Killer Data

February 09, 2015: Domino tries to get a Bamf's help as a teleporter and winds up getting a bit more than she had bargained for. (Language)


Somewhere in an abandoned warehouse sits a lone black car…



  • Curly the Bamf

Mood Music:

Sitrep: Things have gone from 'bad' to 'royally fucked over.' Things aren't all as they should be. Just how they aren't Domino isn't so sure, but -something- feels Bad things have been happening, bad things because of her. She's still a wanted criminal in New York City. Now she can add Metropolis to the list.

Fortunately she hasn't completely over-stayed her welcome in Gotham just yet.

It's here in Jersey's dark and grimy city where she's found a secluded and long since abandoned warehouse to park her Jaguar XKR, releasing a long breath before she gathers the nerve to reach for her phone.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," she mutters to herself as she pulls up one of her contacts and starts typing out the warehouse's address.

She's worked out a process of communication with the recipient. The message will come through, the tone played unique to the number she uses. It probably won't mean anything to anyone else looking at the message, but for its intended audience?



In the same motion that has Domino handing a double old fashioned to the passenger seat already filled with two fingers' worth of whiskey, she's also opening her door to let the stench of rotten eggs escape her vehicle.

"Bamf!" Curly exclaims before -nabbing- the glass and tossing it down the hatch. Then yellow eyes widen and blink once, canting his head as he gives the woman a quizzical look. "Bamf?"

"Business today, Blueberry," she says without the benefit of eye contact. The door closes with a dull *Thump* echoing throughout the empty warehouse around them. "Needed somewhere private to chat. You can keep a secret, can't you?"

"Baaamf…" Curly replies with growing suspicion, narrowing his eyes slightly.


'Curly' disappearing has set off alarms lately, even if he's off exploring. And he does that a lot. It's one of the perks that comes along with being associated with the Bamfs that Kurt can follow where they go. So, it's not a couple of minutes later that a second *bamf* sounds in the same spot that Curly landed in and has moved out of the way. "I wish you would be-" There's a blinking of empty yellow eyes before they narrow.

"Really?" It's a question for the pair of them, and one that Kurt doesn't truly expect to be answered. There is one forthcoming, however, in the form of a chubby bamf shrugging his shoulders in a full body movement, dropping the glass as if he's getting rid of the evidence. "Bamf?"


(Bamf..? There isn't supposed to be a second-)

Domino's got her eyes on the rear-view mirror and a hand on the grip of a gun well before the dark fog dissipates in the back of her car. Yellow eyes to blue eyes in the reflection.

Bigger yellow eyes. Taller.

(Hmm. This is going to complicate matters slightly.)

"Be cool, I got this," she quietly sides to Curly. Not so quietly that Kurt's not able to overhear it, though.

"Does this guy have a curfiew that I don't know about?" she asks Kurt, still watching him through the mirror. "I figure if he's old enough to drink then he's old enough to set his own hours. Or if you're just so keen on tagging along I think I've got some German beer in the back."


The bamf shrugs again, the action a full-body gesture. "Bamf?" He's more than a little dubious, if the expression is any indication.

Kurt makes a grab for the shorter, spade-tipped tail and brings the bamf back to where he is. "Why are you using Curly as a co-conspirator?" The alcohol on the bamf's breath is a dead giveaway that something has been or will be discussed. "Unless this is some date, und I'll have to step in anyway because," Kurt shakes his head, though he can't hide a touch of a smirk, "that's not right. If you wanted to go out, all you would have to do is ask."


Grooooan… Well, Domino's lost this round. She can either show her hand or be back at square one without another teleporter to reach out to. However, Kurt's remark about them being on a -date- is enough to both leave her rolling her eyes and releasing her hold of the .45 secured beneath the dash.

"Definitely not a date. Look, if you're going to get your nose all up in my grill then you may as well take a front seat. I can't keep a good eye on you back there."

At least she's honest about this part, right?

She can wait, too. Or be annoyed because he'd prefer to stay back there. "I need a teleporter. One who isn't going to ask a lot of questions or blab about what they did or saw. Curly here can't be understood by anyone other than you from what I've seen, and he's practically small enough to tuck into a pocket. He also works for booze, which is something I understand."

The next question is answered pre-emptively. "-Yes,- it'll be illegal. No, no one's going to get hurt."

Because that worked out SO well for her the last time she suckered Kurt into helping her out!


Kurt looks at Curly the moment Domino explains, in basic terms, what she wants and why she's been reaching out to the bamf. Yellow eyes narrow as they stare at the bamf, and rather than looking sheepish and apologetic, the bamf crosses it's little pudgy arms across its chest and harrumphs. "Don't you.."


"We will speak of this later."

In the next moment, Kurt teleports out and back, landing in the front seat beside the merc. "Using Curley for illegal activities?" He doesn't sound happy. "Do you know how-" No. No one does. "I saved him from a life-" No, not the right tack either. "What are you looking to use him for? I have that right to know."


Then something really strange happens. Domino comes to Curly's defense. "Okay, hold up a second here, Bamfmeister. I haven't been buttering up Curly to drag him into the wonderful world of criminal activities, alright? He's a drinking buddy. ..Just one who also happens to teleport. I put the pieces together, that's all. This is the first he's heard about any of this."

Here she pauses and drops her forehead into her palm, slowly shaking her head. "What the hell am I doing…"

Then come the string of incomplete sentences from the furry blue demon beside her, though with a frown she pops her door open once again to try and keep that -stench- from taking root in the leather upholstry. "Crawling over too oldschool for you?" she almost growls.

Once the door closes with another *Whump!* she shifts in her seat, half-wedged against the door with a knee propping up against the wheel as she looks at the other mutant.

"Fact-finding. About six months ago a man died over something he thought was important enough to run with. I want to know what's so damn important. Alright? Curiosity killed the albino, I don't care anymore."


"You are drinking buddies with him?" Kurt thumbs in the direction of the bamf, who in turn grins widely, little fangs showing their white against the azure backdrop. "I…" there's a momentary hesitation before he exhales in a sigh, "I wonder about you." Both of you.

Kurt doesn't look put out about the door opening and closing to let the brimstone stench out, and he settles, his tail winding on the side between them, twitching lightly. Arms cross but not tightly, and those glowing eyes are back upon the albino, watching her consideringly as he hears her out. "How exactly is searching illegal?" Unless… teleporter. "Breaking und entering."


"Yeah, so?" Domino peers back at Kurt with a blank expression. "He doesn't trash the place in a drunken rage, doesn't try to make any moves on me, and he's great at getting bottles off of the top shelf. For a stumpy guy he can sure hold his liquor, too."

And..teleporter! If he doesn't get his weekly text then she's probably in trouble, which means she should have very good odds of being bamfed out of whatever trouble she might have wound up in. It's not her fault the guy's got an addiction, she just happens to find ways to capitalize upon it.

In retrospect, that's probably a bad thing.

"Ja, breaking und entering," she repeats complete with a shift in pitch to try and imitate Kurt's own voice. "The data's on an external drive, encrypted up the ass. I've already tried cracking it on St..upidly..powerful systems, total no-go. Only shot I've got left is to plug it into the central server where it had all come from. Nothing taken, nothing sabotaged. I just need to borrow the key to the family sedan for a few minutes, figure out what makes 'er go. It's like a five minute job, basically," she finishes with a casual shrug.

Tiny job, honest! SwearToGod.


"Sounds like the perfect friend," is deadpanned. The bamf is also less likely to talk, as had been noted before. While not silent, Curly can't be understood by anyone but him or Nocturne, which is potentially ideal for actions in the grey area.

"Who does this data belong to?" Kurt's brows rise, and it is beginning to sound as if maaaaaybe he may give his 'permission'. "Domino, I don't like this, for the record. You have to convince me it is the right thing to do." The bamf teleports to perch on Kurt's shoulder, tail wrapping gently around his neck for balance. "If it's the right thing to do, I will help."


Maybe not the -perfect- friend, but Dom would be lying if she didn't think it was a pretty damn useful alliance. Weekly whiskey for a get out of jail free card? With her track record of late?

Worth it.

Now comes the real gamble. She's done this dance with Wagner before. That he's even willing to hear her out at this point is little short of a miracle. It would probably be in her best interest to share all of the details.

She's still not going to, though.

"Yeah, you don't like anything that's morally questionable," she replies while reaching out for the rest of the whiskey still waiting in a bottle. Hell, she may as well try to enjoy the moment however she can.

"It's a total sucker bet that the data on there is owned by the corporation I need to get inside of just to read it. I don't suspect this is enough to satisfy your conscience, though."

Here she offers the bottle over to Kurt.

"It's owned by a defense contractor. They make weapons, if you need that spelled out. I can only imagine what they've got cooking that someone has to be killed to keep their secret safe."


He's no telepath, and Kurt could easily be led astray by thinking the best of a person rather than the worst, but he's wary. The moment Domino reaches for the whiskey, chubby fingers reach out for the bottle, followed by a small *bamf* which sees Curly landing on Domino's shoulder.

Kurt waves his hand and shakes his head, "No, danke," when offered the drink, but the bamf leeeeeeans forward to try and grab the bottle. In turn, the larger blue teleporter pushes Curly back away from the bottle. "Defense contractor.." and he seems to be giving it some real thought.

"Not him." Decision. "I will go, but if there is a problem, I will turn you into the authorities myself."


Dom's heard this threat before. Somehow she still isn't taking it to heart, or she feels confident enough this time to not be concerned about it. With Curly back on her shoulder she offers the bottle to the little guy, not sharing Kurt's concern about him drinking during their visit. "Looks like you're off the hook for this one, Fuzznut."

As it is, she's got a real good feeling that Kurt's direct involvement isn't going to make things any worse for her. Call it a hunch. Or her playing the odds again. It could be that, too.

"Then let's make sure that we aren't one of the problems," she replies with a lopsided grin. "Our target's in the heart of Metropolis. Given the city's jury-rigged power grid and that whole 'dark sky' problem of late it should be a walk in the park. We find the central server, take a peek, then get the hell out. I'll give you a ring soon."


With the bottle in hand, six fingers take hold of it and doesn't look as if he's about to let it go. Rocking back on his tail, the bottle tips up and he takes a couple of swallows before, "Whiskey!!" Doesn't he look so incredibly pleased with himself!

Kurt exhales in a sigh and shakes his head at the errant bamf. He lifts empty eyes to Domino and nods finally, "We won't be one of the problems." He sounds definite. "I will be waiting for your call."


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