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 Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 1:35 am
Death by Caffeine
Rank: Two
Antagonist: Mr. Bean
NPC Accompaniment: No
Souls available:  x2
Mission: SUCCESS/FAILURE
The coffee shop was more of a coffee bar, a slim slice of real estate wedged in a prime location just off the business and shopping districts - worlds away from the quiet suburbia that typified Toronto, Canada. Filled with tiny booths and tables, it was just edgy enough to attract the Gen X and Yers, and harried interns were making coffee runs to and from the nearby offices at all hours of the day - especially the unholy ones.
11.30AM and business was booming, the high turnover rate escalating until orders were an exercise in muted shouting; there was barely any space to stand and a straggly queue unraveled all the way out the door. Baristas slammed bells, poured lattes and scrawled names on paper cups in a blur of hands, and conversations overlapped each other almost as often as the people themselves.
In such a frantically busy atmosphere, it was a wonder that nothing more serious than a plastic spoon shortage had gone amiss.
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Posted: Thu Oct 15, 2009 8:44 am
Lucien pushed open the heavy glass doors of the coffee shop, taking a moment to inhale the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee before stepping inside, Z following behind him. As the door swung shut, the two exchanged a glance, the white-haired boy flashing the other an amused grin. "Well, discretion," came the soft words, smooth as honey and almost as innocent, "that probably means me."
Violet eyes sparked danger, then amusement, as Z shifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug. "You also just want another caffeine kick."
"You got it." Lucien smirked, though both knew that wasn't really the reason they were here. Waving a hand towards one of the free seats set towards a corner of the room, he continued, "Why don't you go grab us a seat then, while I go kill myself through caffeine overdose?" The words were chosen deliberately - sure, the mission required discretion, but why not have a little fun? Plus, Lucien added silently to himself as Z's eyebrow rose mockingly before the taller boy strode off, it's fun to needle Z from time to time.
The WEAPON had seemed distracted lately, and he just couldn't figure it out. But that was a problem for later, Lucien decided, as he turned to stride towards the ordering counter, now... it was time for the show to begin.
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Posted: Fri Oct 16, 2009 6:10 am
The mousy-haired boy was glued to the coffee machine as more experienced staff whipped past in the narrow counter area. Half-hidden behind the bulk of the intricate apparatus and its myriad of knobs and levers, he was the last in the production line and the official 'corporate capper' - a nice way of saying he stuck plastic lids on the hot drinks, and if he was feeling particularly ambitious, gave out straws.
He was also the 'special' kid.
Being mute didn't mean he was stupid, but the one they called Mr. Bean pretended not to notice the stares, disgusted looks and snickers, smiling vacantly at the latest customer and fiddling with his name tag. He was the franchise manager's great source of irritation - anti-discrimination laws meant he had to be hired, but not without borderline emotional abuse - and the boy had just the thing to repay her kindness and the hell he'd endured in training week.
They were all the same, these bigshots looking down their noses at people like him. But they'd get their due. Revenge would be sweeter than condensed milk.
Over the bustle of rush hour, he only just caught the tail-end of a conversation that mentioned killing, and though his interest was piqued, he didn't think much of it, absorbed in an inner paroxysm of glee. The lucky (or unlucky) owner of a decaf-cappuccino-with-extra-froth dropped to the pavement on the other side of the street. He would ne-ver get up.
All these morons probably wouldn't notice, wouldn't connect the boiling coffee to the death until the body was at the coroner's. Mr. Bean would be long gone by then - but not before he claimed a few more victims.
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Posted: Sat Oct 17, 2009 4:43 am
Z paused halfway towards the table he'd marked as theirs as someone keeled over on the other side of the sidewalk, mere meters away from the coffee shop. An eyebrow raised, thoughtfully, before Z resumed his path, finally settling down in one of the plush armchairs that was nicely positioned to give him a view of the entire cafe. While they hadn't discussed their plan of action before stepping into the cafe, it was unspoken; they would settle down, watch, and perhaps Lucien would pose some vague but useful questions.
Then they would strike.
But meanwhile, Z thought with a grimace, it was boring. Waiting. Who needed it? And lately, his thoughts had become uncomfortably preoccupied with one particular person, and the idea of elaborate, expensive cages.
Pulling his thoughts back to the present, he found Lucien striding over. The two exchanged another glance, Z's flickering towards the window, Lucien's green eyes following, towards the unconscious man on the sidewalk, now ringed with curious onlookers.
It was almost comical, the disappointment evident in Lucien's face as he realized that their target was, in fact, at work right now. Z suspected Lucien had truly been looking forward to his caffeine fix, but even Jerard's son was susceptible to poison. "Well then," the technician began, recovering his composure, "I guess this is just too hot to drink right now."
They would have to watch closely, to see if anyone made any strange moves. For a moment, Z was almost grateful that Lucien had forced him to learn at least some measure of competent drink-making - at least that would come in useful, though for entirely different reasons.
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2009 12:07 am
As the axe fell, so to speak, Mr. Bean jabbed his thumb into a piping hot latte in his excitement, and gave what would have been a screeching yowl. His features twisted for a moment before he caught himself - there were times it payed to be mute; people either didn't look, looked with pity, or looked like you were Wrong – this customer was a mixture of the first and third categories, snatching the paper cup like his condition was catching and tripping out the door. Mr. Bean gave his back a sickly sweet smile and surreptitiously wiped the liquid on his jeans.
His mind was going at full tilt as he played with the condiments. Had anyone noticed? He didn't think so, but though he was dumb, he wasn't dumb, and he knew the possibility was there, had to be accounted for. If it was too late and the full cream milk had hit the coffee – well, there were still courses of action available. See, Mr. Bean wasn't picky about who died. Any three or four of the grouchy addicts would be enough to bring down the shop, maybe even the whole empire, so idea #1 was to off all the witnesses. He didn't like this option very much; it wasn't sneaky or smart and Mr. Bean was a master villain.
Luckily, there was a fallback plan.
Teddy, short for Theodore, thank you very much – although his nametag said Teddy, because nicknames made staff so much more friendly and approachable – was Mr. Bean's sidekick. He was soft and pudgy with a round face, button nose and unfortunate jug ears and if you pressed his belly, he squeaked, "Hi, how can I help you?" He was good at his job because he was obedient to a fault, very loyal, and perfectly happy to trudge along at minimum wage.
Which was why Mr. Bean had recruited him as his Official Scapegoat, and educated him in the finer arts of arsenic poisoning. There was a bottle of it tucked into the front of Teddy's trousers, which he used when Mr. Bean gave him the Special Signal, and hopefully if things went south, Mr. Bean could hightail it outta there.
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2009 7:29 am
There.
Lucien's sharp eyes caught it first, but realization dawned in Z's face a split second after. A pinch of something, that had been added to that last customer's face, just before the barista had yowled - though it was a pitiful sound.
No communication was necessary as Z stood, appearance still relaxed as he sauntered over to the counter for a better look under the pretense of studying the menu. A few moments passed, but nobody ordered another bar drink, and Z swore inwardly as he realized he'd actually have to buy something. And it would be a waste, since he couldn't drink the damn thing.
"A bla--" Habit took over as he opened his mouth, before shutting it to start again. "An Iced Vanilla Latte." He paused, considering the order, "with whipped cream, if you can." The girl behind the counter gave him a curious once-over before inputting the drink into the register, but Z ignored it. He knew it was a girly drink, but really, did it even matter? He wasn't going to drink it anyway - he just needed to watch that last barista as he made his drink. And the whipped cream part would ensure that he would have a hand in the making of it.
Z paid for the drink, glancing over once towards Lucien to ensure his partner was ready and watching, before taking the few steps to the drop-off counter. He leaned one elbow on it, angling his head for a better look at the staff on duty. It only took one look, and he realized with a start that the one they'd pegged as the potential killer, was in fact, a mute. Well, then. There was no point trying to engage in conversation, if that was the case.
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 7:11 pm
Eenie meenie miney moe, catch a tiger by the toe... Mr. Bean sing-songed morbidly in his head, drawing squiggles in the fine layer of chocolate dust that customers managed to get all over the wood grain. Sometimes they 'let' Mr. Bean do it for them, waving the shaker in his face like he was some idiotic man-child that would find joy in the completely mundane action. Mr. Bean always did it, of course. Some things had to be suffered for the sake of keeping cover, and no one would say anything if he managed to get a good bunch of the stuff on their expensive sleeves.
He kept one eye on Teddy, naturally. So far he'd proved to be a useful and unproblematic asset, but if Mr. Bean had to pick one contingency that could get him discovered, Teddy would be it. The man was a cross between an ugly puppy and a stuffed toy, and puppies had a way of acting out, even if they didn't mean to.
A while passed without much to show for it except a lonely siren in the distance. Mr. Bean didn't stiffen - he was a pro - besides, that'd be the ambulance swinging by to load up Mr. a*****e. He twiddled his thumbs, watched the queue and tried not to scowl. What was the matter? Did no one want to die today?
And then the magic words. Iced Vanilla Latte with whipped cream! He rubbed imaginary hands together as he envisioned Irma the cash-register girl ringing up the order: "Would you like a dose of arsenic with that, sir?"
Oh yes indeed.
The only question that remained was, did he want to see to this personally or would he let Teddy do the honours further up the line? Decisions, decisions. Paranoia took over though. These days if you wanted something done right... He stepped further into the shadow of the coffee machine as the drink finally finally reached him, a small, harmless-looking bottle sliding into his hand. Colourless, odourless, just two or three drops would do the job...
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Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2009 7:06 pm
Discretion.
The word made its way to the front of Z's mind, catching him just a split second away from reaching over the counter to grab the other man by the throat. As it was, Z shifted, arms and muscles flexing as he suppressed a movement that would've been almost as natural as breathing.
He'd caught that subtle flick of the wrist, the bottle of unidentified liquid that appeared, and the drops that had gone into his drink. But this mission required them both to be circumspect. Z didn't really get why, but apparently spilling the blood of a murderer in full view of others wasn't an acceptable thing to do.
Various other possibilities flashed through his head as he waited for the drink to be completed and finally placed on the drink stand, though he settled for the easiest. One hand came up, reached out for the drink... and accidentally knocked it over, sending the contents flying.
Right into the murderer's face.
"Ah, s**t. Sor--"
"Z, geez! Oh, are you okay?" Lucien was there, having seen the tensing and subsequent controlling of muscles that indicated Z had been about to do something rash. He'd left his own, untouched drink at the coffee table where they'd chosen to sit, and was now leaning over the counter with one hand on their now-confirmed target's shoulder. "I'm so sorry about my friend - he's such a brute sometimes. Hey!" Lucien raised his voice, trying to catch the attention of another barista, "can't someone cover for this man so he can clean up the mess my par-- friend made?"
Z stepped to the side, barely suppressing his amusement at Lucien's quick maneuver. This part he could play well - there was a sullen scowl on his face at being 'berated' by Lucien, though his eyes were watchful, looking out for any move their target may make. It was likely the man would have to go to the back office or the washroom to clean up, and that would be when they'd strike.
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Posted: Mon Oct 26, 2009 10:34 pm
Mr. Bean was a professional, but it didn't protect him from the indignity or the shock of ice chips and freezing arsenic-laced latte splattered all over his eyebrows, clumping his hair and dripping from his chin. He was no fool – he glared for a split second - just enough to show how much he wanted to stick this customer and his friend into a blender before he snapped his eyes shut and pressed his lips into a tight line.
Of all the dunderheaded moves – He had not gone this far to poison himself. He clamped his hands to his ears in a fake-distressed way and gave an impression of an epileptic worm - flicking his fingers and giving a variation of The Sign in plain sight. TEDDY, he hollered inwardly. GET YOUR SQUISHY BEHIND OVER HERE. ASAP.
With his eyes clenched he couldn't tell what was going on, but moments later he felt an unmistakably chubby hand on his elbow accompanied by high-pitched squeals. "Oh my God, oh my god, how can I help you?" He heaved a close-mouthed sigh of relief as he was finally steered towards the bathroom, jittery with impatience and occasionally being knocked into doorways and walls. Faster you nitwit, before I suffer MULTI-SYSTEM ORGAN FAILURE. "Sorry," Teddy said each time Mr. Bean tripped. "Sorry, sorry, sorry." Mr. Bean grit his teeth as he felt the cool, blessed change of temperature – he'd been led into the toilets. Now to wash his face.
He grabbed blindly for the sink and turned on the faucet, making a cup with his hands to catch the gushing water. He could feel Teddy hovering anxiously beside him.
He would kill the man who did this, he swore, even if he had to send complimentary coffee halfway across the continent.
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Posted: Thu Oct 29, 2009 7:32 am
From his slightly distanced position, Z saw clearly the glare that the mute directed their way before squeezing his eyes tightly shut. And the finger movements that looked a little too organized for mere twitches, followed by the subsequent appearance of a fellow staff that seemed to appear magically out of nowhere to lead their target away.
He didn't know ASL, but the demand and irritated flicker of those fingers was hard to misinterpret.
They waited until the pair had made their way towards the toilets and the door had swooshed gently back into place following their entry before taking action, though it was Lucien who remembered they were out in public and therefore needed to at least pretend they weren't going to the washroom to corner and kill a confirmed murderer.
"So, Z," he began, as he stepped towards the direction of the washrooms, "the least you could do is go see if they're alright - after all, that drink wasn't exactly water." Knowing that his partner would follow, Lucien pushed open the door to the men's washroom, taking the time to look around and ensure there were no other occupants before focusing sharp green eyes on the pair by the sinks.
Stepping in, he moved to the side to allow Z entry, hearing the soft click of a lock as the other made certain nobody could disturb them for the time being. "You seem a lot more worried about the spilled drink than I would've expected. Treating it almost as if it were... poison." Lucien's smooth voice was bland, devoid of all inflection as he let the words hang in the air. Beside him, Z shifted, wanting to switch forms, but Lucien stilled him with one hand. They already had enough proof, but toying with targets was always an amusement he never turned down.
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Posted: Fri Oct 30, 2009 3:04 am
Three thorough washes - Mr. Bean didn't have much in the way of facial hair but his hands were tingling and covered with a fine layer of baby fur when he was done, and his skin was scrubbed raw and tingly, exactly like you'd expect an impromptu chemical peel to feel like. He bared his teeth at the mirror, frightening Teddy, and no sooner had he gotten the last of the vile liquid off when the perpetrator and his buddy skulked in, lock snicking shut behind them. Mmm... He blinked murky brown eyes at them, wide as tea saucers. Faaaar too young to be Feds, but the white-haired one was a smooth operator, extending a hand to keep the other at bay. A unit. Undercover maybe, and they were onto him. Play it or bluff it?
He lifted his own hands slowly, spreading his fingers as if to say, 'see? I got nothing,' and started to sign. He hated doing this - when he did, it brought even more attention and people assumed he was deaf. That was the way of normal people; they lumped all misfortunates and disabilities into the same category.
Teddy squinted at his newest bestest friend, ponderously opening his mouth to translate. Beanie didn't talk a lot. Well, he did sorta, but he did it with pen and paper, especially when he was really angry, the red pen slashing right through the page. Teddy couldn't remember the last time Beanie asked him to speak for him, maybe because Teddy was still learning and got the words mixed up. "Um, 'it was just a little cold. Thanks for coming to check on me. Don't tra-' Er." Teddy hastily cut himself off when he realised Beanie was telling him a secret. When I give the sign, take the bottle and pour it over the dark guy, you got me? Don't act suspicious! Teddy caught himself before he could nod. Wow, this game was hard.
Mr. Bean smiled, lowering his arms casually. In truth, his palm hovered over the pocket with arsenic. Two seconds. That was all the time he needed to uncap with his thumb and throw it all over the sucker. He just needed a distraction, and Teddy would serve quite well.
He gave the signal.
THE TARGET IS ATTACKING! WHAT DO YOU DO?
IF YOU CHOOSE TO INCORPORATE AN ATTACK INTO YOUR REACTION, PLEASE ROLL A 10-SIDED DICE TO DETERMINE SUCCESS/FAILURE. 3 THROUGH 10 IS SUCCESS. 1/2 IS FAIL. GOOD LUCK!
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toxiin rolled 1 10-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-10)
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Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 2:59 am
It looked like their fun was about to be cut short. Though neither of them knew ASL, the way Teddy reacted to the furious movements of the mute's finger movements was a clear enough indication that something at least, was up. Though Z tensed, readying himself to switch forms in case anything unexpected occurred, Lucien merely smiled. "No problem. We were worried, especially since it's our fault you ended up with ... liquid ... all over your face." The way Lucien emphasized the word implied quite clearly that he knew had been more than caffeine in milk in the drink, though he, like the mute, both avoided admitting to anything outright.
When the second barista who had translated for the mute began to inch closer, though, appearing casual but with a tell-tale nervous flicker to his eyes, Z flashed to his WEAPON form without waiting for any prompting from Lucien.
Lucien had expected an attack, or a diversion of some sort, at the very least, and he was ready with an extended hand when Z switched to his deadlier form. It took almost no effort to flick the arm that Z had coiled himself around forward, directing the wire towards the assistant's ankles to hobble and stop him in his tracks. Intending to trip rather than inflict damage, Z's blades barely grazed over skin as they made contact, but it was an effective tether. The man fell, and the contents of his hands spilled out, the bottle breaking upon impact and creating a small puddle of brown liquid on the cold tile. "Well, well, now..." Lucien smirked, lifting triumphant eyes to meet those of the mute.
Another flick of the wrist, and Z slid upwards quickly, blades now turned so that they sliced into skin with every silent slither of metal over flesh. The man bled, but was held still as Z tightened his coils, moving until the tip of the length of wire hovered threateningly over the man's throat. Z's contemptuous words were only heard by Lucien, but the intent was clear enough.
:: You don't even have the guts or the intelligence to thrive as a criminal - You are truly pathetic. ::
The razorewire struck, slicing ribbons of blood across the man's throat.
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Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 4:28 am
Mr. Bean felt cold. Not just from the lingering traces of water on his skin. He saw the white-haired boy smile and it was like someone dropped crushed ice down his shirt. He knew that smile. He saw it in the mirror. 'This is what a killer looks like,' he'd thought proudly. But now the game was up, and it wasn't police or some government doctor who'd quietly empty a needle into his arm. This was something else, something more sinister and real –
He clutched instinctively at the bottle cap, knuckles white as the one who'd thrown latte in his face turned into a bladed chain, wrapping around Teddy's legs. Impossible. His heart thudded as Teddy fell heavily to the floor, whimpering, eyes impossibly round and fearful – stupid boy couldn't even get that much right – but he swallowed bile as cuts opened up along chubby ankles. Blood flecked onto the tiled floor, smearing as he... writhed...
Nerves of steel, Mr. Bean reminded himself, but the image of vibrant red running down, gaping neck was burned into his retinas. This was nothing like what he did. His knees quaked a little, no matter how sternly he reprimanded them. Distance. That was key. A bit of frothing at the mouth, paling, rictus and the little marks of death but he didn't - it was arsenic. It wasn't messy or personal. It was coffee.
But Teddy had stopped moving. His ever-polished nametag was marred by a bright crimson streak. And Mr. Bean couldn't tell the green-eyed murderer that he'd kill him - not to punish the manager or because he laughed at Mr. Bean for being mute. He couldn't say a word. But he'd kill him anyway. He'd kill him for killing Teddy and if the arsenic didn't work he'd kill him with his bare hands.
The click of the bottle cap was impossibly loud.
THE TARGET IS ATTACKING! WHAT DO YOU DO?
IF YOU CHOOSE TO INCORPORATE AN ATTACK INTO YOUR REACTION, PLEASE ROLL A 10-SIDED DICE TO DETERMINE SUCCESS/FAILURE. 3 THROUGH 10 IS SUCCESS. 1/2 IS FAIL. GOOD LUCK!
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toxiin rolled 1 10-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-10)
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2009 10:16 am
The bloody sight had hit Lucien in an entirely different way, proving Mr. Bean right, if only the killer could read the TECHNICIAN's thoughts. It always gave him a thrill, killing did, even though it was usually Z who did the actual slicing that eventually lead to death. But he was the one who wielded his WEAPON, and he never failed to feel or enjoy the rush of power. So fun. He didn't bother hiding the sinister, cruel smile as he turned towards the one who was still living, Z twining sinuously up his arm and back to his usual position, leaving a bloody trail on his skin, "looks like you're next."
Z had always known about this side of Lucien, but even he had to admit it made him uncomfortable sometimes, knowing that his sadism went to such depths. But their relationship had always been one of understanding, right from the start, and so he stayed silent as his partner played with his 'prey'.
The click that echoed through the room with the force of a whip crack spurred the WEAPON into action, however, heedless of whatever games Lucien may have had planned. Quick as a snake, he uncoiled himself once again, tip of the wire poising almost delicately over the wrist that held the bottle in such a way that the man would be unable to move his hand or arm at all without running the very probable risk of cutting open his own veins. He didn't strike; Lucien's hand had tightened almost imperceptibly, and Z was well aware that his partner still wanted to play.
"Well now..." Lucien's voice was calm, humorous even as he took one step forward, angling his upper body closer to get a better look at the bottle grasped in the man's tense fingers. "What have we here? Could it be..." He pretended to think, eyes rolling to the side as he 'hmmm'ed deep in his throat, "... arsenic?"
Stepping even closer, the TECHNICIAN used gentle but firm fingers to pry the now open bottle away from the hand. "Perhaps we should try it. Open up." There was no trace of command in Lucien's voice as he tilted his head, waiting for a second before reaching out his free hand to stroke the man's face. "Or not, as you will." The last word was a little louder than the ones preceding it as Lucien suddenly exerted force on the man's jaw, prying it open. The contents of the bottle went in quickly, and Lucien grinned. "Now, it's your choice. Swallow, or bleed."
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Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2009 2:51 am
Try it and I'll spit in your face, were the words Mr. Bean longed to scream, but even if his voice-box had come perfectly functional, deceptively thin fingers were at his jaw - he tried to clench but his mouth was pressed agape and quickly filled with his choice poison. It didn't taste like anything – that was the genius of it – he could have been swilling something as harmless as a gulp of water. It didn't even burn. Still, Mr. Bean's features screwed into an expression that was more potent than any venom.
Thwarted. Well and truly.
Teddy dead at his feet, arsenic on his tongue and twitching away from the cold metal only left grazes along the vein. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. In movies and comic books, the bad guy only lost after he bragged about his diabolical plans and looked away – Mr. Bean was looking right into the mintleaf eyes of the boy playing hero, mute as a fish, but it wasn't helping him.
And so Mr. Bean, who knew when a thickshake was unsalvageable, and ever the fan of irony, chose to swallow. You didn't get much dignity with a life like his and the thought of dying like Teddy turned his stomach worse than a carton of bad milk.
His last thoughts were thus, inane and not particularly meaningful, and continued until his trachea, bowels, brain, were so much sludge. The body melted like sugar into a frappé and on the ground, Teddy's corpse dissolved in sympathy. Two glowing, red souls floated in the air, ripe for the plucking.
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