Summary:Local thugs try to put the muscle on Mama Iffy's. A Spider and an Ori stop them. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
The night went well. The restaurant closed up and it was midnight. Ifede was there, sitting at a booth upon her laptop, having a bit of coffee at this kind of night with a dash of chickory. Aaron was already there, having been there most of the night, quite possibly to watch over Ifede while she makes it a long night to keep her company.
Or safe.
Didn't matter. It was all good; the conversation was easy, the laughs were had, Aaron would be put to work while she clacked away at her computer. Stacks of money were laid out upon the table, counted.. banded.. inputted.. redone again. "Donu have school tomorroah?" She asks, inputting.. tip-typing.. "Tis gonna be a while. You not have to stay."
*
"I'm a bit of a night owl," Aaron replies, sipping at his own coffee while he watches Ifede go about her work. He had made himself useful throughout the night as needed; just because he's an academic doesn't mean he's above bussing tables or washing dishes, and sometimes the menial tasks can be relaxing in their way. Sleeves are rolled up, probably because they got either wet, dirty, or both, and he's seated not far from where Ifede is counting the day's take. "Besides, if I leave now, I miss the best part of the night," he says with a bit of a grin. "The quiet is nice."
*
"And what's the best part of the night, mmh?" Ifede asks, her eyes searching the keyboard, double checking. She -hates- using Microsoft, and does make a note of someone to hire to do the books. A nice trust-worthy intern, or someone she could scare the devil out of.
"You not getting any sex because you broke tables down anna sweep the floor." She grins, and nearly laughs, but she doesn't. The coffee was sipped again, until there was a quiet knock at the door. Iffie stops what she was doing, looking towards Aaron and then towards the door, her hand lifting to give him pause as she slowly slides from the booth. "Don't move." She says. "I got it. Peopa ain' gonna take kindly to no white man in dis neighborhood dis time o'the night." She snorts loudly. "Tink you a narc or something."
She gives herself a good stretch as she slowly approaches the door. The curtains were drawn, and she really couldn't see who was outside…
*
"I wouldn't presume," Aaron smirks, and takes another sip of his coffee without taking his eyes off the woman. The knock at the door draws his attention as well, though he doesn't move, per instructions. The last thing he wants is to make trouble for Ifede in her own establishment, so he just nods to her before she gets up, though he does make sure to keep an eye. Knocks on restaurant doors after closing, this time of night, might not always be bad news, but they rarely portend anything good.
*
No. It was nothing good. As soon as she grasps the door handle to tug it open just a little, a loud blast knocks the door open but not off of it's hinges. Ifede gets rocked backwards and off of her feet, sliding back onto her bottom as she stares in shock at the oncoming offenders. There were four of them.
All large men in masks, while larger than Iffie, varying in size. It was clear that the bigger one was the leader, he carried the shotgun that was racked and pointed at the woman while he addressed the other three. "You gonna learn how we do things on this side of Harlem, bitch! Goon, get that money off that table! Man-Man, take your shit and get to the safe. Poo, get -THAT- mutherfucker out of here, kill 'em if you gotta.."
"No no no!" Ifede pleaded, keeping her hands up. "You got no quarrel with 'em! Leave 'em be!"
"SHUT UP! You shoulda paid the goddamned fee when I asked and you wouldn't be in this shit!"
*
Oh for fucks sake. Aaron is on his feet in an instant when the door is blasted open, a steak knife stealthily palmed from the table, but since there's a shotgun levelled at Ifede he can't exactly charge in. He's fast, but he's not -that- fast. "Just do what they say," he says quietly to Iffy, moving slowly toward her and the invaders, hoping he can get between them. His hands go behind his head, concealing the knife for the time being. He's not looking to get shot today, but more importantly, keeping Iffy from getting hurt is priority one. "This is hardly fair, guys. Four of you, one of me. And you're well-armed, obviously prepared for this, while I'm.. well, just me?" Talking, hoping to keep them focused on him. His eyes are on the shotgun, while he hopes his reflexes will be fast enough for when that trigger-finger inevitably becomes twitchy.
*
The ringleader keeps his gun trained on Iffie while she remains on the ground. She says nothing after her plead, carefully watching the three and their mannerisms. They had their marching orders, and it was clear that they followed directions to the T as one starts moving towards the table with all the money. The duffle bag in hand, he slowly sweeps the money into the bag, while the other cackles and moves off to search for the safe. The one that was supposed to take care of Aaron, didn't notice that there was a knife in hand. He was ready for the business.
"Shut the fuck up, boy." The man says, now turning the shotgun towards Aaron, "I'm going to blast you to hell if you say another fucking word." Aaron got what he wanted.. the focus was on him.. which is when Iffie makes her move. Her hands draw up, creating a quick sigil with her fingers, added with a shout.. "IGNIS MICO!"
The room shakes; a half a second of trembling, followed by a loud bang which produces a blinding flash of light! She didn't have time to tell him to close his eyes, so she had to act quick!
*
Thank god for spider-reflexes and generally heightened awareness! Aaron manages to block his eyes from the blinding flash, and uses the distraction to swiftly kick the gun out of the leader's hand, sending it skittering across the floor back toward the door. Completing the turn, he lands another solid kick to the man's chest, probably breaking a couple ribs, but also knocking him a few feet in the other direction. The knife is wielded defensively, expecting the next assailant to make a move. "IFFY I HAVE QUESTIONS!" He shouts to the woman, though there's no hint of anger on his face; as a matter of fact, he almost appears to be enjoying the tussle. It's been a while since he got to stretch these muscles. Who's next?
*
The men all cringe and nearly fall over from the blast. Sure, he has questions, but Ifede doesn't mind! She was never one to hide her gifts from the world; hell, no one has ever asked. -HOWEVER- the questions needed to be asked of him, because Aaron was still moving! He wasn't even cringing from the blast that blinded the others, he was a man on fire. "Ask later!" She says, quickly scrambling to her feet.
The man who held the shotgun, who was now on the floor, tries to slowly crawl to his feet. One hand pressed against the eye, the other searching for the shotgun which was clearly across the room.
"Son of a bitch!"
The other man who gathered the money, kept both palms pressed against his eyes as he screams out, which drew Ifede's attention. With a rush to the table, and a grab of her coffee mug, the liquid was sloshed as she draws back and smashes it into the side of the guys head, hoping to bring him down.
The other who went to get the safe, he watches on with fear, hidden from sight.
*
"Okay!" Aaron shouts back, as Ifede smashes 'Goon' with the coffee cup. Precious coffee spilled! Probably some burns too, because hot. 'Poo' meanwhile, gains Aaron's attention, and he flips the knife around into a more offensive stance. "You guys have dumb names, you know that, right? Goon? Poo? Man-Man? Are you named after your favourite cave-men? I thought gangsters were supposed to have -cool- names. Scarface, Fingers, Shades, Jimmy the Tulip. Well, maybe not that last one." Meanwhile he closes the distance between them, watching for any sign that he might try to attack first. "Two down. You and your buddy want to get out of here, or take your chances?"
*
The guy smashed with the coffee cup was on the ground holding his head, it was clear that these guys used their size to intimidate, but in an actual fight, they could have been something if their worlds weren't rocked immediately. Not to mention, they weren't expecting a fight. Even though Ifede's hand was bleeding from the glass, she shakes it off and steps back, her fists curling and ready for a brawl. It seems like the flash, the kicks and broken ribs, and the other guy hiding were clearly not ready for it. They were not ready!
"Fuck you man.." The ring-leader says.. spitting up blood. He was going to need to go to the hospital.
"Alright, dats enough!" Ifede snaps, clapping her hands together that sends a minor shockwave through the cafe. The men all make a sound, as one by one they were lifted from the ground through an unseen force. Their bodies were dragged, struggling to the center of the cafe, Ifede using her hands to guide them 'helpfully' towards the door.
"You all tell de bossman dat dere be no offering of protection from this here 'stablishment. Ya come here again, I send ya straight ta hell where da Devil feasts on ya insides!"
The men say nothing, but it was clear they were scowling, and with a push.. they were blasted out the door! Weapons were left behind, as well as the money, dignities were not in tact. Not at all. They were bested by one guy and a girl, even when they clearly had the advantage.
*
Aaron is buffeted by the shockwave as well, but holds his footing well enough to not fall over. That'd be embarrassing, considering the show he just put on. He watches in no small amount of awe as the attackers are lifted and shown the door through forces unknown, but he can't help but let a little smirk crack through when she threatens them. Not that he doesn't think she can follow through; now he's seen some things. Once they're gone, he stands in silence a moment, looking at the woman in a new light. "Remind me not to piss you off," he jokes.
*
Ifede lets out a sigh, her hands shaking as she approaches the double doors to slam them shut and lock them. There wasn't too much damage from the initial entry, just chipped wood that makes the shop look a bit too ragged for her tastes. She'll fix that tomorrow.
"Ah.." Ifede says with a grin. "..women say the same thing all the time." She comments, gesturing towards the counter. "Towel please? Got glass in me hand." She moves to the booth to sit, opening up her palm to examine and hiss. "So you martial artist, no? Never have I seen a martial artist move too fast. You move fast for a man. Not say that women are faster but no man no woman are fast. Me blink and guy cross the room!" She cackles, then quiets. Ow. Adrenaline was going down hard.
*
Aaron grabs a towel, and moves to the booth to sit next to Ifede. "Let me take a look. I'm a doctor." Dry humour is the best humour. He's not that kind of doctor, but he can at least perform regular first aid. If she'll let him, of course. "I've had some training, yeah," he says, a bit hesitantly. But then, considering she just blew a group of men out the door with what he assumes to be magic, he loosens up on the secretiveness. "Actually, I'm genetically part spider," he says quite flatly. "Faster, stronger, and I can climb up walls." She may have heard of Spider-Man. Apparently he's a bit of a name in this town. But that's not him. "But you. Magic? Mutant? Miniature flash-grenades and anti-gravity fields?" Explanations!
*
Ifede doesn't stop him from looking at her hand, she offers it up without resistance, giving a little smirk to his comment then lets out a huff at his story. "So you Spider-Man?" She asks. "I always thought he be smaller. Look too skinny, does need to visit this place and get a home cooked meal." She comments, but she does wince in anticipation for him to pick the glass out of her hand.
"Magic." She states, correcting her accent. It was more americanized, with a bit of a french lilt. It was clear she had to focus to practice on it, but it would make words translate easier. "Highly doubt that I am a mutant. S'all magic, right down to the bone." She purses her lips together, then presses on. "Voodoo, in simpler terms."
*
"Not that Spider-Man, no. Different Spider-Man. I actually haven't put on the outfit since I got here.. sounds like it's kind of a crowded market around here." Aaron is able to focus on a couple things at a time, and while he talks he works at pulling the shards of glass out of Iffy's hand, using the towel to keep the blood under control. "I know nothing about voodoo," he says rather casually in response to her admission about her powers. "Aside from what you see in movies or read in old novels. Can't imagine much of that is really accurate, though." Yep, he's not fazed. "Something that runs in your family?" Ever the scientist, he's immediately wondering if there's a genetic component.
*
"Really? I've only seen one." Ifede comments, even mouthing a little bit of an 'ow'. One hand lifts to rest her chin upon his palm, leaning a little bit to the side, her head shaking. "This is a waste of time." But.. she was going to let him waste his time. Why not? He was cute!
"You can say it was a family thing. Can tell you a tale." She didn't ask for permission, she was going to talk. "I come from Yoruba. Not American born. Back where I am from, the small village feeds off of the spirits of Orisha. They worship them daily, base their lives around the spirits. And sometimes, those spirits choose one to be their keeper." She shrugs her shoulders.
"That day, they make it known that the blessed shall be worshipped as a god. For he or she can call the gods by ritual or word. And that chosen is sometimes killed and hunted for the power they possess. And if not killed nor hunted, sacrificed so village can continue to prosper til another Orisha is chosen." She continues. "Much like the albino bebe, how they take children body parts and eat them, that's how the 'gods' are regarded. So sometime, they take the bebe, move somewhere safe for them to live out their days. Til the bad man come looking. Or the universe come knocking." She grins.
"Them peopa that were chosen, die eventually. Yoruba religion, voodoo, santoria.. all of it call for a balance. Us Ori cannot live longer than the age of thirty five. Or.. as.. the .." She snaps her fingers, looking for a compatible word.. "..religion state, the orisha walk the earth to remake the world new?" She smacks her lips. "Ga. Need to teach you Yoruba. Easier to conversate. You know French?"
*
"It's not a waste of time, Iffy. If we don't get the foreign matter out, clean the wound, and allow it to heal properly, it could get infected and become septic," Aaron says rather matter-of-factly. But then he'll listen to her story, all while he continues to work, picking the bits of glass out as he finds them, no matter how small. His hands are incredibly steady, and he's finding shards small enough that even proper surgeons would be likely to miss. He could have gone that route himself, easily.
Aaron nods along as she explains, but shakes his head when she asks about his French. "Just what I remember from high school. Je m'appelle Aaron Aikman, je suis un American, ou est la bibliotheque?" He snaps a bit of a smirk. "Can't live past thirty-five? That's not a very positive prognosis." He frowns at that. "I'm not sure how I'd be able to handle knowing my life had a.. an expiration date." He picks one last piece of glass out of her hand, and wraps the towel around it. "There. We need to get it cleaned, and wrapped in a proper bandage."
*
She could have went downstairs to get some herbs to heal, which.. "Tis. You should see my basement.." Though she trusted him, they weren't going to go there just yet. But listening to his French made her giggle a lot, her free hand covering her mouth as she tries her best not to rock to the side. It was a good feeling, this, especially after an attack that could have went horribly if she was by herself.
"Tink about it." She says, then clears up her accent again. "You see all of these people on the television, how they make movies and make light of heroes. No one thinks how hard of an end they'll have if they get up with the wrong one." She purses her lips. "Being da keeper is much like the same. Cept that our deaths are guaranteed or the whole world burns. We must burn in their place." She nods, insuiating that use, she's going to go to hell.
She pulls her hand back to rest it against her chest as she slides from the booth, gesturing him to follow her to the kitchen. "You'd want to live life hard and fast as possible. Right now? I do what I love. Feed people, make money, meet more and lots of sex."
*
Aaron nods slowly, at least when she explains the bit about burning. That's a dark outlook. But, he gets up when she motions for him to follow, and the smile returns to his face at her final comments. "That's a philosophy I can definitely get on board with."
*