Disclaimer: I own very little within. What's with today, today?
Chapter time. Chapter-ness-ocity.
Hey, I need something straightened out. I read an article that said that The Killers and Fall Out Boy hate each other. Some Fall Out Boy fan clear this up for me! I'm a fan, but I just don't know about this one info tidbit.
"I beg your pardon!" The Baron looked at his younger Dandy messenger boy in disbelief. "Vulcan's dead! I say! Goodness!" The Baron adjusted his fedora and looked at nothing in particular for a minute. "Hmm…well, I was going to have him assassinated in a week or so anyway…he's a bit too much of a…loose cannon, I suppose."
Sorel turned to the Baron. "Who are you going to have take his place, sir?"
"I'm not sure…perhaps that soldier who can transform into a wolf..." He looked thoughtful, and then turned to Pete. "Unless, of course, you'd like to take his place."
"I'd never join you British freaks!" he replied angrily.
"'British freaks'?" Livington pretended to look hurt. "Was that really necessary?"
In response, Pete put his hand to his chin and pretended to think about it. "Uh…yeah."
"At least we have the sense to train our captive bats." Livington insulted. "Your pet bat was so wild he reminded me of you your friends."
"Who, my little bat friend? Simi? I assure you, he's normally friendly. He just doesn't like…you fedora-wearing dumb asses."
"That's enough, now Peter." Sorel shot his hand out and used a telekinetic blast to send Pete flying back into the wall. He hit it with a loud thud and slid to the ground.
"Ow! And you say my friends and I are the jackasses. You can't just go around throwing people into walls, you know!" With this, Pete jumped to his feet and charged Sorel. Right before he made impact with the lieutenant, Sorel made a telekinetic shield, which Pete slammed into headfirst. He fell backwards and rubbed the front of his head. "Dammit! How much can you do with that power?"
"Regardless!" The Baron stepped in between Sorel and Pete and signaled to Sorel to step back, who obeyed. "Peter, I want to explain to you my offer of your becoming an officer of mine."
Pete interrupted him. "I noticed all of your special little lieutenants have special little powers. What's mine?"
"Nothing yet, I suppose, except for your agility and strength in fighting. I could teach you how to do some of the abilities I have gained over the many years…" The Baron took off one of his gloves. "Including this." The Baron put his hand on the wall. A slight sizzling noise was heard throughout the small room, and within ten seconds a hand-shaped hole burnt clean through the wall. The Baron reached for the glove he put down on the coffin, but stopped and looked again at the hole. "Livington, put a painting up there. The hole is rather ugly."
"Will do, sir," he responded.
Pete just looked at the hole. Then he looked at the clothes that he noticed were on the coffin, the Dandy uniform. He stood up and went over to the clothes, picked them up and promptly ripped them at the seams, the fedora, jacket, and pants. "There's no way I am ever wearing those clothes. There is no way I'm ever joining forces with you!"
The Baron cocked his head to the left and sighed, shaking his head. "Why do you have to be so rude, my boy?" He turned around and began strolling nonchalantly out the door. "I'm going to leave you alone for a little bit now. I will be back later, though, don't worry."
"Don't worry, he says…" Pete mumbled to himself. The he looked at The Baron. "Any idea when I might make it out of this place?"
"I doubt you will. I would think your only hopes of direct escape is your troublemaking friends, and don't raise high expectations of them getting through my security." And with that, The Baron left Pete alone with the two lieutenants his angry thoughts.
A distant explosion was heard, causing the room to vibrate slightly. "Was that your 'friends' again, Peter?" Livington asked with a sneer, hanging a colorful oil painting on the wall over The Baron's handprint.
"Those hooligans must be stronger than we thought if they killed Vulcan without Peter," Sorel inferred, reading a magazine. "I can't believe that guard was reading this. It's hideous," he griped, leaning forward to get a better look.
"Don't call me Peter!" Pete yelled. He jumped at Sorel, who telekinetically flipped the coffin upright. Pete's fist went through the coffin door and became stuck.
"You're a really slow learner, aren't you?" Sorel laughed, his eyes never leaving the magazine.
Livington laughed. "I'm kind of glad he refused to be our equal. Look, poor Peter's fist is stuck." Peter had both of his feet on the coffin, and was trying to pull himself free. Another blast shook the building, closer now. "Your 'friends' do like the loud explosions, don't they? They're like juvenile delinquents with cherry bombs and toilets."
"Shut UP!" Peter finally managed to pull the whole door off of the coffin, and swung it into Livington's skull. Livington slumped to the floor, and Sorel finally looked up from his magazine.
"Was that really necessary?"
Ahahaha, yes Sorel, it was. Next chapter: Sorel and Pete collide! And it doesn't look like Pete has the upper hand either!
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