Wandering Rocks pub, Ireland, Tuesday evening
Peter was alone in the back room of the pub. He flicked his hand out. Nothing happened. He tried doing it purposefully. Still nada. He tried it yet again, this time saying "Lightening!" and again with "Spark!"
Whole bunch of nothing.
"So you just yell it out?"
Peter turned and saw Caitlin in the doorway. She shrugged at him. "i'm just trying to understand how it works."
"That makes two of us," Peter told her. "So far, I got nothin'. God, you know, I can do all these things. It's just - I feel powerless."
"It's tough not knowing who you are," Caitlin said, not without sympathy.
Peter sighed. "Yeah, looks like I might just die before I ever figure it out."
"Maybe you're an extraterrestrial, escaped from a government facility," Caitlin suggested.
"Yeah, right," Peter scoffed. But he frowned. Somehow the idea of extraterrestrials wasn't strange to him. Or even scary. But the more he tried to chase the feeling down, the more it vanished inside of him, lost with all of his other memories.
Caitlin watched him grow thoughtful. "I have to admit, I'm pretty excited to see you open that box."
Peter had to admit that he personally had mixed feelings. Which was why, as frustrating as it was not to know who he was, he didn't really push Ricky on withholding the information from him well that and his player being sick for a WHOLE WEEK WTF body WTF. Peter couldn't shake his worry that if he'd forgotten who he used to be, he must've had a good reason for it.
Caitlin motioned towards the front of the pub. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Peter replied as he followed her.
Ricky had set up a meeting for his men, Peter, and Caitlin. He'd set up in the pub, seating himself at a table with Peter's box placed on it, but not out of Ricky's reach.
Peter sat down across from Ricky. He felt another wave of uncertainty as he looked at the box, but he did his best to hide it. Regardless of whether Peter was ready to know who he was, he didn't like the box being in someone else's possession. At least if he owned it it would be his choice whether or not to look inside.
"Tell me what I need to do to get my life back," Peter said.
"You mean this?" Ricky asked. He put his hand over the box. "The box with your identity in it? Sure. It's all yours. As long as you do us one favor, yeah? See, Celtic is taking on AC Milan."
"We're talkin' football, yeah?" Tuko said. "Soccer."
"I lost my memory. I'm not an idiot," Peter said, much though many both reading and/or writing the narrative here might've disagreed with him.
Ricky ignored them both so he could keep explaining. "The local sports book will be full of cash. After the match, all that money gets put in a lockbox and taken to an armored car."
"So you're gonna rob an armored car," Peter concluded. He wondered why the idea of two siblings doing less than legal things together in order to survive didn't automatically ring any warning bells from his conscience.
"All we're askin' is that you get rid of the guards before they call for help. Simple, really," Ricky said. "You help us get our box and I'll give you yours. Everyone wins."
Peter would've commented - possibly to point out the verbal stretch on using the word "box" in this situation that even small conversational tweaks couldn't really turn into something plausible-sounding - but he was distracted by the sound of Will, who to all appearances was finishing his drink at the bar.
Not everybody, sideshow. That cash is mine. Even if I have to kill you for it.
Peter turned around to look at Will. "What did you say?"
Will looked surprised. "I-I didn't say a word."
"You said you were gonna take the cash," Peter told him.
Tuko looked at Will. Will got to his feet. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"I heard what you said," Peter told him. He had no idea that, thanks to telepathy, he was the only person who heard what Will had said. Wanting to press his point, Peter turned back to Ricky. "He said it."
Ricky replied by grabbing Peter by the neck, clearly having no idea that somewhere out there Peter had a boyfriend who was going to be really pissed off about that. Likewise neither did Will and Tuko, who grabbed Peter and roughly moved him up against the bar. Caitlin watched, but didn't interfere.
Ricky moved to show Peter a tattoo on his arm. "You see that? That's the family crest. These lads are my brothers, and I trust 'em a hell of a lot more than I trust you."
"Why would I lie?" Peter demanded.
"I know Will. I don't know you," Ricky said. He indicated that Will and Tuko could let Peter go. He sat back down at the table, giving Peter one last look of disgust. "You don't even know yourself."
Peter sighed. It wasn't as though he could argue the point. He reminded himself he just needed to get his hands on his things, then... well then maybe he'd have some options.
Whole bunch of nothing.
"So you just yell it out?"
Peter turned and saw Caitlin in the doorway. She shrugged at him. "i'm just trying to understand how it works."
"That makes two of us," Peter told her. "So far, I got nothin'. God, you know, I can do all these things. It's just - I feel powerless."
"It's tough not knowing who you are," Caitlin said, not without sympathy.
Peter sighed. "Yeah, looks like I might just die before I ever figure it out."
"Maybe you're an extraterrestrial, escaped from a government facility," Caitlin suggested.
"Yeah, right," Peter scoffed. But he frowned. Somehow the idea of extraterrestrials wasn't strange to him. Or even scary. But the more he tried to chase the feeling down, the more it vanished inside of him, lost with all of his other memories.
Caitlin watched him grow thoughtful. "I have to admit, I'm pretty excited to see you open that box."
Peter had to admit that he personally had mixed feelings. Which was why, as frustrating as it was not to know who he was, he didn't really push Ricky on withholding the information from him well that and his player being sick for a WHOLE WEEK WTF body WTF. Peter couldn't shake his worry that if he'd forgotten who he used to be, he must've had a good reason for it.
Caitlin motioned towards the front of the pub. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Peter replied as he followed her.
Ricky had set up a meeting for his men, Peter, and Caitlin. He'd set up in the pub, seating himself at a table with Peter's box placed on it, but not out of Ricky's reach.
Peter sat down across from Ricky. He felt another wave of uncertainty as he looked at the box, but he did his best to hide it. Regardless of whether Peter was ready to know who he was, he didn't like the box being in someone else's possession. At least if he owned it it would be his choice whether or not to look inside.
"Tell me what I need to do to get my life back," Peter said.
"You mean this?" Ricky asked. He put his hand over the box. "The box with your identity in it? Sure. It's all yours. As long as you do us one favor, yeah? See, Celtic is taking on AC Milan."
"We're talkin' football, yeah?" Tuko said. "Soccer."
"I lost my memory. I'm not an idiot," Peter said, much though many both reading and/or writing the narrative here might've disagreed with him.
Ricky ignored them both so he could keep explaining. "The local sports book will be full of cash. After the match, all that money gets put in a lockbox and taken to an armored car."
"So you're gonna rob an armored car," Peter concluded. He wondered why the idea of two siblings doing less than legal things together in order to survive didn't automatically ring any warning bells from his conscience.
"All we're askin' is that you get rid of the guards before they call for help. Simple, really," Ricky said. "You help us get our box and I'll give you yours. Everyone wins."
Peter would've commented - possibly to point out the verbal stretch on using the word "box" in this situation that even small conversational tweaks couldn't really turn into something plausible-sounding - but he was distracted by the sound of Will, who to all appearances was finishing his drink at the bar.
Not everybody, sideshow. That cash is mine. Even if I have to kill you for it.
Peter turned around to look at Will. "What did you say?"
Will looked surprised. "I-I didn't say a word."
"You said you were gonna take the cash," Peter told him.
Tuko looked at Will. Will got to his feet. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"I heard what you said," Peter told him. He had no idea that, thanks to telepathy, he was the only person who heard what Will had said. Wanting to press his point, Peter turned back to Ricky. "He said it."
Ricky replied by grabbing Peter by the neck, clearly having no idea that somewhere out there Peter had a boyfriend who was going to be really pissed off about that. Likewise neither did Will and Tuko, who grabbed Peter and roughly moved him up against the bar. Caitlin watched, but didn't interfere.
Ricky moved to show Peter a tattoo on his arm. "You see that? That's the family crest. These lads are my brothers, and I trust 'em a hell of a lot more than I trust you."
"Why would I lie?" Peter demanded.
"I know Will. I don't know you," Ricky said. He indicated that Will and Tuko could let Peter go. He sat back down at the table, giving Peter one last look of disgust. "You don't even know yourself."
Peter sighed. It wasn't as though he could argue the point. He reminded himself he just needed to get his hands on his things, then... well then maybe he'd have some options.