[Closed] Unto the Living Ones

[denyamenti]

Characters: Bakura & Costigan
Date: May 1st
Location: Fire Sector → FI-3A
Situation: Reviving from being killed by the Mandarin, Costigan checks in on Bakura after the thief didn't get the answers he wanted about a Foreigner wearing black armor.
Warnings/Rating: Likely a warning for language.

The last thing that Bakura had remembered was the awful sensation of icy cold water rushing into his lungs, paralyzing him. It had even made the sharp pain of having his torso ripped open seem tame. He'd opened his eyes in an unfamiliar room with the kedanese healer Milyn tutting over him, wads of bloody bandages in her hands.

"Well, well!" she had scolded him primly. "What a mess YOU were! Don't do that again!"

The thief had divested himself from her care as soon as possible, blatantly ignoring her insistence that he should be at rest, that she wasn't done healing him (and given the deep gashes still marring his chest, he'd snapped waspishly at her that he had noticed) and let himself out of the small clinic. The walk from the Water Sector to his suite in Fire had been painful and felt as if it had taken twice as long as normal; his vision was swimming by the time he'd let himself inside. A part of him reasoned that being in his assigned suite, where he was most easily located, was possibly not the wisest idea but he was in no shape to reconsider. He'd set the Trap Barrel Behind The Door and fell into a feverish sleep.

Ha Unas an sem-nek as met-th sem-nek anxet...

Waking had let him get some proper perspective on what had happened. He'd been caught off-guard by his attacker yes, but his traps and spells had been woefully ineffectual on the black-armored figure. That in itself was worrisome and he'd turned to the consoles, only to discover that first, more days had passed then he'd initially realized and second, that there were much larger things at work. So Malicant makes his move. Could the person who'd attacked him been one of Malicant's lackey? But no, the attack was very focused, enraged, and felt very directed at him.

Bakura didn't know who'd killed him and he didn't know why. Given his past experience, that was less traumatizing but still aggravating. When his initial inquiry to Costigan had yielded no information, he resigned himself to doing some more in-depth research which probably wasn't a bad idea while he recovered and planned. If that black figure thought they were going to get away with this, they truly had no idea who they were dealing with.

Comments

all the language

[lostundercover]

Costigan was on edge, more than usual. His supply of meds was already running low again, Evandau was effectively in hiding, and the fucking Bastard had overtaken the palace. Counter measures would need to be taken and he half wondered at trying to get an army or a force together to work on just that.

Bakura's question was a different kind of stress-inducing. A foreigner wearing black armor, while entirely an unknown entity to him, meant that foreigners were attacking each other at the worst possible time. He had already put a bullet in Hannibal's kneecap for murder; maybe he would be doing the same with the black armored freak. That meant tracking the guy down. First, he had to ensure that Bakura wasn't going to do something really fucking stupid.

Arriving at the guy's suite - having done his research to know where he lived - didn't take too long. His gang affiliations served to protect him from the average nut at least, if little more than that. Lifting a fist, he pounded at the guy's door, not in the mood for politeness or waiting.

"Open the fuckin' door, guy."

forever and ever

[denyamenti]

It would, Bakura thought rather sourly as the door rattled under Costigan's first as his voice carried through. Be rather fitting if I just left the Trap there for when he opened the door. Yet the undercover was someone who, while trusted might be a stretch, Bakura had no current desire to alienate.

Besides, it was possible there might be information on his attacker. So instead, he dismissed the Barrel and opened the door part way, looking out balefully.

"What, sedjart?"

[lostundercover]

"It's Costigan, not whatever the fuck you said. You going to let me in so we can talk or am I going to have to get creative?"

The undercover scowled at Bakura. Neither of them were in the mood for banter or idly wasting time, that much was clear. The question was whether Costigan could trust the guy or if this was a trap, if the guy was trying to set him up. He didn't like the idea, but he also wasn't keen on letting murderers off scot free either.

[denyamenti]

"You call me guy or less wisely, kid so you have little place to protest," the thief replied, not moving from the doorway. "And where I am from, names have more importance than just something to be called by."

That dispensed however, after a moment he stepped back and let the door open fully and took a few steps back to allow the man entry, though not much beyond the stoop. His stance was cagey, cautious and his free hand slipped to his belt, to the horizontal knife sheath across the small of his back. Realistically, Costigan himself could have been his attacker, whose face and voice Bakura didn't know but the thief was fairly confidant he was not. Dark bruises were visible on his arms and along his collarbone and there were several wraps of bandages that could be seen below his shirt.

"What do you want?"

[lostundercover]

Costigan lifted both hands, palm out, in a metaphorical gesture of surrender. It was a silent agreement that Bakura was right and that maybe, from now on, the undercover might actually use the guy's name.

His hands fell to his sides, then slid into his jacket pockets when the guy made space for him to reduce his appearance of being a threat. It was a gamble, but one he was confident enough in in this moment. He wasted no time in sliding inside, his eyes passing over the other guy's injuries as he did.

"The fuck happened to you?"

[denyamenti]

The progressive body language seems to placate the thief and Bakura lets his hand fall away from the knife at his belt. He shut the door behind the Bostonian, cancelling out main source of light in the otherwise dim interior of the suite's main floor. He moved with surety anyway, leaving the undercover to follow towards the kitchen.

"Killed," he said shortly, his lip curling with irritation as if inconvenienced by it. "Drowned, though not before they tried to turn me into all six parts of a Self," he added, lifting the hem of his shirt partway so that Costigan could see the bandages where a few spots of red on the white wraps; they'd need changing again soon.

[lostundercover]

Though Costigan's eyes hadn't fully adjusted, he managed to follow the man's silhouette well enough to make his way to the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands still safely tucked away. The words, though not entirely surprising, were unsettling at best.

"A foreigner in black armor?" He guessed. It didn't take much to put the ideas together and confirm his suspicions. "You should get those changed."

[denyamenti]

"I've never seen anything like it from the kedan," Bakura answered, letting his shirt fall back into place and folding his arms across his chest, absently rubbing where the gashes were deepest.

"But given that they spoke not a word, I can't say for certain. No one else mentioned being targeted directly so I assume I was intentional rather than a murder of opportunity." Bakura smiled mirthlessly at the turn of phrase. "Normally I know why people want me dead."

He gave a light shrug at the mention of the bandages. "I will, soon enough."

[lostundercover]

Costigan noticed the gestures, wondering what wounds lurked beneath the clothing that the man hadn't let him see. Whatever the case, it didn't sound or look too good. He sighed and withdrew a hand to run through his hair, exhaustion evidence both in the circles under his eyes and the seeming impatience in his entire manner.

"Did you attack anyone recently? Could it be your fault?" Of course his initial suspicion was that Bakura may have brought the attack on himself, but killing was a step too far and a situation he intended to see ratified. The questions were sincere, his tone filled with his usual skepticism but no more than that.

[denyamenti]

Had Bakura stuck around longer, Milyn would have done more of her fine work but he'd been anxious to get out of that place as soon as he was able to stand and walk. At the question, it's telling that he doesn't react defensively to the unspoken accusation.

"No. I'd not even spoken to the other Foreigners in the last two weeks, save two: to some questions of Terry who said he was here previously and recalled it, and to ask a question of the magician girl, Zatanna." A thoughtful pause and then he added, "She and I had a run-in a few weeks ago which she resents."

None of the Foreigners wanted anything to do with him and Bakura certainly wasn't going out of his way to interact with them either.

[lostundercover]

Costigan knew little of Zatanna. What he knew he wasn't particularly fond of, knowing that she was source of the power mix up some time ago, but he was also conscious of the fact that she had fixed that. Some part of him said that he thought she and Jack might be friends as well, but the guy hadn't told him anything of it. He knew nothing of Terry. Asking questions hardly seemed provocation, however.

"From the sounds of it, it wasn't them," he replied evenly. His hand returned to his pocket as he thought on the subject. Without anything solid to give, he could only offer a simple, "I can ask around."

[denyamenti]

Bakura shrugged, part in agreement of Costigan's assessment and part in unspoken statement that it was his decision to make. "You should be careful if you do that," he said. "That armor shrugged off both Spell and Trap like there were nothing. They might not have been the most intricate plays but they should still have done more."

And the thief had been turning over possibilities of what strategy might have better luck against the armored one when this rematch did come. But then Bakura glanced at the Bostonian as though registering him properly for the first time.

"Don't you think there are bigger issues at hand right now?"

Bakura's tone implied he didn't share that pressing concern of what was now lurking in the Palace but he didn't figure Costigan shared that same disinterest.

[lostundercover]

"That's why I carry a gun," he replied with the smallest smile and raised eyebrows. Magic and powers were good, but not too many of them could take a bullet without some difficulty and at least one that could wasn't the type to do the things Bakura was suggesting.

To the latter, he gave a single nod. "Sure, yeah. The war. I'm sure some fuckin' heroes are working with the police to figure something out. Don't get me wrong, I don't want the asshole in the palace, but it's not exactly my place. In the meantime, I'd rather make sure the guy thinks twice about killing other foreigners here."

[denyamenti]

Following Costigan's message to him regarding Bianca's disappearance and the request to come over, Bakura does that. It's not as though he has anything else to do, with many of the jobs suspended because of the siege of the Palace, his own included. While still far from fully healed, the thief's injuries are carefully bound and hidden for the most part, and only those who observe him carefully will see something amiss in his motions. The Ring is warm beneath his shirt, the ever-ready magic not far from his beck and call in case someone tries to make another run at him. Bakura crosses the city from his suite in Fire down to the Wood Sector briskly and knocked on Costigan's door.

[lostundercover]

Costigan didn't take long to respond, having been waiting for the thief. Bakura was one of the last people who deserved to know. It was only the undercover's suspicion that telling him would do less damage than not that had him sending the message in the first place, reaching out to someone he basically considered a criminal in the grand scheme of things.

"Hey." He held the door open for the guy to enter, unceremonious in his greeting.

[denyamenti]

As it so happened, that was exactly the greeting the thief had ready. "People are going to start to wonder about the company you keep," Bakura said slyly, stepping inside. The Bostonian had just told him that he knew nothing more about the armored figure (though that could have been intentional covering, given the state of the consoles) so he waited to see what this was about.

[lostundercover]

"They already do," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. Costigan closed and locked the door behind Bakura. Then he lead their way into the living room, taking a seat on a chair and gesturing to encourage him to do the same. He was a criminal. That was what he portrayed himself to be, when and where he could, and he was more of one than most of his friends knew him to be.

But now things were changing. "You asked before why I was confident I could keep you out of jail."

[denyamenti]

"Arrogance, I recall as your answer," Bakura returned, taking the seat as indicated, though perched there in a way that kept him still at ready. "You said that having a hand in choosing my targets would avoid the worst of the fallout. Perhaps you should have made that offer to the other lunatics running around the city."

[lostundercover]

"I don't like them as much." The joking retort came with an accompanying smirk. Costigan didn't want to think too much on why Bakura was special, though he figured it was mostly because he was genuinely arrogant enough to believe he had a chance of influencing the kid.

The undercover straightened, setting his hands on his legs and watching Bakura closely as he continued more seriously. "I work for the police force."

[denyamenti]

"Understandable," the thief returned without missing a beat. "At least I'm the reasonable sort of lunatic."

Bakura didn't miss the way Costigan's posture shifted; bracing, if he had to describe it. As if for an unpleasant reaction? Anticipated or from experience?

"Well," he enunciated purposely, drawing the word out. "I suppose that is the cheaper option, than bribing them as I'd suspected."

[lostundercover]

"Yeah, you are." The undercover liked to give credit where credit was due and it wasn't like him to bullshit. That was their relationship. They didn't bullshit each other. Or, at the very least, Costigan didn't bullshit Bakura and hoped that honesty and trust would be enough to see that Bakura stayed reasonable.

He was quiet for a moment, watching the other man's reaction and thinking on his words. It only lasted a second or two before he spoke again. "Yeah, it is. It'll be even cheaper when I become head of the foreigner division soon."

Yeah, he was bracing himself. His eyes searched every sign of Bakura's response, from changes in posture to expressions, and his ears took in as much how things were said as what the actual words were.

[denyamenti]

That was their relationship indeed and, at least for the moment, Bakura had been as truthful as Costigan had. That wasn't to say that there might not come a day where the thief would throw him under the proverbial bus; having a common goal did not, in his mind, have anything to do with loyalty. It was the same as working in tandem with Malik Ishtar for the Rod and Tauk... once his dark personality had taken over, his motives had changed and that put him at sudden odds with Bakura. Ironically it had been the difference of opinion that had severed the partnership more than the Shadow Game he'd lost.

And so Bakura's body language -- the thoughtful incline of his head, the faint purse of his mouth -- said less about the revelation of Costigan's status and more about what he himself could get out of this deal. He had no personal stake in whatever side of the law the undercover was on, though on principle he thought less of most in positions of authority because they were so rarely based on merit. But that was countered by the fact that Bakura had seen Costigan be effective and more over, be smart about it, and that was buying him leverage when the thief may otherwise have just cut ties.

"As it stands the prison is rather inaccessible, rendering most of your promised protection voided," he pointed out. "So regardless, we may need to revisit our bargain."

And then in a sudden impulse of curiosity added, "What is he giving you, to do this?"

[lostundercover]

Costigan had no delusions about any sense of loyalty between them. The reason he took the gamble in telling Bakura himself was because he hoped that hearing it directly before the announcement would make the other man less likely to spontaneously break their fragile deal. The Bostonian knew that even that wouldn't last forever, no matter how good their relationship in the interim. Bakura was a Sullivan, not a Dignam.

The body language did little more him and so he made an effort to maintain his own neutrality. Costigan shook his head when Bakura was finished, taking another gamble.

"They can still arrest and hold people, even without the prison." He wasn't entirely confident of that, but he said it as if he was. At the very least, he knew Evandau had some something that could nullify powers. "He's giving me the same thing you are: a small say in what happens. The difference is, he trusts me."

[denyamenti]

"You do aim rather low when you barter your skills," Bakura replied airily. "Perhaps next time I'll have to step in and do a better job for you. But insofar as the Emperor trusting you, I've yet to see evidence of that. This position seems more like making you a target than a treaty."

[lostundercover]

Costigan smirked. The truth was that he mainly took the job because it was asked of him, because it was what Evandau needed and Costigan was the type to do what the people he trusted and respected wanted him to. That he also got paid and a say in things were added benefits and having the now Emperor's ear about things was something, while he would be very careful not to abuse, that he was grateful to know he had as a resource.

"Nice try." He almost added the 'kid' before recalling their last chat. Bakura's claim seemed to be asking for Costigan to provide the evidence, to prove himself, which he had no interest in. Yeah, he was a target, but the threats in this place were almost a breeze compared to Costello. Outside of magical manipulation, of course. "You're right about me being a target, but you don't care about that."