2019-05-07 - Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Summary:

A quiet bar in the late hours, where the good, the bad, and the crazy cross paths.

Log Info:

Storyteller: none
Date: Tue May 7 12:02:31 2019
Location: The Busted Flush, NYC

Related Logs

none

Theme Song

{$themesong}

rhosyn-forrestsunnysarah-rainmakerscandal

There's a lot to be said for being a sort-of free woman, at least when some of the alternatives are considered. Having chosen a bar at random, Scandal Savage now lurks in a gloomy corner, booted feet up on a stool in front of her, bottle of beer in hand. There's a pensive scowl on her features, but her gaze is settled on the middle-distance rather than any localized source of discontent - and when she takes another swig of her drink, her lips twitch into a wry smile.

Sarah, meanwhile, is reconsidering her impulsive decision to visit a bar to get something to eat this time of day. Sure, the Philly sandwich was fine and such, but she's also been having to discourage several people in a row who saw a pretty woman sitting by herself as an invitation to invite themselves over. Thus, it hasn't been quite as a relaxing meal as she might prefer, to the point where another starts heading her way she gives him a death glare until he reconsiders and moves off, before she sips from her Pepsi.

When the sun is shining, Rose enjoys the sunlight. Even looking for a decent job in the city is something she relishes.
But night time…is the RIGHT time. And Thorn is on the prowl.

The door opens and the auburn-haired woman in the hooker boots, the short skirt, halter top and fingerless latex gloves (all a dark green) strides into the bar. Her green eyes scan the bar, looking for the thin guy with the porn mustache and the cheap chains. He had provided the keys and the info so that two men could stalk her parents seven years ago.
And if she can get to him, he will tell her everything.

She walks up to the bar, and orders two fingers of scotch on the rocks.

Sometimes even the cliche' had some weight to them. Sure there were alternatives to drinking these days, but some habbits carried true forward through time; Sunny was headed to a bar. She was still wrapped in the heavy coat she preferred, but at least she'd left the hat behind. Instead the taller blonde beauty seems to pause in the doorway for a moment at the sight she'd seen plenty of variations of throughout time before she heads towards the counter itself. A lean and a signal, she was seeking her own drink while her gaze passes over each of the other women in turn.

It's the sort of maneuver that seems to take far more effort than it should - but with an exertion of will, Scandal abandons her pose of ultimate relaxation, lowers her feet to the floor, and rises to her feet. Emerging from the shadows, she can be seen to favour a leather jacket over a tight top and leggings, paired with jungle boots for a combiation of stompiness and freedom of movement. All in black, as befits her present mood of resenting The Man and all the forms and contracts he has made her sign. Still - beer in hand - she steps out into the light. The strikingly-clad newcomers receive a curious look apiece, but it's Rainmaker upon whom she advances, venturing a wry smile as narrows the gap to conversational range. "Feel free to tell me to take a hike," she directs to the stranger, "but I thought that I'd offer a little moral support and company, if you wanted it. You look to have even more native blood than me, and I know it can draw the wrong sort of interest all too often."

It's mostly people watching at this point for Sarah; she doesn't really have anything to do yet. She's grabbing what time she can before she and her friends have to move on before those following after them catch up again. She's got a plan, after all..and a place she'll let them catch up. But for now, she's got a moment to relax. Her eyes blinks as she follows the woman in green and does, in fact, wonder (based mostly on the top) if she might be a lady of negotiable affections, before deciding she shouldn't judge people by their outfits. Sunny also gets a brief, curious look as she enters.

At the approach from Scandal, Sarah at first isn't making eye contact. Sometimes it gets people to get the idea and head off, at least. But it's not enough to discourage Scandal, meaning the Apache teen raises her head at that point, meeting Scandal's gaze directly as she gets a faint frown of thought. "…you're native? Let me guess, your great-grandmother was Cherokee?" The tone is wry as she sips from her drink, shifting around so she can face Scandal better. She's dressed down at the moment…tattered jeans and a hoodie that look like they came out of secondhand bin somewhere, with leather fringed boots, her long dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that falls to the small of her back.

Thorn gave the place a careful once-over as she sipped from the tumbler. The usual losers, waiting for the end, a few barflies who life begins and ends in this place. A couple of dopers in the corner, a pair of jocks trying to do some kind of deal.

It's not all bad, though. The dark-haired woman with the odd rustic look is connecting with a serious hard girl, and the blonde in the trenchcoat doesn't have that smell of desperate on her.

She glanced around again. He was here somewhere. She looked to the bald barkeep, then motioned him over, a folded $50 in one hand. "Where's Washington?"

A tilt of her head, perhaps it's a tug at memory. Is it that surprising that the woman dressed like she'd stepped out of some old gunslinger story turned her gaze towards talk of natives? Sunny herself was almost painfully classically European in her beauty, blonde locks and fair skin, so she wasn't going to go cutting in on that discussion! Rose now gets a longer glance, perhaps for her outfit or her words, but at least the blonde had a drink to watch over the rim of now.

Slipping onto a perch next to Sarah, Scandal responds with something fluent yet incomprehensible - unless there happen to be any specialists in the Panoan tongues of the far Western Amazon present in the bar. Do you think you're the only one who gets attention she doesn't want, because she looks strange and interesting to those around her? She smiles after the string of evidently non-Indo-European syllables, before reverting to English. "No, I can safely say that the Trail of Tears has contributed nothing to my genetic makeup. Either in reality or in fantasy." Rose's attempted transaction earns her another lingering glance from this direction as well, but it seems that Scandal is at least trying to focus on either supporting or hitting on the Apache.

Scandal at least as Sarah's attention at the moment as she slides into the booth next to her rather than across from her, the native girl shifting back to put her back against the wall of the boot and bring up a leg, resting the sole of her left boot on the bench between them as she leans against her knee. "Whatever you say, ligai izdzan." she notes wryly, responding in a bit of Western Apache. "So what exactly are you meaning by moral support?" Her eyes flick back to Rose again as Scandal also looks that way. There's something about the woman that has her instincts telling her to be a little wary, but she's not sure why. Or who this Washington is.

Scandal at least has Sarah's attention at the moment as she slides into the booth next to her rather than across from her, the native girl shifting back to put her back against the wall of the boot and bring up a leg, resting the sole of her left boot on the bench between them as she leans against her knee. "Whatever you say, ligai izdzan." she notes wryly, responding in a bit of Western Apache. "So what exactly are you meaning by moral support?" Her eyes flick back to Rose again as Scandal also looks that way. There's something about the woman that has her instincts telling her to be a little wary, but she's not sure why. Or who this Washington is.

The barkeep grins. "The history books. First President, four terms." He chuckles at his joke as he reaches for the folded fifty.
Then the woman in green grasps the reaching hand and plants it on the bartop, grasping two of the fingers. The barkeep's face drains of color in a second flat.
"Funny guy. Now, try it again. Without the bad joke. Otherwise I'm going to live-long-and-prosper your dominant hand, JACKASS."
Her voice was calm, her smile amused, but the green eyes were filled with joyful savagery. She WANTED him to make another joke, or stall, or say anything other than the truth. The way his eyes flicked to the EMPLOYEES door told her what she needed to know…but school is still in session.

"Boyfriend or bounty?" The question is asked rather plainly by Sunny as she spots the violence and threat barely arms length from her at the hands of the green-garbed woman. "If you're going to start mangling the the tender, let him pass me the bottle first, huh?" She shifts, coming to rest with her hip against the edge. Eyes do flick to Scandal, Sarah and the maybe-flirtation before she looks back towards Rose once more. "No need to spoil a perfectly good drink."

"I was attempting to remember how to be chivalrous," Scandal says dryly - gaze flickering from Sarah to Rose and back again. With the lovely blonde taking an interest, perhaps events at the bar might be kept in hand. Or, at least, hands might be kept unbroken. "Gallant black-clad knight riding to the rescue, and all that. Or at least offering to be available to do so should someone *want* to be a damsel in distress for a little bit, rather than tackling badass duties on her own." She shrugs slightly, the gesture prompting a quiet creak from her leather jacket. "But honestly: I've had total strangers tell me that they've fallen in love with my cheekbones, or that it's amazingly hot how hair this tone of black is only found in 'native chicks', and more besides. I really was trying to offer help, in case it would be appreciated. I apologize if I put my foot in it instead."

Sarah snorts a bit at that, but there's a faint twinkle in her eyes as she finishes her drink. "You didn't, but I'm just on my way out…" the tall Apache says , patting Scandal's shoulder as she silps out the other side of the boot. "Though I've never been a fan of the damsel in distress trope." Even with as shapeless as the hoodie is, she moves iwth an easy athletic grace suggesting muscle tone underneath. "Maybe another time?" She leans in by Scandal, murmuring. "And I'm thinking that girl at the bar is trouble, and I really don't need trouble finding me just now. Nothing on you, hmm?" Sarah flashes a quick smile and a wave, making her way out of the bar. Yeah. This suggests police may be involved soon, and the last thing she needs is someone bringing her in for questioning as a witness, considering who's after her.

The barkeep winces and says, "O-office…"
Thorn smiles and releases the hand, putting the money in the twitching palm. "Good boy."
She seems to notice Sunny for the first time, regarding the statuesque blonde for a re-appraisal as the barkeep retreats. After a moment, she replies, "Neither. Pest control." She abruptly finishes her drink, tossing a ten-spot on the bartop next to it as she pushes back from the bar. "Now, if you'll excuse me…I have to go step on a roach."

A pause, Sunny's hand comes out suddenly. Placed on Thorn's shoulder for a moment as she straightens up. "If it's gonna be bodies dropping," she speaks softly, but her eyes fix on the other woman. "You'd best be sure it's only the ones that need dropping…" Her lips quirk, tone shifting a little more towards amusement. "And let me get to the bottom of my drink before you do."

Scandal gets a glance as Sarah leaves, earning a soft tsk from the blonde. "Struck out?"

Scandal cocks her head to better watch Sarah depart, before sighing… then cracking a rueful grin and raising her beer-bottle to Sunny. "So it seems," she says ruefully, raising her voice a little to car to the bar. "Though at least I got turned down gently." She nods to Rose and the unfortunate barkeep.

That elicits one raised eyebrow…and a smirk. "I wouldn't worry, blondie. You would be amazed and unsettled at what happens behind closed doors in places like this. Things no one ever sees…or hears…until it's all over. I think you'll have plenty of time for your drink…"

(…before the shrieking starts,) she thinks and does not say.
She begins walking towards the EMPLOYEES ONLY door with a subtle sway in her hips, a slight smile on her face…and something dark in those green eyes…
…something like murder.

"Blondie?" she repeats, but the hand is removed and she raises her drink to her lips while the other woman makes to retreat. Sunny was far from above killing to right a wrong, but of course she only really had it on good faith that Thorn was doing the same. Seems she'll have to keep an eye out on the woman, for more than just the clearly deliberate eye-catching attire.

Downing her drink, she looks towards the bartender and jerks her head to the shelves. "Best pour another," she murmers before flicking towards Scandal. "Better send her one two." Addressing the woman herself, the blonde chuckles. "I don't think that 'gently' is the theme of the night…"

Scandal snorts a chuckle in Sunny's direction, before narrowing her eyes at Rose's back when her destination becomes clear. "I don't think that particular problem's been *resolved* just yet," she warns the blonde, nodding towards the EMPLOYEES ONLY door that's about to have a violent customer barge through it. "But the drinks are appreciated. Thank you." She raises her beer again - then hesitates, wondering if being a Thunderbolt means that she's contractually obliged to try to intervene in this sort of mess, or if that would count as unlicensed vigilantism and a breach of her deal…

The door is unlocked, and Thorn steps through.

The short hallway leads past the cooler and the storage area. Steve "Stevie" Washington was sitting behind his desk when he saw the stripper step in. Just his style.
"Hey, babe. Gimme a sec to put this stuff away. Who sent you?"
The stripper smiled. "Daniel and Angela Forrest."
Stevie froze, then looked at her again. "ROSE…" he hissed, and yanked the drawer open for his .38.
The stripper jumped on the desk, landing in a crouch, and then there was the SNIK! of a switchblade, the sharp point at Stevie's throat.

"…NOT ROSE."

A little downing of her next glass, it was more a taste and familiarity thing then actually getting drunk for Sunny, and it didn't look like she was going to get a chance thanks to the 'Stripper'. She actually sighs at the all-to-familiar noises of violence before adjusting her jacket just a little. It was still hanging loose, deliberately obscuring her weapons that would probably have a few people nervous were it not for the sounds of stabbings.

A glance to the bartender? She shrugs. "Now is probably time to run."

Scandal sighs as well, biting her lip as she peers in the same direction as Sunny. "That does not sound like we're set for a quiet night," she grumbles.

The bartender eyes Sunny, then the back office. Then decides instead to hit the silent alarm that starts a chirp. This goes to the bouncer outside, who was checking IDs and such for people coming in. Who is currently hitting on Sarah all this time and has been preventing her from actually leaving, something she's been getting increasingly annoyed and agitated about. When the silent alarm goes off, the bouncer assumes, not being able to hear the ruckus outside, that the bartender is beeping him because of something Sarah's done.

Long story short, the bartender comes back in, dragging a protesting Sarah by the arm. "Hey! Let go of me!" There's some cursing under her breath as the bartender thumbs towards the back office, and the bouncer gives Sarah a hard shove, sending her falling back into a nearby booth. "Stay there." he rumbles, heading for the back.

Stevie looked up at her. She was supposed to be weak, timid, compliant. That was what her file said. "…you're CRAZY."
Thorn smiled. "YES. Where's QUINT?"
"What did…where's Greg and Chris?"
"Naughty boy…those were the thugs you sent to…what did you call it? 'Give her the old one-two?' They did what I told them to and gave you up. You'll find what's left of them in your dumpster."
Stevie STARED at her. "…why? Why did you…"
"Because they ALSO tried to do what YOU told them to do FIRST. WHERE IS QUINT?"

Of all the things that would get Sunny moving, it wasn't the possible stabbing in the back room or even the shouting that was following. It was Sarah being dragged in. Perhaps a little flashback to young things being manhandled that had her already reaching for her empty glass just in time for Sarah to be shoved down into the booth rather then being dragged away.

Alright, no immediate bar brawls to follow at her hand. "You alright?" she calls to the younger woman, tilting her head and glancing to Scandal as the volume continues from the room further in. "No kidding."

Scandal frowns sharply at the bouncer, her grip tightening on her bottle… but when he releases Sarah and goes to deal with an evidently-serious issue behind the scenes, she relaxes a touch. Rather diffidently, the half-native raises her free hand in the Apache's direction, offering a greeting - and an implicit invitation to indicate whether she wants any help. She remains silent for the time being, to let Sarah provide an answer to Sunny's question, if she wants to. And to listen to the sounds from off-stage.

Sarah pushes herself to her feet. "Asshole!" she snaps after the bouncer, wincing as she rubs her hip where she nailed the table on the way down. She nods slightly to Sunny, her eyes flashing with temper, before the bartender reaches under the bar and lifts up a sawed off shotgun, racking it. "Siddown, Poocahontas." he says sharply, then glances towards the office. Sarah gets a furious expression. "What the hell did you call me?!?"

Stevie begins to tremble. "I don't know! He contacts me by phone ONLY. Never the same number twice!"
Thorn frowns darkly. He is telling the truth. Someone like Quint is not stupid enough to give a weasel like this his actual number. And apparently losing his hand made his more careful…

*Whuh…huh…Thorn? What are you doing?*

DAMMIT. Rose was waking up.
Thorn suddenly grabbed the .38 from the drawer. "I believe you, Stevie. Back door through that way?"
Stevie nodded quickly. If she was asking for a back door, she was most likely looking for an escape. "Y-y-yeah…"
Thorn nodded. "But before I go…have to give you what you tried to give me."
She put the barrel of the pistol on Stevie's left kneecap and fired. "One."
Pain boiled up Stevie's body like his knee had been dipped in hot lead. Then he felt the hot barrel against his other knee and was able to say "NO!" once before she blew his other kneecap off.
"Two."
She tossed the gun in the corner and headed for the back door.

Well, now they were doing that. That sawed-off shotgun coming up has Sunny's own hand flick her coat aside and rest on the now-revealed grip of her revolver for a moment, if only for the moment of personal threat if that shotgun gets pointed the wrong way. Of course, thanks to the position of the bar, it was rather unlikely anyone but the other two women would see her little reveal. "Words hurt Mr, perhaps you should be a little more pol-" she begins, but the sound of the gunshot has her cut off before she was cut off by the all-to-familiar sound of a gunshot. "Ah hell…"

Scandal's brows lift as 'Pocahontas' gets referenced. Then the gunshots come, and, well, her *first* thought is to wonder whether she should shrug out of her jacket. She *likes* it. It's a new purchase. She doesn't want holes in it. But the shooting stops at two, and Sunny's not drawn *her* pistol yet, so perhaps things won't get any messier than they already are. "Buddy - call nine-one-one, or go and play hero in the back. Either way, *we're* not your big problem right now," she calls to him, spreading her hands in plain view to avoid seeming threatening.

The bouncer makes it to the back hall that contains the back door and the office, heading for the office as he reaches under the back of his hoodie, pulling out a 9mm and racking the slide of the gun as he approaches, holding it one-handed as he brings it to bear on the door. The bartender twitches, swinging around to point the shotgun in a Sunny-ly direction as she bares her gun as well, his eyes getting a little wider and his fingers tightening nervously around it, before Scandal speaks up. With a curse, he snaps. 'None of you go nowhere!" Then reaches for the phone.

The bouncer opted to attend to the more pressing need to see about the welfare of his boss, who is now screaming like a Japanese schoolgirl being freshly violated by a tentacle. There is another bang, but it is of the heavy door to the alley and not another gunshot. By the time he reaches the office, Stevie has fallen off the chair, moaning in pain.

Thorn ran, fleet as a deer in the high heels, until she got to the passenger-side door of the old car. Then she leaned against the door of the car, and closed those dark green eyes.

Rose opened her eyes, a clear startled blue, and looked around. She was in an alley. Why was she in an alley? Why did she smell gunpowder?
She asked wonderingly, "Ohhh, Thorn, what did you make me do?"
Then she looked down at herself and gave a tiny shriek, putting her arms over the front of her torso in a vain attempt to cover herself.
"THORN…WHAT did you make me WEAR?!"

Sunny actually sighed…then she moved. She moved a lot faster than one would expect, suddenly pushing that shotgun straight up and pointing it towards the roof rather than at the trio. Her grip? It was impossibly strong for a woman of her build should the bartender try and push back. There was also the barrel of a engraved and immaculate revolver pressed against the bridge of his nose. "Don't be rude now," she speaks calmly, pulling the gun from the man's hands and then giving her own a showy twirl. "People have been killed for stuff like that."

She actually winks at the poor man before setting the shotgun down on the floor and glancing towards Scandal, then Sarah in turn. "Don't know about you two? But I think it's best we leave our friends here to clean up."

Scandal's brows lift again, and she tries to exchange a look with Sarah (of the 'did you see that? *I'm* surprised' kind), before offering a smile and a nod to Sunny - seemingly quite unfazed by the firearms on display. "I think his time's better spent rendering first aid than keeping an eye on us, for sure," she agrees. "I'll just quietly go away and not be part of any trouble here."

Sarah stiffens as the bartender starts to call the police, then her eyes widen as Sunny handily disarms him, tensing a bit. She nods a little to Scandal as she catches her eye, nodding slightly, then says, "…yeah. That sounds like a plan." The bartender stares wideyed, his eyes crossing as he tries to look at the barrel pressed to his head. Some of the other denizens of the bar are also flooding towards the door, not really wanting to be here when the police arrive to question everyone about what happened. Sarah starts retreating towards the door. "Let's get out of here, huh?" She starts making for the door.

Rose had to get out of here! Someone could see her wearing…THIS.
She got into the car, and saw a long t-shirt with a post-it note that said WEAR ME. On the steering wheel was another note: DRIVE HOME IN ME.
Rose thought some VERY BAD thoughts about Thorn as she put the t-shirt on over her scandalous top. She started the car and drove out of the alley, trying to get out of there as fast as legally possible.

As the bouncer called for an ambulance, he spotted a small note left on the desk, a half-page of paper with typed lines on it. Most likely printed beforehand…

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,
she was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

The last word is crossed out in red, with another word written in jagged red lines below it.

"BETTER."

Blowing a kiss to the bartender, Sunny was out the door with an adjustment of her coat. Just like that, the weapons were mostly hidden again and she was on her way, although she does linger in the doorway long enough for Sarah and Scandal to catch up or even pass her if they wished. Of course, she does spot the car tearing away, but the blonde bombshell had heard enough to figure the man in the room back there was still breathing (or screaming). She'll let it be today.

Starting her stroll down the pavement that made it pretty clear she didn't bring a car rather quickly, Sunny's arms lazily stretch to rest behind her head. "So much for a quiet drink…" she muses aloud.

Scandal also heads for the door - taking the remains of her beer with her. There's no great rush, and she's perfectly happy to let the others get outside before her, but she's evidently got no burning desire to hang around for the police either. "Well, it was more 'interesting' than I expected for my own 'quiet drink'," she admits to the blonde, venturing a smile at both her and Sarah.

Sarah mutters as she slips out with the other two women, hands in her hoodie. "I should /know/ better than trying to get a quiet drink…" she notes, grousing as she slips out, long strides eating up the walk as she moves with the two to get well clear of the bar and immediate area. She glances over at the pair, then says. "…thanks. You didn't have to speak up for me. I won't forget."

"Well," the blonde in the duster shrugs lightly, letting her arms fall to her sides once more only to nudge Sarah on the way down. "Wasn't much of a thing, don't deserve to be man-handled like that." A pause, Sunny's lips come to a grin. "Wasn't even the most violent I've seen something like that go."

Scandal shrugs broadly, offering a somewhat sheepish smile. "Trying to turn over a new leaf, and all that," she explains. "I'm glad it didn't spread. Whoever she was, she seemed a little out of control. But I don't think I'll be hurrying back to this particular bar any time soon."

"Ya think?" Sarah says dryly. "I mean, I wasn't sure from all the screaming and gunshots in the back room, but if you say so, that she might have been a /little/ out of control." She shakes her head. "Yeah, seems like the wrong kind of place if it draws…I don't know what that girl was. Hit girl? Vigilante? Something?" She shrugs her shoulders, then eyes the pair on either side of her. Mostly Sunny at the moment, since she was the one who pulled the shiny revolver.

"More likely some sort of 'Strong man'…uh, woman." A tilt of her head and Sunny is left to consider the term for a half-second before shrugging the thought away. "Left the guy alive, so either she was asking questions or sending a message." A beat, the woman chews her bottom lip. "Or just crazy anyway." For Sarah's staring? Sunny hadn't even considered it might be due to the weapon. Instead she simply glances towards Scandal and gives a laugh. "Drinks weren't that great anyway, but I suppose we should apologize to your friend here for ruining her great escape." She gestures to Sarah with a movement of her head and another wink at the younger woman.

Scandal actually looks a bit guilty, perhaps at disappointing Sarah. "It seemed rather personal," she suggests. "If she was there on someone else's behalf, she'd got a big personal stake in it as well. A professional, I'd expect to be more stealthy… but there are some pretty terrifying amateurs around, for sure. And, ahh, yeah. Sorry about that. But we'd best get going before the cops actually turn up, or we'll get drawn into giving statements at the least."

The Apache girl doesn't seem to be disappointed. Just full of snark, probably because she's still a bit cheesed off at the bouncer and bartender's behavior than anything either woman has done. She holds up her hands. "Hey, I am really totally okay with not being near a place where someone feels they need to send hitgirls to, professional or otherwise. I really don't need to have a chat with the local police…' She cuts herself off, before she says more. "Ah, well…maybe something to eat? I know a nice food truck that's not far. Genuine southwestern food."

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