CLOSED ♔ hear the crocodiles ticking 'round the world

[driveangry]

♬ Major Minus - Coldplay

WHO || Liam Chambers & Desmond Descant [Closed]
WHAT || Old business associates catch up - and Des gets a lead
WHERE || A diner in Chicago, IL, America
WHEN || Thurs, Feb 9th, afternoon
HOW || Actionspam

[The broad shouldered man sitting in a booth against the window hardly glanced up as the bell jangled to let another customer inside. He knew what he'd hear as soon as soon as the guy he was waiting on showed.

And sure, enough. Just like clockwork.

"DES? That you, sugar?" Didn't mean anything, really, when Irma called someone 'sugar', other than she thought they were still breathing - she called everybody sugar. But it meant something when she sounded so surprised to see you.

He never got that tone, not anymore, but then again, he'd been hanging around here too long now. Starting to get uncomfortable. But a job was a job.

He slammed his fork back into his grilled chicken Caesar salad again when he felt the man walking up behind him, addressing him without looking up. His gravelly voice was dry with something like humor, and he didn't bother with salutations.]

Ordered you a triple-meat. Figured one of us better have something worth eatin'.

Comments

[driveangry]

Why didya think I left? [He snorts his amusement, watching Des go to town on that thing with obvious jealousy.]

Got somethin' most of the boys around here won't touch though. Figured you were the only one to call. You start askin' people to muck around with dreams and visions and they get all kinds of cagey.

[nothingsodivine]

'Cause you didn't fit in with the other scrawny limeys, you macho man, you. [He snorted and took another bite, wiping the edges of his mouth off with his finger and then wiping the grease off on his jeans. Right. Manners. None of those here.] This is gonna be another one of those numbers where everyone tells me I'm in over my head until I pull a miracle outta my ass, huh? Love those. [He bared his teeth in a grin, showing that statement held no trace of irony. He did love those.] Those psionic nutcases or something weirder?

[driveangry]

[Another dry snort that's almost like a laugh, and a crook of a twisted smile] Definitely stranger. [He lowers his voice, glancing to the side once]

Don't suppose you've heard any rumors of this club they're callin' "Nightscape"?

[nothingsodivine]

Not since I've been in Europe. News travels slow outside the states when you're off the grid. [He put his burger down and leaned forward.] When did they start floatin' around?

[driveangry]

Last few months. But it could have been goin' on a lot longer, way I see it. Heard some things that might date back to last summer.

[His tone changes again, to something a bit more wary] Thing is, no one knows how to get to the damn place. There's some kinda magic protectin' it, and the only way people get in is what they're callin' a dreamvite. Comes to 'em like a vision and gets planted up here [he taps the side of his head] - in the subconscious. Even telepaths can't sort it outta the other crap floatin' around in there.

[nothingsodivine]

So we're looking at something that's been in talks for at least a year- probably more- and just now got off the ground. [He picked up a fork and skewered several of his french fries with it, more to do something with his hands.

He gives a sharp whistle.] That's heavy. But does anyone know what the hell they're doing down there? Tapping people's noggins ain't child's play- not on this level. They gotta be doing something a lot shadier than a few dirty dealings. I mean, when was the last time you saw that kind of legwork over drugs?

[driveangry]

Whatever it is we're talkin' powerful magic. The thing that's keepin' this place protected also wipes out the memories of anybody's who's been there. They say it's like having a dream: the more you try to figure out what happened in there, the more you forget. And all they remember is they had one helluva good time.

You can imagine what a bitch it is tryin' to get reliable stories about what goes down inside. Signals must be disrupted, so no one's sendin' any messages out, and they probably do a tech wipe to keep anybody from recording information for future reference.

And to absolutely nobody's surprise, lots of the rich and powerful are payin' big bucks to get a "dreamvite" in the first place.

[nothingsodivine]

That's sixty kinds of not good. [Des massaged his temples.] Okay, so you have some Sally Lane Heiress looking for a new thrill. The drugs are old, the parties suck. She needs something new- so she hears this crap about 'dreamvites.' Kid's never even so much gotten near a spice rack in her life, but suddenly she's shelling out the cash for one of the golden tickets. So you've got a girl in the middle of powerful magic who thinks she's just partying it up and when it's all over? She can't remember. So she keeps going back. And again and again. Mystery's addictive- there's not a drug more powerful than human curiosity.

[He ought to know that. It was why he was in this business.] If the targets are just humans... Hell, they won't even question it while they're there. And shit, if it's not? The turnover rate of clubs catering to this kind of thing is off the wall. No one can keep one open in the public eye for too long without someone torching it because their girlfriend left them for a fucking drow.

But I'd bet my car on the fact that these chumps are doing a lot more than making a shitload of money. Souls, life energy, blood? They're getting something out of these idiots. And no one's gonna give a rat's ass until the first body turns up.

[driveangry]

[Liam just nods as he listens, leaning on his forearms as he spins a salt shaker idly between his thumb and forefinger.]

That's the biggest thing about this racket: it never gets old, because every time's their first time all over again. No worries about patrons getting burned out, distracted by some new thing. Once they're hooked, they've got zero reason to ever stop wantin' to get another go.

[He drops his voice another few decibels, digging in his pocket for a piece of paper.] Story gets worse. [He slides the paper across the table, face down.] Recognize this?

[When turned over, there's an etching of this image - one Des has seen before, on a certain series of fake artifacts in New Orleans. 8|

Yep. Those ones.]

[nothingsodivine]

[Des swallowed and grit his teeth.] Sonuvabitch. [He laid a hand down on top of the image, thereby preventing him from having to stare at it. Tony Dalton in New York would be getting a phone call after this.] This better be the real thing, Chambers. If I get my ass fried over fakes like I did in '82, I'm gonna bust someone's balls. [Not that the real thing would be a good thing. It would be the worse thing, but Des could handle getting his ass kicked for something worth it.] Where'd you copy that from?

[driveangry]

Some young girl a few weeks ago ends up getting this tattooed on her shoulder and postin' pictures of it up on the net. She claimed she didn't know where she got the idea at first, but when questioned, all she said was it came to her in a dream.

[He raises a brow meaningfully] We got the trace that she was on the buy list for Nightscape last month.

You gonna call that a coincidence?

[nothingsodivine]

[He had to go and mention a young girl. That was practically taking the pin out of a grenade Des was already preparing to throw. He grimaced.] No such thing in this business. You got a name on the girl?

[driveangry]

[He shakes his head tightly, though his tone's apologetic] I wasn't the one doing the questioning. Just tellin' you what's trickled down to me.

But I got something better. [He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ziploc bag that's got a small round pearl shaped object in it. He merely flashes it, and then drops it back into his pocket] If you're up for it, we got our hands on one of these pills that's supposed to induce the dreamvite process. Wash it down with something, take a good nap, and supposedly when you wake up, it'll lead you right where you gotta go.

[He leans back, slinging one arm over the back of the booth]

Tell the truth, I'd do it myself, but no one knows more about spotting the fakes on this thing than you do. Wouldn't have called you back for less. [He taps the piece of paper still lying between them with two fingers] I got a theory about gettin' info out too. Everybody's so tech crazy these days, they don't even think about how easy a Degauss spell is. But if you make a hard copy, find a place to stash it in case they frisk, you might be able to get some solid info out.

[nothingsodivine]

[Figures. Hearsay was the cornerstone that PI services were built on.

He leaned forwards at the sight of the pearl and swallowed instinctively, as if he was already thinking how much of a bitch that would be to go down. Of course, he'd do it. Desmond D. Descant? Resist a mystery like this? Anyone would be a damn fool to think he'd turn it down. And of anyone, he'd get out alive.

Too bad his immortality didn't do shit for his memory. His short-term was fine, but long-term was practically dead in the water and he chalked that up to his curse, which meant his brain sure as hell didn't heal itself the way the rest of his body did. If they got to his memory, he'd be just as shot as the rest of those kids.

But he also knew what he was doing. So that was something.] And here I was thinking about just smugglin' in a moleskine. [He smirked. Magic was never his first impulse, but that was because he wasn't gifted with any natural affinity. Easy spells were good. He could hack easy and leave the rest to his own deductive skills.] Gotta love it when people have faith in me instead of tellin' me I'm in over my head. I ain't sure I'm not dreaming right now.

[He leaned back.] You know this is all gonna turn into one big hairy furball, right? It sounds too easy. [But the grin on his face said he wouldn't have it any other way.]

[driveangry]

[Liam actually gives a dry chuckle at that.] Easy. Right.

[He pats his pocket where the pearl's hanging out] I can count on you to share anything you find, I take it? If it turns out I gave this sucker out and you end up keepin' things to yourself, well...

[He clucks his tongue and shakes his head] Might not end well for me. And much as I like you, Des, some of us gotta watch out for our own necks in this business.

[nothingsodivine]

Mouth as big as mine? You'd be lucky if I didn't tell the whole damn block. [Which wasn't true or they wouldn't be having this conversation, but it was Des's sardonic way of making sure Liam knew where he stood- he did a job and he did it well.] I get it, pal. It's all 'quid pro quo, Clarice' in this job, so if I go in and it turns out you and your boys know somethin' I don't, it ain't gonna end well for nobody. [He grinned a toothy predator's grin.] Good thing we're all friends here.

[driveangry]

[He grins wolfishly back] Just like old times. [There's an ironic note of humor there, but he reaches into his pocket to take the bag out again and slides it across to Desmond, pushing out of the booth and yanking on his jacket] You know who to call when you've got somethin'.

[And with that, he walks straight towards the door.]

[nothingsodivine]

[The irony isn't lost on Des, who just holds his grin, although it's twitching into more of a grimace. He claps a hand down over the pearl and slides it easily into his pocket and is back to his burger before any patrons can start chattering about people sliding suspicious shit back and forth. Even in Chicago, there's always a few idiots who would rather start rumors than tend to their own shit, the rubes.

He's halfway through a bite before he realizes that Liam's leaving and almost chokes when it occurs to him that he's stuck with the check. He thuds on his chest a few times when the meaty abomination doesn't go down right and glares in Liam's general departing direction.]

Yeah. Just like old times.