Jacqui was happy to half-support Teddy through the midnight New York streets in silence, with nothing by the omnipresent hum of traffic, the chatter of the odd party-goer and the hiss from underground vents to accompany their walk. At Teddy's abrupt revelation, she didn't so much tense her shoulders as relax them, just a little.
"I wondered when you were gonna catch wind," she said, with a short shrug and a grim smile. They'd reached the entrance to her apartment block and she took a key from her purse and unlocked the main entrance to let them into the dingy corridor beyond. "Call yourself a P.I, huh? Still, I helped you all the same, you can uphold your end of the deal."
She was vaguely worried that now Teddy had figured out who wanted to know about the Bruyeres (even though he didn't know what for, hell, Jacqui didn't even know that), he might suddenly decide to conceal their whereabouts from her, reasoning that a potential threat to their safety (which Savio presumably might be) would out-weight any duty he had to fulfil his end of the bargain with Jacqui.
But he continued to speak and, though what he went on to say certainly alleviated some of that particular concern, Jacqui felt herself rapidly gear up like a cornered animal ready to claw her way out. But she didn't know which assailant to attack first: the assumption that she needed his help, like she was some kind of charity case he'd decided to take on like a Victorian philanthropist paying for a slum-dweller's education or that she was mercenary enough to sleep with him purely because she needed his information about the Bruyeres (perhaps she was, she didn't know, but she did know that she'd been ready to walk out after their chilly agreement of the deal), that there wasn't a breath of sincerity in her.
"Go to hell," she said, eyes ablaze, ducking out from under his arm and striding down the corridor in anger before stopping abruptly outside the door to her apartment. "Who says I need your help? Did you hear me ask for it, longhair? 'Cause I didn't! All you've gotta do is keep your damn word and you can get out of here. Keep your 'help'; this faker won't take you on any more fake-outs and you can save your generosity for the next collection plate."
The door to her apartment jammed, just as it always did, and Jacqui slammed it open with a well-practised thump to the panelling next to the lock. She went inside, leaving it open for Teddy to follow her and tugged the cord of the lamp in the corner on sharply. The cramped living room-cum-kitchen was thrown into a grubby orange light which gleamed off the mismatch of picture frames hung and fitted together like paving stones on the far wall. She suddenly wanted to be on her own; this city, this apartment, this skin was too small and she felt constricted by it all. Teddy, being here and saying things like that to her in that neutral matter-of-fact earnest condescending way of his, was just the icing on top of the cake. If only he could have played along, he could have come over, told her where the Bruyeres were and maybe she'd have stayed the night with him again before leaving New York. But he'd gone and broken the fourth wall and taken pity on her. There was nothing as guaranteed to rile her as that.
Rosie felt shamefully vindicated; so it happened wherever they went, did it? Then Tommy wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. Perhaps he'd forget all this business about getting papers and having the Bruyeres stay in the city after all...
"Nothing," said Rosie, artfully ignoring Prime's exchange with the waitress but inwardly sighing in resignation. "Nothing that I didn't have against you as well, when you both first arrived. I suppose it was the way my father acted towards you... And the fact that you seemed to be dragging Tommy and Clem into it all. I know that they wanted to now, of course," she added, quickly, not wanting to offend Prime despite his reassurance that she couldn't. There, she'd not stumbled or tripped over one word. Once she'd come out of hospital and had had the time and inclination to pick over what happened at Alex's apartment, she'd vowed she'd never be so clumsy with her secret again.
And for some reason, Prime finding out would be the most mortifying of all. Apart from Tommy himself, perhaps.
"But I suppose I haven't really had time to get to know her," she went on, taking a tentative bite out of her sandwich. "But with you... Walking me to class and lunch and... everything."
"Do you always do that with your food?" she added suddenly, pointing a fry at the arrangement of Prime's plate before realising she sounded a little disapproving.
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A Life Less Noir
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Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Thu Jan 05, 2012 6:45 pm
The Murmuration
mur·mur·a·tion
–noun
1. an act or instance of murmuring.
2. a flock of starlings.
Origin:
1350–1400; Middle English < Latin murmurātiōn- (stem of murmurātiō ).
mur·mur·a·tion
–noun
1. an act or instance of murmuring.
2. a flock of starlings.
Origin:
1350–1400; Middle English < Latin murmurātiōn- (stem of murmurātiō ).
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Fri Jan 06, 2012 3:30 am
They reached the inside of her building, and suddenly the warmth under his arm was yanked away and Jacqui was abusing her door, spitting acid at him, just like old times. Teddy took a deep breath to steady himself. He wasn't going to be the one who flipped his nut and lost control. Not this time. Still a little stiff in the one leg (that Italian knew how to toss a blackjack around), he moved in after her, shutting the door behind them.
"When words come out of my mouth, do you actually hear them? Or do you just pick out the ones you hate the most and decide that's what I'm saying?"
He scarcely noticed the apartment. It was prettier than a trench but not as serene as a church, and that was all he knew. He'd seen worse and he'd seen better during the course of his career. But the apartment wasn't important. Teddy's eyes were glued to Jacqui; to the tension in her frame, the way she kept her back to him and the way her lithe form was made so rigid she could have been used as a level.
Teddy followed the iron-hot trail she'd left through the air until he was even with her in the hall. "You don't have to ask for help and you don't even have to need it. I want to help you because--because dammit, I care about you. If that creep hadn't decided he wanted you to find out about the Cajuns for him, we'd never have even talked after that bit at the gallery. You wouldn't even remember me by now, would you? But here we are anyway, and I care about you. I have to know that you're alright--or at least that you're safe. Why does that offend you so much?"
---------------------------------
Prime nodded quietly to show that he understood, fighting off a small smile. Not only was Rosie actually making an effort to speak openly--before he imagined she would have responded with some sweet, passive, polite denial--but hearing her say, out loud, that her opinion of him had lightened made Prime himself feel lighter. It was a step up from the cold-eyed, coal-tongued rebuttal he'd got when he'd asked her to dance in that bar, what seemed like years ago. And considering that everyone else in this city was either not talking to him or and outright enemy...
She wasn't being entirely honest, though. Prime could see that. There was something else--something about 'Zo that bothered Rosa on a different level. It didn't have anything to do with her father's (well-earned) mistrust, either. It was different from other cities they'd been to, as well. Before, there was something about the way 'Zo couldn't hold an entire conversation without diverting it to the case at hand, and the way she needed her puzzles to help her think straight, and the way she turned heads without seeming to notice. There was always just something about his sweetly, exasperatingly naive sister that Prime had to defend her against. This tension, though, was something new. Of course it was. There was an untapped history between their families that put everything else in a different, harsher light.
One that Rosa claimed she didn't care about.
Prime looked up suddenly at the question about his food, then glanced down at his plate. When he raised his eyes, something remarkable happened. For the first time in years, his ears turned red. He flashed a grin tinged with more than a touch of sheepishness. "Ah, weh, I guess so. Don't even t'ink about it."
He shrugged, scratched at one of his heated ears, and took a bite of his own sandwich. "Is just one of dose t'ings, you know? Mostly I like t'ings...noisy, and bright. But a little order helps moi t'ink. I guess is sort of like 'Zo's puzzles..."
He chuckled. "Mon dieu, dat sounds so stupid out loud. I also always have to sleep facin' da south. And I get dressed left to right, always. You want to hear more? I probably got dozens, if you give moi enough time." He laughed.
"When words come out of my mouth, do you actually hear them? Or do you just pick out the ones you hate the most and decide that's what I'm saying?"
He scarcely noticed the apartment. It was prettier than a trench but not as serene as a church, and that was all he knew. He'd seen worse and he'd seen better during the course of his career. But the apartment wasn't important. Teddy's eyes were glued to Jacqui; to the tension in her frame, the way she kept her back to him and the way her lithe form was made so rigid she could have been used as a level.
Teddy followed the iron-hot trail she'd left through the air until he was even with her in the hall. "You don't have to ask for help and you don't even have to need it. I want to help you because--because dammit, I care about you. If that creep hadn't decided he wanted you to find out about the Cajuns for him, we'd never have even talked after that bit at the gallery. You wouldn't even remember me by now, would you? But here we are anyway, and I care about you. I have to know that you're alright--or at least that you're safe. Why does that offend you so much?"
---------------------------------
Prime nodded quietly to show that he understood, fighting off a small smile. Not only was Rosie actually making an effort to speak openly--before he imagined she would have responded with some sweet, passive, polite denial--but hearing her say, out loud, that her opinion of him had lightened made Prime himself feel lighter. It was a step up from the cold-eyed, coal-tongued rebuttal he'd got when he'd asked her to dance in that bar, what seemed like years ago. And considering that everyone else in this city was either not talking to him or and outright enemy...
She wasn't being entirely honest, though. Prime could see that. There was something else--something about 'Zo that bothered Rosa on a different level. It didn't have anything to do with her father's (well-earned) mistrust, either. It was different from other cities they'd been to, as well. Before, there was something about the way 'Zo couldn't hold an entire conversation without diverting it to the case at hand, and the way she needed her puzzles to help her think straight, and the way she turned heads without seeming to notice. There was always just something about his sweetly, exasperatingly naive sister that Prime had to defend her against. This tension, though, was something new. Of course it was. There was an untapped history between their families that put everything else in a different, harsher light.
One that Rosa claimed she didn't care about.
Prime looked up suddenly at the question about his food, then glanced down at his plate. When he raised his eyes, something remarkable happened. For the first time in years, his ears turned red. He flashed a grin tinged with more than a touch of sheepishness. "Ah, weh, I guess so. Don't even t'ink about it."
He shrugged, scratched at one of his heated ears, and took a bite of his own sandwich. "Is just one of dose t'ings, you know? Mostly I like t'ings...noisy, and bright. But a little order helps moi t'ink. I guess is sort of like 'Zo's puzzles..."
He chuckled. "Mon dieu, dat sounds so stupid out loud. I also always have to sleep facin' da south. And I get dressed left to right, always. You want to hear more? I probably got dozens, if you give moi enough time." He laughed.
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Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Tue Jan 10, 2012 5:35 pm
"It takes a lot to offend me, longhair," drawled Jacqui, dropping the kettle onto the stove and turning the hob on so that a flower of flame sprang into being below it. She turned her back to the counter and crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing Teddy. Maybe he even superficially believed what he was trying to tell her. Maybe somewhere in that squeaky-clean heart of his that was forever trying to stop some of the grime and dirt of the world from rubbing off onto it, maybe somewhere he actually thought he did indeed care for her. Just a little. And entirely against reason. But Jacqui knew better.
"But you're confusing 'caring' with 'feeling sorry for' and that just doesn't razz my berries," she said, trying to force herself not to get any angrier than she already was. She looked across at Teddy, who seemed to be trying to do much the same thing whilst simultaneously holding an earnest expression on his features that Jacqui didn't think she'd would even be able to attempt.
She slid the top of her shoe into the heel of the other and one by one they clattered onto the floorboards, leaving her three inches shorter and standing in her bare feet. Her arms remained crossed.
"Why don't we just get on with it?" she said, succeeding, by some strange emotional alchemy in turning her fire into a chill that frosted the tone of her speech and sat oddly coming from her scarlet-painted lips. "Where're the Bruyeres?"
"Oh, everyone does little things like that," said Rosie, once she'd gotten over the mild astonishment that she'd been able to make Prime blush with something as innocent as her comment. She really didn't know what he'd do next, sometimes. He seemed to have no qualms about flirting overtly with the waitress but a simple question about some quirk he had for arranging his food on his plate was enough to bring the colour to his cheeks. Or his ears, really.
"I always have to put my earrings on left-to-right. And I always eat red food first, if I can," she went on, with a smile. "So it doesn't sounds very stupid at all to me."
She didn't know what he was referring to when he mentioned 'Zo's puzzles. She impulsively found herself wondering if Tommy did.
"Did you ever think about going to college?" she said, after a pause. "If you could, I mean," she added hastily, unsure as to whether such a thing would be possible for a man who didn't formally exist. "Rather than doing all... of this."
"But you're confusing 'caring' with 'feeling sorry for' and that just doesn't razz my berries," she said, trying to force herself not to get any angrier than she already was. She looked across at Teddy, who seemed to be trying to do much the same thing whilst simultaneously holding an earnest expression on his features that Jacqui didn't think she'd would even be able to attempt.
She slid the top of her shoe into the heel of the other and one by one they clattered onto the floorboards, leaving her three inches shorter and standing in her bare feet. Her arms remained crossed.
"Why don't we just get on with it?" she said, succeeding, by some strange emotional alchemy in turning her fire into a chill that frosted the tone of her speech and sat oddly coming from her scarlet-painted lips. "Where're the Bruyeres?"
"Oh, everyone does little things like that," said Rosie, once she'd gotten over the mild astonishment that she'd been able to make Prime blush with something as innocent as her comment. She really didn't know what he'd do next, sometimes. He seemed to have no qualms about flirting overtly with the waitress but a simple question about some quirk he had for arranging his food on his plate was enough to bring the colour to his cheeks. Or his ears, really.
"I always have to put my earrings on left-to-right. And I always eat red food first, if I can," she went on, with a smile. "So it doesn't sounds very stupid at all to me."
She didn't know what he was referring to when he mentioned 'Zo's puzzles. She impulsively found herself wondering if Tommy did.
"Did you ever think about going to college?" she said, after a pause. "If you could, I mean," she added hastily, unsure as to whether such a thing would be possible for a man who didn't formally exist. "Rather than doing all... of this."
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Wed Jan 11, 2012 3:26 am
Teddy met her gaze evenly, allowing the silence to yawn between them for a few moments. It would be so easy to see her as delicate--especially when she stood at her natural height, and he had to incline his head a little to meet her gaze directly. Her features were fine and everything about her was so...small. It just served to make her gift of making everything seem beneath her all the more impressive. She treated the world and all of its inhabitants like cold, dumb animals whose only purpose was to hurt her. God only knew how she'd gotten like this.
Teddy frowned, then reached into the pocket in the lining of his coat. He withdrew a manilla envelope, which contained a series of photos. A man and a woman, standing outside a hotel with the name clearly visible. The street address of the place was plain to see, too. With that, any dunce would be able to find them, assuming they hadn't yet again changed hideouts.
He took a couple of steps forward, closer to her, but raised the envelope up and held it behind himself. Well out of her reach.
"I don't feel sorry for you," Teddy said, narrowing his eyes a bit. It seemed to be the only way he could avoid staring too hard into hers--getting trapped between each line of kohl. "You've made moronic decisions and they've bitten you in the ass. I don't feel sorry for anyone like that. And if you really think that your little friend is going to be satisfied with just this? You're naive. And I honestly never thought I'd be calling you that."
The envelope remained high in the air, but he brought it in to wait near his shoulder. For once, the old shrapnel wound was giving him a night off. "I want to help you get out from under his heel. You think I'm some pathetic idiot who doesn't know what he wants--you've made that abundantly clear, even when you were trying to reel me in. Fine. Despise me all you want. Call me names, roll your eyes at me, I don't care. But am I really so bad to be around that you'd rather take this--whatever it is--on alone? You already used me once. I know it may not be as much fun when you have my permission, but for God's sakes, Jacqui, do it anyway!"
----------------------------------------
A tiny grin flickered across Prime's lips at Rosie's admission about her own habits. Did everyone have those little ticks? Maybe. They were certainly more pronounced in the Bruyeres, though. Still...it was a hint about her character, that she would bother reassuring him about it.
By way of thanks, Prime didn't point out that college was rather impossible (or at least, incredibly impractical) for him when she brought it up. The minute grin returned, broadening the slightest bit when she corrected herself, but that was all. Then he sat back, his gaze dropping to his food. He bought himself a moment of thought by chewing another bite of sandwich. Then he looked up, a small frown knitted into his brow even as he smiled. "Rather than all what? Taking pretty girls out to lunch? Hm..."
He chuckled and shook his head. "No, I guess I never really t'ought about it. My schooling was a little different than most, savvy? I wouldn't even know what to do in a classroom. Mais, dere's been a lot of t'ings I've t'ought about doing. Tricks and trades I've had to pick up to do all of...dis, better. Learn how to build t'ings. Learn how to drive. Learn how to play da guitar. T'ings I guess I could do for a living, but not'ing dat sings to moi, you know? Besides, someone have to...to keep 'Zo out of trouble."
He shrugged. 'Someone has to take care of 'Zo,' as he'd almost said, sounded too much like an excuse--or worse, a regret--for his having no normal direction. Would he have stopped traveling and settled down somewhere, if not for 'Zo's need of the next big job? It didn't matter. Because that wasn't the way things were. And Prime was realizing, with the threat of Tommy Goldberg lingering in the not-so-distant horizon, that he needed 'Zo to take care of...probably more than she actually needed him to take care of her. That was his big direction. What did he have after that?
Prime shook his head, realizing he'd gone unusually quiet, steeping in his thoughts. He flashed a bright grin. "Dere was dis one time--probably my favorite--when I played at being a psychic. Learned palm reading, faked seances. Dress up like Baron Samedi--wore a top hat, painted me face like a skull." He leaned forward, cocked one brow, and lowered his voice. "And I spoke in this gravelly, underworld voice. As the spirits tell me, there are still some souls in Indiana who try to schedule appointments with the Baron, to no avail. It was a very effective disguise."
Teddy frowned, then reached into the pocket in the lining of his coat. He withdrew a manilla envelope, which contained a series of photos. A man and a woman, standing outside a hotel with the name clearly visible. The street address of the place was plain to see, too. With that, any dunce would be able to find them, assuming they hadn't yet again changed hideouts.
He took a couple of steps forward, closer to her, but raised the envelope up and held it behind himself. Well out of her reach.
"I don't feel sorry for you," Teddy said, narrowing his eyes a bit. It seemed to be the only way he could avoid staring too hard into hers--getting trapped between each line of kohl. "You've made moronic decisions and they've bitten you in the ass. I don't feel sorry for anyone like that. And if you really think that your little friend is going to be satisfied with just this? You're naive. And I honestly never thought I'd be calling you that."
The envelope remained high in the air, but he brought it in to wait near his shoulder. For once, the old shrapnel wound was giving him a night off. "I want to help you get out from under his heel. You think I'm some pathetic idiot who doesn't know what he wants--you've made that abundantly clear, even when you were trying to reel me in. Fine. Despise me all you want. Call me names, roll your eyes at me, I don't care. But am I really so bad to be around that you'd rather take this--whatever it is--on alone? You already used me once. I know it may not be as much fun when you have my permission, but for God's sakes, Jacqui, do it anyway!"
----------------------------------------
A tiny grin flickered across Prime's lips at Rosie's admission about her own habits. Did everyone have those little ticks? Maybe. They were certainly more pronounced in the Bruyeres, though. Still...it was a hint about her character, that she would bother reassuring him about it.
By way of thanks, Prime didn't point out that college was rather impossible (or at least, incredibly impractical) for him when she brought it up. The minute grin returned, broadening the slightest bit when she corrected herself, but that was all. Then he sat back, his gaze dropping to his food. He bought himself a moment of thought by chewing another bite of sandwich. Then he looked up, a small frown knitted into his brow even as he smiled. "Rather than all what? Taking pretty girls out to lunch? Hm..."
He chuckled and shook his head. "No, I guess I never really t'ought about it. My schooling was a little different than most, savvy? I wouldn't even know what to do in a classroom. Mais, dere's been a lot of t'ings I've t'ought about doing. Tricks and trades I've had to pick up to do all of...dis, better. Learn how to build t'ings. Learn how to drive. Learn how to play da guitar. T'ings I guess I could do for a living, but not'ing dat sings to moi, you know? Besides, someone have to...to keep 'Zo out of trouble."
He shrugged. 'Someone has to take care of 'Zo,' as he'd almost said, sounded too much like an excuse--or worse, a regret--for his having no normal direction. Would he have stopped traveling and settled down somewhere, if not for 'Zo's need of the next big job? It didn't matter. Because that wasn't the way things were. And Prime was realizing, with the threat of Tommy Goldberg lingering in the not-so-distant horizon, that he needed 'Zo to take care of...probably more than she actually needed him to take care of her. That was his big direction. What did he have after that?
Prime shook his head, realizing he'd gone unusually quiet, steeping in his thoughts. He flashed a bright grin. "Dere was dis one time--probably my favorite--when I played at being a psychic. Learned palm reading, faked seances. Dress up like Baron Samedi--wore a top hat, painted me face like a skull." He leaned forward, cocked one brow, and lowered his voice. "And I spoke in this gravelly, underworld voice. As the spirits tell me, there are still some souls in Indiana who try to schedule appointments with the Baron, to no avail. It was a very effective disguise."
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Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Fri Jan 13, 2012 6:30 pm
Jacqui eyed the envelope sceptically, frustration building. Was he going to make her reach for it? Because really, that wasn't the kind of thing she did. She'd much sooner give him a black eye if he insisted on holding it out of her grasp.
"Well you'd better take it back then," she replied bitingly. "Don't you think I know that, longhair? I'll drop this off to the bastard and then I'm goosing it outta this city. Maybe to the West Coast, maybe down south somewhere, I dunno. But I'm leaving. So I won't be alone, I'll be gone. And-"
Unusually for her, her sentence devolved into a sound of exasperation and she suddenly walked past Teddy, heading for the small wooden dresser by the wall. She took out a small cotton wool ball from a paper bag and a bottle of lotion and began to remove her make-up with as much ferocity as it was possible to remove make-up with. The kohl around her left eye streaked briefly then disappeared.
"-I didn't use." She paused, laughed abruptly at her own falsehood. The kohl from the other eye was gone too. "OK, that's a goddamn lie. But I didn't use you as much as you think. You were the one who invited me over to yours, daddy-o. You were the one who stopped me from leaving. You'd already agreed to the deal before that; I didn't need to stay, did I?"
She glared at his reflection in the little mirror as the scarlet of her lips was replaced with a softer pink. Make-up gone, her skin looking paler, less-defined, scrubbed-clean, she turned around to face him.
"You play guitar?" said Rosie, suppressing the comment 'I'm sure Alzophine could take care of herself' from being spoken out loud. "I didn't know you were musical." Somehow it was easy to imagine Prime strumming some battered acoustic guitar somewhere in the deepest south, perhaps whilst he and 'Zo were on the road or maybe on some motel porch set to a backing rhythm of crickets chirruping in the night.
She regretted asking him about studying. He seemed rather deflective when it came to what he'd wanted to do with his life; he probably hadn't had much choice, from what she could gather of his background. And yet there was some aimlessness, some lack of direction to which he could divert pent-up energy that once again reminded her of Tommy. The two of them had more in common than they knew.
At his impression of a voodoo demi-god, she gave an uncharacteristically unladylike snort of laughter before stifling it with her serviette.
"Don't be ridiculous," she laughed, giving him a little push on his arm as he leaned over the table. "Did you really learn to read palms? My friends made me go to a fortune teller when we took a trip out to Coney Island years ago. But all she said was things about living a long and happy life; the sort of things you'd expect someone to say if you were paying them." She smiled and extended her hand, face up. "Why don't you try?"
"Well you'd better take it back then," she replied bitingly. "Don't you think I know that, longhair? I'll drop this off to the bastard and then I'm goosing it outta this city. Maybe to the West Coast, maybe down south somewhere, I dunno. But I'm leaving. So I won't be alone, I'll be gone. And-"
Unusually for her, her sentence devolved into a sound of exasperation and she suddenly walked past Teddy, heading for the small wooden dresser by the wall. She took out a small cotton wool ball from a paper bag and a bottle of lotion and began to remove her make-up with as much ferocity as it was possible to remove make-up with. The kohl around her left eye streaked briefly then disappeared.
"-I didn't use." She paused, laughed abruptly at her own falsehood. The kohl from the other eye was gone too. "OK, that's a goddamn lie. But I didn't use you as much as you think. You were the one who invited me over to yours, daddy-o. You were the one who stopped me from leaving. You'd already agreed to the deal before that; I didn't need to stay, did I?"
She glared at his reflection in the little mirror as the scarlet of her lips was replaced with a softer pink. Make-up gone, her skin looking paler, less-defined, scrubbed-clean, she turned around to face him.
"You play guitar?" said Rosie, suppressing the comment 'I'm sure Alzophine could take care of herself' from being spoken out loud. "I didn't know you were musical." Somehow it was easy to imagine Prime strumming some battered acoustic guitar somewhere in the deepest south, perhaps whilst he and 'Zo were on the road or maybe on some motel porch set to a backing rhythm of crickets chirruping in the night.
She regretted asking him about studying. He seemed rather deflective when it came to what he'd wanted to do with his life; he probably hadn't had much choice, from what she could gather of his background. And yet there was some aimlessness, some lack of direction to which he could divert pent-up energy that once again reminded her of Tommy. The two of them had more in common than they knew.
At his impression of a voodoo demi-god, she gave an uncharacteristically unladylike snort of laughter before stifling it with her serviette.
"Don't be ridiculous," she laughed, giving him a little push on his arm as he leaned over the table. "Did you really learn to read palms? My friends made me go to a fortune teller when we took a trip out to Coney Island years ago. But all she said was things about living a long and happy life; the sort of things you'd expect someone to say if you were paying them." She smiled and extended her hand, face up. "Why don't you try?"
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Sat Jan 14, 2012 11:41 am
"Yeah, and you think that'll be enough? What if your pal decides that you taking off means you've stabbed him in the back? Or what about when the new friends you'll inevitably make put you in the same spot? How long are you willing to run, Jacqui? How long before you run out of new sanctuaries?" Teddy followed after her without hesitation, coming to a stop, again, just a couple of feet away. His frustration was building, too. Watching her strip away the Amazon war paint to reveal the face he'd been more than ready to curl up with all day until...well, until Chuck called and told him about Dotty, didn't help.
Really, what was it with this girl? The only time she seemed to want him around was when he was expecting the worst of her. Any time he tried to reach out for her, she reacted like he was a slovenly drunk who had just tried to reach up her skirt in the churchyard.
At her (very true) points about the week before, Teddy faltered. His eyes drifted across her face, his lips remembered what it had been like to kiss hers without the lipstick shield, and something kicked in his chest. Then he shut his eyes, exhaled, and shook his head. "Fine. I called you over. I stopped you from leaving. I'm here, now, trying to help you while you're telling me to drop dead. What I really don't get is how you can stand there and, five minutes after telling me I'm just feeling sorry for you and don't even know it, act like I'm too interested in you. You can't have it both ways, Sugar."
He took one more step forward. "I won't ever touch you again, if you don't want me to. I won't ask you about any more of your 'friends.' I'm not asking you for a damn thing in return. You've got literally nothing to lose by keeping me around, and you might actually gain something from it! So what's the problem?"
-------------------------------------
Prime grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Mais, of course I'm musical. I'm a Cajun, Petit. I play for you sometime, hm? If we can find a good six-string."
Oddly enough, this simple diner-lunch was the happiest Prime had been in New York since...probably that night in The Gin Blossom. When he was actually getting along with his sibling and two of the Goldbergs. Just now, he didn't feel any need to focus on any of them. It was nice.
So, thoroughly amused, he played the Baron for all he was worth. Murmuring a gravelly "Very well," he leaned in, taking Rosa's smooth hand between his two callused ones. He fluttered his eyelids as if being drawn into a trance, and raised his brows as the fingers of his right hand drifted languidly across her palm, feeling all of the minute lines like a guide to the sweetest treasure. He even hummed a little, though that nearly caused him to lose his composure. The corners of his mouth hitched upwards, and he cut the humming off with a brief chuckle. Then he straightened back up, opening his eyes and regarding her open hand with a critical eye.
"Well, dearie," He said, still using the sly, purring, growling voice of his one-time persona, "this is a very fine hand. A woman of secrets, isn't she? See here, these portions of your thumb? They tell me you rule yourself with logic in place of will. Is that so? But this dip here, so much passion, hmm...And oh my, such a fine pink color. This is a healthy woman--you can see it in this little curve right here, oh yes. And very wise, this lady...maybe too wise for her own good. You see how this line cuts through this print? Tsk tsk, dearie, stumbling over your own feet in the spiritual sense...that won't get you very far at all, will it? And, mmhmm...oh my, what's this? I don't dare say it out loud..."
Then it was too much, and Prime folded up her hand between both of his own, laughing softly. "Is just a parlor trick, Petit. You want a real fortune? I do tarot cards, too. I read dem for you sometime, eh? Maybe do my face up proper and find a top hat, just to be sure we doing it right."
Really, what was it with this girl? The only time she seemed to want him around was when he was expecting the worst of her. Any time he tried to reach out for her, she reacted like he was a slovenly drunk who had just tried to reach up her skirt in the churchyard.
At her (very true) points about the week before, Teddy faltered. His eyes drifted across her face, his lips remembered what it had been like to kiss hers without the lipstick shield, and something kicked in his chest. Then he shut his eyes, exhaled, and shook his head. "Fine. I called you over. I stopped you from leaving. I'm here, now, trying to help you while you're telling me to drop dead. What I really don't get is how you can stand there and, five minutes after telling me I'm just feeling sorry for you and don't even know it, act like I'm too interested in you. You can't have it both ways, Sugar."
He took one more step forward. "I won't ever touch you again, if you don't want me to. I won't ask you about any more of your 'friends.' I'm not asking you for a damn thing in return. You've got literally nothing to lose by keeping me around, and you might actually gain something from it! So what's the problem?"
-------------------------------------
Prime grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "Mais, of course I'm musical. I'm a Cajun, Petit. I play for you sometime, hm? If we can find a good six-string."
Oddly enough, this simple diner-lunch was the happiest Prime had been in New York since...probably that night in The Gin Blossom. When he was actually getting along with his sibling and two of the Goldbergs. Just now, he didn't feel any need to focus on any of them. It was nice.
So, thoroughly amused, he played the Baron for all he was worth. Murmuring a gravelly "Very well," he leaned in, taking Rosa's smooth hand between his two callused ones. He fluttered his eyelids as if being drawn into a trance, and raised his brows as the fingers of his right hand drifted languidly across her palm, feeling all of the minute lines like a guide to the sweetest treasure. He even hummed a little, though that nearly caused him to lose his composure. The corners of his mouth hitched upwards, and he cut the humming off with a brief chuckle. Then he straightened back up, opening his eyes and regarding her open hand with a critical eye.
"Well, dearie," He said, still using the sly, purring, growling voice of his one-time persona, "this is a very fine hand. A woman of secrets, isn't she? See here, these portions of your thumb? They tell me you rule yourself with logic in place of will. Is that so? But this dip here, so much passion, hmm...And oh my, such a fine pink color. This is a healthy woman--you can see it in this little curve right here, oh yes. And very wise, this lady...maybe too wise for her own good. You see how this line cuts through this print? Tsk tsk, dearie, stumbling over your own feet in the spiritual sense...that won't get you very far at all, will it? And, mmhmm...oh my, what's this? I don't dare say it out loud..."
Then it was too much, and Prime folded up her hand between both of his own, laughing softly. "Is just a parlor trick, Petit. You want a real fortune? I do tarot cards, too. I read dem for you sometime, eh? Maybe do my face up proper and find a top hat, just to be sure we doing it right."
-
Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Sun Jan 15, 2012 4:33 pm
Jacqui did roll her eyes then.
"Relax, longhair. So long as I hand that-" She nodded sharply towards the envelope in his hand. "-to Savio and cough up the rest of the dough I owe him, he won't give a damn if I cut out. He's got bigger fish to fry than lil' ol' me."
As he continued, she found herself wondering if it was worth the effort to argue. The only thing that would get him out of here would be to go ape, to shout or unleash a few well-placed barbs concerning him and Princess Wallenstein and play on every insecurity in that superficially preppy head of his. Jacqui knew that she could, if she wanted to. Only that wouldn't be advisable before he'd handed over the Bruyeres' details, unscrupulous morals or not. And not only that, but she lacked a little of the will too. That was the problem (though she wasn't about to say so to Teddy). But fortunately it was a problem that came with a safety net: she'd be gone in a week or however long it took her to sort out a ride from New York to wherever she was going. There already a metaphorical clock ticking away. That made her feel a bit safer.
"You know what? Fine. If you wanna hang around and play at being my personal assistant, go nuts. What you think you're gonna achieve, I ain't got a damn clue, but hell, if your life's so boring I'm the only thing that can get you cranked then who am I to deprive you, huh?" she replied airily. "Just remember; I'll be gone soon, so you'd better start thinking about where you're gonna get your kicks from afterwards."
Behind Teddy, the kettle began to whistle on the stove and Jacqui slipped past him to stand on her tiptoes and reach for the mugs on the top shelf above the counter. After that, she reached again for the jar containing her tea leaves and deftly made two cups of tea. She abruptly set one down onto the counter for Teddy, the force of the motion sending a little of the tea slopping over the side, and headed for the bathroom.
"Drop the envelope, take the tea and I'll be back in a second to play nurse," she called, before taking a gulp from her own mug. In the bathroom, she rummaged in the cabinet with one hand before pulling out a small bottle of brown iodine. Closing the cabinet, she examined her own reflection in the tarnished mirror for a moment as if that might help her to judge her own motives a little better, before heading back into the living room. "Sit tight, sugar," she said, after picking up a few of the cotton wool buds from the dresser. "I guess I don't have'ta tell you this is gonna sting..."
Rosie watched his with the air of a teacher watching a child play a particularly surreal game; amused but attempting not to let it show. Her humour dropped away a little when Prime unknowingly hit upon a few points that were a little too close to the truth for comfort but she maintained her faint close-lipped smile as he growled and hammed his way through the palm reading.
"Oh and are Tarot cards more accurate than palm readings, then?" she laughed. The waitress sashayed over to deposit the cheque, looking a little disappointed to find Prime's hands clasping one of hers. Rosie, realising what she was looking at, artfully removed her hand from Prime's grasp.
"A musician and a psychic," she said, once the waitress had gone. "There you go, two career options right there. Shall we head back? I have another lecture in quarter of an hour," she added, standing up with some reluctance. It was funny how far things had come; not so long ago, she would have done almost anything to avoid a lunch with Prime and now... Now she looked forward to them as a break from the drag that was the guarded smiles and occasional whispers of her classmates back at college. She wondered what her father would have to say if he knew just how often she was meeting up with Prime. For whatever reason, she hadn't felt it right to actually tell him how frequently she actually did see Prime: at least once a day.
Tension rising to the base of his throat, like a breath caught inside his chest, Tommy edged around the side of the building, looking for an entrance to the block he guessed 'Zo had disappeared into. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time but it was not a totally unfamiliar one; it was the same feeling as when he'd crouched alongside the tank as it rumbled through the muddied tracks that zig-zagged through the Ardennes, not knowing when the next stutter of machine gunfire would be, when the next grenade would explode and whether they would originate from his own gun or his own stash or from that of the enemy. It was a feeling of suspense and he knew from experience that it never lasted long before something shattered its brittleness.
Within a few minutes, he found the door and after glancing around, he put his ear to the wood briefly. Hearing no sound on the other side, Tommy paused. It could mean one of two things; there was no one there or that there was someone there but that they'd heard him coming and were staying quiet in order to surprise him should he force the lock.
He took the risk and, with a sharp kick to the damp-infested wood next to the lock, the door flew open with a bang that was far too loud for his liking. He ducked inside and took a right at random, moving as quietly as he could through the dark corridors.
"Relax, longhair. So long as I hand that-" She nodded sharply towards the envelope in his hand. "-to Savio and cough up the rest of the dough I owe him, he won't give a damn if I cut out. He's got bigger fish to fry than lil' ol' me."
As he continued, she found herself wondering if it was worth the effort to argue. The only thing that would get him out of here would be to go ape, to shout or unleash a few well-placed barbs concerning him and Princess Wallenstein and play on every insecurity in that superficially preppy head of his. Jacqui knew that she could, if she wanted to. Only that wouldn't be advisable before he'd handed over the Bruyeres' details, unscrupulous morals or not. And not only that, but she lacked a little of the will too. That was the problem (though she wasn't about to say so to Teddy). But fortunately it was a problem that came with a safety net: she'd be gone in a week or however long it took her to sort out a ride from New York to wherever she was going. There already a metaphorical clock ticking away. That made her feel a bit safer.
"You know what? Fine. If you wanna hang around and play at being my personal assistant, go nuts. What you think you're gonna achieve, I ain't got a damn clue, but hell, if your life's so boring I'm the only thing that can get you cranked then who am I to deprive you, huh?" she replied airily. "Just remember; I'll be gone soon, so you'd better start thinking about where you're gonna get your kicks from afterwards."
Behind Teddy, the kettle began to whistle on the stove and Jacqui slipped past him to stand on her tiptoes and reach for the mugs on the top shelf above the counter. After that, she reached again for the jar containing her tea leaves and deftly made two cups of tea. She abruptly set one down onto the counter for Teddy, the force of the motion sending a little of the tea slopping over the side, and headed for the bathroom.
"Drop the envelope, take the tea and I'll be back in a second to play nurse," she called, before taking a gulp from her own mug. In the bathroom, she rummaged in the cabinet with one hand before pulling out a small bottle of brown iodine. Closing the cabinet, she examined her own reflection in the tarnished mirror for a moment as if that might help her to judge her own motives a little better, before heading back into the living room. "Sit tight, sugar," she said, after picking up a few of the cotton wool buds from the dresser. "I guess I don't have'ta tell you this is gonna sting..."
Rosie watched his with the air of a teacher watching a child play a particularly surreal game; amused but attempting not to let it show. Her humour dropped away a little when Prime unknowingly hit upon a few points that were a little too close to the truth for comfort but she maintained her faint close-lipped smile as he growled and hammed his way through the palm reading.
"Oh and are Tarot cards more accurate than palm readings, then?" she laughed. The waitress sashayed over to deposit the cheque, looking a little disappointed to find Prime's hands clasping one of hers. Rosie, realising what she was looking at, artfully removed her hand from Prime's grasp.
"A musician and a psychic," she said, once the waitress had gone. "There you go, two career options right there. Shall we head back? I have another lecture in quarter of an hour," she added, standing up with some reluctance. It was funny how far things had come; not so long ago, she would have done almost anything to avoid a lunch with Prime and now... Now she looked forward to them as a break from the drag that was the guarded smiles and occasional whispers of her classmates back at college. She wondered what her father would have to say if he knew just how often she was meeting up with Prime. For whatever reason, she hadn't felt it right to actually tell him how frequently she actually did see Prime: at least once a day.
Tension rising to the base of his throat, like a breath caught inside his chest, Tommy edged around the side of the building, looking for an entrance to the block he guessed 'Zo had disappeared into. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time but it was not a totally unfamiliar one; it was the same feeling as when he'd crouched alongside the tank as it rumbled through the muddied tracks that zig-zagged through the Ardennes, not knowing when the next stutter of machine gunfire would be, when the next grenade would explode and whether they would originate from his own gun or his own stash or from that of the enemy. It was a feeling of suspense and he knew from experience that it never lasted long before something shattered its brittleness.
Within a few minutes, he found the door and after glancing around, he put his ear to the wood briefly. Hearing no sound on the other side, Tommy paused. It could mean one of two things; there was no one there or that there was someone there but that they'd heard him coming and were staying quiet in order to surprise him should he force the lock.
He took the risk and, with a sharp kick to the damp-infested wood next to the lock, the door flew open with a bang that was far too loud for his liking. He ducked inside and took a right at random, moving as quietly as he could through the dark corridors.
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Tue Jan 17, 2012 2:58 pm
"Yeah, well, fortunately for you there are plenty of suckers around the world for you to get your kicks from." Teddy said. He did relax, once Jacqui agreed to let him keep his nose in her business. That had been more difficult than he'd expected. Maybe the only thing that kept Jacqui happy was giving someone else a hard time...that was about all he could infer from their past exchanges. Still, at least this way he would know that she was alright. Even if it meant watching her hop onto a train and ride off forever to give someone else a hard time...
No, not 'even if.' That was the best outcome. Teddy could finish up with all this nonsense with the Strangler and the woman psychopath and Jacqui's drug-dealing buddy and he could get back to the real world. He'd miss Jacqui's more human moments, but he'd age three times too fast if he had to dodge her fast balls any longer. And she sure as hell wasn't going to stop lobbing them just because he asked nicely. As long as she was safe...then that would all be alright.
Jacqui shoved her way past him and prepared two cups of tea as violently as tea could possibly be prepared. Teddy blinked, surprised, and probed the corner of his mouth with his tongue. It was still busted. He probably had a nice triangle of dried blood all down his chin, along with a popped-open eyebrow and some fine knuckle-gouges. During their argument, he'd completely forgotten about the reason they'd come to hers in the first place. Well, that wasn't so unusual. Jacqui had the innate ability to make him forget a lot of things.
"Right...thanks." Suddenly weary, he trudged over to the table and let himself into a chair as carefully as if the seat might have been a bear trap. He set the envelope down on the table, clear of the puddle of tea. Then he took a sip of the bitter liquid, and tried to force some of the tension out of his shoulders. They didn't have anything else to fight about, after all. He knew she'd been playing him. She'd agreed to let him hang around. That was all there was for them to argue over, so it was safe to let his guard down. Wasn't it?
He held out his hand for Jacqui to flood with the burning, supposedly healing powers of iodine, and breathed through his teeth at the first contact. He'd felt much, much worse. That didn't make it any more pleasant, though. His eyes drifted, of their own accord, from the slowly disappearing traces of blood on his hand up to her face. Even with the hard light in her eyes and the harsh light from the cheap bulbs in the apartment, she looked soft. Without all that masterfully applied makeup, and if he didn't know anything about her, he would have thought she was a piece of some dream. Prospero's daughter, untouched and at ease in nature. Why would anyone want to hide that face?
"When I called you over," Teddy said, then paused to wince as a particularly large cut was 'cleaned' in a way that felt more like it was being cauterized. Then he shook his head. What did it matter? "Never mind. When are you supposed to meet with this guy?"
-------------------------------------------------------
"Oh, you be surprised," Prime replied, a sly grin sliding across his features. "I got a grand story 'bout da cards...maybe I tell you sometime, if you like."
He scarcely noticed the waitress on her final visit. He fished out the balance for the check plus a generous tip (a habit both of his parents had encouraged) and followed Rosa out of the diner. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and took a moment to survey the crowd. No familiar or suspicious faces. No one too interested in the clean-cut girl leaving an ordinary building with a slightly less-ordinary man. It was just another late-summer, busy street in New York City. Prime relaxed. A little.
"A musician or a psychic, eh? I suppose dat's somet'ing. Not much to raise a family on, but I guess it could do. Do dey have classes for second sight at da university?" Prime asked, his brows raised in utterly unconvincing innocence.
------------------------------------------------------
By the time 'Zo reached the top of the rope and was hauled inside, she had formulated a new escape plan. It was nowhere near as quiet and easy as plan A had been, but plan A had been thrown out the window the second she realized there were far more men watching the office building than there should have been. It was one more mistake than she could afford herself again.
'Zo stood between the four men who had caught up between this floor and the other. The one with the pen knife was so satisfied with his night's work he was practically glowing. The rope was cut off and dropped to the ground, several stories below. 'Zo flexed her fingers, catching her breath as she looked between each of them. One had thick shoulders but narrow wrists. One was noticeably leaning on his left leg. Another squinted a little. The pen-knife man was too sure of himself. Four weak points. It would be difficult, but--
A heavy bang sounded below.
"What was that?" The squinting man said, twisting to look in the direction of the stairs.
"Could be more of them," Said thick-shoulders.
"Why don't you go find out?" Pen-knife suggested. There was a sneer in his voice that suggested he was used to giving directions, but perhaps not to having them carried out. Thick-shoulders and Squinty scoffed, but lumbered off towards the stairs. The door shut behind them. 'Zo's heart hammered in her chest. The noise was probably Mal, or Tommy. Probably Tommy. The plan hadn't been for him to actually get involved. The plan had been for her to get in, find something, and get out. Now he was in real danger because she had underestimated Savio.
Now she had a much greater reason to get out quickly and move on.
The man with the pen-knife moved closer. He held up the tiny blade with a lazy readiness. 'Zo raised her hands to show that she was going to cooperate. He reached for the ski-mask. 'Zo lunged forward. His nose shattered under her forehead.
No, not 'even if.' That was the best outcome. Teddy could finish up with all this nonsense with the Strangler and the woman psychopath and Jacqui's drug-dealing buddy and he could get back to the real world. He'd miss Jacqui's more human moments, but he'd age three times too fast if he had to dodge her fast balls any longer. And she sure as hell wasn't going to stop lobbing them just because he asked nicely. As long as she was safe...then that would all be alright.
Jacqui shoved her way past him and prepared two cups of tea as violently as tea could possibly be prepared. Teddy blinked, surprised, and probed the corner of his mouth with his tongue. It was still busted. He probably had a nice triangle of dried blood all down his chin, along with a popped-open eyebrow and some fine knuckle-gouges. During their argument, he'd completely forgotten about the reason they'd come to hers in the first place. Well, that wasn't so unusual. Jacqui had the innate ability to make him forget a lot of things.
"Right...thanks." Suddenly weary, he trudged over to the table and let himself into a chair as carefully as if the seat might have been a bear trap. He set the envelope down on the table, clear of the puddle of tea. Then he took a sip of the bitter liquid, and tried to force some of the tension out of his shoulders. They didn't have anything else to fight about, after all. He knew she'd been playing him. She'd agreed to let him hang around. That was all there was for them to argue over, so it was safe to let his guard down. Wasn't it?
He held out his hand for Jacqui to flood with the burning, supposedly healing powers of iodine, and breathed through his teeth at the first contact. He'd felt much, much worse. That didn't make it any more pleasant, though. His eyes drifted, of their own accord, from the slowly disappearing traces of blood on his hand up to her face. Even with the hard light in her eyes and the harsh light from the cheap bulbs in the apartment, she looked soft. Without all that masterfully applied makeup, and if he didn't know anything about her, he would have thought she was a piece of some dream. Prospero's daughter, untouched and at ease in nature. Why would anyone want to hide that face?
"When I called you over," Teddy said, then paused to wince as a particularly large cut was 'cleaned' in a way that felt more like it was being cauterized. Then he shook his head. What did it matter? "Never mind. When are you supposed to meet with this guy?"
-------------------------------------------------------
"Oh, you be surprised," Prime replied, a sly grin sliding across his features. "I got a grand story 'bout da cards...maybe I tell you sometime, if you like."
He scarcely noticed the waitress on her final visit. He fished out the balance for the check plus a generous tip (a habit both of his parents had encouraged) and followed Rosa out of the diner. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and took a moment to survey the crowd. No familiar or suspicious faces. No one too interested in the clean-cut girl leaving an ordinary building with a slightly less-ordinary man. It was just another late-summer, busy street in New York City. Prime relaxed. A little.
"A musician or a psychic, eh? I suppose dat's somet'ing. Not much to raise a family on, but I guess it could do. Do dey have classes for second sight at da university?" Prime asked, his brows raised in utterly unconvincing innocence.
------------------------------------------------------
By the time 'Zo reached the top of the rope and was hauled inside, she had formulated a new escape plan. It was nowhere near as quiet and easy as plan A had been, but plan A had been thrown out the window the second she realized there were far more men watching the office building than there should have been. It was one more mistake than she could afford herself again.
'Zo stood between the four men who had caught up between this floor and the other. The one with the pen knife was so satisfied with his night's work he was practically glowing. The rope was cut off and dropped to the ground, several stories below. 'Zo flexed her fingers, catching her breath as she looked between each of them. One had thick shoulders but narrow wrists. One was noticeably leaning on his left leg. Another squinted a little. The pen-knife man was too sure of himself. Four weak points. It would be difficult, but--
A heavy bang sounded below.
"What was that?" The squinting man said, twisting to look in the direction of the stairs.
"Could be more of them," Said thick-shoulders.
"Why don't you go find out?" Pen-knife suggested. There was a sneer in his voice that suggested he was used to giving directions, but perhaps not to having them carried out. Thick-shoulders and Squinty scoffed, but lumbered off towards the stairs. The door shut behind them. 'Zo's heart hammered in her chest. The noise was probably Mal, or Tommy. Probably Tommy. The plan hadn't been for him to actually get involved. The plan had been for her to get in, find something, and get out. Now he was in real danger because she had underestimated Savio.
Now she had a much greater reason to get out quickly and move on.
The man with the pen-knife moved closer. He held up the tiny blade with a lazy readiness. 'Zo raised her hands to show that she was going to cooperate. He reached for the ski-mask. 'Zo lunged forward. His nose shattered under her forehead.
-
Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Tue Jan 17, 2012 5:45 pm
Jacqui sat down on the chair next to Teddy, drawing it up to him so she was within reach of what had been his face only an hour or so ago. With a drop of water from the tap, a few dabs of iodine and a liberal amount of cotton wool, she managed to get most of the dried blood away from where one of the heavies from the Gin Blossom had socked his nose and cleaned the cuts on his eyebrow and over his knuckles. No one would suspect, she mused as she finished with his hand, that he was capable of taking such a battering (not to mention attempting to give one out himself) if they'd simply glanced at him walking down the street. Anyone else would have seen a blandly-handsome slightly harried-looking man who might have been a salesman, a law clerk, a teacher, any kind of anonymous white collar worker and would never have thought it in a million years...
Now that she'd given into his request, she actually felt a bit calmer. Not because it would make dropping the Bruyere's details off with Savio any more appealing- she certainly wasn't going to let him accompany her- but because her tiny grimy apartment seemed larger and less grimy with him in it.
"Oh, button it," she said, as he hissed a little in pain as she dabbed a last few drops of iodine across the cut next to his eyebrow. "These are like mosquito bites compared to the deal on your back."
She didn't ask him what he'd been about to say about the last time they'd met.
"I dunno," she replied, taking a drink of her tea. It slipped down, hot and sweet and she felt warmer for it. "I'll go round to his 'offices' tomorrow morning. I'll be cookin' if the slimeball's not there and I can drop it off then split. You're stayin' here tonight, right?"
"I don't know," said Rosie, pretending to think. "I'll stop by the education office and ask for you on my way back from lectures. You can enroll next semester. Maybe you could minor in vampire hunting or werewolf slaying too."
The sunny streets were busy but not unpleasantly so and Rosie felt very much at ease heading back towards the campus with Prime. In a way, she preferred being in crowds after... what had happened. If there were lots of people about her, the likelihood of him attempting something was next to zero, wasn't it? He'd never be so stupid as to try something in broad daylight where three dozen people could see his face.
The knowing game of make-believe continued until they reached the entrance to the lecture theatre on the far side of the quadrangle where Rosie paused and turned, just as several of her classmates walked by, glancing at her and her rapidly-becoming familiar companion in interest.
"Thanks for lunch, Prime," she said. "You know... Maybe I'll ask Daddy if you can come over sometime. To pay you back for it, I mean..."
Tommy heard the thunderous footsteps of the pair of men coming downstairs long before they had a chance to glimpse him. He slipped through the nearest doorway, finding himself in a musty-smelling cupboard that had clearly once been a janitor's closet, piled high as it was with empty bottles of cleaning fluid and a mouldy-looking mop in one corner. He pulled the door just to and flicked the safety catch from his gun, unconsciously holding his breath as he waited. Before, his heard had been thudding in his chest so hard it might have been the bass drum of the band at the Gin Blossom. Now, however, he was suddenly oddly calm. The eye of the storm perhaps, and he was about to dive heard first into the gale beyond.
The men were at the bottom of the stairs now and advancing down the corridor, muttering to each other about where a potential intruder might have gotten to. They were almost outside the cupboard door now and if they hadn't been separated from each other by three inches of brick, Tommy could have easily reached out an grabbed the collar of the nearest man from the sound of his footsteps on the concrete floor. Instead, Tommy slammed the steel door of the cupboard open with a force that bent its hinges. One of the men dropped like a stone.
The other barely had time to react before Tommy shot him in the foot.
It was unsubtle, he thought with surreal serenity as he cut the man's scream of pain short with a short sharp blow to his temple from the butt of his gun, but they already knew he was here now. And maybe he'd get to 'Zo faster this way. Trying not to look at the two (hopefully) unconscious men on the floor behind him, he continued on up the stairs.
Now that she'd given into his request, she actually felt a bit calmer. Not because it would make dropping the Bruyere's details off with Savio any more appealing- she certainly wasn't going to let him accompany her- but because her tiny grimy apartment seemed larger and less grimy with him in it.
"Oh, button it," she said, as he hissed a little in pain as she dabbed a last few drops of iodine across the cut next to his eyebrow. "These are like mosquito bites compared to the deal on your back."
She didn't ask him what he'd been about to say about the last time they'd met.
"I dunno," she replied, taking a drink of her tea. It slipped down, hot and sweet and she felt warmer for it. "I'll go round to his 'offices' tomorrow morning. I'll be cookin' if the slimeball's not there and I can drop it off then split. You're stayin' here tonight, right?"
"I don't know," said Rosie, pretending to think. "I'll stop by the education office and ask for you on my way back from lectures. You can enroll next semester. Maybe you could minor in vampire hunting or werewolf slaying too."
The sunny streets were busy but not unpleasantly so and Rosie felt very much at ease heading back towards the campus with Prime. In a way, she preferred being in crowds after... what had happened. If there were lots of people about her, the likelihood of him attempting something was next to zero, wasn't it? He'd never be so stupid as to try something in broad daylight where three dozen people could see his face.
The knowing game of make-believe continued until they reached the entrance to the lecture theatre on the far side of the quadrangle where Rosie paused and turned, just as several of her classmates walked by, glancing at her and her rapidly-becoming familiar companion in interest.
"Thanks for lunch, Prime," she said. "You know... Maybe I'll ask Daddy if you can come over sometime. To pay you back for it, I mean..."
Tommy heard the thunderous footsteps of the pair of men coming downstairs long before they had a chance to glimpse him. He slipped through the nearest doorway, finding himself in a musty-smelling cupboard that had clearly once been a janitor's closet, piled high as it was with empty bottles of cleaning fluid and a mouldy-looking mop in one corner. He pulled the door just to and flicked the safety catch from his gun, unconsciously holding his breath as he waited. Before, his heard had been thudding in his chest so hard it might have been the bass drum of the band at the Gin Blossom. Now, however, he was suddenly oddly calm. The eye of the storm perhaps, and he was about to dive heard first into the gale beyond.
The men were at the bottom of the stairs now and advancing down the corridor, muttering to each other about where a potential intruder might have gotten to. They were almost outside the cupboard door now and if they hadn't been separated from each other by three inches of brick, Tommy could have easily reached out an grabbed the collar of the nearest man from the sound of his footsteps on the concrete floor. Instead, Tommy slammed the steel door of the cupboard open with a force that bent its hinges. One of the men dropped like a stone.
The other barely had time to react before Tommy shot him in the foot.
It was unsubtle, he thought with surreal serenity as he cut the man's scream of pain short with a short sharp blow to his temple from the butt of his gun, but they already knew he was here now. And maybe he'd get to 'Zo faster this way. Trying not to look at the two (hopefully) unconscious men on the floor behind him, he continued on up the stairs.
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Thu Jan 19, 2012 5:04 am
Teddy couldn't help a little (wincing) grin. "Yeah, well...once you get a piece of hot metal blasted into and dug out of your skin, you reserve the right to be a pansy every now and then."
Clean, stinging, and tired, he felt himself lapse into an unusual state of rest. He didn't feel like he'd won something, but he didn't feel like he'd lost anything, either. It was like almost any other time he'd met up with Jacqui--they flung barbs at each other until someone drew blood, and then the world receded into some blue-gray cloud in the background. Nothing seemed to matter--or hardly even exist--outside of that room and that second. Everything was just clear and simple.
That wasn't how Dotty made him feel. She made him feel like...like he was in a fog. A pink, dunder-headed fog. Like there was a future that would only ever be that: untouchable, unattainable. Like there was something he desperately wanted to belong to and knew he never would. He'd never even seen it that--or seen anything wrong with it--until recently. His feelings for her had always just been some harmless, distant longing that he'd never have to approach. Then he and Jacqui had kissed for the first time.
So which was better? He'd probably never know. At the moment, it didn't matter.
"I should go with you, then," Teddy said, in response to Jacqui's morning plans. "You know. In case you need any human collateral."
Teddy nodded at her last question, with a lack of hesitation that surprised even him. Of course he would stay the night there, if it was on the table. To make sure Jacqui didn't disappear on him too soon. To hold onto the calm after the storm for as long as possible. "If that's alright, yeah. And thanks for-" He gestured to his own face, "-cleaning me up."
His eyes drifted down to the table; to her recently uncasted wrist. He had hardly noticed the impediment when it was there--Jacqui wasn't the type to bring attention to any of her weaknesses--but now her arm seemed impossibly slender without it. It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw a tiny bump under her skin where the break must have occurred. Teddy exhaled softly, and finished off his tea. He dragged a hand through his hair and looked back up at her. She was close enough he could have drifted one hand across the smooth expanse of her cheek. But she didn't like being touched--not gently, and not without permission. He'd learned that much, at least. "Look--just for future reference...if I do try to kiss you again, are you gonna re-break your wrist, cracking me in the face? I don't know if I could live with the guilt."
--------------------------------------------------------
"It was my pleasure. Mais, dat...sounds like an adventure." Prime grinned, trying to imagine himself sitting down for supper with the Wallensteins. He'd been wondering what 'Bad Luck Chuck' was like since he was a child. But to actually see the man at home, interacting with his family? While not being held at gunpoint? That seemed like too much of a dizzy daydream. Just spending this time with Rosa was good enough. More than good enough. Seeing her smile and hearing her laugh in that unpolished way made Prime more pleased with himself than usual. There was a warm buzz in his chest that certainly hadn't been there when he'd walked out on the snuggled forms of Tommy and 'Zo that morning. "You t'ink dey could tolerate moi, I'd be happy to show."
Aware that they were attracting attention--and for once, it wasn't attention Prime was trying to attract--he shot her a wink and stepped away. The flow of students formed a quick space between them. "Enjoy you lecture, Petite. I see you after, eh?"
Once he saw her safely through the doors, he turned and made his way to the second-nearest bench. Close enough that he could see anything suspicious, far enough away that it wasn't obvious he was doing so. The time during her classes--when he didn't have time to leave, even though there was no real need to watch--could have been horrendous. Lots of time to think about how much closer Tommy was worming his way into 'Zo's heart without Prime there to interrupt their conversations and break 'Zo's eyes contact when she was staring too long, too adoringly at the way Tommy's stupid curls tickled his ears or the way the mechanic furrowed his brow when he read or--whatever it was she was fascinated with at any given moment. Lord help them all. Prime used the time well, though. He scanned the papers for any more information--about drug arrests or potential Strangler leads. He studied old notes and tried to take down new ones. He plotted where he and 'Zo would escape to next.
Today, however, Prime found himself distracted. He was thinking about why no one else used such a perfect sounding name as 'Rosa.' He considered which song he could play for her, if ever he got his hands on a six-string, that would appeal to her the most. What was that one? He could remember the tune, but not the name. It was low but sweet, moderately paced and meant to go with a solid thumping beat that you could feel in your chest.
"Prime?"
He looked up from the paper he hadn't been reading, blinking owlishly. A pair of round, pale-blue eyes, framed by springy red curls, peered back at him. He slowly folded the paper. "Clementine. What you doing here?"
"I go to school here, genius. And I wanted to catch Rosie outside her next class to ask her about a--thing. What are you doing here? I thought Uncle Chuck made it pretty damn clear-" Clem stopped, huffed, and pushed a few rogue curls back under her hat. "Where have you been? How's Tommy? I haven't heard a word from Mister Earthbound, I'm worried sick."
"He's alive."
"Gawd, you're reassuring. You should get a job in an emergency room. You could give apple butter like that to everyone that goes in and nobody that goes out. Would you stop with the cold front? It's making me goddamn frosted!" Clem put her hands at her hips and squared her shoulders. Prime leaned his head back, pursing his lips just the slightest bit.
With very deliberate movements, Prime retrieved a cigarette, tucked it into the corner of his mouth, and lit it with a match he struck off of his boot. "Him fingers ain't broken. I tell him to call. You want anyt'ing else?"
--------------------------------------------------------
The man who believed himself to be in charge howled in pain and clapped his hands over his face. 'Zo caught his elbow as he sagged to his knees, and wheeled him around to crash into his bespectacled companion. The scrawny man was so surprised that at first he simply caught his cohort. It took him only a few seconds to be fumbling in his jacket for a gun, or a knife, or whatever it was Savio's night guards carried. It took only a couple seconds for 'Zo to catch him in the Adam's apple with the hard edge of her fist. He gagged, stumbled back, dropped the pen-knife man.
Pen-knife was recovering with the aid of rage, and got up on one knee. He didn't make it to his feet before 'Zo landed her heel against his temple. He fell, and did not get back up. An elbow to the back of the small man's head had a similar effect. She took an extra second to search them for keys. Finally, a break came in the form of a small ring with several brass keys attached. None of them were labeled, but she would figure it out.
A gun fired, several stories down. 'Zo went rigid, then sprinted for the stairs. There was noise above--more guards, probably looking for more intruders. They wouldn't waste time searching for phantoms if there was an actual fight, though. She had to get down there, quickly, and rescue her rescuer before he was caught up in her mistake.
Clean, stinging, and tired, he felt himself lapse into an unusual state of rest. He didn't feel like he'd won something, but he didn't feel like he'd lost anything, either. It was like almost any other time he'd met up with Jacqui--they flung barbs at each other until someone drew blood, and then the world receded into some blue-gray cloud in the background. Nothing seemed to matter--or hardly even exist--outside of that room and that second. Everything was just clear and simple.
That wasn't how Dotty made him feel. She made him feel like...like he was in a fog. A pink, dunder-headed fog. Like there was a future that would only ever be that: untouchable, unattainable. Like there was something he desperately wanted to belong to and knew he never would. He'd never even seen it that--or seen anything wrong with it--until recently. His feelings for her had always just been some harmless, distant longing that he'd never have to approach. Then he and Jacqui had kissed for the first time.
So which was better? He'd probably never know. At the moment, it didn't matter.
"I should go with you, then," Teddy said, in response to Jacqui's morning plans. "You know. In case you need any human collateral."
Teddy nodded at her last question, with a lack of hesitation that surprised even him. Of course he would stay the night there, if it was on the table. To make sure Jacqui didn't disappear on him too soon. To hold onto the calm after the storm for as long as possible. "If that's alright, yeah. And thanks for-" He gestured to his own face, "-cleaning me up."
His eyes drifted down to the table; to her recently uncasted wrist. He had hardly noticed the impediment when it was there--Jacqui wasn't the type to bring attention to any of her weaknesses--but now her arm seemed impossibly slender without it. It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn he saw a tiny bump under her skin where the break must have occurred. Teddy exhaled softly, and finished off his tea. He dragged a hand through his hair and looked back up at her. She was close enough he could have drifted one hand across the smooth expanse of her cheek. But she didn't like being touched--not gently, and not without permission. He'd learned that much, at least. "Look--just for future reference...if I do try to kiss you again, are you gonna re-break your wrist, cracking me in the face? I don't know if I could live with the guilt."
--------------------------------------------------------
"It was my pleasure. Mais, dat...sounds like an adventure." Prime grinned, trying to imagine himself sitting down for supper with the Wallensteins. He'd been wondering what 'Bad Luck Chuck' was like since he was a child. But to actually see the man at home, interacting with his family? While not being held at gunpoint? That seemed like too much of a dizzy daydream. Just spending this time with Rosa was good enough. More than good enough. Seeing her smile and hearing her laugh in that unpolished way made Prime more pleased with himself than usual. There was a warm buzz in his chest that certainly hadn't been there when he'd walked out on the snuggled forms of Tommy and 'Zo that morning. "You t'ink dey could tolerate moi, I'd be happy to show."
Aware that they were attracting attention--and for once, it wasn't attention Prime was trying to attract--he shot her a wink and stepped away. The flow of students formed a quick space between them. "Enjoy you lecture, Petite. I see you after, eh?"
Once he saw her safely through the doors, he turned and made his way to the second-nearest bench. Close enough that he could see anything suspicious, far enough away that it wasn't obvious he was doing so. The time during her classes--when he didn't have time to leave, even though there was no real need to watch--could have been horrendous. Lots of time to think about how much closer Tommy was worming his way into 'Zo's heart without Prime there to interrupt their conversations and break 'Zo's eyes contact when she was staring too long, too adoringly at the way Tommy's stupid curls tickled his ears or the way the mechanic furrowed his brow when he read or--whatever it was she was fascinated with at any given moment. Lord help them all. Prime used the time well, though. He scanned the papers for any more information--about drug arrests or potential Strangler leads. He studied old notes and tried to take down new ones. He plotted where he and 'Zo would escape to next.
Today, however, Prime found himself distracted. He was thinking about why no one else used such a perfect sounding name as 'Rosa.' He considered which song he could play for her, if ever he got his hands on a six-string, that would appeal to her the most. What was that one? He could remember the tune, but not the name. It was low but sweet, moderately paced and meant to go with a solid thumping beat that you could feel in your chest.
"Prime?"
He looked up from the paper he hadn't been reading, blinking owlishly. A pair of round, pale-blue eyes, framed by springy red curls, peered back at him. He slowly folded the paper. "Clementine. What you doing here?"
"I go to school here, genius. And I wanted to catch Rosie outside her next class to ask her about a--thing. What are you doing here? I thought Uncle Chuck made it pretty damn clear-" Clem stopped, huffed, and pushed a few rogue curls back under her hat. "Where have you been? How's Tommy? I haven't heard a word from Mister Earthbound, I'm worried sick."
"He's alive."
"Gawd, you're reassuring. You should get a job in an emergency room. You could give apple butter like that to everyone that goes in and nobody that goes out. Would you stop with the cold front? It's making me goddamn frosted!" Clem put her hands at her hips and squared her shoulders. Prime leaned his head back, pursing his lips just the slightest bit.
With very deliberate movements, Prime retrieved a cigarette, tucked it into the corner of his mouth, and lit it with a match he struck off of his boot. "Him fingers ain't broken. I tell him to call. You want anyt'ing else?"
--------------------------------------------------------
The man who believed himself to be in charge howled in pain and clapped his hands over his face. 'Zo caught his elbow as he sagged to his knees, and wheeled him around to crash into his bespectacled companion. The scrawny man was so surprised that at first he simply caught his cohort. It took him only a few seconds to be fumbling in his jacket for a gun, or a knife, or whatever it was Savio's night guards carried. It took only a couple seconds for 'Zo to catch him in the Adam's apple with the hard edge of her fist. He gagged, stumbled back, dropped the pen-knife man.
Pen-knife was recovering with the aid of rage, and got up on one knee. He didn't make it to his feet before 'Zo landed her heel against his temple. He fell, and did not get back up. An elbow to the back of the small man's head had a similar effect. She took an extra second to search them for keys. Finally, a break came in the form of a small ring with several brass keys attached. None of them were labeled, but she would figure it out.
A gun fired, several stories down. 'Zo went rigid, then sprinted for the stairs. There was noise above--more guards, probably looking for more intruders. They wouldn't waste time searching for phantoms if there was an actual fight, though. She had to get down there, quickly, and rescue her rescuer before he was caught up in her mistake.
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Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Sun Jan 22, 2012 6:03 pm
Jacqui snorted with laughter at Teddy's suggestion that he could come with her the following morning when she went to meet Savio (or preferably, drop the package off and cut a hasty retreat).
"Like hell you are," she said. "He already knows you're useful for one thing, longhair. There's no need to put the idea into his head that you might be useful for anything else by making a guest appearance. You can wait in a cafe across the street or something."
Waving away his thanks with her newly unplastered hand, she drained the last of her tea and set the empty cup back down on the table. She was mildly surprised at his immediate response in the affirmative, though of course she didn't let a grain of that surprise show on her features. She'd been expecting a hesitant insistence that he should really call a cab before another flippant shooting-down of his qualms by her sharp tongue would cause him to fold. His final question was rather more in character, though she wasn't sure if he was asking whether she minded if he did or whether she wanted him to. To someone like Teddy, the two were probably synonymous. Precious.
"Don't worry, daddy-o," she said. "I ain't gonna waste my wrist on your face. It's messed-up enough." And that was the some total permission he was going to get. If he interpreted it in any other way, well, maybe he'd be less interested in sticking around after she'd dropped the details of the Bruyeres off to Savio and maybe she could leave without goodbyes.
Standing up, she stifled a yawn. If she'd stayed at the Gin Blossom, sleep would inevitably still be hours away though she'd probably not even notice how tired she was beginning to feel.
"I'm beat," she said, walking across the little sitting room into the adjoining bedroom. "Bed's in here, longhair." Opening the bottom drawer of her dresser, she bent down to retrieve a nightgown- a pale blue slip which she'd hacked the bottom off in order to make the New York summer nights and the stifling air of her apartment more bearable- then began to unabashedly remove items of clothing in order to put it on. Nightgown in place, she stood on her tiptoes to open the window and let a little cool air in.
At the sound of someone hurtling down the stairs in the opposite direction, Tommy immediately raised the barrel of his gun but instead of another heavy, found the slight figure of 'Zo appear at the top of the steps. He barely had time to be relieved before he'd turned back the way he'd come and, taking the stairs two at a time, joined her in her dash back down to the ground floor.
"You alright?" he said breathlessly as they landed at the bottom and he seized her hand to take her down the right-hand corridor, towards the door he'd come in through. "What happened?"
Tommy prayed this place didn't have two stairwells and that, since he'd dealt with the two gangsters that had obviously been sent to find him, their way back would be clear. Hopefully whoever was chasing 'Zo from upstairs hadn't thought to alert anyone lurking outside to their presence so they wouldn't emerge into the night to find themselves cornered. With luck, Mal would still be waiting in the car, ready to step on the gas as soon as they were inside.
There were an awful lot of maybes in all of that but Tommy tried not to think about them as he stepped over the unconscious forms of the men from a few minutes earlier and raced for the door, 'Zo beside him.
"Like hell you are," she said. "He already knows you're useful for one thing, longhair. There's no need to put the idea into his head that you might be useful for anything else by making a guest appearance. You can wait in a cafe across the street or something."
Waving away his thanks with her newly unplastered hand, she drained the last of her tea and set the empty cup back down on the table. She was mildly surprised at his immediate response in the affirmative, though of course she didn't let a grain of that surprise show on her features. She'd been expecting a hesitant insistence that he should really call a cab before another flippant shooting-down of his qualms by her sharp tongue would cause him to fold. His final question was rather more in character, though she wasn't sure if he was asking whether she minded if he did or whether she wanted him to. To someone like Teddy, the two were probably synonymous. Precious.
"Don't worry, daddy-o," she said. "I ain't gonna waste my wrist on your face. It's messed-up enough." And that was the some total permission he was going to get. If he interpreted it in any other way, well, maybe he'd be less interested in sticking around after she'd dropped the details of the Bruyeres off to Savio and maybe she could leave without goodbyes.
Standing up, she stifled a yawn. If she'd stayed at the Gin Blossom, sleep would inevitably still be hours away though she'd probably not even notice how tired she was beginning to feel.
"I'm beat," she said, walking across the little sitting room into the adjoining bedroom. "Bed's in here, longhair." Opening the bottom drawer of her dresser, she bent down to retrieve a nightgown- a pale blue slip which she'd hacked the bottom off in order to make the New York summer nights and the stifling air of her apartment more bearable- then began to unabashedly remove items of clothing in order to put it on. Nightgown in place, she stood on her tiptoes to open the window and let a little cool air in.
At the sound of someone hurtling down the stairs in the opposite direction, Tommy immediately raised the barrel of his gun but instead of another heavy, found the slight figure of 'Zo appear at the top of the steps. He barely had time to be relieved before he'd turned back the way he'd come and, taking the stairs two at a time, joined her in her dash back down to the ground floor.
"You alright?" he said breathlessly as they landed at the bottom and he seized her hand to take her down the right-hand corridor, towards the door he'd come in through. "What happened?"
Tommy prayed this place didn't have two stairwells and that, since he'd dealt with the two gangsters that had obviously been sent to find him, their way back would be clear. Hopefully whoever was chasing 'Zo from upstairs hadn't thought to alert anyone lurking outside to their presence so they wouldn't emerge into the night to find themselves cornered. With luck, Mal would still be waiting in the car, ready to step on the gas as soon as they were inside.
There were an awful lot of maybes in all of that but Tommy tried not to think about them as he stepped over the unconscious forms of the men from a few minutes earlier and raced for the door, 'Zo beside him.
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Tue Jan 24, 2012 3:51 am
Teddy opened his mouth to argue--what was the point in him coming at all if he couldn't be there with her, making sure Savio or his men didn't give her any trouble? But he shut his mouth again, accepting the terms for now. She might change her mind when the building loomed up in sight, and if it was taking a suspiciously long time he could always go in after her. As long as he was there. "Fine. You can leash me in the shadows if you want, but I am going. And I'm going in after you to drag you out kicking and screaming if it takes too long. Savio be damned."
She swayed off to the other room, leaving Teddy to sit alone at the table and slowly sip his tea and watch her change her clothes with all the tender shyness he had come to expect: none whatsoever.
A lot of things passed idly through Teddy's mind as he drained his cup, his eyes glued to Jacqui's distant figure. There was so much about Jacqui that just didn't make sense. Her form was all soft lines and pale colors, smooth and clean against the backdrop of her crummy apartment. Her skin looked pure. As if nothing bad had ever happened to it or on it. Everything about her was petite and just looked so...harmless. Just looking at her (especially when you couldn't see that sharp glint in her eyes) one would never expect to be stung with an acid tongue and razor wit. She was easily the most complicated woman he'd ever met.
Was that why he couldn't keep away? Where he couldn't even bring himself to talk to Dotty for more than ten minutes, he couldn't fathom simply lying next to Jacqui for an entire night. Was that ever going to fade? Ten years from now, if he found himself all set up and married to some nice 'square,' and Jacqui showed up and could still turn Teddy into some idiot on his knees, panting like some idiot dog desperate for a pat on its idiot head...God help him.
Had Jacqui ever...craved someone like that? Or did she just get her kicks snapping her fingers and bringing people to attention?
Teddy decided that he didn't care. He would when she was gone, no doubt stringing along some other hapless moron who couldn't help but want to hear her voice...even if it was being used to flagellate him...but until then he would just take whatever she was willing to grace him with. That made him the patsy, and he knew it, and he begrudged it at much as he could, but at this point, why bother fighting it? Eventually he would get tired of being someone's chew-toy. But again, eventually was a long ways off.
Thus resigned, Teddy left his jacket hanging off the back of his chair and his hat sitting all beat-up and abandoned on the table. His shoes found a safe enough home outside the door, and his socks stayed inside the shoes. One of his arms curved around the inviting slant of Jacqui's scant hips as the other reached up to easily nudge the window open for her. This put him in the perfect position to indulge in the smell of her skin by pressing his lips to the crook of her neck (he did) even while it occurred to him that it was maybe not too late to back off and leave, minimizing any future damage (he didn't).
----------------------------------------------------------
Clem bit her cheeks and made every ounce of her restraint sit on her tongue. She couldn't blow up at Prime, even though he was quite obviously trying to make her. She was trying to make amends, after all. "From you? Sort of. How's 'Zo?"
"Still alive."
Cold bastard. "And how are you?"
"Busy."
"Dammit, Prime, I'm trying to be civil!" Clem's fingers dug into the fabric at her hips, and she shot a scathing look at a nearby onlooker that sent them scurrying off with a nervous titter.
"And you doing a wonderful job." Prime raised his eyes as the massive clock tolled the hour, then folded his paper into little squares and tucked it away into his pocket. He stood up, stretched, and fixed Clementine with an aloof gaze. "I got to meet Rosa outside her class. You coming to talk to her?"
"What?"
"You said dere was somet'ing you wanted to ax her."
Clem hesitated, then pursed her lips and shook her head. "Forget it. I'll ask her later." Before Prime could respond (though she doubted he intended on doing so), Clem turned on her heel and marched off towards the library. Damn Cajun. She'd get him sweet on her again if it was the last thing she did!
-------------------------------------------------
'Zo nearly gasped with relief when she recognized the man on the other side of the latest gun to be shoved in her face. There was no time to stop and reconnoiter, though. He fell into stride with her, and she paused only to let him lead the way back out the building. Through the front door. She had honestly not seen that being a part of this particular job.
"I'm fine," 'Zo breathed in response as they ran, "Dere were--hf!--more of dem troopin' around dan I expected. I'm--hf!--sorry."
If there was time, she would have stopped them so she could get something over his head. Even though it was dark, his face was his identity. Even though New York was hardly the kind of little town where everybody knew everybody, she wasn't willing to underestimate Savio. He and his men had found the Bruyeres based solely off their name--which only a select few people knew in this city. Tommy's father held a lofty position in one of the best-known papers in the world. His mother was similarly unhidden. Tommy and his family could be found without too much trouble.
Being discovered after the fact, however, was not as important as escaping while they had the chance. It didn't matter who saw Tommy's face if he was chained to a radiator, surrounded by thugs.
'Zo's thoughts about how she had to get him safe--she had to--were joyously interrupted by evidence of his handiwork littering the little waiting room near the door. For just a moment she was comforted by the fact that he could take care of himself. And she could take care of herself. And there was the door, and they were sprinting out of it, and the lights of a car shot towards them. A split second of panic struck her, then she recognized the car Mal had obtained for their use. And that was Mal behind the wheel. They were just a few yards off. They were practically home free.
Someone was shouting at them to stop--pointless, really. The order was punctuated by the crack of a gun. 'Zo jumped, skittered a little to the side, as the pavement near her feet chipped up at the impact of the bullet. She kept running. Her hands slammed against the side of the car, and she managed to get the door open. She stopped to make sure Tommy was doing the same, as more shots shattered the summer heat around them.
She swayed off to the other room, leaving Teddy to sit alone at the table and slowly sip his tea and watch her change her clothes with all the tender shyness he had come to expect: none whatsoever.
A lot of things passed idly through Teddy's mind as he drained his cup, his eyes glued to Jacqui's distant figure. There was so much about Jacqui that just didn't make sense. Her form was all soft lines and pale colors, smooth and clean against the backdrop of her crummy apartment. Her skin looked pure. As if nothing bad had ever happened to it or on it. Everything about her was petite and just looked so...harmless. Just looking at her (especially when you couldn't see that sharp glint in her eyes) one would never expect to be stung with an acid tongue and razor wit. She was easily the most complicated woman he'd ever met.
Was that why he couldn't keep away? Where he couldn't even bring himself to talk to Dotty for more than ten minutes, he couldn't fathom simply lying next to Jacqui for an entire night. Was that ever going to fade? Ten years from now, if he found himself all set up and married to some nice 'square,' and Jacqui showed up and could still turn Teddy into some idiot on his knees, panting like some idiot dog desperate for a pat on its idiot head...God help him.
Had Jacqui ever...craved someone like that? Or did she just get her kicks snapping her fingers and bringing people to attention?
Teddy decided that he didn't care. He would when she was gone, no doubt stringing along some other hapless moron who couldn't help but want to hear her voice...even if it was being used to flagellate him...but until then he would just take whatever she was willing to grace him with. That made him the patsy, and he knew it, and he begrudged it at much as he could, but at this point, why bother fighting it? Eventually he would get tired of being someone's chew-toy. But again, eventually was a long ways off.
Thus resigned, Teddy left his jacket hanging off the back of his chair and his hat sitting all beat-up and abandoned on the table. His shoes found a safe enough home outside the door, and his socks stayed inside the shoes. One of his arms curved around the inviting slant of Jacqui's scant hips as the other reached up to easily nudge the window open for her. This put him in the perfect position to indulge in the smell of her skin by pressing his lips to the crook of her neck (he did) even while it occurred to him that it was maybe not too late to back off and leave, minimizing any future damage (he didn't).
----------------------------------------------------------
Clem bit her cheeks and made every ounce of her restraint sit on her tongue. She couldn't blow up at Prime, even though he was quite obviously trying to make her. She was trying to make amends, after all. "From you? Sort of. How's 'Zo?"
"Still alive."
Cold bastard. "And how are you?"
"Busy."
"Dammit, Prime, I'm trying to be civil!" Clem's fingers dug into the fabric at her hips, and she shot a scathing look at a nearby onlooker that sent them scurrying off with a nervous titter.
"And you doing a wonderful job." Prime raised his eyes as the massive clock tolled the hour, then folded his paper into little squares and tucked it away into his pocket. He stood up, stretched, and fixed Clementine with an aloof gaze. "I got to meet Rosa outside her class. You coming to talk to her?"
"What?"
"You said dere was somet'ing you wanted to ax her."
Clem hesitated, then pursed her lips and shook her head. "Forget it. I'll ask her later." Before Prime could respond (though she doubted he intended on doing so), Clem turned on her heel and marched off towards the library. Damn Cajun. She'd get him sweet on her again if it was the last thing she did!
-------------------------------------------------
'Zo nearly gasped with relief when she recognized the man on the other side of the latest gun to be shoved in her face. There was no time to stop and reconnoiter, though. He fell into stride with her, and she paused only to let him lead the way back out the building. Through the front door. She had honestly not seen that being a part of this particular job.
"I'm fine," 'Zo breathed in response as they ran, "Dere were--hf!--more of dem troopin' around dan I expected. I'm--hf!--sorry."
If there was time, she would have stopped them so she could get something over his head. Even though it was dark, his face was his identity. Even though New York was hardly the kind of little town where everybody knew everybody, she wasn't willing to underestimate Savio. He and his men had found the Bruyeres based solely off their name--which only a select few people knew in this city. Tommy's father held a lofty position in one of the best-known papers in the world. His mother was similarly unhidden. Tommy and his family could be found without too much trouble.
Being discovered after the fact, however, was not as important as escaping while they had the chance. It didn't matter who saw Tommy's face if he was chained to a radiator, surrounded by thugs.
'Zo's thoughts about how she had to get him safe--she had to--were joyously interrupted by evidence of his handiwork littering the little waiting room near the door. For just a moment she was comforted by the fact that he could take care of himself. And she could take care of herself. And there was the door, and they were sprinting out of it, and the lights of a car shot towards them. A split second of panic struck her, then she recognized the car Mal had obtained for their use. And that was Mal behind the wheel. They were just a few yards off. They were practically home free.
Someone was shouting at them to stop--pointless, really. The order was punctuated by the crack of a gun. 'Zo jumped, skittered a little to the side, as the pavement near her feet chipped up at the impact of the bullet. She kept running. Her hands slammed against the side of the car, and she managed to get the door open. She stopped to make sure Tommy was doing the same, as more shots shattered the summer heat around them.
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Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Sun Jan 29, 2012 1:17 pm
Jacqui felt the not-unexpected touch of Teddy's lips on her neck and deftly turned in his arms to face him. She even allowed him a half-smile before slipping away and stepping over to the bed, drawing back the quilt to dump it over the end of the frame and sliding in between the cool sheets. The springs on the ancient bed jangled and she shimmed close to the wall to give him some space to follow her. The business outside the Gin Blossom, the snapping blaze of words that she'd directed at Teddy and the actual voicing of her plans to leave the city for good (until now they'd always been an mentally-formed intention, but nothing more than that) had oddly tired her out and all she was going to do now was attempt to recapture some of the deep dream-obliterating sleep she'd achieved the last time she'd shared a bed with Teddy. Except without the prelude. She'd make him wait until morning for that.
"Time to pile up some Zs, longhair," she said, her voice already muffled by the pillow.
"Saving your ass from trouble-boys in alleyways sure takes it outta a girl..." she added, before determinedly finding an appropriate spot that meant her cheek didn't jar against his collarbone. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the city filter in through the open window; the far-off whine of a siren and the vague echoing clatter of something dislodging another something from somewhere out in the street. A little while later, slowly they all drifted away and she sank into sleep.
Tommy staggered violently as a bullet rebounded from the concrete but managed to wrench the back door open with one hand and half-lunge, half-fall inside. He didn't even have time to shut the door before the car leapt forward and they accelerated down the darkened street. 'Zo was in the passenger seat directly in front of him and, as far as he could tell, she was OK.
Once this was certain, once he'd seen her turn and speak to him, he allowed himself to let out the gasp he'd been keeping in and brought his hand back from the bullet wound in his thigh. The dark thick blood that now coated his fingers leached into the fabric of his trousers and dripped onto the leather seat cover. The pain, which hadn't seemed to matter whilst he was still outside the car and at risk of acquiring a second bullet, now came over him in waves, ebbing out from his thigh and making him feel dizzy and nauseous. He fumbled in his pocket for his handkerchief and pressed it with as much force as he could to his leg.
Biting his lip, he remained as quiet as possible until he could be sure they were out of danger. It would have only taken a few seconds for Savio's men to get into cars of their own once they'd realised that he and 'Zo had a get-away driver waiting for them and at any moment he expected the roar of another engine to accompany the sound of their own, the screech of tyres punctuated by more gunshots. Through the agony of the wound in his thigh, he wished it had been he, rather than Mal, sitting in the driver's seat; the frustration at being able to do nothing but sit in the back and try to stop from passing out was almost unbearable.
"Time to pile up some Zs, longhair," she said, her voice already muffled by the pillow.
"Saving your ass from trouble-boys in alleyways sure takes it outta a girl..." she added, before determinedly finding an appropriate spot that meant her cheek didn't jar against his collarbone. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the city filter in through the open window; the far-off whine of a siren and the vague echoing clatter of something dislodging another something from somewhere out in the street. A little while later, slowly they all drifted away and she sank into sleep.
Tommy staggered violently as a bullet rebounded from the concrete but managed to wrench the back door open with one hand and half-lunge, half-fall inside. He didn't even have time to shut the door before the car leapt forward and they accelerated down the darkened street. 'Zo was in the passenger seat directly in front of him and, as far as he could tell, she was OK.
Once this was certain, once he'd seen her turn and speak to him, he allowed himself to let out the gasp he'd been keeping in and brought his hand back from the bullet wound in his thigh. The dark thick blood that now coated his fingers leached into the fabric of his trousers and dripped onto the leather seat cover. The pain, which hadn't seemed to matter whilst he was still outside the car and at risk of acquiring a second bullet, now came over him in waves, ebbing out from his thigh and making him feel dizzy and nauseous. He fumbled in his pocket for his handkerchief and pressed it with as much force as he could to his leg.
Biting his lip, he remained as quiet as possible until he could be sure they were out of danger. It would have only taken a few seconds for Savio's men to get into cars of their own once they'd realised that he and 'Zo had a get-away driver waiting for them and at any moment he expected the roar of another engine to accompany the sound of their own, the screech of tyres punctuated by more gunshots. Through the agony of the wound in his thigh, he wished it had been he, rather than Mal, sitting in the driver's seat; the frustration at being able to do nothing but sit in the back and try to stop from passing out was almost unbearable.
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Mon Jan 30, 2012 12:03 pm
Teddy, a faint grin stamped across his features, followed Jacqui's suit by changing out of his day-clothes. Of course, 'changing' implied that he had something to change into. Since he didn't (he hadn't expected the night to go quite as it had) he folded up what he had and set them neatly to one side. This left the twisted old scar on his back in plain view. He, unusually, didn't even think of it. More importantly, the tidy arrangement of his clothes looked badly out of place with the background of slightly ripped wallpaper and rickety, overused furniture. So much so that he almost went back to rearrange the clothes in a heap.
Instead, he followed after Jacqui, easing himself between the sheets and very aware of every creak the coils beneath him made. This night had been awkward enough without the bed snapping in twain. But what was he really worried about? It wasn't like he was the first...guest...to share the squeaky mattress.
That disconcerting thought wasn't enough to prevent him from wrapping his arms around her the second he was able. The weight of her head on his chest was comfortable. His hands at the small of her back and draping around her right shoulder were even more so. He snorted at her last jab. "Yeah, guess you did have the tiring part of that deal...Sorry for the inconvenience. Next time, you got my permission to leave me in the gutter. Don't want you losing sleep on my account..."
They lapsed into silence then. Teddy struggled to find sleep, but it was too nice, listening to the sound of her sleeping breaths and the little sounds she made as she took them. It was for the best that she left the city. The best for everyone, but especially for her. Still, he couldn't help but dread the day when she'd hop onto a train or whatever she chose and took off. Would she ever come back? What was he going to do when she left? When he couldn't get his fix of those falcon-sharp eyes and that cruel mouth. 'Best' be damned. He didn't want her to disappear. She would inevitably get tired of him anyway, and what he wanted mattered about as much as the price of rice in China, but still...
With such counter-productive thoughts swirling around in his head, Teddy remained wide-eyed and awake until what he thought was morning. Eventually, though, he must have fallen asleep, because all at once he was waking up and getting an eyeful of Jacqui's dark blond hair. He pulled his head back, blinking rapidly to clear away the stinging sensation. Then he stared blearily around the room, caught off guard by his lack of sleep recall. He swept one hand across his face, grimacing, then bent his head and pressed a lingering kiss to Jacqui's temple. She seemed to still be asleep. He could get away with it.
This done, he gingerly extracted himself and half-stumbled over to the washroom, where he held his head under a running faucet of cold water. Hopefully Jacqui would wake up having thought better about seeing Savio alone. If not...
The cold water wasn't helping his sudden headache. Teddy swiped at his face with his forearm and stalked back out to the kitchen. He reclaimed his chair from the night before, and picked up the envelope. He shook out one of the photos. There was something so...familiar about the Bruyeres. Yes, he had been following them for...longer than was probably healthy, but there was something else. He had never been to or known anyone from Louisiana, though. One of Teddy's old army buddy's had been Southern, but that was the closest connection he could think of. So what was that nagging familiarity?
"Who the hell are you?" Teddy murmured at the photo, knowing it wouldn't answer.
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'Zo leaned out the window as the tires screeched and bore them away, ready to fire on any pursuers. She got a few shots off that chased the watchmen back into the office building, and then they were out of sight. Mal was a good driver--maybe not on par with Tommy or Prime but good enough to handle whatever shady business he found himself mixed up in. On this night, it just happened to be theirs.
'Zo could hardly believe it. After such a botched break-in, had they really made it away? Not only had they escaped, but she had found something that could prove priceless in their bid to get Savio off their backs. Now that the break-in was known, the little guidebook would have to be used carefully, but now they had a better idea of how Savio handled his affairs...for the first time since that incident with John, things seemed to be going right.
Tommy gasped in the back seat. Frowning, 'Zo got up on her knees and looked back at him.
Everything froze.
Blood--a lot of it--stained his hands, his jeans, the seat. His posture was rigid. His palor was fading. A strangled sound escaped 'Zo's lips, and she felt her fingers clutch at the seat beneath her. No. That wasn't possible. It wasn't fair. Tommy couldn't be hurt--not that badly, not at all--just because he'd gone in to get her out of a simple scouting job.
"Keep driving!" 'Zo croaked at Mal, before forcing her limbs into action. She couldn't afford to freeze up in a panic. Tommy couldn't afford it. She squeezed through the space between the top of her seat and the roof of the car and yanked the mask off of her head so she could press it down of the kerchief Tommy was using to staunch the flow of blood. Her fingers were shaking so badly she almost missed. "Hold on, Beb, hold on..."
What could she do? This didn't look like a flesh wound. He was losing so much blood. Too much. What would Prime do? Probably get them back to the hotel room and patch him up as best as he could. That was what they always did. But it wasn't good enough--not this time. What if something important had been hit? What if he lost his leg? What if it got infected? Those weren't risks 'Zo was willing to take. Not when there were other options.
Hospital. They had to get to a hospital. Savio could track them down that way--even in a city as big as New York there could only be so many gunshot wounds. And showing up with a shot friend and dressed the way she was would give rise to certain questions that couldn't be answered. There would be police. There would probably be handcuffs. Terrifying as the thought of being placed on the grid after all these years was, the thought of losing Tommy swatted it away like a bear swatting a mouse.
"Alright," 'Zo said, her mind made up. Her voice was shaking, but that couldn't be helped. She lifted one hand--the other still clamped down over Tommy's against the wound--and caught Tommy's face. She met his eyes, aware that her own were distinctly wet. "Listen, Beb, we're gone get you to a hospital. We'll use dose papers you gave moi so dey won't get you real name--you and you family will be safe. D'accord? You understand moi? Just keep breathing. Breathe. Mal! Get us to da hospital!"
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Clem raced up the familiar steps leading to the Wallenstein house, her books tucked up under her arm. She had to talk to Rosie, and she had to get home quickly. Alex was bringing another 'friend' over tonight. In his call home, he had begged their mother not to behave the way she had last time this 'friend' had visited--by launching into lengthy, giggling exchanges of past conquests. Jo, of course, had replied by grinning and clapping her hands and exclaiming that she just adored Virginia, and it was about time Alex brought her over again, and what should they have for dinner? Oh, she was going to go out right now and get a proper bottle of wine. It was so nice having a guest over who liked hearing about why the twenties were roarin'.
Clem couldn't miss out on all that. Seeing Alex's rather hypocritical suffering was just too entertaining.
When she reached the door, Clem paused. Someone was laughing a new hole into their head in there. Wally saw her through the door and let her in, and she watched as Charlie staggered out of the sitting room, wiping a few tears of mirth from his eyes.
"S-sure, Honey!" Charlie paused, leaning against the banister to catch his breath and laugh some more. "Your little--ha!--your little friend with the pagan tattoos can come over for dinner. Haha! When d'ya think he'll show up? Stroke of midnight, right? Should we--hehe--should we leave a window open so he can fly in? Or d'ya think he'll come down the chimney?"
"Come on, Pop," Wally said, casting a weary glance at Clementine, whose brows had remained raised in surprise.
"Oh, Lawd, I needed that," Charlie said, grinning so hard it was starting to hurt.
"What's so funny?" Clem asked.
"Oh, nothing, kiddo. Dotty Rose wants to invite-" Charlie stopped himself with another round of helpless chuckles, "to invite that Bruyere kid over for supper. You know. The taller one. Who looks like he might've eaten her last boyfriend."
"I don't get the gag." Clem looked over at Rosie, as Wally shrugged.
"Oh, come on," Charlie snorted, "he ain't exactly in the crowd Dotty runs with. Right, Sweetpea?" He grinned again and shook his head. "You really want him over, though, yeah, call him up tell him to drop by. Sounds like an adventure."
Still laughing, Charlie disappeared down the hall leading towards the kitchen. Wally cleared his throat and leaned towards his sister, whispering loudly, "I think he thinks you're joking."
Instead, he followed after Jacqui, easing himself between the sheets and very aware of every creak the coils beneath him made. This night had been awkward enough without the bed snapping in twain. But what was he really worried about? It wasn't like he was the first...guest...to share the squeaky mattress.
That disconcerting thought wasn't enough to prevent him from wrapping his arms around her the second he was able. The weight of her head on his chest was comfortable. His hands at the small of her back and draping around her right shoulder were even more so. He snorted at her last jab. "Yeah, guess you did have the tiring part of that deal...Sorry for the inconvenience. Next time, you got my permission to leave me in the gutter. Don't want you losing sleep on my account..."
They lapsed into silence then. Teddy struggled to find sleep, but it was too nice, listening to the sound of her sleeping breaths and the little sounds she made as she took them. It was for the best that she left the city. The best for everyone, but especially for her. Still, he couldn't help but dread the day when she'd hop onto a train or whatever she chose and took off. Would she ever come back? What was he going to do when she left? When he couldn't get his fix of those falcon-sharp eyes and that cruel mouth. 'Best' be damned. He didn't want her to disappear. She would inevitably get tired of him anyway, and what he wanted mattered about as much as the price of rice in China, but still...
With such counter-productive thoughts swirling around in his head, Teddy remained wide-eyed and awake until what he thought was morning. Eventually, though, he must have fallen asleep, because all at once he was waking up and getting an eyeful of Jacqui's dark blond hair. He pulled his head back, blinking rapidly to clear away the stinging sensation. Then he stared blearily around the room, caught off guard by his lack of sleep recall. He swept one hand across his face, grimacing, then bent his head and pressed a lingering kiss to Jacqui's temple. She seemed to still be asleep. He could get away with it.
This done, he gingerly extracted himself and half-stumbled over to the washroom, where he held his head under a running faucet of cold water. Hopefully Jacqui would wake up having thought better about seeing Savio alone. If not...
The cold water wasn't helping his sudden headache. Teddy swiped at his face with his forearm and stalked back out to the kitchen. He reclaimed his chair from the night before, and picked up the envelope. He shook out one of the photos. There was something so...familiar about the Bruyeres. Yes, he had been following them for...longer than was probably healthy, but there was something else. He had never been to or known anyone from Louisiana, though. One of Teddy's old army buddy's had been Southern, but that was the closest connection he could think of. So what was that nagging familiarity?
"Who the hell are you?" Teddy murmured at the photo, knowing it wouldn't answer.
----------------------------------------------
'Zo leaned out the window as the tires screeched and bore them away, ready to fire on any pursuers. She got a few shots off that chased the watchmen back into the office building, and then they were out of sight. Mal was a good driver--maybe not on par with Tommy or Prime but good enough to handle whatever shady business he found himself mixed up in. On this night, it just happened to be theirs.
'Zo could hardly believe it. After such a botched break-in, had they really made it away? Not only had they escaped, but she had found something that could prove priceless in their bid to get Savio off their backs. Now that the break-in was known, the little guidebook would have to be used carefully, but now they had a better idea of how Savio handled his affairs...for the first time since that incident with John, things seemed to be going right.
Tommy gasped in the back seat. Frowning, 'Zo got up on her knees and looked back at him.
Everything froze.
Blood--a lot of it--stained his hands, his jeans, the seat. His posture was rigid. His palor was fading. A strangled sound escaped 'Zo's lips, and she felt her fingers clutch at the seat beneath her. No. That wasn't possible. It wasn't fair. Tommy couldn't be hurt--not that badly, not at all--just because he'd gone in to get her out of a simple scouting job.
"Keep driving!" 'Zo croaked at Mal, before forcing her limbs into action. She couldn't afford to freeze up in a panic. Tommy couldn't afford it. She squeezed through the space between the top of her seat and the roof of the car and yanked the mask off of her head so she could press it down of the kerchief Tommy was using to staunch the flow of blood. Her fingers were shaking so badly she almost missed. "Hold on, Beb, hold on..."
What could she do? This didn't look like a flesh wound. He was losing so much blood. Too much. What would Prime do? Probably get them back to the hotel room and patch him up as best as he could. That was what they always did. But it wasn't good enough--not this time. What if something important had been hit? What if he lost his leg? What if it got infected? Those weren't risks 'Zo was willing to take. Not when there were other options.
Hospital. They had to get to a hospital. Savio could track them down that way--even in a city as big as New York there could only be so many gunshot wounds. And showing up with a shot friend and dressed the way she was would give rise to certain questions that couldn't be answered. There would be police. There would probably be handcuffs. Terrifying as the thought of being placed on the grid after all these years was, the thought of losing Tommy swatted it away like a bear swatting a mouse.
"Alright," 'Zo said, her mind made up. Her voice was shaking, but that couldn't be helped. She lifted one hand--the other still clamped down over Tommy's against the wound--and caught Tommy's face. She met his eyes, aware that her own were distinctly wet. "Listen, Beb, we're gone get you to a hospital. We'll use dose papers you gave moi so dey won't get you real name--you and you family will be safe. D'accord? You understand moi? Just keep breathing. Breathe. Mal! Get us to da hospital!"
----------------------------------------------
Clem raced up the familiar steps leading to the Wallenstein house, her books tucked up under her arm. She had to talk to Rosie, and she had to get home quickly. Alex was bringing another 'friend' over tonight. In his call home, he had begged their mother not to behave the way she had last time this 'friend' had visited--by launching into lengthy, giggling exchanges of past conquests. Jo, of course, had replied by grinning and clapping her hands and exclaiming that she just adored Virginia, and it was about time Alex brought her over again, and what should they have for dinner? Oh, she was going to go out right now and get a proper bottle of wine. It was so nice having a guest over who liked hearing about why the twenties were roarin'.
Clem couldn't miss out on all that. Seeing Alex's rather hypocritical suffering was just too entertaining.
When she reached the door, Clem paused. Someone was laughing a new hole into their head in there. Wally saw her through the door and let her in, and she watched as Charlie staggered out of the sitting room, wiping a few tears of mirth from his eyes.
"S-sure, Honey!" Charlie paused, leaning against the banister to catch his breath and laugh some more. "Your little--ha!--your little friend with the pagan tattoos can come over for dinner. Haha! When d'ya think he'll show up? Stroke of midnight, right? Should we--hehe--should we leave a window open so he can fly in? Or d'ya think he'll come down the chimney?"
"Come on, Pop," Wally said, casting a weary glance at Clementine, whose brows had remained raised in surprise.
"Oh, Lawd, I needed that," Charlie said, grinning so hard it was starting to hurt.
"What's so funny?" Clem asked.
"Oh, nothing, kiddo. Dotty Rose wants to invite-" Charlie stopped himself with another round of helpless chuckles, "to invite that Bruyere kid over for supper. You know. The taller one. Who looks like he might've eaten her last boyfriend."
"I don't get the gag." Clem looked over at Rosie, as Wally shrugged.
"Oh, come on," Charlie snorted, "he ain't exactly in the crowd Dotty runs with. Right, Sweetpea?" He grinned again and shook his head. "You really want him over, though, yeah, call him up tell him to drop by. Sounds like an adventure."
Still laughing, Charlie disappeared down the hall leading towards the kitchen. Wally cleared his throat and leaned towards his sister, whispering loudly, "I think he thinks you're joking."
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Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Fri Feb 03, 2012 5:46 pm
When Jacqui woke up, she woke up alone. One hazel eye opened and flickered over the narrow space in the bed next to her in case she'd mistaken the lack of close warmth and the feel of another's bare skin on her own. But of course she hadn't and the couple of feet of sheet between her and the edge of the mattress was unoccupied, though the vague imprint of someone else was written in the folds of white cotton.
For a few moments, it was as if a cog somewhere inside had ground to a halt, bringing everything else to a standstill too, and she stared uselessly at the empty bed, wondering why he'd bothered to stay the night at all. Maybe he hadn't, maybe he'd even left just after she'd gone to sleep. Well, as her mind rushed furiously in to kick it all into action again, it would make things a lot easier-
The sound of a chair on floorboards came from beyond the doorway that led to the kitchen-cum-living room and Jacqui rolled her eyes. Of course, Teddy wasn't about to leave... He'd made it this far; his conscience would hardly allow him to ditch her now and not watch from a cafe across the street whilst she dropped the photos off at Savio's (or whatever he intended to do). Not to mention there were still plenty of kicks to be had with her before she split for the West Coast...
Rubbing her eyes with the knuckles of one hand, she levered herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The sun had been up long ago and its rays streaked through the crack in the curtains across the grain of the wooden floor. It was already warm and the blazing blue sky outside suggested the day might be one of the hottest yet. Once she'd been to see Savio, once she'd phoned around someone who could sublet her apartment, maybe even buy some of her furniture, she'd go and laze around in the shade in Central Park- see if Teddy could spare some time off his P.I gig- until the air began to grow chilly.
Padding through her tiny apartment, Jacqui announced her entrance to the room where Teddy sat with a yawn.
"Coffee?" she said, heading for the stove. "What'cha lookin' at that for?" she added, when she saw the picture that lay in front of him on the table.
Too late, Tommy realised that 'Zo knew there was something wrong. She slipped through the gap between the seat and roof of the car as Tommy watched blearily, guilty that he hadn't been able to keep the injury from her until they were out of danger but shamefully glad that she was there beside him, pressing the fabric of her mask to stem the blood and touching his face with her free hand and-
"What-? No!" he breathed, once the jumble of words she'd spoken rearranged themselves into a comprehensible sentence inside his pain-savaged brain. "No, just- Drop me off then leave. I'll- Make something up. Fake name. Shot myself by accident whilst taking- apart to clean. I'll be fine," he said fiercely, trying his best to lock his gaze on hers to make her see that what he was saying was true. Except he was having trouble keeping his focus...
"I'll be fine," he repeated. Glancing down, his handkerchief was almost soaked through but at least the blood didn't seemed to be coming as quickly now. He didn't understand why 'Zo was crying, he was telling the truth. He'd be fine. He'd seen men pull through far worse than this back in Belgium. It was just a little ironic that he'd escaped the war with nothing more than a few scratches and it had taken a stray bullet from a New York gang member to give him his first serious injury.
"Leave a message with- Ben and Jo. I'll find you again."
((Will edit- about to go to bed but I thought I'd get this much up before I did!))
For a few moments, it was as if a cog somewhere inside had ground to a halt, bringing everything else to a standstill too, and she stared uselessly at the empty bed, wondering why he'd bothered to stay the night at all. Maybe he hadn't, maybe he'd even left just after she'd gone to sleep. Well, as her mind rushed furiously in to kick it all into action again, it would make things a lot easier-
The sound of a chair on floorboards came from beyond the doorway that led to the kitchen-cum-living room and Jacqui rolled her eyes. Of course, Teddy wasn't about to leave... He'd made it this far; his conscience would hardly allow him to ditch her now and not watch from a cafe across the street whilst she dropped the photos off at Savio's (or whatever he intended to do). Not to mention there were still plenty of kicks to be had with her before she split for the West Coast...
Rubbing her eyes with the knuckles of one hand, she levered herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The sun had been up long ago and its rays streaked through the crack in the curtains across the grain of the wooden floor. It was already warm and the blazing blue sky outside suggested the day might be one of the hottest yet. Once she'd been to see Savio, once she'd phoned around someone who could sublet her apartment, maybe even buy some of her furniture, she'd go and laze around in the shade in Central Park- see if Teddy could spare some time off his P.I gig- until the air began to grow chilly.
Padding through her tiny apartment, Jacqui announced her entrance to the room where Teddy sat with a yawn.
"Coffee?" she said, heading for the stove. "What'cha lookin' at that for?" she added, when she saw the picture that lay in front of him on the table.
Too late, Tommy realised that 'Zo knew there was something wrong. She slipped through the gap between the seat and roof of the car as Tommy watched blearily, guilty that he hadn't been able to keep the injury from her until they were out of danger but shamefully glad that she was there beside him, pressing the fabric of her mask to stem the blood and touching his face with her free hand and-
"What-? No!" he breathed, once the jumble of words she'd spoken rearranged themselves into a comprehensible sentence inside his pain-savaged brain. "No, just- Drop me off then leave. I'll- Make something up. Fake name. Shot myself by accident whilst taking- apart to clean. I'll be fine," he said fiercely, trying his best to lock his gaze on hers to make her see that what he was saying was true. Except he was having trouble keeping his focus...
"I'll be fine," he repeated. Glancing down, his handkerchief was almost soaked through but at least the blood didn't seemed to be coming as quickly now. He didn't understand why 'Zo was crying, he was telling the truth. He'd be fine. He'd seen men pull through far worse than this back in Belgium. It was just a little ironic that he'd escaped the war with nothing more than a few scratches and it had taken a stray bullet from a New York gang member to give him his first serious injury.
"Leave a message with- Ben and Jo. I'll find you again."
((Will edit- about to go to bed but I thought I'd get this much up before I did!))
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Sat Feb 04, 2012 12:50 am
Teddy looked up with a little jerk, as if he'd forgotten there were anyone else in the place to begin with. It was just Jacqui, of course, looking so appealingly ruffled that it took his mind off of the Bruyeres for a second. "Yeah...thanks."
He watched her with a rather unreserved stare for a few seconds. The lioness prowling around her own den, nosing through her cupboards in search of coffee to brew, giving a pair of mugs a cursory glance before deeming them drinkable. The little pale-blue number she'd worn to bed had miraculously survived one more night (with him pawing at it, no less) and now drifted around her slim figure in a way that seemed far too innocent for anything related to Jacqui.
"And, I..." Teddy forced himself to look back down at the picture. He frowned, his thumb beating a quiet tattoo on the tabletop. "I don't know. There's been something kinda off about these two since they showed up. Aside from the cloak-and-dagger murder-mystery schtick."
His eyes drifted across their faces--no more than an inch across, on the picture--and he exhaled slowly. Those high cheekbones, those full mouths...especially the girl. But why? Why did they bug his memory so much?
"I feel like I've seen 'em before somewhere. But I'd damn well recognize them if I had. It's the weirdest sense of deja vu." Teddy looked back up at her (particularly the lines of her shoulder blades visible around the hem of the nightgown) and nudged the photo in her direction. "You ever had that?"
----------------------------------------
'Zo met Tommy's fading gaze first with disbelief, then, briefly, outrage, and finally with a fiery determination of her own. Since she wasn't the one suffering from blood loss and shock, her stare held more water. His head was starting to loll, even as he spoke. 'Zo found his jaw again and helped him look back in her direction. She shook her head.
"No. No, you won't find me again. You won't ever have to find me again. Because I'm not leaving you, Tommy. Never again!" She shifted her hand to swipe away a bead of sweat that was forming on his brow, then brushed a few curls back from his face. She meant it. She had never meant anything more. Tommy had stuck by her--followed her, put up with her running and pushing him away and all of the danger and the sneaking and the over-protectiveness of Prime. She hadn't been there when he'd needed her before. She was damn well going to be here for him now.
And every moment in the future.
"Mal!" 'Zo called, twisting to speak over her shoulder. "Take us to da hospital. I get Tommy inside. You go and get Prime. Tell him what happen, tell him to call da Goldbergs. Have him tell dem to look for-" She paused, glancing uneasily back at Tommy. It would be easier--safer--if they used the papers he'd intended for her and Prime. If there was some 'proof' about whatever story they told. Her grip tightened on the shoulder of his jacket. They could compromise, for now. "Johnny Green."
This done, 'Zo returned her full attention to Tommy. The car swerved under Mal's skilful hand, and she braced herself against the back seat. Adrenaline was starting to make her feel sick. 'Zo doubled the pressure on Tommy's leg and found his eyes again. "You'll be alright. Just hold on, Beb. Hold on."
It was unusual for the Bruyeres to be in any government-bound institution. Twice in one month? It was a record. And in the same institution, no less. Prime just hoped that most of the staff was different from the last time they'd been in there. At least that cop wasn't likely to be around. He would undoubtedly recognize 'Zo, even without that dark wig she'd been wearing.
Trying to look as nonchalant as he could (not an easy nor familiar goal), Prime wound his way through the hospital halls. There was a bag draped across his shoulder--a change of clothes for both Tommy and 'Zo as well as a wad of bribery funds. Just in case. With any luck, he would reach Tommy's--Johnny's--room before anyone started asking questions. Before 'Zo got handcuffed to a chair so that the questions could be asked properly.
He should have been with them that night. He should have helped plan the damn thing. From what Mal said, a few inches difference and Prime would have found himself sneaking into the morgue. And possibly not even for Tommy.
An odd, weary calm had overtaken Prime after the initial panic at seeing Mal arrive alone. Now, he just had to get the two lovebirds out.
He watched her with a rather unreserved stare for a few seconds. The lioness prowling around her own den, nosing through her cupboards in search of coffee to brew, giving a pair of mugs a cursory glance before deeming them drinkable. The little pale-blue number she'd worn to bed had miraculously survived one more night (with him pawing at it, no less) and now drifted around her slim figure in a way that seemed far too innocent for anything related to Jacqui.
"And, I..." Teddy forced himself to look back down at the picture. He frowned, his thumb beating a quiet tattoo on the tabletop. "I don't know. There's been something kinda off about these two since they showed up. Aside from the cloak-and-dagger murder-mystery schtick."
His eyes drifted across their faces--no more than an inch across, on the picture--and he exhaled slowly. Those high cheekbones, those full mouths...especially the girl. But why? Why did they bug his memory so much?
"I feel like I've seen 'em before somewhere. But I'd damn well recognize them if I had. It's the weirdest sense of deja vu." Teddy looked back up at her (particularly the lines of her shoulder blades visible around the hem of the nightgown) and nudged the photo in her direction. "You ever had that?"
----------------------------------------
'Zo met Tommy's fading gaze first with disbelief, then, briefly, outrage, and finally with a fiery determination of her own. Since she wasn't the one suffering from blood loss and shock, her stare held more water. His head was starting to loll, even as he spoke. 'Zo found his jaw again and helped him look back in her direction. She shook her head.
"No. No, you won't find me again. You won't ever have to find me again. Because I'm not leaving you, Tommy. Never again!" She shifted her hand to swipe away a bead of sweat that was forming on his brow, then brushed a few curls back from his face. She meant it. She had never meant anything more. Tommy had stuck by her--followed her, put up with her running and pushing him away and all of the danger and the sneaking and the over-protectiveness of Prime. She hadn't been there when he'd needed her before. She was damn well going to be here for him now.
And every moment in the future.
"Mal!" 'Zo called, twisting to speak over her shoulder. "Take us to da hospital. I get Tommy inside. You go and get Prime. Tell him what happen, tell him to call da Goldbergs. Have him tell dem to look for-" She paused, glancing uneasily back at Tommy. It would be easier--safer--if they used the papers he'd intended for her and Prime. If there was some 'proof' about whatever story they told. Her grip tightened on the shoulder of his jacket. They could compromise, for now. "Johnny Green."
This done, 'Zo returned her full attention to Tommy. The car swerved under Mal's skilful hand, and she braced herself against the back seat. Adrenaline was starting to make her feel sick. 'Zo doubled the pressure on Tommy's leg and found his eyes again. "You'll be alright. Just hold on, Beb. Hold on."
It was unusual for the Bruyeres to be in any government-bound institution. Twice in one month? It was a record. And in the same institution, no less. Prime just hoped that most of the staff was different from the last time they'd been in there. At least that cop wasn't likely to be around. He would undoubtedly recognize 'Zo, even without that dark wig she'd been wearing.
Trying to look as nonchalant as he could (not an easy nor familiar goal), Prime wound his way through the hospital halls. There was a bag draped across his shoulder--a change of clothes for both Tommy and 'Zo as well as a wad of bribery funds. Just in case. With any luck, he would reach Tommy's--Johnny's--room before anyone started asking questions. Before 'Zo got handcuffed to a chair so that the questions could be asked properly.
He should have been with them that night. He should have helped plan the damn thing. From what Mal said, a few inches difference and Prime would have found himself sneaking into the morgue. And possibly not even for Tommy.
An odd, weary calm had overtaken Prime after the initial panic at seeing Mal arrive alone. Now, he just had to get the two lovebirds out.
-
Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Mon Feb 06, 2012 5:12 pm
The bitter warm smell of coffee began to flood the apartment as Jacqui turned on the hob and set the caffettiera on top of it.
"I guess," she said, with a shrug. "Hell, it's all just brain cells flashing, right? Maybe one of 'em short circuited. Or you know, maybe you met one of them in another life- whatever you wanna tell yourself..."
She padded across the floorboards and cast a critical eye over the photo Teddy had laid out in front of him. There was nothing much to see, really. A pair- clearly brother and sister from the similarity in the shape of their faces and the lines of their features- a good-looking pair admittedly, but nothing more than that. Tweak their hair and clothing a little and they might equally have been a couple of well brought-up college kids in the mould of Rosie Wallenstein as two hedonistic hell-raisers in the mould of, well, Jacqui herself. There was nothing about them that rang any bells to her. So what did Teddy see?
Whilst the coffee brewed, she slipped back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of slim cigarette pants before reappearing, buttoning up a white embroidered blouse. Taking the pot from the stove, she poured it into the mugs and ferried them over to the table.
"Drink up, longhair. Don't wanna keep Savio waiting..." she said, with a grim smile as she took a long sip from the steaming hot coffee. "Then we can get round to whatever kick you had planned for us."
Yeah, if she made it out with her neck still intact.
Looking back, Tommy didn't remember an awful lot of the frantic drive to the hospital. He knew he'd stayed conscious because he had the vague image of 'Zo's searingly blue eyes gazing at him, ever-present, with concern welling up in their corners and tracking down her cheeks. But apart from that, his memory was a blur filled with the hum of the car's engine, the buzz and voices of the ER and then the sting of an injection straight into a vein in his arm that made some of the pain float away. After that, he found himself in a room that smelt of disinfectant and the coppery tang of his own blood. His jeans had been deftly cut away and the bullet extracted then the wound cleaned, making him grit his teeth even through the pinkish haze of morphine. Several stitches later, all that could be seen of it was white bandages wrapped around his thigh.
For the first time, he and 'Zo were left alone, the door swinging shut behind the nurse, and he turned to where she was still sitting anxiously beside the bed.
"You should go now," he said, shutting his eyes briefly. He suddenly felt immensely tired, like he could sleep for days. But maybe that was the morphine talking. "Make sure no one catches you leaving."
He smiled at her and tried to reach over to take her hand, but the stab of pain that the change in position caused made him pause half-way. "I'm fine. Nothing's going to happen to me here..."
Ben had always known that a phone call in the middle of the night wasn't never going to be one communicating good news. Even at The Times, no one ever called him because something good had happened. No, it was always that someone had been assassinated, some war had been declared on the other side of the world, some starlet had been found dead in the early hours... Good news could wait until the day edition. Bad news went straight to the presses for the early morning paper. What did that say about human nature? About the masochistic, or maybe voyeuristic urge to read something horrendous as soon as possible whilst saving something pleasant for a casual flick through at lunch-time?
When the trill of the handset had gone off from his study, he'd woken up immediately, muttered something incomprehensible to the still-slumbering Jo and went to answer it. At worst he'd been expecting it to be another call from the police to say that Alex had been hauled off bail or that he'd been beaten up by some Neanderthal in a bar. He hadn't been expecting to be told his eldest son was in the emergency room of the General with a bullet wound in his leg that had almost severed his femoral artery. After putting the phone down on who-? Some guy who's name he didn't even bother to remember, something beginning with 'M'- He walked out of the study and into the hallway and found that he was shaking.
"Jo-?" he said, turning on the light. He knew the use of his wife's first name would be as good as giving her a shake or screaming his head off in terms of grabbing her attention. "We need to get down to the hospital..."
Rosie wasn't quite sure how to react to her father's own reaction so she stood at the doorway to the sitting room in confusion, a faint frown dimpling the space between her brows. At his comments about Prime, she opened her mouth to say something but abruptly shut it again, her pink-painted lips gradually pursing ever-tighter as he disappeared into the kitchen, laughter still hanging in the air.
"Really?" she retorted to Wally but said no more about it. She felt hurt somehow, both on Prime's behalf and because her father clearly didn't take what had been- to Rosie at least- some of the most pleasant afternoons she'd spent in a long while very seriously. What did he know about her friends? What did he know about- About-? Anything!
Repressing the unexpected urge to stamp her feet and stomp out of the door like an insolent teenager, she calmed herself down by telling herself that Charlie's reaction had been better that the one she'd been half-expecting: outrage, strict forbiddence and possibly wielding of firearms. He could think it was a joke if he liked... Right up until Prime knocked on the front door.
Glancing down the hallway and realising that she and Wally were not alone, Rosie managed to smile sweetly at Clementine and beckoned her into the sitting room.
"Sorry Clem," she said, sitting down on the sofa and smoothing her skirts out around her. "How are you? Would you like some tea? The kettle's just boiled and there's cake, if you'd like it?"
"I guess," she said, with a shrug. "Hell, it's all just brain cells flashing, right? Maybe one of 'em short circuited. Or you know, maybe you met one of them in another life- whatever you wanna tell yourself..."
She padded across the floorboards and cast a critical eye over the photo Teddy had laid out in front of him. There was nothing much to see, really. A pair- clearly brother and sister from the similarity in the shape of their faces and the lines of their features- a good-looking pair admittedly, but nothing more than that. Tweak their hair and clothing a little and they might equally have been a couple of well brought-up college kids in the mould of Rosie Wallenstein as two hedonistic hell-raisers in the mould of, well, Jacqui herself. There was nothing about them that rang any bells to her. So what did Teddy see?
Whilst the coffee brewed, she slipped back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of slim cigarette pants before reappearing, buttoning up a white embroidered blouse. Taking the pot from the stove, she poured it into the mugs and ferried them over to the table.
"Drink up, longhair. Don't wanna keep Savio waiting..." she said, with a grim smile as she took a long sip from the steaming hot coffee. "Then we can get round to whatever kick you had planned for us."
Yeah, if she made it out with her neck still intact.
Looking back, Tommy didn't remember an awful lot of the frantic drive to the hospital. He knew he'd stayed conscious because he had the vague image of 'Zo's searingly blue eyes gazing at him, ever-present, with concern welling up in their corners and tracking down her cheeks. But apart from that, his memory was a blur filled with the hum of the car's engine, the buzz and voices of the ER and then the sting of an injection straight into a vein in his arm that made some of the pain float away. After that, he found himself in a room that smelt of disinfectant and the coppery tang of his own blood. His jeans had been deftly cut away and the bullet extracted then the wound cleaned, making him grit his teeth even through the pinkish haze of morphine. Several stitches later, all that could be seen of it was white bandages wrapped around his thigh.
For the first time, he and 'Zo were left alone, the door swinging shut behind the nurse, and he turned to where she was still sitting anxiously beside the bed.
"You should go now," he said, shutting his eyes briefly. He suddenly felt immensely tired, like he could sleep for days. But maybe that was the morphine talking. "Make sure no one catches you leaving."
He smiled at her and tried to reach over to take her hand, but the stab of pain that the change in position caused made him pause half-way. "I'm fine. Nothing's going to happen to me here..."
Ben had always known that a phone call in the middle of the night wasn't never going to be one communicating good news. Even at The Times, no one ever called him because something good had happened. No, it was always that someone had been assassinated, some war had been declared on the other side of the world, some starlet had been found dead in the early hours... Good news could wait until the day edition. Bad news went straight to the presses for the early morning paper. What did that say about human nature? About the masochistic, or maybe voyeuristic urge to read something horrendous as soon as possible whilst saving something pleasant for a casual flick through at lunch-time?
When the trill of the handset had gone off from his study, he'd woken up immediately, muttered something incomprehensible to the still-slumbering Jo and went to answer it. At worst he'd been expecting it to be another call from the police to say that Alex had been hauled off bail or that he'd been beaten up by some Neanderthal in a bar. He hadn't been expecting to be told his eldest son was in the emergency room of the General with a bullet wound in his leg that had almost severed his femoral artery. After putting the phone down on who-? Some guy who's name he didn't even bother to remember, something beginning with 'M'- He walked out of the study and into the hallway and found that he was shaking.
"Jo-?" he said, turning on the light. He knew the use of his wife's first name would be as good as giving her a shake or screaming his head off in terms of grabbing her attention. "We need to get down to the hospital..."
Rosie wasn't quite sure how to react to her father's own reaction so she stood at the doorway to the sitting room in confusion, a faint frown dimpling the space between her brows. At his comments about Prime, she opened her mouth to say something but abruptly shut it again, her pink-painted lips gradually pursing ever-tighter as he disappeared into the kitchen, laughter still hanging in the air.
"Really?" she retorted to Wally but said no more about it. She felt hurt somehow, both on Prime's behalf and because her father clearly didn't take what had been- to Rosie at least- some of the most pleasant afternoons she'd spent in a long while very seriously. What did he know about her friends? What did he know about- About-? Anything!
Repressing the unexpected urge to stamp her feet and stomp out of the door like an insolent teenager, she calmed herself down by telling herself that Charlie's reaction had been better that the one she'd been half-expecting: outrage, strict forbiddence and possibly wielding of firearms. He could think it was a joke if he liked... Right up until Prime knocked on the front door.
Glancing down the hallway and realising that she and Wally were not alone, Rosie managed to smile sweetly at Clementine and beckoned her into the sitting room.
"Sorry Clem," she said, sitting down on the sofa and smoothing her skirts out around her. "How are you? Would you like some tea? The kettle's just boiled and there's cake, if you'd like it?"
-
NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Tue Feb 07, 2012 6:08 am
Teddy's mouth quirked into a distracted smile at Jacqui's suggestion. Another life. Sure. Maybe in another life, Teddy wasn't dumb enough to only fall for women who had no interest in him. Maybe he would have been more like his infinitely wiser partner, Chuck, who had landed the doll of his dreams and married the hell out of her.
Then, Chuck hadn't always been so wise, had he? A stint as a police officer had come to an abrupt end before he could nail any of his personal demons. Then he'd spent his youth chasing cheaters around speakeasies and dodging the enemies he'd made on both sides of the law...
Suddenly, Teddy chuckled. He took an obedient drink of his coffee--which was too hot for such a mouthful, but helped wake him up anyway--and stood. "Hey, Jacqui...you draw people as well as cartoons, right? Pretty damn well, too, if I'm remembering that gallery right."
He tapped the part of the photo with the girl. "Think you could draw her? But with shorter hair, and in one of those flappy numbers chicks used to wear in the twenties. You'll get a laugh out of this, trust me."
On his retreat back to the other room to change into his clothes, he paused to catch her hand. He squeezed it, briefly, not quite looking at her. "And it'll all be alright with Savio. You've still got me to throw at him if he starts snapping, remember? Then we can do whatever you feel like. Grab breakfast somewhere. Sneak into an art house. Run with scissors. Just name it." Then he slipped away, and found his clothes lying more or less where he'd left them. He chuckled again, shaking his head at the absurd place his thoughts about the Bruyeres had taken him.
-----------------------------------------------------
'Zo had been watching Tommy's every move, timing her breaths to his, and gnawing on her lips every time he so much as grimaced. Now, when he finally focused back on her and the medical staff was finally gone, she was beside herself with relief. She flashed him a wavering smile, twisting the sleeves of the black turtleneck around between her fingers. She took a few inch-wide, faltering steps, then hurried next to his bed when he reached for her and didn't quite make it. There was a chair nearby. She pulled it up with her foot, then took a seat so she could better meet his eyes. She squeezed his hand between both of her own.
"I'm not going anywhere," 'Zo insisted, "not until I can take you home wit' moi. We'll get you home and then I'll take care of you. D'accord? You wouldn't leave moi. And I'm not gone leave you again. I--I'm so sorry you were hurt, Tommy! It's all my fault, I should have...dere's so many t'ings I should have done different. I never wanted..."
She shook her head. Her words were getting jumbled. She looked up, allowed herself to get good and helpless against the too-deep brown shade of his eyes, and emitted a shaky, defeated sigh. "Tommy, je t'aime."
It could only be a matter of time before the doctor returned, or the police were summoned, and all of 'Zo's thoughts from the moment she had realized Tommy was injured on came spilling past her lips as the heat rushed to her face and her ears seemed to go hollow. Some of it undoubtedly came out in French, but the urgency and candor probably served as a decent translation, anyway.
"I--I know we haven't known each other dat long, and it hasn't been easy, but I've never felt dis way about anyone. Ever! You make moi so happy dat it hurts--and I've never--T'ings like getting married, and having a family, and settling down...Prime wanted dose t'ings, but it's only ever terrified moi, and I t'ought I didn't want anyt'ing to do wit' any of it. But then I met you, and all I can t'ink about is making you happy. I love you. I know I'll never feel dis way about anyone else--I feel it in my chest, every time I look at you, everytime I t'ink about you. Even if I have to spend da rest of my life hiding in you closet so we can be together, I'd do it. If--"
She paused, swallowed around a tongue that had gone very dry. "If you still want moi."
The door was flung open. 'Zo jumped, looking with wide eyes at the intruder.
Prime shut the door behind himself and crossed the room in three great steps. He caught her arm and pulled her up from the chair. "Come on, Cher, we don't got much time. Peekon, you family's coming. They'll get you taken care of."
"I--but--" 'Zo looked between Prime and Tommy, her hands half-raised in some fruitless gesture. Prime managed to drag her three steps away before she shook him off. "No! Prime, I'm not leaving him here!"
Exasperated, Prime opened his mouth to argue. The door opened a second time.
"Hey!" The nurse at the door set her hands at her hips and set her clipboard to the side. "Who are you? There's no visitors tonight. How did you even get in here?"
Prime and 'Zo exchanged a brief look. They had several options, but...Her eyes were pleading. How could he say no to that look? According to Mal, Tommy had been instrumental in getting 'Zo out from a sticky situation, after all...With a resigned sigh, he dropped the bag with her clothes on the floor and reared back. 'Zo tilted her head just the slightest bit, baring her cheek at the angle that was least likely to hurt. The slap echoed loud and sharp in the sterile little room.
The oblivion of sleep was still holding onto Jo's nightgown when Ben ambled up to get the phone. Late night calls were his. If it involved her, she could find out about it in the morning. If it was important enough, then the doom that was an early-awoken Jo could be enjoyed by all.
At the rare sound of her first name upon her better-half's lips, however, Jo sat bolt-upright and stumbled out of bed, her fingers already working to tame a mane of copper curls. "What? What's happened? Is it Alex?"
"Daddy, what's going on?" Came Ami's voice from across the hall. The youngest Goldberg shared her father's sleep patterns--easily awoken by the slightest hint of disaster.
"Back to bed, Little Missy," Jo called in response, shoving her feet into something that looked like shoes. Ami appeared in the doorway, pale face bright with concern.
"Was that Tommy? Is something the matter?" Ami was already wearing her shoes and coat over her pajamas. She'd gathered from the sound of her father's voice on his end of the phone call (which was carried by an air vent) that something urgent was happening. Jo took one look at the girl, cast her eyes briefly to the ceiling in defeat, and threw on her coat.
"Your father's gonna tell us everything he knows on the way. C'mon."
No sound came from Clem's room. She was 'staying the night at a friend's house.' Hopefully, learning how to tell a better lie. The three Goldbergs that remained piled into the car and not nearly soon enough were at the hospital. Johnny Green. Well, it was at least a little better than John Everyman. Somehow, a little embarrassment at not having been able to teach her children how to be better deceivers managed to wiggle its way through the panic that Jo found herself struggling against. She hadn't seen Tommy since he'd stormed out of Ben's study. He'd been at the hospital when Rosie was attacked, but...somehow they'd missed him.
"God damn, does he know he's going about things backwards?" Jo rambled as she raced Ben and Ami to the room pointed out by the head nurse. "He's supposed to war, THEN come back maimed, THEN get his golden girl. Lawd, when will these kids learn?"
She emitted a brittle laugh that was cut short by the muffled sound of shouts. The door to 'John Green's' room opened, and out came an orderly, who was none-too-gently dragging along...
"You think you can just take off in the middle of the night and I won't even notice? You think you can just take my sister like that and get away with it? I'll kill you, you bastard! You're just damn lucky you shot yourself before I got to you! Think you're getting past the state line? I'll break your legs off first, you son-of-" Prime abruptly stopped shouting when he caught sight of the Goldbergs. He waggled his brows at them, tipped an imaginary hat, and allowed the orderly to yank him down an alternating hall.
---------------------------------------------------------
"Hey Rosie," Clem replied slowly as she followed her friend into the sitting room. She felt like she'd just walked into the kind of dream one had on an empty stomach. Rosie Wallenstein, trying to get her father to agree to have Prime Bruyere over for...what, Sunday supper? It was just too odd. But it made an easy segue into Clem's request. "That all sounds lovely, but first-"
She stopped as a fluffy head appeared over the top of the sofa. Clem blinked, then grinned and grabbed the tortoiseshell kitten, settling her onto her lap for a good ear-scratch. "Hi, Angelique! I can't believe Uncle Chuck let you keep her. Lawd, she ain't so skinny now, huh? When Prime and I found her she was just this little twig. She's all roly-poly! Oh, just hear that purr!"
The kitten enjoyed the attention for a while, then padded and hopped away to swat at Rosie's hands. That broke the furry-cast spell, and Clem shook her head. "Right! So, I wanted to ask a favor. See, I'm...well, I was wondering...my folks say you spent all your time at Uncle Chuck's office when you were a kid. Did he ever show you any...y'know, detective stuff? Lock-picking, for example?"
Then, Chuck hadn't always been so wise, had he? A stint as a police officer had come to an abrupt end before he could nail any of his personal demons. Then he'd spent his youth chasing cheaters around speakeasies and dodging the enemies he'd made on both sides of the law...
Suddenly, Teddy chuckled. He took an obedient drink of his coffee--which was too hot for such a mouthful, but helped wake him up anyway--and stood. "Hey, Jacqui...you draw people as well as cartoons, right? Pretty damn well, too, if I'm remembering that gallery right."
He tapped the part of the photo with the girl. "Think you could draw her? But with shorter hair, and in one of those flappy numbers chicks used to wear in the twenties. You'll get a laugh out of this, trust me."
On his retreat back to the other room to change into his clothes, he paused to catch her hand. He squeezed it, briefly, not quite looking at her. "And it'll all be alright with Savio. You've still got me to throw at him if he starts snapping, remember? Then we can do whatever you feel like. Grab breakfast somewhere. Sneak into an art house. Run with scissors. Just name it." Then he slipped away, and found his clothes lying more or less where he'd left them. He chuckled again, shaking his head at the absurd place his thoughts about the Bruyeres had taken him.
-----------------------------------------------------
'Zo had been watching Tommy's every move, timing her breaths to his, and gnawing on her lips every time he so much as grimaced. Now, when he finally focused back on her and the medical staff was finally gone, she was beside herself with relief. She flashed him a wavering smile, twisting the sleeves of the black turtleneck around between her fingers. She took a few inch-wide, faltering steps, then hurried next to his bed when he reached for her and didn't quite make it. There was a chair nearby. She pulled it up with her foot, then took a seat so she could better meet his eyes. She squeezed his hand between both of her own.
"I'm not going anywhere," 'Zo insisted, "not until I can take you home wit' moi. We'll get you home and then I'll take care of you. D'accord? You wouldn't leave moi. And I'm not gone leave you again. I--I'm so sorry you were hurt, Tommy! It's all my fault, I should have...dere's so many t'ings I should have done different. I never wanted..."
She shook her head. Her words were getting jumbled. She looked up, allowed herself to get good and helpless against the too-deep brown shade of his eyes, and emitted a shaky, defeated sigh. "Tommy, je t'aime."
It could only be a matter of time before the doctor returned, or the police were summoned, and all of 'Zo's thoughts from the moment she had realized Tommy was injured on came spilling past her lips as the heat rushed to her face and her ears seemed to go hollow. Some of it undoubtedly came out in French, but the urgency and candor probably served as a decent translation, anyway.
"I--I know we haven't known each other dat long, and it hasn't been easy, but I've never felt dis way about anyone. Ever! You make moi so happy dat it hurts--and I've never--T'ings like getting married, and having a family, and settling down...Prime wanted dose t'ings, but it's only ever terrified moi, and I t'ought I didn't want anyt'ing to do wit' any of it. But then I met you, and all I can t'ink about is making you happy. I love you. I know I'll never feel dis way about anyone else--I feel it in my chest, every time I look at you, everytime I t'ink about you. Even if I have to spend da rest of my life hiding in you closet so we can be together, I'd do it. If--"
She paused, swallowed around a tongue that had gone very dry. "If you still want moi."
The door was flung open. 'Zo jumped, looking with wide eyes at the intruder.
Prime shut the door behind himself and crossed the room in three great steps. He caught her arm and pulled her up from the chair. "Come on, Cher, we don't got much time. Peekon, you family's coming. They'll get you taken care of."
"I--but--" 'Zo looked between Prime and Tommy, her hands half-raised in some fruitless gesture. Prime managed to drag her three steps away before she shook him off. "No! Prime, I'm not leaving him here!"
Exasperated, Prime opened his mouth to argue. The door opened a second time.
"Hey!" The nurse at the door set her hands at her hips and set her clipboard to the side. "Who are you? There's no visitors tonight. How did you even get in here?"
Prime and 'Zo exchanged a brief look. They had several options, but...Her eyes were pleading. How could he say no to that look? According to Mal, Tommy had been instrumental in getting 'Zo out from a sticky situation, after all...With a resigned sigh, he dropped the bag with her clothes on the floor and reared back. 'Zo tilted her head just the slightest bit, baring her cheek at the angle that was least likely to hurt. The slap echoed loud and sharp in the sterile little room.
The oblivion of sleep was still holding onto Jo's nightgown when Ben ambled up to get the phone. Late night calls were his. If it involved her, she could find out about it in the morning. If it was important enough, then the doom that was an early-awoken Jo could be enjoyed by all.
At the rare sound of her first name upon her better-half's lips, however, Jo sat bolt-upright and stumbled out of bed, her fingers already working to tame a mane of copper curls. "What? What's happened? Is it Alex?"
"Daddy, what's going on?" Came Ami's voice from across the hall. The youngest Goldberg shared her father's sleep patterns--easily awoken by the slightest hint of disaster.
"Back to bed, Little Missy," Jo called in response, shoving her feet into something that looked like shoes. Ami appeared in the doorway, pale face bright with concern.
"Was that Tommy? Is something the matter?" Ami was already wearing her shoes and coat over her pajamas. She'd gathered from the sound of her father's voice on his end of the phone call (which was carried by an air vent) that something urgent was happening. Jo took one look at the girl, cast her eyes briefly to the ceiling in defeat, and threw on her coat.
"Your father's gonna tell us everything he knows on the way. C'mon."
No sound came from Clem's room. She was 'staying the night at a friend's house.' Hopefully, learning how to tell a better lie. The three Goldbergs that remained piled into the car and not nearly soon enough were at the hospital. Johnny Green. Well, it was at least a little better than John Everyman. Somehow, a little embarrassment at not having been able to teach her children how to be better deceivers managed to wiggle its way through the panic that Jo found herself struggling against. She hadn't seen Tommy since he'd stormed out of Ben's study. He'd been at the hospital when Rosie was attacked, but...somehow they'd missed him.
"God damn, does he know he's going about things backwards?" Jo rambled as she raced Ben and Ami to the room pointed out by the head nurse. "He's supposed to war, THEN come back maimed, THEN get his golden girl. Lawd, when will these kids learn?"
She emitted a brittle laugh that was cut short by the muffled sound of shouts. The door to 'John Green's' room opened, and out came an orderly, who was none-too-gently dragging along...
"You think you can just take off in the middle of the night and I won't even notice? You think you can just take my sister like that and get away with it? I'll kill you, you bastard! You're just damn lucky you shot yourself before I got to you! Think you're getting past the state line? I'll break your legs off first, you son-of-" Prime abruptly stopped shouting when he caught sight of the Goldbergs. He waggled his brows at them, tipped an imaginary hat, and allowed the orderly to yank him down an alternating hall.
---------------------------------------------------------
"Hey Rosie," Clem replied slowly as she followed her friend into the sitting room. She felt like she'd just walked into the kind of dream one had on an empty stomach. Rosie Wallenstein, trying to get her father to agree to have Prime Bruyere over for...what, Sunday supper? It was just too odd. But it made an easy segue into Clem's request. "That all sounds lovely, but first-"
She stopped as a fluffy head appeared over the top of the sofa. Clem blinked, then grinned and grabbed the tortoiseshell kitten, settling her onto her lap for a good ear-scratch. "Hi, Angelique! I can't believe Uncle Chuck let you keep her. Lawd, she ain't so skinny now, huh? When Prime and I found her she was just this little twig. She's all roly-poly! Oh, just hear that purr!"
The kitten enjoyed the attention for a while, then padded and hopped away to swat at Rosie's hands. That broke the furry-cast spell, and Clem shook her head. "Right! So, I wanted to ask a favor. See, I'm...well, I was wondering...my folks say you spent all your time at Uncle Chuck's office when you were a kid. Did he ever show you any...y'know, detective stuff? Lock-picking, for example?"
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Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by NorthernSoul on Fri Feb 10, 2012 11:58 am
Jacqui didn't bother to tell him that her 'throwing him at Savio' if the latter started 'snapping' was not going to happen. He'd find out soon enough if he tried to accompany her.
"Sure," she said, in reply to his request about the drawing. "But why? You want me to make it a dirty picture whilst I'm at it? You've got specific tastes, longhair... Maybe I should get myself a drop-waisted dress."
Whilst Teddy got dressed, Jacqui stepped into her shoes (flat pumps this time, not her usual kitten heels- maybe she was being paranoid) and finished off the dregs of her coffee. After a moment's consideration, she untied the silk scarf currently wrapped around the stuffed owl in the corner and tied it around her own neck.
"Let's go," she said, once Teddy had reappeared wearing substantially more clothes than before. Grabbing her bag and putting the envelope containing the photos inside, she waited to let him through before locking up the apartment (as if the lock couldn't be kicked through the dry-rotting wood at the slightest inclination) and setting off down the corridor towards the sunny day outside.
The place where Savio tended to run his business from was a private pool hall and member's-only club above an Italian restaurant on the east side of town. It was only a couple of miles from Jacqui's own apartment and it didn't take her and Teddy long to walk there through the bustling streets full of people venturing out into the sunshine. She didn't feel nervous as such. She was approaching this whole exchange with the kind of reckless bullheadedness that characterised many of her dealings. But there was still some kind of... apprehension there. Probably because of the way the bastard had pinned up against the wall when he'd been round to pay her a visit. Animal fear was hard to shake, even with a hefty dose of stubbornness, and that made her angry at her own vulnerability. But it was all or nothing now. The moment she stepped out of that pizzeria, she'd be sure to get out of the city. She'd make it happen.
"Now's your cue to scram, daddy-o," she said to Teddy, once they were within a block of Savio's. There's a coffee shop across the street. I'll see you in five. And don't be afraid of buying me something whilst I'm gone. I'll take a black coffee and a pastry," she added, with a smirk.
Tommy opened his mouth to protest but paused when he sensed that 'Zo was going to say something else. What she did say, he hadn't been expecting. Well, he hadn't been expecting it now.
"'Zo," he said, the strength of his feeling cutting through the haze of morphine like a searchlight. "I know- I heard you before. Moi aussi, je t'aime! Please, évidemment j'ai envie d'être avec toi," he said fiercely. His chest hurt to think of how she could even ask him that question. "I feel the same; god, I was nowhere until I met you." He reached out put his hand to her cheek, pushing back a lock of blonde hair that threatened to obscure her blue eyes. She was beautiful, even when her skin was tear-stained and her eyes red, when her hair was tangled and pinned hurriedly up. She'd be beautiful no matter what, and he was struck with a humbling sense of how immensely lucky he was that she was saying this things to him. He felt like he was hovering over the pivot of his life and only if he could have her would the path from here on be upwards. How could anything else be better than being with her?
"I love you too. I love you. But this is why you need to leave now. It wasn't your fault, I'll see you again in a few days. 'Zo you need to-"
Suddenly the door was flung open and Prime clattered through the doorway. Ordinarily, Tommy would have felt like hitting him for interrupting the exchange that, through the panic that was building about allowing 'Zo to stay here, was making him giddy with happiness and the urge to seize her and kiss for as long as he could. But Prime would be here to take her away and right now, 'Zo's own safety was more important.
To his dismay, Prime gave in almost immediately. To his shock and anger, he proceeded to slap 'Zo straight across the face.
As they strode down the corridor, Ben muttered an explicative under his breath in response to Jo's attempt at a joke. "Maybe he could have skipped the 'maimed' altogether? The kid's got no imagination..." he said in a low voice
When a faux-angry Prime was yanked out of the room where Tommy had been taken, yelling something about 'Zo, Ben didn't bother to try to understand. Minor details like that were unimportant for the time-being. He could figure out why the Louisianan was getting himself kicked out of the room once he'd made sure his oldest son hadn't died of blood loss.
Pushing open the door, Ben released the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding when he saw Tommy. He was indeed alive; pale maybe and with several meters of bandaging wrapped around his thigh but alive nonetheless.
"Thank god, tateleh," he said, striding over to the bed without a second thought and pulling a still-speechless Tommy into an embrace. "You're alright? You kids have been giving me and your mother the run-around recently..." Even as he uttered it, the phrasing hung silently in the air for a few moments and Ben stepped back, suddenly unsure of how Tommy would react. To his immense relief, Tommy nodded, dazed, and smiled, his hand finding 'Zo's by the side of the bed.
"Sure," she said, in reply to his request about the drawing. "But why? You want me to make it a dirty picture whilst I'm at it? You've got specific tastes, longhair... Maybe I should get myself a drop-waisted dress."
Whilst Teddy got dressed, Jacqui stepped into her shoes (flat pumps this time, not her usual kitten heels- maybe she was being paranoid) and finished off the dregs of her coffee. After a moment's consideration, she untied the silk scarf currently wrapped around the stuffed owl in the corner and tied it around her own neck.
"Let's go," she said, once Teddy had reappeared wearing substantially more clothes than before. Grabbing her bag and putting the envelope containing the photos inside, she waited to let him through before locking up the apartment (as if the lock couldn't be kicked through the dry-rotting wood at the slightest inclination) and setting off down the corridor towards the sunny day outside.
The place where Savio tended to run his business from was a private pool hall and member's-only club above an Italian restaurant on the east side of town. It was only a couple of miles from Jacqui's own apartment and it didn't take her and Teddy long to walk there through the bustling streets full of people venturing out into the sunshine. She didn't feel nervous as such. She was approaching this whole exchange with the kind of reckless bullheadedness that characterised many of her dealings. But there was still some kind of... apprehension there. Probably because of the way the bastard had pinned up against the wall when he'd been round to pay her a visit. Animal fear was hard to shake, even with a hefty dose of stubbornness, and that made her angry at her own vulnerability. But it was all or nothing now. The moment she stepped out of that pizzeria, she'd be sure to get out of the city. She'd make it happen.
"Now's your cue to scram, daddy-o," she said to Teddy, once they were within a block of Savio's. There's a coffee shop across the street. I'll see you in five. And don't be afraid of buying me something whilst I'm gone. I'll take a black coffee and a pastry," she added, with a smirk.
Tommy opened his mouth to protest but paused when he sensed that 'Zo was going to say something else. What she did say, he hadn't been expecting. Well, he hadn't been expecting it now.
"'Zo," he said, the strength of his feeling cutting through the haze of morphine like a searchlight. "I know- I heard you before. Moi aussi, je t'aime! Please, évidemment j'ai envie d'être avec toi," he said fiercely. His chest hurt to think of how she could even ask him that question. "I feel the same; god, I was nowhere until I met you." He reached out put his hand to her cheek, pushing back a lock of blonde hair that threatened to obscure her blue eyes. She was beautiful, even when her skin was tear-stained and her eyes red, when her hair was tangled and pinned hurriedly up. She'd be beautiful no matter what, and he was struck with a humbling sense of how immensely lucky he was that she was saying this things to him. He felt like he was hovering over the pivot of his life and only if he could have her would the path from here on be upwards. How could anything else be better than being with her?
"I love you too. I love you. But this is why you need to leave now. It wasn't your fault, I'll see you again in a few days. 'Zo you need to-"
Suddenly the door was flung open and Prime clattered through the doorway. Ordinarily, Tommy would have felt like hitting him for interrupting the exchange that, through the panic that was building about allowing 'Zo to stay here, was making him giddy with happiness and the urge to seize her and kiss for as long as he could. But Prime would be here to take her away and right now, 'Zo's own safety was more important.
To his dismay, Prime gave in almost immediately. To his shock and anger, he proceeded to slap 'Zo straight across the face.
As they strode down the corridor, Ben muttered an explicative under his breath in response to Jo's attempt at a joke. "Maybe he could have skipped the 'maimed' altogether? The kid's got no imagination..." he said in a low voice
When a faux-angry Prime was yanked out of the room where Tommy had been taken, yelling something about 'Zo, Ben didn't bother to try to understand. Minor details like that were unimportant for the time-being. He could figure out why the Louisianan was getting himself kicked out of the room once he'd made sure his oldest son hadn't died of blood loss.
Pushing open the door, Ben released the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding when he saw Tommy. He was indeed alive; pale maybe and with several meters of bandaging wrapped around his thigh but alive nonetheless.
"Thank god, tateleh," he said, striding over to the bed without a second thought and pulling a still-speechless Tommy into an embrace. "You're alright? You kids have been giving me and your mother the run-around recently..." Even as he uttered it, the phrasing hung silently in the air for a few moments and Ben stepped back, suddenly unsure of how Tommy would react. To his immense relief, Tommy nodded, dazed, and smiled, his hand finding 'Zo's by the side of the bed.
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NorthernSoul - Member for 5 years
Re: A Life Less Noir ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Sun Feb 12, 2012 3:20 am
Jacqui got steadily more tense as they approached her deranged little friend's hideout. Teddy couldn't blame her. Anyone that was bad enough to get Jacqui to do something against her will--such as, say, making nice with some 'longhair' detective--wasn't anyone he'd want to go in and have a chat with one-on-one. She was actually afraid of the guy. Once they were far enough away from her apartment, Teddy found her hand and squeezed it again, intent on holding onto it until she shook him off.
She wasn't scared enough to change her mind about him accompanying her, though. The frustration was enough that for once Teddy was the one rolling his eyes. "God, Jacqui."
He glanced back at the cafe, scowling at the uselessly far-awayness of it, then back at the building she was aimed at. It was a shady enough, holed-up kind of place. Not ritzy, but not a dungeon. What was the worst that could happen to her there?
How far had he sunk that he was actually considering letting her go?
Teddy swiped one hand across his face, shaking his head. "Come on. Let me go in with you. I won't say a word, but I can't just let you wander in to chat with that guy alone. I'll buy you all the pastries you want afterwards. A whole damn bakery. Let me just see him checking you off his list in person. Alright?"
------------------------------------------
Jo didn't waste any time getting her arms around Tommy once Ben had got out of the way. The moment she'd seen him alert, alive, fatigued but most definitely alive, something had kicked back into work in her chest and the watergates had opened. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she smattered kisses across her eldest son's face and hair, shaking her head and muttering things about stupid, careless kids and thank God for them. Ami dawdled somewhere nearby, her eyes wide and her face pale. The poor thing was starting to look like a little porcelain doll these days. A porcelain doll with messy hair who was always afraid of getting thrown out of a room so the adults could talk. Jo let Tommy go once she'd smothered him a little and realized that he wasn't shoving her away. That almost got her sobbing. Instead, she straightened up to wipe away the tears in a business-like manner and notice the other occupants of the room: an agitated nurse, and a white-blond girl who looked like she'd been hit by a bus or two but was strangely happy about it.
"So what happened, then?" Jo asked, directing the question to 'Zo and Tommy and mostly ignoring the nurse. Naturally, it was the nurse that answered.
"Looks like some numb-skull runaway that went off badly and a family scuffle," The woman snorted quietly and elbowed her way through to make sure that no needles or monitors had been nudged out of place during the reunion. She fixed 'Zo with a look, her eyes lingering pointedly on the red mark on the younger woman's cheek. "You can stay the night here, if you want, honey. Sounds like there's a rough welcome waiting for you when you get home."
"No, thanks, it's alright, really." 'Zo shook her head. She was dazed. Beyond dazed. Delirious and confused. Tommy spoke French. He'd heard her talking to Prime, all those times. He'd heard that she loved him and trusted him. He'd also heard when she'd been willing to leave him high and dry if Prime said so. And he'd stayed. "My brother just has a temper. He just doesn't understand."
"Is he the reason you were cleaning that gun, buster?" The nurse asked of Tommy, giving him that same shrewd look.
"Cleaning a gun, huh?" Jo looked back at Tommy. There was a stitch in her brow, but for now she was just happy to see him alive. And not to be thrown out of his room.
Ami found her way next to Tommy and gingerly squeezed his shoulder. Her mouth was puckered up, small. "You were supposed to be careful."
'Zo managed to tear her gaze away from Tommy--all she wanted right then was to throw her arms around him and maybe never let go--and looked at the Goldbergs. The last time she'd seen them she'd let herself get bowled into a corner. Between wanting to make a good impression and being terrified at what might happen to Tommy as a result of being with her, she had completely folded. Prime had been there to save her. Now, something actually had happened to Tommy. And no matter what he said, it was her fault. And Prime wasn't around to save her this time.
I was nowhere until I met you. It was almost frightening how much those words resounded in 'Zo's heart. It summarized things perfectly. She had been nowhere until she met Tommy, too. And now she was here. She had him. He loved her. She would take her medicine from his family and she would do it without Prime's help for once. Tommy had taken a bullet for her. She could take some harsh words for him. She squeezed his hand as the nurse prattled on about something--when he'd be able to go home, what he'd have to do when he got there--then nodded at something that sounded like it was addressed to her. Her brother was waiting in a nearby hall, if she was willing to talk. He wanted to apologize. She said she'd be there in a moment, and then the nurse left with a stern warning about visiting hours and not getting Tommy--Johnny--too excited.
Once the door shut behind the nurse, 'Zo raised Tommy's hand to her lips and kissed the back of it before regretfully releasing him. Everything was happening too fast to digest, and she needed to move much faster than that. She bent and retrieved the bag Prime had dropped for her. There were clothes and a few supplies inside. Good ol' Prime. He always did come through. "Excuse-moi, I have to change."
'Zo gently tugged the curtain around and disappeared behind it to swap out of her black clothes. She spoke to the nearby Goldbergs as she did so. "I'm sorry. It's my fault he was hurt. I underestimated Savio and him men, and it won't happen again."
The curtain opened again and 'Zo stepped out in a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and a button-up that clearly belonged around a larger frame. She slung the bag over her shoulder and returned to the side of Tommy's bed so she could grip his hand again. Aware of every single nerve in her body, she looked up at the Goldberg patriarch. "Are you gone take him back to your home? Prime and moi gone have to change hotels again just to be safe. But, I'll be back for him."
She wasn't scared enough to change her mind about him accompanying her, though. The frustration was enough that for once Teddy was the one rolling his eyes. "God, Jacqui."
He glanced back at the cafe, scowling at the uselessly far-awayness of it, then back at the building she was aimed at. It was a shady enough, holed-up kind of place. Not ritzy, but not a dungeon. What was the worst that could happen to her there?
How far had he sunk that he was actually considering letting her go?
Teddy swiped one hand across his face, shaking his head. "Come on. Let me go in with you. I won't say a word, but I can't just let you wander in to chat with that guy alone. I'll buy you all the pastries you want afterwards. A whole damn bakery. Let me just see him checking you off his list in person. Alright?"
------------------------------------------
Jo didn't waste any time getting her arms around Tommy once Ben had got out of the way. The moment she'd seen him alert, alive, fatigued but most definitely alive, something had kicked back into work in her chest and the watergates had opened. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she smattered kisses across her eldest son's face and hair, shaking her head and muttering things about stupid, careless kids and thank God for them. Ami dawdled somewhere nearby, her eyes wide and her face pale. The poor thing was starting to look like a little porcelain doll these days. A porcelain doll with messy hair who was always afraid of getting thrown out of a room so the adults could talk. Jo let Tommy go once she'd smothered him a little and realized that he wasn't shoving her away. That almost got her sobbing. Instead, she straightened up to wipe away the tears in a business-like manner and notice the other occupants of the room: an agitated nurse, and a white-blond girl who looked like she'd been hit by a bus or two but was strangely happy about it.
"So what happened, then?" Jo asked, directing the question to 'Zo and Tommy and mostly ignoring the nurse. Naturally, it was the nurse that answered.
"Looks like some numb-skull runaway that went off badly and a family scuffle," The woman snorted quietly and elbowed her way through to make sure that no needles or monitors had been nudged out of place during the reunion. She fixed 'Zo with a look, her eyes lingering pointedly on the red mark on the younger woman's cheek. "You can stay the night here, if you want, honey. Sounds like there's a rough welcome waiting for you when you get home."
"No, thanks, it's alright, really." 'Zo shook her head. She was dazed. Beyond dazed. Delirious and confused. Tommy spoke French. He'd heard her talking to Prime, all those times. He'd heard that she loved him and trusted him. He'd also heard when she'd been willing to leave him high and dry if Prime said so. And he'd stayed. "My brother just has a temper. He just doesn't understand."
"Is he the reason you were cleaning that gun, buster?" The nurse asked of Tommy, giving him that same shrewd look.
"Cleaning a gun, huh?" Jo looked back at Tommy. There was a stitch in her brow, but for now she was just happy to see him alive. And not to be thrown out of his room.
Ami found her way next to Tommy and gingerly squeezed his shoulder. Her mouth was puckered up, small. "You were supposed to be careful."
'Zo managed to tear her gaze away from Tommy--all she wanted right then was to throw her arms around him and maybe never let go--and looked at the Goldbergs. The last time she'd seen them she'd let herself get bowled into a corner. Between wanting to make a good impression and being terrified at what might happen to Tommy as a result of being with her, she had completely folded. Prime had been there to save her. Now, something actually had happened to Tommy. And no matter what he said, it was her fault. And Prime wasn't around to save her this time.
I was nowhere until I met you. It was almost frightening how much those words resounded in 'Zo's heart. It summarized things perfectly. She had been nowhere until she met Tommy, too. And now she was here. She had him. He loved her. She would take her medicine from his family and she would do it without Prime's help for once. Tommy had taken a bullet for her. She could take some harsh words for him. She squeezed his hand as the nurse prattled on about something--when he'd be able to go home, what he'd have to do when he got there--then nodded at something that sounded like it was addressed to her. Her brother was waiting in a nearby hall, if she was willing to talk. He wanted to apologize. She said she'd be there in a moment, and then the nurse left with a stern warning about visiting hours and not getting Tommy--Johnny--too excited.
Once the door shut behind the nurse, 'Zo raised Tommy's hand to her lips and kissed the back of it before regretfully releasing him. Everything was happening too fast to digest, and she needed to move much faster than that. She bent and retrieved the bag Prime had dropped for her. There were clothes and a few supplies inside. Good ol' Prime. He always did come through. "Excuse-moi, I have to change."
'Zo gently tugged the curtain around and disappeared behind it to swap out of her black clothes. She spoke to the nearby Goldbergs as she did so. "I'm sorry. It's my fault he was hurt. I underestimated Savio and him men, and it won't happen again."
The curtain opened again and 'Zo stepped out in a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and a button-up that clearly belonged around a larger frame. She slung the bag over her shoulder and returned to the side of Tommy's bed so she could grip his hand again. Aware of every single nerve in her body, she looked up at the Goldberg patriarch. "Are you gone take him back to your home? Prime and moi gone have to change hotels again just to be safe. But, I'll be back for him."
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Jadeling Hawkins - Member for 5 years
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