would you sell your soul [Schneider/Erik]

[Lukan Moore]

"Traitor!!" The mutant screeched with his face pressed against the bars, finger nails clawing at the bars like a trapped animal. From the edge of the basement cooed another voice, a woman's. "Oh the poor de-" Plastic cracked against metal as a third mutant interrupted her. "SHUT UP! Just shut up bitch! He's a dirty, rotten, rat like the rest of them!" Dirty, grimy faces peered out from behind equally filthy cells; no matter how much you cleaned them, the rust stayed. Some of the prisoners looked sympathetic - the women and the mothers - but for the most part they glared with a ruthless intensity. "Traitor!" And at the end of all their jeers and screams stood one unlucky, misunderstood boy; Lukan Moore, the youngest of the Schneider clan.

He silenced them all with one crack of the bat... to the metal bars. The boy swung around, wielding the bat like a sword. "Next time it'll be your heads!" He snarled as the shadows in the room unfurled and fluttered, like disturbed birds fleeing from their cages. But unlike the shadows, these mutants wouldn't being flying anywhere, not until they were sold. And Lukan - mutant or no - had little sympathy for the lot of them. Rather, he felt thankful that he was not one of them. He felt privileged to be a part of the gang's scheming. Schneider had implanted that much into his brain, and it didn't seem to be wavering.

Now that the prisoners had quieted down, the traitor - so they had nicknamed him - moved about the cells to hand out their daily meals. Today was cold leftover soup with a cup of water on the side; a delicacy. Luk nearly threw it at those who screamed at him earlier, but he had enough self control to resist. Or perhaps it was the good in him that was so often near extinction...

WORDS! 319
TAGS! Schneider/Erik
NOTES! OUTFIT
CREDITS! Haze

[Clyde Schneider]

"We have a fine selection for you to peruse. Men and women of varying ages and ability. You will be allowed to look over any that catch your eye, and if you wish to make a purchase, then we can discuss the price." Schneider held out a hand as he spoke to direct the woman beside him toward the basement stairs. She was beautiful - a good bit younger than he was, with lots of voluminous blonde hair and a shirt that fit her lovely body very well. More importantly, she was rich and possessed looser morals in the trading people department - exactly the kind of woman Schneider looked for. He was looking forward to the big, fat paycheck she would be handing to him at the end of her visit - even if she didn't yet realize that she was gong to buy.

They were nearly halfway down the stairs when the CLANG of something hitting metal reverberated through the small area. The woman flinched, but Schneider only pressed his lips together in irritation and glanced at the shadow trailing behind - this was all Erik Loren's fault for not teaching Lukan some subtlety (never mind that the bat had been Schneider's idea originally, or that in other circumstances he would have been sure that Erik's soft heart would have more problems with it than he did). Now, of course, he was going to have to do some damage control. He fixed the woman one of the smiles he never used for anyone but the customers, and touched a hand to her back, guiding her on. "Don't mind the noise; some of our merchandise can be . . . volatile and needs to be handle with a slightly heavier hand. Ah, here we are." He pushed open the door and let her step through first into the alley that ran between the cells.

Lukan was there, dutifully feeding and watering the mutants in their cells, and Schneider felt a swell of satisfaction - he liked people seeing how he kept the mutants in check. That was part of the reason he kept Erik with him on these visits - he hardly needed a bodyguard against such a slender, delicate woman. The woman swept past him with a fascinated look and began peering in one cell after another, taking her time with each and carefully ignoring the frequent abuse and occasional plea she was sent through the bars. And with every few steps her eyes darted to examine Lukan as he worked, a small smile curling her red, red lips.

[Erik Loren]

Erik knew the real reason why Schneider brought him along as his towering, intimidating shadow on these particular meetings. It surely wasn't because the gorgeous blonde woman that kept shooting him sensual glances could actually do him any harm. He knew it was because the smaller man liked to show off his... pets. In this case, he was nothing more than Schneider's guard dog. Erik knew it. Once upon a time, that knowledge had irritated him. But now, well, Erik had been working with Schneider--a man he hated and who hated him in return--long enough that he had simply desensitized himself to it as he had desensitized himself to so much more.

At the moment, Erik was a walking, living, breathing being of steel. There was no legit purpose to it besides the fact it was an obvious display of power. Another part of Schneider's power play. "Look at my obedient little mutant dog. He even does tricks." The thoughts made it easy for his expression to stay a blank kind of intimidation. All part of the gig. After all, he was one part guard dog, the other part intimidator. Oh, wait, he was also a errand boy if it so suited the boss. He could almost shrug at it all. After eight years of it, it was just another day at work.

Sometimes, the only good thing about it--except for the obvious paycheck and stay-out-of-jail-card--was Lukan. To say that Erik had a soft spot for the kid would be the understatement of the century. He would go to hell and back to protect the boy. Schneider knew that and it was yet another reason why they clashed on a deeper level. Luckily for all involved, Erik was damn good at what he did and he'd protected the boss from death and/or permanent debilitation several times over the course of the years.

Erik ignored yet another wanton glance from the blonde. Even if he was willing to play the game, it wouldn't be with her. He was a professional and therefore hid it, but he held no respect for the rich and powerful that they did business with. Not that he had any respect for himself, to be truthful. They all dealt in the trafficking of people. Mutants, to be exact. In essence, he worked to capture and sell his own, if one wanted to think of it like that. But it was amazing what desensitization could do for the psyche. A loud, metallic clang echoed up the stairwell to them and he had to hide the smile that came as a response to the woman flinching. All talk, this one. But seeing as how she would be where his paycheck came from, he would continue to show her his good little guard dog act. As such, he was meant to be seen, feared, and not heard.

He followed behind the two of them and entered into the main part of the cells lining the walls of the basement. The part of his mind where his own humanity--as smothered as he'd made it--reeled at the inhumanity of what was transpiring here. But he ignored that, too. As they walked in, his steely (literally) eyes focused instantly on Luk doing his grunt work. Those same eyes flickered over to note the bat. He remembered the first time Schneider had told the kid to use the bat on the captives. He also remembered that they'd had words about that. Unfortunately, there were plenty of things that Erik had no control over when it came to Luk and that's what really irritated him.

And the brat was wearing his jacket!!!

Erik's jaw clenched. He couldn't do it now--it would be bad form in front of their female guest--but he was going to have a chat with the kid about taking/using his stuff without his permission. In the meantime, he stayed a little in the backdrop and watched. Because of his steely vigilance, the way the woman continued to throw interested glances, like someone looking over merchandise, at Luk. She was supposed to keep that reserved for the ones in the cage. Not Luk. Luk was not for sell. Ever.

Erik's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

[Lukan Moore]

Lukan's jeans brushed against the concrete floor as he bent down to slide the plastic bowl - not that different from your average dog bowl - of soup through the bars. The mutant lay curled up in the corner; he was quiet, reserved, and somewhat.. unnerving. Neither Schneider nor his gang even knew the guy's name. Lukan didn't like quiet mutants. He'd much rather be screamed at and taunted than given the cold shoulder; the quiet ones were too... unpredictable. They always seemed ready to snap. And right now, this particular mutant did just that. The nameless mutant - occasionally called The Mute by various Schneider goons - suddenly lunged forward and grasped Luk's wrist with a calloused hand. They all snap at some point...

The Mute growled out in a low, gruff voice - highly reflective of his hands - and tugged Luk so close that his cheek bone pressed against the bars. "Little boy... you're trying to fill shoes too big and too evil for you to ever manage." Lukan stared, dumbstruck and speechless. He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut, taking his words away with a single breath. The Mute stared right back... he was challenging him. Respond, his gaze said. Respond now. So, he did... but in a voice barely above a whisper, and with very little hostility. "They are not too bi-" The nameless mutant tightened his grip, silencing Lukan, who now seemed younger than sixteen. "Your jacket is falling off your shoulders, boy." The Mute sneered, diminishing Luk's pride. "Too big of a role... I'm telling you. Too big of a ro-" With only the soft hush of clothing against floor, the mutant hurried back to his corner. And why? The boss was here.

His face soft, confused, and youthful, Lukan found himself caught in a moment of weakness. At the flick of a switch, Lukan regained his steely glare and tightened his jaw. "Boss..." He very quickly nodded his head in greeting before scrambling to feed more of the mutants. The boy swore that he caught The Mute smiling out of the corner of his eye. Bastard, he thought. Luk was so caught up in his job that he hardly noticed Erik and the skinny little blonde poking around the cages. But when she looked at him... it was hard not to notice. His eyes flickered down to her lips - curled and calculating - before he promptly looked away. He resolved in one brief moment that she - like the quiet mutants - was unnerving.

WORDS! 427
TAGS! Schneider/Erik
NOTES! OUTFIT
CREDITS! Haze

[Clyde Schneider]

Schneider knew what Erik thought of him, and had, on occasion, questioned the intelligence of keeping someone who so clearly hated him as his bodyguard. Erik was – if not loyal – obedient. Plus, Schneider had a few aces up his sleeve that he had no problem pulling out if it was ever needed. He hid a smirk at the thought - really, Erik shouldn’t wear his emotions out on his sleeve like that – he made it too easy. Which, of course, was why he didn’t think twice about having steel-Erik following him and their guest - was why, in fact, he took great pride in it. He nearly laughed aloud when he saw Lukan, though the feeling shifted to a quickly-smothered frown when he saw which cell he was beside. He had heard the others talking about that mutant – “The Mute” – and after a moment’s thought recalled that he was a lie-detector. Not a dangerous power (though useful), though he knew the man made several of his employees nervous. Including Lukan, judging from the look he quickly hid at their appearance. Perhaps the woman would buy The Mute and take care of that, since the last thing he needed was a bunch of skittish mutants running around his house. He gave the tiniest nod to Lukan’s acknowledgement, feeling smug – and somewhat relieved – that he was the only one to receive such acknowledgment. On the one hand, he didn’t want the woman thinking that were allowed to interact like real people, and for another he didn’t like Lukan’s and Erik’s interactions anyway.

“Oh, these are excellent!” The woman paused a step back from one of the cells, a girlish smile on her face as she examined the young man with the thin, silver choker around his throat. “This one’s a . . . teleporter, yes? . . . and an air manipulator . . .” Schneider folded his hands behind his back as the woman moved further down the line, and shot Erik a glance. The guard looked stiff (even for steel) and Schneider frowned in what he was sure was a wasted warning – if Erik so much as twitched a finger in her direction, there would be hell to pay. When he turned back, the woman had reached the cell Lukan was working on, and she stood watching him with that same small smile. “What about this one?”

[/i] She reached out with her slender fingers to grasp his chin and, knowing how the boy would react to that, Schneider barked a quiet warning, “Lukan.” If the woman wanted a look, then Schneider would make sure she got one. In a more pleasant voice, he added to the woman, “He’s a shadow manipulator – strictly moving them, nothing corporeal.”

“Is he really? How . . . interesting.” The woman all but purred the last word as she gave Lukan one more appraising look, and then looked back to Schneider. “I like him. How much does he cost?”[/i] Schneider blinked, startled her question. Technically Lukan was not for sale, but . . . He cleared his throat slightly and clasped his hands once more behind his back. “He is not for sale.” Just as he hoped, the woman’s red lips pursed in a pout – Lukan looked more valuable to her now. And though he had not intentions – for now – of selling Lukan, he could use the boy to convince the woman to take one of the more valuable mutants in the cells.
[/blockquote][/size]

[Erik Loren]

He caught Schneider's warning glance back n his direction before the smaller man followed lazily behind the blond woman. On the way over, that same woman had inquired after Erik. She had wanted to know how long he'd been working for the bossman, what his ability was, how well he did at his job, and, of course, his price. She had explained she wasn't serious, for the obvious reasons, but it was her insatiable sense of curiosity. Erik had a feeling that the blonde, a Mrs. Harrington--as he'd overheard earlier--was, by far, craftier than she at first appeared. That made him slightly uncomfortable. It was always the ones who seemed the most harmless--the most innocent and straightforward--that were the biggest cause for concern. They were the dangerous ones because they knew how to stab you in the back with blinding speed and finesse.

His instincts told him that she was a venomous snake, and his instincts were rarely wrong.

He was proven right a few minutes later when she finally cast off her pretenses of perusing the other 'merchandise' and focusing wholly on Lukan. Erik had caught the way she'd been looking at the teenager since the moment she'd entered. His steely jaw clenched, and if he were to grit his teeth, the terrible grating sound of metal crunching against metal would have been enough to set hair on end. He refrained, however. Instead, he clenched his hands into tight fists and tried to keep his breathing calm. After all, it wasn't a secret that he had issues with controlling his temper... and he could be extremely protective.

So, when Mrs. Harrington reached out to grasp Luk's jaw with her own slender-fingered hand, Erik didn't realize he'd already taken a threatening step toward them until Schneider threw him a scalding glare of epic proportions. The message was clear. Behave, little guard dog... or else. This time, his teeth did grate together for a fraction of a second to manifest is angry irritation. For that fraction of a second, it was like somebody scratched nails across a chalkboard. But Erik decided it would be best if he did behave himself... for now. He'd behave himself unless Schneider got serious about selling Luk. Luckily for all involved, the bossman made it clear that the kid was not for sale.

Good. Because it probably wouldn't look good on his future resume if he broke the blonde woman's neck.

[Lukan Moore]

Lukan tried to take no notice of the blonde's bubbly - and fairly annoying - enthusiasm. Yes yes, we're all so cool and amazing! The teen had heard it all, but he chose to live by Schneider's philosophy; all mutants are inferior. Every. Last. One. Even Luk thought himself pathetic when in the presence of humans... heck, even when he wasn't around humans he was still weak. Schneider taught him so; he embedded it in his mind. The boss had branded it so deeply into Lukan's flesh that no matter how obnoxious, cruel, or sickening a human, the teen automatically knew - or thought - that he was unworthy of their attention. Schneider - bless his crooked soul - was clearly the kindest of them all! He welcomed Luk into his business and spared him from a purposeless life. The misguided teen thought himself lucky.

But amongst his gratitude for Schneider's treatment, there was not a single desire to be sold. He loved being a part of the team... and he wanted to keep being a part of the team. So when Chatty Cathy took hold of his chin, Lukan let out a hiss so hostile and so animal-like that one may have sworn he was part cat... or snake. The shadows - reflective of his innermost emotions - sprung to life around the outskirts of the room, vibrating and crawling up the walls like disgruntled insects. There sporadic shaking and shivering soon shifted into a rapid pulsing movement; it was his heartbeat reflected on the walls. If not for Schneider's warning, the entire room may have fallen to an impenetrable blackness. Though while his power remained 'somewhat controlled,' Luk's heart was still on the brink of exploding,

Don't sell me. Don't sell me. PLEASE don't sell me. "He is not for sale." Lukan's tension flew away like air from a popped balloon. Thank God. He beamed up at Schneider, pushing the boss further up onto a gold-plated pedestal. The shadows slipped back down the walls, fixing into their original positions. All is well. All is safe. Lukan grew so confident in his 'secured' role that he - quite cockily - jerked his chin away from the blonde's grasp. Had he anymore bravado, Luk might have flashed a little, taunting grin in her direction.

WORDS! 384
TAGS! Schneider/Erik
NOTES! OUTFIT
CREDITS! Haze

[Clyde Schneider]

Schneider had expected – had known – Lukan wouldn’t be alright with Mrs. Harrington touching him, so he wasn’t terribly surprised when the teenager hissed. Displeased, yes, but not surprised. (Mrs. Harrington, on the other hand had jumped a bit, but hadn’t let go.) What Schneider hadn’t expected was how wildly the shadows would react to it. He was hard pressed not to flinch himself when the shadows began to shudder their way up the walls, or to show how relieved he was when his command kept the shadows still. Or, more still – the throbbing beat of them was more than a little disconcerting. The fool woman didn’t seem to think so – her delighted smile had grown as the shadows moved, and even when Lukan jerked his head away (to Schneider’s renewed displeasure), she only frowned for a moment before turning that pout on the boss.

“Surely you could reconsider? I’d be willing to pay a great deal for him.”

[/color] Excellent, she was one of those women who decided on a whim she just had to have something and would fight tooth and nail to get it. Schneider hid a gleeful smile as she sauntered back over to him – he felt like a cat with a mouse that had all but begged to be eaten. “Everyone has a price. Haven’t you said that yourself?”[/color]

“Yes,” He countered her with a slight smile, “but even you would be hard-pressed to find that kind of money. I’m afraid the boy is just too valuable to my operation right now.” Which was sort of true – Lukan was his inside man in the school, and though he could be replaced if necessary, it would be an inconvenience. This was too fun to just outright tell her to find a different mutant, however. And it only got better. Mrs. Harrington’s reaction was to shoot another look over her shoulder, and then press slightly closer to Schneider to murmur a price in his ear that – quite frankly – bordered on the obscene. Schneider raised both eyebrows at her words – it would be a pain to replace Lukan, but at that price it might be worth it . . . he still wasn’t sure he wanted to, but he was certainly more favorably inclined now. Of course, it wouldn’t do for Lukan and Erik to know he was even considering it – if they knew and it didn’t happen, the two of them would be insufferable – so he pitched his voice conspiratorially low when he next spoke, “Well, Mrs. Harrington, you make a . . . convincing argument.” The woman’s pout turned to a victorious smile and she turned a languid, gloating look toward Lukan. Schneider kept his face smooth even as he groaned inside – Dammit, she was going to get Lukan and Erik worked up and ruin everything, and Schneider would be the one to lose as a result. Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d think she was looking at one of the other mutants - the Mute was just beyond Luk (Schneider wished she had been looking at him; anything to get the infernal man out) – but he was sure even Lukan wasn’t that gullible.[/size][/blockquote]