ArchivedLogs:Recruit THIS

Recruit THIS
Dramatis Personae Toru, Joe
In Absentia	2013-11-29 '
Location <NYC> 311 {Trib} - Sunrise Apartments - Clinton
It's been quiet all day, but a couple hours after Trib left, there are footsteps in the hall outside Trib and Toru's apartment. Taptaptap comes the knocking at the door. It's soft enough to be subtle, but assertive enough to be heard. Through the peephole, once again, Joe is standing in the hall, hands up, his own gun dangling from his thumb through the trigger guard. he waits patiently in the hall, eyes on the door. There is some scraping from inside the apartment, the sound of someone dragging their feet as they walk around. It's loud enough to sound deliberately noticeable, and while there is no verbal response for a moment, eventually the peephole darkens and the sound of Toru's voice on the other side of the door grumbles, "The fuck do you want?" "I wanna talk shop. And I got some cash your boyfriend wouldn't take. Figured you could put it to use." Joe clears his throat and shifts, glancing both ways down the hallway, but otherwise his whole manner seems different. Relaxed, calm, confident. There is a silent pause on Toru's side, the teen weighing his words before replying, "I dunno who the hell you're talkin' about. You got the right apartment?" Joe sighs and shrugs. "Seriously, man? Retribution 'Hero for Hire' Jones /ain't/ your boyfriend?" Joe holsters his pistol in a shoulder holster and fishes a roll of cash out of his jacket pocket, held together with a red rubberband. "We can just talk about this instead, if you want?" Joe /might/ be able to hear an exasperated sigh from Toru, the teen's face twisting into an expression that, could Joe see it, is some combination of irritated and flummoxed. "Just a minute," he finally grumbles, and after some more noise inside the apartment he returns to the door, keeping the chain on as he opens it, holding his hand through. "Gun." Joe nods and pockets the money again when Toru asks for the gun. He draws it, ejects the magazine, and hands the gun to Toru before pocketing the magazine. When he takes the gun, Toru checks the chamber for a bullet before closing it again, then gives Joe a somewhat incredulous look. Still, he closes the door so that the chain can be unfastened, opening the door again and moving to let Joe step inside. Though once the man does, the teen is quick to note, his tone a bit colder, "I asked for the goddamn /gun/, if I wanted a piece of scrap metal I'd've asked for just the /clip/." His empty hand is extended, fingers beckoning. "Hand it over." Joe pulls his mouth into half a frown and holds his hands out to his side. "Look man, you wanna shoot me, use your own. I just don't wanna get shot by my own gun, ok? I don't hand a loaded gun to anyone I don't know, you know?" Joe actually manages a haphazard smile, and another shrug. "I come in peace. Just wanna talk shop." Toru returns that frown, though /he/ seems more annoyed than Joe somehow. "So you ain't a total dumbass. That's kinda disappointin'." Nonetheless, he finally closes the door behind Joe, locking it even, and gestures to the armchair. "Sit down. Take your damn shoes off." The teen slumps into the less cushy of the two couches, dressed less-than-intimidatingly in jeans and a Taco Night t-shirt, and plays with the gun a bit until Joe sits. Aiming it at various things, jerking his arm up as if having fired, the usual. "The hell you want, anyway." Joe nods and steps inside, just giving a shrug at Toru's assessment. "I try to avoid being a dumbass. It's why I always pay up." Joe steps inside, pries his loafers off with the alternating foot to reveal plain black socks. He's also wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black blazer. He reaches into his blazer pocket again - the left pocket this time. The magazine went into the right. He holds up the roll of cash, tosses it to Toru, and sits in the designated chair. "That's five grand. Your man didn't wanna take it, but you seem a little more reasonable. Don't even hafta tell him if you don't want. I sure as hell won't say anything. But mainly, I thought you'd be interested in making some more." Joe sits back in the chair, surprisingly comfortable and self-possessed considering the last time they met. The gun is set in his lap as Toru catches the roll of cash, managing to appear /mostly/ outwardly calm, though Joe will probably pick up on telltale subconscious signals of shock. Still, he holds back any obvious signs of freak-outitude, setting the cash oh-so-casually back in his lap and swallowing a heavy gulp. Clearing his throat, he then notes, "How about you stop calling him my 'man', that sounds fuckin' creepy as shit." A hand comes up to run through his hair, the gun lifted again and, the way he holds his hand, ~casually~ pointed towards Joe, though to Toru's credit he does exercise trigger discipline. "Before you go tryin' to hire me, I ain't some Thai rentboy if that's whatever fuckin' idea you got in your head." "Hey, sorry, no problem man," Joe says, happily watching Toru's pupils dilate at the roll of cash. "And no, that's not what I'm looking for. Hey - that reminds me. What do I call you? My name's Joe. Can't remember if that came up before." Toru considers the question for a moment, then finally replies, "How about Trevor, that seems good enough." If nothing else he's at least practically admitting it's a fake name. "Okay, 'Joe'," the air-quotes are audible; apparently he doesn't believe /that's/ a real name either. "What cna I do you for?" Joe studies Toru's face for a moment, and then sits up in the chair, clearing his throat, clearly a preparation to perform. He speaks calmly, and quickly, "A Japanese guy who likes to make people feel awkward when they guess wrong. Your real first name /probably/ starts with 'T' but definitely has an 'R' in it. I'd do my guessing trick, but I'm shit with Japanese names, so yeah." Joe blinks and looks up, not even stopping to ask if he was close. "But 'Trevor' is fine, man, whatever you want. 'Joe' is actually my first name, because I'm a shit liar. I'd just get confused and fuck it up." Joe grins and shrugs. "But I wanna hire you because of what I saw when I first saw you. Saw in the first fucking /seconds/. You're fucking dangerous, Trevor, and I like that. I'm obviously not dangerous, but I /am/ good at making money. I made this offer to Trib already, but he didn't like it, because I do business with a guy called Fisk, and he doesn't like guys called Fisk I guess. Fisk likes doing business with me, and even gave me a couple bodyguards, but I don't like Fisk's bodyguards. I want my own, because Fisk's people are fucking retards. I don't know what makes you dangerous, Trevor, but I can see it. I see it in your eyes. The way you move. And you're smart. I need that. And I can pay." Joe speaks in manner close to his street patter, but carefully modulated to not sound rushed, or rehearsed, even though he worked on it all morning. By the end, he's leaning forward, elbows on knees, making every effort to engage Toru. As Joe speaks, Toru looks more and more incredulous, and by the time he gets to the end of his explanation, the teen is sitting with the side of his head resting against the end of the gun's barrel, holding it as if he's going to just shoot himself right there. But when the older man finishes, Toru just lets out a long sigh, shaking his head a few times. "First off, I take back what I said, 'Trevor' either sounds fucking retarded or you just say it too many times, I don't even know what." He shakes his head again, sets the gun down once more, and leans back in the couch, legs spread, arms crossed. "Secondly, the only thing goddamn impressive about you is the fact that a white guy can apparently tell the difference between Japanese and Korean people. Way I see it," and here he leans forward, arms resting on his knees, mimicking Joe's posture, "is you've been stealin' your girlfriend's Cosmos and readin' those 'how to catch a guy' articles, 'cause you are courtin' me pretty fuckin' hardcore. Next you're gonna brush my hair behind my goddamn ear, right? Christ." Leaning back again, Toru taps the gun on the inside of his knee, letting out a long sigh. "If you're as smart as you think you are you'd know I'm fuckin' lazy and no amounta skrilla's enough to get my ass killed for some guy I ain't even sleepin' with. And that /ain't/ an invite." "Yeah, no, I saw the lazy. Just wasn't sure how deep that went." Joe sits back and lets out a big breath, openly disappointed. "Yeah I'm courting you, man. I assume you're in high demand. Well, I hope whoever's got you knows what they got. The offer stands. You know where to find me." Joe makes to get up, but then relaxes again. "Can you tell me though? What is? You like... shoot lasers out your ass or something? You're no pro with that thing. I'm just curious, that's all. You could kill me before I get to the door, I can just... feel it." Joe makes no effort to hide his open curiosity. "Yeah, lasers out my ass," Toru replies, deadpan, as he lifts his arm to aim the gun at Joe, one eye closed, the other squinting down the barrel. Finger off the trigger! It's obviously a pose taken out of a movie rather than any kind of real-world experience, though. "And fried rice out my eyes. BA-KOW!" As he shouts that last part, he jerks his arm up, again pretending to have fired the gun. "I'm William goddamn Wallace. Get outta my house." Notably, he does not offer to /return/ the gun. Joe smirks and shakes his head. "Yeah man, I'm gone." Joe's up and slipping his shoes on, asking over his shoulder, "Can I have my piece back?" Toru quirks an eyebrow, shrugging, and stretches his arms along the back of the sofa. Still holding the gun. "Maybe. I'll think about it." Here, he points his empty hand at Joe, in finger-gun, then smirks, clicking his tongue. "I decide I don't want it, I know where to find you." "Sure, ok," Joe says. At the door, he reaches into his pocket and tosses Toru the magazine he had ejected. Then in one smooth motion, he pulls the pistol he had tucked into the back of his waistband, and tucks it into the shoulder holster to replace Toru's souvenir. "Stay safe, man." And Joe is out the door.