Maddy Mueller
Unfortunately, there has not been very much news on the catch Jon Marc redhanded front for the last few months, and although Maddy has kept in touch (an e-mail here, a phone call there), there hasn't been much to do except commisserate (compassion is a virtue in short supply).
Ring, ring, goes Verna's number. Maybe Verna e-mailed Maddy about what she suspects Jon Marc and his buddies (because They must be all connected, musn't they? They ruined her boss and now They're trying to ruin her), maybe so far they've only had a moment to say hey we should meet.
Verna's landlord doesn't seem too interested in shelling out to pay for all of the glass windows, but seemed amenable to getting the fix done quickly if the insurance came through after the police did their look around. Verna called the police, of course, didn't she? Good girl that she is. And somebody needed to look around, make sure she didn't just spontaneously decide to break all of her own windows and vandalize her own apartment.
That is, of course, just what They decided, and her windows are not going to be replaced unless she pays for them. The landlord was willing to give her a discount; he'd only rob her half-blind.
Maybe she's staying at her parents house again.
This is the space Verna's in when she receives a call, ring, ring, from the last number (unlisted) Maddy contacted her from. Maybe Maddy's returning the call, or maybe she's about to be surprised by poor Verna's terrible plight.
Ring, ring. Or some tasteful musical chime.
Verna
Verna has returned to living with her parents. It's a defeat. She's lost that freedom, but gained a (perhaps misguided) sense of safety. There are other people in the house with her now. And besides, it's either that or continue to live in a place that's been targeted twice before, and has plastic for windows.
What's worse is that everyone seems to want to treat her like a miscreant -- some madwoman who decided to destroy her own things. Shock and anger rule her emotions as a general rule lately. Fear comes in third, rather struggling to keep up, when sheer rage at how she's been treated comes into play.
Her students have paid the price, as negative emotions trickle down, do they not? She's been zeroing late assignments, giving no mercy on tests, and no sob story could even compare to her own, so she does not want to hear it. It's just being tough but fair, right? And perhaps it feels a little good besides.
Luckily for her, she's too busy with the start of the semester to ruminate on it all too much. That is, until her phone rings. Maddy's number. She doesn't let it ring or go to voicemail.
"Hello? Maddy?" she says, sounding tired.
Maddy Mueller
"Hi, Verna! I'm so sorry I've been incommunicado," she says, and while she doesn't sound cheerful, there's a certain lustrous polish to so sorry which gives it a peal of sincerity. "How are you doing?"
Verna
Verna had let Maddy know the basics in an email. The apartment had been broken into, and the glass items shattered. She suspects Jon Marc is trying to terrorize her. She hasn't said what the police think, because it's just too embarrassing. And of course the note she sent was professional and free of overwrought emotion. But on the phone, one can tell. It's harder to mask.
"Terrible. It's not easy having to move right at the start of the semester like this. I'm sure you can understand," she says. "Has Jon Marc ever done anything like that before? Do you think it's him?"
Maddy Mueller
This soft-soft intake of breath, and then an exhale. "Would you like to come out?" Her sympathy is creamy, the smell of vanilla; not quite cloying, perhaps a touch plastic, but only because it is neat and precise and clean. "Jon Marc," how her voice hardens, perceptible but only just over the phone; "I think... it could be him. He's done- well. Would you like to come out? I know a good Mexican restaurant."
Verna
She looks around her room, at the 'just-finished-high-school' decorating scheme, and sighs. "I'd love to. Where is this Mexican place?"
Maddy Mueller
An address is given.
A scene change is enacted.
A hole-in-the-wall located on the outside of downtown's heart, a Mexican restaurant with a faded green plaster sombrero outside and the patio closed down because only madmen and madwomen would be outside eating in weather like this, but the windows opaque with that coka a cola colored glass containing a warm amber glow and the smell of frying onions and oil. Inside, the restaurant is vaguely Spanish with faded murals on the walls and some black wrought iron decorations, Hacienda-chic.
The strawberry blonde is waiting by the door when Verna arrives, her winter coat folded as neatly as one can fold a winter coat over her arm, her heels together primly. She is looking over a menu she obtained, and when the door opens and she turns and sees Verna, she brightens a touch.
"Hi there."
There are more how-are-yous and then are-you-readys and they can seat themselves. Maddy orders a shirley temple to drink and when they bring out a plate of tortillas the tortillas are steaming hot, and even in the warm restaurant the steam is visible curling upwards. Maddy waits for Verna to get settled.
Of course Maddy waits. Is waiting.
Spiders are good at waiting; see how delicate her fingers are as she takes one of the tortillas, rolls it?
Verna
[Perception+Awareness!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Maddy Mueller
The hairs on the nape of Verna's neck rise; the place, for all of its delicious smells, its ambiance, is somewhat haunted; not chilling, but disjointed. Unsettled, something in the air.
Verna
For today's outing, Verna dressed for warmth. Even for a native, sometimes the chill in the air just won't be ignored. She walks into the place wearing black slacks and a pink, polka-dotted blouse with ruffles along the collar. Her coat is a skirted, heavy wool thing that she can't wait to get herself out of once inside.
And inside? She smiles at Maddy for a moment, before looking around at the place with a touch of nervous unease. She just can't put her finger on why this place feels so... creepy. "Hello, it's so good to see you again," she says, apparently distracted by a sombrero hanging on the wall.
But Maddy just seems to put everything into perspective, doesn't she? They're as proper as can be. And vague feelings of creepiness have no room to stay in Verna's worldview.
She orders a water. Someone can't afford fancy expensive drinks right now. There's an apartment complex to pay back, after all.
After the pleasantries have been exchanged, she wants to get right to business. "Did you ask me here just to get me out of the house?"
Maddy Mueller
"I wouldn't say just," Maddy says, sobering. "But I'm just not comfortable discussing Jon Marc," ah, hatred, "over the phone, and you sounded as if you've been having a time."
"Do I think that Jon Marc is capable of orchestrating what happened to your apartment? I have no doubt at all that somehow he is responsible. Have you seen him recently?"
Verna
The way she says that last bit makes it sound like Jon Marc has grown devil's horns and a tail or something. Have you seen how awful he looks?
"No, I haven't. Things have been so quiet for so long, I rather thought I'd been forgotten. It seems not. I couldn't have such luck."
She takes one of the tortillas and pours honey down one side and rolls it up as she's talking. Something sweet to make the topic of conversation go down a bit easier?
Verna
[Perception/Alertness!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 3, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Maddy Mueller
Have you seen his horns?
They say that the devil exists. That the best trick he's ever pulled is to convince people he doesn't (people like Verna). But Verna, for a moment, must swear she sees - not Jon Marc - but his soulful eyed Mr. Clean-esque friend going into the kitchens. He didn't see her (if it WAS the same guy), but it's an eerie coincidence.
"I ... think," Maddy says, very slowly, "that I have an idea, a concrete idea, about what we might do to force the police to recognize that he IS a threat."
[NPC roll roll roll that magic conceal things dice-pool.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 5, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
Verna
[Perception/Empathy! WP Because!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 5, 6, 7) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Verna
Verna double-takes at the man working the kitchens -- isn't he? It's not for certain, exactly, but she puts down her tortilla. Maybe she can play it off as not being hungry?
She keeps an eye on the kitchen just in case. Maybe she can get a better look, see if that really is who she thinks he is? For now, she tries to pay attention to Maddy.
"Yes. The police have been... lacking. Sorely lacking. They seem to think that I had something to do with my own apartment's destruction. That it makes no sense does not seem to matter. They just don't want to do their jobs," she says, angrily. "What did you have in mind?"
cruor
Maddy tsks a tongue against her neat teeth the demure American's answer to disappointment at the idea conjured up of these bumbling policemen. Her eyebrows arc, quite superior, certainly superior to these messy no-nothings who'd probably see a skinned cat and say it skinned itself.
Solidarity, hm? Verna is distracted by something, and if Maddy notices - well! Maddy has her own agenda, her own focus of interest. Somebody by the door is not that focus. Her eyes stay on Verna.
"A public confrontation; recorded, of course," voice lifted, to override any potential protest, eyebrows arching further with knowing. "I know for a fact that for Jon Marc being recorded at all is anathema. I know for a fact that we'd be giving him enough rope to hang himself. Of course, this only works," here, her brow creases with concern, "if somebody sets him off."
Maddy bites the inside of her lip. "I have tried."
Verna Gardner
[Perception/Empathy = How you feeling, Maddy?]
Verna Gardner
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (5, 6, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 4 )
cruor
Of this much, Verna is certain - Maddy's rage and knowing both seem to come from a place of belief, the contempt and disgust and (fury/hatred) for Jon Marc is once again showing, though Maddy is doing a job at trying to conceal it. Still, it's like a slip just a touch too long for the skirt, bit of lace and froth that should be shortened... she cares so much about 'getting' Jon Marc that- well. She cares more about that than anything, probably. Certainly more about it than the tortillas!
Verna can certainly guess that Maddy isn't paying attention to the kitchens or anything else.
Verna Gardner
Verna picks at her tortilla with a fork, but she's not really looking at the food. She looks at Maddy like a kindred spirit. Give him enough rope to hang himself? Words to live by...
But then, her eyes flit back to the kitchen. Who was that?
"I may just have him on the brain right now," Verna says, spiking the 'him' with a touch of violence. "But I thought I saw the man who was watching my apartment just now. In the kitchen. That was the day I was supposed to help Marie? Maybe we should avoid specifics until I can be certain."
cruor
[Subterfuge]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 4, 5, 8, 8) ( success x 2 )
Verna Gardner
[Perception/Subterfuge!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
cruor
Maddy casts a glance over her shoulder, and what fish is she casting for? The big one: successfully feigned surprise. But she isn't surprised, not really, even if she's trying for politeness' sake to cover it up, and after that quick glance she offers a disingenuous, "Do you think so, really?"
"What did he look like?" That question seems genuine, so whatever it is that failed to surprise her about Verna's remark, she doesn't know the man. "Did you tell me? I'm afraid I don't remember. Perhaps I can nip around and give it a look."
The music changes - soulful guitar, Mariachi-style: La Malagueña. There is a couple, an old man and his daughter (but really: she's in college now, thick black glasses and an interest in women's studies; he used to be police) are conversing in a nearby booth, and as a waiter passes by the draft from the waiter's coat sends causes the old man to glance up, the daughter to dunk her straw in ice, light plays on it: a rill of some bright thing in the mostly-dark restaurant.
Verna Gardner
[Manipulation/Subterfuge = I so did not just notice you lying to me.]
"Bald, older... a bit like Mr. Clean?" Verna offers. She picks up on the deception, but tries to disguise that by talking about the man's features and trying to look for him.
Why is that not a surprise for Maddy? Is that creep following her too?
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
cruor
"Mm. I'll be right back," Maddy says, standing. There's a warm, metaphorically speaking, touch of her fingertips to Verna's shoulder, and then the young woman is strolling -- there is no other word for it; if there were video clips, Wizarding-world style, in paper dictionaries, a picture of Maddy strolling along like the girl next door you always knew existed carefree and casual might well be there -- down the hall near the kitchens.
Verna Gardner
Verna, in her paranoid state, looks to the other people -- people without as complicated lives as hers. A man and and a daughter, out for dinner. Quaint, really. They couldn't be... dangerous.
Then, she peeks toward Maddy's direction. Would that man try to hurt her? She slides out of her chair, tries to be silent, mouselike as she makes her way in pursuit.
[Stealth/Wits!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
cruor
[Alert Maddy?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
cruor
[She is not alert. OR IS SHE? It will remain a mystery, but we shan't roll to break the tie this time. *grin*]
cruor
Verna is good at being nondescript, passing unnoticed, moving as if she's Nobody Special, Look Away, Nothing to See Here, even as she shadows her companion. Past a machine devoted to the making of those delicious tortillas, past some Mediterranean iron-railing, some heavy wooden candlesticks which look like they were taken from a ranch, and there is the window to the kitchens. Maddy peeks in, slowing; she even stops for a moment, and then she turns a corner. Verna, following, passes the kitchen now, just as the door opens and Mister Clean (a rose by any other name) comes out again -- he's holding a box and perhaps he hasn't seen her yet, but she does seem to be in his direct path.
Verna Gardner
Okay. Act natural. She takes a calming breath and turns away from Mr. Clean, making for the hallway where the restrooms are. Just got a little lost looking for them, that's all. Perfectly normal.
Still, she pays attention to the sounds around her, listens for footfalls, or a voice, or...
When she's out of the way, she'll turn and look again. It was definitely him -- Jon Marc's man. She's certain of it. But what is he doing here? How did he know?
Verna Gardner
[Perceptions + Alertness! Diff 7!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (3, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 5 )
cruor
The hallway is empty, although the door to the men's room is ajar. The sounds of somebody washing their hands (thank god, huh?) comes from inside, and a low conversation, one-sided, one-voice, probably somebody on the phone. Verna is getting very good at paying attention to her surroundings: and why shouldn't she? If she lets her guard down, who knows what They might do.
There's an office or a store room or something at the end of the hall (down a couple stairs) with the restrooms, and Verna catches a glimpse of the man coming out of it's shadow and knows, knows, knows immediately, knows a second before he actually leaves the room that
hey, hey Jon Marc, how are you doing? He's looking relaxed is how he's doing; relaxed and handsome, as always, with that dark black hair and that certain air he's got, soulfulness, something to sucker women like Marie in.
Verna Gardner
Ohh, this was a trap. Perhaps this is what Maddy knew and didn't say? That he was here? That this was a place where one could find him and his cronies? She said she wanted to set him off, and get it on tape, didn't she?
Yes, because that sounds like a great plan. Set the man off and get beaten to death in a Mexican restaurant. How utterly ignoble. She turns around, heads back to her purse at the table, where she at least has a couple of defenses -- her cell phone and her mace.
Verna Gardner
[Init! +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[JM. Init! +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( botch x 1 )
cruor
Jon Marc sees Verna, of course.
More precisely, he sees her back, and she's already out of the hallway by the time what he sees catches up with his brain and then
and then Verna is already out of the hallway. If she looks toward the table she and Maddy abandoned, she'll see Maddy sitting, looking warily around, shoulders stiff and uncomfortable, while Mister Clean (box still in hand) talks to her. Mister Clean seems like he's going rather than coming, but c'est la vie.
Verna Gardner
Verna strides up with quick steps, looking the very picture of a pissed-off, prim little mouse. Perhaps not very threatening, but still. She goes straight for her purse and slides it on her shoulder, looks to Maddy (and is she mad at the other woman or just mad in general?) and says: "Our favorite person ever is here."
Then, there's a glare to spare to that horrible little man with the box.
cruor
"Is he?"
Is Maddy's surprise genuine? She certainly doesn't seem to have a phone or camera ready. Does it matter? Her eyes dart back to the bald blue-eyed man's face and he gives Verna a quizzical look, as if - hasn't he? - and then he looks over Verna's shoulder, and
yes, there's Jon Marc, having caught up. "Not running away, are we, Verna? How's Marie doing?" He doesn't give Maddy so much as a glance. He doesn't give his friend a glance, either.
Verna Gardner
It matters. Verna fishes in her purse, trying to find her phone and turn the camera on. If anything, she can record audio while it's in there and maybe...
She turns to confront Jon Marc, face flushed. Yes, she saw you. Yes you are complete degenerate scum. No, she's not going to give you the pleasure of seeing her turn tail and flee.
"Oh, you talk about her as if you care," she says, spitting out the words. "I'm sure you do, in your own twisted way. Like someone might care for their rug or their television."
cruor
"I do care. I love Marie. I love the kids."
His eyes couldn't be more soulful if he were the Devil himself, collecting all these years. He reaches out to grab her arm, stop her from fishing around in that purse of hers.
[But we're going to go by the initial init for a while, and if Verna wants to avoid, just roll me Dex + Ath.]
Verna Gardner
[Dex 2 + Ath 1 = Verna is not a physically imposing creature...]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 9) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[Perhaps Jon Marc will botch, which would be hilarious. Dex + Brawl.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 5, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Verna Gardner
He says he loves the kids. She rolls her eyes at him -- what an act. What a despicable little... He grabs her arm. Well, not getting out of this one, are we?
"You love them? Is that why you want Rocky so bad? Love? Tell me, is that how they taught you to love little boys in the Marines? Do you love watching them get beaten and mauled? Is that it?"
He might have her by the arm, but she's defiant to the last is she not?
"Oh, yes. I know all about that."
cruor
[Short Fuse, Short Fuse...]
Dice: 2 d10 TN7 (3, 10) ( success x 1 )
cruor
His fingers tighten on her arm. He wants them to hurt her. Does he want them to hurt her? His eyes don't look mean but they do look blank. Unthinking: squeeze. Of course he fucking wants them to hurt her.
His jaw pops, crackles. He says, to Maddy, "You're gonna have to excuse your friend, lady," with a charming grin. Grimace. "But Verna and I are going to have a conversation outside."
"Er, Jon Marc..." This from the blue-eyed bald guy, who looks uneasy. His tone sounds placating, and he'd shot Verna such a look. Surprised, uncertain. Placing her now, and now - he's worried. He hefts the box; it rattles. "We've got other stuff to..."
But Jon Marc isn't listening. He pulls, not necessarily very hard, he doesn't want it to look like assault, on Verna's arm. Make her follow him: that's the idea.
Verna Gardner
[Strength + Ath = Struggle to get out of the grip!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )
cruor
[Str + Brawl. Nuh uh, lady.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )
Verna Gardner
She makes a scene in her attempt to get away from him. He might not want to make it look like assault, but it is assault. And Verna's going to do everything she can to make sure everyone in sight knows it.
"Let go of me, you animal!"
She looks to the others in the restaurant with pleading eyes. Just a slight little mouse of a woman being dragged outside against her will, right? Won't you do something?
"You!" she looks at the father across the way with his daughter. "Call the police!"
Verna Gardner
[Charisma + Empathy! Specialty: Appealing]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 4 ) [Doubling Tens]
cruor
[Father, Conscience.]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
cruor
The old retired cop having dinner with his daughter gives the scene a slow look. He is reserved. There's dignity in staying the fuck out of it, and let's be honest: he doesn't usually care that much. This time, though, something about Verna's voice, the way it wavers, something about the way she appeals to him.
He reaches for his phone.
Jon Marc shakes Verna. He shakes her hard, of course, enough to rattle her teeth, make her lip, as if he doesn't know his own strength. Of course he knows his own strength. He catches her eye. That's what he wants to do; catch her eye. Drag her back into paying attention specifically to him so he can say:
"Silence yourself, Verna. Dear." Is he fooling the old man? Probably not. "We'll get you your medicine."
[Dominate 1. Command. Manip + Intimidation. Diff: Verna's current WP. 'Silence!' is the command, in true villain-style.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN4 (2, 3, 5, 5, 7, 7) ( success x 4 )
Verna Gardner
[Perception + Awareness!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 5) ( botch x 1 )
Verna Gardner
She doesn't know why she goes dumb at that point. It doesn't make sense to, but yet -- when she opens her mouth, there's nothing to say. It's like in dreams when you get angry and try to rant so hard your mouth sews shut.
We'll get your medicine? Like she's crazy? Maybe that's what does it. The righteous indignation is just too much to be borne.
Still, she doesn't stop struggling. He didn't tell her to go limp.
Verna Gardner
[Str + Ath = lemme go!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 8) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[I don't think so.]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 6) ( success x 1 )
cruor
Verna is so thoroughly silenced and oh perhaps it is a dream of course it's a dream a nightmare how mute she is; perhaps it's only her fury talking, as she tries to shake herself free, pull herself free, and may she never know just how close she comes: Jon Marc takes a deep, deep breath, and says to his friend, "She gets like this. Fits. I don't know what to do. She's Marie's responsibility, not mine..."
Doesn't he sound woeful? Doesn't he sound convincing? A convincing liar, that's what Jon Marc is trying to be. That's what he can be, sometimes.
Right now? We'll see.
But he hauls Verna away in spite of her struggles, and what of Maddy, Verna's friend? Is she recording this, at least? Maddy is standing, and as they get closer to the kitchens she calls, "Jon Marc, you know she's not Marie's responsibility. Leave her alone. The police will be here soon."
But Jon Marc acts like he can't even see Maddy, ignores her completely and utterly, says to Verna, low so no one else can hear - "You think you know something, huh? I can't wait until you tell me exactly what you think you know. You're such a stupid fuck. Do you know how fucked you are right now?"
There's the kitchen door. Through the kitchen and out back: that's Jon Marc's goal.
Verna Gardner
Verna stops trying to wrest her arm out of his grasp. After all, she's got another. She might have to twist it around to reach her purse, but that's where her can of Mace is. That's about the only thing that's going to keep her from getting dragged out into the alley at this point. Jon Marc is just too strong.
And she still can't voice her displeasure at this. In retaliation, she lets her lower half go limp. If he wants her to move, he's going to have to literally drag her.
cruor
Verna goes limp. He could make more of a scene: pick her up, haul her, drag her. He could do that: he's strong enough, isn't he?
But he doesn't. Verna makes herself limp and (there's a commotion at the table she left; does she look back to see what's happening? It sounds like an argument) he stops, looking down at her.
Fine. "I'm going to let you go," he says, pleasantly. "And you're going to behave." He gives her another attention-grabbing shake, and his eyes are blanker than Verna's ever seen them. "Follow me."
[Dominate 1. Command, again. Doo de doo.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN4 (2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Verna Gardner
[Perception/Awareness!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
cruor
Perhaps later on in life, presuming there is a later on in life, Verna will look back at this moment, at the sensation of Something going on, some instinct that something is being changed or isn't quite right, and she'll recognize what it is she's feeling or sensing...
...but right now, it's just a Something, hairs on the back of her neck rising. Something being made to Happen.
Verna Gardner
When he told her to be silent, she lost her voice without thinking about it twice. It was easy to dismiss the effect as nothing but emotional overload. But now? Now she feels it -- a sense of Wrongness that overtakes her.
But it's not wrong to stand to her feet, to start walking again. Not wrong at all. It's the dignified thing to do, isn't it? Silent, no longer struggling or needing to be dragged, she digs deeper into her purse, pulling out the can of Mace without a word -- but with flashes of utter hatred in her eyes.
Verna Gardner
[Manip + Stealth = hide the fact that you're about to Mace somebody, Verna... Spending WP because!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 4, 6) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
cruor
[But does Jon Marc notice?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 4, 8) ( success x 1 )
cruor
Out.
Out through the kitchens. There are people in the kitchens, but none of them seem to think there's anything odd about Jon Marc dragging and then releasing a reluctant furious Verna with hatred sparking in her eyes reaching for a bottle of mace.
Out into the alley, behind the Mexican restaurant. The kitchen is loud; if anybody is following them, trying to get this on film, Verna doesn't hear them.
Once they're out in the alley, Jon Marc turns to Verna in order to deliver a command a reprimand something.
Verna Gardner
[Init +5!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( botch x 1 )
cruor
[JM: +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
cruor
[Mystery NPC +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[M +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( botch x 1 )
Verna Gardner
When Jon Marc turns, he comes face to face with a still-furious Verna holding a can of Mace in hand, ready to shoot into his eyes, if only. She wants to follow him, wants to stay quiet about it for some reason, and thus has not drawn his attention. Too bad for him.
Too bad for her that he's combat-trained, and she's a frail scientist.
She fumbles with the trigger, even, giving him an edge.
cruor
Maddy has, as it happens, followed; has followed through the kitchens, is standing by the open door, letting cool air into the inside. The sound of cooks talking to each other in Spanish wafts over the scene playing itself out in the alley, a bizarre counterpoint. Maddy is holding the recording device up, and she's not saying or doing anything else yet: gotta catch it on video, right?
"Drop it," Jon Marc says. Commands. He's faster. Commands don't always stick, but sometimes they do. He sounds furious. He always sounds furious after more than a minute in Verna's presence.
Dice: 6 d10 TN3 (4, 4, 6, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )
Verna Gardner
[Awareness!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 6) ( success x 1 )
Verna Gardner
[Init + 5!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
cruor
[JM +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[Mystery NPC +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[M +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )
Verna Gardner
Verna, struck by the sensation of creepy cold at the back of her neck again, drops the Mace. Her purse, too, goes tumbling to the ground to join it, in her frantic need to be rid of whatever's in her hands. She doesn't know why, and right now, doesn't much care to think on it.
Because, you see, she jumps at that sense of something being done to her, at his voice, and responds with her own surprised yelp. She can speak again.
"You.... You!" She says, half-terrified, half-murderous. And perhaps that's all she can get out. She's got nothing left except for that 'ally' behind her, recording the events -- Recording what's about to be done to her.
cruor
"Hey Jon Marc, Jonathan says hello," Maddy says, raising her voice, sing-song, sing-song, voice at its most malicious; is trembling, taut, highly excited, like a string about to break, snap. She's trying to scare Jon Marc, maybe. Trying to get to him. Maybe. An 'ally,' well - for a given value of.
"This is why stupid bitches shouldn't mouth off about what they don't know shit about," Jon Marc says, and when he talks like that his charm wears pretty thin. What charm? He's charmless. "Now tell me what the fuck you think you know about maulings and - and all that shit." Is that a tremor?
Of his temper, trying to control it.
He isn't reaching out to hit Verna. He doesn't need to, does he? Because he's got that air of command, says jump and you say how high; he must just be used to ordering people around: it must be what he does.
There's no reason for Verna to feel ashamed.
Yet, Something. There's Something, whenever she does something she didn't think to do or wouldn't do otherwise; she knows it's strange. The strangeness crawls up the insides of her wrists: a faint sense.
Verna Gardner
[Init + 5!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[+6 Jon Marc]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
cruor
[+5 M]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
cruor
[+5 Mystery NPC]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[Next time: Verna Strikes Back!]
Verna Gardner
[lol -- Fists of Doom: Verna Style. *catfight-y gestures with eyes closed*]
cruor
[Hee. Knowing the dice, that just might work!]
cruor
This is Verna's Terrible No Good Very Bad Night.
The crawling niggling intuition that something uncanny is going on keeps sluicing down her spine; Jon Marc, with his soulful black eyes, his raven-dark locks, his foul mouth and his hate-flint eyes, keeps telling her to do things -- and she does them (like a good little scared mouse); Maddy isn't exactly a safe refuge, considering; and if the old man is calling the police or called the police from inside the restaurant, they haven't arrived yet. On top of everything, her purse is on the ground. Dirty.
There's a commotion, coming from the kitchens. Different kind of noise. Maddy's saying - "C'mon, c'mon, do something, do something" - and she sounds tense; anguished. Then she glances glancing over her shoulder, as if she hears something which startles her. It means she's lowering the camera.
Jon Marc is cocking his head to the side, popping bone, and about to kick Verna's pepper spray out of range -- with violence; he means to menace, but he's not actively trying to be intimidating -- the arrogant bastard believes he's intimidating enough without expelling the effort. He's just listening, right now, because he really wants to know
just what Verna thinks she knows about 'maulings'
and all that shit.
He doesn't expect her to run. He doesn't expect her to attack him. She's a pathetic little science nerd; she's gotta know her place by now, right? So he's not preparing for anything except to kick the inanimate object.
They went out through the kitchens, so they're standing in an alley. The street isn't far away, but it's not close, either: there's a truck between the street and Verna.
Verna Gardner
Verna's out of options, at this point. A glance to Maddy's direction shows that, yes, she is plenty angry with the other woman too. It makes sense now. Verna's 'job' here is to make Jon Marc angry enough to commit a felony on videotape so that the police will pay attention. The only trouble with that is that it's Verna's skin on the line, and thank you so very much, Maddy, for putting it there.
'Allies' indeed.
As proven time and time again, though, Verna is not one to go gently into that good night. She aims to make it as hard as possible for either of them to get what they want. And so, makes a run for it. If she makes it to the truck, she'll try to find a way around, or over as the case may be.
Verna Gardner
[dex + ath!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Verna Gardner
[Perc + Alert!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 7, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
cruor
The dark-haired ghoul (let's call a bird a bird, a flower a flower) doesn't expect Verna to run. He still kicks the fucking pepperspray away, leisurely, giving Maddy a long, slow look and a slower smile, like he's just figured something out --
And then, of course, he gives chase.
[This is basically a split action. Not gonna roll the kicking-pepperspray since she's not going for it, but will roll the chase. Go Verna go!
Dex + Ath -1 die for the split]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 6) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[That shoulda been diff 7: he fails at keeping up, uh, pretty completely.]
cruor
Mouse? Mice are fucking fast and Verna (maybe it's her heart racing, adrenaline, adrenaline, adrenaline) running makes it to the truck while Jon Marc is still thinking he's just going to lap her like maybe he's blind and doesn't realize how quickly she's moving: so she makes it to the truck and he's still smirking at Maddy; turning to look at her. Verna is moving fast, can take her pick of how to get around the truck: over, around, land hard on her heels or feel like her feet aren't even touching the ground -- this is grade school rules, outrunning a bully, moving so it almost feels like flying.
Anyway, Verna gets around the truck.
And Verna can hear the still-distant wail of police sirens, can hear somebody snickering in an alcove near the street exit, an alcove which leads into an antique record shop, can see this lean twist of a man there in the corner, man with an oldfashioned felt hat and an ugly face, snickering at whatever's happening behind her- or maybe at her, running; who knows? The point is she sees the man and she sees the alcove and the alcove's door as well as the street as well as hears those police sirens waiing
like maybe help is on its way
though, given how her previous dealings with the police go, she's gotta wonder:
help for who? Herself or Jon Marc?
cruor
[JM +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )
Verna Gardner
[Init + 5!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
cruor
[Maddy +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )
cruor
[Alcove Man +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )
Verna Gardner
She's running at top speed when she catches the snickering of that man in the alcove, and determined eyes follow him as she passes. Yet another unhelpful person just doesn't quite top the list of things she's concerned about right now. The police are coming. Jon Marc is following her, surely. With intent to what?
She doesn't stop to wonder. She just keeps running.
cruor
Jon Marc can see what it is Maddy means to do. The strawberry blonde puts a hand to her head; presses her palm to her forehead; a strange expression crosses her face and then - there's a struggle there. Jon Marc isn't concerned by it, is he?
The unhelpful man snickering in the alcove kisses his teeth as Verna runs by, says, "Oooh, baby, don't you know you can't get away from them that likes the oracle juice?"
Jon Marc should be ashamed of himself. He is. She's so far ahead of him that he's startled to realize she might reach the street. It might be smarter to let her go, but Jon Marc acts without a lot of smarts sometimes, lowers his head like he's a bull and there's a china shop he just needs to get to, and its name is naturally Verna. Or 'Truck.' He's gotta get around the truck.
[Here's his Dex + Ath!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 9) ( success x 1 )
cruor
[He continues to be ashamed. "You jinxed me, old man!" Here's... Maddy's roll, for something.]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (5, 6, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
cruor
[Contest for that.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 1, 4, 5, 5, 10) ( success x 1 )
Verna Gardner
[Dex + Ath!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 7) ( success x 1 )
Verna Gardner
[Awareness!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 4, 4) ( botch x 1 )
cruor
JM: +6
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )
cruor
Maddy: +5
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )
Verna Gardner
[Init + 5!]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )
cruor
Alcove Man: +5
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )
cruor
Maddy, back by the kitchen door, sits down; hard. Muffled body thump, the shiver-skitter of tech hitting the ground and a piece breaking off, batteries rolling. Verna's focused on the street. It's so close she can taste it.
The sound of sirens, nearer now. Nearer than ever. It's not just a tease, sirens coming closer then diminishing, they are coming at least directly toward the Mexican restaurant.
Alcove man fades back into the shadows, might as well never have been there. He stays so still, it's as if he isn't, wasn't, never was.
Verna feels a sense of ... what is it? It's a whole milk sort of feeling, warm cookies baking, love and rightitude, dejavu but only in that in this moment she's completely aware of herself and where she is and who she is and everything's fine and normal and everything WILL be fine and normal and --
Verna Gardner
Verna keeps going for the street. The man in the alcove, talking about 'oracle juice' can just go away. He slips past her notice -- just another lunatic squatting in an alleyway. See them all the time.
Maybe it's the fact that she seems to be getting away that fills her with that sense of rightness -- like everything's going to be all right. She's going to make it. Jon Marc hasn't grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a wall yet, so it must be fine. And even if he did, the police would surely see him do it. She won't be getting beaten to death. That's all that matters.
cruor
He hasn't even rounded the truck yet. Verna's about to step onto a well-lit street and he hasn't even rounded the truck yet. Jon Marc puts some juice into it, so to speak. Not oracle juice, but ... some juice.
He will fucking catch up. He can't think of anything else except catching up. Verna can hear the heavy thud of his boots behind her.
[Or will he botch? Dex + Ath]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 5, 9) ( success x 1 )
Verna Gardner
[Dex + Ath! = Maybe Verna will. Hah.]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (8, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Verna Gardner
[Nope.]
cruor
[I think I'll give Miss Verna a WP back - she's escaping pretty perfectly *grin*]
Verna Gardner
[Yay!]
cruor
What Alcove Man? There is no Man in the Alcove. Just shadows.
Maddy? What Maddy? Where and who? The so-very-nice so-very-neat perfect-as-a-pearl (too-good-to-be-true) young woman is down for the count.
Verna reaches the street. It's not the busiest street, but it's not entirely empty, either. She might be able to dart across without getting hit; she might not. Chances. Luck. Fortune. Her car is where she parked it, but her purse and her things are back past Jon Marc.
Across the street there's a busy cafe, something with a lot of people sitting outside where heating lamps are burning away Denver's winter cold.
There's a couple just pulling into a metered parking spot which has freed up in front of the Mexican Restaurant and there's a weary-looking homeless woman, panhandling by the kerb. Another homeless man, very young, scruffy jaw, handsome eyes, and his pet dog, sitting in the door of another building. The dog is a mutt, alert and watchful, its ears pricked forward.
As for the police...
They sure still sound like they're closing in.
Verna Gardner
Verna is out of Jon Marc's grasp. Her things, though. She dropped them. Can't get back to her car without keys. The busy cafe beckons, but Verna's not about to risk getting hit by a car in her blind panicky run. She will cross the street at the nearest crosswalk that's got a walk sign going, and hope to keep outpacing her pursuer.
Besides, she ended up dragged out into the alleyway anyway. People being in the general area did not seem to be of help, except to call the police. Certainly nobody tried to stop Jon Marc.
And how did that happen? How did all of that... Dropping her purse was a terrible idea, now that it comes to it.
cruor
The nearest crosswalk is a red hand. Nope. Not here, Miss Gardner.
Jon Marc: slow, but steady. Verna is still far ahead of him. He reaches the alley's mouth when Verna is a building away and just as a white and black pulls around the corner of the I Don't Think So Red Hand.
The sirens are blaring and of course it doesn't slow down for a running young woman, but traffic eases to a halt people pull right and the police cruiser finally pulls with an extra squeal here piggy piggy into the parking lot of the Mexican restaurant.
Jon Marc? Jon Marc curses and retreats back into the alley.
The only thudding Verna hears now is the sound of her heart.
Verna Gardner
[Stamina!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 10) ( success x 1 )
cruor
A stitch in her side, fatigue settling in but it hasn't got her yet: adrenaline, baby, how shiny it is. Maybe all the walking around university is getting her into better shape.
Verna Gardner
Verna slows down as she goes for the police car. Rushing at a cop is far from a good idea, even when being chased. But finally, someone has arrived.
Whether they'll be of help or not? Well, Verna's had a lot of trouble with the police lately. They don't believe her. But they might at least help her get her own purse back. Surely Jon Marc isn't going to claim it as his.
She holds her side, waits for an officer to step out, with heavy, worn-out breaths.
cruor
The officer who steps out has a perky blonde ponytail, but a stitch between her eyebrows and she looks a couple years older than she is. Late twenties, not quite fresh meat, but all professional. Verna panting doesn't seem to draw her attention immediately and inside the car Officer Blondie's partner is on the radio, looking bored. Her partner is a man in his late thirties, pug nose, broad shoulders, scar under his eye, the kind of wrinkles around his mouth like he smiles all the time. Anyway: Verna panting doesn't draw the officer's attention immediately, and the woman doesn't have a gun drawn and isn't reaching for a gun drawn either. Whatever call was made, she seems ready to deal with the problem in a brisk crisp fashion rather than prepared for real trouble.
So Verna doesn't draw her attention immediately, but there's a time frame after immediately (which comes a step or two from the cruiser to the front door), and Officer Blondie blinks at Verna.
"Ma'am," neutral. "Are you in need of aid?"
Verna Gardner
"Yes. I am," Verna says, catching her breath. "I was here eating dinner with a friend, and this odious man I know showed up. He started threatening me, and grabbed me by the arm. He dragged me out into the alleyway until he... told me... I thought he'd hurt me if I didn't follow him."
She swallows. Yes, that's right, isn't it? She was just afraid.
"But when I got out there," she says, shakes her head. Catches her breath again. "He was going to hurt me anyway. I ran. He was behind me, but now you're here."
Yes, officer. You're here. And you will help, won't you? She's so scared, so in need. A good little girl who's in over her head.
cruor
It isn't always that the police force is corrupt, or lazy, or incompetent. There are good officers, people who really want to make a difference and help out, maybe people who had a traumatic experience when they were young and thought justice and a shield and a badge and some form of authority would be a good thing to support, but then they found out how hard certain things are, how dark the world really is, and they're just tired all the time. It isn't that the blonde officer Verna is appealing to doesn't want to help her.
It's never that, for the woman. But she doesn't know if she'll be able to, or at least she's trying not to engage too closely with Verna's emotional state. What's the point? Still, she listens and nods her head and behind them the blonde officer's partner gives a racuous laugh and the passenger side door slams shut and he leans his forearms across the top of the car so he can listen better. The picture of unconcern, really, though listening too.
"I'm Officer Leslie," the woman says, and she sounds brisk and professional and just a touch cool. "That's Officer What. You stay with him, honey. That alley there?" A nod, as if to confirm, and then she goes to check it out.
"How do you know this man?" Officer What asks, while his partner is checking out the alley. The lights are still on: bathing the lot in red and blue and red and blue. "Can you tell me his name?"
His eyes are on the alleyway's entrance, but he's got a pad of paper to take notes on. "Has he beat you before?"
cruor
[Meanwhile, Jon Marc Area Knowledge to GTFA from this place? Wits + AK.]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 7) ( success x 1 )
Verna Gardner
She nods to Officer Leslie, and tries not to react to the strange name of her partner. Officer What? Well, we can't choose our names, something Verna's very familiar with. "Officer Leslie? My friend followed us into the alley. I don't know what happened to her. Please, if you see her... She's wearing a pearl necklace? Her name's Maddy."
How do you know this man?
"He was my friend's boyfriend. I'm not acquainted with him in any other fashion but that. He beat her," she says, trying to express her ultimate distaste for all things Jon Marc.
Has he beat you before?
"No, he hasn't. But he did send his friend to spy on my apartment. Marie, my friend, she was leaving him and wanted me to help. He does not like that. He thinks I know where her children are."
Which, of course, gets to the other thing. Why is he so concerned with the children? Well, if they want to know...
Verna Gardner
[Oh yeah, name..]
"His name's Jon Marc," she says, and the way she says it, you might think she was uttering the worst curse known to man.
cruor
This is how the night ends for Verna:
a meal comped by the Mexican restaurant, once Officer Leslie has spoken to management;
more questions from Officer What, although mostly he seems neutral, like he's waiting for something really exciting to happen or he's thinking about how surprised his fiancee is going to be when they watch the next Game of Thrones episode (which he has seen but she hasn't, hoh boy). As if he's just trying to get enough to dot every i and cross every t on his report, though by the end he's managed to get a fairly comprehensive view of Verna's interactions with Jon Marc.
But some of that comes after.
After the commotion -- because once Officer Leslie checks out the alley: a woman down, call the paramedics, call the ambulance. Maddy Mueller doesn't answer any questions herself, although the old ex-cop who might've been the girl he was with's father has stuck around to answer them. Maddy Mueller is rushed to the nearest hospital, her skin waxen and slack, her eyes dark circles; she looks ghastly - as if her skin were trying to slough off her bones.
And of course there is the very unfortunate news that Jon Marc seems to have vanished from the scene, the very prince of cats. The officers ask Verna if she has a place to stay, ready to provide her with the names of some shelters for battered women (see, don't they go above and beyond?). What seems genuinely interested in helping her get situated; the most interest he's shown.
At least it appears that what Verna and Maddy had planned has happened:
Jon Marc, caught doing something bad in public. Something he'll have a hard time wriggling his way out of.
Won't he?
Verna Gardner
She can only hope that now, after everything else, that maybe, just maybe, they'll do something. Perhaps Jon Marc will slip through their fingers yet again, but she survived the night. At times, like when she dropped the Mace, surrounded by enemies (or at least, the exceedingly unhelpful) she was quite certain she wasn't going to make it out unscathed.
She makes sure to tell the officers to look for Maddy's cell phone. She was taking video, and even if it broke, there might be something saved on it. She doesn't know if she managed to turn her own phone's camera on until she gets her purse again, but alas, it is free of evidence.
The good news? Witnesses are there to speak on her behalf, and one is an ex-cop to boot. She thanks the older man profusely, wiping away tears in her eyes to make it even more of a heart-tug.
She describes it all, even her suspicions (though the things for which she has no hard evidence she makes sure to note are rumors. Cops don't appreciate the stretching of truth.) She heard that he was interested in the children for vile reasons. And she makes sure to mention his friend, Mr. Clean, the spy. He was around here somewhere too, wasn't he? Was he an employee of the restaurant?
In any case, she will accept the dinner, but eat very little. Somehow, the appetite is spoiled after a night like this.
No comments:
Post a Comment