2007-12-20: No Escape


Cass_icon.gif Lachlan_icon.gif

Guest Starring:

A thug.

Summary: Lachlan's suddenly stopped selling drugs in the hopes that he can distance himself from the business forever — but nobody likes a quitter.

Date It Happened: December 20th, 2007

No Escape

Cass and Lachlan's Apartment, Brooklyn

Ironically, quitting the drug business cold-turkey isn't exactly easy to do. If there wasn't some serious determination on Lachlan's part, he would've gone running back to it by now, but he's been out for two weeks. And like quitting drugs, it causes some pretty ugly symptoms: namely inability to sleep, paranoia, shakiness, and nausea.

Granted, when one quits drugs cold-turkey, those drugs don't make threats involving home and loved ones.

So in another twist of irony, Lachlan is sitting out on the fire escape in the cold and snow in a tanktop and jeans with his guitar, a bottle of scotch, and a joint. Drugs help quitting the drug business, right? Sure. And it's real healthy, too. He's understandably very mellow and plucking away at the strings of the acoustic, humming to himself and feeling very warm thanks to the pot and alcohol.

Perhaps Lachlan has right to worry. Because of threats and fear of him going to the police, those in that very same drug business have sent a strange sort of messenger to Lachlan. Perhaps he looks like one would expect of an enforcer, as he's a large black man who looks like he could easily push people around and intimidate them just by looking at them. He has a purpose as he walks and when he knocks on the door softly and gets no answer, well, he lets himself in. Because he's not here to wait at the front door. Bonnie, despite the barks is met gently, as he kneels down and holds out a hand for her to sniff.

It's the signals from Bonnie (fuzzy though they are thanks to his inebriated state) that alert Lachlan to the presence of someone in the apartment, not the sounds or movements. If he were in any sort of thinking state, he'd realize that the person isn't Cass, but he figures that's who it is. Quickly grinding out the joint in the ashtray, he hauls open the window and climbs back inside holding the guitar in one hand. "Hey, baby, yer— " … not Cass. That nice mellowed state starts to deteriorate, but he's still sluggish and hazy. "The fuck're ye doin' in here?" he growls at the Man Who Is Not Cass.

This is why drugs are bad. They slow you down, make you not think straight. The intruder, for his part, doesn't seem all that flustered or taken aback when Lachlan growls and swears at him. Instead, he just starts to scratch the dog behind the ears. "I'm, as they say, a messenger. I'm not one for simply leaving messages on machines or hiding in the shadows until the need presents itself. I thought for expediency and honors sake we should meet each other face to face. So you'll know that I'm not joking around when I say that I will take back what is expected. In whatever form that may be. And while I disdain hurting innocents such as animals and women…I will do so if I must. Do we understand each other?"

Lachlan's passive ability allows him to sense dogs within a 100 yard radius even if he can't see them. He can stretch this up to 200 yards however he needs a Superb roll in order to make such a long range effective. He needs Good or above for 100 yards Great or above for 150 and Superb or higher for 200 yards. If he fails the roll he will be uncertain as to the presence of dogs within the given range as it will be lost in "white noise". If he fails spectacularly — say an Average for 200 yard attempt — he must roll Stamina and achieve a Good or higher in order to stave off a headache.

GAME: Lachlan has rolled ANIMAL INSTINCT+PENALTY and got a result of GOOD.

"How the hell'd ye get in?" is Lachlan's next question, which pretty much ignores the other man's question. He glances at the door like it's somehow betrayed him, then he manages to actual focus. The man's talking, and some of those words he doesn't understand, but he understands the important ones: the ones that are talking about hurting his dog and his fiance. Those are the bad words. Disbelief and panic turn into anger and panic. "'M no' doin' shit fer ye anymore, a'righ'? A'ready told yer bloody boss an' now I'm tellin' ye: 'M done. Ye touch m'dog 'r m'girl an' yer dead, got it?" He emphasizes this by pointing at the man unsteadily with the guitar. Yeah. Talkin' to you, mister.

As the man is already petting his dog, well, Lachlan will just have to deal with it. He's not even physically threatening him. "I'm not the one you have to answer to, Mr. Deatley. I'm merely a messenger for now. You should have realized the business you were getting into. It's not one someone simply walks away from." Finally, he straightens to give the Scot just the full effect of his height and his weight. There certainly is a strong man there who can certainly overtake a drugged up Lachlan right now. "I don't believe you're in a position to argue. You made a pact and neither I nor they look too fondly upon those who break their word. Right now you're in no condition to either fight me nor tell me what to do. I don't suspect your ladyfriend knows much about what it is we do here. You're the one who decides just how far she gets into our negotiations. Remember that."

GAME: Lachlan has rolled WILLPOWER+HOT-TEMPERED and got a result of POOR.

Lachlan's not able to transmit 'KILL MURDER MAIM' signals to Bonnie, but she is picking up on the jumbled bunch of emotions that are rolling unchecked off the Scotsman and has the presence of mind to back away, tail tucked. She's confused. Big Black Man is nice and petted her, but Daddy's not happy with him.

And oh, is Daddy not happy with him. "Listen, ye sonuvabitch, I said I'm done with yer bloody boss an' I'm done with the whole goddamn business," he snarls, waving the guitar for emphasis. He hesitates only a moment as a thought is processed (it takes longer when he's high and drunk) and then he starts toward the man with the intention of grabbing him violently and hauling him toward the door. "So ye just go back an' tell yer boss tha' if he doesna leave off, I'll make 'im regret it."

If only the tall black man was so easily moved. He allows Lachlan to grab a hold of his shirt, but then he digs his heels in and there's not too far he allows himself to be dragged. Maybe a foot or so. Then, he shoots an arm out and wraps it around Lachlan's, ducking and twisting, attempting to roughly twist the Scotsman's arm behind his back and then push him over so he's bent toward his knees. For someone as large as he is, he's quite quick and not afraid to use his weight to his advantage. "Now. You're not thinking clearly here, Mr. Deatley. I'm giving you a chance to make things right and to keep your lady out of it. All you have to do is finish what you started. I'm willing to make things very unpleasant for you because I cannot abide by pact breakers. And those things you rely on in your life become forfeit to the people you gave your word to."

Of course he's not thinking clearly; he's not sober. But even if he were, Lachlan's response would be pretty much the same. And drunk, high, or sober, his response to having his arm twisted and jerked behind his back would be the same, too: he bellows out a cry of pain and goes still, held bent over. Bonnie again backs away and crouches lower to the floor, uncertain, and then she starts to bark — yap, really. The sort of sound a dog makes when they think they should be doing something ferocious, but they're not too sure about it. "Leave 'er the hell alone," Lachlan seethes between clenched teeth, "'r yer dead. 'M no' goin' back, an' yer no' comin' back 'r yer dead, ye got it? Yer dead." And once again, he attempts to lash out, this time with the other arm — the one holding the guitar still. It's not a very strong attempt due to his position, but he's definitely aiming for a couple vital bits between the man's legs.

There's a clucking sound in the back of the man's throat. Disapproving. Though he mostly dodges out of the way of the arm, it catches him hard against his thigh. He, however, does not cry out in pain. Instead he just bends Lachlan over a little more, making the pressure against his arm even greater. "You don't even know who I am." The barking is ignored for now, but he's certainly making sure that dog isn't going to attack him. "You've grown complacent and weak, Mr. Deatley. If you'd prefer, I will kill you now without the fuss. If you're so reluctant to keep your promises."

Once again, Lachlan lets out a pained sound, though this one is less a bellow and more of a bit-back shout. Forget the talking. He's still got the guitar and his arm is being pulled back to its limits. The socket could give way easily, and it hurts. So he swings the guitar up over his head in the hopes of bringing it into contact with the man holding him. Complacent and weak he is not.

While the man is strong and nimble, there's not much he can do with a guitar bring flung right at his face. He barely has time to duck as the acoustic connects with the side of his head, forcing him to stumble backward. His grip on Lachlan looses slightly, but he doesn't waste time in clearing his thoughts or his head. Instead, he jumps back into the fray with a growl, moving to shove the Scotsman against the wall for his acting out.

Once he's semi-released, Lachlan tries to get to his feet. Being unsteady and caught at such an inopportune time in his movement, however, works in the other man's favor. The Scot hits the wall hard and has his front pinned there. The broken guitar is dropped in the process and Bonnie picks up barking with renewed fervor, though she continues to maintain her distance. Lachlan lashes out with a foot behind him, trying to kick a shin or knee or something. He's not done fighting.

Once Lachlan is pinned against the wall, the man finally takes a moment to blink and clear his head from the smashing it took just a moment ago. It's something that he shouldn't have done so quickly, because the kick to the shin hits him full on and he grunts in pain and is pushed backwards just enough so that the pressure upon Lachlan isn't as much as it was before.

Which is all the opportunity Lachlan needs to try to twist himself around and throw a hard fast punch at the man's gut. Or, well. He wants it to be hard and fast. In reality, it's pretty wild and not exactly quick. Don't drink, drug, and brawl, kids.

As the wild punch comes, the mystery man can see it's path from a mile away. Remaining where he is, he just sidesteps at the last moment and attempts to shove Lachlan in an effort to get him pushed down onto the couch nearby. It's a physical note to tell the man to sit down and shut up. Unlike Lachlan, he's not drunk or on drugs. His attack is precise.

WHA-fwump. If he hadn't been shoved, Lachlan's fabulous whiffer of a punch would've sent him straight onto the floor. As it happens, the quick movements and finding himself suddenly sprawled on the couch is more than enough to daze the Scot for a moment. He just lays there, trying to clear his head and make sense of how he wound up here and not with his fist buried in a Black man's gut. Bonnie's barking continues throughout.

Lesson learned, Scotsman? The big man unsheathes a knife that was in his pocket. He says nothing too threatening quite yet. Hopefully the weapon will get the point across. "I'm only here to give you the message." And it looks like orders are important to him. "Now, message is delivered." Flicking the knife downward, he aims it at Lachlan's leg. Nowhere arterial, it's more toward the meat of the edge of his thigh. It will bleed and it will hurt, but it's mostly meant to be a surface wound. With that, he turns around to leave the way he came in. Which he never explained how he did.

Lachlan does indeed go stiff when he spots the knife. Okay. Now he's scared. Because he's unarmed, and he's in no position to get into a knife fight. So when that blade comes down in the general region of, er, important parts, he jerks forward to try to protect himself, but he's slow. The knife splits open his jeans and the skin on his thigh — not life-threatening, sure, but damn it stings. Bonnie yelps as well as though cut herself, but neither one of them attempt to renew the fight. The messenger gets out without any further hassle, and Lachlan clutches the wound beneath both hands, squeezes his eyes closed, and rolls his head back onto the arm of the couch. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

The man has gone, closing the door quietly behind him. Were Lachlan able to follow him, he wouldn't get very far. As soon as he's to the stairs, he's out of the building and disappearing down an alleyway.

It's awhile later when Cass finally returns the apartment. What with Sylar having been moved out of Bat Country, she feels like she can come home without always worrying about what is happening at the labs. Though worried and distracted and dealing with strangeness, it's hard to miss a mess in the apartment and a bleeding fiancee on the couch. Rushing over, the woman moves to put pressure on the wound. "What happened?"

Normally, Lachlan would have had the presence of mind to clean things up before Cass arrived home, but exertion+panic+pot+alcohol+laying down+closing eyes=sleep. And so that is how Cass finds him when she comes home, with the guitar broken on the floor and a passed out/asleep Scot on the couch. He opens his eyes blearily when he hears a voice and blinks at his fiance when she's suddenly there putting pressure on the wound. The blood from it is now half-dried, but still oozing some. It takes a few moments for things to process in Lachlan's hazy brain, but soon he realizes that Cass is home. And things are Messy. And there's pot on the fire escape. "Uh." He glances at the guitar, his leg, the guitar, his leg. "Was drinkin'. Tripped. Cut m'leg onna damn guitar." Yeah. That's it. Way to go, Sherlock.

Bonnie sits nearby trying to get her face into Cass' for some attention, because scary things happened and Daddy's been asleep, so she's not had much in the way of reassurance. Oh, if only Cass could read her mind.

GAME: Cass has rolled PERCEPTION and got a result of GREAT.
GAME: Cass has rolled MEDICINE and got a result of GREAT.
GAME: Lachlan has rolled BLUFF and got a result of AVERAGE.

Luckily, Cass is prepared for cuts and bruises and just about anything else that can be thrown at them. Be prepared and all. Going out to get the first aid kit, she comes back to start patching and cleaning him up. There's a distinct frown on her face as she starts, looking at the wound, then at the guitar, and then at Lachlan. "This is a clean cut, Lach. If you'd have cut yourself on the guitar, there'd be splinters here and it would be jagged." She hasn't been doing science and medicine for nothing. That and she's not stupid. "What happened." If only she could take Lachlan's powers and read Bonnie's thoughts to be able to piece together what really happened here.

Now this is just not fair. Even in his best state, Lachlan isn't the best at lying to Cass. Now he's drunk and coming down from a high (oh man, he's hungry) and just woke up to boot. His brain's not exactly working at its finest. "Nah, nah, no' onna guitar, onna … onna knife." And when there's cleaning up of the wound, he squirms and lets out a yelp. "Christ, d'ye gotta do tha'?"

"You said you cut yourself on the guitar." Cass wipes away the dried blood and then starts to put a bandage on the wound. Poor Lachlan is getting a worried and suspicious Cass in the bargain, so she gets annoyed. "Do what? Patch up your leg from some sort of knife wound that might have been a guitar wound? I guess I don't have to if you don't want me too."

Uhoh. Lachlan seems to wither under that annoyance and goes quiet for a little while, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. After a few moments of silence, he finally mutters, "Was a knife." That's his story and he's stickin' to it. That is until Cass punches another hole in it and he has to change it. Wow, he's … really starting to feel hungry.

That may not happen for now. Cass is just annoyed. "How did you cut yourself on a knife there?" She's just wanting to know what happened. As she finishes up with pasting on a bandage, she moves away sits back so that she's leaning on the opposite arm of the couch. This way she can watch him.

Crap. The gears in Lachlan's head turn and churn and crank and creak and generate the best explanation ever to have been considered by a drunk/high Scotsman: "Uh, tripped." Yes. That is the whole of his explanation. Bonnie plops down on her haunches and stares at the pair uncertainly. She can tell something is Uncomfortable here.

"You tripped on a knife?" The skepticism is clear in Cass' voice. It doesn't sound plausible. It sounds more like what she would do. She is pretty klutzy, after all. Something certainly is uncomfortable. "Lachlan. If that's what happened, then that's what happened. But if you're lying to me…" she sighs and shakes her head. "I thought we had an agreement on that." The lying.

Well. Lachlan is only kinda lying. Because it was made with a knife, but he didn't exactly trip and wind up with a gash on his leg. And he did promise not to lie anymore, and he hates that he is right now. But he also knows that the truth in this case is probably not the best course. It's a very big dilemma. So? He decides to half-truth. Again. He sighs and sinks down into the couch further. "S'm guy broke in. Fought 'im an' broke the guitar an' he cut me. S'all."

"What!" That is something that Cass is very willing to believe, as break ins seem to be happening all over the place. "What do you mean someone broke in? What was he looking for? Where did he go?" This is all too similar to what happened before at Bat Country. Does he know where they live now? "It was only the one guy?"

"Dunno. Money. 'Unno where he went." Lachlan shrugs nice and big and appears like he wants to just disappear into the couch. "Yeah, just the one. Big black guy." Real big. With a big knife.
Big black man. With a knife. This is scary and now seems to be targeting her fiancee as well as her work. That's not good. "He wasn't wearing a mask?" Could it be just a totally unrelated incident? She's not sure. But, it has certainly shaken her.

"Nah, no mask." Great, so now he's worried Cass and gotten himself cut and probably just put her life in grave danger. Good job, there, Lachlan. After a short pause, he rises to his feet and starts for the kitchen, stride slightly affected by the bandage on his leg. "'M hungry."

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