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

[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

[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

[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

[damned_soldiers]

Fortunately for the men, Rosemarie was going to simplify matters. She had, after all, a task to complete in this little exchange as well as time constraints of her own. Of course, the woman couldn't just give away the name. No, they had to pass a criteria first.

Then they could have what was sought.

"I know what you mean," she said, nodding in their general direction. Her book was thoroughly ignored. "I'm working with a man right now. High-profile, apparently. He has some strange obsession with Monet paintings." The woman smirked in a mix of pain and affection, a bittersweet expression. "Real crazy, this man. He wouldn't let me sleep for two days until I found Camille Monet on her deathbed. Disturbing little picture."

With a strange look on her face still in place, Rosemarie paused. "Military officers are strange people. Avoid them at all cost."

[scalyfishman]

Sounded as though the Scarecrow was on the same tack as him: easy does it. Not Depth Charge's favourite strategy, but he wasn't stupid. They moved the conversation like safe-crackers, turning the dial a fraction and listening carefully for the click that would hopefully signify a breakthrough- or a security system being alerted and aiming all weapons in their direction.

It came sooner than expected, at Rosemarie's own pace.

The woman's expression struck Depth Charge before the contents of her answer, a cocktail of emotions he could half-empathise with- and then the pause. Military officers...?

ClickSlag it. He'd spent all this time assuming she wasn't going to want to talk, that they were going to have to lead her into it- but was she here specifically to tell them what they needed to know? And did that mean that she'd been talking in code this whole time while they'd rambled about some false rivalry and work

[scarefaux]

Or maybe a risk wouldn't have to be taken: rather than letting them work their way into the topic, it was Rosemarie who, in a surprising turn, brought up the military. The Scarecrow couldn't stifle his look of astonishment quickly enough as the implication that she might know why they were there- and possibly what they were looking for- hit him. There was no way to really tell for sure, unfortunately

[damned_soldiers]

Anyone with an eye could see: the men had caught onto her attempt at code. It was poor at best, but the one who had sent her wanted the words to be simple. For a child to understand. Rosemarie was not here to make small talk or discuss the intricacies of business. Rather, she existed to pass on a message.

One she hadn't a clue was now falling into the wrong hand.

Rosemarie tilted her head forward, contemplating their answers. "Who knows, right?" She laughed nervously. "I don't think even the public understands their movements. Though--" The skinner man was acknowledged, and the woman nodded at his statement. "--not all are that bad. There are a few good men, if you'll excuse the cheesy reference.

"Like my Monet fanatic. He's in it for the right reasons."

[scalyfishman]

It probably helped, having the Scarecrow's gentle trust to temper the Maximal's own flat cynicism; if he'd been by himself, Depth Charge had to admit, he'd have been monitoring himself and his words to the point of infuriating himself. Oh, he was still tense, but perhaps not quite in the way he might have been. Anyway. Tension did terrible things to him

[scarefaux]

Listening to both Depth Charge and Rosemarie, the Scarecrow took another tentative sip of his drink, only to have his nose crinkle a second time as he remembered why he'd stopped after the first one. He admittedly knew about as much about the military as he did about being human: very little, as neither operated the same way they did in Oz. That feeling of inadequacy rose in him again, as though nothing he did would make things work in the way they hoped. He may as well have been stuck on a pole in a cornfield again for as much good as he felt he could do

[damned_soldiers]

Her expression turned wistful, an unspoken want behind her seemingly pleasant facade. "You're right," Rosemarie replied, voice soft. If only their actions could be forgotten, even at the cost of a better perspective...

Here, her eyes wandered to the book in her hands. As if struck by a thought, the woman reached in and pulled out her laminated bookmark. This should fulfill the objective quite nicely, as much as the men had passed her criteria. "Sorry to have chosen something depressing as a distracting topic, gentlemen. Hopefully my suffering has made you feel better at least," she said as Rosemarie held the object out to the pair. "Here. A gift."

It was an ordinary bookmark with a bright red tassel. On one side was the aforementioned Camille Monet on her deathbed. The other contained the words "Prescott Gallery" with the signature of its most prized patron:

Major Claude P. Harrington.

[scalyfishman]

Depth Charge could see the Scarecrow's hands shaking in his peripheral vision; if he listened carefully below the clatter of the cafe, below the thrum of his own thoughts, he would probably hear the man's teeth clinking uncomfortably against the rim. It was unlike the Scarecrow to be so quiet, so obviously nervous without any obvious danger.

Well. Any obvious danger to them.

He didn't need to look straight at Rosemarie to know they were through- it was clear enough from her voice, and then, as she reached for her book, from her 'gift'.

The Maximal took it with a nod, doing his best to conceal the fact that he'd never seen an object like it before though its function seemed clear enough. As he turned it over in his hands, though, its real purpose in their conversation became clear- and his blood turned cold with acceptance. Major. They were sniffing out a traitor

[scarefaux]

With all those second thoughts getting to him, the Scarecrow almost didn't realize the conversation had abruptly ended until Depth Charge was on his feet, handing over the strip Rosemarie had given him- well, not so much of handing or offering as silently demanding his roommate take it. The picture had no true meaning to the former strawman; he turned it over in his hand, apprehension building in him from what he might find on the other side.

And waiting there was exactly what they'd been looking for, he presumed: the name. Harrington... He'd heard it before, hadn't he? But where

[scalyfishman]

The Scarecrow seemed to be a couple of steps back from him, but so long as he could hear the man's footsteps Depth Charge didn't worry- or rather, he didn't allocate any more of his processor for worrying about that particular thing. There was enough for him to think about already without the additional concern, particularly when he knew that the Scarecrow could probably walk to the slagging door without needing his hand held. It had occurred to him earlier that the guy'd done well so far, that maybe he'd been worrying too much in general, but even that fell by the wayside as they made their way to the exit.

The Scarecrow fell by the wayside too, out of step for a moment before he started to speak- still using their code names, he really was on the ball. And Depth Charge's gut wrenched.

Why did Rosemarie have to do this? They'd have done fine if she'd just handed over the name without saying anything, if she'd just shut up and spilled. Then they could have left with their heads held high, not exactly happy of course but still

[scarefaux]

Even with as complicated as the situation was, the answer the Scarecrow was looking for came easily enough. One look at the mention of the Rebel's name, and he could tell Depth Charge was thinking the same thing: that taking the steps to accomplish one goal could set everyone further back than they'd ever expected. It was a dangerous task, sending a little girl and her newfound companions to face a witch for a chance at some brains- and in the end whether he got them or not, he'd decided then that he'd help Dorothy get home either way

[scalyfishman]

Crazy as it seemed to him now, Depth Charge was glad that it was the Scarecrow with him at that moment- someone he could trust not to overthink the situation, because how could you overthink something when you didn't even think you had the equipment to think at all? This was just one big game of second-guessing, third-guessing, fourth-guessing at the sort of reaction either action would get