Logs:A Streetcar Named Supplier
A Streetcar Named Supplier
|Summary:||Johnny and Seraphine follow Mr. Fence (NPC) to his stash house with intent to come back later and steal merch.|
Johnny's Description: This is a guy. Not -the- guy. Just -a- guy. He's just a smidge under six feet tall and his build is ever-so-slightly more wiry than bulky, but he's in well enough shape that he's not a walking, talking, teeth-chattering skeleton. His accent isn't local, definitely, with some serious Southside Chicago influences. His hair is brown. It is... brown hair. Kept mostly short and mostly unstyled more out of laziness than an attention to the bohemian styles of modern youth culture. The man's eyes are green, too, but not emerald green. Not two beautiful pools you could drown in. They're darker. Like fungus. The rest of his features are pretty normal, aside from that punchable, smarmy smile he wears most of the type. His clothes? Eh... leather jacket. Shirt. Jeans. A pair of boots, too. There you go.
Seraphine's Description: MASK: Seraphine is tiny, standing a mere 4' 9" high. She's barely tall enough to ride the rollercoaster, and doesn't appreciate the short jokes! (JK: she loves them). She has pale skin and beautiful pale green eyes with long, raven, blue-black hair. Her make-up is flawless, especially her eye makeup which is smokey and feathery blended. Her eyebrows are drawn in with a dramatic arch. She has long, graceful limbs, sort of like a dancer's, except... not as tall. http://nola.orcpie.fun/wiki/index.php/User:Seraphine
MEIN: Seraphine is tiny, standing a mere 4' 9" high. She has a gaunt look to her face and her body is thin, bordering on emaciated, most likely from years of not being fed properly. She has HUGE, pale green, doll-like eyes and the make-up she originally had on has streaked down her face as if she's been crying heavily. Her skin is cadaver-pale, as if she's never seen a day of sunshine in her life. Consequently her skin, and eyes are ultra-sensitive to the light. https://tinyurl.com/rgdcok6
There's a light drizzle falling, but it's still well above freezing as the shop owner exits the store, pulling up the hood of a pricey, black and gold Saints coat; spare no expense for Mister Fence. He's in his element, so he's not too guarded, just walks to the corner and waits briefly for the street car to come by, before climbing aboard and having a seat, letting his hood drop while he takes out his cell and keeps busy. A few other passengers going home from work also board, before the car starts into motion with a rumbling of the big vehicle on its well worn tracks. Others chatter amongst themselves or bury their noses in their own devices, books -- or knitting, as the case is for one elderly lady.
Seraphine sees their target board the street car and she silently pounds her fists into Johnny's arm as he steadily pulls her along. "You see? You see? We gotta RUN." She hisses, trying to be as quiet as she can but still get the point across. Fortunately she came prepared to boogie; bondage pants and combat boots along with a black hoodie and her hair plaited into two braids. Seraphine is ready to rock and roll this deal. "Come on!"
Johnny is a bit faster than Seraphine, thanks to being taller. His own regular outfit is pretty well suited to speed, too. There's a shake of his head though, jerking his head another direction. "We'll jog. That way. Shortcut to the next street car stop. I memorized the route just in case." And with that he's moving off at an angle, preparing to beat the car to the next stop.
A slow jog is really all that is needed with the cars; this time of night, the max speed of the car on this line is around 20 miles per hour, owing to the amount of other traffic -- pedestrian and otherwise. Somewhere off in the distance, the Christmas season tourists are being serenaded by some bouncy N'awlins jazz, coming out of the front of a neighborhood eatery. Mr. Fence puts his phone to his ear as it makes noise, leaning back to chatter away. He's white as snow but fancies himself a "homeboy", liberal use of the a-ended N-word sprinkling his speech, so the people on the street car around him begin to look uncomfortable pretty quickly. The mooon hits 100% full in mere hours tonight, but it's lost behind the drizzly rain clouds as the car chugs around a bend. It'll be at the next stop some time after they get there, probably.
Seraphine is not athletic. In fact, she's like anything but athletic, so she tries to jog along with Johnny but stumbles a few times and generally makes a fool out of herself. No doubt she'll hear about this for days. Weeks even. So unless he still has her by the hand or arm, she probably arrives just after him. She can see the trolley car coming, but it's not going so fast, and she speeds up to try and make sure they catch it, no matter what. She'll be damned if it's her fault the don't make it.
Johnny does take Seraphine's arm when she can't keep up, even slowing a bit so she's not huffing and puffing when the street car arrives. Once it does, and he's settled his own beating heart, he waits for the man to get off. Patiently. Watching from nearby. Should the man not get off? Well. It's time to jog again. Damn.
Seraphine's lucky without even trying sometimes; the streetcar slows and stops with a squealing of various mechanisms. Mr. Fence is up and moving to get off while others are trying to board. He bumps shoulders with an unfortunate citizen, who's told to, "Check yourself, son," in a threatening tone, as the shop owner clambers down the steps and onto the pavement, still yakking on his phone. He makes no attempt to keep the volume of his voice down as he walks, so not only is he easy to follow, but he also reveals, "Naw, I'm on my way there now. Got to pick up a couple things. You know it," he says, thumbing off the call and shoving the phone into his pocket after rubbing the screen dry on his jeans. He veers down another side street toward where a dark building looms ahead, its twin entrance doors chained together by a padlock. Looks like some kind of abandoned community center from the 70s or 80s.
Just when she thinks they're stopped, they're moving again. She almost cries out that she can't run anymore, but fortunately they slow down to keep pace with the man walking and on the phone, in the Saint's jacket talking away about what he' about to do. Couldn't get much easier than that. Seraphine works to get her breathing normal and heart rate down as they continue to track this guy.
Johnny shoots out his arm in front of Seraphine to keep her from getting too close. The man crouches nearby at the edge the building, watching the man fiddle with the locks. "Double-score. This place was on the list." Johnny says, eyes lighting up a bit. He recognizes the spot, at least vaguely, from the list of 'potential locations for a headquarters." He licks his lips in anticipation, watching, preparing to follow the man inside.
Mr. Fence does at least look a little more guarded now, as he reaches to pull a key out from inside his shirt, on a bubble chain like a wee latch-key kid. He looks left, right, as he slots the key into the padlock and click-clacks to get it open, locking the paddy onto the end of the chain so it doesn't get lost in the process of removing the chain from the twin door handles. There's a CONDEMNED sign on the door as well as a PRIVATE PROPERTY and a DO NOT ENTER and a few others plastered one over the other. He may not even own the place.
Seraphine holds back a bit as Johnny throws an arm out to stop her. Like they're in the car and Dad had to slam on the brakes. She studies the man from their vantage point, loitering just around the corner from where he's at, carefully watching him without him watching them. The darkling looks quickly around the corner and then steps back, trying to play it off in case the man happens to look back at the pair trying to tail him. "What's in there? You already know, don't you..."
"I have an inkling. But we can't go in right now. There's some goods he's got his hands on... and I want some." Johnny says cryptically. He doesn't attempt to approach the man, no. He turns to Seraphine. "We're gonna search the exterior. Try to find another entrance. Then we're getting the fuck outta here and planning a raid when the guy's at his store, so he won't know what hit him."
Mr. Fence slips inside, taking the chain with him and using the flashlight app on his cell phone to light the way for himself. The beam of light moves around inside the place, lighting up slivers between where the windows are boarded up. Stacks of loot here. Piles of junk there. He's headed to a table when there's a shadow moving inside and he's suddenly attacked! Or not. It's a rottweiler that has run up to meet him, bouncing around like a goofy shit while he pets the animal and talks to it inside the darkened center. So they do have *some* security.
"Alright, lets do this thing then." Seraphine whispers. She's perfectly willing to go around and look for a... "Wait a minute, I can distract him! I will knock on the door and pretend I'm looking for... what the fuck kind of building is that? A recc center? A community center?" She looks around to make sure no one has noticed them just near the building, plotting. "I'll get his attention and chat him up while you go around and look for exits or entrances or whatever it is you're looking for." She offers helpfully.
"We're not going in." Johnny says with curious look to Seraphine. "If he knows we were here, he'll beef up security. This place is his storage warehouse." Johnny urges Seraphine to move along with him, to follow him as he moves along the outside of the building, along the wall. Looking for a point of entry or easy access to the roof.
"Fine. Fine, fine, fine." Seraphine mutters. And then she dutifully follows the 'Boss' around here and there about the building, looking for the points of entrance and roof access. She's a little mopey about it though as she had a brilliant plan. I wasn't going /in/, I was just going to hat him up so he wouldn't notice two people walking around the perimeter of his building... that's all."
It's a single story building, not all that big. Three or four rooms -- not even equipped with a gymnasium. Somewhere on the back there's a single rusty basketball hoop that's net long since rotted away. The pavements cracked, all the paint chipping and what-not. 'Zeke' turns out to be the name of the dog, should one listen hard enough to hear him talking to the creature, who is treated to a can of Winn Dixie brand dog chow taken out of a coat pocket and opened on the fly, the lid tossed into a growing pile of trash. Then Fence is rummaging at the table, tossing items into an empty gym bag. iPhone. Fitbit. Some kind of gaudy jewelry.
Johnny grunts quietly as he listens in, not looking through the window. Instead he boosts Seraphine up, so she can put eyes on the man. Safer that way. "Remember everything you see. Tell it to me when we get back to the motel." He reminds her quietly before he offers her his hands to help boost her up.
"Okay." She agrees as quietly as she can as Johnny lifts her tiny frame up and over his shoulders so she can see in. She looks around and quivers a bit when she sees the man. And then she starts to commit everything to memory as she was told. Not big, a couple rooms, a Dog! A rottweiler. Winn Dixie brand, wet dog food, a bag, a lot of tacky bling and a phone and fitbit. That's the best she can see. But she'll keep watching and recording all this in her memory until Johnny brings her back down to earth.
There's a back door to the place, of course; one of those illuminated 'EXIT' signs above it; not lighted at the moment, since the electricity was cut off over a decade ago. Zeke whines as he smells the interlopers outside -- raises his head and makes a whuffing noise -- but then he's back to chomping up the food on his little dollar store Little Mermaid knock-off plate. Fence moves to a different pile of crap and adds a few more items to the bag, zipping up and heading back toward the front door, dangling the chain from his fist. Didn't even bother to give the poor dog fresh water.
Johnny lowers Seraphine once she's had long enough to get the information, dropping her into his arms in a side carry before sweeping her back up to her feet. "We gotta get out of here before the dog catches on. We'll be back." He assures Seraphine, preparing to leave now, and drag poor Seraphine with him!
"He's feeding the dog crappy food. We've got to rescue it! Axle will want to. But not now." She agrees as she is lightly brought back down to earth as if they're a couples skating pair at the olympics. It actually causes her to cant her head slightly, looking at Johnny after her feet are on terra firma. "Where did you learn moves like... " She is cut off as he grabs her by the arm again and they take off like two bats out of hell. Well, one fast bat and one trippy bat.
Mr. Fence moves to the exit, slipping out while Zeke is still busy licking his plate. He closes and padlocks the doors, tucking a pair of air pods into his ears as he walks away with the gym bag, headed back down the street -- but he doesn't head back to the shop right now. Must be meeting someone somewhere else with the goods.Whatever Mr. Fence is up to... it's not what Johnny is concerned about. He's heading off into the night with Seraphine in tow.