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Elizabeth March
Elizabeth March
Sleuth About Town

Jan-9-2013 07:52

(Missed this space. Maybe we can revive it. I sure hope so. Not a great start, but should anyone join, I'd be really happy.)

It had been a long run.
Travelling all over the world to chase after Lazarus Metzger had been tired.
All she wanted now was to sleep.
As the young woman entered the small apartment building, she laughed quietly to herself.
One more time, she repeated her favourite sentence.
"Reformed burglars never sleep, dear."
Locking the door behind her, Elizabeth March - at least that was how she was known at the moment - got rid of her shoes and took a deep sigh.
Fixing herself a drink, she walked up to her desk. Pieces of paper were there, just like she had left them... right?
"Whatever they wanted, they didn't find it. Doesn't matter."
Nobody had broken in. So the only possible conclusion was that someone had paid - well - for her key. Not important. The money in the drawer was there, to the last penny. It wasn't cash they were after.
After a softly mumbled curse, she went in the bathroom for a long bath. And then, out back in the street.
The Tricky Mister was the place when you needed information - or maybe even bumping into an old friend.


David Adams
David Adams

Feb-6-2013 17:12

She promptly turned on him. "And YOU!" She raised her fist, knife at the ready. "Don'tchyou give me that, 'It's okay, baby, stuff!' That idiota SHOT at me, per Dios!"

Dave backed up and held up his hands placatingly, seeing the two armed Navy Shore Patrol guards come up from the street behind her, guns out and aimed at her. "Okay, okay, Liz. I was wrong. But it's over now. Can you put the knife away, please?" He smiled disarmingly.

She glared at him, then at the man cowering in fear and pain on the sidewalk. "Vhy? Vhy should I?"

Dave nodded at the two Navy ensigns behind her back, "Because these guys are going to take care of your shooter. They'll find out why he was after you, and they'll let me know. And then I'll tell you. Okay? Will that work?"

Elizabeth seemed to be coming down from her rage, and seemed to be having a bit of trouble thinking. After a couple seconds, she nodded slowly, "Si, yes. That is, how you say, okay."

Dave lowered his hands, gesturing to one to the Ensigns to deal with the wounded man, and held out the other to Liz. "Will you put your knife away for now, please?" He smiled at her, careful not to anger her again.

Elizabeth considered this for a moment, then the knife disappeared back under her coat. "Si," she replied.

Dave slowly lowered his hands and breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you for that, Signorina." Reholstering his gun, he walked calmly towards her, and gestured towards the Tricky Mister, careful not to touch her this time. "Would you be willing to wait for me in the Mister? I'll only be a minute, I promise. Go ahead and order yourself a drink, and please tell Cyrus I'd like a double Bourbon, both on my tab, thanks." He saw her eyes narrow at that, and smiled inwardly, "I could really use a drink right about now, how about you?" At her slow nod, he replied, "And I'd never walk out of there alive if I let a lady pay for my drink, now could I?"

David Adams
David Adams

Feb-6-2013 17:49

At his steady smile and slow wink, she reluctantly grinned at that, "All right, si, you vin. I vill vait for tchou inside." And she turned and disappeared into the Tricky Mister.

No sooner had Liz stepped inside the bar than Dave stepped over to the sobbing invalid, temporarily forgotten until now, and hauled him to his feet. His tone turned from conciliatory to sharp instantly. "You! UP. NOW!" He took an Ensign's handcuffs, and cuffed the man's arms behind him, ignoring the man's cries about his arm and shoulder wounds. "What the HELL were you doing shooting at that woman for?" He asked grimly.

“That b***h's Catherine Breit, the head of the Circle of Light in Shanghai. Isabella Santanelli, the Dona of La Cosa Nostra, has a $10,000 bounty for anyone who offs her. D'you know how much that could buy me?" The guy was practically salivating at the thought, his pain temporarily forgotten.

Dave sighed and shook his head to himself. Liz had just had a closer call than she knew. He pushed the pudgy felon against the wall of the bar, searching him for other weapons. "You unbelievable moron! That woman's not Catherine Breit. She's also not Breit Katherine, though she bears a much more striking resemblance to her than she does to the Earthly Sponsor. I've met both of them, and you're way off track all round."

David Adams
David Adams

Feb-6-2013 17:52

Finding no more weapons, he pushed the villain towards the two Shore Patrolmen. "Take him down to Base HQ and hold him there. No phone call, no lawyer." At the man's blustery "You can’t do that!" Dave cuffed him on the back of his comb-over, and barked, "You have the right to remain silent. Use it!" He looked again at the two sailors, "He's charged with attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, firing a gun in a public place, and attempted murder of a federal officer. I'll be down in a little while to start the paperwork and the questioning. Till then, get four replacements up here, two outside the bar, and two on your regular patrol, and stay with this doofus 'til I come for him. That's all." He saluted them as they saluted back, let them take the prisoner away, rubbed his forehead wearily, paused to gather himself, then went into the bar.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-6-2013 21:21

Grem downs her drink. Her enhanced speed makes her hand blur, it looks like a child had dipped their hand in pain and made a quick smear up and down. She turns away from Lawliettine as she responds to Grem’s inquiry. What in the world is a shape shifter doing here? The only thing she could turn into is a bat and only a bat, is it even possible to shift to more than one? This Lawliettine does not seem like the type that would joke casually; she looked too sophisticated to be that kind of person. I could be wrong…

Grem wonders about what her reply to that would be, and finally decides on what she needs to say. Just as she opens her mouth, a putrid smelling man had wedged his way in between them. She wrinkles her face into a frown, although she wasn’t uncomfortable with getting close and personal to get information…this wasn’t the case and it just makes her plain uneasy.

The man clearly has some business to get done. The name ‘Santanelli’ triggers Grem to focus on what this man was saying.

‘Information, hmm? ‘ It had taken her some time to build up trust with La Cosa Nostra. Isabella knows Grem no longer walksthe world with a heartbeat, and she does not care. Business is business no matter what shape or form it comes in. Besides, Isabella knows that having a little supernatural protection here and there hurts nobody. Grem is amused by the usually routine of the bartender playing dumb and asking questions about his favorite mystery authors. The merchants in this town are the amusing sort and all seem to enjoy reading quite a bit. She wishes that she could answer these questions instead of bribing them…

The Q & A did not last longer than 3 minutes. The man starts to leave; he wobbles as his balance is broken by an empty glass. Lawliettine’s comment furthers her frown. She IS serious. Lawliettine turns to Grem and offers for a drink refill. Oh…Grem is definitely going to need one, encountering a shape shifter is an incredible shock.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-6-2013 21:21

Why? Firstly because of their existence. Secondly because although her group of vampires did not use their supernatural abilities for evil (not often anyway), there are other vampires that do. She does not know what type of person Lawliettine is. Grem nods her head for the refill.

As the bullets escaped their barrels the scent of smoke is strong; as the bullets missed their targets shouting is heard. In response to the imminent danger heard from outside, Grem’s fangs appear as well as an angry growl. It became her nature now whenever a threat comes to her attention.

Washed Up Punter

Feb-6-2013 21:59

Grem became a blur as she rushes outside to confront the situation. She stands two feet away from the doorway, baring her fangs and ready to move. But, the situation was already over when she got there. All she could see is a man in fetal position nursing his knee as it leaked crimson onto the streets of New York. Her fangs retracted slowly, but she was not ready to return to Lawliettine just yet.

The woman started screaming in a language she did not recognize. It wasn’t hard to figure out that it was similar enough to Spanish, but not quite. Whatever she is screaming, from the tone it wasn’t anything nice. She turned to get a better look at the woman. To Grem’s surprise it is Elizabeth March. Grem had worked with Elizabeth in the past with some cases, as she has no vampire connections in New York. Last she heard, Elizabeth was chasing after Lazarus Metzger. She would have to ask how that went, but not right at this moment.

There is another man, Grem assumes that he is the one that shot the man rocking on the street. He looks like he had seen the world and that he had grown up faster than he had wanted. On him she picks up the scent that is sterile, a sickening chemical clean. Though faint, she catches the scent of latex. What type of man smells of chemicals, rubber, and conceals a gun?

Elizabeth speaks her broken English at the man while brandishing her knife. ‘I don’t remember the last time she was this mad. Oof, I don’t want to stay for this.’ Grem slowly returns to the bar. She needs another drink, preferably stiffer than the last.

Trusted Informer

Feb-8-2013 01:17

Lawliettine nearly spilled her whisky at the suddenness of it all. No it wasn't the gunshots, she got shot at all the time while solving cases. No, it wasn't the yelling and cursing in different languages, she'd had killers and suspects call her worse names. No it wasn't the fierce factional rivalry, that was part and parcel of being a detective.

Neither was it the sight of Dave and Elizabeth, who respectively looked exhausted and furious. Solid detectives were resilient and could overcome even the most sudden of shocks. Well, usually.

It was the fleeting flash of Grem's fangs as she'd reacted to the gunshots, and the astonishing speed with which she'd run for the door of the bar. Lawliettine returned to her drink and took a swig, regaining her composure in seconds. A curious smile found its way onto her face. A vampire, eh? And a beautiful one too. Now that wasn't something she encountered often in her line of work. No wonder she's felt a strange empathy with the newcomer.

As Grem returned looking paler than before, Lawliettine smiled and shrugged with apologetic helplessness.

"Oh you look like you definitely could do with a refill. But not the one you're having. A Bloody Mary, perhaps?"

This was followed by another small giggle. "I'm sorry, I know my puns are terrible."

Washed Up Punter

Feb-9-2013 00:06

Grem nestles herself back into the bar seat. With all the commotion, common goers fled inside the Tricky Mister to seek haven from the gunshots. Lawliettine remains poised as before, as if the whole scene and the world could not make this woman look startled. That is, if she is the shape shifter she claims she is…escaping danger is something she is probably used to. The situation probably did not even raise goose bumps on her skin.

She offers Grem a Bloody Mary. Grem tenses slightly. In her reaction to the gunshots, she had lost her composure and forgot that she wasn’t in a dark alley way but the noisy dim lit Tricky Mister. ‘I made a big mistake…’ she curses silently to herself.

As a red drink with celery stock appears in front of her, thoughts race through her mind. Calm down, Grem. Keep the conversation going and away from yourself.
“Thank you.” Grem raises her glass as Lawliettine raises hers. “干杯…Ganbei. (cheers).”

The two ladies sip their drinks. Grem did not want to admit that learning English had taken years, and her grasp on the language is not completely perfect. The understand she lacks are puns and idioms. Puns, what are those? “Oh, no. I think your puns look very stunning.”

Awkward silence.

“Lawliettine, is this your true form?”
And then Grem realizes the insult in the question. “I mean to say that you are very beautiful ...but your previous statements have taken my curiosity. This is the first time I have met a sleuth of your kind.”

It has been quite a long time since she had been back in Shanghai, it has been quite some time since she had seen her vampires. Loneliness is a sad affair, especially when you are away from your home.

Trusted Informer

Feb-10-2013 04:46

Lawliettine noticed the very slight tense movements in the other lady. It was understandable, life as a vigilante vampire was probably more worrisome than a desk job filing crime reports. She took a sip and rested her cheek on one hand.

"That's the most intelligent question I've heard in a while, Grem. You're probably an excellent investigator. You have good instincts and ask the right questions at the right time."

A slight tilt of the wrist, that made the ice cubes clink against the glass.

"To be honest, which I have been from the very beginning, I'm an actor. This is my true form, for this is the one I chose to adorn and identify with most of the time. As an actor I must learn to observe and emulate the character perfectly. The physical appearance is, well, just the outside. So is the voice, which as to be perfect."

Another sip. Longer this time.

"Imagine a combination of Dave's body and Elizabeth's feisty Portuguese tongue. Or a combination of that fat balding man's body, and your swift grace."

The bartender just happened to overhear that last bit, and raised his head in very slight and somewhat disbelieving curiosity. Not missing a beat, Lawliettine turned and grinned at him. "Awful, right Cyrus?"

"You bet." Cyrus shrugged and returned to minding his own business.

Lawliettine turned to Grem, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"And sometimes, I'm just a prankster at heart. I sensed a little...unpleasantness between you, and that man over there at the back."

She wiggled an index finger in Shady's direction, and leaned a little closer.

"Imagine if that scumbag extortionist were to crawl of this noisy hole and go for a walk down some sunny bend. And then he'd run into....himself."

Washed Up Punter

Feb-10-2013 12:56

A smile creeps onto Grem’s face. She takes a bite out of the ice in her drink, and pushes the glass away.

“I think…he would learn not to make threats to detectives trying to get the job done.”

She turns again towards Shady, whom this time has had enough drinks for the Tricky Mister to swallow him whole.

“Though, I think this job should wait until he has enough time to recognize that it’s not a drunk illusion.”

She turns back to Lawliettine.

The crowd at Tricky Mister is starting to die down to the last handful of people. Cyrus’ footsteps on the wood flooring echoed and bounced off the walls. Dave and Elizabeth are huddled in a corner. Elizabeth has calmed down by down, Dave on the other hand seems unsatisfied. Perhaps the information from the Cosa Nostra lackey was not what he was looking for. Grem makes a mental note to visit Isabella in the morning and see what all this bounty stuff is about.

Cyrus’ not so subtle hint that he wanted to wrap it up and go home, loudly cleaning glasses at the sink. Even Shady looked up in the direction of the clinking glasses and water running before plopping his head back into his arms. Grem reaches her cash in her pocket and sets the price of the devil’s juice on the counter. This ought to give her a bit more time to wrap up this wonderful idea.

“I’m sure you are familiar with when that despicable man decides to sober up. How about we meet up again here at the time he crawls out tomorrow? I’m sure we can teach him a lesson or two.”

Cyrus is now loudly of counting the money in the register, almost time to close shop. Grem reaches for the pen she keeps in her back pocket, and a half used napkin two seats away. She scribbles her number and address for the dingy studio she is currently residing in. She seldom lives IN the place, but that is where she let herself be found. By those she trusts, and those she lures.

“It seems Cyrus is wrapping up for the night.”She murmurs.

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