2007-08-28: The Hard Way


Felix_icon.gif Mariska_icon.gif Niel_icon.gif Vasili_icon.gif

Summary: Mariska has apparently opted to do things the hard way. Niel obliges.

Date It Happened: August 28th, 2007

The Hard Way

Hartsdale, NY - Somewhere in Primatech

For all of the difficult 'guests' that the Company has accommodated over the years, Mariska certainly makes for a refreshing change of pace. She's been remarkably docile during her brief stay; compliant and obliging, to the letter. Right up until yesterday. Understandably, the farcical family reunion that took place was probably less than emotionally pleasant and, ever since, she seems to have undertaken something of a hunger strike… though, not in so many words. Perhaps she just hasn't been about to muster up much of an appetite? While this might not normally be a concern, considering that her food was the method by which her abilities were being suppressed, it's a problem now as the twenty-fourth hour ticks by and still nothing is consumed.

Poor Mariska. She's lost her daughter, more than once. And found out just what a complete waste of time the girl's biological father actually is. But Mr. Self-Absorbed has been concerned enough that he's been noisy about getting to see her again. So he's brought in, presumably to lean on the unfortunate mother about eating. Not that he's a sterling example himself - the diet the Company's provided has been unappealing enough that's on the borderline between thin and actually gaunt. «Mariska,» He says, once the door is opened. «Hey,» Awkward? Oh, hell yes.

Naturally Felix wouldn't be here alone. Niel Youngblood is here to keep an eye on things. He's armed with a tranq gun, but it's hidden away in a shoulder holster beneath his neatly pressed suit. Just a precaution, really. He doesn't say anything, just slips in the door and stands by quietly, watching.

Awkward isn't even the start of it. Niel isn't Felix's only escort: there's also the illustrious Vasili Babenkov, who sidles on in right behind his fellow agent. There's no suit for him - just normal street clothes topped by a scraped-up leather jacket that he presumably uses while riding his motorcycle, indicating that he might have been on his way out before being tapped to join in the little festival. He carries no gun, only his /fists/. Which are /scary/. And a tray of food, which is somewhat /less/ scary, except if one is counting the taste and texture as factors. He seems less than happy about playing the bus boy.

Despite the sitting room having an abundance of comfortable surfaces upon which to be seated (thus the name), Mariska has chosen to take up space in one of the far corners, with her back against the wall and her knees bent. She hears Felix before she sees him, just barely lifting her head to acknowledge his arrival. It's Niel who earns the address, however. "Who are you?" she queries, tone disinterested. And then there's the bellhop, who earns nothing but a blank stare.

«I'm such a fucking holy terror I need two goons to escort me lest I start wrecking shit and escape,» Felix says, laconically, voice acid. «This little blond prick behind me is Vasili Babenkov. He's scum. Too much of a puss to be a real vor, but he aspires.» He jerks a thumb at Vasili. «No idea who Agent Smith there is. Anyway. They tell me you're not eating. What's up with that? You were the one telling me to comply, and I've been doing the little shuck and jive. You holding out to see your daughter again? Aren't we supposed to be playing along?»

Vasili would have to carry the food. Niel needs his hands free in case that tranq gun needs to come into play. "My name is Niel Youngblood," responds the somewhat imposing figure near the door, smiling in a surprisingly kind manner. "Rumor has it that you haven't been eating." He doesn't really look at anyone else in the room, just Mariska. The Russian bit's not his deal.

The Russian bit is Vasili's deal, though. He eyeballs the other Russians in the room with an annoyed expression that's soon a full-on scowl shortly after Felix opens his mouth, and after a moment he elbows at Niel's side lightly. "They're not being very polite about us. Let's shove the food down the hag's throat and get out of here." And maybe pummel Felix a little on the way back to his cell.

Mariska's gaze drifts over to Felix with a subtle sideways tilt of her head, bores into him for a moment, and then floats back over to Niel. She replies in a subdued version of her typically thick accent, "I'm not hungry, Mr. Youngblood." Gee. I wonder why. At least she's polite about it. Despite her attempts to pretend she isn't hearing anything that rolls out of Felix's mouth, the blond man behind him is inspected with an increasingly narrowed look. «You know my father, don't you… Vasya?»

Well, that's news to Felix. Who clams the hell up, abruptly, and flicks a look over his shoulder at Vasili. And then looks back to Misha. It never occurred to him that Sasha's mother might be in with the red mafia. Which just makes things that much more dangerous.

Niel isn't ruffled about the apparent rudeness of the Russians. He shrugs a little. "That's okay. We can always take Ivanov back to his cell." Hey, if he's going to be a jerk, he doesn't deserve being out, now does he? Back to Mariska: "Thirsty then?"

Oh, hahahah. So this is /that/ Mariska. Vasili suddenly looks a great deal less blustery, ducking his head down for a moment while he holds the tray against his side with one hand, the other coming up to ruffle nervously at his hair. <I do. So do me and him a favor and eat something so we can all go home.>

With eyebrows lifted by a degree and lips hung with half a smile, she shakes her head minutely in response to Niel's follow-up. "No…" She pauses to allow the right corner of her mouth to clear a higher bar than the left in response to Vasili's momentary cowing. It's the shadow of a smirk. "But, you know what I would like…?" This has surely got to be a trick question if ever there was one.

Fel has gone utterly cop-faced, which has become his default expression these days. He's obviously listening with keen interest, and Mish is being regarded with new eyes. Apparently the power dynamic just altered radically.

At least Felix has stopped being rude. Niel's attention is focused entirely on Mariska. The others might not exist right now. "What would you like?"

Mariska lifts her right arm to level a damning index finger at Vasili and declares, "Him." Dun dun DUN! "I would like to talk to him." Take that, Felix, you insufferable jerkface! Confusingly, she's point at the thug and yet her eyes are on the cop.

Felix doesn't seem to much care. He's got that heavy-lidded look of almost terminal boredrom. Which might be genuine, or might be a desperate attempt at concealment.

"Okay." Niel steps forward to take Felix by the arm and lead him back toward the door, where he'll whistle for a passing agent and instruct them to take the Russian back to his cell. Yup, it's as simple as that. However, Niel isn't stupid enough to leave Vasili alone in a room with an Evolved who is not on her suppressants. Even if she's just a teleporter.

The tray actually shakes in Vasili's hands, albeit only for a fraction of a moment. He stares between Mariska and Niel, a frown pulling across his face. "I don't think anything of that sort can be arranged until you eat and drink," he mentions, reaching out almost desperately to grab at one of Niel's sleeves. Wasn't this supposed to be about Feeding The Freak?

Felix's departure seems to have little affect on Mariska, save to possibly assuage some of the awkward tension in the room. Of course, there's still the underlying and not quite explained terror she seems to be striking in Vasili… she crooks a finger and leans her head back against the wall, exposing her throat and emphasizing her growing grin. «I don't bite.» What small comfort that must be. She then gestures to the tray and asks, "Is that what you want me to eat? Bring it here."

After Felix is dispatched back to his place, Niel is content to stand quietly again, watching the events carefully.

Vasili shuffles into the room a little more. Who can blame him for being spooked by the thought of the Russian mob? They're a scary bunch, and they've had their hooks in Vasili's family for quite some time. The entire point of moving away from the motherland was to /escape/ that, but it seems to be following him like a bad penny. Soon the tray is thrust out bluntly towards Mariska's chest. Here. Take it.

Mariska gets to her feet and reaches out to accept the tray, but when she does, she makes certain that both of her hands come into contact with Vasili's; her grip is momentarily vice-like. With both pale eyes menacingly fixed on the blond man, she then draws a dangerous question, "If you could be anywhere in the world right now… where would you go?" She asks in English for Niel's sake, since he's made a point of sticking around. He's obviously here for the show. Mariska seems inclined to give him one worth watching.

Felix is gone and the horrible tension went with him, but there is still something in the air that causes Niel to reach for the tranq gun in his shoulder holster. He's not liking this. "Hang on," he utters before stepping forward and clamping a hand down on Vasili's shoulder. Smile! "Forgot the fork." He procures one from his inner breast pocket and sets it on the tray.

The only reason Vasili doesn't yank his hands back out of Mariska's grip is that he doesn't really want unidentifiable food-based mush all over his favorite leather jacket. The blonde agent freezes in place, his own grip tightening slightly. "Probably California. I could use a vacation, and I'm told I would enjoy surfing." It's a lame joke, even if it does hold a grain of truth. "Why?" The sudden weight of a hand on his shoulder makes him jump slightly, and he looks at Neil like the other Company man has just grown a new set of eyeballs on his nose.

Too bad Mariska's never been to California, eh? Because, KRAK! The air in the room suddenly breaches and snaps, making a noise like a whipcrack as Misha, Vasili, and the tray of food held between them suddenly disappear into nothing. Where do they end up? Moscow. Red Square. For about three seconds. And then, KRAK! Tag team, back again. Misha then liberates the tray from Vasili's shared grasp with a 'gimme dat' jerk and goes to sit back down in her little corner. Just a teleporter. Hrmph. Cue the 'pew pew' of a tranquilizer in the back here, right, Niel?

In the few seconds that the pair have disappeared, Niel's got the tranq gun out. As soon as Mariska and Vasili reappear, it's aimed and ready. POP. And off goes the shot. Forget food, Misha gets a dart for lunch today.

The tray clatters to the floor, the 'lunch' spilling all over it. As Vasili moves to stumble against the wall, /his/ lunch joins it. His is a little more digested, though. And was tastier. Zipping around the world twice in about two seconds doesn't really do very much good for someone's stomach when they're unused to it, and "…I hate teleporters," comes Vasili's now-abnormally-weak voice.

KA-THUNK! Down she goes… like a sack of potatoes ready for the press! Ew. At least she's not conscious for Vasili's incredibly gross contribution to the mess. Someone send in the maid, eh? Or, maybe it's time Mariska got moved down to a cell? This little incident raises countless questions… how long has she been able to 'jump'? If she knew she could leave, why did she stay… or, for that matter, come back? Why take Vasili for a six second ride? Something's not quite adding up in all this…

Niel grimaces when Vasili decides to add his lunch to Mariska's, but he gives the man a light pat on the back. "At least she brought you back." Which hasn't escaped his notice in the least. She's up to something. If she'd wanted to cause harm, she would have stayed away. "Let's get her down to a holding cell. Keep her on suppressants that way." The hard way.

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