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Post by veronicajames on Aug 13, 2009 8:36:07 GMT -5
"Oh, I do hate it when they think they can plan out every detail. It really leaves no room for spontaneity. Especially with explosions. You can only pull off so many major explosions with getting someone on your tail." Veronica started to polish off her drink as well, but then put the glass down from her lips as she realized something hilarious.
"They didn't make you do the schpeal, did they? You know, the whole 'Hi, my name's John, I like killing things' bit?"
Despite the weapons he'd shown her (and the several more obviously hidden on his person) the fellow seemed genuinely scared by something. Perhaps his last time in Cardiff with all those explosions hadn't gone as well as he was making it out to be.
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Post by Captain John Hart on Aug 23, 2009 14:18:55 GMT -5
John motioned with his hand, excitedly. “Mmmm, the trick is, set them up ahead of time and get yourself a good distance and set them off at once. That was how I did Cardiff. That way, they’re all too busy scrambling to get their shit together and you could be halfway to Alpha Centuri…or something,” he said, realizing his last comment and drank back some more vodka.
John was glad when she spoke of the rehab again. “Totally. I was like, ‘hi, my name is’ and they were like, ‘hi John’. Then we had to talk about our feelings and in the end, I shot the councillor.” John shrugged indifferently. “He was asking for it. Kept touching my shoulder like he had a right.” He snorted remembering how he had grabbed the man’s arm the last time he’d touched him after warning him to not do it again. John only liked touches that were going to lead him down carnal paths. He had bent the councillor’s arm back, hearing the elbow snap. The rest of the room erupted in chaos as he pulled the gun he had hidden in his…yeah, well, it was hidden and he shot the bugger between the eyes before storming out.
“Yeah, rehab was a joke.”
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Post by veronicajames on Aug 27, 2009 23:16:13 GMT -5
“Mmmm, the trick is, set them up ahead of time and get yourself a good distance and set them off at once. That was how I did Cardiff. That way, they’re all too busy scrambling to get their shit together and you could be halfway to Alpha Centuri…or something,”
Alpha Centuri? Oh, he wasn't another one of those, was he? Veronica had been starting to like this bloke: he was a little bit mad, but he understood the life of a killer. But if he was another space-man... well, she had had her fill of that with the Captain, and wasn't planning on revisiting that. She tossed back her glass, feeling warm as the alcohol finally started to kick in a little.
"I've never had to do anything like that. Well, there was this one time, but I was undercover. Had these huge, thick glasses... It was hilarious! Really shocked the poor sods. ...'Course, I was there to murder somebody's kid brother, but that was a simple pull-the-trigger affair. I think the group discussion was the most fun." Veronica smiled to herself, remembering. "I was supposed to be some sort of sex addict, you see, but getup was mousier than a librarian. Most of them found the idea rather shocking, but sometimes its easier to hide in the spotlight than the shadows. People don't expect you there."
"Probably one of my favorites is to booby trap things. Bloke walks into a room and ends up with a razor blade lodged in his throat, that sort of thing. You can't always be sure to get your target, but you might get a friend or relative, and that scares the shit out of them. They'll know someone's after them then, and panic and try to flee... that's the really entertaining part." The alcohol was making things a bit easier now, allowing her to focus mostly on the conversation and not on the heavy duties at hand. She didn't want to have to think of Jack anymore. Jack the conman, Jack the lover, Jack the leader, Jack the Immortal. They were so much alike in many ways; they both had wild pasts, a shady previous career... they both got sucked into Torchwood. They were survivors of violence, the last of their crew.But Jack because he had to, and her only because she got lucky. Veronica absently placed her left hand on her right wrist, feeling the wires that replaced sinew. Maybe not super lucky.
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Post by Captain John Hart on Oct 17, 2009 15:06:01 GMT -5
“Sex addict?” John raised an interested eyebrow. “I’d love to have seen the costume. Something forbidden and mysterious about women in glasses and all proper. Usually those types end up being the real freaks in the sack.” He licked his lips, thinking to himself as he drank back his alcohol. He gave a satisfied ‘mmmm’ thinking of Veronica in thick glasses, a pencil skirt and button down blouse. The whole idea was beyond delectable and he had an urge to say, ‘yes, ma’am, I have been a naughty boy’.
He was pulled from his dirty thoughts and nodded at her razor blade comment. “True, that! But you have to admit, there is something to be said about walking up to a mark, introducing yourself and landing a bullet between their eyes.”
He remembered the moment he had Eye-Candy in the elevator. He could have done with him right there but something held him back. Partly because he needed the shit, partly because he knew if Jack had known he was the one to kill his new toy there would have been no chance for him, ever. Even now, despite Jack’s hatred, he didn’t think he could kill the little Welsh bastard and that confused John. He was never one to shy away from eliminating the competition. He shuddered, disgusted with himself and knocked back another shot.
He glanced over to see her rub her arm. He narrowed his eyes, half wondering and half not giving a crap. Everyone had secrets. Hell, his were so big they could choke a bloody horse. Some weren’t even his to keep. Wouldn’t Jack just love to know why they took those two years from him, he thought and smirked at his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall behind the bar. That was a secret he would keep till his grave. Sometimes a person just didn’t need to know exactly what they were capable of and Jack was definitely no exception.
“So, me and you-” he said, waving a lazy hand between them, “-we should do something. You know, if you aren’t busy with your own evil plots. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to know what they could be. I’ve got my own business to deal with, but if you feel like being crazy we could…oh, I don’t know, hold a politician hostage, ask for outrageous things in trade, have them grovel at our feet, try to expose a major social taboo as being real and then kill the lot of them.” He leaned in his seat and stretched. “I’m just saying, if you’ve the time.”
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Post by veronicajames on Oct 24, 2009 18:55:58 GMT -5
“So, me and you-” he said, waving a lazy hand between them, “-we should do something. You know, if you aren’t busy with your own evil plots. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to know what they could be. I’ve got my own business to deal with, but if you feel like being crazy we could…oh, I don’t know, hold a politician hostage, ask for outrageous things in trade, have them grovel at our feet, try to expose a major social taboo as being real and then kill the lot of them.” He leaned in his seat and stretched. “I’m just saying, if you’ve the time.”
Veronica looked from John to the empty glass in her hand, running over then details of her schedule in her mind. Mercenary work, she considered vaguely, was a lot like prostitution. Hours were strange, and weren't at the same times day to day, or even month to month. Sometimes your work overlapped, with your victim unknowingly paying you to kill another before you got rid of them. And sometimes your work and your play overlapped.
There was certainly no reason she couldn't kill this bloke when the game was over; she would have no remorse for doing it now, if it came to that, even though they had been sharing drinks and stories for the better part of an hour. It was just that she wasn't being paid for it, and she was feeling lazy.
"Work starts at five.But until then, I've got time to kill."
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Post by Captain John Hart on Oct 30, 2009 8:50:39 GMT -5
John sat in silence as she seemed to think over his proposition.
He honestly didn’t know why this needed such deep thinky thoughts. Either you wanted to play or not. Then again, not everyone in the universe was so flexible as John. (Both figuratively and literally. Wink wink!) It only made sense that she was trying to free her schedule up to fit him in.
Honestly, he should be flattered. Instead he got a little irate, as he tended to get when he felt things weren’t going to go his way. Oh sure, he wanted to push her against the wall and do dirty things to her but he wanted to do that to the bartender too, not to mention the poodle down the road. Really, it wasn’t like he didn’t have options. He still needed to find Jack and poke at him with a stick for awhile. That not dying thing brought a whole new meaning to the words ‘Autoerotic Asphyxiation’.
He shook himself from his thoughts as Veronica finally spoke up.
"Work starts at five.But until then, I've got time to kill."
John looked at her, lifting his eyebrows questioningly. “Really? Cool.” He lifted his drink up to his lips, knocked it back and stood, stretching his arms over his head, feeling a ripple of pops run up his spine. He gave a great yawn as if just awakening from a deep nap.
He shifted his belt, mentally checked his weapons and absently rubbed his wrist, just under where his wrist strap sat.
“Let’s go! Day ain’t getting any younger!” he said, like a little kid getting his way, smiling brightly, eyes shining.
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