Waiting for the World's Greatest Rat. [TAG; CORDAY]

Benedetto had heard something that set his blood aflame and drove him out here. He just sat there, in a little corner booth, looking prestine on the outside but bubbling over with anger on the inside. The pure loathing coursing through his mind was so intense that the Normals passing by would give him a wider berth than was neccessary. He was tapping the table gently with his thumb, almost in time with his hearbeat. Fast but not too fast, not unhealthy fast. His eyes searched the milling crowd for a multicoloured face. A little rat face.

Because Kate had asked him not to kill the bastard, Benedetto would not. That didn't mean, however, that he couldn't antagonise or maim anyone. Nothing serious, mind you. Just enough that the guy got out of Benedetto's city faster. To kill him would be so much better. Benedetto formed a fist with his right hand, squeezing tighty and thinking of how good it would be to squeeze Corday's throat like that. Just apply enough pressure to paralyze, then take out a scalpel and artfully cut his eyes out. One by one, maybe keep one attached to the optical nerve... So much fun can be had when you can make a person star themselves in the eye as they scream. Maybe give the whelp a good old fashioned Glasgow Smile. Ben would have the decency to make it a clean cut though, no need to rip up the cheek flesh.

He continued to satiate his fury by thinking about cutting off Corday's earlobes slowly and one by one. Cut the tendons in the back of his hands maybe, or perhaps just one of his hands - cut the other one off completely. A nice surgically precise seperation of the hand... but above or below the wrist? Benedetto made a note to be sure to ask Corday's preference when the opportunity presented itself.

Corday very rarely left his van, and that was only for going drinking, and occasionally buying food. Generally he ate whatever he came across, small animals, which thanks to a few survival guides that he managed to unearth, he knew how to skin and cook appropriately. Sometimes, though, there was just a hankering that he couldn't do away with, an itch he couldn't scratch. Alcohol was one of those itches, as it was generally hard to preserve in a hot, muggy, stinky van. He did have an icebox, but only ever used it for the most important things. He had yet to find something that important. Much as he loved the drink, it wasn't worth ruining a perfect ice box.

And so, he grubby little man headed to the best, and probably only joint in town: Joe's bar. He parked in the back and locked up tight. He was forever paranoid of somebody breaking into his van and stealing his worldly posessions, or his drugs, or tinkiering with the actual engine with the car. That was why he rarely left it. That and, well, it protected him as he protected it. It was pretty hard to recieve a viscious beating when you could hit reverse and flatten the assailants.

The dealer sauntered into the bar carefully. He felt strangely naked without his car, and therefore vulnerable. But Corday was experienced enough to put on a brave face, and possibly a rather intimidating one as well. Corday was gangly enough that he didn't look like he could do much in a fight. People who thought that were very wrong, because Corday fought dirty. He had made a point of keeping a few syringes heavy, and he knew how to carry them just so that he couldn't stab himself and still look entirely natural. He sat down on a stool and ordered something. He would make sure to sniff it before he drink it. After working for so long in poisons, it was hard not to test.

Benedetto caught the tip of the guy's head as he entered the bar, he could barely make the guy out but Ben knew it was Corday. You always recognized the ones you hate the most. Benedetto gritted his teeth and motioned sharply. A young Different came over, cowering and refusing to make eye contact. Benedetto was a well-known Normal so rarely was there a Different that didn't know who he was. He grabbed the young boy by the collar and yanked him in close to whisper a death threat in the boy's ear. It had something to do with disembowelment while his heart still beat away if he didn't go over to the drugdealer and tell him something. Benedetto pushed the Diffie away roughly in the direction of Corday and felt only a slight touch of satisfaction when the boy went sprawling on the floor and was nearly trod upon. He watched the boy get to his feet shakily and wander through the crowd towards Corday. He watched then how the boy inched closer to Corday nervously and tap him on the shoulder.

Look closely Ben did a quick bit of lip reading. Part of him earnestly hoped the boy slipped up, even only a little bit, so as to make it a touch more fun to kill him. Benedetto didn't need justification, mind. Fun however never hurt.

"Hey mister, that guy back in the corner wants to talk to you. He says he'll pay for your drink. Please mister go over, 'cause if you don't something's gonna happen to me in a bad way." he looked about 13 years old, barely hitting the acne phase of life. He looked almost on the verge of tears. Benedetto maintained his gaze over the small scene, waiting for Corday to look over.

Corday drank mostly undisturbed, which left him feeling rather at peace. Hell, he was enjoying himself quite a bit at the moment, which made him quite happy. He ran a hand through his hair and yawned a little, and was about to drink a little more, when a scrawny little somebody-or-other He glanced down at the little boy in front of him. He was shaking, jeez, what had crawled up his ass and died? He didn't know, but he looked scared out of his wits. He understood when he was told what was going on, and glanced across the bar and saw him there. The man himself, the one who shat bricks when his perception of medical science, or the natural order of things was challenged. Corday's face twisted into a hopelessly viscious sneer, before fading quickly as he looked down at the little guy.

"Well, I guess I'll have to go and see then, won't I?" he mused gently as he passed his drink over to the little guy. "Here, you can have this, but drink it fast or they'll think you've stolen it." He knew what was coming, and it annoyed him to no end. This guy was going to try and talk him into a corner, make him feel like an insignifigant shred of humanity, or less even. To make him feel like there was no hope left in the world, at least for him. That was the point of a threat, wasn't it, to make someone feel threatened. Too bad Corday couldn't give a flying fuck about what this guy had to say. He knew who he was, he knew that he was of great influence, and inspired great fear in the Differents.

Whatever. He was just a pissy old man who knew his way around a scalpel in Corday's mind, and as long as he just thought that of him, nothing this asshole could say could inspire true intimidation. "Come see me about that acne some time, okay kid?" And with that he got up and strode confidently over to Adessi. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "Well if it isn't the infectious Mr.Adessi."

Benedetto wanted to beat the smug look of Corday's face. He wanted to slowly remove the skin from the most sensitive places on the bastard's body. He wanted to stick a big fucking needle in his neck and drain every last drop of the fuck-up's blood out of him while still alive so he could feel it. Benedetto wanted to do alot of things but didn't. Kate had remarkable sway over him sometimes. Rather than leap across the table, tackling and bashing Corday's teeth in, Benedetto forced a grim smile. He even tried to convey that though he wanted to he did not in fact plan to do anything violent. These feelings however fell into a deep empty chasm of a mind, a black hole with the IQ of a fucking ant. Suddenly Benedetto wanted to crush him again.

"I was told you were back in the area, Mr. Corday," he withheld any sneer from the world, much to his personal discomfort. Benedetto hadn't gone through several years of training, blood, sweat, tears and murder to become a doctor and not be addressed as one. The son of a bitch, no fucking respect for anyone. Despite how much he wanted to kill Corday, how much he hated him on a very base level - he didn't ignore the fact that the man was a skilled chemist. "Sit down, I'm not going to do anything." He gestured toward the opposite side of the booth, well outside arms reach for both parties. "Order whatever you'd like, I have some things to... chat to you about."

"Oh, and do address me as Doctor - you and I both know the work required to achieve competence. I will respect your chemical...prowess, if you respect my medical annotations."

Corday wanted to reduce this acclaimed doctor/ mass-murderer (in Corday's Opinion), to a skeletal wreck of a man, he wanted to force-feed him things that would shrivel his intestines and slowly but surely stop his heart. He wanted to use his most wicked concoctions upon this disgusting product of twenty-three chromesomes or however many there were and make sure that when he was done he was some simpering mess drenched in pain, and shame, and bodily fluids. He wanted this man to suffer as his strain of humanity had suffered. He wanted to reduce him to....well hey, there was an idea. He'd keep that in the back of his mind for a little while. He'd let that slowly ferment. Why not.

"Well, clearly you were told right, but if you don't mind, my whistle is wet enough." He didn't let the facade of civility fool him, Corday was well aware of the fact that this man probably wanted to disembowel him where he stood. That was fine with Corday, most people wanted to disembowel him. He folded his arms when Adessi mentioned 'things', he could only imagine as to what those things might be, and he knew he would be none-too-thrilled about them. Whatever the case, Corday knew it was best to keep himself as alert as ever.

He shrugged at the doctor comment. Mutual respect was fine, he supposed, though he knew that it was more likely than not that the very thought of speaking to eachother with any means of respect would probably kill them both. "That seems fair, Dr.Adessi. But I suppose that I can guess what you're going to say to me anyway."

Benedetto forced a dry laugh and felt a small part of him, deep down, convulse with the strain of being civil to Corday. "Wetting one's whistle..Aha, yes. How quaint a saying..." He quite honestly felt sick and could barely contain his disgust. Corday was a plague on society, a repulsive pocket of puss on the limb of the world and it was for the betterment of everyone that he be lanced. A distraction came along in the form of an employee of the bar, asking Benedetto if there was anything he wanted. Benedetto waved her off, as he didn't drink.

He made a semi-inquisitive face, "You can imagine? Oh, I doubt it Mr Corday, I doubt it." Benedetto glanced down at the table for a moment, thinking about things. While he thought about numerous ways he'd like to cause Corday pain, he was choosing his words carefully. "You see, I'm not going to threaten you," as much as he wanted to, "and I'm not telling you to get out of this city." Again, as much as he wanted to say it he wouldn't. As Benedetto carefully thought out what he was going to say next, flashes of anger rose up. It was a deeply personal issue he was bringing up. It had to do almost entirely with Benedetto's pride and Corday's shoving his druggie hands where they weren't supposed to be.

"I've been asked by a mutual...friend of ours to leave you be, so rest assured I will leave you to your own devices. As long, that is, as you keep your devices out of my morgue." Benedetto forced another grim smile and kept the snarl out of his voice. The only way he was capable of it was imagining grabbing Corday around the head and systematically bashing his skull in against the edge of the table. The thought of being spattered up to the neck with that bastard's blood was soothing.

Personally, Corday found Adessi's behaviour to be a little insulting, perhaps even patronizing. If he wanted to say what he was really thinking he could just say it. No need to pussyfoot around like they were scared to do away with eachother. But when Adessi explained just what was going on with the lack of threat, Corday had to fight to supress a smirk. He knew that Adessi was an acquaintence of Kate's, and some of Kate's fighters only reached the level of prowess they had under the influence of some lovely little helpers that Corday gave them. Perhaps Kate wanted him alive just long enough that she could obtain his recipes. That made sense. Unluckily for Kate, those were all tightly tucked away in Corday's noodle, and he doubted that she would ever be able to beat it out of him entirely.

He loved the apparent tension within Adessi, and on some level commended his ability to avoid lunging at him and slowly peeling Coday's face off, layer by layer of skin. Like a flippin onion. Hah. Well, he supposed he would have to, being a doctor and all. He had to know how to wear a face.

Corday nodded lightly to what Adessi had to say. He shrugged somewhat and looked at the disgusting pile of crap who called himself an accomplished doctor. All the medical knowledge that had been lost he would never pursue, because he was a Normal. Because of him, people with completely treatable ailments would die. "I'll accept that, but I should tell you, I can't control what people do with what they buy from them. I can't stop them from reselling, or collecting from other people. And frankly, I'm only here about 6% of the time anyway, your morgue is hardly touched regardless."

Benedetto stopped smiling, "I'll explain myself a tad better. Stay the fuck away from my hospital. I don't care what you sell or two whom, as long as it is not near my hospital or to my patients." A tell-tale sign Benedetto was losing control in terms of anger level was having sworn. He, generally, did not swear. Ever. To him, swearing was the last resort of persons too lacking in intellect to communicate any other way. "Do I make myself clear?"

He got out of the booth and began putting his coat on, careful not to touch any surface unless he could help it. "I will be leaving now. Don't worry, I won't be following you, slashing the tires of your van or any other overly paranoid theory of yours. Also, do listen to what I've said. I'd hate to have to find you to chat again so don't make me, hmm?" He began to walk away, weaving his way through the crowd which parted with some ease. Over his shoulder Benedetto called a farewell, "Goodbye, Mr. Corday," hiding no distaste this time.

It was good timing, leaving now, but perhaps a moment or two too late. The boy from earlier just happened to be one of the last people standing between Benedetto and the door and paid for it. Benedetto struck him hard across the face with the back of his hand, knocking out a loose and rotting tooth. The boy crumpled to the floor and started sobbing silently. Benedetto took that to mean that the boy wasn't long for the world anyway and gave him a sharp kick to the stomach. Causing the wretch pain made him feel marginally better.

Outside, Benedetto leaned against a wall and took a breath. Again, it made him feel just a little bit better - but not as much better as simply gutting Corday would. Still, Kate had asked him to refrain and the last thing Ben wanted was to disappoint her of all people. A feeling like that from her would probably kill him.

Corday made no attempt to answer Adessi's little passive-agressive borderline bitch fit. Instead he just let his smirk do the talking, as he could tell it bugged Adessi, and enjoyed getting under the skin of somebody who considered themself to be 'top dog'. It faded however, as he watched Adessi make himself feel better by beating the little kid by the door, which could only fan the flames of absolute loathing that Corday had towards him. Corday wasn't sympathetic towards adults. Frankly, the whole stiff upper lip mentality suited Corday just fine. Kids were a different story. Once he was fairly sure the doctor was gone, Corday walked over to the kid before him and pat him on the head. "I hope that you get the chance to get him back for that." he murmured as he left the establishment. He strode off to his car, passing the flustered doctor on the way, eyes forward.

He hopped into his car and then drove off to areas he was better acquainted with in the city.

Benedetto watched the van moving away and suddenly had an impulse. He picked up the nearest rock, one with jagged edges, and pitched it as hard as he could at the puke coloured van. Watching it sail through the air towards his target made him feel a bit better while he wondered where it would hit and how it would affect the rat-bastard driving it. Benedetto then stooped down and picked up a six-inch long bit of metal that was sharpened at one end, blunt at the other.

"Turn around, turn around..." He tapped his foot.

Corday full on stopped the van as he felt something rather large hit it. His eyes narrowed as he realized where it must have hit, and the resulting dent in the metal that it would have cost. Dammit! That shit took forever to fix! He ground his teeth and then tried to convince himself that Adessi wasn't worth his time of day. But sometimes Corday could be an exceedingly petty man. Exceedingly. Petty. Man. He threw the car into reverse and sped up, heading backwards and watching carefully through the rear vew mirror. He'd run this bastard down, or something to that effect. Maybe break his foot. He approached him, sending a wave of mud out from under the car.

Benedetto, for once, genuinely smiled. But it was a bitter smile, one that said 'yeah, that's right you stupid sonofabitch... c'mere.' It was probably the most expressive look that had been on his face all day. He sort of tensed, watching the van come screaming back towards him and felt like he wanted to laugh just a little. He didn't, though. Benedetto held out the bit of metal and let it run a deep gouge into the metal of the van and, rather than wince at the horrid sound that emited from the contact, seemed to bathe in the glory of it all.

Then the mirror caught him in the upper arm. Which really hurt. REALLY fucking hurt. It spun him around, knocked the metal from his hand, then promptly knocked him on his ass just in time to get a bit of a mudbath. Benedetto's palms mashed into the gravel and debris, cutting them up. The fact that god knew what the hell was now getting into his bloodstream combined with the disgusting mud spattered on him was, quite frankly, just a bit too much. He sort of yelled and growled at the same time. It was angry, oh my yes, but also grossed right the fuck out. People really don't know what sorts of things crawl around on the ground and cake everything with a none-too-fine layer of infectious whathaveyous.

Benedetto got to his feet, holding his arm close to him and stalked towards the van. He slammed his bloodied hands on the hood from the side - Benedetto was not stupid enough to stand infront. He pointed an accusing finger at Corday and mouthed a few threats. Benedetto approached the window on the driver's side and banged on the glass to no effect. Still, it was the venting that counted.

Corday was laughing his guts out. Not only did he cake this guy with mud, he caused him some serious bodily harm in the process. He cackled to himself, though on some level he felt insurmoutable rage that his car had been scratched, but he could fix that. Right now all he cared about was getting Adessi. He wanted this man miserable. He wanted him dead too, but why ruin a good thing. He hooted and hollared and flipped him the bird as the man pounded his hands on the hood and then on the window on the driver's side. Corday stopped laughing to smirk at him.

"You know, the fact that you've probably got AIDs now or something is just the cherry on a fantastic start to the week. But you probably don't know what AIDs is, or what it can do to you, because you can't read, you knuckle-dragging retarded fuck. Toodles." And with that he took off into the distance.

Benedetto swore and kicked at the van as it drove off, "I'm going to ruin your life, you little fuck! You'd better run and hide like you always do, bastard!" Then swiftly pulled out disinfectant from his coat pocket and doused his hands and upper arms with it. It burned, but he applied it to his face as well.

Then he walked off, stalked more like, to his hospital where things were right.

Corday smirked to himself as he drove. He'd probably head back to the marketplace. He wasn't scared of Adessi. He'd had to deal with anal-retentive god-complex freaks before. Why should this guy be any different. He grinned broadly as he stepped on the gas. He'd have to buff out the scratch, depending on how deep it was, otherwise he might have to think about welding some random sheetmetal onto it, especially if it were really, really bad. He pet the dashboard and smiled to it. "Don't worry, old girl, I won't let the mean Italian fuck you up."