Jack And The Girl With The Knife

The Best Laid Plans

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Bo

Sometimes your queen of the world, all the players of the greatest show in the heavens lining up and dancing to your tune. Other times, such as now, your just hoping that the director see's fit to keep you in the cast. It was a deal gone bad, as they so often did. Bo had been there supervising, letting the dealers do their thing without intervening. But then insults had been traded, and guns and knives pulled, and in a moment of utter horror, the world went start white on black as bullets began to fly, men began to scream, and calls for vengeance were decreed. Bo had done the thing that made the very most sense at the time. The second guns had come out she'd gotten down. She was not about to try and get between the two parties, that was not what she was here to do, and when that first shot had rang out….well Bo got the hell out of dodge. This is where we find her now, racing down an alleyway in search of freedom, or at least a really good hiding spot.  Her heart pounds in her chest as she hauls herself along, absolutely certain that if it was the other guys who had won the day…that they would be coming for her. They are far back thankfully as Bo scuttles into the dark of a blind alley, ducking down and making herself as tiny as possible. She was certain she was impossible to see at this point, the dark around her was all consuming, all enveloping and so she staid perfectly still and regulated her breathing as best she could, her face hidden behind her knee's to hide any reflection as she readied her knife. Footfalls draw close as Bo sat there, waiting and hoping that they moved on past. Whoever was coming was coming fast, and that made Bo's heart leap just a little, but she reminded herself that fast moving people missed people hiding in the dark. Suddenly two shapes dash past, wether they were fleeing or hunting, Bo could not tell…but so long as they didn't come back here way….she could care less.

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Jack

Jack is not a fighter. Not really. Jack prefers to talk his way out of troubles (into troubles, too), use his words to change his world and inform the characters in it how the story's going to go. Jack has Many Faces and Bo has met two, one briefly, and one twice, and perhaps tonight she'll meet a third. This is what happened: A deal gone bad, and Bo, hiding from the dealers who're tearing themselves apart. As Luck would have it, Bo darts into a place where Jack is sitting on the top of a closed dumpster, just waiting for some Thing to come to him, to bring him fables about the city that he can weave into his fable, and there's nothing to be Noticed about Jack. He might as well be Nobody, unmoving up there on the top of the dumpster, Nobody you'd look at, Nobody'd you remember, Nothing to even glance towards, a Null space cut out in the middle of the world, silence and quiet. As Luck would have it? With her pulse fear-tripping, she smells more like a snack than ever. But Jack. He's Good. He knows who Bo is and who has claimed Bo and he's got a vested interest anyway so he watches the two run past and waits and waits and then gathers himself up to don a Mask instead of just pass Unseen and Unnoticed and Un-everything, and breaks his first spell with the next knack, saying, "Bad luck tonight, Bo?" He's chosen to wear a face she is familiar with after all, grey-or-gray eyes, gap-teeth, Man-with-Cat.  [Quoted text hidden]

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Bo

It was probably not the smartest move Jack could make, not the smartest thing at all. Because Bo's adrenaline is spiking, her heart racing, fear is in her and she is a little like a wild animal when Jack speaks, the blade she had secreted near her thigh, long and slender and oh so very very sharp whisked through the air as fear and adrenaline overtook though and Bo's knife leapt towards Jack. The blade shawn in the moonlight for a split second before Bo managed to averted its arch upon witnessing who it was she was swinging her blade at. She expertly adjusted its course and instead of the blade finding a home in Jack, it thunked into the top of the dumpster and she breathed heavily, her pulse rushing as she looked at Jack with wide, fearful eyes. "Dude!" She hissed at him, her eyes wide. "I almost made you a shish kabob special." She tucked the knife away and looked back out to the alley, watching for any sign the men might be returning. When she found none she turned back and gave Jack a little push. "Do not mess with a girl in the middle of business, it does not end well….or so I'm told." She looks back out to the alley once more and then sat down, choosing to remain where she was for now with a deep sigh. After a moment given to herself she looked over at Jack and asked. "Umm kinda personal question maybe, but what are you doing in this little alleyway? You missin your little compadre again?" Shay @ 7:20PM Can someone stamp a witness on this for me? [Bo: Self Control that knife girl!] Roll: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 9, 10) ( success x 2 ) VALID CourtCat @ 7:21PM withnessed [Quoted text hidden]

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Jack

The knife flashes! As do Bo's eyes, the whites of them! A mad woman! A survivor! Adrenaline's darling! The moonlight kisses the blade for luck and luck turns her hand aside (in one version of events), slamming the knife's edge through the hard plastic dumpster lid instead. And Jack, canny and cunning and quiet Jack of Jacks, he'd scooted further to the side, gauging her hand's arc, beginning to pull into a crouch. He might survive a stabbing, but Aslan might survive a shaving and ritual sacrifice too: doesn't mean the shaving and ritual sacrifice was welcome. He also waits a few moments, listening for anybody returning or deciding to look down this alley. She has to stretch and perhaps jump in order to give him a push, but he sways with it, give-and-take without the take, and smiles at her ruefully, rubbing his palm over his short hair, expressive eyebrows up and gray-grey eyes at their most guileless. And then: A 'kinda personal question' gets a faint headshake. Jack is poking his head over the edge of the dumpster to look down at the niche Bo is curled up and waiting in, her personal foxhole. His ears are backlit against the night sky, his silhouette could be sold and marketed and instantly recognizable. "Oh no. I don't know where exactly Boots is, but judging from some yowls in my neighborhood I'd say he's wooing himself a sweetheart. I am waiting for a messenger," he tells her. "A couple messengers, to be honest, though I doubt they'll come with somebody else hiding here. Your business involves knives? The night life of a gas station attendant is more dangerous than I was led to believe. Shouldn't you have a gun for," he nods toward the mouth of the alley, and there is nobody there, but the nod encompasses the streets themselves, and all potential danger there-upon, "these kinds of adventures?" [Quoted text hidden]

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Bo

Bo is fighting to bring her breathing back under control as she sits there on the floor of the alleyway, waiting for the heat to die down and fade away. Give it ten, maybe twenty minutes as no dealer sticks around after shots have been fired, to many cops, to many questions, to many glaring lights searching for you. Bo would not have that issue, all she had on her was her phone, and a pocket knife, the knife itself was just barely inside legal parameter's, a self defence weapon if asked about it. "Guess you missed the memo Skeleton Jack." She said with a wry grin upon her lips as she looked up at that darkened silhouette. "I'm not in the gas jockey business anymore. I had a better offer, and I took it. Of course those better offers often come with greater risks, and well. I'm experiencing those now." She said as she folded the blade back into its stock and slid it into her boot once more. She starts to fix her appearance then, doing so quickly and expertly, not because she was used to this sort of situation, but because well…she cared about such things. "I suck…with guns, I'm better at shooting my own foot then I am at shooting someone else's chest." She chuckles at that as her breathing returns to normal and she starts in on her hair fingers dragging through those black tresses as she spoke. "Sides, you should see the benefit plan that comes with this job. It's got a health plan you would not believe Jacko." She lets out a sigh of exasperation then as she looks at the tips of her hair.  "Man i gotta get a haircut soon." She looks up at Jack then with a smile. "Don't mind me, when the bullets start flying the blonde in me starts bitching." [Quoted text hidden]

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Jack

At 'health benefits he wouldn't believe': "Try me. I make it a habit to listen carefully to every unbelievable thing people mention, just in case it turns out that the unbelievable thing is really my ignorance," Jack says, his tone tempt-tempt, beguile-beguile, and he rests his chin on his broad bony hands, raw-bone fingers, pale as ivory and ice, a remarkably silly position. Jester and Fool, our dreaming dreamy Jack the Nosferatu.  Head-cock. Not like you'd cock a gun, just like you'd sort-of twist your head just like that, like you were shaking a thought out of your ear: "Is it the control of the knife you like best? A childhood spent in the fencing clubs or the S.C.A.? The only way you'll learn to handle a firearm is to handle a firearm." "I don't like them much myself, mind you," says he, apparently grave now. "Nor any machine that kills from afar or kills without care." Her inner blonde starts bitching. "And that's how you know your inner blonde's a natural blonde," he says, lilting it upwards like it's almost a question, or like he's been delighted by blondes before, or maybe like he's just changing gears from machines that kill to women with killer curves and fun-time sunshine hair. [Quoted text hidden]

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Bo

Jack the fool, jack the jester. He offered jokes and witticisms in the midst of a very bad, very dark night and Bo looks up at him with a smile and a laugh that spoke of honesty and great and sincere appreciation for his words and ways. "Ohhh Captain Jack I could kiss you if you weren't sitting in a dumpster." She said with a sigh as she stopped fixing her hair, leaving it in its semi repaired state, really the best she could do without a proper comb, and Bo carried no purse tonight. "I'm naturally dark haired, thank my momma for that one, and for these rocking eyes." She frames her eyes with V shaped index and middle fingers, like a rockstar or a model before she chuckles. "But I HAVE an unhealthy obsession with Cosmo…so it kinda rubs off." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a stick of gum and unwraps it carefully before stuffing the gum in her mouth and chewing it slowly. She glances sidelong at Jack then and shrugs. "If you really gotta know Captain Jack…I was an all star fencer…at least till I was shown there really wasn't a future in it. So i became a dragon slayer." She grins impishly at that and shook her head. "As to my miraculous benefits? I don't think my employer would take kindly to me discussing her employment benefits and perks with none employees." She offers him a conciliatory smile. "Sorry Jack." [Quoted text hidden]

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Jack

"Coulda. Woulda. Shoulda." Jack smirks. He lifts his chin, rearing back and shoulders hunching up so that he can study the cut she'd made in the dumpster lid, and then he resettles, arms folded on the dumpster lid's edge like a kid in a Norman Rockwell painting, "What's an 'all star' fencer? I don't follow the sport," he says, sounding curious. Also, honest. "Oh. Too bad. I don't suppose your employer is looking to hire anymore new people? I could use health benefits and perks." Maybe this is his confirmation that he is, indeed, homeless. There might've been doubt before: he didn't dress like a homeless person -- his clothes were very clean. He didn't carry himself like a homeless person either -- but tonight he's hanging out in an alley on a dumpster lid. "Most of all, I'd like to see something miraculous," a touch of wist and wary. "Adventure," and a grin, lifting his ears up, making his cheeks shine, crinkles around his eyes. An engaging grinner, This Face, even with the bad teeth. [Quoted text hidden]

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Bo

Jack could crack the hardest shell, of that Bo was certain, he had a way of worming his way past your defences with a smile and a joke and a hint of a laugh. Bo slowly pushed herself up to standing now that she was certain the bad guys were gone and she stepped up to the dumpster as she adjusted her shirt and shifted her jeans. "All-star is all star, basically, if I hadda kept going Captain Jack, I most assuredly woulda been one of those ever so prim and proper ladies at the olympics jabbing each other with a pointy sword." She suddenly stands tall and moves her right arm around like she was saluting with a sword before her. The action is finished with a chuckle and she shakes her head. "She's always looking for people who have the right skills. Course..you gotta be willing to get dirty sometimes." She gestured around them and then looked at the dumpster in which Jack sat. "I am guessing however that it wouldn't be an issue..at least not the physically dirty part?" She inquires with a grin. "Just how are you standing staying in that dumpster Jacko, I can smell it from here and I can tell you it smells like my cooking after an hour on the stove top."  She steps up and looks down in the dumpster, standing in front of but slightly to the side of Jack. "Listen, you wanna meal or something? I figure your messenger's probably ain't gonna show up anytime soon. Could get you a meal…a sorry I almost stabbed you in the gizzard apology meal?" [Quoted text hidden]

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Jack

Jack, who was lying on the dumpster's closed lid in order to peek down at Bo while she was still hiding and crouched, sits up once Bo ceases fixing her hair, the better to cut a fencer's salute through the air, an imaginary epée or saber in her hand. He chuckles when she wants to know how he can stand to be that close, or perhaps when she makes a joke about her cooking. "Your rousing description of a meal that smells like garbage and has been cooked by an all star fencer has roused my hunger," he replies, both kindly and sarcastically, if one can imagine the mix: The key is the kindness, and that the sarcasm is light and synonymous with a joke. Then he nods toward the street: " - what skills would be 'right' for your employer? Other than dirty fingers." Does he want a meal? Bo still looks delicious to him. He should probably re-fuel soon, but it won't be her he's re-fueling on: which is a pity. He thinks it's a pity right now.  "It's rather comfortable up here, Bonnie Bo. A different perspective on the city, just high enough to be at most men's shoulders, but low enough to not be looking down from an unclosable height. Thank you for the offer of a meal, but I don't need one. I'll walk you somewhere else in stead." He grins: "And I'll consider the gift of your company apology enough." [Quoted text hidden]

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Bo

"Charmer." Bo offers as she takes a step back and places her hands on her hips as pops them out. to allow Jack to hop down. "Fraid your gonna have to give up that comfortable vantage point jack-don't-call-me-Bonnie if you want to escort a lady about. Unless you plan on finding a way to move that thing around the streets, which i might pay to see." The 'jack don't call me bonnie' bit has a hint of annoyance in her tone, the name not something she's overly fond off, but its still the light and carefree Bo that Jack is used too. "As to your required skill set, well that depends on what sorta job she needs you for. Being a people person is always an excellent quality to boast, as is extensive knowledge of the police, the streets, and any area's of self defense." She offers as she spins on one heel and struts toward the little alley's mouth, taking a peek before turning back. In the light of the moon Bo's pale skin is all the more so, almost alabaster in its purity, it would make a fine meal indeed as the young woman walked back towards him. Of course Bo thinks nothing of this, because she knows not of Jacks condition. Instead she simply gestures for him to hop on down. "Well come on, if your comin lets get a movin, theres a proper meal just waiting for me at the very least. You sure you don't want something? I mean…you made a bad situation seem a lot better." [Quoted text hidden]

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Jack

His 'condition' -- of, what, being a red-blooded, if kind (he is the Good Jack; he has always been in the Good Jack, even when he was being the Bad Jack), male? We know that isn't the 'condition' in question, but perhaps his gaze would linger if he had more natural appetites, drawn to do so by how sublimely Bo that Bo can be. He is amused when she gets huffy with him over the name, but it's a mild amusement lost in the wake of her strut to the alleyway's mouth. By the time she is turning around, he has swept the alley once more with his eyes, looking for his messengers, the bats and cats and rats and creepy crawly things, animal-eyed and nail-clawed, not to be noticed, but he doesn't see them. Perhaps Bo is scaring them away. So: Jack climbs down from the dumpster; does it by scooting to the end and dropping. There's something limber there, something competent, speaks more of strength than else. "What sorta job does she need -you- for, Bo? Is it drugs?" His expression turns inward for a moment, and there's a touch of dolor to his voice, though he is a playactor too: "I am a people person." Then: and he laughs. "Where do you want to go? Thai, wasn't it?"  Wasn't it that night when Bo without knowing it re-introduced two old aquaintances.   [Quoted text hidden]

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Bo

She draws close once more, her arms folding upon themselves and hanging under her chest as he starts to move, slipping from the dumpster's surface with more strength and coordination then one would imagine from a man who looks like Jack. She notes this, those great green eyes set in that alabaster face taking in the fine details, one could imagine she learned to watch such things when studying her opponents on the fencing mats. She purses her lips briefly when she realizes she gave away her employer's sex, but such things were minor details, unless Bo gave up her name, it wouldn't be betrayal would it? No of course not. Bo turned and started back towards the mouth of their little alley, the stage upon which this scene had been set and spoke as she headed for the street. "Drugs? Nooo I'm her personal assistant. I just make sure everything's running smoothly when she can't be about herself." She gestures down the alley from which she came. "Tonight not withstanding of course…I'll know soon enough of anyones down for the count…I hope not. We really can't afford to lose anyone." She frowns, both for how that will affect things and how that could mean someones dead. She pauses, looking back towards the scene of the crime before she fixed a smile upon her lips and turned the other way.  "Hell no Captain Jack, tonight…tonight its ALL about the Mexican food. I hear a Quesadilla screaming my name, practically begging me to come rescue it from a hot iron grill. It's gonna be brilliant." [Quoted text hidden]

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Jack

He falls into step beside her. His stride is easy; of course it would be, he is long-limbed. This Face. This Shape. "Not drugs," he says, "but it offers great health benefits, and leads to knife-fights and gun-fights in Colfax," he says, and it's slow, working this out, his eyebrows raised and not quite judgmental, but: c'mon. Not drugs? Though the eyebrows ease up, because perhaps Bo means to indicate it's human trafficking or weapons trafficking or god knows that her new employer is up to. "Her personal assistant? Anywhere else to go, speaking strictly in an upward mobility fashion..." Bo frowns, and Jack watches her frown, and after a beat, he says -- cheerful in that way that has empathy behind it, or empathy if Bo was worried for lives instead of bottom lines, since Jack's a gentleman who sees people as people (most of the time [not always]) -- "Ah, well. I'll hope no one is, but I'll also hope in an organization so strapped for manpower there's an opening." Then: he chuckles. "There's a Mexican corn guy, usually dragging his cart home 'round now. Ever tried that?"   [Quoted text hidden]

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Bo

"A corn guy….can't say I've ever tried a corn guy." She said with a tiny smirk as they stepped out onto the street proper. "But you know me, I'll try everything once, and usually a few more times juuust to make sure." Her step livens as they start to move, off to some new place, to some new experience. Bo was most assuredly a foodie, it makes you wonder what she'd do if she ever got that 'upward promotion.' She leans over to Jack as they walk along, her head bobbing this way and that as they did. "Come on Captain Jack, your a charmer, a sweety and you've got one of the coolest cat's I've ever met. But you know I can't say a thing without talking to my boss first." She reaches over and pats him on the bicep and smiles. "But if you need a job, if you really need it? I will…just for you, cause I'm Bo the Incredible, and I don't let friends stay jobless, or…whatever your situation is." She chuckles at that and then turns to keep walking off, headed to wherever Jack was leading her. "And if things go right CJ, the whole world could be mine eventually. I'd say thats pretty good upward mobility." [Quoted text hidden]

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Jack

Bo stops a moment to assure Jack that she doesn't let her friends stay jobless, if she can help it. That she'll see what she can do. The truth is that Jack is amused by her outlook; it makes him smile. Or perhaps he just smiles because of her will to be kind, in spite of a new job which sounds unsavory at best (not that 'unsavory' seems to phase Good Ol' Ugly Jack). The smile even touches his gray or grey eyes; what color are they, anyway, really? And then she turns, ready to be led - where ever. "The whole world?" he echoes. "Who would want such responsibility?" And he does lead her somewhere, our Jack. He leads her around a corner and down a block toward a more residential area where-at there is a man. Mexican. Wheeling home, improbably at this hour, one of those aluminum carts. He looks like he's in his mid-thirties and once Jack hails him stops the cart. Lets Bo choose how she'd like her elote: with all the works or not. With bacon or not. Whether she'd like her crisps on the side with chili and lime juice or not. OOC: And hey, I figure we can maybe bring this to a wrap next post. I could even wrap here. With just like, elote-enjoyment and some random Jack conversation before he wanders off to track down his messengers, but figured you might want the last ding-in! :)