#//fc for petal popovitch is lady gaga

[ephrampettaline]

chatzy au log with @alessafalling, @bumblingbrujo, @cassiegermaine, @ephrampettaline, @isadelavega, and @joeyvoeman

The car was parked a little ways down the block and across the street from the designated halfway house as to not be obvious, but still close enough to keep an eye on everything. Everything about this exchange was planned down to the last moment. Admittedly, with Joey at her side Cassie was a bit out of her element. She had wanted to make the Clair de Lune transfer a bit more face to face. Legitimate, if one were to stretch the definition. But Ephram clearly had other ideas. She sighed heavily, resting her cheek against the car window, eyes still trained on the building, "We aren't supposed to go till a light flickers in the upper right room."

Joey sat in the driver's seat of the car leaning against the wheel, and he took the opportunity to steal a few glances at Cassie's profile as she gazed on at the house in the distance. "I know," he muttered. Not condescending in any way. He knew repeating the plan was a valid way to pass the time. "And once we see it we pull in back to unload." He sighed, snatching his flat cap off his head and scratching his short hair for a moment. "How have you been, Cassie? It's been a while since we've been..." he didn't finish the sentence, letting it hang in the air like humidity weighing down on them.

"Right." Cassie murmured. It was an akward close space for the two of them, but she was happy to stew in the strained silence for the good of business. Of course, Joey couldn't resist, and it's not like Cassie could right out ignore him. She glanced to the tall man slouched in the drivers seat and gave half a grin. "Yeah. Don't think for a moment that is unintentional. Though I feel like Ephram is punishing me, more than you." Her gaze dropped to Joey's discarded hat, "Not a punishment. It's..." Cassie quickly corrected, sneering slightly, "Not business. Come on Joey, spare me till the guns are moved."

Joey nodded slowly, gripping his hat in his hand a bit tighter than he'd meant to, wrinkling the fabric under the pressure. "'Course," he muttered, completely ignoring her correction in his mind. She saw him as a punishment. That made sense. Seeing her felt like punishment to him. Ephram sure knew how to get under the skin of those around him. Turn the thumbscrews tighter as his victims just bit back their screams, smiled, and said 'yes sir'. "Till the guns are moved. Right. Until you move the finish line again." His tone was a bit more biting. They had nothing to do but stew as they waited, and Joey couldn't help his feelings boiling over a bit.

His frustration was possibly the most palpable thing in the car, and while Cassie was well aware it could quickly turn into rage, she wasn't the least bit concerned. Growing up in the Kingfisher household had well dessensitized her to tempers of almost every degree. Still, it didn't mean she wanted the job to prolong any more than necessary, and she caught the bite of Joey's comment as quickly as he threw it. "Someone has to draw the line in everything." Cassie's jaw clenched, and she sat up squinting more intensely at the designated window, "What's taking so damn long?" 

She glanced at her pocket watch again. Her other hand lingered on the car door, she was moments away from doing things her way.

Joey pursed his lips, shoving his hat back on his head. "You're real good at it too," he grumbled to himself. He tried to let the feeling go, but it lingered. It always lingered. To have had her and lost her would always weigh on his mind. But she was partially right, they needed to focus. "What are you thinking?" he asked, eye on her hand on the car door, his tone clear his mind was on the job again.

"I don't...know." Cassie whispered. It's not like she expected Clair de Lune to go south on them. Ruby had always been a solid contact. Unless something else had gone wrong inside, which was always plausible with a halfway house. "Take the car to the back." Cassie instructed him, opening the car door and stepping out. "We're doing this now before the window closes. Be careful. Maybe the cops are sniffing around but, I'm going through the front for better coverage." She shut the door before Joey had a chance to interject, and waved him off. She stuck her hands in her coat and started down the sidewalk. 

She took her time, eyes scanning the area with acute observation. For the most part, the streets were empty, and Cassie gripped the hand rail next to the porch steps to enter Clair de Lune when she felt the cold metal of a gun press into the small of her back. "Let's go Ms. Kingfisher. And no one gets hurt." Cassie shook her head, glancing at her dark blue heels. "I'm meeting a friend." 

The raspy voice chuckled, "We just wanna talk business."

Essie had made the call. She knew the consequences. Hand pressed to her shoulder around the area of where her collarbone ended she stumbles down the street. Passing by a parked car, but she didn't register the inhabitants, too focused on getting to where she was going. She knew the half way house was safe, would be safe with the right kind of cash anyway. Trying to act as casual as possible she pulls her coat around herself, hand still pressed to the wound in her shoulder she tried to walk a little straighter into the establishment. She bought a room for three times it's price to ensure discretion and waited by the front desk for a few requested items she might need to get fixed up.

Miguel had an understanding with the woman who owned the half-way house - he would sometimes check the girls who worked there without a fee, which helped keep her in business - with more of a profit, and healthier gals. And that meant that she would look the other way when other people used the house to meet up with the doctor on a more secretive basis. Miguel wondered, a lot, how his life had gotten so complex. He walked through the house, said hello to some of the residents and regulars. And went looking for whoever was bleeding. Eventually he found his way into a little room with a woman he recognized as the arms dealer, another not quite affiliated troublemaker, like his brother. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked as he set his black bag down and opened it up.

Essie sat on the bed with her spine hunched double. Not quite the posture of a lady, this being the image she usually tried her best to portray when not conducting business. The hint of tears in her eyes were covered by the intense look of anger in them. "Seven point five millimetre shot in my left shoulder." she tells the doctor. "No exit wound." she adds with a cringe as she shifts her shoulder looking up at him.

No exit, that made things interesting at least. Miguel sighed. "Well... Faye isn't going to be thrilled about this. Lay down on your back, on the floor." He got out his scalpel and his forceps and threw them in a disinfecting bath. Then he got out a strip of leather and handed it to Essie. "You're going to want to bit down on that when the time comes." 

Ephram tapped his cigarette into the cut-glass ashtray he'd set next to him on the narrow bed, not overly mindful of keeping the sheets un-ashed as he waited for Isa. His head was still ticking, calculating the way that the weapons handover had gone down -- dwelling on Freddie Watts' involvement and what was in it for the other gangster boss. The past few days had rekindled their friendship, something that Ephram wasn't (for all his hardened heart) entirely immune to, but at the same time ... something he could ill-afford, at this precarious juncture in the Kingfisher family's establishment as the head of the Slap Jacks.

He raised his eyes as the door to the room opened, silent, waiting for Isa to speak first. A cruel greeting, to be sure -- it would plummet her immediately into wondering if she'd fallen into disfavour -- but an impulse Ephram indulged himself in, for the moment.

Isa headed for her room with tea in her hands. She didn't expect anyone for several hours so her plan was to get a bit of rest before one of her regulars showed up at the usual time. When she walked into her room, however, it wasn't empty as she'd expected it to be, instead Ephram was sitting on her bed, smoking and Isa stopped in the doorway for a second in surprise. He wasn't saying anything and it only took Isa a couple of seconds to start worrying that something happened, something that came back to haunt her now. She shut the door behind her swiftly and without a sound, walking over to the desk to place her mug down, trying to mask her discomfort. "Didn't expect you here tonight, Ephram."

Ephram hummed, a low thrum in his throat as he watched Isa attempt to act as if his presence wasn't a concern. "That's the thing about us bad pennies," he murmured, "--we always turn up." He took a drag, saying tightly through the smoke filtering into his lungs, "Don't let me keep you from enjoying your tea. I want an update on where you're at with Councilor Brindle, is all, Isa. Did he tell you if there have been any competing bids for the government charter for brandy shipping, or is Kingfisher still the leading tender?" 

It was a huge prospective deal, and one that the old man had never shown interest in; it was Ephram and Cassie who wanted to mix legitimate business in with the jobs under the counter. Brindle was a lech, but he was also canny, and Ephram wasn't about to assume that merely throwing a beautiful prostitute at the man would eke information out of him. No, he'd chosen somebody clever, too; somebody who could act, somebody who could think on her feet.

Isa hesitated for a moment, not wanting to pick the tea back up just to not seem like she was doing what Ephram said, but at the same time, at least it gave her something to do with her hands, so she ended up picking it back up as she leaned against the table. "He's not easy to get anything out of, Ephram. Most of the time he just complains about his wife and barely talks about anything relating to his work." She felt like she needed to explain why she hasn't gotten all the information needed yet. She needed the money she got from the Slap Jacks, she needed to make sure Ephram didn't think she wasn't capable of getting the information he needed. "I did find out that there are other bids, I think at least one of them is better than yours, but I couldn't get it out of him yet who the bid was from."

Ephram grunted thoughtfully. "Not bad," he said, a verbal pat on the head to let Isa know she wasn't in the doghouse. "I can follow that for the time being." Kingfisher wouldn't revise their bid unasked -- it would do them no good to seem overeager -- but Cassie could start putting out feelers from an accounting side of things. There weren't so many shipping companies in Soapham with the vessels and manpower to handle this sort of big contract. 

Screwing his cigarette into the corner of his mouth, Ephram took a folded wad of bills from his vest pocket, removing the silver money clip and beginning to strap off dollarpound notes with sharp, quick motions. "How's that mother of yours in the country, eh? The one with the sick cow and the ailing hip?" The mother and the cow and the bloody hip could be a complete fiction, for all Ephram knew; but he didn't much care about that. He appreciated people who put some creativity into trying to ootch a little more out of their boss's billfold into their own, especially when they did it with such flair as Isa did. 

Holding out a slightly thicker crease of bills than was strictly warranted, Ephram waited for Isa to approach to take the money and took her hand when she did, pressing the folded paper into her palm. "Take your dress off," he said. "Only the dress." 

Essie grimaces as she stands up and shifts painfully onto the ground, first sitting and gathering her dress around her knees before putting one arm back to ease herself down. Not an easy task with the other hand still holding her shoulder, her back hitting the ground with a little force. She stares right back at the man, taking the leather and holding it simply in her hand for the time being. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."

Miguel looked down at her, a sympathetic sadness in his eyes. How had she gotten into this business? And how many people could he convince to change their ways? "Of course. It's my calling. I come when people need me." He shook his head. If only he had ever learned to say no. Oh well, he needed the cash, who didn't? Was that the only thing that lead people astray like this? He held Essie's good hand with one of his, held it tight. And then he doused her wound in the disinfectant. It burned less than previous iterations, but there was still a bite to it.

Essie recognised what she thought was sympathy in his eyes and she couldn't help but speak. "I got shot but I'm not delicate." she snaps. Steeling her face she moves to stare blandly at the ceiling, however her eyes show her true emotion, pain mixed with the same anger than she'd retained from before. That facade broke when she felt the sting of the disinfectant. "Fuck." she snaps, her fingers closing tightly around his hand, with almost too much force. "Warn a person."

Miguel cleared his throat. "That was just the start, and it's nothing compared to what's next. I'd put the strap in now if I were you." Miguel had been on the front, that was where he was good, field medicine. Doing what he could when he could, and cutting his losses when he had to.

Essie stews for a moment just staring back at the man before closing her eyes and shifting to put the leather in her mouth. "Warnings, at least let me know when you're going to do something so I can be ready." she requests. Teeth clamping down on the leather she opens her eyes again. This time watching his hands.

Miguel nodded once Essie's eyes were open. Then he took his scalpel and his forceps and dug into her shoulder. He tried to do as little damage as possible, but it was hard when the flesh was already inflamed. Not getting the bullet out would be worse. The chance of infection would be high. So he kept going, until his hands came back bloody, a big piece of shrapnel in his grasp. He poured more disinfectant in the wound and let it soak before he got out the needle, driver, and thread. "Alright. Just a couple stitches to keep it closed." There would be a puckered scar, but she would live. She would need water and rest, but the halfway house could provide those.

Essie keeps her jaw tense so as not to make any noise. It's difficult. The entire process excruciating but she keeps her eyes locked on the process taking place on her shoulder. She focuses on hand movements and after the bullet is out she lets her eyes follow it as something to hold onto. Tears leak out the corners of her eyes unable to stop them, unable to wipe them away either as they trail down the sides of her face. "Just do it fast." she says muffled around the leather in her mouth.

The stitches took no time at all. One, two, and knot. Miguel wiped at her wound and squeezed her arm. "All done. Drink a lot of liquids and rest. You need it. I'll clean up."

Essie sits up slowly. A hand moving up to hover over the stitches in her arm changing direction last second to instead tug on her blood soaked clothing. The hole in her dress causing her to grimace, but able to ignore the pain now that she wasn't so worried about blood loss. "How much?" she asks the doctor. "For your services and your silence?"

Miguel sighed. He hated this part. "This covers my time and supplies." He wrote a number on his pad and left it on the nightstand. "You don't have to pay extra for silence." He started rolling up the carpet, it was thoroughly ruined. But it was easier to replace the rug than get the stains out of the wood floor.

Essie eyes the doctor and glances at the price. "Who are you loyal to?" she asks him. Making to stand up and out of his way. Pleased that she would not have to do the cleanup and that this certain job he would do without being asked. Shrugging her coat back on with slowed movements she watched him move around the room. "I won't be staying here though."

"The Hippocratic Oath," Miguel grumbled. "I help everyone. I don't have loyalty to any one family." He hefted the rug over his shoulder and started out of the room. "Wherever you do it, Essie. Be safe."

Joey opened his mouth to protest but Cassie was already gone before he could stop her. He knew not to argue with her in most cases, and she'd do what she wanted even if he had, but he also knew it was his job to protect her during this hand off. Still, he did as he was told, pulling off and heading around the block to the alley at the back of he large house. He parked and got out, lighting a cigarette and leaning against the car to wait for Cassie to come out the back so he could start unloading. But minutes ticked by and the tobacco burned down to the filter on two different cigarettes before he started to sweat a bit. But he trusted her, so he waited.

Isa felt the relief wash over her that she was still in, only nodded though. Playing it cool and all of that. “I’m going to get the names,” she said firmly. She needed the money, yes, but there was a small part of her that enjoyed the challenge. It was definitely better, made it a lot more bearable to have something to pay attention while somebody she did not feel any kind of desire for was in her bed. 

There was a new glint in her eyes when Ephram pulled out the dollarpounds, placing the mug back onto the table. “The hip is still ailing, the cow died about a week ago,” she gave the reply to his question that was mostly fiction. Her mother did live on the country, but her hip was just fine and they never had cows. She walked over to Ephram slowly and took the bills. “Thank you,” she said and before she did anything else, she took the money and put it into the drawer of her table. She’d hide it later with the rest, but for now, it made her feel better to not have it out in the open. 

And then she undid her dress and let it drop around her legs, stepping out of it and walking back to Ephram as she turned her brain over to work mode. “Where do you want me?” she asked, her fingers toying with his clothing, looking up at him with a question in her eyes whether he wanted her to undress him or not.

"I want you," Ephram said, letting his fingers trail along her silken slip with his callouses catching and pulling, "exactly where you are." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, the paper coming apart in a twirl of tobacco, and put the side of his face against Isa's stomach, breathing in deep. "Brindle needs to think that you're loyal to him," Ephram told her, wrapping his arm around Isa's thighs, just under the lush curve of her backside. "He's not foolish, but he's arrogant. Be impressed by everything he tells you, even if it's a particularly prodigious piss he took that morning." Ephram breathed a damp circle against the silk, tugging it up until his lips were brushing skin.

Skull Boys tended to be ex-fighters, ex-military, ex-whatever sort of man had plenty of brawn and nowhere to expend it anymore. The one who marched Cassie down the alley beside Clair de Lune and into a damp, deep alcove between two buildings was clearly of the first sort, from his missing teeth and cauliflower ear. "Thinking up taking work as a whore now that daddy's kicked the bucket, Miss Kingfisher?" he leered, using the gun to wave Cassie over to a few wooden crates where he indicated she should sit. He kept himself angled to see if anybody should pass by the alcove, continuing, "Skull Boys hears that you've been seen taking meetings with your brother. Now we know that Kingfisher's not about to hand business matters over to some broad with two brats, but that don't mean you're not important, does it."

Cassie walked lightly down the alleyway, stealing a few quick glances to the Skull Boy crook that guided her until she was met with the boxes and signaled to take a seat. The mention of whoring only had her chuckling for a moment and she smoothed her coat as she followed directions and sat patciently. "I told you. I was meeting a friend. You've seen me with my brother? Than why the hell would I waste my time on prostitiion." She clicked her tongue in disapproval at the stupidity of the idea and crossed her ankles. "What do you want? The longer you keep me, the harder Slap Jacks will come down on your sorry ass."

The boxer sneered, "Oh yeah? What kind of friend does a fancy lady like you have at a place like this wot shits out reprobates of all types day and night? Run that mouth all you want, Miss, it won't change your situation any. Skull Boys could use Slap Jacks as toothpicks if we had a mind to. This right here? Is a courtesy." He moved to the edge of the alcove, keeping an eye on Cassie as he took a quick glance around. "Right, look sharp and reconsider answering our questions, if you want to keep all your pretty teeth." The boxer flattened himself against the wall to allow a woman into the alcove, as small as Cassie herself but with a fluffy cloud of bleached-blonde hair under a wide-brimmed dark hat. 

"That's my business." Cassie told the boxer calmly only just barely starting to sweat when the man threatened her directly. The fact of the matter was, she wasn't armed. If she had been, she was sloppily trained at best. So she didn't really understand the Skull Boys angle here, unless they were lower than dirt and simply didn't care. "Ask your questions, the important ones, instead of playing around." Cassie practically commanded of the boxer, but then it all became clear as another set of heels clicked on the cobblestones.

The blonde woman walked up to Cassie and tapped the box Cassie was sitting on with her skull-topped cane. "Be straight with me, bitch," the woman said in a tone as sweet as if she was inviting Cassie to tea. "You know as well as I do that it's the female of the species that's deadlier, hmm? And I've always wanted a little girl and boy of my very own. Bang bang, you're dead." The woman smiled, fingers held like cap guns.

Isa wanted to point out that Ephram wasn't saying anything she didn't know already. That was what her job entailed, whether she was trying to get information out of somebody or just making them believe they were the best fuck of her life despite being a paying customer. It's what kept them coming back. Feeling like they were amazing, feeling like they were listened to, when their wives, their girlfriends, their sidepieces, sometimes their mothers weren't doing the same. She ran her fingers through his hair, playing with a lock of his, letting him guide what would happen for now. 

"Yeah, I can do that," Isa said, sounding completely genuine, as if she's never thought about this before, as if Ephram himself came up with the most brilliant idea ever. Whether he realized she was doing the same thing with him he was suggesting her to do on Brindle, she didn't care. "He talks a lot, you know. Complains mostly, but it goes on and on for a long time. But I can definitely act like it's the most interesting thing I've ever heard."

Ephram, truthfully, wasn't considering that at all, taking at face value that Isa had found his somewhat redundant orders as completely fresh and new. It was the scent that wafted from her silken underthings that he was more focused on, the shift of her belly as she breathed and spoke, the feel of her fingers in his hair. "That's enough about Brindle," he said abruptly, looking up at her with his hands tightening on her custard-smooth thighs. That was enough about government contracts, and extorting information, and Slap Jacks, and even fucking Kingfisher. 

Ephram reached up to pull Isa down, rising slightly from the bed so that he could kiss her hot and hard with his hand tangling in the dark hair that spilled over the nape of her neck. "Undo my trousers. I want you riding me, Isa, you got your fucking money -- give me something better than you give that bastard Brindle." A corner of his lip twitched up in a grimace, hand in her hair clenching.

This boxer wasn't the man in charge. He couldn't possibly be. Cassie stared at the woman in the widebrimmed hat, taking in her words and only flinching when she raised her fingers like...pop guns. Cassie got the message loud and clear. That was a crossed line. "Let's play straight then. What business do the Skull Boys want with Kingfisher? I was overseeing firearm delivery for my brother. That's all I have."

The woman practically purred, opening the dark mink coat she wore and letting it hang open over her gown, dripping with jet beads. "See, Bosco? I knew if we just snatched up a lady, we'd get some answers instead of the runaround. Eminently more reasonable than you barrels of testosterone and ..." She reached over to drag one manicured fingernail down Bosco's chest, "...other things." 

Turning her attention back to Cassie, she said, "We haven't been introduced, how ditzy of me. My name's Petal Popovitch. Nice to do business with you, Cassie Kingfisher." She sat on one of the other wooden crates, crossing her legs and lighting a cigarillo. "Now, about this firearm delivery. I'm not really interested in your firearm delivery -- I'm more concerned about the other party involved." Petal directed a level stare at Cassie. "You know who I'm talking about, don't you."

Cassie watched Petal carefully as she took the seat next to her, lifting a thumb to chew the nail down to the nub with anxiety. "Freddie Watts?" She spoke, mostly to clarify that this was who The Skull Boys were after. The thing was, Freddie wasn't family. She'd rat on a potential business partner with the drop of a hat, especially if her kids were put at risk. Ephram would forgive her. "You have to tell me if he has a golden dick, or something." Cassie laughed bitterly. "Aside from the frocks, I simply don't see the appeal. Anyways." She shrugged that curiosity about Freddie away, "What do you want to do with Watts? I'm not his keeper."

Petal threw back her head in a laugh, saying, "It doesn't matter to me, darling, if he has a gold dick or three dicks or no dick at all. It's Watts' sparkly fingers and the promise of access to more jewels that entices me." Puffing on her slim cigar, Petal said, "--he hasn't offered to share that side of the business with Slap Jacks? Huh." 

She shook her head. "Greedy boy. But this does change the relationship between you and me, I'm afraid." Petal gave a regretful sigh. "If you've got nothing on Watts and nothing interesting to do with Jacks, then your only value is as a hostage. You've been one before, I assume? Growing up the extra, and all. The spare imitation Kingfisher."

Essie crosses her arms as the doctor leaves. She'll find a way to slip a little extra his way, he's good at his job and she appreciates his discretion. Essie tucks her coat further around herself and heads for the door. She heads down the halls and out the back door. Pausing in the threshold looking at a stationary car with a figure in it. In the wake of a discussion gone bad she's weary, her fingers tucks into her coat and over the handle of a gun. One of many she's always got on her person. Squinting into the windshield of the car she recognises the face.

Joey saw a somewhat familiar face exiting the house and sighed with relief, almost kicking off the car as he flicked his fifth cigarette in a row away. “Ms Caird,” he began as he jogged up to her. “Did you see Ms Kingfisher in there?”

Essie moves her hands away from her firearms and pulls her coat over her blood soaked dress. "Ms Kingfisher? No I haven't. Did you drop her off?" Essie wonders still holding the door open and looking back down the hall. "I walked the place just now, no sight of her."

Joey grimaces at Essie's answer. "Shit," he grumbles, panic setting in. This was bad on so many angles. If anything bad happened to Cassie, he'd kill whoever was responsible. But also he lost Ephram's sister, and that could result in him being dead before he had a chance to even kill a house fly. And on top of it all, he had this shipment he couldn't leave alone. "Look, I think we've got a situation on our hands. Cassie was supposed to go in front and arrange for the shipment drop off, but if she never made it in..." God, his stomach hurt. "I've gotta look for her, but I can't leave the car alone."

Isa kissed him back hard and strong, her fingers in his hair slipping down to his neck and pulling him close as if all she wanted to do was kiss him, as if she's been waiting for this, needing this to happen since the first moment she walked into her room and saw him on her bed. Her fingers worked his trousers, opening it quickly just enough for his cock to be out on the open, her fingers working it to get it ready before she quickly slipped out of her undergarment and straddled Ephram, sinking down onto him. "You feel so good, so filling in me," she breathed against his ears, husky and sulky, like she's never had better before, while she started to move on him.

Ephram knew, logically, that this was as much a pretence as the performance at the old man's gravesite. And strangely, that made the encounter eminently more satisfying. A lie agreed upon was more honest in its own way than actual feelings that required cold, constant vivisection to make sure nothing was being missed. He groaned as Isa pushed herself onto his cock with the skill required of her profession, his hands spanning her waist and rucking up her slip as her voice, just as silken as the heat inside her, started to drip honeyed words. Not new ones, but dammit -- gangland boss Ephram might be, but he was a man as well. And he liked to hear how good he fucked just as much as the next.

Growling, he turned them and shoved Isa down on the bed, gripping her thigh to tug her leg up higher as he drove into her. The glass ashtray spilled its contents onto the sheets and smeared their clothes, the parts of their skin that were exposed, as Ephram thrust over and over. "Say it again," he demanded, his dark-blown eyes meeting hers in the command. "How much you want this. How good it feels." He rolled his hips forward, then held still, panting. "No," Ephram said, changing his mind as he looked down at Isa. "Tell me something new. Tell me something true. Do that for me, Isa."

Cassie raised her brows at the mention of Freddie having hand in jewels. No, that wasn't information she knew. Ephram? Maybe. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. He's almost as slick as they come." Cassie tried not to look concerned at the mention of changed relationship. What did that mean? This Petal Popovitch clearly enjoyed teasing and rousing. "You want Watts? You can have him. He's dirty. But I'm honestly a little offended Petal." Cassie placed a hand over her heart, "You take me, jerk me around, and assume I'm a throw away nobody?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Why waste the energy? This is the kind of business model my father couldn't stand. The games. From one woman to another," Cassie stared at her. "You might wanna look a little deeper."

"Oooooh!" Petal wriggled on her crate seat, leaving her cigarillo in her mouth for a moment to clap in delight. "That's a relief, I tell you, Cassie, a real honest relief. Not about Watts, that can be filed under Other Business for now. But you!" Petal held out her hands, gesturing at Cassie, before taking her little cigar from her lips. "For a moment there I was prepared to be disappointed. I know what it's like, after all, being--" she made a face, rolling her eyes, "the girl in the gang. Nobody takes you seriously!" 

Petal made a moue of commiseration, until something occurred to her and she cocked her head. "Your brother does, though, doesn't he? That's the little deeper part of it, hmmm?" She gave a sly grin, twirling her cigarillo in Cassie's direction. "You two scamps are trying to pull something over on us all. Go on, tell me! You've all but admitted it already."

Essie purses her lips at the man. "A shipment of what?" she asks seriously. "I'll stay here if you tell me. Depending on the cargo. You should inform your...organisation as quickly as you can before you go looking." she suggests. "Backup on the way is always a good thing. And let them know who's with the shipment."

"Your guns," Joey hissed quietly. The cargo wasn't high on his priority list any more. But knowing someone that cared about it would watch over it was comforting, at least to save his ass. "Get in," he said, gesturing she round the car. "I don't have time to let anyone know. Every second counts." Once she was inside, he drove a little way down the alley, going slow and glancing down each adjoining alleyway down the block. That's when he saw a car blocking one of them, and a group of people further down. "Shit, shit, shit...."

Bosco made a hupping sound from the mouth of the alcove. "Company on the way, boss," he said, raising the gun he was holding. Petal looked put out, but rallied quickly. "Looks like you and me are going for a ride, toots," she said, standing and doing up her mink again, taking Cassie by the elbow in a startlingly strong grip. "Shift it, and quick."

Cassie shook her head with a sigh, "Aw Petal, the camaraderie. It's sweet." But a part of Cassie wanted to bash the woman's face in, or at least have one of the Slap Jacks do it. For threatening her kids. She wouldn't forget that. "Unfortunately the Kingfisher's have very little interest in you and your bucks. I'm sorry to inform you." Cassie tilted her chin up slightly, "So unless you have something to offer-" But Cassie's digs and cuts at the other mob boss was cut short when the boxer came back, and Petal was pulling her towards a car for escape. "And here come the revelry. What was that Petal? Five minutes tops?"

Essie glanced at the car and nods once. Her own guns, well. Not hers any longer as they'd been signed over. Getting into the car with a man heavily integrated with a gang like the slap jacks wasn't high on her list of things to do. But at that moment she wanted to affiliate with them, she might have just been stitched up but perhaps this would aid her business in the long run. Or at least if this guy got himself killed she could drive the shipment back to Watts. Pulling one of her guns as they drive she spots what Joey does. "Your call, but I warn you, I'm not looking for as much trouble as you are."

Joey jumped out of the car like a jackrabbit, digging into his waistband for his revolver. “Stay here,” he says to Essie. No need to get her too involved in this, as she made clear. Moving into the alley, he saw a glimpse of Cassie being pushed into a car by a woman, before that car sped away too quick for Joey to even aim his gun at the tires. There were two men heading toward him though, trying to get to the car close to the opening of the alley. Without hesitation, Joey aimed and shot one of them in the head, the body slumping to the cobblestone in a heap. 

Joey grabbed the other man by the neck, shoving him up against the brick as he aimed his revolver at his head. He quickly reached down to unarm the man before returning a hand to his neck and squeezing slightly. “Where are they taking her?” he hissed. “WHERE ARE THEY TAKING HER?!” he then yelled before the man even had a chance to respond.

Skull Boys were loyal to a fault, and Skull Boys didn't hesitate when it came to dealing death -- either for others, or their own. The heavy who Joey grabbed didn't show any fear, even less care about the sudden violent demise of his companion, and he gave a gold-toothed smile even as he struggled for breath. "Where the boss lady takes things that she wants alterations done on em," he said, tongue lashing against his cheek with lurid suggestion.

Essie had no qualms about staying where she was, she was in absolutely no hurry to be shot at again that day. Maybe she wanted credit for helping out, but she wasn't willing to go far into danger herself for it. She recognised one of the skull boys, but the next moment his head was blown and his body had hit the pavement. Standing half out of the car she watches Joeys attempt at interrogation. "Break all his fingers." she suggests unhelpfully.

Isa was rocking on Ephram, putting her best performance forward like she did with everyone else - this was a kind of acting, just the one most people looked down on, even though it probably brought the most pleasure to the people who came to her bed, and she could tell Ephram was enjoying it. No surprise to Isa, what man didn't like to hear just how good he was, that he was fucking so good even a prostitute liked what he was doing. 

He swiftly turned them around, shoving Isa onto the bed and she opened her legs just a little wider, more inviting, while her mind momentarily wandered just how her sheets and her slip would need extra washing because of the cigarette's ash. He then asked her to tell him something true, and she pulled him down and kissed him hard instead of answering him right away, buckling her hips up against him. 

"Your lips, they are soft and inviting, but when you kiss, it's hard and demanding. I like that," she said, something that sounded like the truth, maybe because half of it was, and maybe because it wasn't something she usually said. Wasn't the kind of compliment most people wanted to hear.

Ephram gave a growl as his movements against and into Isa grew shorter and deeper, the iron bedhead clanging against the wall. He cupped her cheek with his free hand, thumb stroking her cheekbone, and said in a strangled, low voice, "--good enough," before ducking his face against her throat and coming with a cracked, stifled cry. He stayed there for a few heartbeats, catching his breath, and then raised his head to plant a firm kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

Pulling out, Ephram sat up on the side of the bed again and lit a fresh cigarette, puffing hard on it as he tucked himself away and did up his trousers. "Here," he said shortly, tugging off the amethyst cabochon he wore on his pinkie finger and tossing it onto Isa's body. "For your trouble. And the fine performance."

Isa's movements became ragged, her thurst upward getting more and more erratic, her panting getting harder as Ephram was clearly getting close to the climax, and when he dropped his face against her throat, she cried out, pretending to have come. She hasn't actually come from a client in... well, probably never, but they didn't come to her to know that. She once against ran her fingers through Ephram's hair, stroking his head while he caught her breath, still heaving as if she was trying to catch her breath too, and after he pulled away and sat up, she pushed herself up against in a sitting position and leaned against the bed frame. 

"You've got one for me too?" Isa asked nodding towards the cigarette danging from his mouth. When he threw something at her, she picked it up quickly, her heart starting to beat faster now when she realized what it was. She looked up at Ephram and then back down onto the ring. "Happy to be of service, please do come back whenever you're in need." She looked at him for a long moment in silence before she turned the conversation back onto her task. "How time sensitive is Brindle thing, Ephram? How long do I have until I need to get it all out of him?"

Ephram shut his eyes when Isa sat up, securing the ring he'd given her and turning immediately back to the topic of Brindle. Kingfisher business a tap-tap-tapping at his skull without a moment's respite, even with the taste of her eroding under the cigarette smoke at the back of his throat. He stood up, long fingers flicking a cigarette from his case; he swapped it for the one he'd just begun, using the lit cigarette to light the new one and then handing it over to Isa. "Till the end of October," he said, raking his fingers through his damp hair and one-handedly doing up the top button of his shirt. "Conservatively. If anything new arises--" 

Gunshots rang through the air outside, and Ephram reached over to Isa, hand on her shoulder urging her down lower on the bed." Stay there," he snapped, and went over to the window to peer out, his own handgun unholstered from his shoulder harness in the two steps between bed and curtains.

Joey bashed the enforcer's head against the brick behind him at the mere suggestion of the Skull Boys doing something to Cassie, pressing the barrel of the gun right between his eyes. "Don't yank my chain, asshole. Tell me the truth or you die like your friend." At Essie's suggestion, Joey smiled a bit. "Now that's an idea." Gun still square on him, superior body weight holding him in place, Joey took his free hand and snapped two of the man's finger's in one swift motion. "TALK!"

Essie steps out of the car. Joey was trying to do an awful lot at once. Feeling at no personal danger she moves forward and puts her own gun to his head. "Focus please. Fingers. Information. Holding him to the wall." she requests of Joey, trying to lighten his load for a moment. She looks at skull boy and hums. "You can't be talking about a tailors now, speak up."

Skull Boys might be tough, but their bones broke like anybody else's. The man howled, spittle flying from his mouth at the force of the sound. "There's a dress shop!" he yowled. "That's all I know, a shop south of the river, it's all I know, the boss lady don't tell us rank and file where exactly she does her business, you know she wouldn't!" He yanked, trying to pull his hand away, and then leaned forward and sank his snaggle teeth into what meat of Joey's shoulder he could manage, eyeing Essie as if he'd lunge for her next.

Essie squinted at the man when he spoke. However the sudden movement was not lost on the young woman. She steps back as teeth dig into Joeys shoulder. Her gun shifting from the skull boys face to his crotch and she fired off a shot quickly, the look didn't sit well with her.

Joey was appreciative of Essie coming to lighten his load. He'd felt like he'd been juggling chainsaws trying to keep the man in place and be menacing at the same time. Finally, the man talked, and Joey believed him. He knew what it was like only be told the bare minimum to get the job done. Not trusted or rewarded with the details. He was ready to let the man go, honestly, until the man straight up BIT him. He stifled a cry of pain and used the hand of his gun to hammer into the side of his head. Essie's gunshot made him jump back, but even as he bled he quickly smiled as the man cried, cradling his bloody trousers on the pavement. 

"I think we're good and done with you," Joey growled, reaching down and snapping the man's neck with his own grunt at the effort. "Good shot, Ms Caird," he said as she stood again, wiping some sweat from his brow as he tried to catch his breath.

The Skull Boys heavy dropped like a sack of soaked cement -- albeit one that screamed and bled profusely -- and once Joey broke his neck, a flat, unnatural silence fell over the alleyway.

Isa slipped the ring onto her fingers for now and nodded at the deadline Ephram gave her. It would be tight, getting anything useful out of Brindle was like trying to find a sober one in a pub aside from the barkeep - practically impossible. But she'd already gotten him to talk, all she needed was to get him to that point again. Ask questions as if she was nothing but a dumb body. She took the cigarette and took a drag of it when the gunshots pierces the relative silence around them, and Isa jumped in shock and fear, but when Ephram told her to stay where she was, she didn't listen, crawling down onto the floor instead, her heart beating in her throat now. "What the hell is happening?" she hissed at Ephram.

Ephram swore viciously when he scanned the street further down from Clair de Lune and saw no outlines of any cars. There was no way that Ruby had already opened her hiding-holes for the storage of the Slap Jacks weapons shipment, which could only mean that something had gone wrong before the boarding house had seen even one of Essie Caird's guns. "Nothing good," he said roughly, and looked over at the bed, about to say something when he realized that Isa was no longer there. 

Going over to where she was half-tucked under her bed, Ephram bent down, holding the sheets up. "That's a good place to stay," he said, any traces of a person other than a cold-blooded gangster evaporating with each word. "If you hear shooting downstairs, get under the floorboards. Don't come up until an hour after everything falls silent." He looked over the bed at the door, then back down at Isa. 

For a moment it seemed like he might say something -- maybe ask her something -- but then Ephram let the sheet drop, the thump of his booted feet circling the bed and fading as he left.

Essie lowers her gun as Joey snaps the mans neck. "I'm always a good shot." she says in return. "Location. You have a location. The locals might have already called the cops about the shots this is not the place to stay any longer, not with a shipment of munitions this big. No time to load them into wherever they were going in this place and no time to waste not going to this unknown tailors." she speaks quickly. On high alert she raises her gun when she hears steps coming down the alleyway.

Joey knew she was right. He started going over the scene to make sure they hadn't left any evidence behind. "I've got to take the shipment back to the compound first. Ephram should be roped in on this." He grimaced at the thought. "You don't gotta stick with me. But thanks for the help."

Ephram came down the alleyway at a dead run, taking in the two corpses and the Slap Jacks shipment car before he reached the other two and gesturing at the deceased men with his gun. "What the fuck is this?" he demanded, aghast. "Is that our shipment? Why are you in this alley and where--" Ephram almost raised his gun in Joey's direction. 

"Where's my sister, Voeman?"