The Sky Cliff Building was supposed to be the place to be. Not that she had the busiest schedule in the world but she did have other things to do/. Things that didn't involve yet another building where some idiots were holed up trying to take over the world one building at a time. She pocketed her black cell phone once the updates were installed. She figured she would find that first door and head on up. And that she did.
Right on up the shadow bolted. Around one corner then slipping into a hall she paused. That is when something caught her eye. Not only did it do that... it brought back memories of her first nights in Harper Rock. She was a thief. Not just a thief but a damn good one. She could get her hands on anything in any building without effort. It was so easy back then it was painfully boring. Those were the was alive and kicking hard. Now she kicked even harder and couldn’t steal the key to a gas station restroom even if she didn't need one.
Seriously, that really had to change. It made no sense. She could do it then so why not now? She made the gadgets to get in, the traps and explosive with ease. It was time. She felt it. A glance down had her only pausing to bend and tie the laces to her pink running shoes a little tighter. Just in case.
Standing at the door she looked around and decided to go for it. This should be a piece of cake. Strolling through the small corridors she bellied up to the station that would tell her just what was to be found within this nifty little place. There she saw it with her own eyes. A list. She tapped her fingers on the surface beneath her hands. She just needed to locate that switch and it was all good.
In and out of the random boxes she went. Why leave them unopened while she was there? One after the other. Silver pen and this and that was found. If she found any more stationary she could sit down and write a sonnet about the tragic life of Jane. Fortunately things got a little more interesting than those prospects. Footsteps sounded in the distance behind her and she closed the door in front of her as if it was no big thing and she belonged where she was. The security guard who took notice of her didn’t seem to buy it.
“What’s up?” Dominique had other options but why not talk it out? She was cool like that. The woman was always ready to be the welcoming committee on property that was not hers. “Can’t believe it. Would you know it...must have been sleepwalking again. I was dreaming that my pet turtle got loose and made a run for it. Haven’t seen him have you?” HOPE and LESS lift slowly so that the round squishy guy nearly bursting out of the seams of his uniform doesn’t get all jumpy and trigger happy. “He is about this big.” Her hands could literally touch each other with little effort if it wasn’t for the small space between them. “His name is Rufus. Likely still wearing his ninja costume. Damn cute.”
The underpaid and overfed police academy drop out must have had his sugar high going on because he was feeling froggy. Dominique’s dark brow shot up and that set off a series of events she really didn’t plan on. One step led to a blur of black and ink and long story short man down bleeding like a stuck pig before the roast. It was becoming too easy and part of her was beginning to shake it off like wiping her shoes. It wasn’t like she didn’t try to make nice. The world was getting real around her and she didn’t have time to wear her rose colored glasses and wait for the campfire sing alongs to begin. Not anymore.
An hour later.
“Thanks.” Dominique delivered her verbal appreciation and left the shop.
Ammo would probably have been wise to pick up before she ever entered the building to begin with. The way she saw it she had time even if there was a convention of bad *** wanna-be’s gathering up on the higher floors. She made her way back across the few blocks between the shop she exited and the building where she had been. With ease she stepped back in and to her surprise there was a wall of vampire waiting that she had not seen in quite awhile. Imagine that.
Last edited by Dominique on 01 Dec 2015, 15:03, edited 1 time in total.
It had been a long time since he’d had the need to put his thieving skills to use. Vel had mentioned that she was running low on parts to make security and asked if he would be willing to go out and gather the items that she needed. Telling her no wasn’t an option. No matter how much he disliked the task, he wouldn’t allow her to turn to the auctions for what she needed or rely on family who charged an arm and a leg for **** that could be found for free. Family didn’t do that kind of **** and those that did were ******* greedy.
The first few buildings were relatively simple. He was in and out without a drop of trouble but that wouldn’t last and he knew that. The building that the killer had to break into next were way more secure. Guards were constantly patrolling and if he wasn’t fast enough he’d be caught. Luckingly Vel had supplied him with a nice amount of knockout bombs that would save him time and trouble. Micah gave his list a quick skim and headed into the next building.
Getting in the door was the easy part but as he went to turn the corner he had to sink into the shadows to remain hidden. A pair of guards had been heading in his direction and would have tripped over him had the killer not taken a few steps back. They were conversing about a recent break in. A woman covered in tattoos was all he caught before their voices faded away. Micah paid them no mind and continued on with his task. The conversation he had overheard never really left his mind and so when he turned a corner he stopped short. Of course.
Dominique.
Micah could recall the last run in he’d had with the former Paladin. She’d died that night, at the hands of Blake if he could recall correctly. Shame. He would have loved to have been the one to send her to the fade but things hadn’t quite worked out that way. “Fancy meetin you here,” he drawled and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at her feet. Bright pink Nike’s laced up tight. Micah grinned. “Nice shoes. How’s the husband?” It was a cruel comment, meant to cut her to the quick. Insults like that were usually Vel’s favorite form of taunting but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get one in of his own. “Oh that’s right. He’s dead. You have my most sincere condolences.” He didn’t sound the slightest bit sincere.
The shadow deadpanned. Mr. Track and Field himself. Back when she was still alive and kicking she referred to him being her running coach. She spent enough nights trying to out run him and his blood sucking family. In hind sight she was surprised she had the shoes on her feet that she did. Pink Nikes. He sent them to her after sending her back to the hospital in pieces for what likely was the third or fourth time. She had been there so many times she lost count. The shoes were comfortable and staying on her feet.
Currently while she looked him over she didn’t really care to remember. He had grown since she last saw him in the Handle Bar. His wife apparently was not keeping her eye on him. He found his way out of the yard and wasn’t he sweet as always. Sounded like Velveteen’s voice was coming through his moving lips.
“Resting in peace. Your consistent concern is…. well pretty creepy. So, does she know you are out wandering? Or do you have one of those microchips going on?” Her lips paused long enough that the top lifted to the left pulling the bottom with it while her eyes rolled upward. Big pires gave her a stiff neck. Not so much their power but the killer ones were like walking trees. You had to look up at the tem the closer they got. Hopefully he was staying where he was at. “When you are done with your wife reach into that black icy rock in her chest and give me back my sword. It would be great to use it again."
She was still a ****. That was one thing that would most likely never change but her insults left a lot to be desired. Calling him creepy was tame, and he found himself disappointed at her lack of imagination. “I’m sure he is. After all, he escaped being saddled to a barracuda like you for the rest of his life. I’m sure it was quite the relief to escape.” She wasn’t holding back and neither was he. That would be an insult to both of them and while he hated this Paladin turned vampire he did hold some respect for her. She had more balls as a human than the majority of the vampires in the city. That had to count for something.
He smiled then. “Aren’t you precious? I have to admit that I’m disappointed by the lack of venom in your insults. Perhaps a few lessons in sarcasm and **** talking wouldn’t go amiss with you.” The killer’s head tilted ever so slightly as he studied her. “You know...you’re always mentioning my wife when we meet. Do you miss her that much? I think that you have some sort of lesbian crush on her.” He reached out the pat her condescendingly on the top of the head. “Sorry sweet cheeks but she’s strictly team Micah though I’m sure she’d be flattered by the amount of attention you give her.” Yeah he was on a roll now. No wonder Vel like to troll, it was rather amusing.
He knew the blade she was talking about. She’d left it behind the night she’d died, when they’d all decided to show up at the Loser bar for a party they hadn’t been invited to. Crashing parties was something that his family and his faction enjoyed doing and that one would always be high on his list of favorites. “Awww you lost your sword? Come here, and let me sing you the song of my people.” He leaned in close and whispered into her ear. “No one gives a **** about your blade Paladin lover. Here.” Standing tall he dug into his pocket and threw a handful of loose cash in her face. “Buy a new one and get the **** over yourself. And while you’re at it, buy some new shoes too. You just might need them.”
Dominique stood still while he stepped in closer and the money went towards her face before it floated down to her feet. The insults were hardly anything new. In fact it was expected the moment she noticed his presence. He and his wife were about as infamous for their barbed verbal sparring as they were for their skill in pack hunting. Good thing she had a thick skin. It was becoming more like a steel shield these nights. It made it nearly impossible for even the largest asshole to make it thin. Micah couldn’t get through with the slight switch up and going straight for the paladin slam no matter how he tried.
Some liked to dodge their past when it was swinging at them like Muhammad Ali in the boxing ring. Others would be brought to tears over the truth and whine to whoever would listen that they had been offended by what was said. Not Dominique. She was a paladin lover to the core and she was not about to do anything but take it as a compliment. Denying it or regretting it would never happen. He seemed to be paying attention to her more than he probably should keep letting on. His wife and her ‘husband’ appeared to be their favorite jabs of insult to deliver in the repeated verbal jousting. At least all involved were upfront on their weak spots each time they crossed paths. She needed to switch things up and it was certainly the best time to start.
“Your wife, my... ‘husband’.” She paused long enough to make the quotes sign with her fingers in the air. “Let us move on to my original point.” Her eyes rolled. “My sword was deserving of more honor than being swallowed up to finality by your wife’s heart. After all look at the wonders it has done to your current disposition. So wrong you are on what about her that has my interest, Running Man.” Looks down then back up. “I see she still is short changing you on your allowance. Underpaid and underappreciated always makes for a sour ***. Must be why you are kissing up and trying to buy me another set of shoes. Sorry, you aren’t my type and rest assured neither is your wife.”
He started laughing. “Honey you wouldn’t be my type even if you were the last woman on earth and my ******* you depended on the survival of the vampire race. I like my women with quite a bit more class and a whole lot of brains, unlike you who gets her rocks off on going against her nature to sleep with a vampire hunter. But then again…..” He paused and looked her over from head to toe. “Maybe that’s why he offed himself after all. Realized that he was scraping the bottom of the barrel and was just too fuckin embarassed to admit it. So he took the easy way out.” The proverbial gloves were off and he was coming out of his corner swinging with everything he had.
Anything she said to him rolled off his back. She wasn’t going to break down his walls or penetrate his exterior. Just because she was good at running her mouth didn’t mean that he was intimidated. And while his wife was the best at exchanging verbal barbs he could definitely hold his own especially against someone like Dominique. The small bit of respect that he held for this one was something that she had earned, but if she didn’t brush up on her insults and sarcasm the killer could see him losing that real quick.
“Blah, blah blah. I see your lips moving, but all I hear is a bunch of white noise spewing out of that hole you call a mouth. That seems to be a sticking point with you.” He gave an over exaggerated sniffle and mimicked her voice. “Your wife’s heart swallowed my blade and I’m so butt hurt about it that I just simply hate myself for it!” He pretended to wipe his eyes. “Really you are pathetic.” He looked down at the cash he’d tossed in her face. “I assure you that was simply a small bit of pocket change.” It was odd how a few thousand dollars had become pocket change to him. “And darlin I wouldn’t stoop so low as to suck up to you. I simply suggested that you buy some new shoes as sooner or later you’re going to be doing a lot of running if you’re going to continue to be a hard ***.” He eyed her speculatively. “I think you’re getting fat. A new exercise regime wouldn’t hurt you, so why not get some new shoes to go with it?”
“My mom said if someone's grandma came to today it was because their mom was had better things to do.” The pigtailed pixie was nearly drooling out the sarcastic tone in her annoying high pitched voice.
Jane was young but she knew even then when she was getting baited into a fight. The twit in front of her waiting for a reaction had no clue Jane Doe had come to expect such encounters and remarks. The world was an ocean of ***** and asshole that you had to learn to swim in. Her mom was dead. Her grandmother came because digging up her mom and dragging her bones into the elementary mother daughter tea was a bit drastic. Even if it was to satisfy the ignorant idiots that had to see something to believe it or worse yet slam what didn't fit into their perfect picture. She smiled at the girl.
“You are right.” Big brown eyes widened on Jane’s petite face as the girl's mother approached them. “And that makes you really special.”
The disappointment in the girl not getting the reaction she was striving for might as well have been a warm cloak wrapping around her as the victor for the energy she felt as she left. Unfortunately it was one of the lessons she would have more difficulty recalling when it could serve her most.
Dominique’s eyes didn't blink as she fixed them tight and hard on Micah. It didn't matter how much time passed certain things just never changed. One of them was the fact she didn't owe the one in front of her trying to get her riled up a reaction.
“And if I gave a **** what you think I would care to take your advice. If I was pathetic I would ask you to hold on a couple minutes while I called ten bodies over to back me up so I could hand you your *** without breaking a nail. But where is the fun in that? Seems hardly a challenge to me.” Inked petite shoulders shrugged lightly. “It’s your lucky night, Slick. I don't give a **** and contrary to your worthless opinion I stand alone. So unless you want to do something besides shoot off your mouth I suggest you pick up your allowance and start stepping home before they notice you missing from the backyard.”
That was all she had to say. Micah wanted to do something different it was up to him. She had her fill of the verbal swinging. There was far more excitement to be found elsewhere. Paint was drying on a side panel back at Twisted Sister. She could grab a shop chair and watch it dry.
And hand flew up to his chest to rest where his silent heart lay and a mock wounded expression slid over his face. “Ouch. I think someone must have remembered to pull on their big girl panties before leaving their hole.” And just as soon as the mock wounded expression had appeared it was gone replaced with a sneer. She was just too easy to bait and while he was a little disappointed she wasn’t reacting in that oh so predictable way part of him was slightly relieved. After all he’d come here with a purpose and standing her trying to see who had the bigger pair was only hindering from completing the task he’d set out to do. “You could try to bring 10 bodies but you and I both know how that would end. Besides, you ain’t got ten bodies do ya darlin?” He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Unless you wanna bring Vicky the pussy and his merry band of fucktards but then again, that ain’t no damn competition. Try again sweet cheeks.”
He closed the distance between the pair and reach out to wrap a single hand around her throat in a vice like grip. “You are pathetic and we both know that. Look at your history. Shacking up with the leader of the Order, after you were given the gift of immortality? You should be killed on sight. Over and over again. You are a traitor to vampire kind and no matter how hard you try to shed your skin you’ll carry that taint on you for the rest of eternity. Might as well tattoo a scarlet T on your forehead to broadcast your shame for everyone to ******* see. Stand there and try and call me pathetic? ***** please. You are the embodiment of pathetic.” His grip tightened as he lifted her off her feet. “While this meeting has ended with no blood spilled I can guarantee you the next time we meet, it won’t be my wife you face. It will be me and I won’t be satisfied until every drop of blood you possess in that traitorous body has been spilled over and over again. Count on that.”
His free hand wrapped around her upper arm. “Now get the **** out of my face before I break your ******* neck.” Using every ounce of strength he had he threw her against the wall. It gave easily, sending her flying out into the night. The killer looked out of the Dominique sized hole and saw her lying on the ground on a heap of plaster and brick. He could have walked away then but he wasn’t quite done with her. He retreated long enough to gather the cash she’d left on the ground and returned to throw it out the hole to land on her body. “You forgot this. Buy yourself some dignity to go with those new shoes your fat *** needs so badly.” Again he started to retreat, but then a wicked grin crossed his face and he returned, this time to drop a ritual knife on her. “There. A replacement for the blade you continually whine about. I’m sure it will serve you well.” This time when he walked away he didn’t return. His work there was complete.
