But a bargain must be made

[oceantier]

Who: Silver, J, Lapis, and Frisk
What: J, Lapis, and Frisk form a plan to grab medical supplies for future surgeries. Silver knows all the best places.
When: late March
Where: The city basement The lowest level of the city, just outside the downtown area. In the basement of what looks like a loan company.
Warnings: Surgical equipment? Needles? Property damage if things get ugly.



If the city outside the loan company is dank and dirty, the basement hole-up of the black market group is worse. There's a smell in the air -- something that lingers in the corners with mold and must, mingled with the sharp, too-bright smell of antiseptic and the pungent, dark under-notes of formaldehyde. The men who own this place are black market operators; this is a business, not home, ready to be abandoned at a moment if need be. They don't mind the cracks in the concrete, the odd drip that blooms into mildew. As long as the goods are safe, that's all that matters.

They deal in medical supplies. Surgical ones in particular. For the purposes of showing off the goods, a table has been laid between men and bargainers -- scalpels and scissors and forceps, retractors and wire cutters and boxes of needles. More materials essential to the process are laid aside in their boxes; the men have just unveiled the shinies for the purposes of making a deal.

For the purposes of this mission, Lapis is a young man, dark-haired, too-thin, and silent along the edges of the conversation, dressed in black, face half-hidden in a deep hood. She stays to the side, watching with quick, sharp flicks of her gaze, keeping a wary eye on every movement of the men. Now and again her eyes dart to the backs of J and Silver, then away again.

Frisk she's coaxed closer to her. Without question, she trusts them, but she definitely doesn't trust the men who currently outnumber them 5 to 4. Anything could go wrong here, and with the plan that's in mind . . . she suspects it will.

For the moment Silver is at the center of things, bargaining.

For the moment the rest of them wait.

Comments

[interstellarebels]

Silver has been very clear about what the plan is here: wait for their signal, and then fucking grab the shit and run.

That's basically it. Silver has been communicating with these guys over the acquisition of these materials for a while, and their plan amounts to straight up treachery with no real moral middle ground. They're coming in saying they're going to pay, and then beating up the lackies and running away with the goods instead. As far as Silver is concerned, they don't have much to lose, and there is no reason to feel guilty over black market dealers to begin with.

Whether or not Silver's team agrees with this idea is another question - especially when the equipment they're acquiring is most likely worth at least a few hundred thousand dollars. The scalpels and stuff? It's really just a garnish on the main deal, which is in the those boxes off to the side. The free air freshener for your brand new car.

The boxes are exactly what Silver is investigating, at the moment. Still masked, as ever, they crack open the first crate and root through the packaging, making sure the materials are there. So far so good.

"Wire the cash, and we can deliver it wherever you want," the main negotiator says. "I trust you have your payment in full?"

"Give me a second," Silver replies, dossing aside some packing documents covering the main goodies in the box. This was probably straight up stolen from the hospital supply somewhere. Despicable.

There's a few moments of silence, and then one of the men, wearing a kevlar vest and visibly armed, nods in Frisk's direction.

"Why the hell did you bring a kid along, anyway? You some kind of pervert?"

[determinate]

That comment earns a short, inscrutable look from Frisk, who had previously been peering around the warehouse in an effort to plot out their path. They seem remarkably calm, and really they do feel much steadier than perhaps the situation warrants. It might be silly; real bullets won't be as easy to dodge as magic ones, and they can't hurt a human just by wanting to really hard. But they look at this, and they think about Flowey and Asriel, and it doesn't seem all that scary in comparison. They're only little humans, one soul each, just like Frisk. And Frisk doesn't want to hurt these people anyway, so that part doesn't even matter.

Their hands are loose at their sides, ready to grab what they need to. They can take some of the crates as long as they're on the wheely carts. All those loose scalpels and things, though, would do much better scooped into a Dimensional Box instead of being carried loose. Those first, then the crates.

Their phone is already set to access the empty box, and they're used to getting those open in a hurry. Their golden locket is around their neck, for all the good that'll do. There's not much else to prepare. So they bounce lightly on their heels and turn their attention back to Silver, waiting for the signal.

[eba02]

J isn't exactly happy about the plan, for whatever it's worth. He's not a brawler, and he's fairly certain this is going to wind up being just that. But it needs to be done, and here he is, hair pulled back and hidden under a hood, slouched, hands stuffed in the front pocket of his hoodie. He looks nothing like himself; then again, the only person here who does is Silver, and that's probably a good thing.

There's a full water bottle shoved in his hoodie pocket, because he knows Lapis, and she can do a lot more damage with it than he can. Here to help, right?

For now, he stays quiet, listening hard to the people they're here to meet with in an attempt to ignore Silver's tune. Provided Silver doesn't get angry again, J should be okay.

[oceantier]

Lapis doesn't answer the question about Frisk any more than the others. Let Silver do it if they want. Better to be noticed as little as possible -- just an extra hand there to do a job rather than any form of threat. In the background, she's just a shadow, barely worth taking seriously.

Still, J may be able to feel the touch of her mental fingers on the bottle like fingers on a trigger. The water twitches just slightly, alive under her control.

It's the closest source of water she has. She's already pinpointed three other possibilities -- the pipes in the ceiling, leading up to the loan office, the rusting sink in the corner that likely doesn't even turn on . . . and the sewers far below, where, unbeknownst to all, she is already tugging up watery refuse and waste toward the surface. The faint scent of raw sewage mingles in with the other aromas in the basement, emanating from the half-blocked drain.

[interstellarebels]

It seems like silence is going to be the answer to that provocative question - Silver feels no particular need to explain themselves. Instead, they spent a few more moment looking everything over, before apparently coming to a conclusion.

"Yep. All here," they say, and proceed to perform some kind of weird kick-step dance maneuver out of nowhere, triggering a thumping musical beat that radiates through the floor and knocks all of the gangsters over.

"You guys carry the boxes," they say to their team members, a hand lifted and watching as the black market thieves scramble on the floor in an attempt to get on their feet with a casual vigilance.

[determinate]

Frisk promptly darts into motion as the gangsters drop, zipping over to the table. A few quick motions with their phone causes the device to glow, and they sweep all the surgical tools right off the table and - apparently - into the phone screen. They keep an eye on the gangsters as they're doing so, brows creased. The guys don't look too hurt; that's good. Frisk knows they're thieves and all, but they still don't want anybody to get killed over this, a fight that they didn't even start. It's really scary to get attacked with magic when you didn't even know it existed to begin with. Dying that way is awful.

The screen darkens as the interdimensional box fills up. They turn away, hopping lightly around a fallen criminal, and take up the handles of one of the wheely carts. This one has some smaller boxes, and is light enough that they can push it pretty fast!

Here they go, running away. They're pretty sure the others have this.

[eba02]

He hears the spark of intent in Silver's tune, and that's all the warning J gets that something is going down. It's like standing in the ocean and seeing a wave coming. He braces himself as best he can and rolls with the magic as it surges through the Music, threatening to knock him over. After a moment, it passes, leaving gangsters on the floor in its wake, and J kicks into action. They gotta go, gotta get the job done - he can't take his time recovering.

He's a step or two behind Frisk and moving fast, tucking a box under each arm and grabbing the seam of a third with one hand, leaving a free hand if he needs it. Time to get out of here.

[oceantier]

Something about Silver's demeanor doesn't sit well with Lapis at all. Too confident. Too cocky. If this had been so easy, Silver would have done it by themselves before. It sits with her poorly, itching at the edge of her brain.

Perhaps too, she doesn't like J or Frisk risked to carry boxes.

They're in the middle of a mission, though, and now is not the time to debate Silver's ego or value system. Stepping forward, she reveals a little more strength in her thin arms than expected, hauling up a sizeable box that she grabs onto with both hands.

She makes sure both Silver and J are headed towards the door out before she even considers following.

In the back of the room, sewage water begins to bubble upward from the drain, seeping across the floor. She doesn't completely trust Silver; she'll guarantee their safety if she has to.

***

Meanwhile, this isn't the first time anyone has ever tried to jump this gang, and they're prepared. While the group on the floor is currently trying to struggle through the effects of Silver's attack . . . there's a reason the gang hasn't limited themselves to only one part of the building.

The soundwave that Silver let off sends at least five extra gang members bolting from the loan offices above, guns drawn, blocking the exit to the upstairs. Shouts ring out as the new group warns their would-be thieves back.

If Silver sends out another wave, they're likely to catch their box carriers in the crossfire.

[interstellarebels]

Oh boy. Guns.

Now, that's actually somewhat threatening. Which mean it's about time to summon up the music. It seems to come from basically nowhere - it just rises up around them, and the actions of the combat about to take place seem to naturally fall into its rhythm.

"I recommend just going with it," Silver suggests to Lapis, before starting to fucking dance a bit, expertly dodging the first of what would probably be a few bullets. Perfectly in musical sync.

[determinate]

Oh, good. Guns are being fired.

Frisk knows how to deal with magical bullets. Real ones work pretty differently, but some of the same rules stil apply. They hunch down to make themself a smaller target, hiding as much as possible behind their boxes. It'd suck if one of those got damaged. It'd suck much worse if they got killed now. Real bullets go in a straight line, absolutely simple pattern...they start to zig-zag along to the beat as they go. They know they aren't fast enough to really dodge a bullet, if they even see it coming, but that makes it harder for people to aim right at them.

[eba02]

J has long since come to terms with the fact that the probability of him dying is a lot higher in Vista City than it is at home. That said, he's really tired of getting reminded of that fact.

The guns aren't helping.

There's virtually no warning for the change in the Music; it shifts abruptly, melding perfectly with the song Silver has chosen and nearly knocking J off his feet in the process. Jeez, warn a guy next time-

Complaints for later. Right now, he just doesn't have it in him to keep on his feet and avoid gunfire and resist the pull of Silver's tune, stronger than ever now with the song and the Music mixed in. He gives in to the Music, moves in time with it, and puts a lot more faith in Silver than he should to get them out of this intact.

[oceantier]

Just go with it? What does that even mean? (And where did this music come from, anyway??) Lapis only barely has a moment to register these thoughts before a bullet grazes her arm. She yelps as it sears through; glancing down, she can tell it's done damage. Fortunately, she's a Gem; her body is essentially solid light. There is no blood.

It's just a pointed reminder that she needs to get moving. Fast.

She slips into the beat of the music like she's stepping into water, yanking the liquid out of the bottle in J's pocket. With a flick of her fingers, she separates it into two strands, plunging it into two of the active guns. The water grinds over the barrel spirals, through the mechanisms, bursts out into the gang members' faces and up their noses. With gurgling screams, they topple backward.

The three remaining gunmen are temporarily distracted by the plight of their comrades and could be caught off guard.

The gang members behind, though, are recovering from Silver's attack, struggling for their feet. The nearest one to Silver lunges, trying to catch the helmeted being off guard around the waist and bear them to the floor.

Another of the gang members from the floor -- the one who asked about perverts -- grapples for his gun, aiming it towards Frisk from behind. He's still a little shaky and hasn't fired yet, especially with Frisk darting about like that, but the intention is clear: Take out the kid. That's the weak spot, and what will hurt the most.