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Arsene feigned a yawn before saying, “What’s your name?”

Alessio wasn’t about to tell him, but he really needed information. Seeing him pause, Arsene smirked.

“Then my name is not your business.” He said “If anyone were to ask you who I am though, my name is Raoul Leblanc.”

“And what if I tell them your name’s Arsene,” Alessio said stubbornly “what would you do then?”

Arsene ignored him. He wondered if that was more of a threat than any threat the robber might’ve given. Not knowing was driving Alessio crazy, he was still trying to gauge how dangerous Arsene was right now. He was dangerous, and he didn’t seem at all conscious off the consequences of his actions that he didn’t directly intend. And that was unnerving to someone who had ever just been collateral to people who could get what they wanted with him.

“We need insurance.” The robber was talking to himself. Then suddenly popped off with a question.

“Can you fake illness?”

There was a palpable, unsettling pause over the room.

“Why?”

 

The next several minutes consisted in Arsene trying to convince Alessio of his plan. They stuck out “like sore thumbs”, he said, people would leave them alone if they were sick, no one would recognize them if everyone were trying to avoid them…

So now, Arsene had dragged him along into a room wafting so many delicious odors Alessio was more than reminded he hadn’t eaten in…who knows how long…?? Part of this deal better include a free meal, he wondered if there was a chance to getting Arsene to provide that…legally. He almost didn’t care, he was starving.

Arsene smirked, and swallowed something from a small bottle.

Alessio watched…waiting for something to happen.

The weirdo suddenly fell into a horrible coughing fit, collapsing on the floor. Would Arsene behave if Alessio told him to go to his room? His father would’ve horsewhipped him. I wasn’t that bad, was I? Alessio was beginning to understand why his father beat him every time he opened his mouth. The robber threw up uncontrollably and Alessio was sort’ve starting to get concerned. That person was probably reckless enough to accidentally overdose himself or something…

“What happened to him?!” A man demanded, staring at him. He came down with a bad case of theatrics, Alessio swallowed hard to keep from saying that outloud.

“Relax Mr. Tai,” A woman interjected “I’m sure it can’t be serious or life threatening, right?”

Alessio genuinely had no idea.

She looked at him like he was her only hope in sparing this scene. Thrice accursed, Alessio thought a-matter-of-factly. Now he was in for it.

“I certainly hope it’s not contagious…” Alessio muttered sincerely “I’ve been with him all day.”

Everyone stared at him anxiously, and Alessio suddenly had the irresistible urge to fall on the floor and throw up.

“I hope it’s not a plague.” Alessio added, drinking in the drama just a little.

 

In moments they were both hauled to a room filled with white cots and people scurrying to and fro. Alessio was noticing Arsene bumping into everyone he could. He suspected why and decided the best course of action was to pickpocket Arsene and return the stolen goods. He had a new photographic memory and enough detective skills he was fairly confident he could actually just slip all the stolen items back into everyone’s pockets.

That is until Arsene “accidentally” knocked into him while doctors were unmercifully waving completely alien things around him and poking him to get “blood samples” to see if he was ill too. Joke’s on you, I don’t have anything worth stealing. He thought at Arsene, while trying very hard not to snap every invasion into his personal space, which was constant and nauseating.

Finally, he was told to sit on a bed and wait while doctors did whatever “tests” and then he’d be “free to go”. By now he was so mad at Arsene for putting him through this. He just wanted to go home, except he didn’t have one and the closest thing to stability he could hope for was getting his friend back. He was so tired, so tired of fighting, so tired of feeling sick, so tired of being irritable.

He fell back theatrically onto the bed, feeling a little better for that.

Now was a stupid time to have a pityparty.

He just wanted Nithel back.

Shut up, I’m trying.

He just wanted to feel safe.

That was. Until he became conscious of something poking him through his pockets.

What. Had. Arsene done!

Maybe he expected a knife or a threatening note or something like that to be stuffed in his pockets. He decided not to look except he was an EXTREMELY inquisitive person. So he heaved a long sigh and sat up, casually leaning into a discrete corner behind a bed curtain so he couldn’t instantly be incriminated with whatever he found. This better be worth it, this was going to be so bad whatever it was he just knew it.

First, a necklace, a ring, several brown leather…detachable pockets??? Filled with green paper????? More rings, bracelets, bracelets that made weird ticking noises…???? The jewelry appeared to be valuable, Alessio was going to assume everything else was valuable too…

What kind of trick is this?

He glanced up at Arsene, now grinning impishly at him. It was not registering that the robber had given him some of his spoils, there had to be some angle in this for Arsene. This was blackmail or something?

“What is this…?!” Alessio whispered at him, with all the accusation he could manage without drawing attention to himself.

 

@ragnarok