"By all means" Luciel mumbled, stepping out of the car at the same time with Twombly. He was careful to ease Aeron down onto the seat and lock the doors as he watched the maned wolf walk off around the corner. His hands shook as he looked at his reflection in the tinted SUV windows, pulling the scarf up over his nose and taking a deep breath while closing his eyes.
Soir de Lune, series five...discontinued. The ghost of a cool autumn day with sap fresh on pine teased my senses where there was only the scent of mint on my breath I had after lunch, woven into the old fabric. My eyes opened lightly, meeting the apathetic glare of the figure looking back at me. Silently, I offered them a nod which they responded to with a raised eyebrow as if to urge me to 'get on with it'. There was no arguing with myself as we all wanted the same thing, and it started with the voices from around the corner as Twombly engaged the salamanders.
The lookouts snapped to attention as Twombly addressed them, quickly losing interest after seeing it wasn't who they thought it was. "Something like that" one of them offered as another crossed its arms, already annoyed by the distraction. The one with the exposed gun picked up on the glance, pulling their shirt over the weapon before glaring at Twombly, challengingly. "Who wasn't? The tart has the capacity for everyone in the bar" they excused, poorly lying for the fact that there was no way 'Kaite' could have made an appearance while Ansel was tending the bar. "Can we help you?" the third lizard growled in a tone that was insisting Twombly's answer was 'no, and I'll be on my way'. Which it was, although he was not going to be rushed just because a few ill-paid goons were impatient.
Just then, a loud metallic scrape and crash of a fire escape ladder dropping echoed from the alleyway. After a palpable moment of silence, the first salamander elbowed the one who had the exposed gun. "Gee, I wonder what that was..." he hinted, shooting the lizard a look that made them sigh and walk off while the other two waited patiently. Silence followed after the footsteps betrayed the figure who disappeared around the corner.
It felt like minutes passed, the other two seeming to become uncomfortable from the lack of sounds after footsteps faded. The first of the thugs elbowed the second and went to inspect the alleyway with the other in tow. "Hey Jake! Where are ya!" the second one called, though no response came. The first looked back at Twombly before barking, "You! Get over here", intending on using him as some kind of bait.
Twombly immediately scoffed in frustration, as his patience with these lackeys was starting to grow thin. "What is it now? An alley-cat got you guys scared. Come, I'll show you..." He said, brushing right past them as he drew his three kilogram "sidearm" and leveled it at the dumpster. "You think what's frightening you is peering at you from the top of that dumpster?" He asked, loudly and clearly annoyed at their lack of fool-hardiness making Luciel's plan to ambush them all one at a time go out the window; however it was quickly established that his question was both rhetorical, and not uttered for their benefit as he quickly tapped out three silenced rounds just a few inches below the lip of the dumpster.
"If your boogeyman is still there. I am sure he isn't going to be very happy about the new vents I gave them. But that's not what you were supposed to be afraid of..." He said, as he swung his gun back around and leveled it at the one furthest from him, a series of claws ripping into the throat of a salamander that just happened to be standing a bit too close to him.
"You have any idea who I am? You do NOT get to ask me to do YOUR JOB." He demanded, "EVER!" he punctuated this point by popping another round into the last standing salamander's kneecap "Now if you and your friend book it to the nearest hospital, you both may actually get there before either of you bleed-out."
The salamanders looked in confusion as Twombly drew his gun and let loose a short volley of rounds into the dumpster. One of them elbowed the other, "Didn't the boss say something about a black SUV?", his voice wavering with stress before the maned wolf whirled around to set steel to bone after shredding the neck of one of the lizards. Their cries echoed down the alleyway and streets as they writhed on the ground. "AGH! Wh-what the fuck!" the kneecapped salamander wailed, struggling to apply pressure to stop the bleeding of his associate, fumbling with a phone. "Come on, Neal! Stay with me!" he barked, shooting Twombly a glare that spelled a malicious intent if he hadn't been helping to control the bleeding and dialing. "Its my brother! No, some other..." he began to say before his expression softened to terror moments before a nearly inaudible click scattered circuitry, flesh and blood onto the pavement, followed soon by the salamander's motionless body.
From the alleyway limped Luciel, sleeves rolled up and blood on his gloves. One hand lowered his weapon of choice while the other firmly gripped a jar wrapped in duct tape. He stood a fair ways away, looking at the scene of the dead salamander laying over the other who was quickly bleeding out. The faint chirp of a voice emitted from the phone and the jackalope trudged over, gently setting the jar down to pick up the phone, wiping the blood from the receiver before bringing it up to his head. A tired yet peacefully amused glare bored into the building across the street from Luciel.
"Hello" he politely began, speaking into the phone while holstering his weapon and grabbing a handful of shirt to begin dragging the dead salamander into the alleyway. "...Am I speaking to the intruders in my home?" He continued, turning back after a long moment of silence, dumping the body behind the dumpster. While he walked back, he took a moment to press a pinky-finger into the bullet holes and look up at Twombly with an unimpressed glare. "By now you may be wondering, 'what does he have in those jars in the fridge'?" Luciel cooed before hanging up and tossing the phone over his shoulder without breaking eye contact with the maned wolf.
Looking down at the mess for a moment, he sighed and put a round through the suffering Salamander's head. "Gee, thanks for engaging the lookouts in broad daylight, Twombly" he goofily said, making his disappointment clear through sarcasm while lowering himself to pick up the wrapped jar and sniffled as he looked over the second body. Clearing his throat, an ear flicked before he turned around to where he'd pulled down the fire escape ladder. "Well darn, I guess" he simply chirped, turning to do his best in the way of hurrying towards the ladder, stuffing the small jar into a pocket before beginning to climb.
Twombly shrugged at Luciel's glowing disapproval, "I could just say they tried to mug me, brought a knife to a gunfight and lost. Shit like that happens all the time." He excused himself as he picked-up the obvious revolver from the salamander, wasn't like he was going to need it anymore, and it paid to have a new-york reload tucked into his sock when visiting an active kill-house.
The climb behind the jackalope was simple enough after tossing his slung AKS74U over his shoulder, hanging roughly by his side for something resembling a quick-draw without banging it against the rungs like the typical 3-point sling with rifle hung in front. He was starting to get curious about what was in those jars now that Luciel mentioned them, but figured it could wait until they'd have more time to move things out of the apartment.
Luciel sighed at Twombly's dismissal of his concern. Complying with the wave of a hand, he turned to set the jar behind the dumpster and begin to muscle his way up the ladder before the first few stretches of steps. Thankfully, the jackalope lived on the sixth floor, so there wasn't much effort to worry about. Occasionally, he'd peek in a window before darting past in a manner that seemed cautiously tactical enough, though obviously self taught by his franticness in the motions.
"I assume you have done stuff like this in the past, Twombly?" Luciel began, trying to make conversation as the silence was uncomfortable for the sociopath in this unique instance. Without waiting for much of an answer, he continued without looking away from his work of limping up stairs and peeking into windows, "Oh! And I hope the unexpected turn of events does not put you off, I sincerely would have had you and Miss Khalil over if I knew...well."
The words caught in his throat as he had time to mull the situation over, obviously still upset on some level with the last few hours and how his web of lies was being washed out the spout.
Unlike the jackalope, the maned-wolf did not move as though he thought he was trespassing, more like he was merely window-shopping for a new carpeting, just happening to admire the quaint figurines in their darkened domiciles as they each went about their daily rounds, giving a nod of besmirched approval so they wouldn't feel let-down as they passed, yet not feel threatened with any feelings of hostile jealousy; a good thing since he happened to have a kalisnikov in plain view.
Twombly continued trying -and succeeding- at looking nonchalant, as though simply on an evening stroll to silently peruse through everybody's windows until Luciel commented at how routine these things seemed to him, clearly distressed more than he was impressed... there weren't enough hugs in the world for him... Twombly thought to himself as he stacked-up close behind Luciel so he could answer with a hushed voice in his ear: "The first rule of surviving out in the wastes is not to be seen, this everyone knows. But the second one is then not to be suspected when you inevitably are being watched." He then gave Luciel a pat on the shoulder, reminding him that he was on-point for this, but making sure not to push him into anything he didn't feel was right; not until he was ready.
As they ascended, Luciel endeavored to soften his steps and hesitate at about the fourth floor. In a perfect world, he would have faith in his abilities to break into his own home and take the trespassers by surprise. However, the racket from trying to get into his wood-glued-shut window would certainly complicate things as anyone on the street below would need to look up and see them. Given the intent of his taunt, he could be sure that someone was likely on their way to check on the watch.
With a discontent sigh, he listened to Twombly's talk of the wastes which he had never visited. The simple lessons were learned early after his freedom, and the streets didn't seem too much different from his associate's apparent domain of operations. "I have never been to the wastes..." he muttered as he assessed the situation with hands on his hips, an ear flicking from Twombly's voice. "...ehn I am better vith hidink in plain sight zehn zeis mess" he continued in a contemplative manner, casually tossing out his best 'Kaitra' before coming to window and unapologetically peering inside. Content with not seeing anyone, he tried the window which was obviously locked.
He lifted an eyebrow, scoffing a small 'tch' before drawing an axe and wedging it into the frame. Holding it in place with a foot, Luciel braced himself against the railing to press his other foot into the notch between the handle and back-spike. "Knock knock" he playfully chirped before kicking in the frame with a loud metallic pop of old screws being pried from equally old wood. The axe clattered to the grated floor of the fire escape as he aimed another kick to bash the window in. The plan worked, more or less, as the hinges bent from the weight of the window swinging inward.
Without a moment of hesitation, Luciel picked up the axe and jumped into the room. This wasn't the best of ideas as a leg buckled, accompanied by a growl of a yelp as the jackalope crumpled to the floor. This lasted maybe an instant before he wheeled around with Sandcastle as he surveyed the apartment he'd broken into. Thankfully, whoever owned it seemed to be away. Any other day and Luci would have considered this a score in the way of free shit, but there was business to take care of and this was no time for laying about or petty theft. "That could have gone better" he awkwardly chuckled, turning his ankles to makes sure everything was in working order before dragging himself to a wall to aid in his efforts to stand himself back up.
Luciel's humors were sobered by the sounds of a set of footsteps hurrying down the hall along with a voice, "It was one of these rooms, I'm sure! The little bitch must have went up the fire escape." Soon, it was joined by a second gruff voice, "The look outs would have-" before being cut off by a third voice. "The lookouts are dead, you idiot!" and then the voice lowered, "And stop shaking, 'Angel' is just a name. Nothing bullets can't handle."
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