revivalproject | Under the Gun

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Under the Gun

WHO: ~~Aeon Flux~~ Monica Distalus and you!
WHERE: The City
WHAT: Misadventures with a Merc
WHEN: Throughout the event!
WARNINGS: The Hellfire Club prompt has an outside link in case there's any NSFW content there. :) Otherwise I'll label anything as it comes up.

The Advertisement
In the latest edition of the newspaper, there's a plain ad: a triangle with a pop-art eye in the middle, its lashes long and bold. Above the logo are the words "Services Rendered". Below it: "Place Personal Ad In Best Foot Forward Magazine. Address To A.F."

The Hellfire Club - outside link for potential NSFW content
Maybe you're already a member. Maybe you found a way in otherwise. But if you're interested in the darker, steamier side of life, you might find yourself at Monica's workplace, The Hellfire Club. Or maybe you just wanted to get a hold of her and didn't know how to otherwise...? If that's the case, you're in for some interesting atmosphere.

The Mercenary
Aeon blends with the shadows in her black leather pants and jacket, a gun and a grappling cable at her hips. Whatever her target is tonight, she's not letting anything distract her from it --

-- hm, except for maybe that movement in the alley below that should, by all intents, not be there. She's canvassed the area and made herself familiar with its regular comings and goings, and this isn't one of them. Even if it's some mugger with a knife, she's not worried. She hooks her grapple over the edge of a roof and slides down to ground level to confront whoever's there. Whether it's you or she's accidentally your savior remains to be seen...

Wildcard
((Have we already planned something out? Would you rather do something else? Put it here!))

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Movement came in the form of purposefully spilled food items near the entrance of the alley, part of it smeared deeper into the shadows to hint at the struggle still occurring.

Echo had A Day already, but this just took the cake. The mugger had him shoved against a wall and punches him, waving the knife around wildly before pointing the tip of it at his jaw.

"–Wallet, phone, everything you got or you're losing your face!"

"I already lost some pay an' a tip, thanks to you," Echo levels with the man, his brow furrowing the second the blade deftly slips, leaving a light trail down to his neck.

"Wallet!" He nearly shrieks, forcing the tip deeper to get Echo to begrudgingly comply.

Aeon touched down a few feet away and pointed her gun at the mugger, letting the click of the hammer being drawn back announce her arrival.

"I'm going to have to ask you to give that back to him. You didn't say please."

Both simultaneously look up, but Echo had the better vantage point. The mugger nearly freaked out upon hearing the click, spinning around to face Aeon, his bravado swiftly unraveling now that he was being held up at gunpoint.

"Where th'fudge did you come from– ?!"

The new distraction gave Echo an opportunity to sloppily smack the knife out of the guy's hand, metal clattering into a pile of cardboard boxes.

"My mother, where else?" She took a step forward, directing a wink over the thug's shoulder at Echo. "Come on, now, give him his wallet back and maybe I'll let you leave and rethink your life instead of calling the police."

The wink was met with a mild smirk. That was a good answer. A valid one, at that.

Now knifeless, the mugger became visibly frantic under the intimidating pressure of Aeon's coaxing and Echo's low-level glower. Whatever protest he had in mind died in the back of his throat, turning into a soft whine before he finally conceded.

"Fine!" His voice cracked, flinging the wallet away and raising his arms up. "There! Happy!?"

"That's not my question to answer," she said mildly, looking once more to Echo. "Are you, handsome? I have a feeling I can make him do just about anything. We could see if he feels like embarassing himself a little more, tonight."

There was a glint in her eye as she looked at the mugger that said she was fully capable of making him heel, and she'd be happy to do it - but her smile was still playful, not malicious. Whatever she'd put him up to would hurt him between the ears, not anywhere else - something that would make him think at least twice about his course of action that night.

Go figure, even when you had perfectly good coffee brewing in the office, the moment one person suggests a coffee run, there ends up being several other orders and of course, who does the task end up falling on? One of the interns.

This is why Cal's found standing in like at a popular shop, looking over the list he'd written in his notebook. It's a little depressing how much of his notes are coffee or lunch orders rather than potential story items or pointers, but it's all part of the job. Finally he steps up to the counter to relay the order when a commotion outside draws everyone's eye to the door. A man charges inside and grabs what he can to try and barricade the door, police cars pulling up outside in the street.

"All right, nobody move!" he shouts, brandishing a gun that naturally sparks off some gasps and screams in panic. "We're all gonna sit in here nice and quiet or things'll get messy." Nervously he glances about between outside and the people within.

At the counter, Cal swallows, sharing a concerned look with the workers behind him.

Monica had been in the process of enjoying her customary Wednesday morning breakfast treat - a splurge on an order of those tiny hockey-puck shaped egg cakes with the bacon and gruyere cheese, and a cinnamon cold brew with extra sweet foam - when the commotion started.

She stayed stock still, her eyes the only thing moving as she surveyed the shop, looking for anything that could be useful. A bookcase full of hip best-sellers and a few albums largely banked by coffee mugs and tumblers, displays of French presses and bags of coffee beans ... none of them stocked closely enough together for the optimal domino effect that would have made this a quick solve. She'd have to think fast and stall for just a little time.

"Excuse me, but if no one moves, how is anyone supposed to get you the money?"

Cal glances over towards the woman, brows arching. He's sure it's not the first time he's seen her here, but inwardly he cringes when she speaks up.

The man with the gun looks around before pinning the speaker, looking at her almost dumbly. "Wha? Look, I didn't ask for money did I? Now just do everyone a favor and shut up," he scowls, glancing back outside.

So he just wants to avoid the police. Which means he's got something on his hands or on his head that isn't any good. She can work with that. Unfortunately, her coffee is cold. But she recalls the man next to her ordering a double espresso and sitting down just a moment before all this started - which means he would have ideally had half an hour to read his newspaper before he could drink it without burning his mouth.

First he didn't want her to move. Now he didn't want her to talk. For a dominatrix, those were fighting words. For one who was also a mercenary in her spare time, it was practically an invitation. Monica motioned for the man to be silent, then grabbed his cup while the crook's back was turned and flung it with scalding accuracy at his gun hand.

"He's already at a one-star rating," Echo replied, taking a second to see where his wallet went. But the more he thought about it, a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as a brow arched, trusting her tone despite the fact she's still holding a gun. "Go easy on him."

During the exchange, the mugger nearly babbled, veering back and forth between a quick apology and begging to just be let off the hook. One last burst of frustration led him to a third option: try to run before Aeon carried out her fun.

Cal had been watching her the moment Monica had drawn attention to herself. He tensed as he saw her move while the gunman was preoccupied, looking over towards the baristas to mouth 'get down' as he gestured as much as he dared with his hand yet on the counter.

He looked back in time to see that cup sailing across the room. The gunman shouted as the hot liquid sloshed over his hand and the gun he held, his fingers loosening around it. It fell along with the cup, the latter of which fared worse as it shattered on the ground. Clutching his reddened hand, the man's eyes looked wildly about the store for whoever threw it.

She watched him scurry, then retrieved Echo's wallet and held it out to him. "Within a week he'll be trying some sort of self-help regimen. Maybe failing. Maybe he'll discover macrame or community service. Who knows?"

As she spoke, she looked Echo over - in part to see if he was injured, and in part because he was certainly not hard to look at.

"Still in one piece, handsome?"

He didn't have to look long or far, as the moment the cup was in the air, she launched herself at him. His gun didn't even hit the ground as she slid into position to catch it, grabbed his scalded arm with her free hand, and twisted it around his back, thumbing the magazine out of the gun onto the floor and rendering it almost useless.

"One bullet left in here, and it's in the chamber," she said lowly in his ear, kicking the ammunition underneath a display shelf and keeping the gun aimed at the floor. "Leave now, without this weapon, or you know where it's going."

A foot fetish magazine... seriously? God, this is embarrassing. But he's heard that this person is the one to go to if someone wants something... illegal. So he'll take a chance. It's nothing fancy. Just a request for A.F. to reach out to him regarding... services.

His phone rings the day the ad is placed - at a time of day where she will seem punctual, but not overeager for business.

"Is this E.K.?"

Eddie jumps when his phone rings. He hasn't been nervous about this at all, why would you even think that?! He swallows and answers.

"Uh... yeah. I'm guessing this is A.F.?"

"Thanks for that," Echo said as he took his wallet back, stealing a glance in the direction of the escaping mugger. "Whatever he does, let's hope he at least tries fiver more things before ending up in another alley again."

But he looked fine in both senses of the word. Part of it was due to the mugger upsetting the combination plates, drinks, and pho orders he had in hand, the liquid portion already seeped into his clothing as the material now clung to his body.

His nose wrinkled as he shook out his jacket. "Yeah, I think I am. The knife was sharp, but it wasn't as hot as the soup."

"Correct. That wasn't a very detailed advertisement." She smirked down at the magazine in her hands, rubbing the glossy paper between her thumb and finger. "First time?"

She moved up close, not minding the concept of personal space at all as she tilted her head to inspect the side of his neck where he'd pressed the knife.

"No, not bad at all. That poor jacket, though..."

She plucked at the wet fabric, pulling it up away from his skin for a moment before letting it go. "Need a shower? My place isn't far. I can throw this in the laundry for you."

Who needed personal space anyway? Both her stepping in to look at his neck and plucking at his shirt caught Echo off guard, but he played it off as best as he could.

"It had a good run," he tried to laugh, only for it to die in his throat when Aeon made the offer. On one hand, he'd be imposing and it would be better if he went back to his apartment. On the other, she was outright asking him and it was better than being soaked in beef broth and orange soda.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "...Think I'll take you up on that."

"See that? I've only known you thirty seconds longer than the other guy and your choices are already infinitely better." She smiled and extended a hand. "Monica."

She'd be walking a line inviting him back to her place after meeting him during The Other Gig, but he seemed harmless - or at least, not likely to try to sell her out to anyone. Or to know the sort of people she could be sold to for any sort of value.

"My building's this way..."

That earned the woman a slight grin. "Echo," he replied, meeting her hand halfway for a light handshake.

On the surface, there was nothing to suspect. And as far as he knew, he was a regular dude who was getting by with fast food deliveries and somehow involving himself in situations that usually ended up being dangerous. But so far, this was nothing out of the ordinary.

His brow lifted. "You weren't kidding," he commented, letting her take the lead since it was her place.

He sighed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Uh... yeah. I didn't know how much detail to put in it since I'm not looking for, uh... feet..."

Edited 2021-05-19 02:15 (UTC)

"That's fine. Most people keep them simple and save the details for the call." She dropped the magazine on her kitchen counter and tilted her head to trap her phone between her ear and shoulder, deciding to pull open the fridge and fix herself a drink.

"So, Mr. K, what sort of things above the ankle are you looking for?"

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Under the Gun

The Merc

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Well we did talk about coffee - hope this works!!

Love it, thanks! :D

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lmk if this is ok!

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