Midnight, Stars, and You - A Dieselpunk Love Ballad [Shiva the Cat x GrinningGentleman]

GrinningGentleman · Feb 17, 2020

Jacobs smile at his successful teasing, paused in a small frown, at the mention of the situation in Hospitals. Getting fired for drawing attention to things? For a second, Jacob had a thought, bringing up a little red-head, Molly had introduced him to. That is what Journalists do, right? Draw attention to things? He figured it was wishful thinking, setting the thought aside for now.
"Good survival instincts. Besides, you can better help people, with a job as a Nurse, than as an unemployed, silenced Whistleblower." He comforted, having noticed her sheepish smile, not wanting her to feel bad for thinking of herself first, for once. Nurse was such a selfless job, few would consider silence a selfish choice.

Jacob looked down to Rosie's paper, as she wrote down the names for him to follow up on. This was probably the most help he'd received, to assist his situation, than he'd gotten since he returned home. That, and maybe getting a job, however menial and underpaid it was. The thought was quickly replaced, by the fact that he hadn't felt as good as he had, together with Molly, for several years. She'd helped his condition too, just by being around. Gotten him down, without the need for the usual drugs he consumed to calm his nerves. She'd been his drug, in those moments. She remained the best thing to return home to.
"Thanks, Miss Kleinschmidt." He thanked her formally, picking up the piece of paper, making sure he could read the handwriting. He'd seen a lot of hastily scribbled notes, over the years in war, making her's easy to read, and he pocketed the note.

Her compliment about his knowledge made Jacob chuckle lightly, shrugging his shoulders a single time.
"I've dabbled." He mumbled lightly, letting her continue. As she went on about their idea of a dance, and further on to suggest it wasn't particularly 'Lady-like' to sell off a dance, he couldn't help but laugh a single time.
"You definitely aren't from the City." He predicted her coming answer, still a kind smile on his face, that statement clearly not meant as an offense. "I know women, who sell far more than a dance, act more sophisticated than an Aristocrat." He suggested, smirking slightly, as he shrugged his shoulders. "Your perception of a 'Lady', might be different than mine though, but still. As long as both parties are having fun, no one would judge a woman for offering a dance for a dime, especially for charity. In fact, a lot of people admire that sort of thing, around here. Which is. A little strange, considering how badly some people dispice a prostitute. Who, more often than not, end in their situation, out of desperation..." He realized he was the one to start babbling a bit there, raising a hand defensively. "But, that's more political talk, than I'd intended to end up in there. What I meant to say, I'm sure you're selling yourself short. Not all boys, want a 'Lady', stiff as a board, to dance with. Besides, a bit of tumbling, never hurt anyone." He suggested with a playful smirk, reaching up to itch his arm a bit, near the area where flesh met metal, hidden behind his sleeve.

Jacob raised a brow slightly, as she suggested all the women in NYC seemed 'sophisticated', pouting lightly as she suggested Molly. He nodded his head a few times, in agreement, looking down to the glove with a short frown, pulling it a bit closer to himself, to ensure he'd remember it. As he did, though, he pointed a finger up at her, from it, looking up with a smile.
"A lot of layers, to City-slickers. Might look the Movie Star on the outside, but peel away a few layers, and they're rotten to the core." He stated, playing a bit with Molly's glove. "Molly ain't, though. Even though I think she want some people to believe she is. Apparently, some people think that, being a rotten person, is a sign of strength..." His words was a bit more of a mumble, then, partially hoping Rosie wouldn't hear him entirely.

He was happy to hear her go on, smiling lightly at her reasons. His smile dimmed slightly, as she took her pause, and went on to describe a lost love. He frowned, having as many others did, forgotten that it wasn't just the ones put on the battlefield, who lost lives in war. Jacob grimaced slightly, at the mention of Ypres, lowering his gaze a bit. Grim business, that battle. Part of him wanted to put a hand on her's, for support, but he couldn't get himself to. Not just for the fact that it might seem inappropriate, but another nagging reason, he couldn't quite place.
"Sorry for your loss, Rosie." He mused lightly, a weak frown on his lips. "A lot of us tend to forget, that it wasn't just those on the field, who lost lives and livelihoods." He muttered, lowering his head a bit. He took the moment she allowed silence, grasping for words, and reason. There was none. What could a person say? Especially, when that person had completely lost faith, in what he, and the one Rosie lost, had fought for. One who believes, war was entirely meant for those who profited off of it. Someone like Rosie, didn't need to hear that. Needed to believe, her lover had died for a good cause.

Jacob looked back up, as Rosie finally continued, a weak smile on his lips, bringing some warmth into the discussion again. He chuckled lightly through his nose, nodding a few times.
"The York is definitely better off with you here, than without. You're a rare person, in these streets. Profession and personality, alike." He complimented with a nod. "I grew up here. Orphan, out of Umbridge. Place stank a lot less like Diesel back then, part of me wishing you could've seen it then. For a Country girl like you, I'm sure the stench of Diesel has tickled your nose ill, more than once?" He suggested, with a soft chuckle. "I guess it ain't too bad, if you've got a job. The big-hats just don't extend many hands, to help those who most needs it. Far more busy catering to the big companies, making them money." He suggested with a snort. "But, if your girls ever did decide to throw a Dance, NYC is definitely the place to do it. Plenty of hats, who like to make the world think they give a rats-ass about the poor, and crippled, and then snort at them as they pass them on the streets. But, if people like you, were to throw such a Charity drive? I'd actually trust, the money ended up in the right place." He mused, nodding a single time, with a smile.

Jacob looked thoughtful for a moment, looking down to Molly's glove, tilting his head a bit.
"Countryside girl, then? How much have you seen of the City? Went exploring yet?" He questioned, looking back up as his thumb played with one of the glove's fingers.

Shiva the Cat · Feb 18, 2020

"Oh no! I don't mean to be a priss about it," Rosie said quickly, blushing at the idea she was looking down on women less fortunate than herself. She might have only been in New York for six months, but she knew that there were women who..did things...for money. But how was someone supposed to eat without money? And even if they did it for fun, well, they weren't hurting anybody. "No, it's just that, well, being a nurse, there's a certain reputation you need to maintain. You know, like being a school teacher, or the minister's wife." She gave him a crooked little half smile. "It's not my business what other girls decide to, really it's not. But when I said "the girls" before, I was talking about other nurses, like me. If we get caught acting in a way the head nurse or the doctors don't like, we're out of a job. Why, I knew a girl who almost got canned because the head nurse saw her necking with her beau at the movies, and it was only thanks to the fact that he'd put a ring on her finger not two weeks earlier that the hospital agreed to keep her on. But she'll be quitting when she gets married next spring anyway, so it's no harm done I guess."

Still, it was obvious she was a bit flabbergasted at his talk, and had dropped her gaze into his coffee cup. She vaguely heard him muttering something about a "Molly"; the girl who'd dropped the glove, maybe? Glancing up, Rosie's heart fell a little as she saw the expression on Jacob's face. He definitely looked like he was carrying a torch for the sharp-dressed blonde, but it was a sad torch. Unrequited love, probably. They definitely didn't look like they belonged together. If the mysterious Molly wasn't a movie star, she had to be a model, or maybe one of those rich bohemian types that spent all their time and money on gin and cigarettes. But Jacob...well Jacob seemed like your average guy home from the war. A little lost maybe, probably with more scars on him than the eye could see, but a sweet guy, and when he did smile, Rosie felt a strange warmth inside her that she hadn't felt in a long time.

She was more than happy when he changed the subject to her loss. "It's all right," she assured him gently, reaching out to pat his hand. "Benji died a hero, just like he always wanted. They put his name on a plaque back home I guess, but I'm just glad that when he died he knew a whole lot of people loved him, yours truly included." Rosie blushed, then glanced around conspiratorially before reaching into the collar of her gown. She pulled out a thin chain, on the end of which was a small diamond ring. For a moment, she seemed to forget Jacob was even there as she looked at it, but quickly tucked it away before anyone else could see it, out of fear she might one day be robbed of her only real treasure. Once it was stowed, she continued on with a little more melancholy in her voice. "I've seen so many boys go without leaving anyone behind them, no mourners at all. That's what makes me saddest of all, so whenever I get a new patient I always try to get to know him real well. That way at least one person will remember him and miss him when he's gone. Every fella ought to have what Benji had, at least in my opinion."

Of course, no sooner had she said all of this than Jacob casually mentioned he was an orphan, causing the color to drain from Rosie's place completely. "Oh shoot! Oh Jacob I didn't mean anything bad by all of that. Gosh, I really put my foot in in this time, didn't I? Talking about families and loved ones and all that, I didn't mean anything by it, honest!" She sighed heavily. "You're right, I'm just a dumb country hick who doesn't know a single thing about city living. But I hope you won't think the less of me for it, Jacob, I really hope you won't. You seem like a such a nice man and I'd hate for you to think all of us country girls go around wagging our tongues like a bunch of clucking hens with no concern for anyone else's feelings. I'm the worst of them, I promise you, so please don't let my big mouth spoil your opinion of me too badly."

A sheepish grin crossed her face. "What I lack in tact I promise I can make up for in integrity. You're right, if we do hold a charity dance I intend to try my hardest to make sure everything works out. Even the head nurse seemed open to the idea, as long as there's appropriate chaperones and everything. I think a venue would probably be the hardest part as of right now though; not too many people want to go to a dance at a hospital, even if it wouldn't disturb the patients," Rosie laughed softly. "But we've been keeping an eye out for some community halls and things like that. Maye the Y or the VFW. We'll see what happens. As for exploring--"

The nurse shrugged lightly. "I work a lot of shifts, so I don't get out very much. Oh, but I love going to the park, and the library. And the Natural History Museum on its free days. Actually, any museum on a free day is great. Sometimes I trade shifts with Diane and Lucy--they're my roommates, they work at the hospital too--so they can go on their dates and I can just go sit in a museum, all by myself." She laughed again at this, but didn't seem particularly ashamed. "That's one thing I like better about New York than Weyauwega, there's a lot more to do during the day than just go to 4H meetings and climb in haylofts. Haylofts definitely smell better though."

Rosie shut her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, as if trying to will the scent into the diner. When she opened them, she let out another defeated little sigh. "Oh well, I'll go back sooner or later, I'm sure. You should go to Wisconsin sometime though, Jacob. It's nothing like this. Just farm fields and forests and big rolling hills, as far as the eye can see, with the biggest, bluest sky you've ever seen overhead. Unless it's winter, of course. Then it's just snow. Lots and lots of snow." She shivered at the mention of it, then pulled her coat a little more closely around her. Her eyes surreptitiously fell on the clock hanging over the counter of the diner, but despite the growing lateness of the hour, she just couldn't bring herself to get up and leave just yet.

"It's not getting late for you, is it?" she asked, inclining her head slightly towards the clock. "I wouldn't want to keep you away from your business with all of my yammering. If it's not too personal, can I ask what kind of work you're in? I'm always curious what vets get up to after they get home, if they aren't in the hospital of course."

GrinningGentleman · Feb 19, 2020

Jacob raised his brows in surprise, as Rosie apologized, taking a moment for him to realize, what she was even apologizing for. Realizing, caused him to curve a light smile at the edge of his lips, chuckling a single time as she explained herself.
"Sounds... Like a restrictive life. That, I could definitely not imagine." He mused, raising his brows with another chuckle. "You don't have to apologize, though, even if I thought you were being offensive, it isn't my place to be offended for them. Besides, the girls I am sure you'e thinking about, grow up to have thick skin. Everyone is quick to judge. The human condition. Even most of their clients, who take advantage of their services, look down upon them." He shortly explained, smile growing a little dimmer, before he shrugged it off, leaning forwards a bit, looking back to Rosie's eyes. "That you're so quick to defend yourself, however, tells someone like me something, though. That, even if I didn't believe you, which I might add, I definitely do... I find it hard to imagine, you've known a malicious thought in your life, that wasn't well deserved... But, even if I didn't? You wish you didn't. You want to be a good person. Which goes a long way, in a City where people think that personal success, equals greed. And power, equals cruelty." He explained, smiling warmly, as the subject went on, in their nice, little Dinner conversation.

Jacob was slowly coming to realize, how much he enjoyed this. He hadn't talked this much, with one person, in a long while. The girls at the Brothel rarely had much to say. Liam, didn't have much time. And Molly? With Molly, he was afraid to ask questions. Made conversation hard. Uneasy. Not to mention, it suggested she had something to hide. Perhaps it was just something she wasn't proud of, that she didn't want him to know? But that was just speculation and didn't make him any less uneasy about asking anything.

Jacob looked up with her reassurance, first to the gentle, warm hand that came padding at him. His eyes moved further up, emotions a little unclear, if a little melancholic for a moment before he nodded his head. He wished, desperately, he could believe that. Agree. That everyone who lost their lives in the war, died as Heroes? And not just in the engine of war-profiteering? Perhaps it was just hard to see all the good they did, from the blood he felt like he had to wash off his hands, every single morning. For all of the Widows, he'd made of women, and Orphans he'd made of children. The many scared and terrified eyes he'd seen, before plunging the bayonet, either on his rifle or up close with his hand.
He didn't mention this, however, just slowly nodded, before taking the subject onwards. He couldn't get himself to really agree vocally, instead just trying to make it seem, like a loss, in general, was a subject he dealt with poorly. That was the truth, after all. What could a War-Cynic say? It was all for naught? She didn't need that. She needed to believe in the cause her love had died for.
Jacob noticed the ring she'd pulled out, causing him to raise his brows for a moment, but quickly hide it before she let it down again, not wanting to seem like he was prying. Or, staring at the place she stored the ring, for that matter... How wealthy had this Benji been? He'd heard that there was a lot of Money in farmland, but... He'd never expect a country girl, with a ring like that.

Hearing her suddenly turn on a dime, when she realized he was an orphan, caused him to look surprised for a moment, once again. His lips curled a warm smile as she started explaining herself, as he slowly shook his head, trying to stop her. It was strange... Refreshing, even, to meet someone so desperate not to offend anyone. Maybe a little much, but... Jacob's thoughts had so rarely used that word, but 'cute' would definitely fit the current situation.
"R." He was about to start, as she continued, causing him to chuckle lightly, leaning forward, placing his significantly larger hand on top of her's, gently, giving it a squeeze. "Rosaline Kleinsmicht..." He used her formal name, to get her to pause, long enough for him to stop her explaining. "While, yes... I do think you like to 'cluck'." He teased, smirking lightly as his thumb gently tapped her hand, and he let go as he had her attention again, pointing to her with a finger as his hand rested back on the table. "But, you're not dumb. And as I already mentioned, definitely not malicious." He laughed lightly, narrowing his eyes a bit thoughtfully, a playful smirk on his lips. "I'd almost like to hear you try... Saying something mean? Honestly don't think you could offend me." He suggested, chuckling as he grinned.

"Hm. What kind of crowds, would you be looking to gather?" He questioned, moving on to the dance. "I know a few people, with places that could definitely gather a crowd, but it'd be mostly Rich hats, pretending to care? Also might know someone, who could get the word out about it?" He suggested, looking thoughtful for a moment. For a moment, he was actively surprised at himself. But, he really did know people. Both Liam, and Molly, had places that might be suited for that kind of Charity drive. And, if he could have a word with this column Journalist, Vera, she might be able to get the word out? Of course, then he'd have to talk to a Journalist, which he didn't quite like the thought of, but for something like this, he'd sacrifice some of his time, and risk it.

Hearing about her day, Jacob smiled lightly, but really felt a little sad to hear it. This woman clearly had so much to say, but no one to share that with, on her days off? Perhaps she just said enough, during her shifts, that she didn't feel like she needed it? Or... Her loss of Benji, hurt her more than she let off, and being alone was more of a self-destructive defense mechanism? It had been, for him, he knew that. Hiding himself away, rather than trying to seek out his old friends.
"That... Does sound pretty nice. Anything to get away from Diesel, for any length of time, would sound good though." He suggested, chuckling slightly, on the note of seeing the Country side. He'd seen plenty of it in Europe, but that was under far different circumstances, and he didn't go far, without seeing the damage of war. Wisconsin, would be something very different than that, and he'd definitely consider that a trip worth-while.

"As for Museums... Can't say I've attended many." He shrugged again, tilting his head as he looked down to the paper she wrote for him. "Sounds a bit. Lonely, though." He suggested, looking up with a careful smile. "Takes one, to know one." He suggested, moving on before she could disagree. "Doing anything after your shifts, this week? I'm... Not generally good at taking first steps. Realized that real early, when I got home." He shrugged a shoulder, raising the paper. "14 & 7? Isn't there a small Dinner around there? Real small. Cheap place too, simple? Urgh, what was its name?" He thought about it for a moment, looking out the window, as he tapped the paper on the table. "Russel's? It was run by this old guy, when I was a kid, who used to serve us Orphans some left-overs, on the last day of the month, if we 'asked nicely'. His name was definitely Mr. Russel." He agreed with himself, and a nod. "Always wondered, how their meals actually tasted fresh. Think it's pretty cheap, as well? Would you join me, and introduce me to this 'Mama Maria'? We could have a bite to eat at Russel's afterwards?" He suggested with a smile. He was enjoying her company. Immensely. And he knew, he'd have a hard time getting his ass into gear, and actually going to these places she'd suggested him. This way, he could start chipping at his loneliness, and maybe get some work done on his hand.

"Don't worry about the time, Miss. While I have the early shift tomorrow, I. I don't get much sleep, these days. Even if I try. Probably even less, when I do." He chuckled lightly, fingers stroking lightly at the table with her question. You'd never find a nice girl, working at a place like that. Not Molly's exact words, but it still resonated within him. A tiny part of him, wanted to pretend. To lie. The thought was quelled quickly. He didn't care, what others thought of him, just for his profession. That's where they were different. One of the areas, they were different.
"As I think a lot of Vets do... I work Security, - or, well, that's a fancy word, it's probably just more like Muscle, down at Madame Le'Fleur's Nook. Might not've heard of the place, it's a Brothel down around the Sixth." He explained, a smile across his face, showing no hesitation in his words. It wasn't so much that he was proud of his work, but he was actually fairly happy with it. "I mainly help the girls with heavy stuff, and removing 'Negative Equations'. Which is what Le'Fleur calls men, who steps out of line." He chuckled softly. Jacob nodded slowly a few times, pouting his lips with a shrug of his shoulder. "Actually enjoy it. A lot more than I thought I would. Guess it just. Feels good to be appreciated, sometimes. Might sound selfish, but. Think I've come to learn, that I like helping people. And working at a Factory, just doesn't give that same feeling, you know?" He suggested small smile on his lips.

Shiva the Cat · Feb 19, 2020

Rosie sighed a little and leaned back against the booth. "Honestly, Jacob, I think we'll take anyone willing to donate. Rich, poor, city, country, whoever. They'd just better be brave enough to withstand some scary old ladies who aren't going to let them get fresh with any of the girls, and be willing to pay for the privilege. There's also a matter of getting a band, but Diane's brother plays in a jazz outfit in one of the clubs up in Harlem and she thinks she could get them to play for free. Oh, but I shouldn't be troubling you with any of this. Your job is to just receive the benefits, not plan them." She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, then glanced out the window with a coquettish little gleam in her eyes. "But I'll be sure you get an invite whenever it comes together."

If the nurse thought she was being naughty and flirtatious with that little hint, she almost fell out of her seat when Jacob mentioned dinner. "I...dinner? You want me to join you?" Her eyes were so wide he might as well have asked her to the moon. It wasn't that Rosie thought she was unattractive, it was just that, well...she knew that compared to most of her friends she wasn't exactly the most exciting person to spend an evening with. But Jacob seemed so warm and sweet...was she actually thinking of accepting? "Well, I work a lot of evening shifts," Rosie began slowly, tugging on the frayed sleeve of her coat. Still, when she turned to look him directly in the eyes, she felt her heart beginning to beat a little faster. "But Lucy owes me a trade," she added quickly. "I'll need to ask her when we could manage it, but if she'll let me take one of her day shifts instead...I'd love to."

Blushing again, she pulled out her pad and pencil and quickly wrote down a telephone number and slid it across the table to him. "Could...could I get yours as well? I can call you later and let you know when I'm free."

Her cheeks were pink at the idea of actually going on her first date in years, but they darkened to absolute scarlet when Jacob mentioned his work. "You work...at a brothel?" For a moment, she almost regretted giving him her number, and was about to make some excuse about why she couldn't meet him later that week. What in the world would her friends back home think? What would her mother think? But listening to him speak about the job, Rosie's expression softened somewhat. Of course girls like that needed some kind of protection, their lives were hard enough without it. And granted, she'd just met the man, but Jacob didn't seem like the type to get intimate with women of that class. Her nurse's eye even took a quick glance at his features, looking for any sign of a disease he might have picked up from in a place like that. Not that it would have affected Rosie personally if he did. After all, she wasn't that kind of girl.

"I can understand that," she said finally, relaxing her posture somewhat and nodding with a small smile. "We shouldn't worry too much about who we help, as long as we're helping people who need it, right?" Rosie could think of more than a few men on the battlefield who might not have deserved to have their wounds stitched up, but she and hers had gone ahead and done it anyways. "I'm glad you enjoy your work, Jacob. That's a rare thing in life. But speaking of work..."

She couldn't stifle the yawn that passed her lips, and stretched her arms over her head, revealing more patches and tears in the worn fabric of her coat. "I worked a double shift today, and I'm absolutely exhausted. I really should be getting home, I've got another shift in the morning." Like a child reluctantly climbing out of bed on a cold morning, Rosie began to slide out of the booth and button up her coat. "It's been really nice chatting with you though, Jacob. I'll call you? If that's okay?" It seemed like such a forward thing to do, but then again it wasn't as if he could be calling her every day to see when she'd managed to free up her schedule. Diane and Lucy were always ringing boys for dates though, so why couldn't she?

Trying not to think of the propriety of the matter, Rosie reached her hand out to him, ready to shake and part as friends, even if part of her wished she could have sat with him all night.

GrinningGentleman · Feb 24, 2020

Jacob nodded slowly as Rosie continued about the Charity drive, looking thoughtful, as he considered his options. He wasn't sure he was in a good enough standing with Molly, that she'd ever consider hosting something like that, on his behalf. Not to mention, he wasn't sure she'd do so, without the prospect of earning a dime. To be honest, he wasn't sure Liam would, either. It started weighing a bit heavy on his heart, that two of his best friends, had become so foreign to him. Something they never had, when he knew them, suddenly meant so much to them.
Jacob's attention returned to Rosie, as she suggested he just needed to reap the benefit of such a drive, causing the man to chuckle lightly, raising a hand rather dismissively. He paused, however, seeing her gaze out the window, promising to extend him an invitation. His eyes narrowed for a moment at the young woman's expression, his lips curling a gentle little smile.
"And I'd jump at the opportunity." He started, smiling with a playful little smile, before raising his prosthetic hand. "But, I've already got my hand. If I can give a few others a chance to get theirs as well, I'd be happy to help. I'll look into it. Not like it'll take a lot of effort. Just don't get your hopes up. I... Don't know if I know my old friends, as well as I'd hoped." Jacob explained. At least, he'd try. It was more than most people did, these days.

Jacob's smile just grew, seeing the sweet country girl, grow so downright baffled at his suggestion. To him, it'd seemed such a simple thing. It was just dinner. He could take advantage of her time, to meet this mechanic, buy her a cheap dinner in return, and see if old Russel was still kicking.
"Yes." He said, matter-of-factly, nodding his head a single time. His voice was genuine and warm, and for a moment, he wished he'd hesitated a bit more on that. Was he getting her hopes up? Did he want to do that? All he was really looking for, was another friend, or acquaintance in town. Wasn't it? Her warm eyes might've won him over, as they met his, was he still abroad. But even as his mind wandered to his old feelings for Molly, Rosies eyes pierced through.

Jacob's smile seemed to brighten a little, as she agreed, looking through her pockets for a pen and paper. In that moment he realized another common commodity, he didn't exactly have access to. He smiled at her suggestion, nodding a single time.
"I don't exactly have one, personally. I'll be the easiest to reach on this one, during the day. The one at work. And this one, I might be available near, in the evenings." He suggested, writing down two numbers, after borrowing her pent. If she knew anything about phone-lines, the second one might be recognizable as a phone-booth. He wagged the pen a bit, tapping it against the top number. "Make sure that scary Head Nurse of yours, doesn't find out where this number leads, though..." He warned, smirking lightly as he took her number, folding it into his pocket, before stroking his towards her with the pen.

Her reaction to hearing his job, made Jacob smile a little wider, as he continued to explain. He hadn't really expected any different. While it was just as decent work, as the next, it did come with some judgment. He'd let her have hers. If it did scare her off from ever contacting him, so be it. It'd be a shame, sure, but he'd understand. She was clearly a lot more reserved than he was. But, maybe it was for the best if she couldn't look past the company he kept at work. He sure wasn't going to take hell, from a strange, for his line of work. He could barely take it from Molly.
Her small smile did soothe him a little. She didn't seem entirely scared off. And, he couldn't agree more with her statement, nodding with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I like to think so. It seems a rare opinion, these days, though." He added, shrugging just one shoulder, with a slight shake of his head, looking out the window for a moment.

He turned his attention back, just in time to see an attempt at hiding a jawn, causing him to chuckle slightly, sitting himself up.
"Oh, dear. Hope I haven't kept you from your bed." He suggested with a chuckle, turning out of the booth himself, with a lot less exhaustion.
"Yes, please do. And. The pleasure's been all mine... Roseline." He mused her name with a little more charm than necessary, reaching out his hand to take her's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Still think it'd be a shame if you let your Mother ruin such a pretty name for you." He suggested with a playful little smirk, giving nodding his head a single time as he let go. "Hope you sleep well. And, look forward to hearing from you." He added, nodding a formal farewell, before turning to Heidi. "Thanks for the coffee, Ma'm. Could you point me to the toilet?" He asked, heading towards the facilities as pointed, if any, with a warm smile on his lips.

Shiva the Cat · Feb 25, 2020

Rosie tilted her head slightly, wondering what it was about Jacob's "friends" that could make him look so sad. Reaching out, she laid a hand on his shoulder gently. "Well, the nice thing about friends as that you can always make more. At least, a nice man like you shouldn't have too much difficulty making more. But please don't trouble yourself too much about the dance, Jacob. You fought your fight already, it's on the rest of us to make sure you're taken care of. It might take us some time, but we'll handle it, I promise." She gave his shoulder a little bit of a squeeze, then leaned over to pick up the scrap of paper with the phone numbers on it, blushing a little at his remark about the Head Nurse.

"Well, luckily she isn't tapping our home phones. Not yet, at least," she laughed, tucking the paper into her pocket. "I'll just ask for Jacob when I call, but please don't be offended if I don't give my name. Or...I'll tell them it's Lina calling. That...that was a nickname I had back home, when I was a little girl." Actually, there was only one person who ever called her Lina, and he was currently buried in a cemetery with thousands of other boys far across the sea. Somehow though, Rosie didn't think Benji would mind if she shared her secret name with a guy like Jacob though, being a fellow soldier and all.

Still, she couldn't help blushing again as he squeezed her hand and used her full, proper name, noting that it didn't sound so bad when he said it. "Same to you, Jacob. I...I look forward to calling you. Good night!"

Like Molly before her, Rosie all but ran out of the diner, though when she hid her face it was to conceal the smile on her face, not the tears. Once she was on the sidewalk, she even allowed herself to hum cheerfully under her breath all the way to the streetcar three blocks away.

*****

Brothels aren't much more exciting on Tuesday mornings than Monday mornings, but nonetheless another unexpected figure strolled into The Nook the following day. Unlike the petite, sharply dressed form of Molly Fairbairn, the tall man who stumbled in through the door was wearing a disheveled policeman's uniform, his handsome face marred not only by a scar that slashed from his mouth to his ragged left ear, which currently seemed to be bleeding, but by a swollen black eye that seemed to be completely obscuring his vision on one side.

"Anyone home?" he called out as he shut the door behind him, not having bothered to knock. "You got a customer down here, ladies!"

One of the girls who'd been lounging around the bar reading a dime store paperback looked up at the sound of the man's voice, then let out a squeal that started out delighted, then shifted into a more horrified pitch. "Frankie! My god, what happened to you honey? Oh come sit down here, let me take a look at it. Milla!"

A door upstairs opened, and the girl in question peered over the bannister down into the loung confusedly, having just awoke after a late night of work. She gasped at the sight of the injured man, and immediately started down the stairs before her colleague shouted again. "Milla, go find Madame, or Olivia, or somebody! Frank's here, he's looking real rough."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he grumbled, wrapping one arm around the girl's waist and dragging her over to a couch in the middle of the room. Pulling her into his lap, he immediately tugged at the thin fabric of her shift, exposing a good deal of her chest and pressing his face against her skin to inhale the scent of her cheap perfume. "Just need a drink and a fuck. You gonna take care of that for me, Kitty?"

The girl gently pushed herself away, then ran a hand almost tenderly down his face. "You need a doctor, Frankie. What the hell happened anyway? Somebody jump you?" It was rare that someone would be able to take out a hardened fighter like Frank Wilcox, but then again she could smell whiskey on his breath, and Kitty's heart sank. All the girls loved frank in their own ways; some as a protective older brother or father who kept his fellow cops of their backs, some as the regular who always tipped well and was usually in a good mood (and never raised a hand against a woman even when he was in a bad one), but she herself had always held more tender feelings towards the man, and more than with any of her other clients Kitty always tried to make sure he had a good time. Maybe that was why she was one of his favorites, and why he kept a firm grip on her even as she tried to stand up to get him a drink.

"Johnny fucking Popov," he growled, then shot a suspicious look at the whore with his good eye. "He ever come in here, Kitty? Big ugly Russian, bald head, tattoo of an eagle on his arm?"

The girl shook her head quickly. "No, I never seen him." By now, several of the establishment's other employees had come out to see what the commotion was, and Kitty looked to the nearest face, that of one of the few men in Le'Fleur's employ. "Kev, do you know anything about a...Johnny Popov?"

Kev made a face like he smelled something rotten, then crossed over the bar to pour Frank a glass of straight gin, the way he knew he always took it. "I know Madame doesn't allow him in here," he murmured as he handed the glass to the cop. "He's hired muscle for you-know-who."

"Oh Jesus Christ, Kev, Scacco's not the fucking devil. You can say his name and he's not going to appear," Frank roared, gulping down the gin and slamming the glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Kitty yelped and jumped in his lap, afraid the glass might shatter, but instead in just fell on its side and rolled to the floor, where Kev picked it up again and stepped aside so Olivia could approach, holding something wrapped brown paper in one hand, and a roll of bandages in the other.

"You mind setting her aside a moment so we can clean you up, Frank?" the senior prostitute asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Or you gonna bleed all over poor Kitty and pass out before she even gets a chance to take her clothes off?"

Still grumbling under his breath, the cop shifted Kitty off of his lap but kept her close at hand, and signaled to Kev to get another drink while Olivia laid a cold chunk of beef over his eye, and began to dab at his torn ear with a folded wad of gauze. "Scacco wasn't even the one who sent Popov after me. Say what you want about the man, at least Scacco has some fucking class. He'd never send a guy like Popov to rough someone up outside of a goddamned hospital."

"So who do you think did it then, Frankie?" Kitty asked innocently.

He let out a yelp of pain as Olivia brought out the rubbing alcohol, which turned into a bitter laugh. "I'll tell you who sent him. Molly fucking Fairbairn, that's who."

*****

Molly fucking Fairbairn, as Frank had dubbed her, had not had much better of a night than he had. Although not swollen to the degree of his black eye, when she woke up the next morning her own eyes were red and puffy with crying, her lips were dry and cracked, and her glossy blond waves were sticking straight up on top of her head. A lot of the night was a blur to the woman after she'd parted way with Jacob (and oh the memory of his rejection hurt just as bad in the morning as it had the night before), but she knew she'd been drinking vodka, and when she stumbled back out into her kitchen she saw the bottle was half-empty on the table.

Even more surprising was the sound of her shower running, and the man who stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later wearing nothing more than a towel around his waist and a mist of water drops clinging to his bulging arms and chest. In particular, the image of an eagle on his right arm seemed to stand out in particular starkness in the light of the morning.

"Morning," he said gruffly in a heavy Muscovite accent. "You want shower?"

Oh lord, what's he doing here? Molly wondered, swallowing the groan that was bubbling up in her throat. Well, he was naked, so that should have been a hint. Jesus no wonder Jacob wasn't interested in her, between the drinking and the revolving door of men that seemed to have replaced the normal entrance to her sanctum.

"Breakfast first, I think. Want some eggs?" she said, turning her back on him and busying herself in the tiny kitchen.

"Nyet. If there is nothing else, I will be going," her guest remarked, gathering up his clothes from...the living room table, of all places? What the hell did we do last night? Molly wondered as she cracked a few eggs into the pan. It was just as well he get going though, she had her own business to attend to today. In all the adventure of last night, she'd almost forgotten about the supply issue at the Box, and unless Stephen had worked some kind of miracle in her absence she doubted it would be resolved this morning. After she got some food in her, she would need to get dressed, see about meeting with the suppliers Le'Fleur had recommended. If she remembered correctly, Useph operated out of Red Hook, and her gut told her he would be the best bet for getting her something useful. But then again, Le'Fleur had warned her about him...

"Oh hey, Johnny?" Molly looked over her shoulder at the man getting dressed in the middle of her living room. "I actually do have something else I need help with today, if you're not too busy. Feel like taking a spin out to Red Hook?"

"Da."

A few hours later, fed, bathed, dressed in a stark black suit with a wide black hat on her head, Molly descended the steps of her apartment with Yevgeniy "Johnny" Popov in tow, then climbed into the passenger's seat of his personal automobile, ready for yet another business meeting with a less-than-reputable citizen of New York.

GrinningGentleman · Feb 26, 2020

Jacob found himself looking forward to a phone call, more than he ever had. Never, had he wished he'd had that kind of commodities, but he did now. Something about Rosie, had him warm as a mitten, as he strolled around with boxes the next day, working at the Nook. Probably the idea of having something sweeter in his life, than what he'd been drudging with the past many years. There was also the adventure he'd had with Molly earlier on the evening, but it'd been clouded over, by her reaction to his words. As if he'd shut her down, because of her. He hadn't. It had nothing to do with her. And he'd probably have to admit that before he had any chance of reconciling that whole ordeal. Making things right.
He would, though. He was not the tight-lipped one. He had to prove that. That they could admit things to each other. If not that, then what were they?

Jacob paused, when he heard a gruffy voice calling out in the Saloon, in the process of carrying another box from downstairs. His eyes narrowed a bit at the rough Policeman who entered, turning his gaze towards Kev. The veteran employee was already sending him a look, shaking his head a few times, letting the newbie know there was no problem. Jacob didn't loosen up entirely, hearing a slur to the man's words, knowing full well what alcohol could do to people. He did continue his work, however, as Kitty busied off to give the man the attention he craved, walking behind the bar with the box he'd been carrying.

"Oouh, Frankie, sweety, why do you always get yourself so banged up..." Anita, another long-time employee at the Nook mused, leaning on the table she was cleaning, frowning as the young-blood swarmed over the Policeman. She finished cleaning the table, shaking her head lightly. Finishing with the table, she droped the cleaning-cloth on a chair, walking towards the bar as she dried her hands in the cloth around her waist. She picked up a variety of medical supplies, giving Jacob a gentle smile as she passed him. Jacob had started moving bottles onto the shelves, keeping a close ear to the conversation. 'Frankie' was obviously a pet name, and he knew his memory didn't deceive him. 'Frank Wilcox', was the name of someone Molly had spoken quite ill of.

"Be glad you 'aven't, little kitten. Boys like that, eat up girls like you, and me, and the fucks never get full." Anita mumbled, at the mention of Popov, frowning as she walked over next to Frankie as well, scooching a little closer as to take a better look at the man's bleeding ear. "God's sake, man... Did the commy bite you?" She mumbled, looking over his ear, preparing some cloth to halt the bleeding, shaking her head.

"No, but I might, Darling... And hearing that fucking name, always pisses on my Sunday..." Came a sneer from Antoniette Le'Fleur, as she came marching through the room, carrying the large Ledger of people showing up, paying more attention to it, than Frankie. An audible sigh would escape Kev, knowing Le'Fleur just went from having a great day, to probably being a bit hissy. Again... Two consecutive days, that Russian bastard had put le'Fleur in a horrid mood.
"And he's as close to the Devil as you'll get, Frankie. Please, for me, and my girls' sake, don't go getting mingled up with the likes of him?" She mumbled as she wrote something down in the Ledger, seemingly having a fairly busy day, considering how lax it was for her girls, the working ones having plenty of time to take care of Frankie.

Le'Fleur finally looked up, as Milla asked Frankie to move Kitty, a worried smile on her face as she looked to the Policeman. She had a strained relationship with Frankie. He'd been a friend of the Nook, since before they'd had any dealings with the Wrenchers. Now, he was mixed up with them as well, and that didn't sit well with her. She did carry one of the best poker-faces in the City, however, so no one knew that part of her.
"Put the kitten down, Darling, she'll treat you right when the others are done with you. She always does. And you know how expensive it is to get blood out of these dress'." Le'Fleur mused, finally closing the Ledger and moving through the Saloon towards the disheveled Policeman as well.

"Could people please stop pretending they know anything about Don, fucking Scacco? I am getting sick, and tired, of hearing people sucking off his dick, for free, as if the man was some kind of saint... When you're right, you're right. If Scacco wanted to hurt a Policeman, he'd just get one of his Bribes at the Precinct to stab their back." Le'Fleur snarled, as she pulled a chair close in front of Frankie, taking the cloth from around Anita's waist, starting to dab away whatever blood was still liquid around the man's neck. A soft sigh escaped her, trying to put on a gentle smile. "Sorry for snapping, love. But you know how sad it makes me, hearing about him. That man is going to own this town in no time if people don't start opening their eyes." She mumbled silently, a frown weighing her lips down a bit again. Anita continued to carefully dry away blood from Franks ear, bringing out some bandage tape, ready to put one on him, as he continued.

Jacob almost dropped a bottle, at the mention of Molly's name, causing Kev to look over with a raised brow. Jacob shrugged slightly, chuckle on his lips, before looking back at the stacks of alcohol, narrowing his eyes more tightly now. Le'Fleur raised a brow as well, looking over Frankie for a moment, scrounging her nose slightly.
"Frankie, Darling? You do not smell like a Hospital, you smell like three bars and a liquor store." Le'FLeur mused, a teasing smirk across her lips, as she dried a bit of blood off of his cheek, put a playful emphasis on an area she was sure was a bit sore. "Are you sure? What makes you so certain, that Miss Fairbairn is behind that? I have no particular love for that woman, but what would make her call a Russian hitman on you?" She questioned, a gentle smile creeping back up on her lip, as she reached his collar, her free hand starting to unbutton his uniform, letting her see a little further inside, if any blood had slipped down his neck. And, it got him a step closer to the original idea he had there and might help him forgive her hissy nature.

-----------

Red Hook was the 'China Town' of Middle Eastern influence. A thin, long street, with open vendors, trying to drag the attention of everyone passing by. Foreign foods, cheap clothing and jewelry lined the street, overly welcoming sellers dragging the attention of anyone passing by. There was no fear to be found, in this part of the town, however. Even as Molly Fairbairn walked through the street, with a mountain in tow for protection, the jolly, smiling merchants still came forth, trying to drag her into every Pottery, Carpet or jewel store she passed by. The likes of Scacco's people also knew not to cause too much fuzz there. Don Scacco would be wise, to keep a good appearance at Red Hook. The people who ran it, not the kind you wanted to mess with if you wanted to take over a town. This part of town were known to cut the head off of the snake when someone threatened their business, and didn't care how many lives they had to throw at the case.

Asking around for Useph, a few of the merchants cowered at the mere mention, shutting down entirely, and refusing to talk, while some would point them in the direction of a Drapery, near the middle of the street. Outside, they'd see a man, probably in his fifties, slapping the dust out of an old piece of drapery, dust swimming around him like flies. He wore a simple outfit, in a variety of bright and eye-catchy colors, the fashion of the common Middle Eastern man.
The man coughed as they passed him, paying them no attention as they entered the store. Inside, they'd find a garish drapery shop, without any costumers, contrary to all of the other shops they'd passed by. Behind the counter stood another man, and a woman walked around behind him, jamming on in Arabic, both dressed in much finer clothes. The man at the desk nodded with every word the woman uttered, probably trying to type as fast as she talked, and somehow managed it, as she went over the various pots behind him.

Shiva the Cat · Feb 27, 2020

Kitty shivered as she moved out of the way to let some of the other girls tend to Frank's wounds, not liking the sound of Johnny Popov one bit. Of course, any guy who could lay Frank low was scary enough, even if the cop had been drinking when he was cornered. She knew firsthand that underneath the policeman's uniform he was built like a boxer, and on more than one occasion had helped some of The Nook's bouncers throw a troublemaker out on the street. But she was more than a little concerned that he would be drunk this early in the day, or that he'd even come by in the morning. Usually he did his drinking at the brothel itself, after getting off a late shift or coming in for an evening. He had no wife or kids, just his brother Rudy, who was welcome but not a particular favorite at The Nook. Luckily, the younger Wilcox hadn't been by in a while, and everyone assumed he had probably been assigned to a different beat, too far away to make regular visits to the brothel.

Once the girls had sufficiently patched up the wounded man and Kitty had refilled his glass, he barked out a laugh at the madam. "Kinda late for that, ain't it Miss Le'Fleur?" he snarled, taking a deep drink and grabbing Kitty by the waist to pull her back into his lap. "I'll admit, when Rudy told me Popov and some of his friends jumped him over on 48th I thought Scacco had made the call. But we all know Rudy's too small time to get the Don's attention; aside from fucking his daughter--which we all know nobody as ugly as that brother of mine would ever pull off--there ain't nothing he could do to warrant a hit like that."

"Wait, Rudy's in the hospital?" One of the other girls, a rare breed who didn't mind Frank's brother, piped up as she stepped downstairs to see what the commotion was.

"Didn't I just fucking say I came from the hospital?" Frank snarled, but after some soft shushing from Kitty, who nestled into his neck and held his free hand to one of her soft, barely-concealed breasts, he seemed to calm somewhat. "As I was saying, Popov and those guys roughed him up pretty good, so I stopped by last night to cheer the poor guy up with a little hooch. Since we're family, the nurses usually don't mind if I stay the night, but I guess they thought we was getting too rowdy, so they made me leave around three. Anyways, I went in to the alley to take a piss, and who grabs me by the fucking neck but that big bald galoot."

A terrified hush descended over the cop's crowd of listeners, and a few of the younger girls stared at him wide-eyed, as though he were telling a ghost story. This seemed to cheer him all the more as he leaned forward to continue the story. "So I says to him, 'You lookin' to fix me like you tried to fix Rudy?' And he says, in that garbled accent of his, something like 'You and your brother leave Miss Fairbairn alone, she pay you no more.' And then he starts slugging." Sighing, the man leaned back against the couch and continued to absentmindedly fondle the girl in his lap. "I'll admit he knocked me out for a minute or two there, but if I'd laid off the whiskey he'da never had a chance. And I still ain't done with the blonde bitch."

The girls all glanced at each other for a moment, at least the ones who had seen Molly walk into the brothel the day before. Finally one of the whores who had seen her dared to speak up. "Um...you know Frankie, she was here yesterday."

Poor Kitty was almost thrown clear off his lap. "What the fuck?" Frank roared. "The fuck was she doing here?"

"Dunno," the girl replied as Kitty scrambled back into Frank's lap in an attempt to soothe the savage beast. "Wanted to talk to Madame about something."

The officer's eyes shifted to the madam. "Don't tell me you're in league with that icy cunt, Miss Le'Fleur. You run a swell place and I love you like my own sister, but I'll be damned if I step one foot in any place funded with her filthy money. Besides, she quit paying off Rudy and put him in the hospital, then tried to do the same to me after I did nothing but call her out on it. I'd bet a million bucks she'd send Popov and his friends by here to do worse to you and yours. Prissy sluts like her can't stand the sights of hardworking ladies like yourselves. God if I could get my hands around that skinny neck of hers..." Taking another drink, he scowled into his glass. "She'll be uglier than Rudy when I'm done with her. Shit, she'll be the one paying fellas to look at her. See if she thinks she's so high-and-mighty then..."

After draining his glass again, Frank rose shakily to his feet and began to stagger towards the bar, planning to help himself to his next refill. In the process his eyes fell directly on Jacob, and he stared in confusion at the stranger.

"You're new," he stated, looking the man from top to bottom and back again, before his eyes landed squarely on Jacob's metal arm. "Fuck, that's a nice piece. Get that in the war?" Opening his jacket, Frank revealed a silver star pinned to the inside. "Got that for fighting in the Argonne. Then I come back to this shit, can you believe it?" Without even bothering to look at the contents, he grabbed the nearest bottle and began to slosh the contents into a dirty glass that had been forgotten on the bar. "Frank Wilcox," he introduced as he raised the glass to his new acquaintance. "What's your name, friend?"

*****

Molly knew Big Frieda would have accompanied her on today's errand if she had asked, and so would probably Berg and Bjorn, though the latter two probably would have insisted on turning around after the first gruff response to their inquiries as to Useph's specific location. But it was more comforting to have Johnny there with his briefcase in hand, lurking behind her like a bulging shadow as she asked around. She suspected he might have worked Red Hook in the past, both against and on behalf of the locals, but if she dared to ask him about it she was only met with silence. Wasn't that why she paid him thought? Whatever happened today, she knew he would never say a word to anyone, not even her. Not even Big Frieda could promise that.

Eventually they found the drapery that served as Useph's front, and Molly saw a slight irony in how she covered her own illicit dealings with textiles as well. Before entering though, she pulled Johnny aside for a private conference.

"I think we need to lay down some ground rules," she whispered, making sure there was no one nearby to eavesdrop.

"Da."

"If he or any of his people lay a hand on me without my permission, kill them."

"Da."

"If I am out of your sight and you hear me scream, kill everyone until you find me."

"Da."

"If I am out of your sight and you don't hear me for more than an hour, kill everyone until you find me."

"Da."

"If they kill me, leave. Then come back with your crew and burn this place to the fucking ground. Stephen will ensure you get paid, I phoned him this morning to give him advanced notice."

"Da."

The plan established, Molly entered the shop with Johnny in tow, then approached the pair at the counter with a cool, professional expression on her face. "Excuse me," she began in English. "I'm looking for a man named Useph. I'm interested in purchasing some...rather exclusive items, for my club, you see." Reaching into the inner pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a business card emblazoned with her name and slid it across the counter, taking care to position it between the two rather than offer it to a specific person. It was hard to guess at the moment who was in charge, and she couldn't risk offending the wrong person.

"Would it be possible to speak with Mr. Useph today? I'm afraid my business is rather urgent." The woman's face was apologetic and she bowed ever so slightly, but the bald man behind her was unbending, and his dour expression rather ruined the effect of submissiveness Molly was attempting to convey to the pair.

GrinningGentleman · Feb 28, 2020

Le'Fleur looked thoughtful, having to nod with his comment. Both of them were too small to warrant any action from Don Scacco. Besides, the Don wouldn't make a move on a Cop, using a Russian Hitman, her suggestion still seeming the most viable call there. And she was slowly realizing that Rudy and Frank might've been some of Molly's contacts at the precinct. Rudy had surely taken several bribes, she already knew that, being enough of a gullible idiot to take even the smallest of bribes, probably without knowing he was doing something wrong in the first place.

"Frankie..." Le'Fleur sneered slightly, as the Cop snapped at one of her girls for asking a question, eyes narrowed lightly. He was a friend of the Nook, sure, but that didn't make his outburts' alright. Everyone knew he had a rowdy temper, and her girls didn't deserve his fire. Luckily, her girls were good at their job, Kitty calming him down quickly, as the Madame leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she listened.
Le'Fleur wasn't as affected by the story as the girls were, looking thoughtful as she tapped a finger against her arm. If Le'Fleur had felt threatened by Frank, it made sense to send someone like Johnny. If you didn't know Frank, that is. Le'Fleur knew something like this, wasn't going to deter a man like him. It would only add fuel to his fire. He dodged bombs in war, he wasn't going to be afraid of some Russian wannabe gangster who spent his life knocking over drunk idiots.

Le'Fleur took a moment to think, until hearing one of her girls flap her mouth about Molly's visit. Her eyes darted onto the girl like needles, narrowing harshly. She completely ignored Frankie's outburst at first, glaring down the girl who'd talked.
"My business with Molly Fairbairn, is my own, Frankie. But, if it might soothe your heart, I am hardly funded by that hissy little Lady. But, sadly, I am not in a position to chose whom I do business with, Frankie." She informed, still glaring at the teller a little longer, before turning back towards Frankie. "I gave her some advice, I received some back. An exchange of knowledge, which we all know goes a long way. And, if it'll give me a leg up on the little businesswoman one day, I'll take it." She stated, getting off of her chair as she turned towards the girl who'd spoken out, eyes like needles once again.
"How do we survive?" She practically hissed, in a hushed tone, the girl in question cowering slightly, as the others turned their attention away. "By not 'kissing and telling', girl... When you go flapping those lose little lips of yours, you endanger the rest of us. There are no 'Friends' of the Nook, when it comes to information. The only one we share that with?" She snarled, her tone venomous as she lectured the young Prostitute, who lowered her eyes.
"You." She whimpered, fiddling with her dress. Le'Fleur sighed softly, raising a hand to gently stroke the girl's cheek.
"Information keeps us safe. We don't let it go, without money being exchanged, or my say so. I only bite, because I care, sweety." Le'Fleur whispered, her tone still strict, but with a lavender aftertaste. "Go to my room, dear." She then smirked slightly, the girl looking up a little frightened. "I'll be there in a while." She ordered, the girl retreating from the Saloon, as Le'Fleur turned her attention back towards Frankie.

Jacob had practically drilled a hole in the table at this point, his fingers so tense that they'd grown sore, while the mechanical ones just kept digging. Every word out of Frank Wilcox's mouth was slowly becoming daggers to Jacob's patience. If his way of 'letting her know' was assaulting her, he sure had a way to talk with people he didn't like. He no longer knew Molly as he'd used to, but he refused to believe, she'd done all of this, without good reason. He believed her when she said that Wilcox had done her wrong. This was another good reason, why he really shouldn't be working for her. If he had, and she'd sent him to return the favor? Frank would not have been attending a brothel now. That thought scared him.

Jacob looked over his shoulder, hearing Frankie approach the bar, eyes meeting with the man as he poured a drink. His emotions weren't as barred on the skin as they had been now. Inside, Jacob was roaring, wanting nothing less than to knock Frankie off of his feet, but the man seemed liked around here, and he'd just got this job. He couldn't lose that now, just to defend Molly's honor. Especially, when he didn't feel like he had the full picture. Wasn't sure, if Molly's actions had been justified.

When referred to, he nodded a single time, letting go of the poor table in front of him to turn around and lean back against it. He looked down to his arm as it was referred to, head nodding a few times, looking back up to see Frank's star. Another Veteran, then. Everyone coin had two sides to it. Argonne was nasty business. Earning a star there, the man earned his keep tenfold. One of the most intensive uses of Walkers and autonomous tanks in the war. Which meant Jacob had been there as well.
"Jacob." He introduced himself, nodding a single time. Part of him didn't want to respond. Didn't want to talk to the man, afraid he might just socket him. "Argonne was nasty. I wish we could've taken down the Demons faster for you guys." Jacob frowned, trying to make conversation, crossing his arms to keep his shaky fists hidden.
Saying this, probably hinted at Jacob's position in the war. There were a few Companies, specialized in taking down Walkers and autonomous tanks, just like those taking down normal tanks, very... Creatively and inappropriately named 'Demon Fuckers'. Demons, was the nickname of the larger walkers, and Companies like Jacob's 'fucked' them over. These Companies had been highly respected during the war, doing a lot of bloody work, and taking a lot of losses for their 'bravery' and 'sacrifice'. Getting close to Walkers, was otherwise considered suicidal, but the 'Demon Fuckers' did it. No one, of course, realizing they were completely expected to. Jacob had tried to get his boys and girls put into other Companies several times, almost happy when one got badly enough wounded, that they couldn't continue as a part of the Company. There were few offenses when Jacob didn't lose at least ten people. And, trying to not make friends with the people you bled and died with, had proven impossible. He'd lost a lot of friends out there.

Letting the boys talk for a moment, Le'Fleur walked around the bar, getting herself a glass of Whiskey from bellow the counter, sighing softly. She let Frank react to Jacob's introduction, before leaning against the bar, tilting her head slightly.
"Frankie, dear? Might I ask... What exactly, is your intentions with Molly Fairbairn?" She questioned, tapping a finger gently at the counter. "I hear, that she pays pretty decently at the precinct. Probably won't get too popular, if you start rolling heads? And, against my warnings, some of my girls actually attend her little menagerie. If you ever hear anything about something going down at the Box, you'd let us know, right? You wouldn't want us, hurt in the crossfire?" She mused in a sweet tone, finger twirling in circles on the table, playfully pouting. Jacob's armed tightened a bit around him, turning his eyes up towards Frankie, about as curious as Le'Fleur about this information.

-----------

The younger man behind the counter finally looked up, when Molly approached and referred to him. His eyes narrowed slightly, looking her over first, and then turning his eyes towards Johnny, glaring even more dangerously. He looked to the card as it was introduced, raising a brow as he looked down at it, as if he'd just been presented something completely foreign to him. The older Lady behind him turned around as well, crossing her arms as she looked over Molly with a censorious look of disapproval. The younger man looked back up to Molly, as she bowed, his eyes being turned back towards Johnny, starting to stand up straight.
The young man started speaking in a warning tone, in Arabic, nodding towards the large Russian, paying no attention to Molly at this time. As he did, people started showing up from around Drapes, doors and openings in the room, all ready for something to go down.

Before anything could really happen, however, the older man they'd seen outside huffed loudly, wavering his arms as he walked past both of his guests.
"How are you supposed to conduct business, when talking to the goons!?" The man complained, the younger man immediately cowering back down from his proud, straight posture, starting to apologize in Arabic. "And in the home tongue! Your guests won't know a word you're speaking, you could be putting a curse on them, for all their American minds might know... She probably brought the Mountain, because she heard about my business from a reliable source. Out! Out you go!" The man ordered, speaking decent English, if heavily laced in a middle eastern accent. The younger man cowered away, the older woman joining him as well, still glaring at Molly over her shoulder.

The older man walked behind the counter, dusting off his hands on his colorful shirt, just causing more dust to raise from him, as he looked down at Molly's card. The people crowded around the shop remained, however, leaning against whatever they were closest to.
"Now. Miss.. Fair. Fair... Barn? Fairbarn. I am Useph. A pleasure." He introduced, nodding a single time as he rested his hands on the table, glancing shortly over at Johnny, pouting slightly. "Exclusives, yes?" He reached out to a carpet, draped over the counter next to the register, stroking the fabric, and raising the edge to show the thickness. "Very expensive furs and linen from the old country, hm? What do you think? Look excellent in any entrance, yes?" He questioned, a merchantiles grin across his lips, as he looked back down at the card, pouting his lips again, humming thoughtfully.
"Who... Referred you to me? Might. Help me better serve your interests?" He questioned, looking back up to Molly, now paying no more attention to Johnny. He was not threatened by the man's presence and had plenty of ways to deal with the situation if it suddenly went south.

Shiva the Cat · Feb 29, 2020

The young girl who'd spoken squeaked in fear at the admonishment she had received from Le'Fleur, but nonetheless she rose to her feet and slunk off in the direction the madam had indicated, looking helplessly over her shoulder at her friends. Not a single one moved, knowing the rules of the establishment, and not even remotely interested in taking Mimi's punishment for her. Instead, a few others trailed after Frank, draping themselves around him while his gaze was fixed squarely on Jacob.

However he was either too drunk or too oblivious to notice the unfriendly look on the bouncer's face, and a warm smile transformed the cop's face as he firmly shook Jacob's hand. "Shit man, you're not telling me you were one of those guys taking down those big fucking things? Jesus, if it wasn't for guys like you I'da never made it back. Hey Olivia, pour this bastard a drink, will ya?" he snapped his fingers at one of the girls as though she were no wiser than a dog, then grinned back at his fellow veteran. "You gotta let me treat you, buddy. On behalf of every guy in my unit who was able to come home. You wanna know why guys like Popov and Scacco don't scare me?" Frank's voice grew louder as he looked around the room, then clapped a heavy hand on Jacob's shoulder. "Because after staring up at those skyscrapers with legs ain't nothing under ten feet tall gonna scare me. Probably you neither, right buddy?"

Frank raised his glass to Jacob, but his expression fell slightly when Le'Fleur brought up Molly's name again. "She used to pay well," he growled. "But it seems a while back some guys came in and caused some trouble down at the box--" Here he paused, and through the drunken haze in his eyes a knowing glance seemed to fly into Le'Fleur's face. "--and Princess Kiss-My-Ass wasn't too happy with how the cops handled it, not making any arrests and all. Seems it was about that time she decided to quit paying Rudy, and Scacco started hanging out at her place a lot more often. If I had to guess, she decided protection money was a better investment than police bribes. There's plenty of guys down at the precinct that would still love to see her taken down a few pegs, but they ain't about to start a war with Don Scacco any more than you are."

Downing the rest of the contents of the glass and swaying heavily against Jacob, Frank pointed a finger almost directly into the bouncer's nose. "You want my advice, Jacob? Stay the fuck out of the Hat Box. And that goes double for you ladies." The finger moved in a slow circle as it pointed out each of the surrounding prostitutes. "It ain't no place for anyone who's afraid of Scacco. I don't even go there myself unless I got business to take care of, and it ain't because I'm chicken. That cheap slut waters down her booze and can't get a decent band to save her life. It ain't even fucking worth it, Le'Fleur. If I were you, I'd put the kibosh on any of your girls going by that place. Especially this weekend."

A wicked smile crossed his face as he glanced back at Jacob. "Now like I said, that joint ain't no place for anyone scared of guys like Scacco. But I can't imagine a Demon Fucker would be so quick to turn tail on someone as insignificant as the biggest mob boss in the city. You want a bit of fun though, maybe we'll talk later, huh? But in the meantime..." Dropping his arm from Jacob's shoulder, Frank turned and grabbed Kitty, who let out a surprised and delighted little yelp. He paused a moment, then grabbed Olivia's wrist as well. "I got some business to handle with these two." Reaching around Kitty's shoulders into his pocket, Frank pulled out his entire wallet and chucked it unceremoniously at Le'Fleur's head.

"Knock on the door when I've spent everything in there, all right? Come on girls, I think I need some more nursing..."

*****

"The pleasure's all mine, Useph. Please, call me Molly. All my friends do," the woman smiled, holding out a perfectly-manicured hand in greeting. She wasn't sure he would shake it, considering what she'd heard of Arabs and how they interacted with women, but it seemed worth a shot. With her free hand, she gestured casually towards Johnny. "Please don't mind him, he's merely a bodyguard. The city's getting so dangerous these days, it would simply be foolish of a young lady like myself to go anywhere without some kind of protection. He's quite harmless, I assure you."

About as harmless as a tiger in a tin cage, but sure, why the hell not. Although Molly's eyes did gaze appreciatively at the rugs and hangings on display, she had to shake her head slightly in declination. Gorgeous as they were, they would clash horribly with the decor of the club as it was.

"I'm actually looking for something a bit more particular," she replied, dropping her voice a little. "My dear friend, Miss Antoinette Le'Fleur, mentioned to me that you occasionally import some small batch...potables, shall we say? You see, Useph, I own a small social club, and we're having a very exclusive event this coming Saturday. I'm looking to serve my guests something astounding, and Miss Le'Fleur assured me you were the man to see about that. Is she correct?"

Pulling up her Chanel purse, the blonde woman opened it rather conspicuously, allowing him to see the good-sized wad of bills inside. "Assuming Miss Le'Fleurs information is correct, I would greatly appreciate it if you would allow me to browse your inventory. Would that inconvenience you terribly?" Molly's eyes were wide and gentle, but her nails were like claws as they raked over the little stack of twenties in her purse before snapping it audibly shut.

GrinningGentleman · Feb 29, 2020

Jacob smiled humbly, shaking his head a few times with Frank's statement. Many didn't make it home. Sure, it was unfair to expect anyone to be able to safeguard everyone, but Argonne in particular, his General had been late to send his forces. The intel was there. They knew the Walkers were going to be there. Why it took him so long to dispatch them, none of his men knew. They were ready, and while they weren't particularly well-rested, that sure hadn't stopped the pompous asswhole from sending them into more danger.
"Your people held the line admirably, Mr. Wilcox. Without you, we wouldn't have made the difference we did." He humbly suggested, and entirely believed. His Company was nothing without others around. They couldn't do their job, without someone else around.

He gazed shortly towards Le'Fleur, who looked a little surprised at Jacob's manners, but waved a hand in agreement when a glass of Whiskey was offered. Jacob picked it up, raising it to Jacob as he spoke, his face loosening slightly. It was infuriating, in fact. Part of him felt, he could've gotten along fairly well with this man, if he didn't know what he'd done. Well, he didn't... But he trusted Molly, to a fault. He knew it was stupid. She'd seemed very interested in keeping secrets. Why would she not overplay Frank's assault?
He shrugged the thought as he took a sip from his glass, eyes narrowing slightly with Le'Fleur's question, and as Frank started.

Le'Fleur slowly shook her head with Frank's 'knowing' look, sighing with a roll of her eyes. It seemed everyone believed she had a part in that whole situation. It was starting to get quite infuriating. She held it back, however, way better than Jacob did, with every slur thrown Molly's way. Jacob had to turn away for a moment, face scrounging in frustration. Kev noticed, sending him a searching look, and a pair of narrowed eyes as he shook his head a single time. Jacob grumbled inaudibly, taking another sip from his glass as Frank continued.
He looked back down to Frank as he leaned against him, an arm instinctively ready to catch the drunk fool, if he should stumble. He raised a brow with Frank's question, opting not to answer, as he continued. Many of the girls, however, looked thoughtful with her suggestion, Le'Fleur thoughtfully pouting her lips.

A torch was lit in Jacob, his entire body scrounging as the man suggested something special was happening this weekend. He had to swallow, breathing in heavily through his nose as he groaned, he watched Frank starting to pull away. Probably best that way. If Jacob blew now, he'd have Kev on his back as well. Instead, he managed to hold his fire back, but his mind was already set. His business with Frank wasn't over yet.

Le'Fleur barely caught Frank's wallet, snorting with a shake of her head.
"Always a pleasure doing business..." She mumbled with a small smirk, looking down to the wallet. "You girls call out, if he decides something more pricey would be fun tonight... Or, don't. As I expect you won't..." She snickered, raising her brows as she looked into the wallet. She knew Frank always got special treatment, and that the girls wouldn't charge extra for the more pricey acts. Also didn't matter, when he was ready to throw that amount of money on it.
She turned her eyes towards Jacob, brows raising slightly. Like a string, ready to snap, he glared after the happy man, retiring to Kitty's room.
"Whatever you're thinking, Jacob... Don't." She demanded, leaning to the side in her chair, using Frank's wallet as a fan. "You lay a hand on that man, and you're back on the streets without a job again." She warned, pressing the wallet into her bra, turning off of her chair. "I am beginning to think, the two of you are a lot more than old acquaintances." She suggested as Jacob downed the rest of his glass in one gulp, a slight grimace as he slammed the glass down.
"I'll be outside." He grunted, marching around the counter, practically raising out the door.

Le'Fleur retreated to her room, to greet the poor Nina who'd been told there. It wouldn't be much more than an hour before Nina returned, wearing a pair of saying, puffy, pink cloth bracers and a deep blush on her cheeks. A few of the other girls grinned knowingly, giggling playfully as the younger prostitute ran for her room, straightening her skirt and bra.
Frank had clearly been looking for a good day, displaying enough money to last him till afternoon. If he didn't come home before than, Le'Fleur even opted to give him an extra hour, as the evening proved rather slow, letting him stay till the sun went down, and even calling for a stop before the money ran out entirely, letting him have enough for something to eat. She treated good, returning costumers well.

Jacob, was also still around. Grumbling as he worked along. Waiting. Biding his time. He had to know...

----------

"Molly, I hope it is, then." He suggested, a smile on his face, ignoring the outstretched hand. He didn't seem averse towards her, quite well mannered in fact, but didn't seem quite so interested in the idea of shaking hands. Her reassurance about Johnny made him nod a few times, pouting as he looked up the man, laughing.
"Hmh. Harmless, yes. Look at that specimen... About as harmless as a Cannon, as long as no one lights the fuse, yes." He mumbled with a laugh, very avidly waving his hands towards Johnny. "One only hires such a person, if they wish to make a statement... Which suggests to me, that you've. Heard about us." He narrowed his eyes a bit, his expression softening slightly. "Not offended. Flattered, more so. We're just Tailors and Merchants, here, yes?." He grinned, before letting her continue.

Useph's brows raised slightly at the mention of Le'Fleur, any strong deminure's dropping slightly, laughing a single time. There was a somewhat nervous glance towards the draped doorway the other Lady had exited through, though. He remained quiet for now, however, looking down to the woman's wallet with a raised brow, showing obvious interest. The man pouted slightly, having slowly been tilting closer to the pouch until it was snapped shut before him, and he clicked his tongue a single time.
"Hmh. The dear Madame really sent you here? How is she do..."

The man was immediately interrupted as he was about to speak about Le'Fleur, as the woman from earlier came rushing back through the doorway, saying all sorts of curses in Arabic, waving her arms aggressively. Useph turned apologetic, answering back in the same language, slowly sighing and starting to roll his eyes as he lost patience. He started looking to the two younger men who'd followed her out, waving his arms dismissively, the woman slowly being lead away, but not without cursing and sneering over her shoulder until she was out of sight, and was clearly lead through a door in the back, the room grew silent again.

"Still do not know, how she learned about Le'Fleur's profession... My apologies." Useph sighed, as he folded his hands in front of himself, staring down Molly for a while. Quite a while. After about a minute or so, Useph tapped his hands a few times against the table, arms shooting out to the side.
"Let's see if we don't have something, hm? Boys!" He ordered, clapping his hands a few times. Like a hive of bees, the shop immediately turned lively, even more young men showing up than had been visible before. They shuffled away drapes, curtains and blankets, bringing out a wide range of various liquors. The most Amber Whiskey in town, showing off how it was hardly diluted yet. The brightest Vodka's, the heaviest Gins. Every item, however, came in smaller batches of one case, and from how everything was brought out right before their eyes, it seemed this very room held his entire stock.

"What might this 'little' Social Club, be most interested in, hm? Whiskey, perhaps, from British Barrels? Or, perhaps wines, from the Vineyards of France? Or, maybe some Vodka? The big fellah, I am sure, would appreciate some Vodka, huh?" He laughed, playfully punching Johnny's arm, as he'd made his way around the counter. It was probably a very obvious prod, but nevertheless. He wanted to see how furious the Tiger was, who'd entered his shop. He knew, there would be a bullet in Johnny's back, before he could do too much harm. He trusted his own security.

Shiva the Cat · Apr 20, 2020

Molly's eyes narrowed ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, suspicious of Useph's refusal to shake her hand. But then again, if he was a Mohammedan or something like that she supposed it couldn't be helped, what with their attitudes towards women and all. Even if he didn't want to touch her the man still did seem friendly enough, and she couldn't afford to offend him by pressing the issue. Instead she shrugged a little and smiled up at the glowering face beside her with a pride usually reserved for a prized racehorse or showdog.

"He is rather frightening, isn't he? But as long as he keeps the troublemakers out of my hair, that's all I care about," she replied. "As for Le'Fleur--"

She never got a chance to make up a lie about Le'Fleur's condition, considering the explosive reaction from Useph's--wife?--at the mention of the madam's name. With his back turned to her, Molly couldn't help but smirk a little in agreement at the darker woman's very obvious opinion of her rival. It did beg the question of why the woman would allow her husband to sell to a panderer like Le'Fleur if she disapproved so strongly of her business, but Molly supposed she didn't have any choice in the matter and simply made up for it with vehement protest. Just another reason to never marry she reminded herself as Useph's associates shuffled the woman back into the recesses of the building.

After waving off Useph's apologies, Molly's gaze was quickly torn in any number of directions as the textiles dropped to review bottles and casks of every shape and size, quickly causing her to gasp aloud. How in the world did she not know about this man? Sure he didn't have the volume that Liam did, but Christ, some of the wines were older than she was, and her eyes fell on a particular bottle of scotch that was produced the same year as her dear old Da had been born.

This is going to cost me a fortune she thought to herself after the initial shock and awe wore off. Well that might be true, but what she couldn't sell by the bottle at a ridiculous markup she could easily water down for cocktails. Between what she'd be getting from Liam and the shine that would be coming later that week, it would at least keep them up and running for another couple of weeks, and in the meantime she could supply the party with the treasures of Useph's storehouse.

"I'm afraid I don't move much wine these days, although this looks delightful," Molly said finally, running her fingers down a graceful bottle of cabernet with a genuine look of longing. After a moment though, she turned to look at the whiskeys, all of which looked particularly promising.

"These though...whiskey's quite popular with the gentlemen patrons. Gin too. How much would it be to purchase your entire stock of both?" Turning, she looked Useph directly in the eye, her cold blue stare making it clear she was no housewife come to browse, but a serious buyer ready to write a check. "I may also be interested in a bottle of brandy or two if you have them as well, but its the gin and whiskey I really need. The rest is just luxury. I'm sure you can understand," Molly added, running her hand across a very fine rug that was serving as a backdrop for some of the smaller wares.

Meanwhile, Johnny stood like an immense statue behind his employer, although his gaze too sharpened as he looked down at the little man before him. For one brief moment the knuckles of his left hand twitched and almost jolted the briefcase he carried, but beyond that he show no reaction to Useph's taunts. It made sense of course; you didn't get to be a man with Johnny Popov's professional reputation by flying off the handle at every minor provocation, and really he wasn't a man to hold grudges unless it was profitable. However he made sure to keep a close eye on Molly, not disliking the idea of enacting the rules she had made if the occasion called for it.

Midnight, Stars, and You - A Dieselpunk Love Ballad [Shiva the Cat x GrinningGentleman]

GrinningGentleman

Super-Earth

Shiva the Cat

the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated

GrinningGentleman

Super-Earth

Shiva the Cat

the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated

GrinningGentleman

Super-Earth

Shiva the Cat

the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated

GrinningGentleman

Super-Earth

Shiva the Cat

the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated

GrinningGentleman

Super-Earth

Shiva the Cat

the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated

GrinningGentleman

Super-Earth

Shiva the Cat

the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated