tushanshu_logs | [Closed] Unto the Living Ones

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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.

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?"

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."

"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."

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."

"I take it under consideration when you're being useful to me," Bakura said frankly. "Call it care or any term you want, it doesn't matter to me. But it's no different for you... so why don't you tell me what it is that you want?"

"Right now? Nothing. In general, from you, I want to see that you don't hurt the people I like." It was said with more nonchalance than he honestly felt. His posture stiffened with the anxiety of the situation, the undercover straightening in an unconscious gesture of puffing up and preparing for a fight. This was really one of the last conversations he wanted to be having right now.

The thief studied the man for a moment, taking in everything: the body language, the tension beneath the expression, the change in tone... and then very deliberately, turns away to step towards the window. Ostensibly to look outward, but it breaks the unspoken standoff that had developed there and, since he was the one who moved away, puts Costigan back in charge of the space.

"Not the most interesting scenario, but I'll make do."

Costigan was grateful for Bakura's turning away, oblivious to whether it was intentional or not. Either way, it dropped the tension and allowed his shoulders to slack as before. His anxiety rarely waned once established though, the edges of it visible in his features. The undercover watched the guy, listened to his words, and considered them before finally replying.

"Then I'll talk to you later." It was a less than subtle suggestion that maybe it was time for Bakura to go. Costigan had others to speak with and didn't want to accidentally say the wrong thing.

The curt instruction thankfully not one that Bakura refused, though he returned his gaze to the Bostonian and let it rest there just long enough to make the point that while Costigan had control of the situation at the moment, it was partly because Bakura was letting him. Nonetheless he moves from the window toward the door.

"Since I assume you didn't call me here to wish you good luck on your new promotion, I'll leave you with some advice based in experience instead. The day that you'll have to choose between the two masters you're about to enter service to is a when, not an if. If you don't decide ahead of time which one, you'll make the wrong choice without even knowing it."

Costigan blatantly frowned at the other man's back, not saying anything in response. He remembered all too well. For all his criminal activity, he had always been Queenan's man and always would be. The man dying on his behalf only cemented the Bostonian's already firm loyalty. Not Costello, not Sullivan.

Evandau was his superior here and he knew people like Bakura, Kyle, and others might eventually oppose him - or the Empire. He was prepared for those times. And in them, he would still be Queenan's man. He would do what he knew Queenan would have wanted or expected of him, regardless of which side that put him on.

Bakura accepts the stern silence as further dismissal, so he continues to the exit and pushes open the door. He half-turns as he crosses the threshold as if to ponder one more moment on Costigan's lack of reply, then steps away so the door closes behind him and he's gone.

[Closed] Unto the Living Ones

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