Participants:
| Scene Title | Pop |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Ethan sends Odessa on a crash course in bar survival with a strong undercurrent of domestic terrorism. |
| Date | November 13, 2008 |
A punk rock pub through and through, The Surly Wench is dim, cramped, and incredibly popular. It's a small, rectangular venue with a bar bordering one entire wall. Despite this, ordering a drink on a weekend can be an exercise in line-waiting and rib-elbowing. There are a few small tables ringed with high stools for seating, but these are prime real estate. The majority of the patrons are forced to stand shoulder-to-shoulder on any given night. Almost half of the cramped interior is devoted to a low stage for live music. There's no dance floor. If you feel the need, you'll have to thrash in place.
The music inside the Wench pounds loudly, reverberating outside the walls of the pub. It even manages to penetrate into the silent reprieve of the vehicle that idles outside the bar. It's a late night, and most of the inhabitants of the place are most likely plastered, or sober and trying to pick up women that -are- plastered.
A light wind picks up, and a crumpled piece of newspaper slaps against the windshield of the black Lincoln Town and Country. Inside the car, Ethan sits in the drivers seat, explaining something to the woman beside him.
Flicking on the small flashlight, he nods. "That's 'im." The man says as he stares at the picture in his hand. "Joseph Thomas James." Says the Wolf, frowning a bit. "Three fuckin' first names. Must be a prick. Anyways, stick to the plan. You go in, get all chummy wit' 'im. After you got 'im droolin' after you, you suggest the two o' you go to a place you know where it's quiet." The picture flicks over. "That's the address. Memorize it. I'll be waitin' there for ya." The Brit explains.
Finally he leans over her to reach into the glovebox. Pulling out a stungun, he offers it to the woman. "'ide that. Just in case. It only 'as one shot, so if you 'ave to use it. Make it count." He gives her one final look. "You sure you're ready to do this?"
"Men with three first names tend to be nothing but trouble," Odessa concurs as she studies the picture. "What if he doesn't go for it? I mean, what if I'm not his type? Or he's gay or something?" She fixes Ethan with a skeptical frown before staring out the window at the bar. "I'm ready for this. I'm just… unsure of the outcome." The stungun is accepted and tucked into the purse purchased to match the dress bought for just this deception. She shakes her head quickly and steels herself with a deep breath. "No. I can do this. I won't fail." She flashes Ethan a quick smile. "Wish me luck, eh?" She passes back the photo after having memorized the address and reaches for the handle of the door to climb out of the vehicle.
"You think I 'aven't done my 'omework? 'E's as lecherous as they come. Tease 'im a bit and 'e'll be takin' you 'upstairs'." A little grin to the woman. Then as she steps out of the car, the Wolf gives her a wink. "Oh, and if things start goin' to shit, you call me on the cellphone I gave you, straight off! Good luck, lovely." The man calls out before the door is closed. Giving her one final look, the car then roars off away from the woman, leaving Odessa alone. Alone with a bar.
Odessa stares ahead at the bar, willing the bewildered look from her face before she starts forward, red heels clicking on the pavement. Just before reaching for the handle of the door, she readjusts the skirt of her dress. Only once she's satisfied she's not quite flashing the lacy tops of her thigh-high stockings does she enter.
Oh, that is loud. Odessa winces faintly and strides inside as confidently as she can manage after a deep breath to steady herself. With her purse slung over her shoulder, she flexes her fingers at her sides restlessly. Where's her target?
The Wench is packed tonight, a live band is pumping the jams at insurmountably loud levels. For one not used to the 'outside' world this may be somewhat of an uncomfortable scene to impart on. Smoke stings the nostrils, and what noise can be heard over the music is either raucous laughter or yelling. The place is packed tonight, even without it being the weekend.
At the bar, Joseph James sits at the bar a few empty bottles, and a few more glasses at that in front of him. A scantily clad woman sits on the stool next to him. He is half leaning on her, his drool practically slipping onto her skin. The woman looks disinterested at best, and while sipping her own drink is looking about for some means to an escape.
He's already with a woman. Shit. He's never going to go for this, is he? That woman is dressed way sluttier and— Odessa squares her shoulders and strides up to the bar, coming to stand on the other side of Mister James. She opens her purse just enough for her to appear to be rummaging through it, but not wide enough for the stungun within to be spotted. "Oh, shoot," she intones loudly enough to be heard over the music.
"I bet you five dollars I can kiss you without touching you." James slurs to the black haired woman to his side. A passive and non-interested comment is returned to him. So the drunken man engages on his bet anyways, leaning over the man seeming to be in his early forties. Black hair and a beard, the slightly unattractive man leaves over to pursue his wager. He plants a sloppy kiss.. on the woman's shoulder. Somehow his aim was off. The woman gives a disgusted noise as she picks up her drink and buggers off.
Just at this time, the man happens to hear another feminine voice nearby. Swirling around the man looks blearily at Odessa. "What's wrong?" Rolls off his tongue.
"Oh," Odessa whines pathetically, "I must have left my wallet at my sister's! And if I go back to get it, she'll start asking all sorts of questions and then she'll spoil all my fun. But I can't buy a drink without my wallet!" She pouts and closes her purse up, fixing a doe-eyed stare on the man at her side. "My night's over before it's even begun!"
A frown of the bearded man as he shares in on her pain. "That's terrible." He mumbles. "What a tragic.." His eyes half close for a moment as he tries to focus on her. "Tragic." He repeats, having forgot he already said that part. "Tragic mistake." He finally manages shaking his head. Joseph turns back to the bar, and goes to pick up a half empty beer bottle, as if he had forgotten about Odessa. Then..
"I know!" Comes his suddenly cheery voice as he darts her a look. "I can buy you a drink!" He's a regular genius, this one.
With the price of booze what it is… When you get it… If you get it… Odessa's expression falls flat when the man turns away from her, seemingly forgotten. But the enthusiasm returns in a blink before he can register she was perturbed in the first place when he comes up with this rather brilliant idea. Good, you got it. She gasps and claps her hands together in front of her gleefully. "You would do that for me? Oh, you are just the sweetest thing!"
"No.." The man says, trying to be modest. He gives a sheepish grin. Looking behind the bar he knocks on it loudly. "Bartender!" He nearly shouts. "Whatever the lady wants!" He says with enthusiasm, settling back in his seat he gives the woman another huge smile. Then his enthusiasm disappears for a moment. A little 'shh' and then the man flips open his coat to her, revealing a badge on the inside. "I'm a cop." He says with a broad grin, trying desperately to impress the woman early on.
Oh, fuck you, Ethan Holden. Odessa manages to keep her smile firmly planted on her face even though she can't keep the shock out of her eyes. "I'll have a Tom Collins," she tells the bartender before turning back to James and leaning toward the badge with wide-eyed interest. "Ooooh! A cop? Really?" She's so telling Sylar that Holden hooked her up with a cop. Dammit. "Your work must be so dangerous." She looks up with feigned concerned, one hand fluttering over her chest. "Oh, but you're a hero, aren't you?" She smirks slyly, "I like heroes."
A deep grin. "Yeah.. I've been fighting the good fight. I guess you could call me a hero, but I'd really rather you not." He lies blatantly. "Just trying to make the world a safer place, from those God Damn Freaks." He says with emphasis on each word before giving her a glazed over look. "Fucking Evolved!" He manages to slobber out. He peers at her for a moment and then finally, "I bet you twenty dollars I can kiss you without touching you." He says smugly.
Odessa takes a looooong drink from her Collins when it arrives. She lets out a breathy chuckle, betraying some of her nervousness. "N- Not here," she pleads. "I don't like an audience." She actually bats her eyes at the cop before narrowing them faintly without realizing it. After what he's just said? She's going to enjoy whatever Ethan does to him. "I know somewhere quiet we could go. Then you can show me all your…" She's reasonably certain she just threw up in her mouth a little there, so it's washed away with more vodka. It at least gives her a moment to decide on an appropriate word. "Tricks." That'll work.
Thick eyebrows arch high. A burp emits into her face as he grins.. slyly? At her. "I got a place." He mutters pulling out his wallet to make the payment on the tab. He is a law abiding police officer after all.
Does the drunk notice Odessa's backed up a good foot when he does whatever he seems to think was so very clever there? "I would feel a lot more comfortable at my place," she insists. "I mean, it would be awful nice of you to escort me. Then I can show you my gratitude for the drink." Which she is polishing off right now. Dear God in Heaven, Ethan owes her.
Smile. "Alright." The man says with that confident smile. A confidence that only comes from a man who's sure he's about to be laid. And James couldn't be more sure. He might.. If he wasn't so wasted. Once the tab is paid the man staggers off of his stool, ready to follow the woman wherever she should lead him.
Where Odessa leads him is straight to a cab, where she insists she has to sit up front, lest she get car sick. A fifty dollar bill slipped surreptitiously from her purse to the driver allows this arrangement to take place. And Odessa's quite fond of having a thick plate of plastic between her and the drunk. "Let me just call my sister and tell her not to wait up for me," she lies as she dials Ethan's number. "Hiiiiii~" she chimes cheerfully after he answers. "Jenny just called and her cat just died, can you believe it? The poor thing is distraught. So, I'm going to go be the very best friend she's ever had and console the poor thing. Everything went great tonight, though. I'll be to Jenny's in about… two minutes. I'll talk to you soon! Buh-bye!"
The abandoned building isn't too far away, and it's not too close to all the debris and destruction. Nothing extremely offputting about it until you get inside. Completely vacant, except for one room. In this room stands a set of studio lights and a tripod with a video camera resting on top of it. Just outside this room, Ethan leans against the wall, holding a cigarette between two fingers. His cellphone is wedged in between his ear and his shoulder. "Well done lovely. I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything about 'im, but such is the job. You live and you learn." He mumbles into the phone. Picking up his head the man flicks the cellphone shut. And then it starts to ring again.. He picks it up. "Whot is it, Wu-Long?"
The drunk puts up quite a contest when she insists on the front seat, but he eventually concedes and falls into the back. By the time the cab pulls up to the building the man is dozing in and out. Once the cab stops though, he jolts awake with a, "What the fu—" A peer to the front where the lovely blonde is and his smile is replaced. "Are we there yet?"
"We're here," the blonde assures him with a serene smile. The way the street lamps shine in through the windshield of the cab, illuminating her from behind, she almost looks like an angel. Fly-away strands of gold create a halo effect. Too bad for Mister James that the woman stepping out of the front seat of the car is the furthest thing from an angel he'll know. That is, at least, until she gets him inside. She opens the door for him, and waits patiently. Shrouded now in sharp contrast to when she was seated in the car, the shadows cast deep lines across the contours of her face. "It won't be long now. The longing makes it all worth it. I promise." She shuts the cab door and helps the drunk toward the abandoned building. "Tell me something… Have you dealt with many Evolved?"
"Fuck yes honey, I've killed bunches." Whether this is true or not is uncertain. "Fuckin' freaks. Someone needs to deal with this new guy." Pause for a burp. "Rickham." He rattles off as he stumbles over to try and latch onto the woman as they walk toward the building. "I'd shoot him myself if I got the chance!" He hicks, "World'll come to an end if we don't do something about these freaks.. Fuckin'.. mutants." He belts out, all the self righteousness in the world.
"Just keep talking, honey. You're making this so much easier for me." While the words are meant to be reassuring, the tone is dark. Odessa is all but dragging the man forward when they reach the building. "What makes you so sure I'm not one of them? Can you tell just by looking at someone?"
"You're too pretty to be a freak, sweetheart." The drunk man slobbers as they get close to the door. "Mitchell 08!" He suddenly shouts the campaign slogan rather loudly. Then he glances back at her one last time, right before they reach the door. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard." He says with a wide grin. Charming.
"Oh, you're going to get fucked all right. I promise you that." Odessa's smile is wide and assuring as she lets herself in and immediately makes a visual sweep for Ethan. He had better be nearby.
"Officer James." Comes the cockney accented words as Odessa's favorite person in the world right now emerges from the shadows. Two hands go up to grip the man's collar. "'Ow nice of you to stop in." The drunk barely has enough time to react before Ethan's forehead is thrusted with full force into the man's face. With a loud groan, the man crumples, seemingly unconscious in Ethan's grip.
"Ow'd it go, lovely?" Ethan asks as he drops the man in front of him and closes the door quickly. "There's zipties and duct tape in there, get 'em ready, by the chair." The chair in front of the video camera. The downed man is gripped by the ankles and efficiently dragged into the room set up for.. Whatever Ethan has set up.
"Don't you ever ask me to pick up another lech like that again. Do you understand me?" Odessa shudders. "I need to bathe in bleach." She turns on her heels and stalks off toward the other room, but she stops short and dances back a few steps when she spots the video recording equipment. She turns around and shakes her head at Ethan. "I can't be on camera."
"Whot kind of idiot do you think I am, sweet'eart?" Ethan rumbles as he drags the man into the room and then sets him on top of the chair. "Tie 'is 'ands." The man murmurs. "Listen, Odessa. I'm very good at whot I do. I 'ope you can learn to trust me." The Wolf says as he sends her a glance in the relatively dark room. "Was he that bad? Don't you feel a little honor in.." Straightening the man goes to fetch two items behind the camera. "Dealin' wit' 'im?"
"Oh, I'll be glad to rid the world of him," she assures her partner in crime as she secures the unconscious drunk to the chair with a sort of contemptuous zeal. "He was awful," Odessa insists. "You sent me after a cop. You could have told me. He almost drooled on me." The very thought sends another tremor of revulsion through her. She stands up and surveys her handiwork, looking expectantly to Ethan for approval. She sighs finally and stares down at the floor. "I trust you."
"'Ey. Come over here." Ethan says, not very demanding. Just sterner than usual. He steps forward to the woman. Lifting his hands he goes to place the two gloved hands on each of her shoulders, attempting to steady her. "You did well. Everyone will be pleased with the work you've done 'ere tonight. Sometimes we 'ave to make sacrifices for the greater good. You did that tonight, and I'm proud of you." He says as he makes eye contact. He may be a killer, but he knows how to handle 'employees' as it were. With that he motions for her to step behind the camera with him. Bending over he picks up a bucket full of water and splashes the man with the full content of it.
Odessa actually gasps and cringes away from the touch at her shoulders. "Don't!" She closes her eyes tightly and forces herself to relax a moment later, listening to him speak those reassurances. She nods quickly and scurries behind the camera. She can't help but smirk a little when their victim is doused. This part should cheer her up.
A light frown stains his features at Odessa's reaction. Weirdo. "I ain't gonna 'urt you Odessa. Relax." And then the man slowly starts to come to consciousness. From the back of his pants, Ethan recovers a glock, silencer already attached. "Shoot 'im in the foot." Ethan says softly as he offers the gun to the woman.
"Me?" Odessa takes the gun and it's clear by the way she holds it like it might be some breakable thing to shatter in her dainty hands that she's never handled a gun before. "You sure you want me to do that?" All the same, she's got one eye squinted shut and she's attempting to line up a shot. Did he have to pick such a small target? She might have been able to nail the torso at least somewhere if he'd said chest. She doesn't hesitate, but she does wait for the confirmation that he really wants her to attempt this.
"You deserve it, kiddo. It's silenced." Looking at her he shakes his head. "Keep both eyes open." A little frown as he walks over to her side. He brings up his hand to put on hers to help her, though he pauses before actually touching her. "May I?" He looks at her.
The man is certainly disoriented with different groans and general inquisitions into his location and current state of mind.
Almost reluctantly, Odessa nods her assent. "Go ahead." She's expecting it this time, and she has to learn to trust him. And what's more, she really wants to shoot that jackass tied to the chair. Real bad. She opens both eyes and adjusts her grip just a bit. "If you'd handed me a scalpel, I could have gone to town." But that would have meant being in front of the camera, and that's definitely not something she's keen on.
Ethan's hand laces over her hand slowly, gently. Standing directly behind her, he places a hand on her shoulder to position her correctly. "Keep your eyes on the target at all times. Line up the shot. Take a breath, 'old it. Then shoot." His hand guides hers smoothly to where the shot should be taken. "Go 'ead lovely."
For as hesitant as she was about lining it up, Odessa isn't afraid to take the shot. She was merely afraid to miss. With Ethan assuring her she's aimed just so, she takes in that breath, holds it for a count of one-point-five and then pulls the trigger.
"FUCK!" Comes the cry as the bullet pierces the shoe, blood spattering out and on the pavement. "What the FUCK?!" Comes the pained cry as the man thrashes around in the chair. "Who the FUCK are you people?!" He's panicked, disoriented, in pain, and drunk. Not a good night for Joseph James.
Ethan releases Odessa and goes to pick up a few pieces of paper setting behind the camera. "Read exactly what is on the papers or we shoot your other foot, and then we cut off your nuggets. Got it?" Ethan asks. He doesn't disguise his voice. No reason to, this man will be dead within the hour. "Darling," The Brit starts as he turns to face Odessa. "'It the lights, if you would." He motions to the stage lights positioned in front of the man.
"I don't see why we can't do it anyway," the woman mutters under her breath after Ethan's threat is leveled. At the order to hit the lights she smiles faintly. "Gladly." Once she figures out where the switch is, she flips on the lights. "Time for your close-up, Mister James."
Ethan grins a bit to Odessa's comment. He may be able to use this woman more often. He then looks to her and raises one gloved finger over his smiling lips, indicating a silence. Then the camera is rolling.
The man flinches at the sudden exponential increase of light, squinting, he peers through at something behind the camera. "Hello.." He says shakily and somewhat in a panic. "My name is Joseph Thomas James, I am a police officer." A deep breath. "And an activist against Evolved Rights." He gives a quizzical glance to the man behind the camera, then back to the poster boards he is reading. "I have recently been captured to show the world that intolerance will not be accepted." A deep, terrified breath.
Odessa crosses behind the lights and the camera now to stand nearer to Ethan. She shoots him a dark glance and then gives their captive a faux encouraging smile. "Go on," she sing-songs with false sweetness. "Keep reading." Despite the saccharine, there's a dangerous edge to her words that's carried all the further by the narrowing of her eyes.
Ethan shoots Odessa look. He brings up his finger to his lips once again. Then he pauses, his usual motto of give the police absolutely nothing to work with falters. It is alright if you give the police something to work with that carries them in the wrong direction. Those PARIAH clowns, they had a woman. He lowers his finger and simply nods approval as he changes cards.
"To the New York City Police Department. If this video is not displayed to the public.. What?" The man asks, staring agape at the things he's been told to read. "Why does it say that? Why do I have to say that?" He asks in horror, again wrestling with his restraints.
Ethan points at his opposite foot and gives Odessa a nod.
Odessa raises the gun again and lines up her shot oh-so-carefully. When she fires the second bullet, her aim isn't nearly as good as it was with Ethan's guidance, but she still managed to hit the side of her victim's foot at least. "Don't worry," she assures one man while threatening the other, "I'm sure my aim's improving. It'll be better next time."
Everything in Ethan's black ops mind tells him to scream SHUT UP to the woman, yet he doesn't. Not like she's on the grid for the police to find her. Though if her former Company captors get a hold of this video.. Well it would barely help them at all. All they would know is that someone who sounded like her was shooting this cop. It'll be fine, he tells himself.
Another brutal cry rings out as the bullet hits his other foot. "Oh God. Oh God, let me go, please." He looks at the woman pleadingly behind the camera. "Oh God.. I.. If this video is not displayed to the public, the bodies will continue to drop." His face screws up at the next line. "Fortis et libre?"
Ethan looks up at Odessa, points his finger to his head then gives the signal to pull the trigger.
The third shot was lined up before the order was ever given, and so she pulls the trigger in tandem with the signal. It's all Odessa can do to keep from crying out. She's seen these sorts of wounds before, but never caused them herself. She dances back a step, her heels clicking on the floor as she does so, but she manages to hold her tongue this time. Oh, Jesus. What have I done?
The camera is cut, and the lights flicked quickly by Ethan's incredibly quick movements. The cards are picked up, and after a lighter is produced from his pocket they are set ablaze. He tosses the burning paper to the ground, replacing the lighter. Then he walks quickly towards Odessa. He reaches one hand out for the weapon while the other goes to secure her by the elbow and escort her to the door quickly. She may not enjoy him touching, but right now it is a necessity.
The gun is relinquished without a fuss. The job is done. The bastard is dead. No more need for it. It doesn't take much coaxing, thankfully. Numb as she may be, Odessa knows they have to move quickly. That they need to get out. She wrenches her elbow free, muttering under her breath. "Don't touch me." Not now.
The man lets go of her elbow after she puts a bit of a fight. Reminiscent of his little girl when she was upset at him. Despite Odessa's feelings, despite that they just killed a man, a smile forms on his lips. This may make him look that much more sadistic and cruel, but the thought of his children long gone still brings warmness to him at times. The pair leave the room and walk down a long hall, quickly. At the end of the hall, Odessa may notice that the ground is a little more slippery than it was before. Once they get to the back door, it's swung out as they depart the building.
Once out of the building, Ethan produces that lighter from his pocket again. This time it's locked down, and as they walk away from the building, Ethan casually throws it over his shoulder back into the doorway they had just departed….
Odessa skids on the slick floor, but manages to keep her balance. "Oh, you didn't," she murmurs once they're outside. When he tosses the lighter back, she gasps. Quickly, so very quickly, she reaches out and catches the lighter in mid-air. "What are you doing? You'll destroy the tape!" All of that effort up in literal smoke? No bleeding way!
And now it doesn't look cool at all, it just looks silly. When the lighter lands in the doorway a quick fire lights up, only to result in an even quicker explosion. The door is blown off it's hinges and even though the fires roar up, the sound of the blast is the most extreme thing about it. Set up mainly to get attention rather than to bring the building down in flames. A fire will result, but nothing the Fire Department can't handle, and how lovely that they will manage to stumble upon Ethan and Odessa's handiwork.
A glare is directed in return to Odessa as the man turns on his heels and makes his way quickly from the building. "You've got issues." He points out.
The explosion sends Odessa reeling, covering her ears as she races forward to ensure she's not caught by flame, spark, or debris. "So do you," she informs him in a low voice.
 November 13th: A Very Brief Rendezvous |
 November 14th: For the Birds |