(no subject)
☆ NIGHT ONE ☆
New York, New York, 194X... _
It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon when she walked into my office. Strode right in like she owned the place, shrugging the raincoat off of her shoulders in her own small shower of the dirty city rain that never seemed to quit falling, on days like that one. Then she turned to me: diamond necklace, sequined purse, heels sharp enough to kill and a dress tiny enough to be barely legal, as red as the rouge on her lips. And she walked over with a sensuous sway of her hips and a rustle of expensive silk, taking a seat in front of my desk.
If only she had been half a foot taller and had any curves, I thought, she might be right out of a dime novel from the store down the block. But as it was...
"Hello, Detective," she said, bending forward and giving me a good view of nothing in particular. "My name is XY. I need your help."
I hesitated, knowing what inevitably happened to guys like me that took jobs from mysterious women in red. But ever since Jimmy had died and left me with running the business by myself, things had gone downhill. Far downhill. Off the charts and possibly through the floor below that...
She gave me a look over, then interrupted. Like she knew. "The money will be good, I promise." And she had a bundle of fifties in her purse, right next to the badly hidden little handgun to prove it.
"Before I agree to anything, let's hear the details of this job."
She nodded and left the little roll of bills on the desk, right within reach if I wanted to make a grab at them. But I resisted. For now. And she began to explain, that her employer had told her to come find me. A private eye, that is. Something about protection.
There was going to be a party, she said. On a private island. One of those really rich dos. Only some of the people that were to be invited... the host had it on good word that they were unsavory sorts. Smugglers, thieves, that sort of thing. Something about jewelry, and making sure it wasn't stolen. For me, it would be an easy job. Watching a box - or tracking down a thief, if it came to it.
Why me? Recommendation from a friend. He'd known old Jimmy, or so she said -
She was lying, I knew. Or maybe she wasn't lying, not precisely. Maybe she was an innocent in all this, just a messenger that believed everything her employer had told her to relay. But it wasn't the truth, regardless.
But, whether or not it was the truth, there was the question of money...
"All right," I said, after all the details were down. "So I take the ferry from the port at 10 tomorrow morning, and meet you on the docks. And you take me up to meet old Jimmy's friend, and he takes me around to see the place and the goods. That it?"
"That's it," she drawled in what I guessed was supposed to be a sexy manner, managing to light her cigarette after a few minutes' struggle with her lighter. And pushed the wad of bills closer to my side of the desk. "I'll see you soon."
She tripped on her heels on the way to the door.
And that's how it all started...........
BOO ☆ MERBOO
JILL ☆ PEPERIMA
LIME ☆ THEPRINCESSLIME
LIRA ☆ LIRA_CHAN
MUGS ☆ 3-2-1
ODD ☆ ISHOSOPHY
PELLY ☆ GYLLESPI
RAMA ☆ CHEAPCHEAPFAKER
SURGE ☆ SUGARSURGE
TESS ☆ PYRAT_XO
XY ☆ FIRST_QUADRANT
THE FIRST NIGHT
ELEVEN are alive.
:: NIGHTTIME PROCEDURE ::
- Special roles have 24 hours to contact me in the appropriate thread.
- Should the DOCTOR fail to contact me, it will be assumed the DOCTOR is protecting themselves.
- Other players may use this time to speculate on the identities of the special roles.
New York, New York, 194X... _
It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon when she walked into my office. Strode right in like she owned the place, shrugging the raincoat off of her shoulders in her own small shower of the dirty city rain that never seemed to quit falling, on days like that one. Then she turned to me: diamond necklace, sequined purse, heels sharp enough to kill and a dress tiny enough to be barely legal, as red as the rouge on her lips. And she walked over with a sensuous sway of her hips and a rustle of expensive silk, taking a seat in front of my desk.
If only she had been half a foot taller and had any curves, I thought, she might be right out of a dime novel from the store down the block. But as it was...
"Hello, Detective," she said, bending forward and giving me a good view of nothing in particular. "My name is XY. I need your help."
I hesitated, knowing what inevitably happened to guys like me that took jobs from mysterious women in red. But ever since Jimmy had died and left me with running the business by myself, things had gone downhill. Far downhill. Off the charts and possibly through the floor below that...
She gave me a look over, then interrupted. Like she knew. "The money will be good, I promise." And she had a bundle of fifties in her purse, right next to the badly hidden little handgun to prove it.
"Before I agree to anything, let's hear the details of this job."
She nodded and left the little roll of bills on the desk, right within reach if I wanted to make a grab at them. But I resisted. For now. And she began to explain, that her employer had told her to come find me. A private eye, that is. Something about protection.
There was going to be a party, she said. On a private island. One of those really rich dos. Only some of the people that were to be invited... the host had it on good word that they were unsavory sorts. Smugglers, thieves, that sort of thing. Something about jewelry, and making sure it wasn't stolen. For me, it would be an easy job. Watching a box - or tracking down a thief, if it came to it.
Why me? Recommendation from a friend. He'd known old Jimmy, or so she said -
She was lying, I knew. Or maybe she wasn't lying, not precisely. Maybe she was an innocent in all this, just a messenger that believed everything her employer had told her to relay. But it wasn't the truth, regardless.
But, whether or not it was the truth, there was the question of money...
"All right," I said, after all the details were down. "So I take the ferry from the port at 10 tomorrow morning, and meet you on the docks. And you take me up to meet old Jimmy's friend, and he takes me around to see the place and the goods. That it?"
"That's it," she drawled in what I guessed was supposed to be a sexy manner, managing to light her cigarette after a few minutes' struggle with her lighter. And pushed the wad of bills closer to my side of the desk. "I'll see you soon."
She tripped on her heels on the way to the door.
And that's how it all started...........
BOO ☆ MERBOO
JILL ☆ PEPERIMA
LIME ☆ THEPRINCESSLIME
LIRA ☆ LIRA_CHAN
MUGS ☆ 3-2-1
ODD ☆ ISHOSOPHY
PELLY ☆ GYLLESPI
RAMA ☆ CHEAPCHEAPFAKER
SURGE ☆ SUGARSURGE
TESS ☆ PYRAT_XO
XY ☆ FIRST_QUADRANT
THE FIRST NIGHT
ELEVEN are alive.
:: NIGHTTIME PROCEDURE ::
- Special roles have 24 hours to contact me in the appropriate thread.
- Should the DOCTOR fail to contact me, it will be assumed the DOCTOR is protecting themselves.
- Other players may use this time to speculate on the identities of the special roles.