Stahma Tarr is no one's fool (noonesfool) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-03-30 16:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, stahma tarr |
Who: Stahma and some NPCs
What: Sometimes one must get their hands dirty.
When: Tonight
Where: Clandestine meeting in an undisclosed location outside of Orange County
Warnings: Violence, some blood and NPC deaths. Typical mafia type stuff!
Status: Narrative, complete
Stahma wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, but that didn't mean that she always wanted to get her hands dirty. However, there'd been some problems her people had been reporting of late. Shipments getting raided, though not in their entirety, and other such nuisances. Everything that Stahma had tried to do to put a stop to that hadn't worked, so she was going to take matters into her own hands. She'd discovered who exactly was trying to encroach on her territory and set up a meeting with them. The meeting being in the middle of nowhere, of course, so law enforcement wouldn't discover them.
Now, Stahma was a suspicious person by nature, which served her well in her illegal business dealings, and she didn't expect this man to play fair. So she'd arranged for her best gunmen to come with her. With concealed arms, of course, she wasn't going into this guns-a-blazing, after all. She preferred taking a diplomatic approach to everything if at all possible. When diplomacy failed, then the guns would come out. Stahma had her own firearm on her. She opted for dressing in black for once for this meeting. White tended to be too revealing and someone would easily spot a concealed gun on her. A black dress was easier to hide things in, especially since her white ones tended to be a bit skin-tight.
Upon arriving at the meeting place, Stahma got out of the car like she owned the world. She stood tall, her human disguise in place. The only downside for wearing black was that her pink blood would show up on it whereas red blood would be better hidden. This was why she hoped these people were responsive to diplomacy.
"So, you're Ms. Tarr?" One of the men gathered by another couple cars asked.
"I am. I believe that we can come to an arrangement regarding the difficulties that have been going on between us." Stahma responded, stepping out a little as a couple of her guys flanked her.
"Yes, we can. It's called a hostile takeover." He pulled out a gun and aimed it at Stahma. "No offense, but we can run this business better." A couple of his guys also pulled out guns.
Stahma had to chuckle a little. "Is that so? Well, you did not come equipped for a hostile takeover, no matter what you may otherwise think." She tilted her head a little and her men all drew their guns. She'd come with more people in tow than her adversary did. "You should think this through before you do anything foolish."
The guy practically growled and cocked his gun. "Kill the Commie bitch!" A split second later, gunfire started to ring out. Stahma stood her ground, one of her bodyguards positioning himself in front of her while she pulled out her gun. However, he took a bullet and fell to his knees. Frowning, Stahma raised her gun and shot at the man she'd intended to do business with. She hit him a couple times, but he managed to land a shot to her upper chest, just under her collarbone. She let out a cry of pain.
Luckily, her men made short work of the other men so she strode over to the man she'd wounded, kicking the gun away from him as he sat there bleeding. His wounds weren't fatal. Yet. She pointed her gun at his head, doing her best to ignore the fire of pain and the feel of blood soaking into her dress and sliding down her skin.
"You should have taken my offer. Instead, I'll take everything you have." She then shot him twice in the head before he could speak and realize that she might not be human with the pink blood. She turned around, looking at one of her right hand men. "Make sure this gets cleaned up. And keep his phone and anything else that gives us access to his business."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, in turn giving orders and going about cleaning up the mess. Stahma staggered a little bit before she was guided to the car. Once in it, the driver headed straight for Stahma's home. Another put pressure on the wound to try and slow the bleeding. Stahma cursed in Castithan, pulled her phone out and called Natasha. Who clearly wasn't going to like this one little bit.