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by **Walter Barrecks** on Tue Dec 04, 2007 10:19 pm

Remy caught the hat with no trouble. "Demandonin' one you are." He hung the fedora up on the rack closest to him, and then walked back to the table. "Well, if ya don't like me standin', I could always take a seat, cherie." He had a devilish grin. He knew he had to throw her off her high horse before he could start questioning her. The only way to do that was anger her.

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by **Jadeling Hawkins** on Tue Dec 04, 2007 10:39 pm

Fiona lifted her cup of coffee to her lips, eyes drifting over the rim to the Frenchman. Taking a long, slow sip, she set the mug back down upon the table, looking back away.
"Shin," She started, voice cool as any cucumber, "Do you always allow your faithful customers to be pestered like this? Maybe we should go somewhere a bit less...busy. What do you say, Gerald?" Her Irish accent, charming in its own way, seemed to thicken slightly. Those who knew her would have recognized this as a sign of her growing irritation.
Shin, the wrinkled and hobbling Asian 'restaurant' owner, shifted slightly, swollen eyes blinking rapidly. "Oh, yes, so sorry, Miss Muirenn." He turned to Remy, hands clutched together. "You go back to table, now. No bothering other customers!"
As Shin shuffled his way agitatedly around Remy, making the most polite effort possible to urge him away from the Irish mafia heiress and her strongman, Fiona smiled discreetly, taking another sip of coffee. Normally, she would have simply requested Anvil's special...talents, in removing an irritating civilian. But more careful measures needed to be taken in handling lawmen...at least, lawmen that had not been bought and paid for.

by **Walter Barrecks** on Wed Dec 05, 2007 9:05 pm

Remy turned around to she the man motionin ghim away. He merely whispered "Shin, do I need ta remind you?" He lifted part of his coat to Shin, showing his badge to him as discreetly as possible. He went back over to the table, still questioning the girl, after all, how else do you get answers. "I don't know what seems more screwy here, da fact dat you keep pushin' moi away, or da fact dat you act like you don't know a ting 'bout dis joint?" Dat's right, keep batin' da trap, an' don't stop til you can feel da hook in yer own mouth.

by **Jadeling Hawkins** on Wed Dec 05, 2007 9:38 pm

Fiona paused, eyes slowly lifting back to the detective. "I've no idea what you're getting at, Frenchy. All I know is there's a very pushy boyo who don't appear to recognize a woman that wants her privacy." The Irish slur in her voice was now nearly visible. The corners of her eyes were scrunched just the tiniest bit.
She, along with the rest of her family, had been cursed at birth with a highly sensitive temper. And when any one of them snapped, it often ended...badly. And bad situations were bad for business. So, she worked against her own desire to empty the contents of her cup over the man's head, or to be more direct and shoot him.

by **Axle** on Thu Dec 06, 2007 2:01 am

Johnny, Adrian and Trevor stood there for a while, waiting for the bootlegger. They waited a long while, and it was past the time for the man to be there. Johnny, becoming irritated as the night drew darker, took a last drag from his smoke and threw it to the ground. He stamped it out and said, "So, where the hell is this guy? I'm getting an itch to get an edge, know what I'm saying?" Adrian looked around and said, "Yeah, this is baloney.. Shoot, you guys just wanna head to a juice joint?" Johnny and Trevor looked at eachother and said, "Sure, why not." Adrian then tossed his finished cig and said, "Ok. I know of a place not far from here. Called the Fading Flower or somethin', run by an old Chinaman or whatever the hell he is. Follow me." So, Johnny and Trevor followed, down the fairly quite street toward the juice joint.

by **Mega Man** on Thu Dec 06, 2007 3:02 am

Anvil had had enough. He got up slowly and dramatically, slowly doffing his clean suit jacket. Through the shirt underneath, his muscular stomach was clear for all to see. “Listen buddy, this dame wants you to leave. Now how about it before I bump you off?” he asked calmly, but a rising in his anger voice was clearly audible. He towered over the irritable French man, and like a predator locking eyes with his prey, he just stared an intimidating stare…

by **Walter Barrecks** on Thu Dec 06, 2007 12:00 pm

Remy grinned, and pulled out a seat at the table, and sat, and leaned back in the chair. I tink I found a way into dis.. "Calm down "Gerald", no need to bloody da joint up. You're clearly taking payment from dis juice joint, an' I would normally hav' ta pinch ya.."He opened the coat up to show his badge. "But den I would hav' ta find a new joint ta get my 'tea'. I wold also hate ta lock up such a pretty face." He put on his cajun charm look, while talking in a manor most would find insulting. "I know you aren't no dumb dora, so I'll be straight foward with ya, unless dat is you don't like ta hav' friends in high places." Oui, dis will be fun...

by **Jadeling Hawkins** on Thu Dec 06, 2007 12:25 pm

Fiona took another quiet sip of her coffee, as though having three gorillas worth of a man threaten some French detective were highly uninteresting. Glancing past Anvil, however, she couldn't help but notice the three young men that had just entered. Well now, that's just ducky...
Shin, meanwhile, was twiddling his wrinkled and swollen thumbs at great speed, beady black eyes large and round. It tended to rouse suspicions to his modest little corner when private eyes were made black and blue. And suspicions were never a good thing in his line of work.
With a sigh, Fi set down her cup, crossing her legs and withdrawing her pocket watch once more from her front pocket. Eyes on the watch, she spoke.
"You seem mighty balled up, Dick. Do all Frenchmen speak such gibberish?" She clicked the watch back closed and returned it to its home. Reaching over, she emptied Anvil's cup into a nearby plant. "Shin, we seem to be in need of some more joe."
Shin bobbed his head up and down, murmuring dozens of "Yes, Miss Muirenn,"s and plenty of "Right Away,"s. He backed into the kitchen, taking his sweet time to find the pot of coffee.
"So." Blue eyes settled on Remy, cold and business like. "Don't take this too hard, but you seem a mite too ossified to be an egg."
She leaned back in her chair. Each word chosen carefully, never saying anything specific...or specifically incriminating. This was a dangerous game, and she was good at it.
"An' all the locked up pretty faces in the world don't amount to a single...what was it you said? Juice joint?" She chuckled a bit, "How quaint. But I see no..." She waved a hand about airily, "...evidence, of anything pinch-worthy going on here."
She then noticed the three young men that had entered...more likely than not, looking for their night's share of hooch. She shot Anvil a look, clearly not desiring any interruptions to these most interesting proceedings.

by **Axle** on Thu Dec 06, 2007 4:12 pm

As Johnny and his friends entered the dimly lit restaraunt, Johnny got the feeling they might've stumbled on some trouble. A large man, accompanying a pretty young woman, looked to be having a confrontation with some Frog in a coat. 'Hmm, some pampered princess of the mob, with a gorilla in a suit, getting questioned by a Frenchie detective?' Johnny had seen alot before, and wasn't sure if he'd called the situation or not. But he got the feeling, due to the tension in the air, that they might be getting thrown out soon. Or, they might witness another one of those "I wasn't there, I didn't see anything; and if I was there I was sleeping." Situations. Johnny looked at Adrian and Trevor, and they both kinda shrugged and eyeballed a table in one of the darker corners of the place. They made their way over there and sat down. They just wanted some booze, hopefully they'd be left well enough alone. Johnny picked another smoke out of Adrian's pocket and lit it up, kicking back a bit in the chair until the proprietor came out with menus for them...

by **Walter Barrecks** on Thu Dec 06, 2007 5:55 pm

Remy laughed. "You tink dat, but ya don't know. Fact o da matter here, cherie, is dat I don't wan' ta nab you, or close dis place." Just hav' to hit da right spot an' become amies, dat's all I'll need.... "You see, I believe dat no matter how many gangsters ya put away, dere is always more. Da question is, which ones do ya befriend an' protect so dey can be dose ones left. Also, I'm not a big fan of prohabition, if ya haven't noticed what's in dis "tea"." he said as he was handed a new cup.

by **Jadeling Hawkins** on Thu Dec 06, 2007 9:33 pm

Fiona tilted her head slightly, regarding the detective with a slightly different light. A most interesting offer, this was seeming to be.
But it wasn't the first time she had dealt with a private eye who approached her with offers of friendship. Best to touch and go before actually agreeing to anything.
"Gangsters, you say? Now, that's some messy business. Well, it sounds like you've got quite a lot on your plate there, Private..." She pursed her lips slightly, the tiniest of smiles on her lips. "...what was your name again, Dick?"

by **Walter Barrecks** on Fri Dec 07, 2007 11:07 am

Remy was amazed. Maybe di might werk...an' maybe I sitting in a boilin' pot....Who knows... He grinned. "Remy...Remy Bruyere. Da Cajun ace dat fixed up da mob problems a town down. Am I correct in assumin' dat de were your competiters?"

by **Jadeling Hawkins** on Fri Dec 07, 2007 11:49 am

Bruyere, she should have known. She recognized the name, but not the face. Who hadn't heard of the Cajun gumshoe that was cleaning up crime? She leaned back in her chair, idly examining her nails.
"My competitors? I should think not. My family works solely in real estate. You want to buy a house? You seem to be new in town, we've got some real copacetic diggs over in the east side of town..."
She casually reached over, lifting his lapel to glance at his badge again. "Hmn...Bruyere. That French?"
Touch and go.

by **Walter Barrecks** on Fri Dec 07, 2007 6:25 pm

Remy had a feeling he wasn't going to hear her say anything about payments or juicejoints in here. "I'm allset on dat, cherie. Your room doesn't seem like it'd be on da list." He grinned in his normal fashion. "Anyway, tink about my offer. I'm sure you wouldn't mind some help from da like o moi." He stood, buttoned up his coat, paid his bill, and put his hat on. "Til next time, cherie. Au revoir." Remy stepped out the door, questioning if this was a good idea.

by **Jadeling Hawkins** on Fri Dec 07, 2007 10:41 pm

"Yeah...don't take any wooden nickels, Bruyere."
Fiona watched Remy exit, eyes alight with interest. "Quite the forward Bull, ain't he, Anvil?"
She stood, smoothing out her shirt, and made her way over to the young men that had entered, examining her pocket watch once more as she went. Clicking it shut, she looked up at them, smoothing a few strands of blond hair back into place. "I'm assuming you're here for your own dose of special...tea. Well, come on, then. One of you rag-a-muffins come with me, let's chatter." Without waiting to see who followed, or indeed if anyone did, she turned on her heel and headed towards the kitchen, nodding to Shin as she went.
Through the flappy kitchen door, over to the freezer, large and even grimier than any other part of the restaurant. She waited as this door was opened, stepped inside, and headed right over to a bunch of particularly nasty fish heads. These two were shoved to the side, revealing a metal clasped door. Past this, and the mobster, the six pack and the thirsty boy entered a dimly lit hallway. A buzzer was pressed, signaling a new entry, and in through another door...down a long, dirt path...one more door...
And there was the Fading Blossoms juice joint, in all its glory. Brightly lit, a long, marble carved bar, filled to the brim with delighted and noisy drinkers. Rich, brightly colored carpet and brilliantly decorated walls. A half dozen young Asian women, dressed to the nines in silky kimonos and ridiculous wooden clogs, wandered around, taking orders and delivering them. Each was a daughter of old man Shin, and each just as beautiful as the last. The live band was playing the latest tune, energetic as all get out. It might have seemed miraculous that the common man....or visiting detective....had not heard this cheery racket, but every wall and nook and crack were stuffed with a very special adhesive...sealing each sound in the room.
"So." Fiona smirked, just the slightest bit. This was just about her favorite place in the city. "Anyone thirsty?"

by **Axle** on Sun Dec 09, 2007 1:51 am

All three of them were gazing a little longingly as the woman walked over, having concluded her business with the detective. She beckoned one of them to follow her, and Johnny wasted no time in beating the other two to the punch. "I'll bring a bottle back boys, don't you worry!" Johnny said as he followed the young vixen through the kitchen, and through the winding ways to the secret bar. The restaraunt front was dimly lit, and a little crumby. But the bar, my oh my; it was a grand place indeed.

"So, anyone thirsty?" was all the young woman said as they entered. She hadn't really looked back to see who'd followed her, so Johnny stepped up beside her and said, "I'd love a drink miss." Johnny said with one of his signature smiles. He extended a hand and said, "The name's Johnny Duvick, a pleasure, miss?..." Johnny hoped he wasn't being too forward with a woman who'd gotten him direct access to such a lavish joint, but, he figured; why the hell not?

by **Jadeling Hawkins** on Sun Dec 09, 2007 1:59 pm

Fiona chuckled a bit, admiring the kid's pluck as she took his hand. "Fiona Muirenn. Among other things. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, an' all that."
"So sorry about the wait, Miss Muirenn," A heavy, feminine New Yorker's accent spoke from behind them, and around came a lady just as ancient as old man Shin. "Your usual table?"
Fiona nodded at the woman, who strode off in the direction of a table near the back, nicely hidden behind a paper wall. Settling herself into one of the padded seats, Fiona crossed her legs and folded her hands, all grace and business. "Three cups of your finest, Sarah."
As the aged lady strode off, Fiona turned back to Johnny. "So, Mr. Duvick. What brings you to this fine establishment?"
Again, in the presence of one who was not yet friend nor foe, her years in private school learning the finest of language shone through, laced with the Irish accent of the Muirenn Clan. This kid had shown some hefty balls following two strangers, one who looked very much as though he could have eaten him and not even noticed it, into an unknown, dimly lit area. Either that, or he was just plain stupid. Both could be useful things in her line of work.
Sarah slid back into the area, doling out three tea cups..with absolutely no trace of tea. The foggy white liquid contained in the cups was the house specialty, and about as illegal as any liquid could get. More likely than not, it had been brewed in a porcelain tub, hidden somewhere far from the dingy restaurant. Each cup had a few mint leaves drifting about on the top, classy, if not traditional.
"Shin will be down in a moment, Miss Muirenn." Sarah bowed her dark haired head, clasping her hands and backing away once more.
Lifting a cup to her lips, Fiona smiled faintly. "Enjoy."

by **aeleon** on Sun Dec 09, 2007 9:15 pm

[Name: Evelyn Banoub
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Physical Appearance: She's quite tall and curvier than the average flapper, with more of an hourglass figure. Slim enough to fit into those little tube dresses, though. Her hair is straight and black, cut into a short pageboy style, with long blunt bangs, and her skin is a dark, milk chocolate color. Her eyes are hazel.
Profession: Flapper
Brief bio: Of Egyptian and Brazilian heritage, Evelyn's parents met in New York and, despite either one not knowing the other's language, they got together and made this beautiful girl. Despite being on the lower-middle class rung, she has been spoiled her entire life. She's easily pleased, but the unconditional love and affection given to her has made her quite a demanding girl. Recently, this has been reflected in her job at the Fading Blossom, providing hours of entertainment to some of the dirtiest dealers in town, subsequently coercing them into supporting her lavish lifestyle. Men have died in her name.]

The band finished the jumping tune with the lively beat that had the intoxicated audience tapping their feet as they conversed to their rhythm, but moved on to a slower, bluesy trip. The stage they played on was small and relatively makeshift, not too much higher than the tables that surrounded them, with little dancing space between the tables, the stage, and the bar. A smoke-cloud that formed from many a lit cigar and cigarette diffused the pool-table-esque hanging lights, and the atmosphere was heavy as the sombre tune lazily crept through the air.

She slipped out four beats in, strolling slowly out onto the stage, her tall form intimidating enough to stop a third of the conversation. For many, she was half the reason they went here and not anywhere else for their fixes, and she was a justifiable vice in a short-hemmed, low-cut black dress, fringed from bust to bottom and tight around her unusually wide bust and hips. two tiny straps were all that rested on her bare, milk chocolate shoulders, and her long neck was accentuated by the blunt cut of her hair. Her makeup was dark and her lips were glossy, but nude, and as she cradled the head of a long microphone stand with slender fingers and red-lacquered nails, she took a breath and the hearts of some newfound customers.
"Nobody knows, the trouble I've seen," she started, pursing her lips and tilting her head, dark eyelids half shielding her hazel irises. "Nobody knows my sorrow.." Her accent was homebrewed, a distinctly foreign mix despite her knowledge of english quite good for a first-gen. She sang on, remaining relatively motionless, save for the occasional shift of her weight upon her hips, the fringe on her dress swaying lovingly across her curves as her hand caressed the metal mic.

by **Axle** on Mon Dec 10, 2007 2:06 pm

"It's a pleasure, Miss Muirenn." Johnny said as she ordered three cups of liquor. She asked what brought him to the Fading Blossom, and Johnny said with a smile, "Just wanted to get some hooch is all. Just some simple guys, tired after the week and wantin' to cut loose a bit." After a few minutes, three cups of milky white liquid were set in front of them, and Fiona took her glass and said, "Enjoy." Before taking a sip. Johnny raised his glass to her and said, "Cheers." Before taking a sip of his own.

Johnny watched as a beautiful woman took the stage, and started singing. For a moment, he was entranced by her, but eventually took his eyes off her and returned them to Fiona. "So, what brings a fine dame like yourself to a place like this? Surely, you're not just here for a cup of 'tea'.." Johnny said, flicking his eyes over toward the big man who accompanied her, then back to her. Johnny took another sip, the liquor was strong, and already he felt a slight warming sensation in his cheeks..

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