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The Life Noir

Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

a part of “The Life Noir”, a fictional universe by Jadeling Hawkins.

Takes place in the 1920's, New York, New York. Told in the classic Film Noir style, the goal is to explore the reality of good intentions versus evil actions, the complexities of relationships when law, social status and past decisions are inserted into t

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Irish Wolf on Sat Jun 06, 2009 11:45 am

"I think I should be demanding your license" countered Patrick, not being cowed in the least by the man's voice. He had run off too many puffed up cops before, either with threats or because of his connections within the New York City police force (namely a few cousins). Whoever this fellow was, he had no idea who he was tangling with and was he wearing.....a woman's fur coat? Was he a thief or just a cross dresser? Either way, what power his voice might have had, disappeared.

"What rube parks their Jalopy in the middle of the road" muttered the gundealer, as he stepped over to the driver's door, wincing as his nice leather shoes met the heavy, wet snow. He yanked the door open and leaned in to collect Finn. The boy's nose dripped blood, as he was limply lifted from the seat and slung over his boss's shoulder. A groan issued from the lad, as he weakly look around with unfocused eyes and lifted a shaky handto clamp over his nose.

"Here" growled Patrick, slipping a hand into Finn's pocket and thrusting the boy's license at the cross dresser.
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Its easy to be brave behind a castle wall
Twelve highlanders and a bagpipe make a rebellion
A king's son is no nobler then the food he eats

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jadeling Hawkins on Sat Jun 06, 2009 12:09 pm

"What's goin'-" Brigit started to say as she clambered out from a window, wrapped in both her own scant jacket and the blanket that still had the conjoined heat from her and Patrick's cuddling bodies in it. But she was cut off as she slipped, and disappeared into a deep hole made in the snow in approximately the size and shape of her own body. A moment later she emerged, sputtering and shaking snow from her short hair, looking a good deal like a snowman version of herself.
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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby whiteangel on Sat Jun 06, 2009 1:32 pm

Neither Alice nor Sam flinched much at the sounds from above. If the mother or father were to jump and fret over every cry they heard -having seven children and several domestic pets - they'd be sure to lose their sanity and Sam would be even more gangly than he already was. Over time they'd learned that silence was often more suspicious than shouts and hollers.

Alice did notice the woman who'd taken to helping her with the hens. A smile sprung to her face in delight that another woman knew how to handle herself in the kitchen. But then she expertly claimed the chicken's feet and stuffed them in her purse. Alice looked worriedly to Sam, wishing that she had his shirt to clutch.

Clyde watched Charlie head to assist with the commotion above, and decided that Chuck had the right idea. He hadn't heard much about Ben and Dorothy, but knew their relationship had teetered farther than friendly for a while there. Maybe he could give Dorothy a heads up...



"Oh, darling!" Dorothy cried, watching as her knight-in-shining...feathers...was defeated by the evil mattress. She, being far from the typical damsel in distress, dove under the mattress in an attempt to save him. At least to make sure that he hadn't knocked himself unconscious when his head hit the floor.

Clyde climbed the last stair, looking up just in time to dart forward and catch a second, worn mattress as it was birthed from the ceiling. It was then, while leaning it against the wall, that Clyde noticed two pairs of feet sticking out from underneath a mattress on the floor. He stooped and hefted it up.

"Heya, Dorothy. Chuck. Ya know, I'm pretty sure you're going about things in the wrong way. See, usually it's on top of the mattress that-"

"Clyde!" Dorothy reddened, and scrambled to her feet.

Clyde smirked and offered a hand to Charlie, "All I'm saying is that you've got a perfectly good bedroom down the hallway complete with privacy and-OW!"

Dorothy has clobbered him over the head, and glanced apologetically at the other women standing nearby.
Don't expect life to be worth living...make it that way.

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kohananinja on Sat Jun 06, 2009 2:24 pm

When it seemed the sounds of the bats had died down, Adrian looked up just in time to watch one of the men from earlier come in to question all the screaming. She was about to inform him, that they had more guests of the furry winged variety, when he was smashed to the ground by a mattress from the attic. This poor guy had to have to worst timing in the world! The dame Dorothy however, was quick to rush to his side and see if he was alright. Her brother was also quick to get on the scene and catch the next mattress with ease before making a few comments on the correct usage of beds and a couple. The comment earned him a whack on the head from his oh so doting sister.

Adrian couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the scene with good humor. “Well now, you’re talking like someone who knows pear boy. Never caught your name by the way. I’d offer to shake your hand, but they seem a bit full at the moment.”



Gordie became quickly uncomfortable as soon as the Lady Morgana offered to take the chickens. The initial comment didn’t bother him, but he quickly became aware it wasn’t the chicken she was staring at. Now being the subject of a woman’s
lingering stare was not something new to him, in fact it had gotten him in a spot of trouble more than once over the years, but it was a little nerve racking from this woman. The fact that she was older than him, he was guessing somewhere in her thirties, wasn’t really the reason. It was more she reminded him of
well not quite the witchdoctors he’s met in Africa, but an awful lot of the voodoo priestesses from New Orleans and the Caribbean. He knew from experience that the magic they boasted of having was not something to laugh at, and you certainly never wanted to mess around with one of them.

“That’s mighty kind of you, but you really don’t have to.” Gordie said lightly, but it appeared she wasn’t having any of it. He certainly wasn’t going to be rude towards her, he honestly didn’t see a reason to be rude to any woman save the ones pointing a gun at you. Why did he suddenly feel like lamb in the whole sheep-wolf scenario?

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Walter Barrecks on Sat Jun 06, 2009 6:10 pm

Searching about for bedding with Fiona, the Cajun had come across several objects and creatures, including bats, spiders, and of course, a few mice. "Yeah, I am a dog person, but since dis guy ain't movin', I'll settle for a bat. I t'ink I'll came him Jacque." The bat squeaked and repositioned/resprawled out on Remy's head. "You know, I should train him to carry a flask 'round. Dat would be rather beneficial at times." He took a couple pillows and blankets over to the entrance and threw them down on top of Kitty. She had trouble finding her way out of the mess.

After a short while, he could hear Charlie being hit by something big. "I t'ink we hurt Chuck... I'll check." Remy placed his feet on opposite sides of the entrance to attic, and swung down. Hanging from his feet, and looking down, he was wondering if what he was doing was completely necessary. The bat still clung to his head, squeaking much more. " You okay Chuck?"

Kitty poked her head out from under the mess of sheets and blankets tossed onto her. "Jeez Remy, wha-" Seeing him hang from the ceiling, she could only wonder what swamp he must have crawled out from. "How aren't you falling?"
"She called me late last night, to say she loved me so.
But I guess you changed her mind.
Well I should have known it wouldn't be all right,
But I can't live without her
So I won't even try...
And if I get drunk, then I'll pass out on the floor now baby.
Cause you won't bother me no more.
And if you're drinking, well you know that you're my friend and I say
I guess I'll have myself a beer."
Reel Big Fish- Beer

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kohananinja on Sat Jun 06, 2009 6:36 pm

Kathy watched the Cajun’s little stunt of hanging upside down from the entrance with growing anxiety. She stepped a little closer to Adrian as what looked to be another one of those creepy little bats clung to his head and made a racket. For a moment she stared down the flying rodent, large emerald to beady black.

“Hey Addy, you know, that kind of reminds me of that book pop read to us as kids.” She said referring to the Cajun and his furry little friend.

“Which one?” Adrian asked, marveling herself on how Remy was managing that.

“Um
Dracula. The one about the vampire.” Kathy said trying to recollect the title. Over the years, Brody Dawson had read them every book from the whimsical Tom Sawyer, to the nightmare inducing Frankenstein.

“Hmmm. Now that you mention it, I see the resemblance. Say Cajun, you some kind of swamp vampire?” Adrian asked as she watched the squeaking little bat play in his hair.

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jadeling Hawkins on Sat Jun 06, 2009 6:42 pm

((OOC: LAWL!! Whiteangel, your post cracked me up! XD And everyone else's, too...this is hilarious!))

Fiona hadn't liked seeing the bats, but she was able to handle them now. The spiders, however...oh, sweet potato pie, Fiona hated spiders. She would have rather been locked in a room full of convicts armed to the teeth; ones she'd been responsible for seeing to jail, than be locked in a room with any one of the nasty, hairy, wriggle, skittery creatures that were to be found scuttling around in the Knutsons' attic. No doubt Remy was seeing an entirely new side of his partner...a flushed, squeaking, hiding-behind-her-hands side.

"Jacque le Bat. That does sound like the kind of thing you'd have as a room mate." Fiona replied, shoving what she believed were the last couple of mattresses out the door.


Charlie chuckled at Clyde's comment, rubbing his head and accepting the man's hand up. "Crimony, Clyde. We ain't even had dinnah yet." He left it to be imagined what exactly he was referencing, but looked up curiously to the hole in the ceiling. "Who the hell ya got up theah..?"

His question was answered when, to his immense surprise, none other than the infamous Cajun dick swung down and asked after his health. Charlie's brows rose in surprise, as he'd not been present when it was revealed who the other guests were. "Remy! What're you doin' out heah? I...uh...yeah, I guess I'm...Did you know you got a bat on your head?"


Fiona, a few feet above, was taking a moment to admire Remy's backside from this new angle. Hey, no one was looking, so why not indulge? But she was also feeling a tad vengeful, after the business with the bats and the spiders. So, aiming carefully so he wouldn't land on his head (he seemed fond of that bat, after all) Fiona hooked her heel around one of Remy's carefully balanced feet and tugged it loose, causing him to fall down on his stomach onto the pile of mattresses.

"Woah! You alright?" Charlie asked, moving to help his former co-worker up.

"Oh, Remy! Lawd, what an unforeseeable accident! You're not hurt, are you?" Fiona called down as she gracefully made her way down the ladder after him.

Charlie did a double-take, rubbing his eyes as he gawked at the woman that had just climbed down from the attic. "You!!"

Fiona claimed Remy's back as her seat, crossing her legs neatly. She flashed the Cheshire smile she always got when she was toying with the Detective. "Me!"

Charlie opened and closed his mouth, shook his head, and repeated, "You!"

"Good evening, Wally. How's life treating you?"

"The hell are you doing here?!"

Fiona took a glance at her surroundings, flashing her best puzzled look. "What, is this not the Ritz? Oh, darn...See, Cajun, I told you we should have stopped for directions."

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Walter Barrecks on Sun Jun 07, 2009 2:03 pm

The Cajun still hung from the ceiling, his arms crossed addressed the various comments with a smile. Oui Chuck, he's mon ami. His name is Jacque. Oh, an' funny story how I got out here." Remy didn't quite want to explain why he was hear with Fiona to Charlie, it might cause some problems. "Non girls, I'm not a Draculer. But I am rather handsome, non?" He grinned, showing his teeth. What made the joke better was that his canines appeared like fangs.

The Cajun's eyes opened wide as something was lifting his foot. He tried to grasp for the edge with his foot, but failed and fell on his stomach. Jacque had lifted off his head and flew away to save himself. Other than the wind being knocked out of him, he was able to cough twice. "I'm fine Chuck, fine like wine." When he heard Fiona's faked concern, he knew exactly what happened. Mental note: She owes you...

Remy rested his head facing Charlie while Fiona used him as furniture. "Gee, I mus' be da best seat in da house..." He wanted to get up, but it seemed he wasn't going anywhere for a moment. "Oui, dat migh' hav' helped."

Kitty started cracking up at the scene in front of her. "Poor Rem, I've never seen him this helpless."

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby daughterofdon on Mon Jun 08, 2009 11:58 am

((OOC: My favorite line so far: “Did you know you got a bat on your head?” Hehee!))

Wrinkling his brow and clearly unamused, Lance accepted the license that was thrust at him. It looked legit, much to his disappointment. And it said that the short scrawny lad with the bloody nose—Finn Ranney—was fourteen years old. Just old enough to legally drive. Horsefeathers—I really wanted to bust them, Lance thought to himself.

But then, Lance’s face fell when he realized that he couldn’t bust anyone even if he had reason to. He wasn’t a cop no more—he was just some chump wearing a lady’s fur coat. Sullenly, he returned the license to the older man, since Finn didn’t seem to be in shape to handle any official documents.

He was about to argue in favor of himself about where he was parked (there was no way he was parked in the middle of the road), but he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a female voice and a thud in the snow.

“Miss, let me help you,” he said, hurrying to the hole in the snow. His tone was much more relaxed and considerate when there was a lady in need. When she emerged covered in snow, he leaned over to grasp her about the arms and tried to pull her all the way out.

“Were you hurt at all by the accident?” he asked her in concern. “Here, do you want to wear this coat? I was borrowing it, but I’m sure you could wear it. I
 uh
 here, you take it. I insist. Would you like me to hold that blanket for you?” He quickly shed Morgana’s coat and wrapped it around the girl’s shoulders, a nice and helpful smile on his face. He looked like he wasn’t bothered at all to be standing in the middle of a blizzard in his flannel and suspenders. Helping ladies in need always warmed his heart.

-----

“Nonsense, nonsense,” Morgana shook her head as Gordon made a polite attempt to have nothing to do with her. She took the hens out of his hands and set them on a clean counter top. Then she took him by the sleeve and lead him to the sink.

“You have such manly hands, Mr. Dawford,” she complimented in a sultry voice, botching his last name. After she washed her hands, she held out his palm and gently padded it with a warm washcloth, chicken scratches or no. “I am a palm reader and a handwriting analyst—I know all about hands and the marks they make.” Then she leaned closer to him, oblivious to the fact that he might smell the alcohol on her breath. “Call me Morgana, won’t you?” She hiccuped lightly and bat her lashes.

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Phedre on Mon Jun 08, 2009 11:21 pm

"This is all fine and dandy, but we should get inside before we freeze. You don't look too warm now that you're just wearing your unders, Lance." Maddie raised an eyebrow at the man who was probably shivering by now, now that he had given his bulking fur coat to the woman.

"And if I'm not mistaken, that boy needs some medial attention." Hugh motioned to the boy who's face was bleeding into the snow, slung over the shoulder of the Irish bloke. "We can sort out all of the legal matters inside, over a cup of joe."

Maddie watched with interest as Lance assumed the role of knight in shining armor after he gave up his puffy coat to the poor woman from the backseat. Maddie smiled, shivering under her own puffy coat.
All knowledge is worth having.

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Jadeling Hawkins on Fri Jun 12, 2009 4:33 pm

"Mmn...I seem to have that effect on men," Fiona replied to Kitty's observation, fondly smoothing her hand through her seat's thick hair.

Charlie was still stunned at Lady Luck's presence. He had to shake his head again, one of his hands began to search until he found Dorothy's and pulled her under his arm. He repeated his question, "The hell are you doin' heah?"

"I t'ink she lives here," Fiona replied, nodding towards Dorothy.

"I was talkin' 'bout you!"

"Me? I came out here to dump a body. But then it turned out he was still alive." Fiona patted Remy's back, again, fondly. "What about you? Did you come out here...erm...'body' hunting, too?" She winked at Dorothy, then slid off of Remy's back and left him to help himself up.




Brigit was surprised by her sudden possession of what seemed to be an entire fuzzy bear, but she was certainly grateful for it as she dusted snow off of the tip of her nose. "Well, thanks, mac. Awful friendly of ya. Say, you ain't got a place around here somewhere, do ya?"

Lance was charming, smiley and overall attractive. Brigit likely would have been quite keen on him if she didn't have Patrick (and he hadn't been standing right there).

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby whiteangel on Sat Jun 13, 2009 11:45 am

(OMG...too funny, Jadeling! I just love the awkwardness poor Dorothy and Charlie have to go through. Blush, blush, blush.... :D )

If it had been physically possible, with the strangers and Fiona and her brother looking on, Dorothy would have withered like a sun bleached flower and slumped to the ground. First Clyde's comments about she and Charlie making the best use of a mattress, and now Fiona suggesting similar things about her body. Though she did smile at the blonde's ability to sidestep a realistic answer to Charlie's questions. It was evidently a great way to get under his skin. Dorothy tucked this information away for later use, not that she intended on annoying him anytime soon.

Dorothy turned to look up at him, patting him on the chest sweetly to calm his rattled nerves, "It doesn't really matter why any of these people are here. No need to isolate Fiona, love. They all needed some shelter from the elements outside, dearest." Dorothy tried to weave in as many sweet and tender nicknames as possible, and draped her arm around his back as she steered him a bit further away from the Irish lass who was climbing off of the man she'd used as a cushion in lieu of all the mattresses laying about, "So did you catch a chicken? I'm so proud of you for going out there, muffin!"

"Muffin? Gawd, are you still calling him that? Makes my lunch want to find its way up again." Clyde wrinkled his nose, and then turned his attention to the pretty little thing whom Dorothy had referred to as Fiona. He also couldn't help but notice a couple of other handsome women gathered around, "You know, Chuck here may want to get rid of ya, and he and Dorothy will likely want some privacy. So why don't all of you lovely ladies grab a mattress and set up in my bedroom? It's right down the hall, here-"


Alice was rarely uncomfortable when surrounded by strangers, but found herself feel so with the current company. Sam, with his ever helpful lack of things to say, stood there seemingly oblivious to the oddity of the situation, "Um, Sam? A little help here?"

Of course Alice was referring to the gathering of persons in the room and lack of conversation, but Sam walked over to the counter and began preparing the hens for the oven, "Sure thing, ma. Think they'll be enough to feed the whole lot of us?"

Alice's face crumpled, and she excused herself. She stood in the doorway, just behind Ben and Jo, and pushed the swinging door open so as to call up the stairs, "Dorothy! Clyde! Charlie! I could use a little more help down here! How are things coming up there?"

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Re: Life Noir: Night at the Knutsons'

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Kohananinja on Sat Jun 27, 2009 11:14 am

Kathy’s eyebrows arched a bit playfully at the somewhat questionable content coming from the rather handsome man helping to bring down the mattresses. She found him rather funny, and besides embarrassing his sister half to death, seemed quite agreeable. She of course was also a shameless flirt, so perhaps it was simply the similarities in personality.

“Well now, that’s quite the invitation. Any other time sugar and I might take you up on that offer, provided of course we cut down the guest list a bit.” Kathy said with a coy grin and just the slightest bit of suggestion in her eyes. She didn’t like the idea of threesomes, foursomes, or any other kind of more than twosomes. She might not always have made the best choice in men, but she wasn’t about to share either. “Unfortunately, my big brother Gordie’s here, and well it might be a little rude if he beat senseless one of our hosts.” Kathy explained nonchalantly as if she’d been talking about the weather.

“Normally though, I like to get the name of my hosts. I’m Kathy, what about you sugar?”




Apparently, there was going to be no escape of Gordie, as this woman Morgana wasn’t going to let him leave. A small nervous laugh was about the only reply he could muster when Morgana started complimenting his hands, as he didn’t really have the heart to correct her on his name. He had to admit though, she certainly had an interesting career choice. It was when she asked him to call her Morgana though, that he finally smelt the alcohol on her breath. Whether he’d had any interest in her that way or not, there was no way he was doing anything with her now. First of all, he didn’t believe in taking advantage of a girl (or older woman in this case) while she’d been indulging in a bit of giggle water, and second, he liked to think he didn’t need a girl drunk to want to open the bank up for him.

“Oh boy.” He muttered to himself lightly. “Well Morgana, I think I need to find you a bed where you can sleep this off.” Gordie said smoothly escorting her out of the kitchen, before using those ‘manly hands’ as she’d put it to pick her up bridal style and start up the stairs to find her a bed to sleep off her intoxication.

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