Red Currant #13, Mango #29
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: Cold Weather
Prompts: Red Currant #13: frost, Mango #29: breaking the rules
Rating: R for violence
Characters: Firebird Blaze, Paul Robinson, unlucky schmuck #8
Summary: Before Firebird was boss. Firebird isn't very fond of weather because she can't control it, but she especially dislikes the cold.
Firebird’s patience went out the window when her teeth started chattering. The temperature was in the single digits and, when the wind chill was factored in, it was negative degree weather.
“That’s enough,” Firebird snapped at their babbling victim. How the idiot could actually cry when it was this cold was beyond her comprehension. She would have thought the tears would freeze as soon as they formed in his eyes. She wished they would. Then he could torture himself while she cozied up to a space heater and a bottle of whiskey. As it were, though, she was stuck out on the docks in subzero weather with a man that was trying to give her the run-around by talking about everything but what she wanted him to.
“I don’t care about your family or your house or your cat with three legs,” Firebird gritted out. “I care about my family’s money. Where is it?”
“I’ve told you, I don’t have it-”
Her family was one that believed whole heartedly in delaying the death of their enemies as long as possible so they could inflict even more pain on them. And under normal circumstances, Firebird ascribed to that way of thought 100 percent. Nothing satisfied the cruel streak in her personality like having her victims beg her to kill them. But these were not normal circumstances. Her nose was red, her teeth were chattering, and she couldn’t feel her legs. She was Firebird Blaze, dammit. She didn’t have to deal with this shit.
Firebird brought her foot up and kicked the kneeling man square in the chest. He fell backwards, sticking his hands out behind him to stop his fall. Unfortunately, there was nothing but air behind him, and he tumbled off the dock. There was a sharp crack as the man hit the thin ice that had only just formed earlier tonight and broke through it into the arctic water.
Paul shook his head as he stepped to the edge of the dock to look at the man screaming bloody murder. “That was a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?”
“I’m freezing my ass off,” Firebird grumbled. “Nothing is an overreaction at this point.”
“Please! Get me out of here! I beg you! I’ll tell you anything!” the man screamed, scrambling for purchase on the icey surface but finding none.
“My money?” Firebird prompted.
“It’s all in my girlfriend’s garage! Stuffed in the garden hose! Oh god, please! Save me!”
“We didn’t check the garden hose,” Firebird said to Paul. It never failed to amaze her at how inventive desperate men could be.
“Please! S-save me! Get m-m-me out! P-p-p-please!” he was already stuttering, the freezing cold water leeching away his body heat with merciless efficiency.
“Are we going to get him out?” Paul asked her.
Firebird hurriedly took her hands out of her pockets to readjust her scarf so it covered the bottom half of her cold face. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I'd ever get wet in this weather.”
Title: Cold Weather
Prompts: Red Currant #13: frost, Mango #29: breaking the rules
Rating: R for violence
Characters: Firebird Blaze, Paul Robinson, unlucky schmuck #8
Summary: Before Firebird was boss. Firebird isn't very fond of weather because she can't control it, but she especially dislikes the cold.
Firebird’s patience went out the window when her teeth started chattering. The temperature was in the single digits and, when the wind chill was factored in, it was negative degree weather.
“That’s enough,” Firebird snapped at their babbling victim. How the idiot could actually cry when it was this cold was beyond her comprehension. She would have thought the tears would freeze as soon as they formed in his eyes. She wished they would. Then he could torture himself while she cozied up to a space heater and a bottle of whiskey. As it were, though, she was stuck out on the docks in subzero weather with a man that was trying to give her the run-around by talking about everything but what she wanted him to.
“I don’t care about your family or your house or your cat with three legs,” Firebird gritted out. “I care about my family’s money. Where is it?”
“I’ve told you, I don’t have it-”
Her family was one that believed whole heartedly in delaying the death of their enemies as long as possible so they could inflict even more pain on them. And under normal circumstances, Firebird ascribed to that way of thought 100 percent. Nothing satisfied the cruel streak in her personality like having her victims beg her to kill them. But these were not normal circumstances. Her nose was red, her teeth were chattering, and she couldn’t feel her legs. She was Firebird Blaze, dammit. She didn’t have to deal with this shit.
Firebird brought her foot up and kicked the kneeling man square in the chest. He fell backwards, sticking his hands out behind him to stop his fall. Unfortunately, there was nothing but air behind him, and he tumbled off the dock. There was a sharp crack as the man hit the thin ice that had only just formed earlier tonight and broke through it into the arctic water.
Paul shook his head as he stepped to the edge of the dock to look at the man screaming bloody murder. “That was a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?”
“I’m freezing my ass off,” Firebird grumbled. “Nothing is an overreaction at this point.”
“Please! Get me out of here! I beg you! I’ll tell you anything!” the man screamed, scrambling for purchase on the icey surface but finding none.
“My money?” Firebird prompted.
“It’s all in my girlfriend’s garage! Stuffed in the garden hose! Oh god, please! Save me!”
“We didn’t check the garden hose,” Firebird said to Paul. It never failed to amaze her at how inventive desperate men could be.
“Please! S-save me! Get m-m-me out! P-p-p-please!” he was already stuttering, the freezing cold water leeching away his body heat with merciless efficiency.
“Are we going to get him out?” Paul asked her.
Firebird hurriedly took her hands out of her pockets to readjust her scarf so it covered the bottom half of her cold face. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I'd ever get wet in this weather.”