Sleuth Home - Message Boards - Role Playing Stage

0 0
Airs and Heiresses
  <<First Page  |  <Previous Next>  |  Last Page>>  

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Jul-6-2015 11:19

New York, 1938
St. Regis Hotel
Rooftop Nightclub

"So there I was, staring down a barrel INCHES from death...and I told the man, 'darling REALLY, if you simply must shoot me do allow me to remove my earrings. They are Cartier, you know." Molly Maltese paused to take a sip of her Red Snapper, popping the olive neatly between her cherub lips before gnashing it to a pulp. "And the man was quite flummoxed, he said- I say, is that Riza Hawkeye?"

She rose, the group of rapt men in tuxedos and women in glittering dresses and furs murmuring their protests as she wended through their knees. But the apparition she was quite sure had been Riza Hawkeye had vanished in the crowd of New York socialites populating the exclusive terrace.

"Well, this place is a bit ritzy for Riza." she murmured, fairly certain her old acquaintance didn't make a habit of populating social-climbing fetes. And she reasoned, any time Riza had appeared before it was hardly ever for a pleasant cause. Well, maybe that was unfair. It just seemed she was more the swirl-of-furs-and-stiletto-daggers type than a frothy socializer like Molly herself.

Peering around, Molly saw nothing but the shadowed faces of revelers partially cloaked in the smoky haze. She had just been about to give up and go back to her companions when the most shocking hubbub began. Over on the north part of the terrace, she could distinctly hear the shouts of men and panicked screeching of females. Moving forward, she could just make out..

"Did you see... The Ambassador... who could have... murder! Someone has pushed the Ambassador off the building!" Molly picked up speed, expertly weaving through the crowd of panicked voices. Sirens already began to sound twenty stories below. Just as she grasped the ledge and looked over, an all too familiar voice sounded in her left ear.

"Oh hello there, old friend. Lovely breeze out today."

Before her stood Riza Hawkeye herself, looking utterly unruffled as several ladies fainted behind her.


Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Sep-11-2015 12:07

It was so awkward standing with Joseph in that cramped space. At least it was dark, so he couldn't see that her eyes were still red-rimmed from the previous day. Her temples throbbed. And she had to endure the inane drivel Vulkie was sprouting at the Ambassador in a decidedly unbecoming manner. Twit. This was not how Riza had imagined her day.

Suddenly Joseph turned his head and gave Riza a look; it was not one of contrition but of warning. What was it? Riza didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Then suddenly she caught a whiff of a familiar scent. Gasoline!

Before she could alert Joseph, a female voice (or was it male?) rang out from the other side of the cabinet. “You can pretend as much as you like; it’s not going to change your fate, Kerr.”

Riza leapt out of the cabinet with Joseph, dagger at the ready. Joseph cocked his gun and yelled for backup. Ed charged into the room with the British Royal Guards in tow.

As Jack taunted the men to shoot, Riza narrowed her eyes. So that was his game. “He wouldn’t fire,” Riza announced. “He's filled the room with gasoline.” She watched Jack's face fall slightly.

In an undertone just loud enough for Joseph to hear, she added, "But guns fired outside of this room shouldn't be a problem." Joseph gave a barely perceptible nod. That little fact would help considerably if things got bad.

Riza clutched her dagger and assumed a stance. Did Jack really think bullets could outmatch the speed of her knife-throwing? If it came to it, he would be dead before his finger could pull the trigger.

A number of things happened very quickly. Ed was taken down. The guards charged from behind and attacked Joseph. A rain of gunfire shattered the windows, spraying bits of glass everywhere. Fuck! They had been betrayed.

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Sep-11-2015 12:07

Riza was pushing the limit of her abilities in trying to dodge the bullets while fending off the rifles' bayonets. It had been ages since she had moved like this. She ducked and spun, flinging knives in every direction like some sort of madwoman. With every soft thud, satisfaction coursed through her. The air was filled with the glint of shimmering steel, which would have been beautiful had it not been deadly.

At one point, she noticed Vulkie down on the ground, unmoving. "You better be dead, Vulkie! This is no time for a nap!" Riza threw one of her knives backwards so the handle bonked her on the head. Still she did not stir. "Dammit, woman," Riza cursed.

“No pressure,” Riza murmured to herself. “Only have to save everyone and not get killed. No pressure at all.”

Parrying attacks, Riza slowly tried to make her way across the room. She had to get to Joseph. The man was utterly useless without his gun. She slashed throats left and right, jumping out of the way to avoid getting blood on herself. With a grunt and a mighty thrust, she jammed one of her daggers up through a man's jaw. It made a sickening crunch. A surge of red pooled out of his mouth before he fell.

Riza did a quick calculation. This wasn’t good. She would have to wrap things up fast. Her knife supply was running dangerously low.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Joseph struggling with Jack near the window. Joseph wrenched something off the other man's neck and screamed. Then his body went limp and he fell to the ground.

"Joseph!" Riza screamed. She watched Jack bolt back into the embassy, but she was too preoccupied to do anything about it. In a fit of fury, she jammed her final two daggers straight into the hearts of the last two Sphinx men. They crumpled onto the ground.

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Sep-11-2015 12:07

Riza exhaled, suppressing a shudder. She hated the feeling of lingering death. For a second she was split. Should she chase after Jack or go help Joseph? Her heart tugged her one way. Riza darted over to Joseph and bent over him, concern etched on her face. Was he alive? He seemed to be breathing.

When his eyes began to open, Riza let a smile slip out of relief.

As Riza explained and recounted what had happened, she picked an amulet off the ground and rubbed her thumb over the blue ruby in the center. It was warm to the touch. She didn't understand what Joseph was going on about. Visions? Perhaps his brain was addled from the fight or from passing out.

Before she could say anything else, Ed interrupted, saying they had to get Kerr to the hospital. Riza glanced over and noticed that blood was running down one of the ambassador’s legs.

Just then, there came an ear-shattering BOOM which rocked the very earth.

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Sep-11-2015 18:42

The little house filled with people and emptied of them just as quickly, Molly thought as she watched everyone leave with interest. As though the doors were revolving, Jasper, Marc, Arielle all departed, and presently Marc and Arielle returned with a completely different individual in tow. Quick as a wink, everyone had suited up and disappeared, leaving Arielle, Molly and the unknown young man standing in the kitchen.

Molly briefly wondered if she ought to have said something romantic and touching to Ed as she left, but then again she found such exchanges passe. Although she was interested in the man and he HAD seen her practically naked, she still wasn't going to stand on her head and recite poetry for him. If he died he died, she thought grandly. As the French say, c'est la vie.

"And who are you?" Speaking of French people, she had heard Arielle give a whispered aside to the boy, naming him as Phillipe. Although she had been gazing around the room in curiosity as everyone made plans and departed in a fluff, she had noticed that the Frenchman's eyes drifted to her quite a bit.

As she spoke to him, he stiffened and the hint of a blush swept over his cheeks though he kept his chin square as he met her eyes.

"Forgive me for being rude, I am Louis-Phillipe Messellier, though those who know me call me-"

"Phillipe." Molly finished, rolling the name over her tongue experimentally. He nodded, casting down his eyes briefly. Arielle watched him with both eyebrows raised, a look halfway between shock and amusement touching her otherwise serious features. "And tell me, what is your connection to this circus, Phillipe?"

"Well, I'm here to see that Elle--" Phillipe began, but already bored with the exchange, Arielle cut in.

"Phillipe is sworn to me and will be assisting me moving forward. There are several tasks I need my father, Phillippe and my mothers friends to complete." she said somewhat dismissively. "I'm sure we don't want to bother you, Ms. Maltese...

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Sep-11-2015 18:56

"... so of course we will leave you be and Philippe and I will entertain ourselves until Father and the rest finish with their escapade." Arielle said in a tone that conveyed no room for argument. Molly gave the most imperceptible of Mona Lisa Smiles at Arielle and tilted her chin.

"You will most certainly not. I have been charged ever-so-grandly by your dear popsy to keep you company and company I shall keep you. I'm feeling festive, and I think we shall go window-shopping downtown and then dine at a truly marvelous restaurant I've heard about clear in New York. They say that the chef is a master and reservations are quite exclusive... but then again I never worry about that sort of thing."

Molly flapped a hand dismissively. "I do declare that I've been pent up and pushed around with slackjawed idiots falling off trains, shooting at things, getting in car chases, being stabbed, people exploding unexpectedly and a queer central theme of genitals, and someone is going to come with me and have a good time or else I shall be VERY displeased. Philippe your shirt is dreadful and so I shall find you another."

So saying, she moseyed off in the direction of Marc's room, humming a little tune to herself. Philippe and Arielle looked after her mutely, then at each other.

"Well, I suppose I can look for shurikens downtown. There must be back alleys." Arielle said doubtfully.

"I did not hear much about this one." Philippe admitted. "She seems somewhat bossy."

Arielle considered this. "I suppose I never heard too terribly much about her from Mother, just the basics. She's a socialite I think. Also her husband, or ex-husband- no one can ever keep track- is the kingpin in a radical criminal organization and has tried to murder her and steal all her money on many occasions."

"I'm certain he's an ex husband a the moment." Molly said kindly, and the pair jumped and turned to see her standing behind them, holding a serviceable white button-down shirt that must have come

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Sep-11-2015 19:02

from Marc's closet. "Though I can barely keep track myself. Ex husbands are nuisances, Arielle. Please don't make a habit of collecting them."

She pressed the shirt into Philippe's hands and hitched her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. He complied wordlessly, slipping past the two women to go change. As he went, Molly turned a critical eye on Arielle.

"Whatever happens to be troubling you can certainly wait until tomorrow- in fact I demand it." she tilted her chin again. "I propose that we do your hair and a little makeup and find the largest department store in town. I feel I need a new ensemble to dine in this restaurant and you should have a pretty new dress as well."

Arielle raised her eyebrows. "If you insist." she said in a voice devoid of emotion. "Philippe and I are at your disposal."

But secretly, she felt a thrill. Though she had many things weighing on her young mind, and knew that she couldn't afford to slip up and fail to help her mother, Arielle was of course a fourteen year old girl. A new dress and a night on the town, and even makeup- it seemed like the perfect night in another girls life- a carefree girl.

Chuckling in an all-knowing sort of way, Molly steered Arielle towards her bedroom and center of all glamorous operations. "It is going to be a night to remember!" Molly said cheerily, and meant it.

The Cloaked Figure
The Cloaked Figure

Sep-12-2015 01:23

“So they’re bound for London?” Archibald Kerr asked, still in disbelief over the sight in front of him.

“Yes,” the figure responded, “and the doctor you provided will be invaluable in ensuring the woman’s survival until they arrive there.”

“My personal physician,” Kerr replied, “and the least I can do after the assistance you rendered to my secretary. Visas, asylum for the family, a physician, and the cost of the boy’s treatment; is there anything else that the crown can do for you?”

The figure chuckled, “No, I don’t suppose there would be. Though, I must give you credit for that broadcast you put out in an attempt to track me down. The tale of the phantom has become quite a legend around the city.”

“Whom do you serve?” Kerr demanded, “According to the diplomatic cables that have come through, you’ve stopped countless crimes, protected victims, attacked perpetrators, and taken quite a few lives in the process. As far as I can tell, I’m the first man to actually get a meeting with you. Now those with a voice may delight in speaking of the phantom who has been keeping the street clean, but those in power would sooner see you swing. I’m offering you asylum, a salary, and the full protection of this office to come work for me.”

The figure began walking towards the door, “I owe allegiance to no man and I serve only myself,” it responded plainly, “I am without a country, without a master.” Then, stopping before it exited, “Somehow, I think that the legend of the hooded phantom would lose its effectiveness were it to sit behind a desk and operate under the control of the British government.”

The Cloaked Figure
The Cloaked Figure

Sep-12-2015 01:23

The figure sat atop a stone gargoyle across from the embassy. It placed a flute to its mouth and began to play. The sun was beginning its descent, and the world was beautiful for once. Soon the sun would set and the world would become dark. Then it would be time for the phantom to rise, to protect the streets from the malfeasance that had spread everywhere.

Crack! Ping!

Gunshots! In an instant the figure had leaped up. Snipers! Where were they aiming? The ambassador’s window!

The figure leaped to an awning, and pulled itself to an adjacent rooftop. There, three rooftops away. It broke into a run, unseen by the man crouching with the gun. Then came the edge and a leap! Two rooftops away! A longer jump! One rooftop away. Jump! Grab the wire, swing around, 200 feet, 100 feet, 50 feet! Boom! The sniper collapsed forward and tumbled off the building! Damn! Good shot!

The figure could see that the scene was chaos in the Ambassador’s office, people were dying. Good people? Bad people? Hard to tell from this angle.

The figure noticed the sturdy wire running between the embassy and the location where it currently stood. It let out a sigh, “Suppose you don’t get to be a mythical figure without doing something crazy every now and then…” The figure lifted its walking stick over the wire, firmly gripped a hand on either side, and jumped.
Instantly it felt itself being hurled towards the embassy, hundreds of feet above the ground, if it let go it would surely be done for. On the other hand, for anyone on the street, this would surely spread the legend even further.

As the embassy grew larger, the figure braced itself, one shot! Just one shot! It leaped at just the right moment and landed on the balcony rolling. No time to think! It burst through the door and slammed its staff into the head of the nearest guard.

“The phantom!” he heard a man’s voice shout, “It’s real!”

The Cloaked Figure
The Cloaked Figure

Sep-12-2015 01:24

Just then, the figure caught sight of a light haired man raising a knife. No! The figure rushed him swinging its staff, too late. The shot was deflected from the woman’s heart but planted firmly in her side.

“You!” the man shouted, “Oh, so you’re the one that’s been killing my men! Making them afraid to go and complete their assignments. I am going to enjoy watching you bleed like the pitiful mortal you are!”

The man drew a knife from his sleeve and slashed catching the figure in the arm. It felt warm liquid begin to pour down.

“Aha!” he shouted, “Just a human being! Nothing supernatural at all!”

The figure winced in pain. Curse him! How could this happen! It rushed towards him, taking hold of his knife arm and attempting to twist it. The figure felt a piercing pain in its knee, the man sadistically smiled as he twisted another knife into the figure’s leg.

“Did you know I’m ambidextrous?” the man cackled, “One of the reasons Sphinx wanted me so badly!”

The figure twisted its neck and headbutted the man, breaking his nose. He jumped back in surprise, blood pouring down his face.

That opening was all the time the figure needed. With every ounce of strength it had, it swung its staff hard into the side of his mouth, knocking out several teeth and flooring the man. The figure bent down, pulled the knife out of its leg, and for good measure, stabbed it into the man’s arm pinning it to the ground.

The figure surveyed the scene, four guards dead, the ambassador and the would be assassin severely wounded, and the detectives much worse for wear.

“Don’t move!” shouted Joseph Zeo, “We’re not done with you yet!” He turned to attend to a companion.

The figure slowly moved towards the balcony, and noticed the girl, the one it had saved bleeding there. She wasn’t long for this world.

The figure gently picked her up, pulled a rope ladder from under its cloak, attached it to the balcony, and disappeared into the night.

The Cloaked Figure
The Cloaked Figure

Sep-12-2015 01:25

The figure gently laid the girl into her bed. The surgeon at the French embassy had really done an incredible job. She would be in pain for a long time, but she would live.

“I’m so sorry Molly, but she didn’t make it,” a woman’s voice said, “we didn’t have time to save her.”

“What do you mean?” another demanded, “No! No! No! The last thing I said to her… no! She can’t be gone. This isn’t how this ends!”

“She gave her life to save the ambassador,” the first replied choking back tears, “and she knew that you didn’t hate her!”

The figure crept back towards the window it had entered. Too much emotion in this home, and it didn’t want to be here when the amazing resurrected girl was discovered.

It had one foot on the ledge when a woman’s voice interrupted, “Hey!”

The door to the room had been opened, and there stood Molly Maltese, not at all the paragon of perfection and class that she represented in public. No this was a broken woman, hair disheveled, makeup running, tears staining her face. This was a Molly that few had seen.

“So you’re real,” she began, somewhat cautiously, “You’re not just something I’ve invented in my mind. Look, I understand if you need to go, but you’ve saved our lives countless times since we’ve been here, you’ve created this mythical phantom that criminals fear, and you do it all without a face. Just tell me why? Then you can go. I promise I won’t tell anyone that I saw you.”

The figure stared at Molly for what seemed like days. Looking like this, she couldn’t have been more vulnerable, more open, more naked if she hadn’t had a stitch on in the middle of the street.

The figure lowered its foot from the window frame, took a seat on the hope chest, and began to speak.

  <<First Page  |  <Previous Next>  |  Last Page>>  

[ You must login to reply ]