Evangeline Sablier believes in unicorns. (dreamsmadeflesh) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-02-12 22:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | jaenelle angelline, roxanne |
Who: Evie and Wren
What: Pwning some douchebags, and making new friends!
Where: Bad neighborhood!
When: The night before Valentine Carnival fun
Rating: S for stabbity stabbing?
Evie was prone to getting on buses and forgetting to get off, this wasn’t new behavior for her by any means. Sometimes she just liked to see where they’d take her, and get some reading done in the meantime. She currently had her nose buried in a book that she was almost done with when the bus driver hollered out that they were approaching the final stop and he’d be out of service. Crap. What time was it?
“Where are we?” Evie asked approaching the driver in order to disembark, he gave her an odd look and told her exactly where. She had an excellent sense of direction, so she was far from lost. She knew this whole city like the back of her hand, but she also knew it well enough to know that this wasn’t the best neighborhood to be in at this hour. She smiled at him politely, thanked him for the bus ride, tipped him, and headed down the steps to the curb. He told her to be careful getting home and she assured him she would.
Evie supposed she ought to call for a ride, so she called her Papa and left him a message, then she called Sol and left him a message, but she didn’t exactly ASK for said ride in the message, she didn’t want them worrying once they got them. She started walking, assuming she’d get hold of someone eventually. Besides, it wasn’t a great neighborhood but there was hardly a gang war going on right in front of her.
However, Evie wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t afraid but she wasn’t stupid. She was alert, her guard was up, and she was armed. She had pepper spray on her keys, and a knife in her boot that Luc would kill her if she left home without. Of course Luc would kill her if he knew she was out in a bad neighborhood this late at night with no escort, but anyone who knew her would have her head for this one. She’d think about how to get out of trouble later, but for now she would just keep walking until someone phoned her back and came to get her. She wasn’t lazy, and it wasn’t raining so walking wasn’t out of the question for the time being. She was dressed warmly, jeans, boots, a sweater, her wool coat and a scarf. She had her bag over one shoulder and across the front, held securely in place. She knew how to carry herself, and while this was a bad neighborhood, she also knew that there were predators everywhere, she wasn’t going to judge this place any more than any other place. Things were rough all over.
Wren was working. She’d gotten back from visiting Quinn at the hospital, and after a day spent finding the right Valentine’s Day card for Luke, all she wanted to do was forget about everything in the whole world. Luca’s words kept playing in her mind, some sort of dress down on loop. Maybe she wasn’t anything at all, like he said. She sighed, a frown marring her brow as she walked down the side alley and out to the main street, leaving a dazed, marked man behind.
Wren’s dress was red, impossible to miss and completely inappropriate for her age, and she made it to the corner when she noticed the woman on the opposite side of the street. Now, the area Wren was in that evening was one of the worst she ever worked in. The men lining the street were the kind to do more than catcall, and the women would do anything their pimps told them to.
Waiting for a car to pass, Wren crossed the street in a hurry, falling into step beside the woman, who she didn’t think was any older than she was, now that she saw her closely. “I think you’re lost,” she said, reaching for the woman’s sleeve and tugging her to a stop before she crossed over to where a group of young men, gang members, stood.
Evie was doing a good job of keeping her wits about her, but there was something she didn’t respond well too, and that was uninvited touching and tugging and what have you. If she hadn’t noticed Wren walking up beside her she would have done more than just clench her fists and stiffen her muscles in her body. She stopped and backed up a half a step so as not to be in her space, and vice versa. “Oh I’m not lost, I’m on my way home,” she said as calmly as she could. “I promise,” she added for emphasis because she had it in her head that last ‘I promise’ actually worked on people.
Evie took stock of her surroundings one more time and smiled at the girl who had stopped her and looked her over one more time, “I like that color,” she added as an afterthought. Appropriate and inappropriate didn’t mean much to Evie, but she found she was quite fond of it. “But you look chilly. You should get a scarf.”
The conversation just made Wren more certain that this girl (she’d decided she was, in fact, a girl) didn’t belong there. She smiled at the compliment about the color, though, a warm and friendly smile, and she smoothed the fabric. “I bought it with a friend. She liked red. I usually don’t wear it,” she said, adding, “she moved away.” A movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention, and she glanced toward the young men, who were moving toward them, catcalls announcing their presence as much as the movement did. She looped her arm in the girl’s, even though she got a sense that touching wasn’t the best idea, and tried to encourage her to go the other direction. “Maybe you should take another way home,” she suggested.
“I like red too, but I don’t try and pull it off very often, it looks really pretty,” Evie said politely, and sincerely. Evie was nothing if not sincere. “My friend moved away recently too,” she added. Evie caught the movement too and her eyes darted over and the catcalls just made her stiffen further, her eyes turned a bit colder as she looked at the group of them. Boys. Stupid little boys, she’d heard plenty of stories about them.
Evie didn’t shy away from Wren taking her arm, if only because she assumed she did it to feel better herself. She stood her ground and shook her head once, her stance straightening much like an animal trying to appear larger to a predator. “I shouldn’t have to take another way home,” she said her eyes trained on the group approaching.
The boys - young men, really - came closer, and Wren tugged harder. She wasn’t worried for herself. Whatever these boys wanted, she could give them, but she didn’t think that was the case for this girl, not with her fine clothes and all covered up the way she was. “You shouldn’t have to,” she agreed, tugging anyway, “but it’s safer if we do.” The men inched closer, getting louder as they walked.
Evie thought more and more that the other girl was scared, just by the way she was tugging on her and she turned to look at her but kept attempting to be aware of her surroundings and the possibility of approaching trouble. “You know what happens when little boys get their way all the time,” she pointed her thumb towards the group, “That. I don’t want you to get hurt, I promise to look after you, but that kind of behavior regardless of their intentions is unacceptable.”
Wren looked at Evie like she was maybe a little crazy, and she tugged again, even as the young men neared and circled them like vultures. She reached under her skirt for her knife, and it glinted a moment in the night, but they didn’t look worried or impressed by it, and she was (admittedly) worried about just throwing it with this unknown girl present. “We’ll call the police,” she said, instead, with bravado, which only elicited a pat to each of their butts.
They weren’t impressed with the idea of calling the police, which was fine. Eventually Evie would call her Papa, and Sol. And this pack of wild dogs had no idea who they had decided to tangle with that evening. Evie was a fair fight, and she was starting to notice that Wren was probably a fair fight as well. But if even one hair on her head (or Wren’s now that Evie had decided to keep her) was out of the place the battlefield that these dogs would step onto against her Papa and her Sol was unimaginable for most people. It wasn’t for Evie, and while she didn’t exactly relish the idea of putting Sol or her Papa in that position she also knew that there would be no stopping them.
Evie wasn’t much of a knife thrower, that was a skill she was still working on, she could throw a skillet, or a hammer, or a brick, but those were blunt instruments and a bit easier to aim and throw. Unfortunately she didn’t have any of those things on her, but she had her knife tucked safely in her boot and though her new friend had reached for a weapon Evie didn’t have the time or the moment of grace necessary to retrieve it before these idiots started touching.
Evie did, however, have the split second after the uninvited hand touched her behind to grab the little bastard by the wrist, pivot on one foot and use the strength of her body (as well as the moment of pure shock when he realized that she wasn’t playing around) to duck down and grab her knife out of her boot In one fluid movement she was on her way back up and her grip tightened on his wrist and she bent his arm back in a way that was not at all natural and held the knife directly against his side sure it would be a debilitating strike, if not a lethal one, should she decide to push it into his flesh. Which she was seriously debating.
Evie was slight, but she was not weak and she knew how to use every part of her body. She was fearless when it came to silly things like getting physically hurt, and even as she realized his “pack” was getting restless it didn’t stop her from holding him tightly. It had all happened fast and she had her teeth bared in a feral snarl, she was ready to fight all of them after that, “Excuse me,” she said fury and cold rage settling in her deep blue eyes.
Wren’s surprise registered on her face for a split second before she decided keeping up a good front was not a priority, especially not when this girl reminded her of Luke and Quinn with her fighting skills. She let her blade fly, aiming (and finding) the soft flesh at the side of one of the men’s bellies. It wasn’t a mortal wound, not by any stretch of the imagination, and when he ran at her she ducked and grabbed the knife out of his stomach with ease, covering her head to avoid the blows he was trying to rain down, and just jabbing with the blade low, at his thighs. When she heard the other girl speak, the fury and rage in her voice made her think the boys should heed that warning and go, but they didn’t. Two became four, and Wren, who had just managed to get a good artery hit on the guy over her, looked up past the blood squirting in her face. “We should go now.”
Of course they didn’t heed the warning and go, stupid packs of wild animals were smart enough to figure out when the prey became the predator and if this group wasn’t quick enough to figure it out, Evie wouldn’t dignify them with calling them animals. Even as she was grabbed by another one of them she didn’t lose her concentration simply taking the opportunity to stab the knife in deep to the one she was holding onto, she felt the blood warm her hands before she thought to pull it out and stop twisting it around. She did a quick jab back at the one behind her with her elbow right to the solar plexus. It was a jab that was made harder because she used the jerk in front of her to push off from and put her whole weight behind it. She turned then and with a well placed knee to the new person’s balls. Before too long he was on the ground and she had her knee on his chest, the other was on the cold pavement holding him down with a terrifying smile on her face. She moved the knife downward and pressed the tip of it against the front of his pants, “You think they hurt now? Wait until I cut them off.”
She was about to do it, because Luc said if you’re going to threaten something you’d better do it when you have a chance. It would be too easy for someone to get the drop on her if she hesitated too long. She was going through the motions of this situation with blinders on, it had logically registered that Wren, like her, was taking good care of herself, and she didn’t have to protect her. When she heard Wren’s voice but didn’t look with more than her eyes for a quick moment to assess the situation. “You okay?” she asked Wren as her eyes darted back to her prey.
Wren nodded. “You’re like my friend,” she said, standing and backing away to try to see if anyone was still standing (they weren’t), and if anyone wasn’t breathing (they all were), and then her gaze went to the knife at the front of the man’s pants, so surely held in her new friend’s fingers. “She can fight, too,” she said, the comment slipping out in an awestruck, unthinking way, and she quickly corrected. “Back home, she did martial arts.” Not here, not Quinn, back home in Florida. “Where did you learn that,” and then a tug to her sleeve. “We should go before someone else comes or they get up,” she said, glancing down at the knife again.
Evie looked around at the group on the ground as she listened to Wren with one ear and used the other to listen for trouble, “Luc taught me,” she said as if that was all the answer in the world. She could explain later, but for now that was a good answer. “He’s a body guard,” she added simply enough. She looked back down at the man underneath her knee and her eyes narrowed. Before they got up. No. That wasn’t acceptable. “Don’t get up,” she said fiercely and made good on her earlier thread and pressed the knife down with one hard jab as hard as she could, he screamed, God did he scream. She pulled the knife out and stood up and linked her arm through Wren’s and pulled her off in another direction. “We need to call someone to get us.”
Wren hadn’t actually expected her to do that with the knife. She’d considered it herself, when she’d first started marking men, as something more impactful. But she’d found she couldn’t stab like that, and the scream rung in her ears as she was pulled in another direction. “Okay,” she agreed, still looking over her shoulder. “Who do we call?” And then, after a thoughtful pause, “are you a Mask?” Maybe she was someone without a communicator, or just someone Wren had never met before.
Evie might have let him go a little less unscathed, but she could practically hear Luc’s voice in her head calling her an idiot for leaving someone able to chase her down again. She had risked things before, Luc had risked things before, her Papa...All of them. And they’d all paid for it. And now the men currently lying in the street had paid for themselves as well. Everything had a price. She’d been taught that very early on. “We can call my Papa’s driver. We...” she looked behind her and sighed for a moment. “We shouldn’t call my Papa right now,” she knew what would happen then, and it wouldn’t be a pretty sight.
Evie tilted her head a bit, almost like a confused puppy when she asked if she was a Mask and she smiled slightly and shook her head, “Not even close, I’m Evangeline,” she said as she dug in her purse for her phone and kept her arm wrapped tightly around Wren’s.
“I’m Wren,” Wren said, adding, “you’re sure you aren’t a mask?” as she looked over her shoulder at the men, who were beginning to rouse. She moved quicker, then, faster. “Who are you calling?” she asked. She was a little envious of the way the other girl said papa. Even with the assurance they shouldn’t call him, Wren could hear the emotion there. “My uncles wouldn’t be good, either,” she said. “They might hurt someone.” That was true. Hal and Charlie weren’t around much, and they were terrible at affection, but they were good at physical things, like beating people up.
Evie smiled softly, the warmth wasn’t yet back in her eyes, she was still on alert, she’d put that part of herself away. The vulnerable part who didn’t know how to deal with these situations anymore than the 12 year old she used to be knew. But she was still trying to be aware that she wasn’t alone, and this girl mattered to Evie more than Evie mattered to herself. Which was par for the course. “I’m sure, my Papa would string me up by my toes if I was out doing things like that at night,” she said trying not to think about how that conversation would go.
She wasn’t calling, she was texting at this point, “I’m getting hold of my Papa’s driver, Christopher. Sometimes when we get in over our heads he can help. He’s been with our family a long long time. I promise we can trust him, and believe me your uncles and my papa sound like they should go play cards together one night,” she said as she waited for word back on the ride. Or the cleanup. Anything she needed she knew she could get, but calling Papa was a last resort. He’d find out obviously, but she’d rather get Wren home safely. “We’ll want to take you home, I hope that’s okay?”
Wren nodded, though she doubted anyone who could afford to have a driver had ever been near Hamartia. She could refuse and get some work done, but after all that she just wanted to be under the blankets on Charlie’s and Hal’s couch with the kitten. Being scared made her think of warehouses and bags over her head and bullets that didn’t come, and so she didn’t argue. “Are you going to tell him, your papa?” Wren asked, because being strung up by one’s toes didn’t sound particularly good at all, admittedly.
Evangeline had been to Hamartia, Hayley had lived there before she came to stay. Evie definitely wasn’t the kind of person to be bratty about things like that. She smiled slightly and sighed, “Definitely, but not right this minute, he’ll know anyway. He always knows.” Her phone rang then and she picked it up. “Christopher, can you come get me and my new friend? We had a little spot of trouble,” she paused and then gave Christopher their location and looked taken aback when she finally took the phone away. “Apparently he’ll be here in a minute, he sounds like he’s in a hurry.” She assumed it had something to do with the neighborhood they were currently in, but she didn’t give it much more thought than that.
“That’s because this is a really bad part of town,” Wren explained unnecessarily. She glanced over her shoulder, where she could still make out the men in the distance, and she pulled Evie further away still. Christopher could find them further down the road, she decided, stopping under a very bright, very conspicuous light. “I’m in Hamartia,” she said, owning to it before she actually had to. “You’re not from Hamartia.”
She shrugged, “Things can be rough all over,” she said simply. She’d seen worse things than that happen in some of the nicest areas around. Hell, she’d been living the “high life” when she’d been hurt. Gated house, fine furniture, all of it. But it didn’t matter because the walls of that place had been soaked in hate and pain. And those things didn’t care much about bad neighborhoods.
They stopped under a light and she smiled slightly, “No, I’m not. But we can take you there if you like, we know where it is. I’ve got at least one friend there, now two,” she said forcing herself to calm down a bit, and get the cold out of her blood.