Anger Management


logan_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif

Scene Title Anger Management
Synopsis Magnes comes looking for a way to vent his anger, and Logan gives him a direction.
Date February 6, 2009

Outside Burlesque

Later in the morning, Magnes' head is pretty clear. Don't screw up and beat people in public, don't time travel and change history, seems simple enough. But he still has anger issues to work out, ones all the sexual crutches in the world won't solve.

He shows up in the back of Burlesque, black denim jacket buttoned up, with some blue jeans and black sneakers on. He knocks hard on the back door, like he's the police or something… well he used to be at least. "It's Magnes J. Varlane." he announces, as if expecting someone in there to know who he is, or tell the right people.

Behind Magnes, a parking lot stretches out, moderately empty save for one shining silver sports car furthest off from the road. Away from the frontside end of the strip club, late morning Brooklyn traffic sounds dulled, quiet enough that he could probably hear the approach of foot steps coming down the hallway towards the door. That never happens. What does happen is the sound of a fire exit squeaking open, no matter that this isn't an emergency. Above Magnes, where a metal staircase diagonals up the side of the strip club, Logan appears on the steel balcony, looking half-asleep and curiously irritated.

His hands grip onto the railing as he peers over the side, shivering once in the icy winter air, a crumpled black button down loose over slacks, and no other signs of affectation such as ties or suit jackets or waistcoats. His squinting analysis turns into a glare once name and face come back to him, and he suggests, "Turn around and walk away."

"I'm not here to kill you, I've learned that there are eviler things in the world than a British pimp." Magnes stares up at him, frowning with his arms crossed. It would be nice to just shoot this man between the eyes, but… "I need to know if you're doing anything like those cage fights, and if you are, how can I get into them? As long as you're not using kidnapped people, at least."

Despite the younger man's reassurances, tension's set in enough to make the line of Logan's arms and shoulders rigid from where hands are set against the railing. He looks as unarmed as he is, but this fact manages to stop bothering him for long enough to listen and then cast a series of bewildered blinks down at Magnes. "Why would I…?" It seems useless to ask, words drifting off as easy as dry leaves from a dead branch, and he just shakes his head. "The Pancratium was destroyed last year. The fightclubs were more Muldoon's concern, and he's off in fucking Russia or whatever. Why?" And his scowl manages to get interrupted by a smirk. "You miss it?"

"I don't miss it, I couldn't fight back then, I went through more pain than you could possibly imagine in that cage." And considering Magnes' obviously blind left eye, he's gone through a lot more since then. His frown softens into a more casual expression, trying to keep himself calm enough to at least try not to sound like he wants to kill the man. "But, I've gone through a lot of crap, I'm dealing with stuff in my life, and I'm just pissed all the time. I don't wanna blow up and punch someone in the face for looking at me the wrong way. I need an outlet, and you're all I could think of."

Fingers prying off the chilly railing, Logan leans his elbows against it instead, peering down at Magnes with all the imperial curiousity of a house cat, pale eyes almost grey in the lifeless morning light. "Well that's disconcerting," he comments, affected concern in his voice. "And I'm loathe to say that I can't do anything for you other than point you in the direction of Staten Island and see what happens." He brings up a hand to scratch his jaw, as if weighing up whether he wants to not have an answer for the young man, before—

Bright eyes light up a little with an epiphany. "Actually, I do know of one outlet that you might appreciate. That is, if you're very concerned about people kidnapped against their will and everything."

"And what's that?" Magnes asks, flying up slightly before quickly lowering himself back to the ground. Remembering Logan's ability, well, makes one not want to be high in the air around him. "I have an open mind, but no Refrain, if that's what you're thinking. I was a cop for a while, if you watched the news, I know what that stuff can do."

There's a raised eyebrow when the gravitokinetic raises up off the ground a few feet, then drops back down again without explanation. Logan pauses, before that smirk finally eases into a more genuine smile, if not a particularly kind one. "Well it is Refrain, but it's not what you think. There's a facility where involuntary test subjects are being held, using the drug to do— I don't know, but what I do know is that they've been buying Refrain in bulk. There's going to be a raid to topple the place, and I suspect the heroes of this piece wouldn't mind a blunt instrument such as yourself. I could hire you on as a mercenary if you're interested."

Magnes looks to the ground, giving that some serious thought. Of course when he realizes he just let his guard down to John Logan, his head quickly raises back up to face the man. "I have two questions. Who will I be working with, and do you know anyone who can cure the blindness in my left eye? Also I want to know every bit of information you have on the people, the facility, and… Wait, why do you care about this? I mean…" He doesn't even have to say 'I thought you were evil' for it to be as clear as day in his tone.

"There's a girl with some investment in it. Kid sister of a colleague of mine. It would be bad for business if anything happened to her," Logan explains, voice cool and removed. The clouded over eye looking up at him had gone noticed, but now more so, a doubtful glance before he's focusing on the sound eye looking up at him. "Why? What do you know about what I care about? Nothing at all, that's what. And don't be foolish, I wouldn't send you in without intel, but I'm not giving you information until I know you're interested. I'm the one doing you a favour, remember?"

"Alright, I'm interested. This raid isn't today, right? I've got business in Cape Cod, parental abandonment business." Magnes shrugs, then pulls his iPhone from a zipped up jacket pocket, making a few notes. "I don't know anything about what you care about, but after last year, I think you can understand why my opinion would be a little sour, y'know? But I don't want it getting all over the city that you hired me, that's my only real request."

Logan takes his weight off the railing once Magnes confirms his interest, and then casts down an amused smile. "Mum's the word. And I don't think you should know what I care about, or anything about me — I only advise that you don't assume." He brings a hand down to pat at a pocket and finding it empty of cellphone, or even a wallet with helpful business cards. These things, a nice coat and his gun are all left in his office, and he doesn't seem inclined to invite the young man inside.

"No, it's not today — you take care of your," his long fingers waggle vaguely, "issues and contact me in the next few days. As for your eye— I might know someone. If you agree to destroy all the Refrain you find within the warehouse, as I know most will be focusing on the prisoners, then I'll point you in the right direction."

"I should be able to do that. I'll plan a bit." Magnes starts to ascend from the ground, having much more control over his ability than the year ago when they first met. "I'll see you later then, John Logan." The iPhone is slid back into the pocket, which quickly gets zipped back up, then woosh.

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