tushanshu_logs | [Closed] Unto the Living Ones

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[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.

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Costigan couldn't distinguish a spell from a Spell if it was spelled out in front of him and he was quite pleased with that fact. Accepting magic was hard enough. Trying to cater to or learn about it was something else entirely. Too much, maybe. Whatever the case, he ignored the bit about the spell's name.

"And no reason to save them," he countered. "Unless you have a conscience after all."

A thoughtful moment's pause while Bakura decided how to answer that, and then he replied, "We both know there are many types of monsters in the world, Costigan. Some people can be more than one kind; in my case, a variety. But I'm not all of them... not today, at least."

"Hopefully not any day," he answered evenly. He liked that Bakura kept him on his toes. The guy gave him a challenge no one else here had and he appreciated that refreshing view, even if it was a pain in the ass at times. But really, Costigan hoped he could help ease Bakura to the better side of the line, even if he crossed it occasionally, much like the undercover himself was.

"So you saved the people and then he attacked you, is that it?"

Sedjart, you wear optimism like it ill fits you, Bakura thought privately to himself.

"Yes," the thief answered, tone turning brisk and efficient, getting back to the purpose of the original conversation before they'd strayed into philosophical tangents. "Though I doubt, in all truth, the two actually had anything to do with each other. He appeared and attacked, used water to trap me then turned it to ice."

One hand raises again to the edge of the bandage and with a faint wince, realizes that when he'd said he'd change them soon, the 'soon' appeared to be upon them already. The sly tête-à-tête with Costigan had been a fine distraction from the pain but ignoring it further would be unwise. So he motioned for the man to follow, moving through the kitchen door to a smaller room that, given the suite's layout, probably could have been an office. There were clean rolls of bandages on the desk and he began unspooling them with deftness suggesting he'd done it many times before this injury, and apparently fine with patching himself up while continuing the conversation uninterrupted.

"You've been here longer. There's no record of anyone having armor like that?"

Costigan mentally took note of the method that the attacker used. Partially it might be useful in finding the perpetrator, but he was also interested in knowing how Bakura could be stopped when push inevitably came to shove and they found themselves on opposite sides. It was something the Bostonian really didn't want. They would both be foolish to think it never would though.

The undercover followed Bakura down the hall and into the other room without comment, watching and taking everything in like he usually did. It was interesting to see a man who could bandage his own wounds. Costigan might have thought military if Bakura wasn't.. well, how he was.

"There are no records. You know that as well as I do. Have people seen him? Maybe. You want to make a public post asking about it?" It was a genuine question. He got the impression Bakura would want to leave his murder on the down low. If not, that made both their jobs easier. "Otherwise, we look the old fashioned way and ask around in quiet circles."

"No Foreigner records," Bakura amended, partly in clarification and partly in thoughtful musing. What he wanted to know was if Evandau, who oversaw all those brought to the turtle, had any viable information.

"As for an announcement like that..." He didn't outright dismiss it, for it was something he'd considered. Most waking hours had been spent turning the battle over in his mind, the way he did with every duel, every right; it was just the way Bakura was. He never failed the same way more than once. And while certainly there was a part of it that was pride, there was also a careful consideration of the potential benefits verses costs.

"Not just yet, I think. Eager as I might be for a rematch," said with a razor smile and no trace of sarcasm, "I think with everything that's going on right now, there's still a chance they may make a reappearance on his own."

Even as he spoke he was removing the layer of linens, stained on their undersides with blood, to reveal the five deep furrows that marred his torso. The claws on the armor had been sharp -- too sharp, he thought darkly, to have been any normal metal -- and they'd bitten deep. Even if he hadn't drowned, he'd have lost so much blood that he would have succumbed within minutes anyway. The gashes had been stitched though, neatly and evenly and not in a way that suggested he'd done it himself; the thread was an almost silvery colour, glinting in the light.

"I woke up in the clinic of that chatty healer woman, the kedan one," the thief said offhandedly as he worked, explaining the strange stitches. "Who, by the way, had the gall to rebuke me for dying."

"No foreigner records," Costigan agreed. He wasn't about to offer his connections to help them though. Even if he wasn't exactly playing the role of a criminal as of late, the undercover was never particularly keen on the idea of revealing his affiliations. If Evandau's plan of his being on a council came to fruition, he could deal with it then. For now, he was another random foreigner.

He nodded with the man's decision not to announce the event publicly. Although easier, he worried about the mistrust it might breed. Hannibal was bad enough. Costigan would warn Evandau and leave it at that. People didn't need to start turning on each other because a few assholes couldn't keep their grudges - or whatever the hell it was - to themselves.

Costigan's brow furrowed with the reveal of the wound. He seemed to recall Bakura mentioning drowning. The wound he hadn't even connected as exactly relevant, or the fact that it had remained even after the man's return, until he saw the wound before him. "What the hell happened to you?"

He knew it was the same attack. That much was obvious. The question was what had caused the injuries and, to a lesser extent, remained a question of why Bakura had provoked the attack. But that was something only the man in black armor could answer.

"I told you," Bakura said, with a slow exhale as he peeled the gauze packing out of the wound. It hurt like fire, but this was an ill advised time to have is senses dulled by painkillers between Malicant's activity and the possibility of the armoured one returning. Besides, he could deal with pain, knew how to use it as focus. The scent of antiseptic filled the small room as he cleaned the edges before beginning to wrap them up again. "They were keen on doing as much damage as they could."

"Are those teeth?" Costigan's face scrunched up in an expression equal parts skepticism and displeasure. Whatever did that to Bakura wasn't something he particularly wanted to endure. In his day, people beat the shit out of each other with things like coat racks and plain knives, not whatever the hell those were. People used to have decency.

The undercover remained where he was through the process, watching, without comment on the process itself. He didn't offer to help, confidence Bakura would ask if he needed it and just as confident that the man wouldn't need any help at all. "And why the hell isn't it healed if you died? You should have a new body."

Clones and all.

Costigan's expression actually got a laugh from Bakura, the pain caused by the action worth it for a moment of amusement at the appalled reaction. In his day they used to beat each other up with dark magical soul monsters, but it was never decent.

"Claws, not teeth," he answered. He finished wrapping the bandages, the ends tucked secure without any fasteners or pins and he pulled the shirt down again to cover them; they'd been done so that the clothing covered them entirely, disguising the injury unless one knew it was there.

"As for healing... that kedan woman seemed insistent I stay and let her finish mending me. After I got here and heard about manufactured bodies, I suspected there was more to it than that. This isn't an exact copy of the form I was using when I was brought here... but neither is it a copy of what is my real body."

Putting the medical supplies back in the drawers and tossing the used bandages into the trash, Bakura held his arm out for the undercover to see. Along the inside of his forearm were two small, dark blue lines, the pigment beneath the skin not unlike a prison ink tattoo. "I added these a few weeks after arriving here. If we're getting new bodies, why include these on the replacements? I can't speak to before now, but it appears they've gone to more of a recycling method."

Costigan scowled at the laugh, though whether it was a caring chastising or a passively annoyed response was difficult to tell. With the answer, his expression evened again and he gave a nod. The injury being entirely hidden didn't surprise the undercover much. It was a smart move, given how many might use it to their advantage. He also recognized that it was very telling that Bakura had allowed him to see it.

"If your body isn't yours or anyone else's, then what is it?" This was the first time he'd heard of someone being less than exact. Even Bruce Banner has expressed both confusion and admiration of the kedans' ability to replicate his complex DNA, with all its.. peculiarities. It was something to ask Evandau about, at the very least.

Costigan's gaze again turned to one of confusion and concern as he stared at the lines. It was an important piece of information, one he wondered if Bakura knew the significance of.

"Thanks." For showing me. "Most of the scientists I knew are gone, but I can ask around about that too."

"Something in the middle," Bakura answered with traces of uncertainty at the reply before it changes to something more mischievous, and he looked much closer to the age he appeared. "It's not something you want to hear the details of, else your face will get that scrunched look where you try to block out certain things."

It wasn't as though Bakura had planned on dying while in Keeliai but the fact that he'd put the marks on his arm suggested that he considered it a viable enough possibility to make contingency for. Whether his body was cloned, created, or any other combination thereof ultimately didn't bother him as much as it would some people. He hadn't had his own body for centuries -- getting up in arms about where this particular one had come from was beyond trivial to him.

"But ask around of you want, the armor is more pressing to me... that is what I am after."

Costigan scowled again. He knew the guy was right and couldn't care less about making the face. It only worried him that Bakura had been paying enough attention to notice. If he could survive Costello, the undercover was convinced he could survive pretty much anything. But Bakura certainly wasn't going to make it easy.

"Try me." It sounded every bit the challenge it was meant to be. He was keen to ignore magic when he could, sure, but it was also becoming more apparent that he couldn't always do so. Everything else was reasonably fair game, even if it was gruesome or obscene. Costigan didn't mind those topics so much.

"I know the armor's your priority. It's mine too right now." He was surprised to realize how just sincere the sentiment was immediately after he said it. Without noticing, Costigan had made it one of the more important pieces of information to follow up on among his contacts.

Well if that wasn't an invitation, nothing was. Bakura regarded the undercover for a moment and then with a wicked grin, extended his hand towards the center of the room. "Summon Archfiend Mirror," he spoke.

From a swirl of shadows accumulated across the room and drawn to the middle, a hunchbacked reptilian figure coalesced into existence. Its skin was green and scaled, had a whip tail and long talons tipped with knifelike claws gripped a large round mirror. It issued a sound like a hissing growl, snarling at Costigan from its place though it didn't move. Bakura approached it without hesitation and, as if the monster as tall as he were nothing more than a decoration, passed his hand over the mirror's surface. The glass darkened for a moment and then cleared to show two figures standing side by side.

The one on the left was Ryou Bakura, standing with quiet sort of sadness as he faced the viewer. Though Bakura successfully emulated the teen's mannerisms, now that Costigan could compare they were very different even though the bodies themselves were nearly identical. On the right side of the mirror was an image of the Thief King, scowling at the viewer. The prominent scar on his face stood in sharp relief to the dark complexion. Hair much shorter than it was currently and he was visibly a few years older, between 20 and 25.

Edited 2014-05-17 19:09 (UTC)

Costigan had a pretty good sense of knowing not to ask a question he didn't want the answer to. He also had a knack for getting in over his head, beginning to choke and drown before he realized he'd stepped foot in water. Such it was as the large creature appeared in the room with them and was hissing at the undercover.

He had his weapon drawn in the blink of an eye, safety off and leveled at the creature's head. His posture and form suggested some form of professional training, military or police, but there was a sloppiness to it and an imperfection that neither organization would normally accept. That quick reaction alone told volumes about him and he was immediately aware of that.

His gun remained where it was as Bakura's hand moved over the mirror to reveal the two people. The undercover spared a glance, then another, dividing his attention between the 'archfiend' and the image in its mirror's surface.

"A warning would have been nice," he said finally, clearly unamused. Costigan lowered his weapon part way, raised it again, then finally lowered it entirely. He still held the Walther PPK in his hand and used to to point in the direction of the mirror. "So which are you?"

The guy before him clearly wasn't the one on the left, despite visible evidence to the contrary, but Bakura hadn't said that it was someone else's body either.

"I didn't think it was necessary when you invited me to prove my point," the thief replied blithely, though the undercurrent of amusement said that he knew exactly how this would have gone over and now had. "It's just a Fiend, Costigan and a low level one at that. If you shoot it, I might count it as a tribute and summon something a little more impressive."

He definitely noted the stance and speed with the weapon being drawn, the sly sidelong at the man letting him know that he'd noticed, but didn't comment. They both knew, speaking it was just redundant.

Then he turned back to the mirror. "You asked once about my host," he said calmly. "The one I was parasite to, remember? That is him. But he has scars that I don't have right now, so even though I was in his body before coming here..." He trailed off, not certain of the logistics. "And the one on the right is -- was -- me originally. But that form is long gone. So right now... I am both, but neither. I realize my situation is hardly like that of any others but it's a data point just the same."

"The hell does that mean?" It was bad enough dealing with a monster in front of him. Bakura's vague statements and suggestions weren't helping any. And really, bunny rabbit or bear, he was more than willing to put a bullet in its head if it came near him. He expected the guy knew that too, because the creature remained fairly still.

Costigan listened attentively to the latter topic, appreciate the explanation. He slowly, begrudgingly, clicked the safety on and slid the firearm back against the base of his back. This time, however, he left the grip on the outside of his clothing, making it more accessible - just in case.

"Did he get the scars before you or while you were there?" He had no idea why Bakura's body would be changed. Maybe, as a unique case, they had had to custom design his body- Costigan ended that train of thought right there. It was a series of thoughts he wasn't willing to entertain. Whatever the case, they were people and they had to do their best to care of their fragile mortality.

"Simply? Sacrificing the little monsters open the door for far bigger ones," Bakura clarified. But then he waved a hand at the fiend and it turned back to black shadows and disappeared, the summon released. The thief folded his arms over his chest at the question.

"During," he said. Though there was no outright discomfort in his posture, he was reluctant to speak about the teen whose body he had inhabited for years. "And before you jump to conclusions, he didn't acquire them as you might be assuming. He and I are... complicated." There was a touch of defensiveness at the ready-- given that Costigan had assumed he'd provoked his own killing of the armoured one, it wasn't a stretch to guess the man would assume he'd purposely scarred Ryou. He didn't deny that he was responsible for them to a degree but... well, complicated really did sum things up.

Costigan felt almost as uncomfortable with Bakura's casual dismissal of the creature as he did with its presence there. At least now he had a better sense of what the guy could do, assuming there was a whole skill set that came with that ability. In a subtle gesture of peace, an acceptance of Bakura's own offering, he lifted his shirt and jacket and settled them over his gun as if none of it had ever happened.

"I didn't have an assumption," Costigan assured him. It was the truth. The idea of the kid hurting himself or Bakura hurting him intentionally crossed his mind as only vague possibilities that were quickly dismissed. If anything, he would have assumed the kid got them naturally through a hard life. It wasn't like he didn't have some scars of his own and he knew kids who had it worse. Things happened.

He definitely took note of the defensiveness. To the idea of being complicated, he shook his head. "I don't want to know, guy."

A beat, then he remembered. "Bakura. Sorry."

Because either Bakura would tell some sob story that might compromise Costigan's distrust or he would admit to something evil and compromise Costigan's trust. They had a good balance going right now and the undercover didn't want to ruin it.

Edited (name correction) 2014-05-17 20:35 (UTC)

Bakura shrugged; he hadn't intended to tell Costigan much of it anyway... the details were between he and Ryou and no one else. The only reason he had brought it up was to address the undercover's question about the timing, and framed with the precedent of the man asking about the armor's provocation.

A slight tilt of his head as Costigan corrected his use to his name, indicating it hadn't been a problem. He knew that some habits of speech were hard to break, and he was a guilty of using his own Egyptian terms for certain people, knowing they couldn't understand them. As long as Costigan appeared to be making the effort, Bakura didn't care about the slips.

"If most of the scientists you know are gone, who do you intend to ask?" he inquired, steering the topic back to that line of thought.

Costigan cared more about his word to make the effort than actually offending Bakura with the wrong name usage, which was why the slight tilt of the head in unnecessary forgiveness irked him just a hint. He was glad when the subject returned to more practical matters and gave a shrug at the thought.

"I know a couple people with better connections. Kyle and Dick, for example." Normally he wouldn't give names, but Bakura was the nosy sort and Costigan would rather give him a couple good people to follow than have the guy digging for his own secrets. "Dick's the head of Wayne's company now. They should have some labs or somethin' that can look into it."

Realistically, it was a possible route, but Costigan was much more likely to ask Evandau and leave it at that. Maybe Kyle, if it wouldn't distract him from his own information search.

This was part of the reason why Bakura had pretended to be Ryou for months in Keeliai -- being the teen just seemed to offend far less people than being himself ever did, even when he wasn't actively trying to antagonize anyone. He could act the part, in a lot of cases... people in general weren't that hard for him to read, after all-- but it was just that, an act.

He blew out a frustrated breath, deciding he was thinking too much on this.

"Very well. As long as I don't have to put myself on another slab to get those answers."

"You honor our deal, I'll consider that thanks enough," he replied shortly. There was a gravity in his tone that Costigan rarely added, one which stressed both the importance of his statement and the sincerity behind it. They could be allies or they could be enemies and he had every intention of letting Bakura choose which they were, but he also wouldn't be afraid to switch roles as quickly as the other guy might.

"Aa," Bakura agreed, folding his arms together again and posture closing, though this time the gesture was more instinctive than deliberately done to communicate something. "Run down your leads and I'll do the same. One of us will find the next step." Something that applied to both the investigation into the armor and also the new information on cloned bodies.

"Sure," Costigan agreed with a nod. It was enough for now. He noticed the crossed arms and couldn't blame the guy for being less than thrilled with both potential investigations. He wasn't either.

The undercover straightened from his leaning position. They were done with what they had needed to discuss. Still, he lingered, thinking for a moment before offering an almost begrudging additional thought. "You want me to check in for awhile? Make sure they don't come back?"

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denyamenti - 2014-05-26 01:55 (UTC) - Expand

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lostundercover - 2014-05-26 02:57 (UTC) - Expand

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[Closed] Unto the Living Ones

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thanks for the reference pic

Np!

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