Work Text:
__/__/__90
The date of the report. Written off by P. Cruz
Some dialog was made incomprehensible, or scratched out in writing format. We combatted this by going back and writing in ourselves. The driver often speaks..irregular, anyhow.
Side comment: The company that cleaned his cab stated it stank of iron no matter how hard they rinsed it out. It wasn't a matter of cushions anymore– this was something like stale air. They'd used up all leftover spritzers, leaving Cruz temporarily out of business. The man did, however, recieve a spot in the newspaper distrubuted by a young blonde man. He seemed to know everything before even the victims could register it.
------------------------
He stood off to the edge of the road, clipboard in hand that acted as a drum on his lap, and a black pen soon to dry out after enough uses as the mallet. It was faintly windy that morning, somewhere between eight and nine, yet they sun showed no signs of ever appearing. Schools were in session, and schools were opened right as the bells chimed throughout the long corridors stretching out into the streets, tall brick buildings filled with people just as important as he was. Yet Reed stood with little patience, foot tap-a-tapping against the concrete while the man in front kept blab-a-blabbing, hands moving wildly and eyes full of pure fear. If this were something of actual importance, he would've cared more. Nothing was more important now than that criminal, but apparently he had 'two' to worry on. Delightful way to begin a Tuesday.
"I-I-I..I swear it, sir! I swear it! He is the same man! The very very same! You must believe me!"
Oh, Reed tried, his very darndest did he try to. But he couldn't. He wouldn't! "Sir, I believe this is something you should take up with at a station, not a sherrif on duty. I can't chase after a man who doesn't even live in this town anymore, can I?"
"W-Well no, but-"
"Then I won't. I can warn the town over's sherrif, but until you bring me a FULL description, not just 'bald and indecent', then maybe I'll put more thought into this claim. I suggest you best get on your way, now. I'm supervising the road for specifics. You didn't hurt anybody in the crash, thankfully, nor did you hurt yourself." He glanced up from his paper, eyeing the man with faint concern. "At least physically. You should be grateful nobody is filing charges against you, including us."
Cruz just sputtered out loud, sighing with dramatics only one would do if despair called for it, and the heart had to offer. "Against ME?! HE is the one that made me lose focus, not the other way around, never!" Good grief, did men like he give him more annoyance than that wax artist did. He seemed bothered by every little thing Reed said or did, the look of snark in his eyes enough to keep him on his toes the longer they prodded his musuem about his studies. It wasn't his fault he couldn't read French. "I'm aware, so purely aware, sir. Might I suggest an upcoming coffee shop? The brews there do wonders on stress. I go every morning at six. I'd recommend it without a second thought."
What he didn't expect, was for Cruz to lunge at him, arms yanking at his shoulders as if he were trying to rip off his uniform. He screamed something incomprehensible in another language, and was quickly shoved up against the wall on his front, hands tied behind his back but not in cuffs. He didn't need them when you had a firm enough grip. "I need you to calm down, Mr. Cruz. And I'm not the type to enjoy repeating myself. I've given you enough warnings, yet you still insist I catch this man. It's not, my, lane."
He mumbled something into the fence outside the city library, and was soon released with a minor ache in both wrists. "Now, I want you to go to that coffee place I said of. Name's Cocoa Bean's, has a miniature squid on the side. You enjoy sea food, sir?" There was another mumbling, followed by a shy nod. "Great. Go get yourself something nice, and come back here when you got your thoughts ogether. Sudden amnesia is no joke, you know. Dangerous, how these streets have been littered with mal lately."
------------------------
From the beginning, an argument between two unknown individuals. It started off little, but grew big, enough to land both men in a worse position than where they began.
------------------------
Backstage _________ Theater. Recorded from pre-positioned security cameras. The film was blocked by a strategically placed hat, almost to hide the men's own tricks. The true reason remains unstated, even as audio is full.
R: "Quite the crowd you stirred, Weisz! I still couldn't comprehend how quickly you escaped. It is almost like you phased right through it, haha!"
W: "Ahhh, ha, you flatter me, Roy. Sooner or later it'll be you up on that stage, anyhow. Might as well get used to truly being magicial."
SFX: The sound of buttons being undone, followed by a soft whump to the floor. Footsteps emerge from the position of the door shown only by the small corner of the camera, where light from the hallway faded as it shut, both men now fully inside the room.
W:"Though, I must say, it gets a little alarming how fearful the audience is every time. You'd think they'd grow bored with an act preformed four nights in a row, wouldn't you?"
SFX:The continous patter of shoes as W moved across the room, popping off a cap, and producing a small squeak against a whiteboard. When the writing ceased, the other man had taken glass from a shelf, placing it horizontal onto wood. They clicked perfectly, yet grinded from a loose fit. A humph of frustration.
W: "Roy?"
R: "Apologies, gah, this damn mirror won't work. It refuses to cooperate with me."
W: "Perhaps you're the one who refuses to cooperate with it."
SFX: W laughed, walking towards R and leaning his weight onto the wooden desk, creaking underneath his hands. A shoe knocked up against the floor as he heaved up to sit on it. The groan was immense.
R: "What are you doing? You'd have to pay for that. The money we make shouldn't be used on the theaters, especially not one as run-down as this. It pains me how they refuse any upgrades, except for the stage."
SFX: A snort, a short silence, and both men laughed.
R: "You're mad. Don't blame me when you wake up with a thick stack in your box. And it won't be currencies, Weisz."
SFX: The tone of his voice is slightly mocking, as if such occured in the past, and both men laughed again, yet W much harder. Loose, and humorously crazed.
W: "I'm not mad, Roy. If I were, this whole room would be trashed. Same as the booths were from all the snacks thrown up in shock. I suppose I can entertain a cage once more, why not? Maybe even show you my tricks for the actual locks."
R: "Is that so? You were always so secretive of them even after we met. It's truly a shame you're leaving so soon.."
SFX: A soft, pained sigh slipped from R's lips, and the mirror adjusted into place at the same time it ended. A faltered sense of tranquility hit, and there were no more laughs. Only a mix of low and ragged breathing. Light clap of a hand on one's shoulder, table whining as the weight dropped back to the floor, shoes clamping together as fabric grew tight. A step back.
R: "..Weisz?"
W: "I know what runs through a tampered mind like yours, Servais. You're not good at hiding it."
SFX: The voice now lacks any humor at all, only matter-of-fact, a drastic change that couldn't alter anymore sound, yet the lingering silence must have ached in both. From what it seen the light in the hallway shined through the doorframe again, disappearing as soon as was noticed.
R: "..Tampered, hm. Well..I suppose you just know me well enough to make such assumptions. Or act as if you do-"
W: "Oh, don't give me that crap, Servais!"
R: "No, I will. I told you countless times, it isn't me you should focus your worry on."
W: "Well, it is you NOW-!"
SFX: Each man's words are drowning out the other's within seconds, the sound of floorboards creaking until they stopped at a shelf, a thick book knocking down onto the floor beside R who grunted, nails striking against wood as a body collided with the space. Some teetered over, but not off. Mangled breaths met once more, accompied by the new ticking of time on the wall, set back into motion from the force. A click of tongue.
W: "You think even now you could ever best me and I prove so wrong, Servais. Now, here again, you show that you worry just as much for yourself as I do. Believe it. You're afraid. We all were, once. It doesn't make you any less a magician if you still are."
SFX: R didn't respond right away, only continuing his breathing, growing thin shortly. His body unsteadily rocked against the shelf until standing upright.
W: "Because you still are a magician either way, light."
SFX: A scoff, much more exaggerated.
R: "Oh, please, don't use that dumb name now."
W: "..Light. You aren't good with the dark, so you merge into it. Become it. Where you go, it always follows. Without you, the shadows? Ha..they nothing. Nada. You should know that."
R: "...Bulb."
W: "There he is, now."
R: "That doesn't excuse what you said before, Weisz."
W: "Ah, ha..I'll write you up a new set as an apology, Roy. Come here, now. You're going to crush my hardwork."
SFX: R then pushed off of the shelf completely, standing straight, then slowly slumping down against the other, the two nearly crashing to the floor from the amount of noise caused by stumbling tap shoes. W laughed, a common thing now, the noise melting into something warmer as he sat up, scooting towards the opposite end of the room.
SFX: A tie was pulled loose, then dragged off and tossed away like trash, landing near the door just enough to be seen on camera. Meek giggling could be heard, hushed down, followed by the short pop of a buckle, whipping once through the air before resting in one's hands.
W: "You wanted to see a trick, right?"
R: "..I..Y-Yes, yes..but.."
W: "Then come, now. Don't be shy. It's not going to hurt you by just looking at it, Roy."
R: "..I liked it better when you called me by my first name-"
W: "[Indescribable language]..hm? What was that?"
R: "Nothing. What are you planning with that belt? If a staff member walks in-"
W: "Hush, the door's locked, you whiner. Not like they'll even hear us! ..Less you-"
R: "I beg your pardon-!"
W: "[Mumbling] ah, you're acting like a sissy, Roy! Like those adults who can't determine between an act and a live execution. You always get so loud-"
R: "Reminder there is a camera here, bastard."
W: "Hm?..You covered it already, sissy. Stop acting so paranoid."
SFX: R began to speak but was cut by a loud crack, forced into a seemingly mutual state of shock as it wrapped around skin, the clash of tough fabric against a sleeve button sudden yet short.
W: "See? It's on, yeah?"
R: "Efron-"
W: "It's on, yeah?"
R: "Yes, it's on! God damn it, you..!"
W: "..Servais,"
R: "[Exasperated] WHAT?!"
SFX: Drifting wood slid against a body, and W fell with it, a loud bang hitting R off guard and forcing him to fall near the door, the heel of his shoe visible..
R: "Wh-Tha..Efron..?"
W: "[Wheeze]"
R: "EFRON?"
SFX: Knees grated the scattered floor over to the other, hesitantly lifting the fallen wood, groaning out in pain.
R: "...What?"
W: "Here I am."
R: "[Short scream], WH-YOU BASTARD! YOU COULD'VE NEARLY GOTTEN INJURED!"
W: "Emphasis on the nearly, liiighht!"
R: "Don't you fucking light me now, you-! ..Oh..oh dear.."
W: "What? You're so skittish, Servais.."
R: "G-Get off of me.."
W: "Aw, but I only just got on.."
R: "I'm serious, Efron. This isn't the place, nor the time. We have enough to focus on now other than your antics."
SFX: Sighing, a push up with struggling weight.
R: "You already broke this shelf,"
SFX: The shoe disappeared as R walked over, placing an object underneath to keep it from laying flat.
R: "What would've came if you had put another crack in that skull of yours? I'm beginning to doubt you even have one."
W: "..Probably."
R: "I swear, you are-"
SFX: Heavy feet, one was shoved against the door, both shoe fronts touching face to face, a trembling brown pant leg against the lighter material of a bag hung on the knob. The end of a greenish-gray pant leg stood steady, shoe squeaking as they clashed, the other grounding unknowingly.
R: "...You...
SFX: His voice is tired, almost embarrassedly defeated, squeezing out his throat as a coat dropped right to them.
W: "Please don't leave me."
R: "...I swear-"
W: "Please, Servais. You know I'd never leave you, right?"
W: "...right?"
R: "Du bist zu nah-"
W: "Damn, answer me, Servais!"
R: "..du-"
W: "I KNOW I AM! I KNOW IT! But I'm not moving until you tell me so! That you promise me so, Roy!"
R: "...[Soft indescribable German]"
W: "...It's only a trick, Servais. That's all it is."
R: "..You're going to hurt someone. For matter of worse..yourself."
SFX: A light shove, and the bearded man bent down to grab his coat, pulling it on with ease yet noticeable tension.
R: "I can't just stick around and watch that happen, bulb. You know just why."
SFX: Door creaked open, bag swung up.
W: "..What, so you're going to leave me? Again?"
R:"..Yes."
W: "..So, what you're telling me now is that all of that meant NOTHING to you, hm? All those days spent–all those blasted nights spent–! ..It didn't mean a THING to you, did it?!"
R: "..I.."
W: "..Just go. Run. Run like you always will. I'll fix the shelf myself, good gracious that no one notices the hole either. Stupid belt'n rubbish.."
R: "It's not rubbish-"
W: "I SAID GO, SERVAIS!"
R: "You don't get to shout at me!"
W: "Yet that's all you've been fucking doing since we got her-!"
R: "Yeah well excuse my terror-!"
W: "What terror?!"
R: "That you-!"
W: "What of me?!"
R: "Are-!"
W: "What??"
R: "MAD!"
W: ".."
SFX: W clicked his tongue, starting, then stopping.
W: "..You know, you take a lot of irony with you in your life, Roy."
R: "Stop it."
W: "It's truly funny how-"
R: "Shut up-"
W: "No. I'm not ceasing my words just to ease you, Roy. You're a grown man now, how old? Nearly thirty-three?"
R: "...I am thirty-three."
W: "..Huh. Well, not my fault I missed saying happy birthday. You had me removed. Jacked. Thrown! Ground, and sky, I couldn't reach you, Le Roy! You want to know why, now?"
R: "..Why?"
W: "Because you run from your guilt. Remember, it wasn't me who killed him."
R: "..."
SFX: The shoe stood, tapped incessantly against the other, and quickly turned, throwing open the door and slamming it, causing the room to shudder. The object slid out, and the shelf crashed once more, almost adding to the pain in W's finishing words.
W: "...He'll drown on that stage, won't he? Running from it won't end the path he set. Nothing will."
SFX: The remaining pants turned clockwise, arms swung down to sides, then reached up for a hat. It was plucked off, showing a bald man with a gruesome scar on his left forehead cutting diagonally across his face to his eyes, dark and focused on the hat he held, a quivering in his lips and hands. He blinked slowly, wiping away forming wetness.
?: "..You're on tomorrow at six, Mr. Houdini."
W: "..Thank you."
SFX: The camera blurred from poorness, then covered back up by a simple frisbee-toss of the hat back on. Shoes grew heavy as W grabbed out a pair of scissors, snipping the tie remaining on his wrist, opened a drawer for a new belt, and walked out. The door shut by itself from gravity.
------------------------
Back to the stationed present, as 'Mr. Houdini' could be accounted for walking down from an alleyway, a chain locked to his hands and a stoic expression on his pale face, earrings dangling as the man waited for the tank of his ride to refill. Muttered phrases went as followed.
------------------------
"..Easy day, isn't it?"
An accent, friendly, caused the man to look up from his shoe-less socks, gaze heavy at the stranger who smiled from the reflection on the open trunk. He nodded blankly, earning a grin. "Yeah, I bet! Easy days all round, hm? Nothing beats a fresh Tuesday, I say now, sir! You coming in for the cab North, I reckon?"
A shrug, moment of silence, another nod. He didn't speak much, or just had no motivation to for a meer stranger. Cruz didn't mind. "Yeah, you reckon too. Well, don't you worry, it'll be done in a jiffy! Just needa' check the fuel bar once more, make sure it shows as full now. Nearly got into an incident because a passenger thought we were running on zip, haha!"
The bald man snorted, wiping his carved nose with his finger. He sniffed, then pushed off the pole he once leaned on, hands shoving into his pockets as he examined the open trunk. "What's all in there? Junk?" He asked, and Cruz stared at him for his accent, a little disarmed by how lighter it was then for his face. "..Well, why not? What trunk doesn't have junk in it, stranger? You the nosy type, ay?"
"Nosy? No. ..Well, not usually, no. It's hard not to think a little." Straightforward then dubious, Cruz noted. He liked people who thought against their statements. Made them feel human to realize uncertainty was still a thing to hold. Long as he wasn't in the middle of driving did it never matter to him, hopefully not this gentleman either. "Of course. If you didn't think you couldn't live, is what I say."
"..You say wise things then, sir. Do tell me more, in that funny little voice of yours."
"..Oy." Cruz looked up, smirking with tight eyes. "I'd watch it, now. I was beginning to like you, lad. Now, I know I'm not British, but you don't seem so either." He then stood and dusted off his pants, fixing his cap right over black curly hair. "Now where you off to really? North isn't a destination, lad. It's a direction."
Houdini didn't seem to find his words worrisome, only laughed and nodded apologetically, moving around to the back seat. "Ah, ha, yes sir. I'm well aware. You see, though, I have secrets to maintain. Just take me North, sir. I promise you'll get your money, and I'll get off at my stop. It's a good deal?"
Cruz chewed the inside of his lip, glanced at him from the window, and smiled lightly again. "Sure! You've already hopped in, yeah, buckle up!"
------------------------
Inside the cab.
------------------------
C: "So, where you say you came from, again?
H: "_______ Theater, Mr. Driver sir."
C: "Hmmm...Mr. Driver sir..I like it! Now, as for this place, never quite heard of it. Sounds fancy, though.
H: "Yes, well, you could certainly say that. In some aspects.."
(To be added)
(OK i can start working on this now that he has dedud)