Day 58: Mission #1 [Scarecrow and Depth Charge]

[scarefaux]

[From here.]It was not the hallway they found on the other side of the door. The crossing of the threshold was accompanied by that spinning sensation in the Scarecrow's middle- similar to feeling he'd had the night the doors were enchanted- and it was no mystery of why: they had been spirited away to somewhere else entirely. Decorated tables,

Comments

[scalyfishman]

Depth Charge knew he should have been more prepared for what hit them beyond the doors, but the helter-skelter vertigo of walking out of the room and into their mission, like flying through a worm hole all over again, was enough to throw him completely for a nanoklik. Even if he hadn't been expecting a war zone after reading through that folder it was still disarming to be presented with, of all things, fresh flowers and the smell of baking

[scarefaux]

"I suppose," the Scarecrow answered, still eyeing the rest of the room. He didn't yet see the woman- Rosemarie- that they were supposed to be looking for. He gave himself a nod of encouragement- they had a little time to plan ahead. Though simply asking for the client's name would have been easy enough, it was the part about doing it covertly that made the situation tricky. Adding pressure was the fact that there was so much at stake: they'd said they'd punish everyone should things go badly, which meant the job had to be done and there'd be no chance for anything like an escape, as tempting as it sounded. It wasn't as though life at Landel's was ideal as it was- he wasn't about to let someone else take his punishment if he could help it

[scalyfishman]

Loose though his posture was, Depth Charge could feel tension bubbling under the surface of his easiness. Where were they, exactly? How far away from the Institute? This wasn't Doyleton, that was for sure. And if they were far away, were they being monitored? How closely? He glanced around, searching the corners for security cameras before moving on to his jacket, his pockets, for bugs. Nothing. Well, nothing obvious.

Even so, his hand stopped over a bulge in his left pants pocket; frowning, he patted it again before taking out the contents. A leather wallet. Curious, he moved to open it, and-

The little 'oh!' was enough to draw his attention away immediately, innocuous though it was. His eyes were on the Scarecrow just in time to catch the glint of metal before it vanished behind the bulk of his jacket. "Slag, Scarecrow-!" he said quickly, but the gun was already hidden from view. Of course they'd give the gun to the Scarecrow. Slagging amateursEyes darting quickly to the side- no, no one was watching- he gave his roommate an

[scarefaux]

If they were careful- the Scarecrow had to admit it wasn't terribly reassuring, given the circumstances of the situation. A nod of compliance was his only return to Depth Charge's request, his eyes watching the wallet on the table. This was no time to panic; it would only make things worse

[scalyfishman]

Depth Charge couldn't help but feel a little safer with the gun in his hands rather than the Scarecrow's; he at least had an idea of how to operate it safely. He also had a sneaking suspicion, as he tucked it carefully into the back of his pants so that it was hidden by his jacket, that he'd be the only one of the two of them with the willpower to use it, should the need arise. Having said that, constituted 'need' for the Maximal was likely a far cry from what it meant to the Institute- he wasn't going to shoot this thing unless their lives were in danger. No way

[scarefaux]

"Oh, but it started in your pocket," the Scarecrow returned, still running the details through his head. It was more complicated than just taking someone's outfit and sneaking into a castle: they had to actually fool someone into believing nothing was out of the ordinary, and human standards for 'ordinary' were very strange, indeed. Watching his words would be more of a necessity than it had ever been before, and he wasn't entirely sure he was up for the task.

The cogs in his mind turned. He assumed 'Cybertron' was where Depth Charge was from; as for what 'paying with' meant, he still wasn't sure. He thought to ask- and really, he should have asked Sangamon about the cards during the trip. If only he'd known then what he'd be facing later- but hadn't the chance before the waitress returned.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" She pulled the pen from her hair a second time, ready to take their orders.

"I'll have whatever Richard here is having," the Scarecrow answered quickly. Well, that settled that.

[scalyfishman]

A compelling argument, if it weren't for the fact that the Institute had been the ones to plant it on him in the first place. As far as either of them knew, the second they handed the card over to pay with they'd end up being crisply informed that 'Richard Browning' was in fact the name of an ancient old woman they were used to seeing as a regular around here. Not that Depth Charge thought that the military would want to screw their own mission, but he didn't put it past them to throw in a few deliberate hiccups

[scarefaux]

As Depth Charge dealt with the waitress, the Scarecrow took another glance around the room, trying to keep an eye on the door without raising suspicion. His look was rewarded: just as his eyes made it past the entryway, in walked a woman matching the description from the folder

[scalyfishman]

So they'd been abandoned out here with not enough knowledge between them to recognise a cup of coffee when they saw one.

Gear.

Depth Charge sighed again and it came out sounding like it'd been played through a rusty engine: guttural and just faintly defeated. Maybe they'd been better off outright refusing to play in the first place, seeing how the badly the game had been rigged- there were just as many consequences for failing as there were for turning them down. At least that way they'd have walked away with their pride.

But they didn't really have time to contemplate something as superfluous as pride right now, as the Scarecrow aptly proved a moment later. "What? Where?" How had he managed to miss her arriving? It wasn't as though they were that far from the door. Stupid, stupid, letting himself drift away into self-pity like a bolt-brain rather than paying attention to his surroundings

[scarefaux]

Now that was a good question: how were they supposed to get Rosemarie's attention without raising her suspicions of who they actually were? They would presumably have only one chance; they couldn't afford to make a mistake. While the Scarecrow was confident that, so long as they were together, the two of them could handle any way the situation went- good or bad- he still had the fate of the other patients on his mind. It certainly was a weight

[scalyfishman]

They both seemed to fall into silent deliberation, weighing up their options. Depth Charge wrapped his fingers on the table impatiently, as if appearing irritated enough would shame an idea into turning up for him. How would he have done it back in his old universe? If she'd known about X and he needed the information? Bugged the table and sent someone less obvious in. Hmm. Held her at gunpoint under the table 'til she spilled it? Probably not the careful, reasoned approach they were looking for here. Anyway, what if she was armed too

[scarefaux]

The Scarecrow accepted his drink from the waitress, giving her a quick thanks as she walked away. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea, either," he said with a nod, pulling his mug toward him as he filed away the notion that a drink would help matters when it came to initiating conversation. While there were others of flesh-and-blood in Oz, they weren't exactly the same as the people with whom he and Depth Charge were trying to blend: they didn't expect talking scarecrows or good witches or even a pair of shoes with the magic to grant one's heart's desire. Dorothy herself had said that much, and until his arrival at Landel's, she was the only person he'd met who was like that

[scalyfishman]

"You're telling me," Depth Charge agreed, cupping his mug uncertainly. A thick, bitter smell rose on the steam, and the Maximal wasn't sure if it was entirely pleasant. Aromatic, yes- but the same thing could be said of Rattrap. "I've been human for... what, twenty days? Not exactly a lifetime."

Which was exactly what they'd be up against here. How 'alien' did he come across, anyway? It was already obvious that he'd have to drop the slang (now there was a lifetime's habit to break- he'd always been told to clean his voice capacitor), but there were so many little quirks he'd heard from those around him. Talking like S.T. was out of the question, so maybe like Peter...?

The Scarecrow's expression crumpled, and Depth Charge snapped out of his thoughts like a shot. "Is it-?!" Poisoned was how he was supposed to end that sentence, but the fact that the guy'd put it back on the table again almost instantly was proof enough against that. Stupid thought. Why would they poison them when they were in cognito still

[scarefaux]

Having completely missed Depth Charge's momentary panic, the Scarecrow's mind wandered to other things- namely regret over having sipped the coffee, as he now had that flavor stuck in his mouth, but he also considered the latest suggestion. Depth Charge had a good point: talking to her together, if they could get her attention at all, might be the best route- he wasn't sure he should try to manage things with his brain the way it was, Depth Charge needed someone to keep a hold on him in case things didn't go as planned, and between the two of them, surely they had enough knowledge to make for one passable human.

He gave a nod to the idea. "Together it is, then. I'm sure as long as we put our minds to it, there's nothing we can't do."

The waitress returned to Rosemarie's table for a moment to drop off her drink before leaving the woman alone once more. "I'm ready for an argument any time you are."

[scalyfishman]

Now there was something he hadn't seen in a while, that unshakeable optimism, insurmountable as a sheer slagging cliff face even in the face of the Institute's best- or worst. More suprisingly, though, it was catching. Primus, if they couldn't manage to sound even slightly human between the two of them, how the Pit were they supposed to get anywhere in this world? They were in the lionoids' den now- it was about time they learned how to tame 'em

[scarefaux]

For a man who spooked himself quite frequently- and felt a little more like Lion each time, but he supposed it was natural for someone with a breakable, human body to be more cautious than a being made of straw- the Scarecrow surprised even himself by not jumping at Depth Charge's change in tone. He was as prepared as he could be for what was to come. Of course, not knowing if the plan would work at all, or what was to come even if it did, made preparation nearly impossible; however, the Scarecrow was absolutely certain they'd make it through. One of them had to be.

Besides, if there was anything he knew Depth Charge could do well, it was look convincingly angry.

"A professional, are you?" he said as he raised his own voice, mirroring the expression upon Depth Charge's face. He leaned across the table, pointing a finger at his roommate in the most accusatory manner he could muster. "I can't imagine anyone would call you that with the way you act sometimes."