Unexpected Guest [Closed]
[Image: L9971JI.png]
Ren made due with what she got. She always had. For instance, at this point in her life, she wasn't technically homeless anymore. Technically. Perhaps. She was in the sense she didn't officially live anywhere, but she spent every night with a roof over her head. An old abandoned church that she shared with a gargoyle, sort of. She even paid rent. In the form of repairs, covering up murders, and fucking. Which, actually, was how she was used to paying rent.

Unfortunately, it was still an old abandoned church. She'd figured out how to do some things, lugging gallons of water back and forth, figuring out how to safely steal water from a nearby fire hydrant, storing things in an old metal chest she'd been given. Laundry on a washboard. It was nice. Homey. Old school.

But of course, she didn't have any way of getting electricity.

The darkness didn't bother her. The heat did, though, especially during the day. And she kept losing perishable food. So she looked for... other options. And found a great one! Jean had tipped her off to an apartment he knew for a fact was empty, and she was great at picking locks. So for weeks now, she'd been spending a lot of her days enjoying the glory of modern air conditioning. She'd raided the fridge for anything still edible, then cleaned it out and began filling it with glorious perishables. It was the best. She hoped the owner never came back.

She was there now, reclining cheerfully on the couch, legs up on one of the arm rest, reading "The Butterfly of Desire." She'd found it on the apartment's bookshelf. It had a remarkably shirtless man on the front. She was enjoying life... until she heard something at 'her' front door. A hand on a doorknob, turning, then pausing. She bolted immediately, book soaring in an arc through the air and landing open on the floor as she scampered on all fours, off the couch and into the bedroom to hide under the bed.
Julianna had never expected to find herself back in Valesport. She had just assumed that it was going to be a chapter of her life that she didn’t look back on. The few years she had spent in the city weren’t exactly some of her most shining moments. Lots of drinking and smoking and too much time in a bookstore with a catty immortal and his collection of misfits. She ignored the fact that she’d also been one of those misfits.

At some point she’d remembered she’d had an apartment in this city. Despite her wealth, Julianna paid attention to her bills and it didn’t take her long to notice a spike in the electricity at the apartment. She’d talked Owen into and investigative getaway. It wasn’t exactly scenic or romantic, and it would likely be uneventful, but if nothing else, she’d be able to collect some things she had left behind.

Owen was still coming down the hall when Julianna stopped in front of the door to her unit. He still wasn’t particularly enthused about the trip and was trailing behind her somewhat. Interestingly, Owen had been the one to teach her to recognize the signs of a break in; such as the subtle scratches of a lock pick around her deadbolt. She leaned closer to the door and listened for any sounds within, ears twitching on top of her head. Standing upright, her tail dropped to the floor. Quick waves of her hand beckoned Owen over to her eagerly. She knew her protective husband would not be pleased if she just waltzed into an unknown situation.

When he was close enough she silently pointed the markings out to him.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
Owen meandered slowly behind Julianna. This was a chore that was entirely unnecessary. They could have literally hired anyone to check on her apartment, or pack her things. Why they needed to do it was beyond him. But there he was appeasing his wife, as usual.

She beckoned to him somewhat urgently so he picked up his pace as a slight worry set in. As soon as he examined the lock, Owen had the same impression as Julianna: classic B&E.

“Stand back, stay behind me.” He pushed in front of her and reached into his CAF bomber jacket. Owen wore it ironically now. Almost an invitation for the CAF to approach him. Or a reproach to his past. Or a self-deprecating joke. There were many complex reasons why he wore the damn thing still and why he chose to wear it on a trip to the United States.

From somewhere within or under the jacket he had drawn a handgun. Owen wasn’t even sure if Julianna knew he was carrying, but he almost always was. His paranoia before his death had been pretty heavy and afterwards it was kind of out of control.

Owen took the keys from Julianna and unlocked the door. He left the set swinging from the lock as he slowly pushed the door open and sidled inside like an FBI agent on a raid. His gun was held firm and he swept the entryway and living room using his military training once again. Owen crept through the house the same way clearing each room.

The bedroom and bathroom were last. There. The blanket on the bed had been flipped upwards as if a rush of air had pushed at it.

“Come out with your hands where I can see them.” He instructed whoever was under the bed.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
Ren listened carefully, trying to breathe as slowly and quietly as possible despite her racing heart. She was pretty far off the ground. There wasn't a fire escape by the window, if she tried climbing out it, it would be too much of a climb even for her. And moreover that window was in the living room. She'd run into the bedroom. Her only real way out was through the front door.

She was beginning to see the downside of apartment living.

She heard footsteps, slow and steady and very, very quiet. Finally, she saw them, heavy boots in the doorway. She held her breath and could almost feel every rat in the apartment do the same.

"Come out with your hands where I can see them." The voice was a man's, which was very unfortunate. The phrase was ominous, as if he expected her to be armed. Unfortunately, she was armed with nothing more than a rat, and a few more nervously hanging out in the kitchen cupboard she'd declared the 'rat cupboard' to avoid any unfortunate cross-contamination.

He definitely knew she was in the bedroom somewhere. It was inevitable he'd check under the bed. She said nothing, and he took two slow, even steps further into the room. Right towards the bed. He almost certainly already knew she was here. She quietly pushed her way back away from the door, deciding to come up on the far side of the bed; it just seemed safer. She could come out, with her hands up, get a feel for what kind of homeowner she was dealing with here, and then make a break for it when--shit he had a gun!

She had no more raised her head over the corner of the bed when she saw it, poised right at her. The last time she'd seen a gun, it had been shooting at her, a lot; this had to be another one of the fucking traffickers! In an utter panic, she tossed what she always tossed in these situations--the rat in her hand. She'd been hoping to save him for an emergency, but "gun aimed directly at her face" definitely qualified. The rat flew through the air in a high arc--if the man didn't move, it would probably land right on him. At the same time, she threw herself to the side, hoping that if he was distracted enough by the rat, she could scramble by him and escape into the night, un-shot and un-trafficked.
Tail curling towards her spine, the fur bristled as Julianna’s ears rose to stout attention. She opened her mouth as if to demand to know why her husband had a gun on him. Especially on a simple trip to pack her apartment of all places. Yet, it did not seem like the time to question the choice, since he was already brandishing the weapon and pushing inside the apartment.

Julianna was hesitant to follow him. She was almost entirely sure that she should not given the potential danger of the situation. She crossed the threshold and closed the front door, to at least make it that much harder for any potential intruder to escape.

Ears twitched as Owen’s voice sounded off in the bedroom. Was there someone in there?
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
Owen stared at the frightened face of a person who popped up from under the bed. He didn’t have much time to process anything before a black object was chucked at him and the suspect made a dive towards the middle of the room. Owen clenched his jaw as the object flew towards him tracking it out of the corner of his eye. What was it?

His main focus remained on the target as he suspected whatever it the object would turn out to be was a distraction tactic. It collided with his arm. A squishy sort of collision. Followed by a desperate grasping and scratching as whatever it was tried to steady itself on him rather than take a tumble to the ground.

It was reactionary when he squeezed the trigger and fired towards the suspect. Luckily his gun was trained towards the lower half of the body scrambling away and not the upper half. The shot rang out in the small space of the room. The explosive sound was familiar to him but still left his ears ringing.

The force of the shot was contained easily in well trained muscles but the rat dropped off of him in fear, likely, of the sound of the weapon.

“Shit!” He said as he kicked at the creature to get it away from his feet. “Did you throw a rat at me! Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shouted to the person he had just shot. “Stay where you are!” Though he had already wounded the person, he kept the gun leveled on them as he crept closer to check them for weapons. He knew better than to underestimate any adversary. Even a small lady with a gunshot wound to the leg. Plus he didn’t know if he was dealing with some kind of drugged out psychopath. Who the fuck throws rats at people? Clearly someone on some powerful shit.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
Either he'd been expecting it, or she just wasn't fast enough. Well, it had been a bad position from the start. She hadn't been looking at him when he fired, focused on trying to get out of the room as fast as possible. Then there was a noise like an explosion and an unbelievable pain in her leg. She dropped to the floor almost as a reaction, before she could even catch up to what was happening.

Her ears were ringing; the whole room felt like it was suddenly in a tilt-a-whirl. Her leg, fuck, her leg, that really goddamn hurt. She'd been shot in the leg before, but it had been a grazing shot. Whether this was the same person who'd shot her before, she didn't know, but he'd been a lot more fucking successful.

She was facedown on the ground, for a moment, unaware of having collapsed, not fully aware of anything except for "OW" and "AAH." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her rat and a foot and let out a pained whine, reaching out as if she could keep him from kicking or stomping it. Unnecessary, it was just unnecessary, why stomp the poor thing when he already had her down. Her fault, really, for throwing it in the first place.

"Don't-- hurt him--" she managed, but she wasn't even sure he heard her--she could barely hear herself, her ears were ringing--and he didn't like her moving towards him, that was for damn sure. She froze when he shouted at her to, sort of half-rolling so he could see her hands were empty--presumably, of any other rats. "Fuck jesus ow fine," she said, her voice coming out in a pained huff. "You guys are the worst traffickers ever, it has been literal months. What is it with you and shooting my goddamn leg. Is it the same leg? It is the same fucking leg, you asshole. One of these days I'm just going to lose that goddamn leg, if you keep shooting it, it's just gonna fuckin' fall off and then you're going to have to try and sell an anorexic bitch with no tits and one leg." She was just running at the mouth, really, only thirty percent aware of what she was even saying. Shock? Maybe shock. But mostly, that was just her reaction to being scared.


Forum Jump: