Jump to content
  • What Makes A Man...

    Guest Edwina Martinelli

    Recommended Posts

    Guest Edwina Martinelli

    Location: The Fox Pub | Date: 07/14/2012 | Time: 2:30 AM


    “Alright boys, time to pack it in. We’re closed,” the voice was stern for such a young woman and the expression even more so. Early morning closing time she was trying to rid this piece of shit bar of its last patrons so that she could close up shop and make it home before the rising sun to climb in bed and get at least a few hours of sleep before her neighbors started fighting again. ”Ah, c’mon doll. Jus’a few more!” Eddie started to clear away dozens of empty bottles from a scarred, wooden table into a plastic bin she held at her hip. Four pairs of eyes, glassy from copious alcohol consumption, watched her movements though none of them made any move to leave. “I think you’ve had enough and I already said, we’re closed.”


    Jesus she hated this job. But what else was she good at? She could sing, but girls like her who came from a neighborhood like this, with a background like she had, they didn’t make it big. And her probation prohibited anything that might allow her to make something of herself. Sure there was college, but her transcripts from high school would be a stalemate for that. Eddie wasn’t an exceptional student, but neither was she lacking in intelligence. But she knew how to pick and choose her battles and four against one was not a fight she could win, even if the opponents were inebriated. “Time for you to go.” As she was turning away from the table, one of the men reached out and grabbed hold of her tail.


    The additional appendage extended approx. four feet from her backside, covered in a downy dark brown fur with the exception of the underside of the last twelve inches at the tip where the fur was shorter and coarser so that she could better grip objects with. This guy wasn’t the first person to grab at it, or tug. ”I said, jus’a few more!” The violent yank made her drop the tub of bottles and ashtrays, breaking some in the process as it crashed to the floor. Eddie let out a protest at the pain that shot up her spine, the noise eliciting a drunk guffaw from the table as the offender gave another tug, much harder than the one before that caused her to slip and take a step back.


    ”I think she likes it boys! Listen to them squeals!” More raucous laughter erupted from the group as she struggled back to her feet, her balance thrown off as she didn’t have control over her tail. Before standing she managed to grab one of the unbroken bottles from the plastic tub and when she was back up, he tugged again, this time bringing her the last few feet to him. Eddie used the momentum of his tug to swing around, the arm holding the bottle arcing out so that the thick glass bottle came down against his crown. There was barely any hair there to lessen the impact of the blow and the force with which she hit made the bottle shatter against his scalp. But the result is what she hoped for; he released her tail and cupped his arms over his head for protection and she put some distance between herself and the table.


    ”What the bloody ‘ell is goin’ on in me pub?!” An old, gray-haired man pounded up from the basement holding an old, Louisville baseball bat in his hands. His heavy, Scottish accent and his burley appearance was his intimidating factor even if he was more than sixty years old and blind in his left eye. “Everything’s fine, Mack. These fellas were just leaving. Right?” Two of the four men helped their injured friend to his feet, the third was already walking out the door. ”You watch yourself, girly.” Blood marking his face from where the glass had wounded the top of his head, the last three men left and Eddie was able to finish closing down the bar with Mack –the bar owner- and was able to leave an hour later. At 3:30 in the morning in the section of the city that the The Fox was in, taxis didn’t scout for fares and she without a car was left hoofing it. The incident an hour prior had already been put out of her mind, so she was nonetheless surprised to see four shadows extending beside her own made more menacing by the flickering street lights every fifteen feet along the sidewalk. ”Hey bitch!” She barely glanced over her shoulder and maintained a steady walking pace. But the voice was familiar.


    Dressed in a long coat over jeans and a fitted, scoop neck tee, she tucked her hands into the coat pockets and the fingers of her right hand closed around the cool, cylindrical tube of a can of mace. Eddie had no real experience with guns and didn’t own one.

    Link to comment

    Isaac was beginning to seriously consider that he might be brooding.

    It wasn't an activity he tended to condone, or one he enjoyed. Rather the opposite in fact, but all the same, sitting at a bar, alone, nursing a few fingers of scotch for the last hour probably counted as brooding. He was reading, of course - though the book was well worn enough that the title was no longer visible on the spine - but all the same it was starting to feel like brooding. Which annoyed him... which might well have created some sort of vicious negative feed-brood-loop that he really didn't want to get into.

    And yet there was little else to do. His last few months had been bloody, filled with near constant work from the boss, cleaning up the rebellion that had sparked as soon as he had started to consolidate power. That was natural of course, there were always going to be middle management types and former big shots fearing for their loss of power. Even some smart and practical enough to band together, for what little good it had done them.

    Push was not a player in the game as far as anyone but a few trusted individuals were concerned. Not a face anyone knew, and he had no plans at all to become that sort of face. He got called in when things got messy, and he made the problem go away. There was a reputation that sort of work built up, but the longer he kept anyone from putting a face to it, the better. It wasn't the most fulfilling of work, and it had taken some time to adjust to working in organized crime rather than for the now defunct and corrupted governments. But it was a challenge... it kept him focused, and there were even times he managed to take some pleasure in the job. All the same, much like his previous line of work, it entailed a great deal of sitting around between missions. And for a man who also happened to have mutated in such a way that he no longer slept meant he had a great deal of time on his hands.

    A great deal of time to consider what he'd done, what he was going to do... the why of it all. Fuck. Almost definitely brooding. And to kick it all off, the alcohol did practically nothing for him. It was more the ritual of it than anything else - the bar, the taste... he remembered that things like this were supposed to help, and in a way that made it help. Even if an actual 'buzz' was all but unattainable.

    Of course, he was also paying attention to the rest of the bar as he sat. The sort of situational awareness one developed in his work wasn't something one could turn off, and he wasn't inclined to. Peoplewatching was a pastime of his as well, and so he did make a few notes at the men who were trying to have a little fun with the waitress. The Marine frowned slightly, taking another sip of his drink and closing his book when things started to get noisy. At the shattering bottle he almost stood up, but the barkeep shouted the situation down first, and Isaac went still, waiting to see what happened. In the end, it was defused... or, he suspected, delayed. Hm.

    Eventually, a few minutes after the men left, Push stood up, leaving his tab plus a generous tip - he had more money than he would ever spend these days - and walked silently from the bar himself.

    By the time they shouted at the girl, he had been following them, unseen at a fairly short distance, for some time. He'd had a feeling... and he was both unoccupied enough and disgusted enough with their obvious plan to put himself in a position to do something about it.

    Link to comment
    Guest Edwina Martinelli

    “Yo, bitch! I’m talkin’ to you!" There was an apparent bitterness to his tone; a man embarrassed that a mere woman had gotten the best of him in front of his friends. He was a man. No. He was THE MAN of his crew. And this little no body made him look a fool. Who did she think she was? The group of four quickened their pace; two hurrying around so that they had managed to box Eddie in with only enough room to turn in circles. The tail that they had previously taunted was out of sight, hidden beneath the long coat she wore, but that was neither here nor there. It wasn’t the tail they were after anymore. She needed to be taught a lesson. Taught her place in this world and they thought that they would be the ones to teach her this. “Ain’t nobody around to save you now. No bottles an’ shit.”


    His accent was heavy, and sounded like Brooklyn based or maybe Staten Island. There was some mixed heritage in his features, possibly Cuban and black. They all seemed to be of the same general racial features. Cuban and/or black. Eddie didn’t like having two of them behind her, but feeling that the bigger threat was the one she had injured, it was safer to keep him at her front where she could see him. “Remember me?” She could smell the alcohol he’d been drowning himself in all night and it made her nose wrinkle in disgust. “How’s your head?” Her tone was mocking; lacking any sincerity regarding his well-being. Of course she remembered him and they all knew the question was meant to be rhetorical. But…how could she refuse answering? “Oh you think this a game, bitch?”


    They each took a step in, making the circle around her smaller. By natural instinct the fight or flight response began to increase her heart rate and adrenaline. Her right hand tightened around the mace in her pocket, and she wished like hell that it was a gun she concealed instead. This would be the reason that she bought one later, but right now all she had was the spray in her pocket and years of self-dense plus kick boxing training. Not knowing if any of the four men around her had any special powers, it was all she had to rely on as at the time she was unaware of a fifth party silently stalking down the street towards them. “A game? Why? Are you having fun?” Someone behind her snickered and that earned a warning glance from their ‘leader’. “Nah, bitch. But we gon’ be havin’ some fun with you real soon.”


    Nostrils flaring, a hand came down on her left shoulder from behind. The weight of it so sudden startled her into an immediate response. Eddie bent the same arm and swiftly jerked it backwards, at the offender’s nose. Not even the padding from her coat could soften the blow of such a boney joint as it landed hard and broke the bridge of the guy’s nose. There was an almost instantaneous spray of blood and a howl as he covered his broken face with his hands and doubled over. “The bitch broke my nose! My fuckin’ nose, man!” Following that, his friend, wide eyed from a moment of shock, reached out with both hands to grab her and she let loose with a face full of mace. It smelled like pepper and nutmeg but it burned like a motherfucker. His face turned an angry shade of red as he rubbed at his eyes with his hands; his yowls of pain accompanied his downed friends.


    Two down. Two to go.


    “Looks like we gots a feisty one here.” The two that remained standing had backed off some from her now, but they had put some distance between themselves so that the ‘leader’ was still in front of her but the other was beside her, in her peripheral vision. “I’m gon’ break you, bitch. Make you beg for it by the time I’m done wich ya.” Crudely he grabbed himself and started to advance on her with his free hand outstretched and knocking the can of mace out of her hand. Fuck. Fuckity fuck motherfuck. Too far away from the pub to scream for Mack and not having a cell phone, she backed away from the two assailants. Back right into the wall of another building. Brick is what it felt like against her hands. Where’s a fucking guardian angel when you need one?

    Link to comment

    It was understandable that, as civilians, the men attacking the tailed waitress had lost their situational awareness. Push didn't make himself obvious as he approached, in fact his years of work in the shadows had given him an unconsciously silent step, and he wasn't the sort of person for that exact reason who wore loud shoes. Despite his generally imposing, six-four frame, he was dressed mostly in black, and this wasn't a part of town (especially after the Event) that had the best of all possible street lighting situations.

    Despite all that, Push was disappointed for them that none of them even noticed he was coming.

    Civilian 'mace' was actually pepper spray, usually a low concentration of capsaicin, far below that issued to military or law-enforcement personnel. It was generally effective in the short term, depending on the constitution of the person being sprayed and how much of it you actually got in their eyes. As such, from what he'd seen, he wasn't too surprised to see the one she'd sprayed regaining his senses. To the unfortunate man's further misfortune, he was the first one to see Push coming.

    [npc]Who the fuck are-[/npc] the man started, moving to block the Marine's path. Push's hand snapped up, without so much as an instant of tension to warn of the impending violence, and the first two knuckles of his left hand crashed directly into the man's adam's apple. It was a quick, snap jab without a lot of body behind it, but it was more than enough to bruise the trachea and cut the man's voice off into a strangled choking. Almost in the same movement the newcomer seized the man's collar and jerked him close hard, slamming his knee into the attacker's solar plexus. He felt the faint but gratifying pops of cracking ribs, then he released the collar, pulling back slightly and driving a hard right elbow into the man's left temple. His head snapped to the side, and he dropped instantly, going limp and collapsing to the ground.

    Naturally, that made enough noise to draw the attention of the other three. Before they could speak, Push, not so much as drawing a quickened breath from destroying and possibly killing the first man, held up a hand. [push]Don't. Let her go. Leave now. Or you don't leave.[/push] His voice was soft, with a slight Louisiana accent, just loud enough to be audible to everyone present but no more than that. His expression was neutral - no rage, no disdain, just a simple calm. His eyes were flat, almost disinterested: none of the drunks picked up on the killing intent behind them.

    Finally, leaving the recovering one with the broken nose and his friend to keep Eddie from moving, one pulled away from her, sneering and drawing a huge fixed-blade knife as he stepped toward the larger Marine. [npc]Listen here, she crossed us, and you don't get to-[/npc] As before, Push didn't have a habit of letting anyone else finish an ultimatum. He lunged forward, causing the man with the knife to flinch, trying to cut with it to keep Push back, as the Marine expected. His left hand closed on the wrist that held the knife, and he turned as he moved forward, twisting the man's arm back around and planting his other hand on his shoulder. He drove his knee into the back of the man's leg to take out his footing, driving him to a knee as he twisted the arm up. There was a sickening pop as the shoulder dislocated, and the man let out a scream as the knife started to fall from his grip.

    Suddenly leaping to help his friend, one of the men holding Eddie let go and swung a wild right hook at the Marine, who just wasn't there when it arrived. He drifted back just enough to get out of the way, ripping the knife from the disabled hand of the second target and bringing it back to slam into the flesh just to the side of his shoulder blade. Nonlethal... if only just. He let out a ragged cry as well, and Push turned, grabbing his arm and pulling him back into a stiff arm that brought him crashing down hard to the ground, knife still sticking out of his back.

    Push came back fully to his feet after that, his blue-green eyes resting evenly now on the man with the broken nose - the last one standing. [push]I trust I have made my point.[/push]

    Link to comment
    • 2 weeks later...
    Guest Edwina Martinelli

    The brick of the building they had her backed into still felt rough against her back even though there was the padding of the long coat between her and it. She was hypersensitive now to everything around her and caged like an animal she was ready to lash out at the nearest person. Three heads turned in unison at the unfamiliar voice. Her first thought was that another of their friends had shown up to join in the festivities, but he wasn't friendly. His countenance was stoic and his voice calm though the threat was plain in his words. Almost immediately following his words was action and violence. Edwina and her two captors were held mesmerized as they witnessed the easy take down of the man she had pepper sprayed. His movements so efficient that it was like watching a ballerina dance with grace and fluidity.


    It was an interesting scene to watch unfold. Another man left her to approach the new comer, revealing a deadly looking blade as he approached. He was at first cocky, wielding the weapon with a confidence of a man that used it often. But he had not anticipated the strength and reflexes of his opponent. When it seemed like his friend was losing the battle, another man jumped in to pick up the fight. There were two down now who were not, anytime soon, getting back up, one was still blocking her from escaping and the other was brawling with this nameless contender. She was unsure though if he was saving her or just happened to be one of those people that hated seeing women get beaten by the opposite sex. Either way she was thankful though that he was there.


    And another one bites the dust. Three of the four men down and one who was simply dazed from watching the fighting. And Eddie…well she felt another emotion entirely, but that would be a feeling that she was going to have to explore at a later time and in a more private setting. What was it about a man exerting his power that made a woman’s blood pump into the most inappropriate areas at the most inappropriate times?


    The last man standing, he looked back at Eddie as if gauging the importance of her over the man who had just single-handedly taken out his three friends. He made his decision and with his tail between his legs, figuratively, ran. She watched his retreating back as it grew smaller in the distance and then disappeared completely when he turned a corner. That left her alone with the man who saved her from the attackers and she wasn't all too certain that he didn't have plans on doing to her what they had planned on doing. But there was enough distance between them that she was out of his reach and would have a little head start in case he made any move to grab her. “I think you did make your point,” she responded. Eddie found her pepper spray can and retrieved it.


    “You were at the Fox,” though he hadn't been there with anyone. This man had spent the night alone doing more brooding than anyone she had ever seen. A few times she had tried making small talk but he had seemed disinterested in anything that she or anyone else had tried. “That was um…very impressive.” She looked at his handiwork and crossed her arms, still holding the pepper spray. 

    Link to comment
    • 2 weeks later...

    Push grunted, almost silently, when the last man ran away, not even bothering to try and help his downed friends. It was hard to say whether the sound was one of contempt or approval, and he certainly wasn't offering any verbal cues to clarify the situation. He looked after the man for a few seconds, long enough to confirm that the would-be rapist fuckbag wasn't going to decide to make a turnaround and so something stupid. Well, and because Push was still considering pulling the Sig Sauer out of his coat and putting a bullet in the stupid son of a bitch. He decided against it though and shook his head minutely, only looking back to Eddie when she spoke up.

    Huh. She hadn't run yet.

    [push]I was.[/push] he said, nodding, though at her compliment, he winced slightly, looking down to the men on the ground before he gave a shake of his head. [push]Wasn't a fair fight. Can't convince idiots of that without demonstrating, though.[/push] Blood on his hands he didn't need...but it was something. Not nearly enough.

    And now, here he was, with the lady. He hadn't really considered what to do at this point. Wasn't generally his area. He came in, did his bloody work, and cleaned up the mess. Well, so far it seemed like these three would live. Which meant he probably shouldn't go back to the Fox for a few nights. Not that he was going to stay away forever. If they had the balls to report him, which he doubted... he supposed his new paradigm included dealing with people like that.

    He should have killed them already. He did not like these considerations. As much a shitshow as it had been, once upon a time he had the government on his side. Well, the government had crossed the line first. He didn't feel bad about it - but it was a pain in his ass.

    [push]You should keep going. I'll follow until you get home, if you want. Otherwise, I'll go.[/push] His voice remained gentle, but it wasn't exactly gentle. Whatever he had done, he didn't seem to have done out of compassion. None, at least, that he would express.

    Link to comment
    Guest Edwina Martinelli

    Eddie still wasn’t sure if she should thank him; for who was the greater evil? The would-be rapist? Or the man that could take down a group of would-be rapist on his own with what appeared to be very little effort spent on his part? “Wasn’t a fair fight for who? You or them?” She smirked at him while approaching the closest downed felon and toed him with her foot. Convinced that he wouldn’t be making any more moves to attack her, she knelt beside him and started to loot through his pockets until she found his wallet.


    “Five bucks,” she took the bill and the guys identification before tossing the empty billfold onto the sidewalk and repeating the process with the other two guys. In total she managed to get twenty-five dollars for her troubles and all three IDs. She would be keeping them for a purpose all her own and if her rescuer were to observe out loud, Eddie would only glance at him and remain silent on the subject.


    “It’s close to sunup,” she folded the money and tucked her hands into her pockets, looking up at the sky that was slowly bleeding reds and orange to chase away the inky blackness of the night. “And I’m hungry,” her tail made a brief appearance as she uncurled it from around her waist to stretch down and peek out from beneath the bottom of her long coat, “and these guys just offered to by us breakfast. If you’re interested, that is…” Smiling and whether or not he took the offer, she started off in the direction she had previously been walking, leading out of the bad part of town and into a slightly less bad part but still worthy of being termed criminal area.


    She lived in this less scary part but that isn’t where she was heading now. Her destination was marked with the flashing red and white bulbs ordered to bring patrons into their establishment and outlining the calligraphic Josie’s Diner in heavy black lettering. The food was subpar but it was edible.


    From outside she could see that the night crowd was still lingering in the booths, which consisted of two couples and a two singles at the bar. They all looked worse for wear but harmless enough. One cook in the back and a couple of waitresses hanging out at the till, chattering about their measly tips. Both stopped and looked at Eddie as she entered, a chime above the door marking her arrival, and when she was deemed insignificant by their standards (and she could tell by the way they eyed her appearance from head to toe) they both went back to their conversation.


    Eddie claimed a semi-circular booth and slid around the leather seats until her back was against the wall. In the center of the table there was a container holding napkins and shakers of salt and pepper that held down a few laminated menus. Plucking one up for herself she started to browse the breakfast items, paying particular attention to anything that came with bacon.

    Link to comment
    • 2 weeks later...

    [push]Kind of obvious, I thought.[/push] he murmured, lifting a brow slightly as he looked back to her. What sort of question was that, anyway? The result sort of spoke for itself.

    To say that Push was a man of few words would, in general, be some sort of comic prize for understatement. In keeping with that, he didn't say anything while she went through the pockets of the downed men. There were a few reasons he could think of, off the top of his head, why she might take their IDs. It spoke well of her, actually - she was making a plan to deal with them in the future in case she had to.

    For his part, he did spend a moment making sure the man he stabbed wasn't bleeding out before he stood again. When she was done policing the wallets, he looked back to her, still a bit curious as to where this was going. In truth, he had more expected her to run off. That, really, would have been the sensible move for her to make. He'd just demonstrated what to most would be a fairly alarming capacity for violence, even if being able to down three men with no training and less sense wasn't a particularly special thing in and of itself for someone who did at least have extensive training.

    And here she was going to make a breakfast invitation? Push didn't sleep. He didn't have anywhere to be. So in the end he shrugged, and walked after her. His hands went back in his coat pockets, and he kept quiet while they moved, an oversized shadow in the dim morning light, trailing the tailed girl.

    The patrons gave him a bit more attention as he came in. She was pretty, but he was something to watch. A big man with cold eyes... it paid, when you lived in the bad parts of town, to keep an eye on people like him. He slid into the booth silently, lifting a menu and opening it for a moment. Finally, he opened his mouth and said something.

    [push]This a place you come to often?[/push]

    Link to comment


    This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.


    • RESONANCE - 18+ 3/3/3

      • A modern/fantasy, intermediate+ collaborative writer's rp. Caters to an experienced player base (25+) with a slower, more relaxed pace.

      • 41f3d9eb35f930d5dc44ad8ade983b8e.jpg   6d8f5289ec09a7848237ad4fd3a06e3f.jpg   007fff0d107209cabc4ba334e56e593d.png
        8bcb54940bfd412123dc5bf8b88660b8.gif   0524927e32365acf2423cae0ea7b74f1.png  360d172315c70289fec9fc00324ae36c.gif
    • Create New...