The X-Project

Artie, Warren and badly forged art


Artie didn't often bother heading to the X-Factor offices but he had some papers and a small forgery he wanted Arthur to look over and, if possible, handle. As he was in Manhattan, he'd dropped them in his bag and simply walked over to their building.

Warren was very pleased with himself, moreso than usual. Another day manning the office because he was bored and couldn't sleep meant that he reorganized things a little as well. Now, in one of the corners, he'd created a hammock station. It wasn't much -- more like a few pads on the floor, some standing hammocks in various colours, and an inflatable palm tree to set the mood. He would have gotten a real palm tree but he was 100% sure that no one would appreciate that level of effort. Once it was all set up, he looked at it approvingly and lowered himself happily into the red one. A fedora put over his eyes completed the scene, and he enjoyed lazing about while Frank Sinatra crooned about Ipanema in the background.

And then the door opened and ruined everything.

Lifting the brim of the hat up, he looked quizzically at the person who had just walked in. He had no idea who they were. "Let me guess. Cheating spouse? Or an employee faking a work-injury? Ooh! No, wait. You have the look of someone wanting revenge. That's an extra fee but we can help."

Artie's lips quirked at the sight of it. He'd thought Jubilee was bad, especially now she was stealing Olive Garden paintings and redecorating the office. He gave Warren a smile and projected an image of Arthur with a question mark over it.

"Well, I don't know why you'd want revenge on Arthur but full disclosure, he is a close, personal friend of mine so the fee will be triple."

"Revenge? No, I want him to touch this painting I found," Artie replied, making sure that the projected text continually remained right in Warren's eyeline.

The words in the air were very interesting. It was like having a conversation captioned instead of hearing it. Warren kinda liked it. It kept him aware of what was being discussed since now that revenge wasn't part of this, he was already bored.

"Oh. That's less exciting. He's off doing Arthur things which probably means hugging orphans or building wheelchairs for paralyzed puppies. What do you want to know about the painting? I did art history in university. Shocking, I know -- I am educated, oddly enough. I just choose not to use it."

Eh, the g rated explanation wouldn't hurt. Artie laid the painting down on the table. It wasn't great. A poor copy of something that might have been a Monet. "My friend here's a shitty art forger but-" Artie held up a finger, "he's friends with some people we're interested in. I need Arthur to touch this and tell me what happened in the room the painting was in. If he can do that."

A quick glance made Warren shudder. "Oh, this is terrible." He leaned down, his brow furrowed while his eyes darted all over the canvas. "Not only is your friend terrible at what he does, he doesn't even bother to properly source his materials." Warren touched the fabric lightly. "This canvas is meant for watercolour -- see how the oils look wrong? He probably bought it from a .... dollar store." The words made Warren almost puke. "And .... I don't even know if those are oils. Pastels probably. You want to find someone with dirty fingers....."

"Exactly. Stupid. He's used phthalo blue instead of Prussian blue and it wasn't even invented at the time and he's used lead tin yellow just because it sounds old, but it wasn't used then, and here?" Artie tapped it, "Alizarin crimson but he hasn't faded it." The text faded and Artie shook his head, full of professional indignation. "I'm just offended. He's actually selling them, too. He's tried to source the appropriate canvas but it's 15-20 years too new and it was hard to get quality canvas during world war 2, which is why it looks off."

Warren was really enjoying the captions. He made a mental note to see how he could do this regularly. "Your friend is an idiot, but the bigger idiots are those who are buying them. I feel no sorrow for them." And then he got an idea. "Oh, is this meant really more for public shaming? I would love to do that. I am great at making people feel bad about themselves."

"We can't touch them. The buyers are associated with the triads that are getting into weed farming in Oklahoma through shell companies. They're protected but organised crime likes mutants so we keep tabs on them." Artie sighed audibly.

"There is a lot to process in that sentence. I don't like triads. They're not nearly as respectable to work with like the yakuza. Now, that's a criminal organization." Waren smiled fondly. "They eat sushi off of naked women. And have cool tattoos."

Artie nodded. "Old fashioned classics instead." He began to wrap the painting up. "I can't leave this here but I will bring the next one along for us to laugh at."

"Why laugh? We could start our own series. Be productive instead." Warren gave a laugh. "With our art knowledge, I'm sure we could create an interesting side venture."

Artie sighed regretfully. "I can't. I moonlight as a forger. I mostly do papers but I occasionally get art jobs. I can't compromise the identity by doing that."

Warren had already walked back to his hammock while Artie was talking. "Fair enough. And I buy real art, so I can't be seen doing that. Well, there goes that dream." He flopped down and started to slowly sway. "It was fun while it lasted. Thanks for the visit, person whose name I never asked and will probably forget immediately. It was a pleasure."

He'd had to ensure that the text followed Warren around the room. "No problem. I'll see myself out."