*Send a sexual scenario and my muse will tell you whether or not they’d be into it. Anon or not.*
Josie and Thera after a joint mission together and to celebrate the success of said mission (they were just relaxing at first with some drinks, but then conversation just happened to steer in another direction, this also presumes they’ve known each other for awhile/done a few jobs together).
//Unfortunately, even though Josie is very cute this isn’t going to happen, because Thera’s very definitely straight.
She’ll happily wingman Josie to find a partner for the night or alternatively pretend they’re together to drive off any unwanted prospects, but no, she wouldn’t be into actually bedding Josie herself at all.
Alastor stood at the other end of the roof, leaning against the door that lead back into the building. He had his eyes closed, listening to Josie as she sang. He’d heard her sing before, once, maybe twice. It was rare, and something she did for a purpose, the reason now, he could guess. But he wouldn’t say it aloud, even in company so sparse.
As her voice echoed into the darkness of the night, he listened out, hearing it’s faint reverberations down the streets and through the alleyways. He took a solemn sort of joy in knowing he was probably the only one to hear it in that form, a distant whisper of itself.
Then he heard the crunch of her boots against the roof heading back towards him and he opened his eyes. Quietly he raised an arm, placing it between her and the doorway, baring her access. The look he gave her was one equally as rare as her song, a sense of pure concern, and a frown that seemed to exemplify show the tiredness in his eyes, their intense glow seemingly dulled despite the darkness of the night.
“Josie...” He spoke her name, then left it to hang, his eyes wandering from hers, away towards the night sky. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
column A. Was going to see if the Airwolf would be up to applying some magic to this new Harley Swiftail Slim.”
She ran a gloved hand over the fuel tank, patting it. “Big engine too, just begging to be tricked out.”
There was a fair bit of snickering and a long heavy pause as everyone who had been gathering around turned to look at Alastor who raised an eyebrow at the crowd. “Look, Ya’ll know that the jokes aren’t funny if you know they’re comin’.” There were a few muttered words and several displeased faces which caused him to sigh and roll his eyes, “Fine. Ya know Josie if you wanted something big and powerful twixt your legs you coulda just asked nicely.”
That seemed to satisfy the onlookers, and Alastor simply plopped his hands in his pockets. “On a more serious note, Lupin should be back in a few, made her take a lunch break. She’d been up and in here before the crack of dawn, woman gets on a project she get’s on it. Can’t say she’ll turn you down on this one, might look up some of the mods they made to Cap’s bike, both old and new. Plus a few more tricks. Gun mounts never hurt.”
The Following takes place roughly 72 to 96 hours following the Fall of SHIELD.
Paranoia at times pays off. You spend your young adult life fearing for yours, generating aliases, keeping your truck, your RV, your license, your apartment, all under false names, lies to cover lies, because the truth could see you killed by a lynch mob, or pulled into a black van by the Government. Only to ironically join that government you feared.
But paranoia pays off, when the large, multinational spy organization in which you belong falls from a cancer, its secrets dropped on the internet and you, thankfully you, are just a series of numbers and off hand references. Agent EX, neither Zingari, nor Executioner, nor MacKenzie long dead, just a codename among a list of codenames wiped and transfered before the datadrop. Not even he knew who set up that system, but he thanked them. Paranoia however doesn’t save you from having home and livelihood destroyed.
SHIELD was gone, so far as he knew. Alastor’s bank accounts were well stocked, but it would do him little good without a means to maintain them. Any government agency might be able to piece together who he was, and that would end bad for him. He had no references, no legitimate claim to skill a man his age would need to enter the work force.
But Alastor did have one hope. It resided in an apartment building, Manhattan, not the most expensive apartments, but well off enough. He had a place here, hadn’t used it in years but the bills were paid up, the utilities covered, and the name false. But he did not stand in front of his own door, but that of another. He had a key, or one that used to work, but he would never use it. Instead he knocked. He’d seen her car, knew she was ‘home’, and he hoped, he soon would be too.
Alastor walked into the apartment complex with no issue, he kept suits like this for a reason, nobody bothered to stop you. Even in a middle to low income apartment a man dressed in a suit had reason to be there. He was a lawyer delivering a summons, he was a debt collector after an unpaid loan. A suit like his was avoided, because it meant power, it meant status, and while that power and status was hated, it was avoided.
He stepped into the elevator, and the other person inside slinked against the wall, they very quickly hit the second floor button, the eighth floor had already been highlighted. Alastor reached out, intentionally slowly, and tapped the ninth floor key. The other person mumbled something about maintenance closing the floor off. Alastor glanced in their direction, curious, but they avoided eye contact, and quickly shuffled out of the lift as soon as the doors opened on the second floor.
Once he was alone he reached into his suit jacket, pulled out his pistol, and screwed the silencer on, making sure it was secure before putting it back. Just in time for the door to open at the sixth floor. Two men, dressed in baggy overalls, blaring the Roxxon Waste Management logo on their shoulders stepped in. “The fuck was I supposed to know the nine was upside down?” One exclaimed as they stepped inside. He looked at Alastor and scoffed, “Fuck you looking at suit?”
Alastor simply smiled and reached out as the door shut behind them and held down the Call Cancel button, before tapping Basement. “The fuck you think you…” The foul mouthed sanitation worker, suddenly found himself unable to speak with Alastor’s gloved hand around his throat.
“Gentlemen,” Alastor straightened up and shifted the man’s weight so he came between Alastor and his partner, Alastor’s freehand loosening his tie. “Ms. Erickson* would like you to know that she is alive and well.” The man clawed at Alastor’s hand and made a noise that sounded very much like a struggle to drop the F-bomb again. “Indeed, and I would like to inform you, that you done goofed.”
Before the man’s partner could get around, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Liquid fast, a hand darted in, grabbed the man’s partner and pulled him away with a choked cry. The worker in Alastor’s hand continued to claw at his arm when he suddenly froze at the unmistakable sound of a pistol cocking in his ear. "Good. You're not entirely stupid. Now behave yourself while my associate explains things to you two.” Josie’s conversational voice filled the silence, before the sound of her booted feet tapped on the concrete towards the distant blubbering moans of the other. “Oh quit your crying. You aren’t dead yet.”
“See,” Alastor held on to the man as he slowly exited the elevator, dragging him along. “You two, and your employers, made the very bad decision of trying to knock over one of our cherished assets. And that’s just bad business.” Almost casually Alastor tossed the man into a pile of laundry settled on the basement floor. “The important question is, why did you make such a bad business decision?”
“Bitch was looking into matters she shouldn’t have!” The second man started, and Alastor glanced in his direction which quickly shut him up.
“I’d be more careful about the pronouns you decide to use today.”
Josie lowered herself down, the .45 held casually in her hand as she gave the second man a stony stare. “Very. Careful.”
“She was snoopin’ alright?!” This was the first man again, who seemed to finally catch his breath. “Looking into Roxxon is no go, big no go. Doesn’t matter who hired who.”
“Ah, so you knew she was a third party and went after her and not her employers, how very big of you attacking a small defenseless woman and drugging her up rather than standing up to something bigger.” Alastor took a step forward and the man slinked further into the laundry to get away, “You’re so very, pathetic.”
“They are scum. What do you expect?” Josie commented, straightening up and adjusting her slacks and blouse with a free hand. When the second man made as if to angrily retort, she pointed the gun at him with unwavering accuracy. “It’s not your turn to speak. When he gets to you, then you get to speak.”
“Ya don’t fuckin scare me…” The man hissed under his breath.
Alastor stepped over to the man, grabbed his ankle and effortlessly lifted him up, pressing the end of his suppressed pistol against the inseam of his pants. “Do I fucking scare you now Mr. Dumbass?” Alastor squeezed, more than strong enough to leave bruises, “Because I assure you, you will be, and that won’t be enough.”
“Be glad you’re not Russian.” Josie threw out dryly. “The last one he ran into he ripped apart with his bare hands. Not exaggerating either.” She uncocked and then pocketed her pistol as she approached, looking into the man’s eyes. “Also, you really should watch your language. We’re trying very hard to be civil right now, and you’re pushing that boundary a little far. So, be a little courteous, and, if you do, I may be nice and not harm you.”
The man gave both of them a wide eyed stare, before finally giving a rapid series of nods.
“See, that’s not so hard.” Josie turned to the one sitting in the laundry. “Shall we return to the first interview?” She threw offhandedly to Alastor.
“Indeed,” Alastor let the man fall down to the floor before taking a few steps back to block the door. “See we could have killed you, and unlike you we wouldn’t have to fake a drug overdose. They just won’t find you.” He leaned back against the closed doors, “Who issued the order to kill?”
“I can’t tell ya that!” The man replied instantly. “They find out, I’m a dead man for sure!”
“You’re probably going to be a dead man if you don’t tell us.” Josie replied. She paused, and then looked at him. “What’s your name?”
“What?”
“Your name. Don’t need the full thing, just give a name.”
The man looked between the two of them, and then finally ground out, “It’s Thomas.”
“Alright. Tom. Mind if I call you that?” The man shook his head negative. “Well Tom. You have had a direct hand in harming one of our assets. So.” She kneeled near him, staring intently, even as she gave him a false smile. “You need to give us something to make up the debt you’re suddenly in.”
She stood back up and started to move away. “I’m waiting.”
Tom looked at his partner, who shook his head quickly, before he looked between Alastor and Josie. Finally, he blurted out, “It came from up high. Boss told us to make her go away, said that it came from the top!”
“Why is it always ‘the top’?” Alastor sighed, “I’m getting really tired of having of having to put CEOs and Executives in their place by reminding them that money doesn’t stop bullets.”
“The nature of those in power who have let it get to their heads.” Josie shrugged. “And for all we know, it’s true. In this town, the mafia is probably running things for Roxxon.”
“Yea, and now you know how much shit you’re in for messing with us!” Tom’s partner sneered with empty bravado as he brought himself up into a seated position.
Josie pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “You know, I’m getting very tired of the lack of civility.” She looked to Alastor with a dramatic sigh. “He seems to think we’re worried about mafioso.”
Alastor leaned down and looked in the mans direction, “You’re not one of Fisks. He has higher standards. You’re not Asian so you’re not Maggia and they’ve not been busy here, more oriented out west now.” Alastor snapped a finger, “I know. Vincente Fortunato.” Alastor looked up at Josie, “He broke off from the Maggia some time back, wanting to be their branch here in the east coast. Also so far as we know, had ties to HYDRA.” He looked back down at the two men, eyes narrowing. “You two Nazis?”
“Wha-fuc-er, hell no!” Tom instantly replied, while his partner snorted. “That Nazi crap is all bullshit anyways.”
Josie rubbed her chin. “Well, wouldn’t be the first time a mafia family owned a union controlled company. Though I wasn’t aware that Fortunato had taken over anything. Possible. But not conclusive.”
“True, cept one thing. Guy here’s rather defensive about the whole Nazi thing being BS.” Alastor tilted his head and smiled, “I’ve heard that before. Few times actually, which is why I now know this guy is working for Fortunato, and that he does have some times with HYDRA.”
The two men looked at each other, worry in their eyes as they try to look stoic. “See lads I should let you in on a bit of a secret.” He casually pointed his pistol at both of them in turn, “I was Clearance level eight.” The long drawn out ‘fuck’ that followed was almost priceless.
Josie smirked. “Yea. Ok. That is an appropriate response to what you just found out. Also...I’m not a fan of of HYDRA either. I sometimes even have to hunt them as part of my job as a ‘problem solver.’” Their faces paled more at the implication. She looked to Alastor, her tone becoming more serious. “This might have been a slap against us. Telling us to back off by using her body as the message carrier.”
“Yeah,” Sighing Alastor stood up, and thumbed the safety of his pistol on. “Which of course means we need to send a message back. Fortunately for you two, I made a promise I wasn’t going to kill anybody.” He watched the relief on the two men’s faces before he tossed his gun over towards Josie. “Unfortunately, she didn’t.”
She caught it smoothly and had the safety off and aimed at them instantly, their expressions shifting into terror. A single shot was fired, and Tom’s partner rocked back with a round in the heart. Tom shuffled backwards, gasping in horror as he looked to his dead partner and then back. “You said if we were civil you wouldn’t kill us!!”
“Actually, I said if you were courteous I may be nice and not harm you. Nothing about killing.” She corrected, taking a couple of steps forward. “However, there’s an ancient Mongolian proverb about messengers. You know what that was?”
Tom, completely out of his depth, rapidly shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “N-no! No I...please…”
“That proverb is that it only takes one to send a message.” She leaned forward, giving him a slight smile as she whispered. “Your lucky day. So, you get to be the messenger.” Straightening, she put the safety back on, and threw it back to Alastor. “Take your buddy, and go back to your bosses, and let them know that you lived only because she lived. Had she died, both of your bodies would have been delivered to the head office of Roxxon.”
Turning away, she shook her head in disappointment. “Children, never appreciating the classics.”
“Yeah well, if you saw half the stuff I read about Roxxon you’d know they don’t hire for intelligence.” Kneeling down Alastor picked up the single spent shell and pocketed it as he holstered his gun before stepping over the body and next to Josie. “We should leave our messenger to his job.” He glanced down at the one still alive, “We have calls to make.”
“Indeed.” She looked back to Tom. “Don’t forget a word of what I told you. It’s rude to mess up an important message.” Turning away, she walked briskly to the elevator, which opened for them without any delay.
When the doors had closed and was slowly moving back up, she sighed and smiled ruefully. “You know where I got the ‘ancient Mongolian proverb’ from?”
“I’m pretty sure it was a fortune cookie at a restaurant a few years back.” He adjusted his suit and sighed, “This is coming close to home. And we should consider contingencies.”
“I got it from Mulan actually. Disney classic.” She shrugged. “But yes. HYDRA may not know who she’s working for. They may be seeking her based on her past affiliation. That’d be enough for them, I would imagine. Still, you’re not wrong. We should consider contingencies. Especially for her.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “The trouble is, that usually doesn’t pay well. We can’t keep doing pro bono jobs, not as a company anyways.”
“She’s my responsibility,” He looked over at her, “I’ll cover at cost if necessary, but I know what you mean.” He put his hands in his pockets, and shook his head, “We made need to do for her what you did for me. There is no MacKenzie. He never existed. We may have to make it so Oriole Edens, is gone.”
She nodded. “Going to be tough. We don’t have access to whatever HYDRA has. So there’s going to be some things that we just can’t expunge. But if she’s willing, we should be able to get all the official government databases. She has to be willing though, and that might be the toughest part. I don’t envy you that discussion.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” The door opened and Alastor stepped out, moving towards the exit. “I’m going to head back to her. Make sure she’s ready for me to take her to see Lin.” Stepping outside he turned and faced her, “We’ll be at the House within the hour.”
Josie nodded, brushing off her jacket. “Lin will be ready.” With that, she began to walk briskly away from the building, posture relaxed.
Taking in a breath Alastor stepped up to the side of the curb and hailed a cab. He had a long day ahead of him, and the sun was already setting.
To the tune of "Jolene" (I like the Rhonda Vincent version, fight me):
Josie, Josie, Josie, Josie,
I'm begging of you, please, don't take my head
Josie, Josie, Josie, Josie,
Please don't kill me just because you can
Your murder is beyond compare
With all your guns and crazy hair
You have the speed to kill before I scream
Your punching is like a hurricane
You're good at causing searing pain
And I just can't defend from you, Josie
Josie, Josie, Josie, Josie,
I'm begging of you, please, don't take my head
Josie, Josie, Josie, Josie
Please don't kill me just because you can
I'm struggling on a personal level right now, and I need to make sure that I'm making the choices that will allow me to keep my head above water. Sometimes that does not include RPing. I will probably be inconsistent with replies for a while. I'll be okay. I just want to let people know.
And here are the finished colors for our resident sneak and master hacker, Dustine.
I really like how the blending turned out overall for this one. Could have been better in places, but the face turned out great, and most of the suit did too. I'm pleased with this.
