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]

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?

Maybe it was better to listen to the near-pacifist's suggestions first before they settled on anything that bordered on a kidnapping charge.

"An argument... yeah, that could work," he agreed, nodding slowly as he worked it through his processor. "It's pretty obvious that it's code anyway, so as long as she hears it, it might just work. And if it doesn't-" Well, they needed a plan B, obviously. Frown deepening for a split second, he finished, "- if it doesn't, I'll buy her a drink or something and see if that helps."

Depth Charge and the Scarecrow: honey-traps extraordinaire. So much for sophistication- or dignity.

The waitress returned with a tray before he could listen to the Scarecrow's answer to that- with a smile she unloaded two mugs of hot, dark liquid and a saucer of milk, telling them to call if they needed anything else before flitting off to the next guest. He blinked. So this was what coffee looked like?

[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.

He looked into his mug. Unless Depth Charge had had more exposure to them, it was going to take all they'd learned of humans thus far to make their plan go off without a hitch. "One of us is going to have to talk to her eventually if we're to get the information we need. Even with a different name, I don't know how well of a human I make, to be honest- though I don't expect either of us has that much experience with it."

Bringing the mug to his lips, the Scarecrow took a sip from it idly- his face scrunched instantly as he recognized the drink from his meeting with Javert, putting the mug back on the table. Oh, that did bring back awful memories.

[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?

He settled back down into his chair, waving a hand dismissively before cupping it to his temple. Was that a headache he could feel making itself at home in his head? "Forget it." He sighed. "Maybe we should talk to her together- you know, to catch each other's mistakes." Mostly he just wasn't sure if he liked the idea of leaving the Scarecrow by himself, either with Rosemarie or in the wings.

[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.

And if everything fell apart this time-- well. He could still feel the cold steel of the gun pressed against his back, cold and hard against his skin through the thin screen of his shirt. One bullet, one more chance. He didn't like their chances, but when had he ever put his faith in the roll of the dice anyway?

"Took the words out of my mouth. Let's get this show on the road." With that Depth Charge smiled ruefully, picked up his mug and drained half of the liquid- scaldingly hot and bitter even with the sugar the woman had promised was in there. It was unpleasant enough to twist his face with distaste, which presumably would just add to the realism of the situation.

Slamming the mug down hard, he fixed the Scarecrow with his sternest look and raised his voice just a fraction. "Where do you get off, talking to me like I don't know anything about anything? I'm a professional." It only occurred to him afterwards that he'd never even heard the Scarecrow shout, never mind argue. This was gonna be a long day.

[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."

[scalyfishman]

It was even odder than he'd imagined it would be, watching the Scarecrow get mad. Or pretend to get mad. That was probably what was making it weird- his roommate's perfectly accurate rise in tone, the expression scrunched up like an old newspaper, the way he was jabbing his finger at him as though poking out an optic were a reasonable course of action, all witnessing from behind the screen of knowing how fake it was. If they were lucky the people around them, Rosemarie included, would even buy it, so long as they didn't ham it up too much.

Which, as it turned out, was going to be more difficult to do than to say; the truth was, it was kind of therapeutic to shout it out, even over some mystery business that didn't exist. He'd built up a lot of frustration last night.

"Well, maybe if I wasn't always covering for you, I'd have a better rep," 'Richard Browning' retorted scathingly. "At least I can do my-" wait, he couldn't say 'slagging'- was he hesitating?- "-damn job!"

[scarefaux]

From the corner of his eye, the Scarecrow could see they were already successful in getting the attention of some of the other patrons: a head turned here, a sideways glance there. He could only hope Rosemarie was listening, but he knew to turn around and check for himself might give their act away. So far, so good- Depth Charge even seemed to be getting into it.

"You wouldn't have to cover for me if you didn't go makin' a mess of things in the first place!" he returned, getting to his feet as he pushed his palms into the table. "Can you only do your job when you're in trouble? Because you certainly go looking for it often!"

Oh, it seemed he was getting a little into the act, as well. He wasn't the type to vent his frustrations often, but that last line did hit him a bit close the moment it escaped his lips.

[scalyfishman]

The plating-on-a-chalkboard squeal as the Scarecrow's chair was pushed sharply back against the floor was more than loud enough to draw attention to the two of them and their little performance, but it was a matter of quality rather than quantity here: it didn't matter if the whole cafe was watching them bicker if Rosemarie wasn't gonna bite.

It wasn't the noise the chair made that made Depth Charge hesitate, though. As fake as this argument was supposed to be, the Scarecrow had just made an excellent point. All he'd managed to do since he'd gotten here was get himself knee-deep in slag, culminating in the events of last night. Maybe if he actually did do his job better and kept people out of trouble in the first place he wouldn't ever have had to play hero to try and fix things.

It's just realism. You're just trying to make this look good. Don't take it personally, DC.

"At least I know what trouble looks like!" He was up on his feet too, now. "You wouldn't know trouble if it slapped you in the face!" But that cut things close too, and, wrangling into submission the bouquet of self-defense he had poised on the edge of his tongue, Depth Charge forced himself towards their goal. I hear your client... "Like your client base. Where'd you find those basket cases?"

[scarefaux]

"Oh, you're one to talk," the Scarecrow retorted sharply, an emotion rising in him that he couldn't quite describe. It was a weight nestled in his chest- a creature that had been there for some time, but awakened at just that moment. He leaned forward with a huff, bringing himself only inches from Depth Charge's face, having to look up to see into his eyes. Had he always been that imposingly tall? Or was it only now that the strawman noticed because they were seemingly at odds?

No, they weren't at odds. That's what that feeling was, the Scarecrow reasoned- this was too close to the chest in both a literal and figurative sense.

"You'd know a thing or two about problematic clients, wouldn't you?" He tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, but that feeling welling in him refused to back down. Still, they had a job to do- any hidden truth behind their argument would have to wait. "I heard your client has been difficult lately. You act as though you don't care, like not having a heart will help you somehow, and I can tell you right now that it won't!"

[damned_soldiers]

Rosemarie, with her bright red hair and pale cream dress, looked up from her book long enough to offer a look to the gentlemen nearby. They had been arguing for some time now; the contents of which came as no concern to her. Superficially, at least. She finally made an unpleasant noise when one of the men saw fit to call the other heartless, and the woman turned to face them.

"I know this isn't my business, gentlemen," she began lightly, "but maybe you should both consider your taste in clients. Before you chase everyone out of this cafe." She leaned back into her chair, smiling with amusement at her own comment.

[scalyfishman]

Depth Charge knew that there was no point in reading into it too much when their entire argument was a performance for the benefit of their their audience of one, but at this point being reasonable was like putting the pin back in a grenade. Maybe this was how the Scarecrow went about things- too nice to say it up front, but too concerned to waste a channel to pour his thoughts through. Or maybe he was just that frustrated. Pit, he was frustrated with himself.

It was probably a good thing that the Scarecrow had dropped their key phrase into his side of the argument then- he'd have struggled to come up with a good enough rebuttal after that. And sure enough, mercifully distracting, their fish took the bait.

Rosemarie turned and smiled at them, throwing out a little wit as though it were wisdom. He'd have had a short answer for that at least, if they hadn't been undercover, but for the sake of the mission he reigned it in and went with natural response number two: looking suitably, gruffly embarrassed that they'd been caught out. "Looks like we got a little carried away there. Sorry about that," he said, lowering himself back into his own seat. He jerked his thumb at the Scarecrow. "I can't take this guy anywhere."

[scarefaux]

Though relieved Rosemarie seemed to have taken the bait, the Scarecrow couldn't help but feel a bit sheepish at their behavior, even if it had been an act. It had been, hadn't it? Well, it was clear they had a lot that needed to be said later; for now, there was more on the table than a few sore feelings between the two of them, and their concerns about each other would just have to wait.

The question was: now what did they do? They had her attention, but that wasn't enough.

"You can't take me?" he asked, turning his head back to Depth Charge a moment, still standing next to his seat. "You're the one who can't be taken anywhere." He paused for only a second, rethinking his words. "Though I guess if we're both acting like this, I suppose neither of us ought to be in public."

He turned where he stood, facing Rosemarie and giving her a rueful look. "I'm sorry, ma'am. You'll have to forgive us if we ruined your meal or anything- Richard and I just get caught up sometimes in our own problems."

It was another accidental truth, one that rang in his ears for several moments after he'd said it.

[damned_soldiers]

The two appeared to be in the nice range when it came to gentlemen; they at least has the gumption to offer their apologies for disrupting the patrons. Granted, a disruption was the last in her list of priorities, but for everyone involved, they had to keep up appearances, no? She laughed good naturally at the pair, waving off their apologies with her free hand.

"No harm done," replied Rosemarie. "You both sound incredibly stressed, though. Why not take a breather and enjoy your drinks?"

With forced pleasantries out of the way, she launched into the real matter. Obviously, these were the ones he had told her to look out for. Since they had so graciously dropped the code into her lap, the woman might as well follow-through. "Too much stress," she continued without pause, "will turn even an athlete into a guaranteed walking heart attack, you know. My ex-husband can vouch for that."

[scalyfishman]

Stressed? Rosemarie didn't know the half of it.

You try watching a kid fight a guy to the death all night, being blackmailed into doing some ridiculous army supervillain's dirty work and keep up with some ridiculous code, all while pretending to be a completely different species and therefore trying not to out both you and your roommate.

He'd tried to ignore the Scarecrow's final comment, as if that could protect his mood.

Still, they'd reeled her in. Now what? Yeah, they were supposed to get the name of some client of hers, but how? They didn't even know what said client was hiring her for- bomb expertise, private eye work, fixing their slagging moped? That particular part they had to navigate all without letting her know that they were angling for info. They could play it safe and nudge her towards the right way slowly, but who knew what would set her off? Or how much time they had?

Depth Charge opted for a cool laugh, as if he wasn't silently churning with possibilities and the strain of caution. "You're telling me. Work's crazy enough there days without this guy following me around." He rolled his eyes in the Scarecrow's direction- affectionately, this time. "It's nice to find time to relax."

[scarefaux]

The Scarecrow could see the change in Depth Charge's tone, his eyes less steely than they'd been only moments before: he was putting aside the argument for what needed to be done, as they should have before it got out of hand. The former strawman allowed himself a small smile- leave it to Depth Charge to have a good head on his shoulders.

Also putting their spat out of mind, the Scarecrow clung to Rosemarie's words, trying to grasp at any lead as to how they should go about asking for the information they needed. It was a touchy thing, the tricky conversation, especially when so much was foreign to him. What was an ex-husband? Or a heart attack, for that matter? Were those two related to their task, somehow? And was it something he ought to be concerned about, being that he was human and therefore had a heart?

Maybe that last bit could wait until he could ask someone who might know better- with his experiences at Landel's, he had a feeling questioning it at that second would ruin any chance they had at passing for regular flesh-and-blood folk. It would most certainly earn him a strange look.

He decided to take a safer route, tagging onto what Depth Charge was saying. "When we can, of course. Not much time for relaxing these days, especially with some of the people we work with."

The gears in the Scarecrow's mind turned, working his way toward their goal. The only idea that crossed his mind was being direct, and that didn't seem like a good one in the least; however, he supposed if they got nowhere fast (just how much time did they have to accomplish this, anyway? Surely they wouldn't leave patients out overnight) that risks would have to be taken.