electricleather
In the middle of a job, the fuckers over at Evil Law Inc. have the nerve to call me. Partially my fault because I don't know how to work the damn cell phone. The guy I just kicked the shit out of informed me that there's a way for the phone to be set on vibrate. I'll figure it out later. I snatched the blueprints from the architect’s office and ran down the stairs.
Dammit. I wouldn't have to make such a big splash up there if it weren't for the phone ringing. Who even chooses for their phone to ring to the tune of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame"? I glanced around and spotted a sleek little black car. I jumped in and reached under the dash, fucking around with a few wires. I'd done this so much it was like clockwork. Of course, if I forgot how to- I'd be screwed. I pulled out haphazardly and sped down the street towards Wolfram and Hart.
Two seconds later, the goddamn phone rings again. I glance down at the passenger's seat with the blueprints and my phone resting on it. I snatch up the phone and snarl,
"What?"
After listening to the associate at Wolfram and Hart yap on for about a good ten, twenty minutes, I snap the phone shut and pull up to the building. This job is a bit unorthodox for me, but I'll take what I can get.
I walk up the big cement steps of the place, all intimidating or whatever they're trying to do. Beating the fuck out of a architect really dumbs down my fear of fancy buildings. Like I had any to begin with. Walking in, I can't help but notice all the people walking through, no one paying attention to each other. Weird slimy demons, lawyers with horns and tails, secretaries or assistants- whatever they're going by these days, all walking by and gabbing on their cell phones.
Drumming my fingertips on the desk of the main lobby, I sit there and wait for an elderly woman to look up from her computer screen. Eventually her eyes tear away from the glowing monitor with the difficulty one might find in pulling carpet up.
"May I help you?" She says, peering over her glasses.
"Gwen Raiden. Here to see Lilah."
She tells me to go to the third floor, take a left, then a right, then another left and by the time she's finished, I'm already in the elevator.
I walk into Lilah's office, past her assistant. Can't deal with another one of those right now.
"Gwen. I'm so glad you decided to take us up on our offer." Lilah says, puttin' on her best faux-smile. She quickly realizes none of her lawyer charms are going to elicit a response from me, unless she's got cold cash under that grin of hers. She slides an envelope towards me and tells me that I'll get half now, half when I bring back some chick from an all women's penitentiary. Shouldn't be too hard. I nod Lilah's way and I'm out the door, back out to my car.
I sit there for a while, leafing through the contents of the envelope. Faith, huh? This chick's got some balls. She's a slayer? No fucking clue what that means, but from what I can see- she's just really good with the murdering. Wonder what her motives actually are. Not that it really matters, she's just the package. Get the package from the all-girls prison; bring the package back to the nice lawyers. Get money. It all seemed too damn easy.
Dammit. I wouldn't have to make such a big splash up there if it weren't for the phone ringing. Who even chooses for their phone to ring to the tune of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame"? I glanced around and spotted a sleek little black car. I jumped in and reached under the dash, fucking around with a few wires. I'd done this so much it was like clockwork. Of course, if I forgot how to- I'd be screwed. I pulled out haphazardly and sped down the street towards Wolfram and Hart.
Two seconds later, the goddamn phone rings again. I glance down at the passenger's seat with the blueprints and my phone resting on it. I snatch up the phone and snarl,
"What?"
After listening to the associate at Wolfram and Hart yap on for about a good ten, twenty minutes, I snap the phone shut and pull up to the building. This job is a bit unorthodox for me, but I'll take what I can get.
I walk up the big cement steps of the place, all intimidating or whatever they're trying to do. Beating the fuck out of a architect really dumbs down my fear of fancy buildings. Like I had any to begin with. Walking in, I can't help but notice all the people walking through, no one paying attention to each other. Weird slimy demons, lawyers with horns and tails, secretaries or assistants- whatever they're going by these days, all walking by and gabbing on their cell phones.
Drumming my fingertips on the desk of the main lobby, I sit there and wait for an elderly woman to look up from her computer screen. Eventually her eyes tear away from the glowing monitor with the difficulty one might find in pulling carpet up.
"May I help you?" She says, peering over her glasses.
"Gwen Raiden. Here to see Lilah."
She tells me to go to the third floor, take a left, then a right, then another left and by the time she's finished, I'm already in the elevator.
I walk into Lilah's office, past her assistant. Can't deal with another one of those right now.
"Gwen. I'm so glad you decided to take us up on our offer." Lilah says, puttin' on her best faux-smile. She quickly realizes none of her lawyer charms are going to elicit a response from me, unless she's got cold cash under that grin of hers. She slides an envelope towards me and tells me that I'll get half now, half when I bring back some chick from an all women's penitentiary. Shouldn't be too hard. I nod Lilah's way and I'm out the door, back out to my car.
I sit there for a while, leafing through the contents of the envelope. Faith, huh? This chick's got some balls. She's a slayer? No fucking clue what that means, but from what I can see- she's just really good with the murdering. Wonder what her motives actually are. Not that it really matters, she's just the package. Get the package from the all-girls prison; bring the package back to the nice lawyers. Get money. It all seemed too damn easy.