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Who are you, Dellilah?
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Dellilah
Dellilah
Well-Connected

Jan-8-2011 23:56

(OFF-STORY: I haven't touched my character for almost a year. Here I am now, attempting a return to the role playing stage, with some changes to my character -- but not reinventing her from scratch. Call it a makeover of her life since she last entered the stage many months ago.)

Replies

Dellilah
Dellilah
Well-Connected

Jan-15-2011 06:59

Dellilah gripped the white rosary in her hand and tried to stop herself from giving in to crying. If she did, she knew she would not be able to stop, and she had to tell this man what had happened. So she wiped her tears and followed him to the next room.

When someone gave her a cup of coffee, she put it down on a nearby desk without taking a sip. She felt a bit ashamed that she should had not told them beforehand, so that they would not have had to bother making it for her. As far as she could remember, she never liked the experience of drinking coffee; it made her heart beat uncomfortably fast.

As it is, her heart was already knocking painfully on her chest.

After taking a couple of deep breaths, she began to tell her story:

“Well, it all began this morning, at around 4 o' clock. Mama and I were preparing to open the bakery for the day -- she was at the kitchen, and I was at the dining area -- when she suddenly shrieked. So I ran to her, and she was trembling and so pale, like... like she had seen something that scared her so much.

“And I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that we were running out of flour and molasses and other things, which was strange because I checked the other night and we still had enough to last an entire week. But I was relieved that at least it wasn't anything too terrible.

“And then she told me to go out and buy the ingredients from the store, which was a long walk away from the bakery, about an hour on foot -- so two hours to and fro.

“She told me to leave immediately, because there would be a long line and I might return late, and a lot of other reasons I couldn't remember. And she was practically pushing me out of the door to get those things! It was so strange.”

“Why do you say it is strange?” asked the interrogator.

“Because Mama never allowed me to go out unaccompanied when the sun is not yet up in the sky. And it was still dark at that time.”

Dellilah
Dellilah
Well-Connected

Jan-15-2011 07:00

After getting a nod from the interrogator, Dellilah continued, “So I asked her if she would like to come with me, but she told me that someone has to take care of the customers, and that her walk was slow and that she would be burden, which I don't mind at all because I enjoy Mama's company. But she insisted somebody has to take care of the bakery; that was the only good point she made about it.

“I was confused but decided to just obey my Mama. Again, she reminded me not to take the 4th Street--”

“Why?” the interrogator inquired.

“Because... that was where she found me.”

“That moment you left the bakery, was that the last time you saw her alive?”

“Yes. Her last words were, 'Godspeed, my dear daughter.'” Dellilah's voice shook as she said these words. Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes. “I didn't know that was the last time I would ever see her. I wish I had thanked her for everything she has done for me. I wish I had told her... that I love her so much...”

She breathed in to grip her tears and continued her story, “Then, when I got to return at 7 o' clock, the bakery was burning. And the cafe, and our house... everything was on fire, and the neighbors were doing their best to stop the fire but it kept on growing and growing... and then the fire brigade came and finally got to stop the fire. And I screamed for my Mama and prayed that she had gotten out. And then, and then... she's... dead.”

Norah Noir
Norah Noir

Apr-4-2011 14:49

Detective Corelli seemed to have asked as many questions as he needed for the present. Now, as he spoke to his partner in low tones from the next room, Dellilah sat numbly in the chair, staring at her now-cold cup of coffee. The green pottery seemed uneven, she noticed distantly, and the handle was chipped.

She wondered why her brain was still working at all, when her home was burnt to the ground and her beloved Mama, the only person she knew of who loved her, was--

She choked on the thought and doubled over. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing could make this better. She rocked back and forth in anguish. Nothing, nothing, nothing...

A light hand on her shoulder made her jerk up. A dark-haired young woman about her own age was looking at her closely. "I noticed you didn't drink your coffee," she said quietly. "So I brought you some tea. It's decent tea, too, from London." She gave her a lopsided, sympathetic half-smile and handed her one of the two cups she was carrying.

Dellilah took the cup in shaking hands, and the grey-eyed woman sat down in the chair beside her. "I'm Norah," she said. "I thought you could use some company."

The tea was hot, and sweet, with a generous tot of whiskey. Dellilah took a grateful sip, and then another. Norah watched her drink, and nodded. "Good. We were all a bit worried about you. We have loved ones in here often, but you seem especially... well, hurting."

Dellilah took a shaky breath. "Mama was all I had," she said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "She found me, took care of me, loved me. I don't know who I am--" she stopped. How much of her story was it safe to tell anyone? "...without her," she finished quickly. Had the detective beside her noticed?

Norah took another sip of her own tea, and nodded. "You're safe here," she said, examining the ceiling. "But I understand. I wondered about that, you know, when I realized I recognized your face."

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

Apr-4-2011 20:27

Harry called Corelli to another room.

"Hey, man, I'm thirsty, what do you say if we file this one and go for a couple of cold ones?"

"I don't drink" said Corelli, while looking at the window that connected the interrogation room "Wait a minute, who is she? The dark-haired woman who is talking to miss Dellilah"

"Who? Oh, right, she must be a stenographer, look we can discuss the case at the Tricky Mister"

Corelli sighed.

***
"Another beer, Bernie, please" said Harry, dragging his voice all the way to the counter, Bernie looked at Corelli, who just asked for another coffee.

"So... what do you think of the case?"

"Why don't you drink a beer with me? Come on, we're partners..."

"No, I don't drink"

"Anymore"

"Good night"

***
Detective Corelli parked a few blocks from the house and decided to walk, he knew the place, it was becoming a familiar scene, except that this time there was something wrong, the yellow tapes were scattered so freely, hanging sorely trying to reach the floor, the scene made him raise an eyebrow, he returned to his car and looked for a flashlight, and his gun.

"This is detective Corelli from the police, you're trespassing a crime sce..."

At the faint light he could see a person, waiting in silence.

"What are you doing here?"

Norah Noir
Norah Noir

Apr-5-2011 09:12

Heart pounding, Norah froze as a shape materialized out of the fog. After a moment, she recognized Corelli's build, and then his voice, exasperated. "What are you doing here?"

He took a step or two closer, putting her inside the circle from the electric torch in his hand. From there, she could see the dumbfounded look on his face. After all, she was just an office face. She had no business mucking up one of his crime scenes.

Except that she had to try. "I don't know who did this," she said quietly. "But I think I know why. I found--"

"Found what?" Corelli's voice was steady, but his eyes sparked with something like fury. She knew how passionate he was about the losers, the nowheres-- the cases no one else would try to solve.

"A letter. Here." Checking her eagerness, Norah held up a small canvas bag. She had to convince him. Had to. "There's one corner that isn't burned beyond saving. I thought I could bring it back, and you could test it for--"

"You thought you could. Listen, Miss--" Corelli was keeping his anger in check, but barely. "I think you should know by now that evidence is not for hacking about. I also think you should find another position. That is all." He turned his back.

"I'm not a typist!" The words flew out of her mouth; two quick steps and she was between him and the road. "I solve murders. On the streets. Just not making enough to make rent. I wanted to work for your agency so I could learn-- even if I had to start as a stenographer."

Corelli sighed. Another rookie wanting to learn from the big guns, just what he needed. "Go home," he said. "Look, you can keep your job if you leave me alone. Just go home."

Except... he sighed again and turned around. Norah was still standing there, holding the satchel. "Before you go... what the hell did you think you could do that I couldn't?"

Norah took a breath. This was it. She smiled wryly.

"I got Dellilah to tell me where to look."

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

Apr-7-2011 19:21

Corelli sighed "What do you want"

"I want to be your partner"

"Not happening, I have a partner"

"Really?"

"All right, look, I've worked with women before, it's a crazy thing"

Norah walked to the door.

"All right, let's make a deal, what do you think?"

"What kind of deal?"

"When all this is over, I'll write you a recomendation to the women police reserve... and... wait, don't... all right, I'll talk to the chief, if he says it's ok, you'll be my partner, for this case"

"You have a deal, Mr. Corelli"

"All right, meet me tomorrow in the chief's office, and bring with you what you just found"

Norah Noir
Norah Noir

Apr-7-2011 20:24

Norah walked through the darkened streets on light cat's feet, trying not to sing. She'd done it! The first part. Loath though he might be just now to admit it, Corelli had a penchant for supporting the underdog. He'd be exasperated beyond all reason, but having given his word, he would not let her down.

Now she had to catch a killer.

The thought sobered her step as she turned into the darker part of town. The part where new, incandescent streetlamps did not push back the gloom and grime of real life. Back at the paper, the quest for truth had been a lark, even under the threat of kidnapping or worse. Here, living in the dark instead of just peering in for the occasional investigative expose'... well, it wasn't fun anymore. But the truth was all she had.

And she knew that if anyone was going to solve the mystery Dellilah wore like a well-made cloak, it would have to be her. Because of what she knew. Because of what she knew how to find. Thoughtfully, Norah played back her conversation with Dellilah- amused at how much she'd learned without asking one overt question.

All you had to do was know how to listen. Even without the music lessons she'd dreamed of as a girl, Norah had always been good at finding the tune. Now she just had to get Corelli to hear it, too.

Norah was so caught up in plans, in hopes, in the tragic longing in her client's face, that she barely caught the movement in the shadows. Long practice and sharp instinct had her diving before her brain was in gear. A bullet whistled past her ear. Her heart pounded in her ears. Norah grinned. She never felt more alive than when someone was trying to kill her.

It meant she was on the right track.

Now she just had to shake the pursuit, get home alive, protect the evidence and convince the world. Her feet skimmed across the cobbles. Anything was possible!

Until she thudded into a dead end. And turned, cradling her precious satchel tight to her chest. And recognized the face of her attacker.

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

Apr-10-2011 22:09

Corelli step out off the car, and looked at his watch, 11:37, entered into the diner and sat at the counter, next to a man in his early thirties who was devouring a sandwich. Corelli lit a cigarette while the waitress approached him.
"Good morning, detective, the usual?"

"Thanks, but I already drank a couple of cups of coffee, but some orange juice would be great..., and..." Corelli produced a note "have you seen a girl, by the name of Norah D. Noir, black hair, green eyes..., she lives in the building across the street..."

"Oh, Norah, I haven't seen her since yesterday, she comes here every morning for some tea and biscuits..., Is she in some kind of trouble? I swear she is a good girl"

"Oh, nothing like that..., but actually, she's going to get in some problem" said Corelli, nonchalantly, the look in the face of the waitress made him continue "she's late for work in her first day"

"Oh..., well, I'll bring you the orange juice"

"Thanks"

***

Corelli rechecked the note, sighed and knocked the door.

"Miss Noir? Are you there? This is detective Corelli"

A brief murmur answered him.

"Miss Noir? Is everything... ?"

Corelli waited for a couple of seconds, listening, pulled out his gun and started to kick the door, he cursed a couple of times after he hurt himself and then someone opened the door.

"Oh, there you are, glad to see..., sorry, it's the habit" said Corelli returning his gun to the holster, and upon seeing the red eyes in Norah's face, continued "Is everything ok?"


Norah Noir
Norah Noir

Apr-13-2011 21:48

Heart pounding, Norah stood in her doorway. She stared at Corelli's concerned frown. How far could she trust him? Pretty far, she thought. And she needed to trust somebody. She took a deep breath, and pulled open her door.

As the light hit her face, she felt rather than heard Corelli gasp. She knew what he was seeing. She'd done a lot of looking in the mirror, and it hadn't gotten better. The whole side of her face was black and purple with bruises.

Corelli reached sharply toward her, and stopped. "What happened?"

Norah managed a wry grimace. "I never feel more alive than when someone's trying to kill me. But I'm usually faster at getting away."

Corelli shook his head in disbelief. "Not last night?"

"After I left the crime scene." Norah shrugged, and motioned him inside. "You're not one for alcohol, I know- and anyway I used it cleaning this. But coffee?"

Norah's flat was not what Corelli'd expected. The room was packed with books, maps, street art and a battered piano. Her single window was crowded with thriving herbs. She motioned him to an ancient sofa and pulled down two mugs.

Corelli watched her as she poured from a battered urn. Her movements were hampered, her hands clumsy and swollen. But her eyes weren't that red from injuries. Something else was wrong.

He waited patiently for her to fill the silence.

Norah stared into the middle distance, clutching her mug like a life ring. "They took it," she said finally. "Left me in the alley out back- wanted me to know they know where I live. But they took the satchel. Now there's no way to prove anything. No justice for Dellilah, who has seen such pain. Just once, I wanted..."

She trailed off and gestured in frustration. "But they took it. And the case dies there."

Corelli watched her for a long moment, and made a decision. For the first time in a long time, he felt the old excitement rising. Deliberately, he put down his coffee mug. "In that case," he said, "we'll just have to get it back."

monkey slut
monkey slut

May-22-2011 15:33

i watched them wt were they talking about it had to be about the case but what had norah told corelli about what dellilah said why do i get the feeling this is not gouing to go well i heaved an exasperated sigh


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