tried to keep things from these two. Based on York's reaction, they'd talk as soon as he left the room regardless.

"She knows, dude, it's chill."
soldad: (huff huff)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-22 05:31 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur rolls his eyes heavenward when Marco mentions sweet clandestine murder. This was honestly something he was hoping to avoid, but, well, any version of Marco is Marco. He should have known that.

"So I gathered," He tells Marco when he mentions that York knows, glancing at the kid and then to York. Ouch, he's been on the recieving end of that look, but not from York in particular.

Still, he squares his shoulders. Marco came to him when he made his bed, Arthur only provided what he needed to get the job done. And maybe backup.

"Best I can get," he replies after a moment, thinking of the pistol. "Maybe I could start a business on the side, charge for it." Another glance to Marco, "Current company excepted."
tradecraftdude: 04 (cute charming witty and modest)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-22 04:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"Is that excepted as in I'm not allowed, or excepted as in I get freebies?" Marco folds his arms and kicks his legs up on the desk, mimicking York. He's enjoying the heat not being on him for once in the past week, even though Arthur probably doesn't really deserve it. What was York expecting, that he'd just be abandoned to get the job done on his own? "Because I better be getting freebies, or else I'm going to be one dead unarmed merc pretty fast."

It doesn't really occur to Marco that he could probably save Arthur some pain by explaining that he asked for help, not that Arthur enabled him into the job.

"But really, dude? 'Arthur's Murder Weapon Rentals'? It's got a nice, macabre ring to it, but your business model might be, y'know, a tad suspicious."
soldad: (control your subconscious)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-24 05:37 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur knows where this is probably headed - a discussion at best if he's lucky, and suddenly he feels like the bad father in this equation - but he steps further in, away from the door and to the side. York wants to talk, he'll talk.

He sets the helmet down, the space Yorick to this conversation, and nods a little.

"Nice seeing you, Marco." He can't resist a dry bit of wit.
tradecraftdude: 09 (let me get this straight)

[personal profile] tradecraftdude 2013-04-24 02:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Marco nearly falls out of his chair as his feet get shoved; he's about to retaliate with a complaint, but even he can't miss that tone in York's voice. He wants to sulk about getting thrown out, but when Arthur's demeanor also makes it clear that Marco should scram, he sighs and trudges for the door.

"Okay, okay, I know when I'm not loved. I'll see you later, York." He holds up a fist for Arthur to bump. "Good luck in there, dude."
soldad: (there's plenty of good thieves)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-25 03:12 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur bumps Marco's fist back amenably, and watches him leave, door closing a bit behind him. He looks back to York with his own eyebrows raised up.

"I didn't get much of a chance." This is partly true, but Arthur also hadn't breathed a word of objection when Marco came to him, or turned him away. "He'd already taken the contract when he came to me."
soldad: (let's go over this again)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-26 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
Years of dealing Dom Cobb mean that Arthur's able to handle this a little better than if someone he cared about was arguing with him for the first time. It still smarts a little, and more to the point, York has a point - one that might stick to someone with more of a moral code.

He grinds his jaw a little still before responding.

"No, he hadn't finished it, but if I told that thirteen year old no, would that have stopped him? It's Marco," he says, because it is, even if it's younger. "He would have gone to someone else, maybe even been hurt."

And honestly, it hadn't been Arthur's place. It was Marco's life, not Arthur's.

"This way, at least I know what he's up to."
soldad: (check yoself before you wreck yoself)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-27 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur's shoulders are tense until she apologizes, and then he relaxes a tiny bit. He's watched her pace the room, and he knows that she's just venting at him.

He treats it like water off a ducks' back, since that's just plain easiest.

"He's stubborn as hell," he agrees after a moment. "And if I thought it'd make a difference, I would have told him no. But better me than one of the aliens," he says, nodding to the slightly open door. "He's a good shot, too."

It's not much of a comfort, knowing that Marco takes to it okay. Not great, no, but he doesn't think telling York how Marco reacted the first time is prudent.

"He didn't like it," Arthur adds after a moment, though. "It's not a game to him or something he shrugged off."
soldad: (cleaning up)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-04-29 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"I knew he wasn't dumb, but I was wondering how you knew," Arthur admits after a moment with a wry sort of look in her direction. When she apologizes he shakes his head.

"It's okay. This place is different," he says. "Merc work isn't my first choice but I don't have a lot of other options going on."

After a moment, he speaks. "I want to eventually get out to that relay they keep talking about. The one that brought us here that's supposedly broken."
soldad: (you have something to say?)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-05-15 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
"What if it's not broken?" Arthur says after a moment, then shakes his head. "I mean, you have a point, I won't know heads from tails. But if I can find someone who does and get us out there, I'll feel better about where we're standing.

"As for the how," he rubs his hand over his eyes. "That's what I'm working on."
soldad: (damn it)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-05-17 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
"I think some people honestly like it here," Arthur says with a slow shake of his head. He sets his chin in his hand.

"I've been talking to people. I can't just flat-out ask, but I'm gonna see if any of them pan out. Maybe someone wants to get out of here. Or go home."
soldad: (amused)

[personal profile] soldad 2013-05-17 06:40 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur looks at her with a mildly surprised expression, then away again. She'd disappeared before Delta had made his offer, and - well, he wasn't about to tell her he'd made the choice to go home once before.

"I meant someone more along the lines of a native, trying to get back to a home planet. Gotta be someone stuck here that didn't mean to be."