[img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjMyLjU5ZDhlMy5RU0JqYjJ4c1lXSnZjbUYwYVc5dUlIQnZjM1FnWW1WMGQyVmxiaTR1TGcsLC4w/tomorrow-wind.regular.png[/img] [indent][color=f49ac2][sub][u] [b]S A M M Y[/b] [/u][/sub][/color] [indent][indent][color=CCCCCC]33[sup]rd[/sup] Street Razors[/color][/indent][/indent] [color=96C24A][sub][u] [b]N O I S E[/b] [/u][/sub][/color] [indent][indent][color=CCCCCC]Bombers MC[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent] [hr]While the sun’s light began to shower over the city of San Marzano, Sammy could feel the combined mercury and moisture continue to rise. She had only been walking away from the car lockup for about 20 minutes or so and already the heat was starting to get to her. It was simply a temperature that was quite different during the day when compared to the bustling busy, refreshing nights. For her last night was mostly the usual with just a few easy carjackings, however this time was different. She had managed to score a sweet Plymouth Superbird. A pretty and pricey little thing indeed. It was a good old 70’s American muscle car with a trademark over the top wing, an item that was taken from the showroom of a collector’s car dealership. Sammy proudly chuckled to herself as she remembered the night. The business owner must have been a complete dumbass in her opinion when she discovered that he was keeping the keys to the vehicle in a poorly locked office room out the back. They weren’t even in a suitable keysafe, just a simple desk drawer. It made for a very easy picking in her opinion and this was another car off her list; another paycheck in her hand. She continued to walk, happily spinning her trench knife round her fingers in a hypnotic flurry, only halting the weapon’s dance as she passed a commonly seen “modern” car. A design that was so boring and bland that she couldn’t resist carving a deep gouge along it’s side panels, all while never missing a beat in her cheerful step. [center][color=#F49AC2]▲[/color][color=#EA9EB6]▼[/color][color=#E1A2AA]▲[/color][color=#D7A69E]▼[/color][color=#CEAA92]▲[/color][color=#C5AE86]▼[/color][color=#BBB27A]▲[/color][color=#B2B66E]▼[/color][color=#A9BA62]▲[/color][color=#9FBE56]▼[/color][color=#96C24A]▲[/color][/center] Noise wondered why she even accepted this job on a Sunday. Nobody works on a Sunday. Not even her boring office job allowed people to work on a Sunday. Maybe she was just bored? She wasn’t a church-goer. Being a sheep was pretty boring too and it made no sense to worship someone who did nothing for you. Her thoughts bled with cynicism as she walked through the streets, seemingly aimless. She was lost. Again. She would’ve asked someone to come with her on this job, but she knew that nobody would take her up on the offer. Nobody worked on a Sunday. Also the humidity was getting to her. She was getting awfully hot in her mask and suit jacket, but she couldn’t take them off. She had a character to portray. A Gang to represent. An appearance to keep. Or else she might be mistaken for some other fucker who walked around. The sweat on her palms made it difficult to grasp the cane that she held. But that was the least of her worries. Even if the weather was better, it wouldn’t change the fact that it was Sunday and she was lost. She was probably going around in circles and she wouldn’t even know. A horrible sense of direction, no map, no transport. Only an address written on a shitty piece of paper that was probably getting damp from the sweat in her hands. As she continued to walk to... God knows where. She saw another person with a mask. A black feline mask was all she could make out from the back. It was possibly Cole. No it couldn’t be Cole. Cole doesn’t have the figure of a woman and he’d be talking up a storm even if nobody was around him. Noisy shit. Who was it? Oversized singlet...Denim shorts… Just slashed a tire with a knife.. Might be Sammy? Of course it is. Noise took this moment to walk a little faster to catch up to the Razor. An odd thing for a Bomber to do when there was no open hostility. Here’s to hoping she got the right name. [color=8dc73f]"Sammy, do you know where this apartment is?"[/color] was the first thing she asked as she walked behind the Razor. You’d think the first thing a Bomber would do is smash the Razor in the back of the head. Or at least, that’s what the public thought of their relationship. You’d be surprised. Sammy heard her name, the sound of fleeting footsteps rushing from the pavement behind and as they hastily drew closer before attempting to stop her in her [i]casual[/i] morning walk. Both through an act of animal like instinct and pure reaction, the black feline instantly spun around, pushing this unknown pedestrian into the side of the car she was previously vandalising, both knife pulled up and towards the belly while the free forearm pressed hard against Noise’s unprotected chest. It was the start of a new week and already some unfortunate individual had just volunteered to become Sammy’s new play toy. Like a cat with a yarn of wool, Sammy felt that was going to enjoy unravelling this unlucky victim little by little. The knife paused as she looked up and glimpsed the face… no the mask. The mask of a raccoon, a mask that she had remembered seeing several long years ago before her time spent behind bars. [color=f49ac2][b]"Noise?"[/b][/color] Sammy seductively licked her lips underneath the black mask of hers, knowing that this person was once a good friend, but somehow something felt different about Noise when Sammy compared her to the memory of a lifetime ago. A different vibe, a different style, and now, a completely different member of society. [color=f49ac2][b]"What [i]DO[/i] we have here?"[/b][/color] she expressed in an excited, curious way, [color=f49ac2][b]"A lowly Bomber that wants to get slashed up by little old me?"[/b][/color] Noise’s beaded eyes stared blankly at the Panther. She remained silent for a moment before speaking up. She wasn’t very comfortable with the knife point pressed to her lower chest. [color=8dc73f]"Yes. I am Noise."[/color] She responded in a very monotone fashion. Although the grip on her steel cane was slightly tighter than before. Noise was pretty ready to beat the fuck out of her if need be. She didn’t know how much Sammy had changed since she last saw her. Clearly she had become a little more insane than she once remembered. [color=8dc73f]"And lowly? No not really. Do you know where the apartment is or not, Sam?"[/color] She added, still quite monotone, if not slightly impatient. She had been in the Bombers for about three years already. Calling her a small fry was almost an insult. She didn’t have time to swing with a Razor, even if it was an old acquaintance. She slowly raised her left hand, showing the address on the tiny piece of paper. Noise made no move to get out of Sam’s violent grip, resisting would make her seem more hostile than intended. She wanted this job done. Sammy rolled her head to the side in a movement that both seemed like she was stretching her neck before a gym workout and in order to pull back enough to see the details more clearly. She glanced over the paper, looking at the scrawl and taking in all the valuable information. [color=f49ac2][b]"Hmmmm, yep."[/b][/color] Sammy replied, snapping her head back into position. [color=f49ac2][b]"You see that street name that you have there? It doesn’t exist. [i]That[/i] is the name of the building complex itself."[/b][/color] She cautiously pulled the knife away from Noise while slowly releasing the forearm pressure from her chest in the process. Tucking the knife away back into it’s holster on her hip, Sammy lifted up her hand next to her head and pointed to two streets that were a little further down the road. [color=f49ac2][b]"It’s down that street there, or that one. It doesn’t really matter since it takes up a block between the two,"[/b][/color] Sammy took a step back away from the girl, giving the Panther enough space to stay clear of that cane of her’s. If Sammy’s memory was correct, that simple metal rod had cracked a few jaws in it's time. Noise felt a pang of irritation well up inside of her. The street name wasn’t a street, it was a building name? A vital piece of information that was left out. The guy who gave it to her is going to be eating steel tonight. Not that she would’ve found the building on her own in the first place. Noise straightened herself as Sammy stepped away instinctively dusting off her clothes and flattening any small creases that may have been made. It was nice to know that she wouldn’t have to crack the girl’s skull, and that Sammy actually gave her directions. She knew that if it were any other Razor, she’d have to beat the information out of them; so she was lucky in that regard. [color=8dc73f]"Alright. Have a nice day."[/color] Noise responded briefly as she swiftly pressed a ten dollar note into the girl’s hand. Paying people for information was a common occurrence as far as Noise knew, especially when it came to the Razors, they seemed to always want some sort of.. ‘Pay’ for their ‘efforts’. Money usually kept their mouth shut as she walked away from them. Although, sometimes when they tried something funny, like touching her ass, their payback was a solid steel rod to the head. Sammy grinned at the prospect of how she had just easily earned a cheap lunch coupon off the lone Bomber. The two girls parted ways with Sammy continuing on the street, staring at the ten dollar bill she held up to the sky in her hands, while Noise took the directions the Razor had given her and set off back to work.