Post by Jordanna on Nov 9, 2006 22:56:36 GMT -5
It took more than his chameleon physical gift for Proteus to pass himself off as Joey Falco. It also took his long lifetime of practice at playacting, and a little bit of luck in avoiding mutants with a heightened sense of smell, such as the Ferret. He even had to take care to be seen only in the light, because his eyes exhibited a faint white glow in darkness, no matter what his form.
Fortunately, those elements of skill and luck and caution had all come together successfully--at least so far--in the three days he had spent infiltrating Tiernan Enterprises. The first few hours were the most anxious, waiting to see if some flaw in his appearance or mannerisms would give him away, or if he would bump into a mutant he hadn't been warned of who could see through his guise. But he hadn't, and now he felt confident that he was accepted without a doubt as Tiernan's teenaged errand boy.
On the down side, the job was proving to be very boring. He had to absent himself from the office entirely when Joey was expected to be working with Detective Dawson, and took this time to return to Spooktown in his own person and see to affairs there. When he was around Tiernan Enterprises, he found that he was asked to do nothing more exciting than carry messages or go shopping for the various items Tiernan took a whim to have. He had seen Tiernan personally only a few times. He was instinctively repelled by the palpable soul-darkness of the man--but Nocturne was hardly the first person to arouse that reaction in the perceptive old metamorph.
His nights were spent in Joey's room within the Bunker, and this became the time he was most wary of. When at rest, it was necessary for him to revert to his natural form--a form that no other living eyes, in fact, had ever seen. With no lock on the door, he feared one of Tiernan's uncouth followers might enter unexpectedly to roust "Joey" out of bed for some reason. He took what precautions he could, and once again, remained lucky.
On the fourth morning, Proteus finally noticed something worthy of his interest.
At the time, he was breakfasting in the solarium with Nocturne's inner cadre--Taniwha, the Ferret, Cinders, and Poison. Tiernan sometimes joined them there for meals, but he just as often called down and asked for a tray to be carried to his office. When he did so on this particular morning, Proteus volunteered to take it up. He didn't enjoy being in Tiernan's presence, but to do so was clearly his only hope of learning anything important.
Bearing a tray laden with perfectly prosaic eggs, bacon, and milk, Proteus made his way up to Nocturne's private sanctum. He found Tiernan at the Steinway, halfway lost in a rather jarring piano concerto. (Proteus' own tastes had rather run to blues since he'd spent one of his many varied lives in New Orleans, where the riverboats were for a time his last grasp at the simple nautical life he loved.)
"You can put it on the desk," said Tiernan, without looking up from his music sheet.
Proteus obeyed, carrying the tray to the desk, where he set it down. As he feigned arranging the silverware, he took the opportunity to look the desk over. Tiernan's computer was turned off, but a newspaper and a few other documents were laying on it.
The folded newspaper had been opened to the calendar section, exposing a small item about a gem exhibit that was on temporary display at the Newland Art Gallery. There was a color photograph of the exhibit's centerpiece, an enormous ruby set in a pearl-and-diamond bracelet. Beside the newspaper lay a glossy brochure from the gallery itself, touting the exhibit--and a printout of a detailed building plan that would most certainly not have been available to the public.
Proteus blinked and picked up the brochure, gazing at it with a perfect rendition of Joey Falco's wondering naivete. "Wow. That's an awfully nice piece of stone."
Nocturne paused in his playing and glanced up, with a distant look in his dark eyes. "Yes... isn't it, though." He abruptly stood up and stepped away from the piano. "That's all, Joey. You may go."
With a small nod, Proteus retreated from the office. Once he had shut the door behind him, he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.
It was well known in Spooktown that Tiernan had an eye for large and exotic gemstones, and a habit of acquiring them illicitly--more than once he had enlisted Spooks for his heists. Now it looked as if the bat had set his sights on a new bauble. It was impossible to guess when he intended to strike during the week the exhibit was to run, but he certainly would. Such a target would be irresistible to his avarice.
Leaning back against the wall of the elevator as it descended, Proteus mulled over the one question important to him: whether to tell Dawson and Vance of this little plot. They would doubtless take an interest in foiling it, if only for the satisfaction of frustrating Nocturne--but what mattered to him was whether anyone would be harmed in the process, even unintentionally.
At last he decided that he would inform them, but only after securing their vow that they would ensure there would be no casualties on either side. He was sure Dawson and Vance were both people of their word.
The elevator bell chimed, and Proteus stepped out, feeling quietly pleased.
Fortunately, those elements of skill and luck and caution had all come together successfully--at least so far--in the three days he had spent infiltrating Tiernan Enterprises. The first few hours were the most anxious, waiting to see if some flaw in his appearance or mannerisms would give him away, or if he would bump into a mutant he hadn't been warned of who could see through his guise. But he hadn't, and now he felt confident that he was accepted without a doubt as Tiernan's teenaged errand boy.
On the down side, the job was proving to be very boring. He had to absent himself from the office entirely when Joey was expected to be working with Detective Dawson, and took this time to return to Spooktown in his own person and see to affairs there. When he was around Tiernan Enterprises, he found that he was asked to do nothing more exciting than carry messages or go shopping for the various items Tiernan took a whim to have. He had seen Tiernan personally only a few times. He was instinctively repelled by the palpable soul-darkness of the man--but Nocturne was hardly the first person to arouse that reaction in the perceptive old metamorph.
His nights were spent in Joey's room within the Bunker, and this became the time he was most wary of. When at rest, it was necessary for him to revert to his natural form--a form that no other living eyes, in fact, had ever seen. With no lock on the door, he feared one of Tiernan's uncouth followers might enter unexpectedly to roust "Joey" out of bed for some reason. He took what precautions he could, and once again, remained lucky.
On the fourth morning, Proteus finally noticed something worthy of his interest.
At the time, he was breakfasting in the solarium with Nocturne's inner cadre--Taniwha, the Ferret, Cinders, and Poison. Tiernan sometimes joined them there for meals, but he just as often called down and asked for a tray to be carried to his office. When he did so on this particular morning, Proteus volunteered to take it up. He didn't enjoy being in Tiernan's presence, but to do so was clearly his only hope of learning anything important.
Bearing a tray laden with perfectly prosaic eggs, bacon, and milk, Proteus made his way up to Nocturne's private sanctum. He found Tiernan at the Steinway, halfway lost in a rather jarring piano concerto. (Proteus' own tastes had rather run to blues since he'd spent one of his many varied lives in New Orleans, where the riverboats were for a time his last grasp at the simple nautical life he loved.)
"You can put it on the desk," said Tiernan, without looking up from his music sheet.
Proteus obeyed, carrying the tray to the desk, where he set it down. As he feigned arranging the silverware, he took the opportunity to look the desk over. Tiernan's computer was turned off, but a newspaper and a few other documents were laying on it.
The folded newspaper had been opened to the calendar section, exposing a small item about a gem exhibit that was on temporary display at the Newland Art Gallery. There was a color photograph of the exhibit's centerpiece, an enormous ruby set in a pearl-and-diamond bracelet. Beside the newspaper lay a glossy brochure from the gallery itself, touting the exhibit--and a printout of a detailed building plan that would most certainly not have been available to the public.
Proteus blinked and picked up the brochure, gazing at it with a perfect rendition of Joey Falco's wondering naivete. "Wow. That's an awfully nice piece of stone."
Nocturne paused in his playing and glanced up, with a distant look in his dark eyes. "Yes... isn't it, though." He abruptly stood up and stepped away from the piano. "That's all, Joey. You may go."
With a small nod, Proteus retreated from the office. Once he had shut the door behind him, he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.
It was well known in Spooktown that Tiernan had an eye for large and exotic gemstones, and a habit of acquiring them illicitly--more than once he had enlisted Spooks for his heists. Now it looked as if the bat had set his sights on a new bauble. It was impossible to guess when he intended to strike during the week the exhibit was to run, but he certainly would. Such a target would be irresistible to his avarice.
Leaning back against the wall of the elevator as it descended, Proteus mulled over the one question important to him: whether to tell Dawson and Vance of this little plot. They would doubtless take an interest in foiling it, if only for the satisfaction of frustrating Nocturne--but what mattered to him was whether anyone would be harmed in the process, even unintentionally.
At last he decided that he would inform them, but only after securing their vow that they would ensure there would be no casualties on either side. He was sure Dawson and Vance were both people of their word.
The elevator bell chimed, and Proteus stepped out, feeling quietly pleased.