Dixie Dead Shake - Log 8
Sep. 4th, 2024 09:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAmanda and MA try and find more information on the Guild's silence and get ambushed themselves.
Madame LaLaurie's was a well known Assassin's Guild front as well as one of the premiere fashion stores in the city. The Guild contacts allowed them access to European designers at a fraction of the normal cost, which they in turn raised to nose-bleeding prices for the city's wealthy women. It was also something of a quiet backdoor dropbox for female or female presenting members of the Guild, especially if one didn't want to go through more official channels. This was where Marie-Ange hoped she might find more intel to make sense of Daniel's hasty message telling her to leave the city immediately.
"No, he has always been rude on the surface. Always. But it is a front, yes?' Marie-Ange offered. "It is his personality, and a tactic. He has never been this rude. Not 'get out of my city', not 'fuck off.' He knows me, it is not a universe problem, this is a change." She tapped through her phone. "The tiktok for the shop says they are showcasing a Versace 2014 ready to wear jacket..." She paused, and cocked her head at Amanda. "Actually I may buy it even if it is terribly overpriced. It would suit you. So even if the dropbox has changed, I have an excuse to go in."
"There's definitely something going on," Amanda agreed. "So if I have to go into the fancy clothes store and try things on, it's all part of the job, yeah?"
"Denim and leather jacket." Marie-Ange sing-songed. "From a fashion show that had Nine Inch Nails as the walk on music." She waggled her phone at Amanda. "All part of the job, no reason why we can't enjoy it."
The witch giggled at her girlfriend. "I was only teasing, love. Got a rep to uphold and all. Maybe we'll even find a pair of leather pants to go with it?" She continued in this vein as they wandered into the store, pausing to look at the clothes on this model and that. Despite her tone, Amanda was still uncomfortable, and it wasn't because she was in a high end clothing store - dating Marie-Ange was basically an exercise in acclimatising.
Marie-Ange had found the showcased jacket, but picked up a different one, a short black leather quilted with pearls, and held it up several times, measuring it against Amanda's silhouette. "Do I want to pay this much money for a jacket...." She said, almost singing the words to herself. She set it back on the display, and headed to the single counter, and the bored-looking salesgirl. "The black jacket, it is a 2015, yes? Spring collection?" She was wrong, on purpose. "My girlfriend, she is not the most formal person, bit of a witchy type, but I think the pearls, we could do for a nice night out, without giving up her punk aesthetic?"
She got a sullen shrug, and a bored "It's four fifty, no bargaining." and Marie-Ange blinked openly.
"That was... not an answer to the question I asked, I rather can read price tags, thank you." She glanced at Amanda, and made eyes towards the door.
The cashier went back to her phone, ignoring them both and the callsign that should have identified Marie-Ange as a Guild member. As they reached the door, the woman suddenly looked up. "Wait! Wait! You haven't paid for that!" They both shared a puzzled look as she came around the counter and hit an electronic lock on the door, trapping them in. "Security!"
Several men emerged from the back, not looking like your average shop security.
"Huh, security's gotten bigger and uglier than the last time we shopped here," Amanda murmured to her girlfriend. "There is definitely something rotten going on here." Then louder so she could be heard by the others, she continued. "I'm sure there's some kind of mistake here. We haven't taken anything. See? Nothing up my sleeves..." She was wearing a t-shirt but made a show of turning up the sleeves regardless.
Marie-Ange pointed at the counter, and the jacket still draped there. "I have not taken the jacket." She watched the guards - all male, two with shoulder holsters, and with the distinctive shape of body armor under their jackets. "Ah, I see." She glanced at Amanda, and pulled a knife, only to be met by one of the men pulling his gun out of his holster. "It is that sort of thing."
"Apparently." Amanda gave her girlfriend a wry glance before turning her attention to the men in front of them. "Right then, let's get this done, shall we?" And she clapped her hands together to summon her shielding spell.
There was a flicker of neon blue light, a few sparks and then... nothing.
Amanda looked at her hands, shook them out and tried again. Again, nothing. "What the fuck?"
The man with the gun grinned at the witch and pointed his gun at Marie-Ange's face. "Tough luck, Sabrina. Now, come quietly, or things will get messy for your lady here."
"Non." Marie-Ange flicked her hand at Amanda, and then went to her knees, her knife going straight into the thigh of the gun-wielding guard before she even hit the floor. This one had a gun, but another had zip ties and it was New Orleans, Daniel Boudreaux had warned them, said to leave, and either she had personally offended him, which meant she was not likely to get out of the city alive, or she had gotten the attention of one of his enemies, and that enemy could maneuver magic. They were screwed either way - but Amanda - if she could get out of whatever was blocking her - could teleport. Hopefully.
So, no magic. Fine, she wasn't helpless without it. And their opponents had revealed what they were after. Amanda set her jaw and moved away from Marie-Ange, drawing their attention despite every instinct screaming at her to stay close to her. She ducked behind a clothing rack, wishing she had her handgun but looking for anything else to use as a weapon. Behind her was a shoe display featuring chunky heels; she seized a pair of strappy stilettos and slipped the straps over her hands with the heels pointing out. When one of the security guys came around the rack to find her, she slapped the pointy heel of one shoe into his abdomen, slipping her hand out and leaving it here, before swinging the other one at his face. Despite the injury, he managed to block her strike and clumsily shoved her back on her butt while holding his gut with the other hand.
Two injured, one left. The last security goon drew his gun and took aim at Marie-Ange, not wanting to risk any further knifings.
The sigh that Marie-Ange let out was fitful, irritated. She raised both hands, expression calm and unbothered despite the huff. The guard she had stabbed was on the ground, holding his leg as he bled around his fingers - she had aimed for and struck the inside of his thigh. "No more knives, see?" The gun wielding guard took a step closer, and another. "Put your hands behind your head." His voice was rough and gravely and nearly accentless.
Marie-Ange did as ordered, moving slowly to put her hands behind her neck, glanced at Amanda, and then in the space between the guard taking one hand off his gun and reaching into his jacket, a spear appeared in her upraised hands, and she stabbed, sharp end going to knock the gun out of his hand and then to strike hard under his chin.
He went down, not unconscious but holding his face and neck, and Marie-Ange stood carefully, flipping the spear to press against his neck. "Amanda? Do you need..." Her voice cut off with a dry gasp as the world went indigo and amber, and the racks of clothes and handbags swirled into dizzying nonsense.
"Angie!" Amanda saw her girlfriend go down, the shop girl - who they'd both subtracted from the situation as a harmless patsy - dropping raised hands with a smirk. Magic, then, which meant the local community was no longer an ally. But any further analysis was interrupted by the man she'd stabbed with the shoe drawing his own gun and holding it on her.
"Enough. You're coming with us. Now."
She was the target. Whatever it was they wanted, they needed her for it. And if they wanted her, they wouldn't hurt Angie until they had her. Logic clashed with emotion as she took one last glance at the crumpled form, red hair swirled about her face.
"Oh, bollocks," Amanda growled, and then let herself sink into the wooden floor.
Madame LaLaurie's was a well known Assassin's Guild front as well as one of the premiere fashion stores in the city. The Guild contacts allowed them access to European designers at a fraction of the normal cost, which they in turn raised to nose-bleeding prices for the city's wealthy women. It was also something of a quiet backdoor dropbox for female or female presenting members of the Guild, especially if one didn't want to go through more official channels. This was where Marie-Ange hoped she might find more intel to make sense of Daniel's hasty message telling her to leave the city immediately.
"No, he has always been rude on the surface. Always. But it is a front, yes?' Marie-Ange offered. "It is his personality, and a tactic. He has never been this rude. Not 'get out of my city', not 'fuck off.' He knows me, it is not a universe problem, this is a change." She tapped through her phone. "The tiktok for the shop says they are showcasing a Versace 2014 ready to wear jacket..." She paused, and cocked her head at Amanda. "Actually I may buy it even if it is terribly overpriced. It would suit you. So even if the dropbox has changed, I have an excuse to go in."
"There's definitely something going on," Amanda agreed. "So if I have to go into the fancy clothes store and try things on, it's all part of the job, yeah?"
"Denim and leather jacket." Marie-Ange sing-songed. "From a fashion show that had Nine Inch Nails as the walk on music." She waggled her phone at Amanda. "All part of the job, no reason why we can't enjoy it."
The witch giggled at her girlfriend. "I was only teasing, love. Got a rep to uphold and all. Maybe we'll even find a pair of leather pants to go with it?" She continued in this vein as they wandered into the store, pausing to look at the clothes on this model and that. Despite her tone, Amanda was still uncomfortable, and it wasn't because she was in a high end clothing store - dating Marie-Ange was basically an exercise in acclimatising.
Marie-Ange had found the showcased jacket, but picked up a different one, a short black leather quilted with pearls, and held it up several times, measuring it against Amanda's silhouette. "Do I want to pay this much money for a jacket...." She said, almost singing the words to herself. She set it back on the display, and headed to the single counter, and the bored-looking salesgirl. "The black jacket, it is a 2015, yes? Spring collection?" She was wrong, on purpose. "My girlfriend, she is not the most formal person, bit of a witchy type, but I think the pearls, we could do for a nice night out, without giving up her punk aesthetic?"
She got a sullen shrug, and a bored "It's four fifty, no bargaining." and Marie-Ange blinked openly.
"That was... not an answer to the question I asked, I rather can read price tags, thank you." She glanced at Amanda, and made eyes towards the door.
The cashier went back to her phone, ignoring them both and the callsign that should have identified Marie-Ange as a Guild member. As they reached the door, the woman suddenly looked up. "Wait! Wait! You haven't paid for that!" They both shared a puzzled look as she came around the counter and hit an electronic lock on the door, trapping them in. "Security!"
Several men emerged from the back, not looking like your average shop security.
"Huh, security's gotten bigger and uglier than the last time we shopped here," Amanda murmured to her girlfriend. "There is definitely something rotten going on here." Then louder so she could be heard by the others, she continued. "I'm sure there's some kind of mistake here. We haven't taken anything. See? Nothing up my sleeves..." She was wearing a t-shirt but made a show of turning up the sleeves regardless.
Marie-Ange pointed at the counter, and the jacket still draped there. "I have not taken the jacket." She watched the guards - all male, two with shoulder holsters, and with the distinctive shape of body armor under their jackets. "Ah, I see." She glanced at Amanda, and pulled a knife, only to be met by one of the men pulling his gun out of his holster. "It is that sort of thing."
"Apparently." Amanda gave her girlfriend a wry glance before turning her attention to the men in front of them. "Right then, let's get this done, shall we?" And she clapped her hands together to summon her shielding spell.
There was a flicker of neon blue light, a few sparks and then... nothing.
Amanda looked at her hands, shook them out and tried again. Again, nothing. "What the fuck?"
The man with the gun grinned at the witch and pointed his gun at Marie-Ange's face. "Tough luck, Sabrina. Now, come quietly, or things will get messy for your lady here."
"Non." Marie-Ange flicked her hand at Amanda, and then went to her knees, her knife going straight into the thigh of the gun-wielding guard before she even hit the floor. This one had a gun, but another had zip ties and it was New Orleans, Daniel Boudreaux had warned them, said to leave, and either she had personally offended him, which meant she was not likely to get out of the city alive, or she had gotten the attention of one of his enemies, and that enemy could maneuver magic. They were screwed either way - but Amanda - if she could get out of whatever was blocking her - could teleport. Hopefully.
So, no magic. Fine, she wasn't helpless without it. And their opponents had revealed what they were after. Amanda set her jaw and moved away from Marie-Ange, drawing their attention despite every instinct screaming at her to stay close to her. She ducked behind a clothing rack, wishing she had her handgun but looking for anything else to use as a weapon. Behind her was a shoe display featuring chunky heels; she seized a pair of strappy stilettos and slipped the straps over her hands with the heels pointing out. When one of the security guys came around the rack to find her, she slapped the pointy heel of one shoe into his abdomen, slipping her hand out and leaving it here, before swinging the other one at his face. Despite the injury, he managed to block her strike and clumsily shoved her back on her butt while holding his gut with the other hand.
Two injured, one left. The last security goon drew his gun and took aim at Marie-Ange, not wanting to risk any further knifings.
The sigh that Marie-Ange let out was fitful, irritated. She raised both hands, expression calm and unbothered despite the huff. The guard she had stabbed was on the ground, holding his leg as he bled around his fingers - she had aimed for and struck the inside of his thigh. "No more knives, see?" The gun wielding guard took a step closer, and another. "Put your hands behind your head." His voice was rough and gravely and nearly accentless.
Marie-Ange did as ordered, moving slowly to put her hands behind her neck, glanced at Amanda, and then in the space between the guard taking one hand off his gun and reaching into his jacket, a spear appeared in her upraised hands, and she stabbed, sharp end going to knock the gun out of his hand and then to strike hard under his chin.
He went down, not unconscious but holding his face and neck, and Marie-Ange stood carefully, flipping the spear to press against his neck. "Amanda? Do you need..." Her voice cut off with a dry gasp as the world went indigo and amber, and the racks of clothes and handbags swirled into dizzying nonsense.
"Angie!" Amanda saw her girlfriend go down, the shop girl - who they'd both subtracted from the situation as a harmless patsy - dropping raised hands with a smirk. Magic, then, which meant the local community was no longer an ally. But any further analysis was interrupted by the man she'd stabbed with the shoe drawing his own gun and holding it on her.
"Enough. You're coming with us. Now."
She was the target. Whatever it was they wanted, they needed her for it. And if they wanted her, they wouldn't hurt Angie until they had her. Logic clashed with emotion as she took one last glance at the crumpled form, red hair swirled about her face.
"Oh, bollocks," Amanda growled, and then let herself sink into the wooden floor.
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Date: 2024-09-25 04:27 am (UTC)