Participants:
Scene Title | Shock Tart & Looney Tune |
---|---|
Synopsis | Devi's nosing around has brought trouble to the doorstep of Anarchy Customs… again. |
Date | August 22, 2010 |
Anarchy Customs:Garage
This three story building is constructed from old, cracked concrete and cinder blocks, the naturally gray hue is long since caked with the common signs of neglect and vagrancy, filth and graffiti, common on the island. The graffiti here, however, seems notably fresh.
The entrances to the buildings are too wide, large bay garage doors. The words 'Anarchy Customs' are painted in chaotic letters on each. Just inside a large garage is home to various motorcycles and parts in different states of dismantling, repair, reconstruction, or destruction. The walls are cluttered with various tools, mobbed further with stolen street signs and more untamable, fresh graffiti. The smell of oil clings to the air as eagerly as the grease stains spattered on the concrete floor.
Across from the large, bay garage doors, a single black-iron, spiraling staircase is set beside the opposite wall, corking up to the floor overhead.
It's early in the afternoon when Warren and Elle arrive, and he knocks hard on the large garage door of Anarchy Customs. "Warren Ray!" he introduces with loud enthusiasm, wearing a black suit with the jacket unbuttoned and a white shirt under it. His black tie and jacket blow in the breeze for a moment, and he balls his fists up in their white leather gloves. He seems very excited, teeth clenched hard together in a wide grin.
It's at these moments that Elle might be able to tell he's the particularly crazy one.
Devi is hard at work. The demolished spider-demon-mechine-thingy is in mid-state of disassembly and repair. The woman's dark hair is done up in a long French braid, tied at the end with a little metallic star at its end. Her cut-off denim capri pants are painted in a thick layer of grease along with her old t-shirt that reads Coke-a-Cola in faded silver. She jumps at the racket on her metallic garage door and makes a quick effort to drape her experiment in a tarp before wandering over to the wall. She jams her finger into the button, setting the door to slide open. "Yeah?" she inquires, put off by the interruption.
Taking Warren's clothing as an example, Elle has dressed herself up, as well. She's got herself done up almost like a pinup model, with her hair curled and her makeup bold. She wears a red dress today, and matching red heels. She's more one for quiet observation, her brows arched high as she observes Warren's excitement over all of this.
As Devi opens the door, Elle offers a charming smile and a small wave. "Hello there~!" This is chimed in a sing-song voice.
"Let's not beat around the bush, eh?" Warren's eyes suddenly flush with a reflective silvery color that covers both the whites and the iris, causing it to appear as if he has two silvery spheres in his sockets. "A tracking signal went off in here, and considering it wasn't an explosion, it was some sort of mechanical trap. So, tell me…" He walks up a little closer, then leans in to get eye to eye with Devi. "Where is my work?" he asks with the most dangerous of slasher smiles.
The biker diva scowls at the overly merry note with which the blonde greets her. "Hi." She responds in a drawn out note of irritation before turning her dark gaze to take in Warren's approaching form. Her body ripples with the anxious tension that seeps into her muscles as the 'gentleman' leans in. "You!" she suddenly blurts out, eyes growing wide as if there is a sudden need to take in every detail of the man's appearance and imprint it in her mind. "Well, you certainly did make this whole searching for you easy, fucker. Look what you did to my shop!!"
Devi takes a brave step forward, prodding a greasy finger to the man's chest and leaving a mocking blob of grease on his fine white shirt. "Why don't you take your scheming ass and get the hell out of my shop. You can leave your tart, though, " she teases with a smirk, daring a quick wink in Elle's direction.
The little blonde blinks, tilting her head to one side as Devi takes a step forward, that smile still playing across her features. She spares a glance to Warren, her brows arching high; otherwise, she remains completely silent. This should make for a very fun evening. And she gets to see what her 'boyfriend' is really like.
"Easily fixed. I do have a team of forty men." Warren looks down at the grease on his shirt, then shakes his head with a seemingly patient smile. "And I think you mean, look at what I did to your shop… and by I I mean You, from a first person perspective." He's looking over the shop from his spot, his intuitive eyes scanning over things in disrepair, searching for anything of his doing. But he's already taken note of subtle marks, imprints, the speed of which impacts happened.
"Oh, so it's my spider robot, the big one. Alex built that. I'll just detonate it, I'm not a fan of Alex's work. Alex is the other me, he's being punished for trying to kill me and Mortimer." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a patchwork remote, full of all sorts of buttons that perform a number of tasks, mostly involving frequencies. Devi would likely be able to determine it's full of convoluted functions, and if she's studied the robot, she'd be able to put it together that this thing is both capable of controlling and exploding the thing. "Now, where's the self-destruct button…"
"You know, a lot of people like to tell me drugs are bad…" Devi comments as her eyes work over the little mechanism in the guys hand, mind working to evaluate the systems functions at a glance. "But, in your case, I think you could use some." Her body gives a little jolt as she recognizes the little remote's purpose, her hand disappearing behind her back to reappear with her gun drawn to the front of Warren's head.
"Alright, Looney Tune, you don't want to go blowing us up. Especially with your pretty lady here, right?" She supports the butt of her gun in the opposite hand, even as she backs away a few uncertain paces. "Listen, I'm like you. That's quite the piece you, er… Alex, invented. I'm just studying. Consider it flattery, right?" She risks a quick glance from Elle, to the tarp-draped contraption, and back to Warren.
Oh no she didn't just point a gun at Elle's man. The little blonde's eyes narrow for but a brief second, her hand raising up as if to make a 'stop' motion. "Please, put the gun away!" This is said wth a helpless tone, her brows furrowed with concern. But that's just an act, one that Elle is particularly good at as well.
Suddenly, a jolt of electricity is sent over Warren's shoulder, aimed directly for Devi's gun hand, right as the woman is looking to the tarp-draped contraption. "Fucking bitch, you will not pull a gun on my man when I'm around.""
Warren quite possibly expected Elle to flip out, since he's still looking at his remote even as she fires the bolt of electricity. "Huh? Did you say something?" he asks in what seems like genuine absent-mindedness, but it's clearly crazy. He, oddly enough, is intrigued enough to give her the benefit of a doubt, and slips the remote back into his pocket. "Like me? What makes you think you're anything like me? And what's this about flattery? You're tampering with one of my machines, do you have any idea what kind of traps you might encounter on such an endeavour? But I like you, you don't consider the consequences of your actions, so let's take a look at what you've done so far?"
"Ah!" Devi jumps back as the electricity shoots across her hands, prompting a quick aroma of singed flesh alongside the sensation of quickly singed nerve endings. The biker bitch stumbles back, landing with a loud clatter on the bottom rung of the spiral staircase, her arms and legs awkwardly splayed as she blinks away her gawking surprise while staring at Elle. She is suddenly humbled about her own degree of insanity. These two are something far beyond your regular adrenaline-junkie.
Devi pulls herself up by the railing, dusting herself off despite the insurmountable amount of grease on her flesh and clothes. "I dunno… I can just…" she works her hands in front of her as if playing with a rubix cube, only to stop and look to Warren. "Like me, huh?" She grin-grimaces and waggles her brows, giving a falsely-agreeing nod. "Careful, bub, you might make me blush." With that, and given she has no other choice, she walks over and tears the tarp off the machine.
The spider is, as stated, in the middle of reconstruction. Warren's eye would catch the dream of what it is to be - very similar to his/Alex's creation, with only an added flare of flash and only a single modification - a flame thrower. Devi's ability most definitely limits her gauge of creation, inviting only the one addition to its making, but working to sell bikes and being a woman has encouraged a polished look to the spider o' death-machine. "It's kinda like cuttin' open the frog in science class for me…" she mumbles, dancing her fingers across a mechanical legs.
The little blonde offers a slow smile at Devi's surprised reaction, stepping in the doorway and gently running a hand over Warren's lower back, as if to remind him that she has his back. Then, she turns that satisfied smile toward Devi, watching as she unveils the spider-o-death. She's silent once more, content to watch Warren at work.
"You should be careful, Elle's very possessive, and a sociopath." Warren's silvery eyes scan over the machine as he walks in, hunching down and removing a white glove to reveal his clockwork left hand. The bronze-colored hand has a metallic shell with little openings that show off the endlessly complex number of gears, thousands of small gears. Though there's still hidden parts, it's clear that the hand is only a small portion of the entire machine. He uses this hand to reach into the spider, touching and pulling at things curiously. "Alex is still an amateur, he doesn't have my experience with this ability, Mechanical Intuition. You seem to be lacking in experience too, but…"
He looks up at her with a very impressed smile, nodding in approval. "You're just what I need. I have a factory now, and I've been working on collecting people who can help me. In exchange, I'll give you the manpower to quickly fix your garage, and I'll teach you to be better."
Dark eyes fall back to Elle after Warren's comment. "Don't worry, Shock Tart, I won't step on your toes with this one…" Even under stress, Devi's tendency towards nicknames finds no relief. She turns back to watch Warren prod at the machine, taking in his hand for a long moment before cringing uncertainly as he pokes around her pet project. "It only started happening 'bout a year ago. And, I've only been playin' at it for a few months, honestly…" she comments as a way to ease the blow to her ego in regards to her lacking skills.
The biker straightens, both brows lofted high at the proposed offer. "You drive a hard bargain. Morals aren't my strong suit," unless Cardinal's around to rub off a good dose of his hero, "So you've got me hook, line, and sinker. But, I gotta know what's the factory for?"
As Warren offers his warning, Elle flashes another one of those charming smiles Devi's way, running her hand through her hair and generally acting like a charming little lady. "He's right!" She giggles. "I really don't want anyone else putting their hands on my Warren. Or Mortimer, sweet little thing he is." Suddenly, she gives Kat a very dangerous look. "So I'll hold you to your word." She runs a hand through her hair, then, turning to peer at the modified spider-o-death thoughtfully.
"The lack of morals is a good start. We're funded by the government, but I'm allowed to do whatever I want. The catch is that if the government has a commission, we build it and sell it to them. I don't care much about money, so you wouldn't have to worry about not having it evenly split." Warren takes a good look at the flamethrower, rubbing his chin. "You didn't build the flamethrower yourself? Can you build things yourself?"
He stands up straight, sliding his glove back on, then reaches into his pocket and hands her his card. It's a black business card, with stylized red letters that say The Locos, then a few phone numbers. If she knows anything about the criminal underworld, she'll know that the Locos are the batshit insane former Staten Island gang that would just plain blow up or completely slaughter other gangs, and their territory was essentially a ghost neighborhood due to people avoiding them.
Devi's curiosity stays poised in the arc of a single, dark brow on her tattooed face. "The government is giving you money…" She grins. "God bless America." She pinches the card between her singed fingers with a little cringe, eyeing it with no obvious recollection for the name. She arrived too late, it seemed to take weight in the rumors of the gang that had moved on. It is her Ravens now, that work through Staten with a little less bomb-craze than the old Locos. She scratches at the raven tattooed on her throat as she stuffs the card into her pocket. "I'm not sure. I keep getting these images." She taps forcefully on the front of her head, grimacing as a show of just how frustrating these quick sights in her mind truly are. "They flash there. Ideas. But, they're incomplete or keep slipping away. Weird impulses… like turning my poor bike into an oversized blender." She scowls at the thought and blows a kiss to her motorcycle in the corner.
It's the first she's voiced her ability aloud, and it's to these two with a few loose bolts. Who'd have thought.
Elle turns, peering at the motorcycle thoughtfully. That's something to keep in mind if things turn sour. But then, it doesn't look like the situation is going to turn bad, in any case. How her crazy boyfriend manages to convince people to join his cause so easily is beyond her. But, whatever works best. She turns, watching the pair with a charming smile.
"You see things? I just feel it, I know. I get an idea like anyone else, and then my ability handles the rest. But these impulses, I have them too, the impulse to build my ideas, they're so hard to fight at times…" Warren moves to place his gloved mechanical hand on Devi's shoulder, giving her a nod. "You can keep the robot and experiment, I've disarmed anything that might jump out and surprise you. But those urges, you should channel them instead of suppress them."
He walks over to Elle and places a hand to her back. "My dear Elle here, she's always been taught to suppress her urges, told that she's bad because she's crazy. Instead, I give her nice targets for torture, people who deserve it."
Devi glances aside to the hand resting on her shoulder, but turns her dark gaze back to Warren. Strange, that she should find kinship with such a whack job. "Thanks. You know, for not blowing us all into little pieces." She picks up a clean rag from the corner of her work bench, tying it around her more wounded hand with a little grimace.
"It's goin' to take a few days before I'm any good with my hands, but thanks for the…" she nudges her head towards the spider-death-trap, before looking to Elle. "You two make a good couple," she notes with a blatant grin. "Now, if ya don't mind gettin' out of here? I need a joint. Make sure your boyos knock before they come in to clean up, yeah?" She shudders with the tension still lining her body and turns to the stairs. "I'll give ya a call when my hand's all good. Peace." With that her boots thud up the stairwell.
As she's spoken of, Elle raises a hand, prompting that ominous crackling sound as electricity suddenly begins to arc over her fingers. "It's really not my fault that I'm crazy." She grins down at the electricity, before it suddenly fizzles out. She smiles brightly to Devi at the compliment. "Why thank you! I think the same thing." She offers a sweet smile in Warren's general direction.
"I'll send fifteen men tomorrow, you can order them to clean up however you like. They'll stay for as long as they need to, but they'll be switching shifts since most of them have day jobs." Warren takes Elle's hand, then starts heading back out of the garage door. "Have a nice day!" he raises his remote and presses a button, and the door starts lowering behind him.