Belloq chose...poorly

[archeologue]

Who: Tuco and Belloq, Niko and Belloq, Una and Belloq, and open to others as desired
What: Threads of Belloq's bad choices coming back to haunt him. All threads of comeuppance are welcome here.
When: First thread after this thread with Tuco when Belloq was announcing Niko's "death." All other threads after Niko returns alive and well.
Where: All around Blackway.
Notes & Warnings: Swearing. Probably much swearing. Threats of violence. Others tba.

Comments

[theugly]

At that, Tuco just looked at him, mouth ticked up on one side. The irony was, had Belloq not stressed the dangers of crossing the Orions, (and name-dropped them in the first place) he probably would have offered to help somehow. He'd have almost certainly insisted he was a very capable bodyguard, and that for the right price, he'd put his life on the line.

Now, it felt a little more like he was watching a ship sink in front of him. He couldn't help surmising that it was better for him to row his figurative raft as far away as possible, lest he be dragged down, too.

And so, with a jerk of his head and shoulders, he proceeded by setting his hat back on. "That's too bad," he said, failing to embellish the words with anything more than flat, token sympathy. "Try telling them: No todo lo que brilla es oro." He gave his hand a flourish. "Who knows? Maybe they more forgiving than you think."

[archeologue]

Belloq glared at Tuco and snarled, "It's a diamond they want, not gold. An enormous shining diamond."

He had no expectation or hope that the Orions would be forgiving. Their local crime boss was notoriously pitiless and impatient. The best he could hope for is to trick them. Perhaps if he captured the Prop and somehow forced it back into the shape of the diamond sword long enough to hand it off to the smuggler captain. Then it would become someone else's problem.

He fell to his knees and peered under the bed.

"Help me capture that creature."

[theugly]

Tuco opened his mouth, meaning to point out that a phrase was a phrase, and he didn't mean it literally—only to think better of it. There was a time and a place to argue semantics, and right now, with Belloq one step away from scrabbling across the floor, this was obviously not it.

Still, he was faced with a big question: was it really worth sticking around, or was this the time to make his silent getaway? His general reading of the situation was that Belloq was well and truly fucked... but then again, he'd always been an infuriating optimist when riches were concerned.

Breathing a heavy sigh out from his nose, he took a step forward and craned his neck, searching for signs of any unexpected movement past the boundaries of the bed. "Next time, try not to throw it so hard," he mumbled, helpful as ever.

[archeologue]

"Your suggestions are not helpful," Belloq growled. He saw a shadowy lump under his bed and reached for it. As soon as his fingers brushed the edge of cloth, the beret nee-sword darted off, out the other side of the bed and under a desk.

[theugly]

Tuco's thumb was already in the process of drawing back the Colt's hammer when it struck him that maybe Belloq didn't want the beret blasted with a signature five and one. Kissing his teeth, he lowered the pistol again and held up a hand.

"Slow down," he growled back. Belloq didn't exactly have the look of a man who'd grown up chasing his dinner. He had more of a silver platter kind of air about him. "You need to pin it. Block it off or something, huh?"