savetheearth | A No Good Very Bad Week

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A No Good Very Bad Week

Who: Anthony and Doppelganger!Cesar
What: D!Cesar has summoned Tony to come help him "move something" in a heavy box. Nothing suspicious here at all.
Where: Some grimy abandoned store on the Southern edge of town. Still not suspicious.
When: A couple/few days after the real L is rescued from a closet.
Warnings: Violence, demons, language, business as usual. Doppelgangers are a mess.

It'd been a crap week so far; Drunk, left in a ball pit, and a particularly stubborn clinging hangover had left him feeling slightly off and irritable as it was. The fight with Nathan, doppelgangers all over the network causing a ruckus. Lazarus' doppelganger was a month's worth of trouble all on his own. Honestly, Tony needed a break. Problem was Tony didn't know how to take a break. If someone asked him for help, he'd probably try and do it. That has never backfired on him before or anything ~~cough cough dog woman cough mafia.~~

So when Cesar contacted him it was with a small amount of reluctance he agreed to lend a hand. He'd slipped up and let Cesar see how strong he was a few days prior, so of course now he'd been asked to carry something. Ugh, at least with Shou's help Tony had gotten better at controlling his strength so he wasn't just breaking things willy-nilly. This was a simple matter and should be over with quickly enough. Then he could go home and back to bed for a while.

As predicted it took him close to a full hour to reach the destination. Way out of the way for someone to be storing things, but whatever, Tony didn't care to ask. From the look of it it had been a hardware store at one time, but now it was just a long empty building with boarded up windows and "No Tresspassing" signs all over it. And a healthy colony of cobwebs to boot, just the thing to set the mood. Just what did Cesar want in this place, anyway?

Ah well, hopefully they could just get it over with quickly.

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All the shelves are still there, rusting and sprinkled with the coating of dust and age that covers everything else in the building. There are cashier counters by the door. Further on, walls stretch to bisect the room, stopping just short of forming an actual door. Dust is thick in the air, and it's hard to believe that anyone's been here since it was first abandoned.

The front door opening and closing is loud in the relative silence. Tony will only have time to take a few steps in when a knocking sound carries over. Metal on concrete? It sounded like it was something tapped against the floor. Maybe it came from beyond those walls? Now there's plastic scraping the floor--a cooler? A bucket? The sound doesn't last long, and like everything else, its source is out of sight.

Cesar is watching the room's narrowest point, standing as far as he can without letting himself be visible. One hand is resting on the handle of a light aluminum baseball bat, and the other holds a rope. Even cheap tricks can go a long ways: he's jury-rigged something that could come out of a middleschool bucket-of-water prank, held at just the right trajectory to douse anyone who walks between the walls' opening.

All he needs to see is Tony himself, and the trap will spring.

Edited 2015-02-25 04:24 (UTC)

The place sure had seen better days. Tony sniffs, and steps gingerly around the scattered debris, carving a path through the dust. Did anyone honestly still have something of worth stored here? The place looks like it'd been ransacked ages ago.

He pauses at the sounds, waiting for his eye to adjust in the dim light before he moves too far in. "Cesar?" Strange that he can't see him, perhaps he's in the back where the scraping is coming from? "Hey, where are you? Not in the mood for hide and go seek, dude."

Creepy, entire place is creepy and sets him on edge. Tony can't quite pinpoint why, but his nerves are prickling in an entirely unfamiliar manner that still somehow makes him wary. Maybe it's just paranoia after a long and stressful week.

Why does this feel like a set up?

Cesar noisily drags a foot on the ground in response, waiting where he is. He can hear the man crunching grit underfoot as he walks towards him, but he can't spring the trap until Tony's actually within sights. He sounds like he's fifteen feet away from the wall-gap. Ten feet away. Five. Two--

Cesar waits until he's solidly over an invisible target before yanking the rope, sending a solid shower of diluted holy water down towards him. Cesar immediately takes up the bat in both hands, lifting it and watching for the holy water's effects. If there's no immediate response, he'll charge forward, and if not--it should be interesting.

Ah, there he is. You know, they should really work out some kind of signal, whistles or something for basic communication like 'I'm over here' or 'stay back gigantic spider we need a warhead'. You know, the important things.

Tony, brushing aside his concerns steps over the threshold. "Hey so what--" He's cut off, a torrent of water sloshing over his head. For a normal person that would be inconvenient and damp, but for Tony it felt like he'd just had scalding water dropped over his head, or acid. He roars in pain, launching himself backward away from the water and straight into a shelf. It shifts, some old boxes scatter to the floor and makes a right ruckus. In the chaos Tony's trying desperately to claw the water off of his smoking form, brush it out of his hair, anything to be rid of the pain.

He doesn't instantly realize that it was Cesar who pulled the stunt, and for the moment he's more or less stunned and scrabbling to get away. Fat load of good it's doing when you're soaked in it and can't really see where you're going, though.

Listening to Tony bellow is like listening to a shrieking guitar solo: his pulse quickens, and he bares his teeth in a brief, satisfied grin.

It lasts no more than a second, and he's grabbing a thermos from the shelf by his feet and clipping it to his belt, striding Tony's way. The man seems temporarily incapacitated, but Cesar's job here is to make sure he never tries anything like that again, and this job isn't done yet.

He's close enough. He shifts the bat back into a two-handed grip and jabs it at Tony's face, planning to pin his skull between the metal and concrete. This isn't to kill him, or even to hurt it in itself.

He needs his attention, and damn if he's not going to get it.

Edited 2015-02-26 04:32 (UTC)

He's shaken and confused. Tony's been through pain, a lot of pain, but he can honestly say he's not felt anything quite like that. It wasn't just a flesh burn, not like one might expect from acid or scaling water, it was as if it seared straight to the bone and back out again. Fortunately the worst of it didn't last long, a debilitating shock along with the echo that allowed it in the first place, but it was rapidly fading into a sort of dull background ache.

Enough that he sees the bat jabbing for his face and jerks back in time to avoid getting his nose bashed. Instead he just smacks his head into the concrete with an audible crack and curses under his breath. A sharp breath drawn between bared teeth, and once his vision stops swimming he focuses on the familiar face of his attacker.

"What the fuck Cesar?"

The demand is nearly a snarl, eye narrowed in suspicion. This certainly isn't what he was expecting when he agreed to help, sure he and Cesar weren't exactly bosom buddies but he'd not expected something like this.

Not enough.

Cesar steps around and away from possible grasping arms, before darting out with the bat's wider end again. This time he's slower, and pushes directly at Tony's forehead. Who cares if it forces Tony's head against the injury he just made, he's doing this to keep him immobilized. The more pain he's in, the better.

Edited 2015-02-26 04:56 (UTC)

At least it isn't a gun, although Tony's fully aware he can withstand a direct shot to the face. Still, rebuilding your brain is a painful and agonizing process he'd rather not go through that again, thank you. If he had two functioning eyes, or at least one not behind an eye patch, they'd definitely be crossed in staring at the bat. He squirms and hisses but otherwise stays where he is. Pain and confusion effectively immobilizing him for the moment.

Not to mention the distinct sense of betrayal, what is Cesar doing, and why? "Seriously, dude, step off." Says the guy pinned to the wall. Little does Cesar realize is that all of this is only serving to infuriate him, and an infuriated and threatened Tony? Goes for the throat at a moment's notice.

There's been a few times when Cesar missed having a working voice more than anything else. Being able to express pain, pleasure, even just something as mundane as ordering food--this time ranks pretty high there, though. He shifts the bat in his grip to brace it with his elbow, freeing one hand.

The hand produces a folded up piece of paper that he shakes open. There's already writing on it, in bold permanent marker. It's held up close enough that it probably fills Tony's vision, blotting out the rest of the room.

If you ever go near L again,
you won't walk away.

I'm watching.

The whole paper thing does take away from the effect a little bit, or would if if Tony didn't still feel like his skin was being melted off. What the hell was even in that bucket? He's shaking, trying really hard to hide it but it's there, braced against the wall while he struggles to maintain some kind of composure in the face of whatever all of this is.

"What?" Okay no, that doesn't make a lot of sense at all. His head's swimming and the urge to lash out is nearly overwhelming. If this was someone he didn't know, Tony may not have bothered with so much restraint, but he's trying desperately to avoid aiming to disembowel Cesar for his attack. "I don't know what the hell you're on about and I suggest you get the god damned bat out of my face asshole."

Who's the one pinning the other to the concrete with a metal baseball bat here? Cesar shoves the sign closer to his face insistently, leaning into the bat. He doesn't know how much force it takes to crack a human skull, but Tony's not normal, so he's not worried. He'll be fine.

Even if he isn't, the doppelganger isn't too concerned. Tony might be one of those people Cesar could've tried to patch things up with before, but L ranks much higher on his list of importance. If it means keeping L safe, he's alright with Tony being out of the picture.

Alright. He was going to give Cesar a chance to explain himself, as surely there's a logical and not completely bat-shit insane reason behind randomly attacking a friend, but clearly Tony's wrong.

He's also very done with this entire week, and is really done with being on the receiving end of beatings and abuse. Fine, Cesar, you want to play with a demon? Have one.

The only warning is another snarl as he reaches up to wrench the bat free of Cesar's hand. At the same time shoving himself off of the wall and directly at him. He may be unarmed, but the bonus side to being remarkably durable, strong, and fast means he can use himself as a weapon these days. Or at the very least a battering ram.

A battering ram that has just run out of patience.

Ya valio, he's fucked. The bat is ripped from his grasp, and Cesar takes a quick step or three away from him, feeling every nerve of him go on high alert. He's angered a predator, and he's not stupid enough to think he can take him. The closer hand scrabbles for the thermos at his hip, yanking its clasp off.

He's not going to waste time communicating. The soup-thermos is big, with a wide opening, and he flings as much pure holy water in Tony's face as one swing will give him. It won't be the full thermos, but if he can bring him back down, or buy himself time to run, that's all he needs.

Edited 2015-02-26 05:41 (UTC)

Cesar, when you went to a church to ask for gallons of holy water did you perhaps stop to think and ask what you might be up against? Just out of curiosity? No?

The bat is his now, and in a fluid motion he flips it and catches it by the handle deftly in the air, still baring down on Cesar. Mostly he'd been bluffing, puffing up and roaring to drive back an attacker he doesn't quite want to take on, but Cesar's reaction changes that quite quickly.

Though a thermos isn't the best for aiming thrown liquids out of, enough does slash across him to get the point across. That other stuff wasn't the real deal, this is where the real pain is. A deep, terrifying and visceral kind of pain, impossible to properly describe and absolutely maddening. Tony lets out a sound that's somewhere between a screech and a roar, stumbling back, thrashing, and finally swinging the bat furiously at the nearby shelving unit he'd bumped into the first time. The bat bends effortlessly, the shelf beam itself buckling under the force and sending the entire thing crashing to the floor.

Best take the opening while you can, Cesar, because Tony's quick to fixate back on him, and this time he looks like he means business.

Shit shit shitshitshit Cesar is out of there. He backed up some of the way so he could still keep watch over Tony while the man thrashed, but the slam of the bat against shelving is more than enough to tear him from that useless behavior. If he doesn't run now, he might not have enough of himself intact to collect his own pieces later.

Cesar turns and darts behind some half-collapsed shelving to a back hallway, ready to charge through the back door he'd unlocked earlier. It was one of the few preparations he'd made, making sure there was a way out that no one else knew about, and hopefully it'll pay off now.

Tony lunges after him, that predator instinct kicking in at the sight of prey trying to flee. Luckily for Cesar he's still off balance and instead of closing the space between them neatly he plows into the collapsing shelving unit, finishing the job. It'll take a moment or two for him to shake free of the tangled mess he's gotten himself into.

Really gotta work on that speed control thing, so he stops under and over correcting darn it.

Cesar's not a runner, but he probably sets a few new records for the 'quick escape towards an exit with a raging half-demon charging after him' category.

His car is parked out back, around a slight corner and half hidden by the back lot's overgrown weeds. Now he's fumbling for his keys post-haste, snatching the door open and trying two or three times to fit the key in the ignition. Nothing's fast enough, everything's going as slow as watching honey drip...

He really does, and he's out the door before Tony disengages himself from the broken shelving unit. He ends up with a twisted scrap of metal in hand out of it. A makeshift weapon that should serve his purposes well. Since the demon first awoke this is the first time Tony can recall being in agreement with it. Instead of fighting down its wants and instincts they're working together, both equally done with this kind of assault at the hands of others.

It's strangely liberating. So thanks, Cesar, for teaching Tony how to get along with himself.

He kicks open the door, striding out into the small back alley after his assailant. Still fumbling with his keys (why did he lock the door? Idiot) Cesar's easy to spot. But now it doesn't seem Tony's exactly in a desperate rush to murder him. He strides toward him confidently, perfectly calm if not for the menacing snarl still marking his features.

"Not so tough when you're not the one with the bat." He comments, chucking the piece of twisted sharp metal at his back window.

Seriously dude you should run before he catches you.

Why did he lock the door? The car is sleek. All rounded edges, perfect red paint, cut from the same cloth that the sports cars of dreams are made of. He's prized this car since the day he got it, even going through all the trouble of driving it from his original college town.

Then Tony throws the mangled spear through the back window, slicing right through the passenger's seat and sticking through the dashboard beyond. Cesar can only gape in open-mouthed horror, before he's turning the engine on so hard the key almost snaps, yanking the car into gear.

Tony is between him and the small lot's nearest road. Cesar pulls around the car in a tight arc, facing both of them.

He floors the gas.

Edited 2015-02-26 21:09 (UTC)

Well that worked better than Tony was expecting. He glances at his hand, a little surprised by the throwing power in his arm. Sure, he knew he was strong, but damn. A very tiny part of him mourned the car, just slightly. It sure is a nice ride, or well was until a twisted metal lance got launched through the back window anyway.

Now in this situation facing down a sports car, being driven by a man who may or may not have fully intended to kill you moments before, most people would have at the very least moved out of the way post-haste. Tony? Oh no, Cesar started this pissing match and Tony's going to finish it. He sure as hell isn't going to be intimidated by something as mundane as a car.

He waits, muscles tensed and braced as the car roars towards him and in the very last moment... He leaps up, feet neatly meeting the hood (and leaving a nasty indentation in their wake) to run up and over the top to bounce off the tail end. He lands gingerly behind, saunters around a few paces in a bit of a daze of 'did I really just do that' as he watches the car speed off over his shoulder. It hasn't all hit him quite yet, but he has enough of a sense of 'holy shit' to know something astounding has just happened.

For perhaps the first time, Tony wasn't ruled by his demon, he's embraced its strengths and used them without losing control. It isn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it's a huge step.

But for now he's just going to focus on making sure Cesar isn't coming back for a round two, before he slips back into the building to collect what he can of any evidence that might point to just what in the hell all of that was about.

Yeah he's gonna get an ear full later and honestly? He doesn't even give a shit.

The car does an (extremely) hasty turn onto the street, and then roars onward and out of sight. The doppelganger can't quite believe what he just saw either, but he'll decide later that killing someone would've brought all hell down onto the life of one Cesar Sanches-Ortiz, and that he'd only ever meant to scare the hell out of the kid in the first place. Mission totally as planned?

Totally as planned.

The abandoned store will have a few clues. There's a dropped crucifix near where Tony had originally been knocked over, along with the paper sign Cesar had waved. The sign has writing on the back in pencil, full of Christian bible quotes and a carefully sounded-out exorcism.

Tony will never ride in a car with you Cesar, ever. Not after seeing the way you drive, talk about reckless. And you know, the whole threatening and pouring holy water on him thing, not cool. Really not cool.

He needs to head home, fuel up, get a shower, and rest. Adrenaline and rage can only carry a person so far, and it had definitely done its job in this situation. But first, some answers, and since Cesar obviously isn't going to be forthcoming after this Tony will have to take matters into his own hands. It's a good thing they aren't entirely incapable.

The note and crucifix are collected, and Tony takes a little more time to investigate the substance used to cause him such pain. No scent, and the bucket that contained it and the floor where it was spilled show no signs of damage. In fact it appears to be nothing more than simple water. Coupled with the crucifix, and what is obviously some kind of exorcism rite, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what it was: Holy water. Of course.

That filthy bastard. Now, how could Cesar have discovered what... L. L told him. There is no other explanation. He frowns at the letter, tempted to crumble it up and throw it away but no... it might be necessary later. Someone has some explaining to do.

Time to get home and figure out what to do about all of this. This isn't over by a long shot.

Tony hadn't said a word when he returned home, in fact he very nearly raced to jump in the shower. All he wanted was to get out of his soggy clothes and try to rid himself of any remaining traces of holy water. In his rush he'd left Cesar's crumpled note and crucifix on the counter, didn't want to lose them and he wasn't planning on hiding anything from Richard anyway.

Once finished with his shower he makes his way to go collapse on the couch. Exhausted, his skin still crawls and tingles but the pain has mostly faded. He does have some nice bruising under his eye and around his nose, remnants from Cesar breaking it. Funny, at the time he hadn't even noticed.

What a week. Tony's just going to hide from everything now.

The way Tony comes running straight through is bound to attract attention, but a cursory check for bloodstains on the floor turns up nothing and dulls any immediate concern. Hearing the shower running a few moments later tells him that the kid hasn't collapsed, so he's happy enough to wait and quietly examine the crucifix and note left on the counter.

His eyes follow the young man in silence when he walks back in, one eyebrow raised and lips faintly pursed.

"So," he says, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "What's the story?"

It's no surprise Richard's been drawn in by the commotion, but even if he hadn't Tony would have been content to play dead for an hour or so while he waited for his skin to stop twitching. It hadn't, but at least he was fairly certain it wasn't going to come peeling off any time soon.

"Shit," He grumbled, wedging himself into a little ball in the corner of the couch. "Unless it's you or Shou, I'm not helping anyone anymore. Screw that," Okay that wasn't much of an answer and he knew it, but he was still fighting with a lot of frustration and conflicting emotions. Give him a few to sort through things. "You found the note right?"

"Yeah, I found the note."

Richard pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and sat down by the teenager, mostly distracting himself in the way he put it around him. He frowned, clasping both hands together.

"You wanna give me some more info, or do I need to guess?"

He was shivering, though it was more out of a persistent discomfort and dull burning than actually being cold. Sill, the gesture was appreciated. Yes this is definitely the right Richard, he couldn't imagine a copy pulling off his protective nature so well.

"Cesar, or his copy I don't even know anymore there's too many to keep track of, decided it was time to play exorcise the demon. Hell if I know the reason, something to do with L. Last I checked I hadn't done a damned thing to him."

Oh, wait, but his own doppelganger... "Unless we've got a case of mistaken identity." That could be it, but that doesn't mean he's going to be feeling any more forgiving about it. Bucket of holy water is enough to end any sense of empathy from him right now.

Exorcise the--

"Oh, hell no." Suddenly, Tony's immediate jumping into the shower made complete sense. If someone had thrown what amounted to acid at Richard, he'd want to get it off himself as well. He was mentally checking over the young man for injuries - despite being well aware of his healing abilities - while he continued speaking, a frown drawing a furrow between his eyebrows.

"Better be mistaken identity," he muttered distractedly. "'Cause if it isn't, some asses are gonna get fuckin' defenestrated."

Yes, exactly, Richard got it in one. Tony offers a tired but appreciative smile, he can't help but be a little delighted any time someone's so quick to jump to his defense. It's a weird feeling, this support thing.

"You're telling me. Guy's not gonna be happy about what I did to his car though."

Oops. Well, actually, not oops, Tony doesn't feel bad about that at all. Someone cornered and trapped him, dumped a bucket of holy water on his head, and threatened him over something he didn't even do. Frankly he's lucky the car was the only thing that got trashed.

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A No Good Very Bad Week

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Later at home for Richard

o/

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