Post by Deleted on May 25, 2012 20:30:24 GMT -5
In a dark alleyway deep in the wretched regions of Gotham City, the prey scrambled to a halt and whirled around, eyes wide and breathing in sharp, ragged gasps as he took only a half dozen steps the way he had come. The sound of a car horn made him jump noticeably, and he didn't try to move after that, entire body hunched as if bracing himself for a coming storm.
Crouched on a ledge high above the frightened prey, the hunter watched.
Of course Rick had ran, they always ran, even when the only guarantee such an action offered was to prologue their final judgment. Now he had managed to somehow work himself into a blind corner, an alley with no exit, and though all he had to do was go back the way he came, blind fear kept the dealer rooted in place, watching the sliver of street and clearly expecting the vigilante to step into sight at any moment. Like a child unable to leave his bedroom because he feared passing the Boogeyman-infested closet next to his door...
If only every night was this easy. Snorting, Vic shook his head and considered his approach carefully, eyes flitting from one end of the alley to the other. That this might be a trap had crossed his mind, but try as he might he couldn't see any signs of ambush or hidden gunmen... as hard as it was to believe, this poor little dealer was just very stupid. A shame, since he had been planning to rely on the little man for information... one could only hope he had been able to follow basic instructions.
If Sage was going to get any further tonight, he would need to get a name.
If this dealer hoped to make it through the night in one peace, he would need to give one.
Stifling a sigh, Sage planned his descent to street level, muscles tensing as he prepared himself for another wretched conflict.
"Well." The wry voice behind the dealer had Rick freezing in place, eyes widening as his entire body seemed to give one great twitch. "You ran very, very fast trying to get away from me. Flattering. I should be thrilled."
As Rick turned, already beginning to tremble just a little, a tall figure clad in a suit, hat and trench coat stepped from the shadows, coming into what little light filtered in from the streets. At first, one might have thought his face concealed by the shadows beneath the brim of his hat, but as the darkness cleared, the truth was revealed; he had no face.
"Somehow, though," the Question finished flatly, "I'm not."
"C'mon, man," Rick mumbled, glancing away as he backed up slowly, scratching his arms restlessly. "I'm sorry about it, I am, but... you dunno what you're asking me!"
"Hmm, I don't...?" shaking his head, the Question approached slowly, hands in his jacket pockets, looking perfectly relaxed as he closed the distance between them slowly, gradually. "I'm disappointed. I thought we had a deal, the two of us. You stop peddling your trash on the street corners and find me your supplier, and I don't turn you in to the cops. A golden opportunity to duck out of a lot of jail time. Now I find out you're trying to hide from me... you shouldn't have. For your sake."
"L-look, doesn't matter what you t-try," Rick replied, trying to inject some firmness into his voice and failing utterly. "Whatever you do to me, they'll do w-worse!"
"Let's test that theory." All at once the faceless man's steps became quicker, bolder, as he all but charged the peddler.
Panicking, Rick swung, a fair hay maker that might have caught an average man flat-foot and flat-nosed. For his attacker, however, he might as well have tried to tickle in his own defense, and almost too quick for the eye to track, the Question's arm snapped up and to the side, all but brushing aside the offending arm. Leather gloved fingers closed around the peddler's wrist, and before Rick even realized his assailant had vanished, the Question was behind him, free hand pressing between the man's wiry shoulder blades as he forced the dealer's arm behind his back. Rick gave a strangled gasp and tried to pull away, but a jolt of pain in his shoulder convinced him that it might be wiser to keep still
"Do you know how many bones are in the human arm?" The Question asked silkily and began to slowly, inexorably bend Rick's wrist backwards, feeling the tendons and bones straining to near breaking. "Neither do I. Let's start counting."
Rick squealed, "I don't Know! God Don't Do it please!"
The pressure increased just a fraction as Rick continued to babble that it was all he could offer, that he knew nothing else, that he didn't want to get involved in this anymore, please oh please just let him go. Finally, though, the pain vanished as the gloved hand suddenly released him, an almost casual shove sending Rick tumbling to the pavement. As the peddler cradled his arm, whimpering, the trench-coat-clad vigilante stepped right over and past him, dusting off his hands and sparing not so much as a glance towards his unwilling informant.
"Run" the Question muttered, hands sliding into his pockets as he began to move deeper into the alleyway, towards the same fire escape he had used to flank the drug peddler in the first place. "The cops are waiting for you in your home."
"What-" Rick's confusion turned to agitation as he took a half step forward. "But you told me-!"
"I lied. Mostly." Hopping up, he caught the bottom rung of the fire escape's ladder and lifted himself up with one arm, climbing to the lowest platform before turning his attention back to the peddler.
He was watching from his slightly hanging position as the little fish ran out the alley like a frightened rabbit or some animal equivalent.
"Let the little fish go an they always lead you to the Big fish"
Crouched on a ledge high above the frightened prey, the hunter watched.
Of course Rick had ran, they always ran, even when the only guarantee such an action offered was to prologue their final judgment. Now he had managed to somehow work himself into a blind corner, an alley with no exit, and though all he had to do was go back the way he came, blind fear kept the dealer rooted in place, watching the sliver of street and clearly expecting the vigilante to step into sight at any moment. Like a child unable to leave his bedroom because he feared passing the Boogeyman-infested closet next to his door...
If only every night was this easy. Snorting, Vic shook his head and considered his approach carefully, eyes flitting from one end of the alley to the other. That this might be a trap had crossed his mind, but try as he might he couldn't see any signs of ambush or hidden gunmen... as hard as it was to believe, this poor little dealer was just very stupid. A shame, since he had been planning to rely on the little man for information... one could only hope he had been able to follow basic instructions.
If Sage was going to get any further tonight, he would need to get a name.
If this dealer hoped to make it through the night in one peace, he would need to give one.
Stifling a sigh, Sage planned his descent to street level, muscles tensing as he prepared himself for another wretched conflict.
"Well." The wry voice behind the dealer had Rick freezing in place, eyes widening as his entire body seemed to give one great twitch. "You ran very, very fast trying to get away from me. Flattering. I should be thrilled."
As Rick turned, already beginning to tremble just a little, a tall figure clad in a suit, hat and trench coat stepped from the shadows, coming into what little light filtered in from the streets. At first, one might have thought his face concealed by the shadows beneath the brim of his hat, but as the darkness cleared, the truth was revealed; he had no face.
"Somehow, though," the Question finished flatly, "I'm not."
"C'mon, man," Rick mumbled, glancing away as he backed up slowly, scratching his arms restlessly. "I'm sorry about it, I am, but... you dunno what you're asking me!"
"Hmm, I don't...?" shaking his head, the Question approached slowly, hands in his jacket pockets, looking perfectly relaxed as he closed the distance between them slowly, gradually. "I'm disappointed. I thought we had a deal, the two of us. You stop peddling your trash on the street corners and find me your supplier, and I don't turn you in to the cops. A golden opportunity to duck out of a lot of jail time. Now I find out you're trying to hide from me... you shouldn't have. For your sake."
"L-look, doesn't matter what you t-try," Rick replied, trying to inject some firmness into his voice and failing utterly. "Whatever you do to me, they'll do w-worse!"
"Let's test that theory." All at once the faceless man's steps became quicker, bolder, as he all but charged the peddler.
Panicking, Rick swung, a fair hay maker that might have caught an average man flat-foot and flat-nosed. For his attacker, however, he might as well have tried to tickle in his own defense, and almost too quick for the eye to track, the Question's arm snapped up and to the side, all but brushing aside the offending arm. Leather gloved fingers closed around the peddler's wrist, and before Rick even realized his assailant had vanished, the Question was behind him, free hand pressing between the man's wiry shoulder blades as he forced the dealer's arm behind his back. Rick gave a strangled gasp and tried to pull away, but a jolt of pain in his shoulder convinced him that it might be wiser to keep still
"Do you know how many bones are in the human arm?" The Question asked silkily and began to slowly, inexorably bend Rick's wrist backwards, feeling the tendons and bones straining to near breaking. "Neither do I. Let's start counting."
Rick squealed, "I don't Know! God Don't Do it please!"
The pressure increased just a fraction as Rick continued to babble that it was all he could offer, that he knew nothing else, that he didn't want to get involved in this anymore, please oh please just let him go. Finally, though, the pain vanished as the gloved hand suddenly released him, an almost casual shove sending Rick tumbling to the pavement. As the peddler cradled his arm, whimpering, the trench-coat-clad vigilante stepped right over and past him, dusting off his hands and sparing not so much as a glance towards his unwilling informant.
"Run" the Question muttered, hands sliding into his pockets as he began to move deeper into the alleyway, towards the same fire escape he had used to flank the drug peddler in the first place. "The cops are waiting for you in your home."
"What-" Rick's confusion turned to agitation as he took a half step forward. "But you told me-!"
"I lied. Mostly." Hopping up, he caught the bottom rung of the fire escape's ladder and lifted himself up with one arm, climbing to the lowest platform before turning his attention back to the peddler.
He was watching from his slightly hanging position as the little fish ran out the alley like a frightened rabbit or some animal equivalent.
"Let the little fish go an they always lead you to the Big fish"