Argos: Epiphany "Ghosts"

"If you think we came in a fancy fancy ship," said Emily, "You've never seen a ship even worthy of a singlular fancy. It's a huge bucket of grease, welds and bolts, and hardly a repository of wealth. Nevertheless, I do have a counter proposal."

She leaned forward in her seat. a small, black pistol appearing in her hand from out of her jacket sleeve.

"It's a rough area." she continued calmly, her other hand drawing a somewhat larger silvery handgun from beneath her jacket. "And I only have the two guns. Since we lack a driver, perhaps, if you want money, you could be hired to escort us in greater safety? I think we'd want two each for the two of us though. Would you happen to have three friends?"

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"Jerk-face?" Forest addressed the younger one with an amused grin, "You learn that in kiddie-garden?"

"Oooh! Look out, boys! The lady has a gun!" Forest shaded his eyes with one hand, leaning closer to the rickshaw, pretending to peer closely at the gun, then drew back with a lascivious wink and a hoist of his crotch, "Good thing mines bigger or I might get all envied-like."

His crew laughed, Gordo a little louder than necessary. Forest let one tattooed hand stray towards the small of his back.

"And I only have the two guns. Since we lack a driver, perhaps, if you want money, you could be hired to escort us in greater safety? I think we'd want two each for the two of us though. Would you happen to have three friends?"

Escort? What? It was the last thing he was expecting. Was she half-mental? Or was she more clever than he thought? His hand fell away from his own weapon, his voice laden with disbelief, "You sayin' you want protection? Lady, we were tryin' to rob you."

Behind the rickshaw, Gordo was nodding furiously. Honest work? Wasn't the first time they'd run a protection gig. And the babe didn't need to know they were the worst threat on the dock. Forest tilted his head, thinkin', "Well now, though... Now, you've seen how dangerous this place is. Ain't no place for two ladies all alone. How much coin we talkin? And how far you wanna go?"

They wouldn't cross 8th Ave. That was Henkley's territory.

And if the saobi had thoughts of crossin' em, her with her wee little guns, he'd gladly go back to Plan A.

His hand reached out and snaked around a length of chain left there by some errant soul, judging by the smell it had been used to hang meat. OF what kind was unknown. The bossman was heeled for sure, judging by the way his hand sneaked behind his back which made him the priority. The set up was familiar to the fighter: the brains got the guns to keep the muscle from getting ideas about doing things better. Or maybe he was just getting stoopid in his old age and as soon as he moved the other three would draw guns and turn his hidey hole into a noodle strainer.

Still the frail was in trouble, mouth aside, and he imagined that the job would end without even a hug goodnight for his trouble if anything were to happen to her and the fey fella.

His slow deliberate actions paused as Emily offered the gang a protection job. Really? That couldn't be that easy. Even a brain scrambled palooka like him could see they'd take the job money for giggles and then go back to snatchin them up when the job got boring or too hard. But he wasn't calling the shots, the older duckie in the carriage was so he'd play it soft until it was time to not play it soft. But best stay hidden, he didn't want to fret the lil one with the thought that his big ugly form was dogging her trail.

He'd seen Eavesdown Standoffs before and this one bore all the earmarks. Someone was going to get bored and then trigger happy. Anima quirked his mouth to the side as he thought for a moment, he didn't see a way around it so he forged ahead.

The old fighter re-wrapped the chain around his right fist, making sure it was heard this time. He left about a meter of it hanging down, the nasty old meathook leading the dangle and stepped out into the light. For a moment, he was back in his glory days, lurking in the dark shadows of the staging area until it was time to lurch out into the bright lights.

And the routine fell back into place for him like riding a bike. Glower at the understandably nervous gang, growl through the nose, focus a laser like stare at the ringmaster that said without words that he was the first to go down if it should come to blows.

Get their attention away from the frail. That was it. Come on and get a real piece of hind kicking....

Forest backed up a step as a gorilla in people-clothes stepped up, chain in hand. Two helpless, (or not-so-helpless), ladies was an easy gain, but he wasn't lookin' for a rutt-up, 'specially not to gettin' any more of his lads banged up. Stayin' king of Argos took manpower.

Steady-gazed, he glanced over, and then back to the pair of women, and their little pair of pistols, no hint of edge in his voice, "That's yer dog, I take it?"

"Should put up those 'Beware' signs... Dangerous animals ain't supposed to be off leashes." A grim smile parted Forest's lips, "I think, ma'am, it's best for all parties that we close our negotiations. Unless this isn't your dog, in which case, I see we'd be earnin' that coin sooner rather than later..."

Hotaru & Hitch Henkley's Summer House

"Mister Hitch!!!!! There's mean people in town and we's gotta go rescue the not mean ones!"

"Lordy, child!" Hotaru Griffon Henkley opened the door to their modest home. Her black hair, streaked with silver, was pinned up with chopsticks into an elegant bun, her dress simple and earnest, bearing a splash of flour. Nudging the sleeping dog off the front matt with the toe of her sturdy shoe, her hands wiping on a kitchen towel, she beamed a warm smile down at the winded girl running up the path,"What's the shout and rush about, Annie?"

Standing back a bit, she waved Annie inside. "Mr. Henkley's down the town on business. But we'll call down to the constable... not that he's much help of a day if there's real trouble- still better than getting ourselves in a muddle, eh?"

Sweeping inside, Hotaru flipped on the waver and sent a short call to the constable. "Now, while we wait for that to send, how about some cookies? Orange-ginger? Just out of the oven. And we've just gotten the milk in, nice and chilled."

Annie was an odd one, no denying, but for a woman too long removed from her own daughter, and slowly realizing that the grand idea of a grandchild to be pampered with all the love she had to give was fading away with Zira's wanderlust, the lonely girl from town with her outrageous stories was the next best thing.

Her gaze trailed to the picture on the mantle- a little girl with dark hair and big eyes, tomboy with torn knee in her jeans and scuffed sneakers. If children are the future, Hotaru's future had never seemed so far away. With a little prayer for the safety of her grown daughter, she turned her attention to Annie and the pair of them, youth and wisdom, perched on the high kitchen stools, swallowing in the rich sweet flavors of summer afternoons of future, past, and most of all, the present.

A single siren.

Is there a sound that the human is more conditioned to? When it reaches the ear, that rush of adrenaline, asking the questions. Freeze where we are? Take shelter? Run to offer aid? For centuries untold has the sound carried the human race to survival during times of strife.

The siren that cut through the streets of Argos, meant little to Forest. It was the sound that just meant hassle and pockets felt even deeper as they emptied of the bribes necessary to keep him king of Argos Dockside.

Raising his hand, he signaled his gang, but before he retreated, he whistled low to Emily, "You, lady, got what I call plums. You ever look to do real business... Well, you give me a whistle. Just like this one."

And whistling the chorus of the old Irish fighting song, "By the Rising of the Moon", keeping his keen eye on the bulldog, Forest faded back down the allyways from which he'd come, the jaunty tune fading as the Constable's siren drew near.

Emily and Sprite, left free and unmolested to go about their way, continued on their errands of knowledge-gathering, accompanied by Anima, his loyalty and protectionn assuring their safety.

Errands complete, the three return The Eiphany armed with clues that might help solve some of the mysteries of the black ships sordid history.

EVERYONE HAS RETURNED TO THE SHIP!

OOC: Forest's song is the more up-tempo 'battle song' version popularized by The Clancy Brothers. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rwHm18K3kjs

Anne nodded and wiggled her small form into a chair before sitting patiently. "Constables'll work I guess. Just so long that the nice visitors aren't hurteded."

She reached for a cookie on the table before remembering her manners. "Cookies sure sound good!" she told Hotaru. "You wants one too, right? 'Cause I saw a biiiig ship outside and it was big! And..and...I wanna know what it's like on one."

Anne's eyes followed Hotaru's as she looked at the capture of the little girl on the mantle. "She's real pretty. Looks fun to play with too!" She then remembered her previous sentence about the ship and took a drink of the cold milk that had magically appeared in front of her when she wasn't looking. Refreshed again, she asked "Have you ever been on a ship before Miss Hotaru?" Her eyes were wide as she asked, like knowing that if she was, it would make Miss Hotaru even MORE AMAZING that she already was as bringer of cookies and milk and hugs and all that.

A message waiting sign appeared on Hotaru's wavebox. When she opened it, a familiar voice filled the room, and a picture of a woman who had once been the girl in the capture on the mantle was seen.