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Post by thehero on Oct 10, 2011 3:18:35 GMT -5
(Artie and Alfie)
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They’d been watching this place for months. Now, Alfred didn’t like Nobles, and it wasn’t something he really hid, but he left mostly of them to their business, even if he didn’t understand it. What exactly made a noble, well…a noble? By definition someone who was ‘noble’ was, ‘dignified’, ‘righteous’, ‘wellborn’. At what point did these families get such title and rank, and really, when did it start, and become socially acceptable to for one human being to be of higher ‘rank’ or ‘class’, someone to be given everything from birth, for seemingly nothing for reasons that boiled down to “because I said so?”
Was that all it took to be ‘wellborn’?
Well, it wasn’t something he was fond of, but if having the riches was all it took, well, he was going to take ‘em and put ‘em to good use. Alfred had to admit this was one of the worse noble families he’d ever seen. Not like they were ugly or anything, nah it was worse than that. Over the course of the few months, to count ‘em, three months, Alfred and his men had been watching this place, finding the best way and moment to strike the family had cycled out over thirty servants, some ruthian members that had been planted to observer. Had they done anything wrong? No actually, just the family didn’t like them or whatever, and they would throw out a servant, someone trying to earn a livin’ like they were nothing more than trash. It was annoying, more than annoying , it grated at him, and in all honestly their constant cycling of the help had held up the Ruthians plans to rob these bastards blind sooner.
But….today was the day. The man of the house was some fat-ass retiree of the military, a job where he probably treated his underling just as bad, if not worse (probably worse) than his house staff, and he was having a party for other, rich fatass military retirees so they could all get together and talk of the times where they could pretend they were doing something useful. Said retiree had called for an orchestra for his wrinkly old sausage-fest party, and the youth had snuck himself and a handful of his best into the band. Best part was that they could all play. The wives and children, if they still had any around, were not invited, so it made the decision to go all out and get rid of the old coots that much easier.
Face plain without his glasses, and his hair slicked up and out of his face, Alfred looked the roll of the young violinist he was currently acting. He never did like this instrument, but at least all that time he thought was wasted learning to play it was being put to good use. Just as they finished the fifth number for the night, he saw his ‘first in command’ Tony, currently part of the wait staff, and made eye contact. With curt nods to each other, it was time.
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Oct 10, 2011 4:01:40 GMT -5
But before their own plan of action could take place, a commotion started to happen that didn't seem in line with their plan. One of the most noble of noblemen was stood by the table drinking some punch suddenly started gagging on the drink, and after a moment he collapses, dead and twitching. What was odd was that there was a man stood beside him, sipping on the same drink and he looked content as anything. He was dressed rather extravagantly, yet subletly practically. He was blonde hair, slightly mussed, and had a monocle, but he turned away before anyone could truly get his features.
However, a moment later and there was another commotion, this time someone being shoved over the balcony, seemingly no one nearby to blame. The whole room stopped, paused in sudden trepidation. Security started to file in.
And then, a gunshot fired, and the leader of the house went down, bleeding profusely. Then chaos began.
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Post by thehero on Oct 10, 2011 4:36:40 GMT -5
Something was happening. Something, Alfred hadn't planned, but was starting to feel dangerously familiar. As nobles started to fall one by one like flies, the panic erupted into full blown chaos. As the troops tried to bring around order, a gunshot sang through the air and Alfred swallowed hard, a sick cold feeling twisting in his belly.
"F-fuck" He allowed himself to be jostled into the crowd of panicked workers and nobles. They had been working on this for months, months but now he was fighting to convince himself that he couldn't just throw all that time out the window and run. He wasn't sure it was him. (It's him) He had no proof. ( I fucking know it's him) But did he really want to find out? (Fucking-A, Arthur)
"Al!" Alfred snapped to attention as Tony gripped his shoulder and looked him over, face concentrated, and searching. "...Are we going to continue, sir?"
Throat dry, the boy considered. He could still be wrong, and even if he wasn't, what was Arthur here for? it wasn't as if Arthur had found him. No if he had, Alfred was very sure, one way or another, this woul be going differently. So what then? Probably the same damn thing he was, the money. No way. He'd worked too hard for this. Turning to Tony he nodded as he reached into his suit pulling out his revolver, and his newest toys, smoke grenades. Pulling the pin on the first, he tossed it but nodded to Tony. " Begin."
Separating from each other, Alfred an through the halls letting off smoke bombs, this way and that to cover his tracks. He had memorized the lay out of them place. he'd go straight for the safe. Please, let Lady Luck be on my side Gritting his teeth he gripped his gun a bit harder. Alfred had been avoiding this for over two years, he really didn't want that streak to end yet.
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Oct 10, 2011 10:16:42 GMT -5
Apparently Lady Luck was not.
When Alfred arrived there the safe would already be open. Said noble dressed figure with the mussed blonde hair would be stood in front of it, but his 'clothes' were strewn on the floor, and instead, he was donning a red overcoat. Trademark. His back was to Alfred.
"Now, this is interesting. You really need to learn. If you're going to infiltrate a noble's get-together, you need to learn the ways of the nobles or the position you assume to get in to not be noticed. Now, you got bloody lucky this time, I think -- well, up until this point. You're not getting this money either."
He pulls out a gun, and turns it around pointing it at the other --
But as soon as he sees who it is, his expression falls from his face, and his grip falters.
No...
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Post by thehero on Oct 10, 2011 10:57:41 GMT -5
Coming up on the safe, Alfred raised his gun to point it at the back of the other man's head. Yet the moment he realized who it was, he nearly dropped it. Heart pounding hard against in his ribcage, his brain was telling him to run, run the fuck away, but his legs wouldn't move.
This was what he was afraid of. Two years, two years he'd been successful in keeping out this man's path, but with him standing there, lecturing him about his technique, Alfred nearly felt he'd gone back to the child he was before, learning from this pirate. His face set in a hard smile at that lecture, he always did have to tell everyone what they had done wrong, and lowered his own gun more so. God, just hearing this reminded him once again, why he had left.
His gaze didn't waver as the Captain turned round, gun pointed directly at him. He didn't move as he saw the recognition come across the others face. He didn't even raise his gun, even when his former leader, his caretaker, didn't really lower his. Eyebrows knitting together as his pained smile grew only wider, Alfred really wasn't sure what he felt anymore.
"You see...I never really agreed with your methods of going about these things. And I'll have you know, my way has been working just fine for me But when pirates get involved, well that's a different story. Besides....I learned from the best, didn't I?" A friendly, genuine smile flickered across his face for just a moment before he fully put on his mask, hiding behind it, but he still couldn't bring himself to raise his gun. Not at him.
"....Hello, Arthur."
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Oct 10, 2011 11:25:35 GMT -5
Arthur didn't know what to do. He'd lost ahold of the calm, collected composure he was usually brilliant at holding under pressure, and later on after this he'll be cursing himself for ever doing such a thing.
But right now, all he can do is hold the gun at him, his hands trembling finely. His eyes are wide.
".... Alfred."
His voice as he says the name sounds like a multitude of pain, anger, relief, some sort of joy, some sadness, and confusion and frustration. He's turned from one of the most well known and imtimidating Pirates across Atheros to an emotional, young, lost... father, child, in a way.
Alfred always had that ridiculous tendecy to do that to him.
Arthur remained standing there, but didn't shoot. And Even in his shocked state, a subconscious part of him kept somewhat poised, guarding the safe. This sort of behaviour was practically in his blood.
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Post by thehero on Oct 10, 2011 12:13:43 GMT -5
It took great effort to just remain where he was standing. Alfred didn't know what he had expected of the 'if and when' he ever ran into Arthur again, but just the tones in his name torn at him worse than any wound of the flesh had ever done. He hated feeling guilty. He hated the desire to just let it all go and allow himself to be a child in front of this man. That wasn't what he had made those choices for. He didn't want to regret that decision that day, but right now it was being just too hard.
He never wanted to hurt him.
"Arthur" he all but breathed the name out, taking a small step toward him, palms foward, reaching out slightly, not even sure what he wanted. Yet the sound of trampling feet snapped him back to reality, as did the shouts of the military coming down the corridor. Reaching into his pants he pulled out a proper explosive, unhooked the pin and slung it down the hall, unforgiving of whoever was coming this way.
Turning his attention back to the pirate before him, he let his jaw set in a firm line. "Arthur, now's not the time." He stepped right up to the gun pointed his way, shoulders squared firmly. "Lets get the money and get out." Now that he had been found, he saw no point in trying to run from the Captain anymore. Right now, he just saw the older brother, his second father. He hadn't forgotten what he was there for, but he didn't want either of them getting caught. He just hoped Arthur would agree.
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Oct 10, 2011 16:08:59 GMT -5
Still, Arthur couldn't move properly, the still same fixed expression on him. He didn't seem remotely bothered by the oncoming Military, but his eyes narrowed.
"And how do I know I can trust you?" He hisses, eyes narrowing, How in the bloody hell did the boy think that he could suddenly trust him after all he'd done to him, now? Why does he think his plans would be any different just because Arthur was now on the scene?
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Post by thehero on Oct 26, 2011 3:50:27 GMT -5
Gritting his teeth, Alfred did his best to hold down the frustration. What Arthur said was justified, and that's what made it sting so damn bad. "Well I think it's coming down to do so or shoot me, Artie. And I'd really prefer you didn't shoot me."
He didn't dare move toward the loot, for as much a relationship as they had, Alfred knew damn well the pirate would at least shoot at him if he made a move for the money. At this close range, at him very much meant he would hit too.
Opening his mouth to speak again, Alfred didn't expect the sudden pain that burst through his left arm. He heard the shot, and nearly thought the Captain had shot him, but quickly realized from the pain that it had come from behind him. Grunting curses under his breath he turned and shot the offender square in the jaw. He all but thanked god that the asshole's aim was worth shit.
Pain searing through him, he turned his gaze back to the man, and matter at hand. "So...What is your answer Arthur?" Bringing up his own gun, he just held it, not even pulling the hammer back, an idle threat. "Are we gonna shoot each other or are we getting the cash and hauling ass out?" he couldn't really mask the pain, but the seriousness of the questions still stood.
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Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on Oct 26, 2011 17:12:42 GMT -5
"Don't call me that." He hisses, hating the nickname that Alfred had a tendecy to call him while he was on the ship. It just stung now. Growling, he's about to speak, but he spots the gunman a second before he shoots, and his expression contorts into something that Alfred is hopefully too busy and too in pain to notice before he controls himself again.
He eyes the gun, and while in a way it hurts, Arthur is almost sure Alfred wouldn't bring himself to shoot him. He was too emotional; he was too much like him in this circumstance.
Arthur opens to mouth to speak but all of a sudden he raises his gun and opens fire -- hitting another gunman in the chest behind Alfred before he could get shot. As soon as this occurs, Arthur reaches down and grabs half of the money.
"You never fucking knew how to stand out of bloody fire." He shouts, half regretting saving Alfred, half thanking the fact. Before Alfred can respond, he hurls himself out of the nearby window, one that he may have assumingly come through. Luckily, there's a roof just outside the window, though there are clearly gunshots outside the building by now.
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