---

"Danica... where are you?" a voice called out on the winds. Danica looked around frantically, she knew the voice but the storm raging around her was preventing her from seeing anything. The snow fell heavy on the mountain top, the air frigid; her breath fell heavy from her lips in clouds of fog. Adjusting her crampon in the wall of ice in front of her, digging the spikes deeper she tried to look around, there was nothing but white. Pulling out her ice tool she swung and dug it into the ice face, chipping away as the frost splattered about. Shoving an ice screw into the face she quickly secured a carabiner and ran her line through it. Another anchor point in place.

"Dani!" the voice screamed as the mountain felt like it shook. Danica's eyes widened as she felt herself loosing grip. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," she spat out as she tried to tie off the line, feeling her feet starting to slip out of place. Snow from above started cascading down like a sheet from above her, knocking her this way and that, shoving her body against the ice face before she began to tumble back.

"Shit," was the last thing she was able to get out before the frantic scream erupted from her lips as she tumbled back; the force of the avalanche from above beat into her body and drove her down; each anchor ripping out of the wall face. There was nothing to stop it. When it was man versus nature, nature always won when it really wanted to.

"Dani!" the voice screamed again.



Danica Graves nearly fell out of her chair as she jerked awake from the nightmare. Sitting up straight and trying to catch her breath as she looked around wild-eyed. It was only a dream.... That was what she kept telling herself as she looked around her apartment, her laptop open to the latest story she was writing. She had finally began to work on the one that she never started after she came back from over seas. Brushing her hair out her face she groaned a bit; her hands dropping down over the edge of her knees.

"Just a dream Dani, snap out of it," she told herself as laced her fingers together. They felt so cold right then. Icy to the touch. She hadn't felt that type of cold in over a year. What was going on? Shaking off the feeling she massaged her fingers a bit as she stood up, pushing her rolling chair back and walking around her apartment. She could hear the city outside her window and more than that she could hear her neighbors. Stepping over to the window she pulled back the curtain and glanced down from her top floor apartment. They were gearing up for a block party. It was the first the buildings had had in quite sometime.

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Lawson propped his elbow up on the edge of his truck, the window rolled down as he drove through the streets of Justice. Today was the day and it seemed him and his bud were taking charge with most of the stuff for the block party. Sure this was the west coast but he wanted to expose the crew to a little bit of southern charm. What better way than to break out a smoker and have a good old fashion Carolina BBQ? No better way in his country mind. He had managed to rent a smoker from a local place and before he knew it he had hooked the monstrosity up to the hitch and was pulling it out of the parking lot.

Pulling up in front of the brownstones he parked and hopped out of the truck, the door closing heavy behind him as he smoothed back his golden hair and slipped his cowboy hat on. His boots scraped the concrete as he walked to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. Lugging some of the wood he had bought over to the smoker, he kicked open the hatch and shoved it in to the already burning embers, stoking it a bit before locking the door shut. "Aww hell yah, Sweet apple wood and hickory. Gonna be some good eats tonight," he laughed to himself. Climbing into the back of the truck he opened the cooler and started pulling out racks of ribs, briskets, and more. Each one already ready for their low and slow cook.

Back over at the smoker he plopped them down on the cast iron grates. Things were coming together. Looking around he didn't see his partner in crime. Placing his fingers along the edge of his lips he let out an ear piercing whistle. "Hey! Whitey! When ya gonna lug them tables out here?" he yelled out towards the buildings in general.



"Already doing it, cowboy. Chill your Stetson

Cam was logging a table under each arm out into the central yard. The man was deceptively strong based on his lean build but as evident my his insane routine, the man was actually a robot or a God, possibly both. He placed the tables down onto the floor and perked his head up. He patted David on the arm and pointed skywards. "Well would you look at that Marine, JD is putting on a little show for us already. I tell you, if I wasn't married.... The soldier laughed as he motioned to the dancing half naked girl in the window before helping his buddy clear out the truck of all its gatherings. Lawson looked up to where Cam was pointing and his jaw went slack as he saw JD, quickly turning around and adjusting his stetson let out a bit of a breath. She was stunning but his country nature wouldn't let him ogle no matter how much he wanted to. "Man, stop looking before your woman catches you," he laughed. The thought lingered in the back of Cameron's mind; how would tonight actually go? He and Lyndsey were newcomers to the Heights and hadn't yet met everyone, even worse was the fact that they had moved into the dead girls apartment; what was her name again? They hoped to fit in with this group of people, in fact, they felt like life depended on it. What's a life without any friends?

Brushing a strand of his blonde hair from his stubbled face, Cameron glanced at his watch before giving his neck a good crack. "Alright marine, I'm going to go get changed for this soiree, be back in a little bit to help you put on the finishing touches" Lawson nodded and went back to work tending to the smoker. he was already drolling but right then he couldn't figure out if it was from the sweet smell of BBQ or from the sweet looking woman dancing in her apartment window. With that said, he headed into the Rose Building and into his apartment where his gorgeous girl waited for him. "What do people wear to Block Parties? I have zero fucking idea" He spoke aloud before heading into the bedroom, hearing the shower running. Turning up the radio a bit as it played a good tune. He peeled off his training clothes and began searching is wardrobe for something to wear, laying out some dark jeans and a black polo shirt on the bed, he gazed into the mirror of a dead girl with his piercing blue eyes and clenched a fist.

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Peyton glanced at herself in the mirror with a hint of self admiration in her eyes. She hadn't touched a drink all night "You go girl" She thought to herself. She was satisfied with her work, it was hidden and she felt safe. Moving over to her laptop, she sat down and checked the tracking notification she had opened just after she had returned to the apartment from the Block Party. The package had reached her sister safe and sound, it was risky sending it to her but Peyton had to know it was in safe hands and after all she had been through, the person she trust most in the world was her sister. They had been through a lot together and it only felt right to do this.

Changing into her PJ's, Peyton ruffled her hair into a mess and glanced out of the window. The party was still in full swing, luckily all the windows were relatively sound proof so she knew she would get a decent nights sleep ahead of her big day tomorrow. Tomorrow she would expose the Lodge and all would be right in the world. As she climbed into bed and prepared to turn off her light, a knock disturbed the history buff. Of course there was a knock at the door at this hour, it was probably Lyle looking to borrow Cowboy Bebop again. Clambering out of bed, Peyton made her way to the front door and swung it open. Her mouth dropped open and her pretty green eyes widened with terror.

"Good evening, Miss Glencross. Thank you for having the good sense to be frightened."

Taking a step back Peyton tried to slam the door shut but the person before her wedged their shoulder into the door and shoved hard, sending her spilling to the floor. Peyton turned to run, trying to scramble to her feet as they stepped in and her apartment door closed; she gulped as she heard the tell tale sound of the lock click into place. She screamed but the block party was at its peak in the streets below and her walls were thick, it was a futile action but she screamed the nonetheless as she felt hands on her body, pulling her back and up off the floor.

They did not utter any words, that in itself was terrifying. The chilling greeting, their voice would be forever etched in her memory and those eyes, they looked almost like they did not belong to such a creature. Tears rolled down her face as they forced it into her pillow, silencing her already muffled screams. They turned off the bedroom lamp leaving only the pink neon glow from an outside sign to illuminate her terrified face. Even with the light, the room now felt darker than black. Peyton felt the cold steel press against the flesh of her temple, her own hand being forced to hold the gun.

"Please. Please stop" She begged into the pillow though she knew it was to no avail and that in mere moments she would meet an inevitable fate. She felt her finger on the trigger and their gloved hand forcing it down. She tried so hard not to succumb, she tried so hard not to squeeze the trigger. How had it come to this?

"Ssshhh, it's over now. You can go home, Peyton"

BANG

The blood splattered as the bullet ripped through her; unforgiving in its path to end her mortality. Her body slowly slipped to the floor as they released their grip on her; her body quickly going cold as the blood pooled beneath her body. On her desk lay a letter, carefully constructed in Peytons handwriting. They stepped out of the apartment, the door closing and locking behind them. The sounds of the party could still be heard below as the neon lights flickers from beyond the other side of the curtain, casting shadows over the once pristine form of Peyton, her lifeless eyes just staring out into the nothingness that now surrounded her.

Mali woke up to the incessant screeching of an unfeeling digital alarm clock, its cold red LED screen flashing 6:00 AM into the darkness. She blinked a few times, taking stock of everything her lower back was sore and her arms felt a bit tight, but that was fine, nothing unusual. What was worse was how the inside of her mouth felt like a chicken finger stuck between two sheets of 2000 grain sandpaper. Sitting up, Mali was eye level with the alarm clock, that sat directly opposite of her across the room. The red flashing of the alarm clock served as the only light source, revealing the unorganized opened boxes left over from moving in and furniture strewn about the room. Getting up out of bed, Mali traversed the treacherous terrain of her bedroom to finally shut the damn thing off.

Tip toeing her way into the kitchen/living room, Mali turned on the fluorescent white lights that made everything way too bright for half a second. Digging through a cabinet she pulled out a matte blue plastic cup and filled it with tap water. She drank it all in one go, appreciating how much a little went to reversing the desertification of her mouth. Briefly, her mind turned to thoughts of eating, but those were shoved out of the forefront. She had to do morning cardio first. Despite this, her eyes wandered over to the fridge anyway. On it was a note written in sharpie ink on yellow paper reminding her that tonight was a party night where everyone in this group of buildings would supposedly be at. Well today was a rest day, and it wouldn't hurt to get to better know the neighbors. Mali made a mental note to try to put together a cute outfit later.

But for now, it was time to run. Mali headed back to the bathroom and changed into a sports bra, a loose-fitting pair of black shorts, a pair of plain white socks and a baggy grey shirt. Fetching the last few necessities (wallet, phone, headphones, keys, a water bottle) and turning off the kitchen light, Mali walked to the door and shoved on her black and yellow running shoes without bothering to redo the laces. As she left the apartment building, she put her headphones into her ears and started thinking about what to do for the party later.

The block parties had always been something Lyle had disapproved of heavily, but always felt inclined to attend in case of the whole block labelling him a weirdo. He always thought it left every apartment up for robbery, bar his of course because both of them always took special procedures when it came to security. So now it was back, and he was already awake and ready for it, pacing back and forth sighing, annoyed that he had closed down his office for the day for some party. Although he enjoyed a party he found he could be getting some productive work done when these people wanted to party.

He had on his hoodie over a red and black plaid shirt, sighing as he looked at the time, biting his tongue annoyed. God where did the time go. He could be getting so much work done if he hadn't promised himself a day off. He wondered what Lana was up to at the moment. He took a quick glances out of his window, his face could be seen appearing and disappearing every so often. There were the two guys out working, getting the preparations rolling and nobody else could be seen outside at the moment, at least from where he looked. He looked away and checked his computer a bit before sliding over to the window again.

It was a nice day, that was for sure,but personally he preferred staying inside than going out. He had put some hastily made cookies in the oven and they'd be ready to come out soon enough. That's the best he could contribute at the moment to this get together. He really hoped Lana wouldn't get annoyed by the slight smell he caused. The boy extracted the ray and put it on a table to get to putting them in packaging.

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The sun was streaming in through the blinds creating slats of bright light that spread across the darkened room. The curtains framing the window kept the sun from flickering across Lana’s face but her radio alarm turning on and blasting a song that made Lana sit upright in her bed. Her eyes looked around the room wildly as she did each morning when the music started to play.

Realising that she was in her own room and that there was no one lying beside her, Lana let out a breath of relief and swung her legs over the edge of her bed letting her feet dangle, her toes brushing the carpet of her room ever so slightly. Rubbing her eyes and slapping her cheeks to waken herself up, she stretched her arms up high above her and leaned back. Slipping off of her bed as she did so, Lana crumpled onto the floor with a satisfied groan before a loud yawn interrupted the sounds of pleasure.

Jumping back up from the floor in a single motion, she bounced from foot to foot as she began to dance in her room in her t-shirt and underwear. Making her way to the bathroom, she turned the blinds, opening them, and let the full beams of light flood in as she went to have a shower and brush her teeth.

Wandering out in a cloud of steam wearing nothing but a towel on her head, Lana glanced around her now illuminated room and smiled. Today was definitely a good day! She was looking forward to the block party. It would be the first one she’d ever been to and she was making it a point to make sure that she would enjoy it. She’d never settled anywhere long enough to get to know her neighbours and even her having a roommate was a new experience for her but so far it was… okay.

The song that was playing now really suited Lana’s personality and she grinned as she began to put her underwear on, dancing all the while, her tiny hips swaying and shimmying to the music. A growl of gigantic proportions roared from her stomach and she ran her hands over her scarred skin. “Time for breakfast!” Grabbing a tight t-shirt and throwing it over her head, Lana glanced down at her less than ample chest and shrugged. She was happy with what she had and besides, Lyle was usually in his bedroom doing whatever it was he did all day, not like he would see anything.

Opening up her door, the next song from her radio blared out into the shared living space and Lana danced her way from her bedroom door towards the kitchen. She smelt something delicious and figured it must be coming from outside. She was head banging to the music and her eyes were closed as she sang along despite going out of tune a couple times but she didn’t care. That was until she saw Lyle packing up some cookies that he had clearly just finished making. “Blyad'!”

Her long, black hair was wild and unruly (as well as slightly wet) and she was in nothing but her shirt and a pair of black lace panties. She had no idea that he wouldn’t be in his room! Lana turned on her heel and ran straight back to her sanctuary. If Lyle caught sight of her, he’d notice a scar on her left buttock near to the top of her thigh that looked like a letter V.

The door slammed shut behind her as she banged her head against the wood of the door, her body slid to the ground as her face turned red in embarrassment. She buried her face between her knees and took a minute to calm the horror of the situation. Oh GOD! He’d seen her without her make-up on! She hurried around and got the basic of basic make-up on that she needed to feel comfortable, plus it would make her red face less obvious.

Happy with her work, she quickly grabbed a pair of leggings and threw them on. They were a little sheer but after what Lyle had just got an eyeful of, they were more than acceptable. Slowly opening her room door, Lana slipped back out into the living area and slunk into the kitchen again, hoping that he hadn’t seen anything. Walking to the kitchen sink, Lana grabbed a glass from the cupboard above and ran the cold tap, filling her glass. She took a drink and then sat it down on the breakfast before turning to address Lyle.

“Uh, morning Lyle. The cookies for the party today?” She leaned against the breakfast bar and drummed her fingers on the counter top behind her as she looked to Lyle with her big, deer like eyes. This was probably going to be a little awkward for one reason or another.

---

Cecily's hands were steady as she added samples of the victim's blood to each of the individual containers. The businessman's death had been unexpected -- but then again, that was true with most of the deaths sent to the forensic team. The spectrophotometer behind her had been most helpful in isolating the likely killer -- mercury poisoning -- yet that alone wouldn't be enough. Still, this was where her job ended. Placing the little vials in a rack, she handed them over to another technician, who quickly scribbled his name on the accompanying sheet of paper, releasing Cecily from responsibility towards the vials.

Exiting the laboratory, she checked her watch -- it was only 7:40 AM. She'd been called into work early that morning -- or rather, late that night -- and hadn't got a wink of sleep. If she didn't love her work, she doubtlessly would have complained. Her battered up impala awaited her in the parking lot, and she climbed into it, rubbing her eyes before inserting her keys. Sometimes, she'd forget whether or not she'd washed her hands afterwards -- it made her wonder how much blood would show up on her steering wheel.

No matter.

She drove home, only to groan and hit her head against the wheel when she remembered what day it was. It was the day of the infamous block party, in which any possibility of sleep was quickly forgotten. Grumbling, she parked and turned off her car, only to catch an eyeful of her neighbors running around like fools. She could see them looking up at something, but she didn't care to know. She just wanted some goddamn sleep.

After dodging her neighbors, she made it up the stairs and into her tiny little apartment. Collapsing onto the sofa, she heard a crinkle beneath her -- and felt like sobbing, as she recognized it as being one of her favorite comic books.

"Fucking hell," Cecily muttered, jumping up and attempting to assess the damage to the comic book. "This is just great."

The front cover had torn, yet she was far too sleepy to do anything about it. Tossing the book aside, Cecily rolled over and attempted to shut out the rest of the world, almost daring anyone to disturb her. God help them if they did.

Tank opened his eyes slightly, gazing around his cramped apartment without moving a muscle. As soon as he had moved here, he knew it would be a bit less roomy than his last place. Apartment sizes were often larger with numbers, and they got progressively smaller the more reliant on letters they were. Apartment A's were usually shitty basement apartments, private restroom optional. When he was sure that no one was in here with him, he leaped out of the bed.

He scratched his unkempt hair and groaned, using his free hand to turn the TV on. His big toe touched the power button to his 360, and suddenly it zoomed onto the screen. He clicked 3 buttons, and his playlist came on. Touch, Peel, and Stand suddenly popped up, and he headed towards the bathroom, passing by one of his posters. His shower was quick, and luckily it didn't seem to be full of shit. Couldn't say the same for the people in the city, he told himself.

He put on his pants, and buttoned up his shirt before he took a look outside. Two white males working. He recognized them from his daily scope outs. Not hard to figure out. One seemed to have a significant other, the lankier one. He'd meet them later at the block party. He had the time, after all. He didn't need to go into the precinct yet. Not for another few weeks. They gave him some time to get accustomed to the move and the city. Took him about 3 days for both, but he wasn't about to complain.

He put his effects in his pockets. He checked to see his pistol was full, and placed it into easy reach on his person, grip poking into the small of his back from within his shirt. His switch blade was in his sock. "Time to start trouble." he said to himself, opening the door and sliding out. He needed food, and decided he'd go out and get some.

Jezebel Wintergerald

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There was little in life that was better for a drug dealer’s business than a party. Even if the host was zealously anti-drugs, there’d always be that handful of stragglers who wanted to let loose and have a good time. When she was a kid, Jezebel Wintergerald had pushed her wares down at the community centre, but nowadays her customers tended to make their way to her.

Once she’d established herself a reliable reputation, the money had come pouring in.

“You really are your father’s daughter.” Her mother had said to her when she’d found out about her dealing.

“Go deep-throat a chainsaw.” She had responded.

They hadn’t spoken much after that. Not that she cared.

Life without her parents had proved to be everything Jezebel hoped, with very few drawbacks to speak of. She was her own boss, best friend, arch-enemy, confidant, and critic, and she loved every minute of it. If she felt down she did shrooms, if she needed to relax she smoked a joint, and if she needed a buzz then she dropped some mandy. All her bills were paid on-time, the fridge was full of food, and she got to meet all sorts of crazy characters.

Not a bad deal, given that all she had to do was sit on her arse and wait for a text.

Jezebel was out shopping in one of those ritzy, clothes shops when she got her first order of the day.

“Honestly, my dear, it's like wearing warm butter…” The shop assistant babbled whilst Jezzie slid into the $430 leather jacket, just as her second (Pay-as-you-go) phone let out a dull buzz.

She flipped it open.



All of the contacts of Jezebel’s “work” phone were saved under cat names.

“I’ll take it.” She said with a friendly smile, forking $400 worth of bills out of her wallet.

“Is it okay if I pay in cash?”

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The grizzled Mexican sat up in his bed with at start, teeth bared underneath a handlebar moustache that would have splintered plywood with its magnificence, coupled with the force of his emergence into the waking world. He white-knuckle clenched a worn but polished machete in one hand (Christ, does he sleep with the thing?), his other balled into a fist. Hazel eyes darted about, blurry with sleep, attempting to find a target for angry, martial attentions.

His eyes widened as the shackles of nocturnal rest began to fall away. A pain - phantom pain, really, like the memory of an old trauma hauling back long put-aside sensory information, exploded on the back of his neck. Before he realized, he had already slapped a hand to cover the sensation. With an odd feeling of guttural anxiety, slowly waking eyes came level to his palm, questioning.

The older man expected to see blood. When he did not, his brain clicked to the "Mostly Awake" setting. What the hell was going on? He took a mental assessment of his situation. His name was Caesar Hannibal Gonzalez. He was in his new apartment in Justice, California. He was in town on business, kinda, and his daughter lived in the next building over.

"M'hija!"

Alicia pulled out a pan of enchiladas that she had been working on all morning, well it wasn't the first pan. There were several. The little Taco Belle was rather excited about the block party that was happening that evening. She hadn't ever been to one but she had friends in Seattle and back east that had. She had given them all calls and drilled them on the protocol. The number one suggestion, bring food because there was never enough. Considering when her and Papi got together with Lorna they would eat two pans between the three of them she figured it was a good idea to make a lot more. Placing the pan on a towel that rested on the kitchen counter she shoved another pan into the oven and hip checked it closed.

"Cookie! Where did you put the mole sauce I made the other day?" she yelled out to her roomie as she rummaged through the refrigerator. Shoving aside several cases of beer and left overs she finally found it buried in the back. Reaching in she grabbed it. Lorna heard Alicia calling out and then the tell tale rustling and clinking of a fridge being raided. She opened her mouth to reply but was quickly cut off. "Never mind, found it!" Shrugging, Lorna went back to reading her copy of "Blades Galore: Machete Special", her feet propped up on the coffee table.

Caesar fumbled for his phone on the nightstand and frantically smashed his index finger onto the picture of his daughter, Alicia, knocking over a mostly empty bottle of Patrón in the process. Five nerve wracking, finger tapping rings later, the line opened on the other end. Taking the initiative (and managing a breach of telephone etiquette in the process), he blurted out, "M'hija? M'hija, are you ok? I had a really fucked-up dream you got pulled out of a truck and eaten - wanted to make sure you were okay. You okay?"

Alicia pulled the phone away from her ear as her father yelled from the other side before putting it back to her ear. "Papi, what the fuck are you babbling about? Eaten? Who ate me?" she asked before covering up the microphone of her phone and looking over towards Lorna. "I think Papi has done lost it. Not in a go gut a pendejo way, like mentally." Putting the phone on speaker she looked back down at the phone. "Papi... did you stay up late last night drinking tequila and watching The Walking Dead again?" Snorting at Alicia's side of the conversation, Lorna closed her magazine over and placed it on the coffee table. She sat forward and watched Alicia from her perch on the sofa.

Back on the other end of the line, Caesar squinted his eyes at the soft, cool glow of the flatscreen television on the wall opposite him in the room. It was set to a simply colored DVR screen; blue background with rounded, white letters, patiently waiting for input from the beleaguered Mexican, prompting him with the unwavering suggestion: "AMC - The Walking Dead - Play next episode?"

Still clutching his machete, Caesar reached over to set upright the bottle of Patrón he had knocked over a moment ago. He exhaled heavily and swung his feet over the side of the bed, settling them into a pair of white bunny slippers upon the floor. ...stay up late drinking tequila and watching The Walking Dead... "Umm.. No?" he answered unconvincingly.

"Alicia, tell Papi he needs to cut down to a bottle a night instead of two. Who the fuck dreams about people being eaten? Now being fucking shot through the chest, that is a normal nightmare." Lorna patted the spot just above her heart and rubbed it as a sudden pain shot through her heart. "Well that feels fucking weird. Oi Leash, we got anything for heartburn?"

"Better than having your neck cut by that chick from Resident Evil," Alicia quipped as she tossed the bottle of rolaids over to Lorna. Grabbing it in mid-air, Lorna necked a couple before placing the bottle on the coffee table beside her prior reading material.

Caesar heard Lorna's comment, a thing that would ordinarily cause him great annoyance. For some reason, hearing her voice also gave him a fleeting sense of relief. "Ey, is that Cookie? She doing good, too? I, ah... think I remember something... Look, M'hija, I'm feeling a little strange. I'm gonna find something to get into. What's my niña doing today?" He took a pull from his bottle, savoring the subtle flavors of his 80 proof breakfast.

"Aye Papi, Cookies fine. We're just getting ready for the block party. Get over here and help me with the fucking taquitos, they ain't gonna cook themselves," she said with a smirk as she looked over to Lorna. Lorna simply rolled her eyes and shrugged, muttering to herself. "Well I ain't a bloody cook..." Taking a deep breath Alicia smelled something and screamed. Miscommunication is a bad thing. Intentional, unintentional, doesn't matter. Information is not passed along, is altered, and/or context gets lost. It was precisely this last difficulty, context, that led Caesar to perform certain actions following his only daughter screaming, "Fuck me!!" as she dropped her phone, the phone clattering to the floor and the call going dead. After the nigh premonition/past life regression dream he still hadn't shaken, coupled with his natural protective instincts, the most logical conclusion the venerable warrior could come to involved him finding the source of his M'hija's alarm and destroying it in the most violent, splattering manner possible. And so, he rose.

"My enchiladas!" she yelped as she ran over to the oven and pulled out a nearly burned batch.

Lorna fell back onto the sofa and laughed at the look on Alicia's face, snorting as she laughed harder the moment she saw the burnt remains. "Shall we order out for Taco Bell, my dear Taco Belle?" Lorna smirked and jumped over the back of the sofa, awaiting the inevitable assault of projectiles from Alicia's direction for her dumb comment. Alicia glared over towards Lorna as she hipped checked the oven closed and started to walk towards her roommate, still holding the bubbling burnt pan of Mexican cuisine. "Come here, I'm about to make a savory cookie." Snorting, Lorna held her hands up in defeat. "C'mon now, Leash. Y'know I've a sweet tooth an'all. Lets not be hasty..." The childish smile was one that she only ever used when she was messing around with Alicia.

Caesar rose from his bed, still clutching his machete and almost empty bottle of tequila. He started at a sprint, moving with the speed and ferocity of a cheetah beset with chronic intestinal distress gunning for the crapper. In scant seconds, he had bounded out of his basement apartment and onto the street above, a constant animalistic growl growing to a deafening roar, announcing his presence before he exploded into the general public clad only in a pair of smiley face boxers and fuzzy, white, bunny slippers. The Power of 'Stache compels him; it was a formidable power indeed.

Suffice it to say, it was not taken well. Lawson slowly looked over from the smoker, his baby blue eyes peering through the cloud of smoke wafting up from the wood, trying to fan it away. He really couldn't be seeing what he was seeing, could he? "That be the most confusing thang I done seen since Ma tried to rope a turkey with slinky. What the hell that man be up to?"

The elder man's tattoos, visible for the first time by most of his new neighbors, seemed to ripple and seethe with rage as his long, dark hair screamed behind him, not unlike tassels on a little girl's ubersatanic bike handlebars. The roar continued with the same level of terror inspiring gusto, never pausing, never ebbing, as he ran the few meters down the street necessary to gain access to his daughter's apartment. Alicia stepped closer to Lorna, about to throw the entire pan at the Marine when all hell broke loose.

A single fuzzy, white bunny hovered in the air for a half-second before smashing open her front door. Splinters twisted in the wake of the wooden portal's murder as it exploded open, revealing to those inside the feral and vorpal outline of an almost naked Caesar, screaming to any and all within earshot, "AAAAAAAAHH!!! DADDY'S HERE, M'HIJA! IT'S STABBING TIME!"

Alicia jumped, "THE FUCK!!!!". The pan went up into the air as she reached under the side table next to the couch for her pistol. The saucy concoction of burnt cheese and corn tortilla flew out of the pan, hitting the wall and splattering every where and on everyone like Napalm. "It burns!!!" she screamed as she tried to wipe away the red sauce from her eyes and hair and everything else. Stumbling over the coffee table and falling right through it as it gave way under her.

Lorna saw everything pretty much exploding and she froze in sheer shock at the sight of Caesar busting his way through their door practically naked. The pan flying in the air caught her attention enough that she rose her hands up to shield her face before her body crumpled into a ball on the ground as she tried to protect herself behind the sofa from all the projectiles. The splinters from the door flew everywhere and she could feel a couple bits hitting against her as the searing hot sauce landed on her exposed arms, hands and down the back of her neck through her hair. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ON A STICK! YA GOD DAMN BASTARD, THIS BURNS!" Lorna grabbed a pillow from the sofa and began to wipe the sauce away with the side of the cover that hadn't been caked in sauce. If it weren't Papi and Alicia that had been the culprits of her discomfort, Lorna may well have just belted someone. But these two got a free pass.

"Papi!!! ¡Qué mierda! ¿Qué carajo crees que estás haciendo?" Alicia bellowed as she tried to get up from the remains of her poor table, may it rest in peace. Rolling out of the debris she slowly stood up, pulling queso cheese from her hair as she looked over to her father. "Papi... You gots some 'splanin' to do..." Lorna blinked at the Spaniard exchange and shrugged. "Why is it that I still don't know any Spanish after living with ya for so long?" Taking her skip cap off, Lorna noticed the mass amount of cheese that had slapped on top of it. Well she wasn't gonna be wearing that today it seemed, not unless she wanted to look like a literal side dish.

Shaking her head to try and dislodge bits of food, Lorna looked over to the father-daughter combo and rose her hands up before slapping them off each other, as if getting rid of dust. "I'm out. Papi, mornin' to ya but I can't stand here and look at ya practically starkers, so I'm gonna get this shit outta my hair 'fore it dries in. I'll get the skinny later and help clean up once I'm clean. Try not t'kill each other." With that, Lorna wandered into the bathroom and started the shower up. She looked at the bottle of dye that she'd been considering using and figured it was time for a change. Her hair was looking a little too post-apocalyptic these days anyway, time to freshen up before she looked even more like the living dead.

Caesar surveyed the scene of broken wood and spatially rearranged Mexican entree. He was breathing heavily, hastily looking around for the first thing and/or person he was going to vivisect. Sadly, there was no target to be had here. Alicia had crashed through her coffee table, but not before dousing him (and everything else) in scalding enchilada sauce. His aggressive concern over his daughter's safety abated, flowing away from one heartbeat to the next. It was replaced by profound irritation.

"God DAMNIT M'hija! Why the fuck you gonna scare me like that?! What the hell is wrong with you? Qué chingados, M'hija?"

"¿YO? No soy el hombre entró por la puerta como maldito Kool-Aid puta!" Alicia exclaimed as she pointed to the door and then put her hands to her head and pushed her damp sauce ridden hair back. "My door Papi! You're paying for that! Fix it Papi!" she said as she went full Chica mode.

He noticed the fast retreating Lorna, recognizing she had concerns about her hair. True, she'd been looking a little frayed lately. Not "work is hectic" frayed, more like "Walking Dead casualty". Caesar quieted himself until she left the room to clean up, holding gaze with his daughter all the while. As his face came to hers Alicia froze, she knew that face. She was in deep churros now... He motioned at her with his blade and spoke with a slightly quieter, but no less grave voice. "Alicia Maria Juanita Sophia Gonzalez, don't you ever scare me like that again."

Lowering her head she clasped her hands together in front of her like she was a small child, swaying back and forth. "Ay Papi..." He lowered his machete and continued, "I'm going to go get cleaned up. I'll be back in a little bit to help with..." He waved his bottle of Patrón about, "...this."

Caesar sighed, turning to step back out of the hole that used to be a solid, stable door. In a more cheerful voice, he called out, "Be back in a little while, Cookie!" and returned to the street above.

Apparently, the sight of an older Mexican in smiley boxer shorts and fuzzy, white bunny slippers out in public was a spectacle. This particular spectacle carried a machete and a bottle of booze, a sticky red mystery fluid dripping from his face and arms; naturally it was ever-so-slightly offputting to the casual passerby. People stared. Instead of addressing each one individually or the lot of them as a group, Caesar singled out the nearest pedestrian he didn't know, shouting, "Fuck you staring at, Asshair?" before returning to his own home and slamming the door behind him.

Lawson just stood there with his wet basting brush, sauce dripping on the baby back ribs as he watched the entire scene unfold, his mouth agape. "Nothing sir," he quickly said as he turned his attention back to the food and let out a rather quick breath as his eyebrows raised. "Not going for a tumble weed tango with that hombre.."

Alicia flopped onto the couch and just surveyed the damage. Her door, her table, her poor enchiladas... Groaning she ran her finger along her cheek and pulled away from sauce on the tip. Shrugging she stuck it in her mouth to taste. "Fucking shame..."

Inside his apartment, Caesar retrieved his phone and hammered in Alica's landlord's number. From the street outside his building, the muffled exclamations of the older man could be readily heard, "Culo! My daughter's front door suddenly exploded! Fucking fix it! ...and clean her carpet. It's a disgrace."

The smell of fresh baking wafted through the apartment, lingering from an afternoon of baking with a thick cloud of sticky sweetness. It wasn't polite to show up at any gathering without something to offer, and Lyndsay white had been raised to be the opposite of impolite. Plastic tupperware tubs were stacked on the kitchen table, lids half open so the sugary treats wouldn't sweat in the still warm air from the oven. The windows were open, the sound system playing a country radio station that no doubt Cam would change as soon as he entered the apartment, and steam billowed from the slightly open bathroom door.

Lyndsay had been preparing for the block party all afternoon, while Cam had helped set up the main furniture for it down in the courtyard. She'd finally decided that there were probably enough desserts to feed a small army, and shed her apron in favour of changing into something a little more suitable for a party than yoga pants and one of Cam's old band t-shirts. Upon finding flour in odd crevices as she stripped her clothes off, she decided a quick shower was probably in need.

She was singing along to an upbeat country song when she heard the tell-tale signs of Cam's return. She smiled to herself as she heard him drop his keys onto the table by the door, switch the radio onto something he liked and sigh. He was a man of routine, and his predictability and stability was something that calmed her. She switched the shower off and stepped out of it, wrapping a towel around herself to protect most of her modesty, she padded bare footed into the bedroom, shaking her usually straight blonde hair out of it's clip, now slightly curly due to the steam of the shower.

Lyndsay heard Cam's little grumble as she turned the corner, and chuckled. "Knowing your go-to outfit for fancier things, I'd guess jeans and a polo" She didn't even have to look at the bed to know she was probably right. She stepped up behind Cam as he stood infront of the mirror, nuzzling her lips against a small scar on the back of his shoulder, her arms wrapped around him from behind, palms resting on his bare chest. "Why so tense, love? Nervous?" She pressed a kiss lightly against his jaw, icy blue eyes smiling at him through their reflection in the mirror.

"You know me, just get a little worried sometimes. Don't want everything to fall to shit" Cameron replied as he felt his wife press up against him. The party tonight would be his first big gathering since, well since he got back from Iraq. He had worked so hard to make sure everything had been perfect for them since they moved into the Heights. Everything had to be precise, routine was what kept Cameron's dark demons at bay. "I'm gonna shower, babe. Too bad you were just in there, you could've joined me" Cam laughed before peeling himself away from his young bride and ripping her towel off with a large laugh before entering the steam filled room. The scolding hot water felt good on his constantly aching body. Years of battle and constant training to keep his body in shape had taken a good toll on him. The water dripped across his scars with the heat dulling the pain and making him feel like a normal person again, even if it was only for a few minutes.

Emerging from the bathroom The former solider smiled at his wife with a cheeky grin and bright blue eyes. "See anything you like, Mrs White?" He chuckled to himself before moving passed her and back into the bedroom. The apartment itself was pretty small and basic but it was homely. They had made some changes when they moved in, after all, everything that had been in there before belong to a dead girl, so it had all pretty much been confiscated by the police. The few things that remained were a wardrobe, some kitchen utensils and the bedroom mirror. Switching the song on their stereo, Cam moved back over to Lyndsey and pulled her close.

"Dance with me lady"

Ridiculous, he was ridiculous. But she loved it. Lyndsay squealed playfully as he whipped the towel from her body, reaching to pinch at his behind as he sauntered into the bathroom. She grinned to herself, allowing herself a little stretch before reaching into her drawer, grabbing out a matching pair of lace underwear and bra, and slipped them on. She busied herself while he showered, settling herself down onto the edge of the bed, she ran a brush through her hair, applying a little makeup, but no more than she usually wore. She stood to retrieve the rest of her clothes that she'd laid out, and only managed to slide her arms through the sleeve of her blouse, before Cam pulled her towards him.

"I'm trying to make myself presentable, do you mind?" She emphasised let her soft, southern drawl at the end of her sentence, pretending to be outraged as Cam spun her towards him. Her arms wrapped up around the back of his neck, fingertips sliding themselves up into the back of his hair. She pressed a light kiss against his lips and let him lead her in the slow dance. Glancing over at the clock after a few minutes, she nudged her nose against his cheek, opening her eyes. "We have to be down there in 15 minutes."

"Fine, spoil sport" Cameron kissed her deeply before letting go. It was time to get ready for their party and as always, Cam would go simple and effective with his jeans and polo combo. The jeans were a dark blue with a dirty tint to them and his simple black polo shirt worked well to accentuate his ripped torso and physique. He wasn't as physically imposing as his fellow marine David but he was leaner and more defined. He combed his dirty blonde hair to one side and applied a mixture of face and skin scream. Hey, a man could take care of himself too. Once dressed, he turned to see his wife had beaten him too the punch. "Damn, Lyndsey you look amazing. I am one lucky bastard" He grinned before taking her hand. "Shall we?"

While Cam was busy getting ready himself, she slipped on her own outfit, even though California wasn't as scorching as her hometown was, she still appreciated the hot weather, tugging on a pair of cute jean shorts and a black lace shirt, clingy and low cut enough to make her feel a little risque, but modest enough for a married woman. She clipped an old necklace around her neck, one that Cam had no doubt gotten her as a "I'm sorry I'm leaving for a tour present" and ran her fingers through her hair, messing the loose curls a little. She spritzed on a little perfume and turned back to Cam. She rolled her eyes a little at his comment, but a grin curled over her lips anyway. "Let's. Wouldn't be a block party without the Whites. Who..." She laughed softly as she looked down at both of their outfits. "Have both chosen to wear black" She grinned up at him again, lacing her fingers with his. "I'll run back up for the desserts later, for now, let's go win the cutest couple award.""

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Riley had gotten up early that morning as she drove her Mustang down the street loud music could be heard from her car as she drove through the streets of Justice. Riley had spent her early morning going to the studio for another recording session with some of her bandmates. Then after that she had gone to the gym to get some exercise in, as well as taking a few of her self defense classes which she enjoyed quiet a bit. But after all of that Riley could feel her stomach starting to growl rather loudly and decided to stop by a McDonalds, she thought for a moment and ordered something for her roommate Cecily as well getting two egg muffins and two hashbrowns she paid and headed back towards her apartment.

Another song came up which Riley started singing along to when she eventually got back to Boston Heights where she had been staying for the past month. Riley parked her car and got out of it while holding her tray of drinks as well as breakfast for her and Cecily. Riley looked over towards Lawson one of her neighbors in the same building that she was living in with a giant smoker and could smell it. "Smells really good Lawson!." Riley smiled as she started to head up the stairs towards the apartment she caught a glimpse of JD dancing pretty much in just her underwear the girl was pretty cute. Riley quickly headed up towards the third floor.

Riley quickly slipped her key into the door and twisted it, she looked towards Cecily laying down on the couch tossing what looked like one of her comic books to the side. Riley had know Cecily for about a month now she was a cute nerdy girl, Riley had always been a respectful roommate and did her own care for the apartment while Cecily did hers. "Long night?" Riley asked as she set the food down onto the counter in their kitchen as she reached into the bag and pulled out her muffin. "I wasn't sure if you were hungry or not, but I went and got you some breakfast." Riley said as she quickly dug into her muffin.

Riley was actually excited for the block party tonight she had only talked to a small number of her neighbors but she didn't know them a whole lot just yet. Riley then moved over towards the book that Cecily had thrown onto the floor and moved it over and set it where Cecily had the rest of her stuff. "Excited for tonight?" Riley asked and noticed that the girl was pretty tired. "Sorry if I woke you by the way i'll be quiet." She then decided to move back towards the kitchen and continue eating and decided to just be quiet if Cecily wanted to rest she would let her do it in peace.

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The world of Justice is unlike many places. Crime and corruption run rampant in the streets and it takes those who are wise to the underground life to survive. Some, once they enter the gates of the city, are never able to come back out again. Final breaths are common in this urban jungle sprawl. So, when will yours be drawn? Will you survive what the city has in store for you? Let us find out.

Now we have begun, and your characters are here and accounted for. Some of you all are tucked away in your apartments currently. Those that are and have been there for a time might be a little on edge. The sun can been seen peaking out from a few wisps of clouds above the towering city sky line. The forecast today on the news talks of warm weather but pleasant. The humidity shouldn't be a problem today and allergy alerts are nil. The news goes onto tell you about various happenings within the city and through out the nation. There is even a mention of the block party today, that the people of Boston Heights are finally moving on. You see on the TV if you are watching Lawson with his Cowboy hat waiving like an idiot and telling his ma hi. Like she will see this back in South Carolina but he doesn't care. News breaks to the usual run down of murders and shootings over the last evening. The list is always long, the cops usually have no leads. It is truly amazing that in a city with such a dense population that no one ever sees anything, even when it happens right in front of their face. The murders seem to be random, perhaps a little too random. Nah, that's just Justice. Justice is in the streets and between the sheets for those that care for it. The rest simply mourn at the city graveyard.

This block has not had a party since that dreadful night. Some of you lived in the apartments when it happened. You may remember the day after the block party, when the cops showed up and started knocking on everyone's doors; asking if they had seen anything, was she acting off. To your knowledge everything seemed fine but where you really paying that much attention? I mean it was a party. People were eating, laughing, drinking. Things get blurred quickly. The stretcher was rolled out down the steps of the brownstone, that tell tale black bag with a body within in it being carted off and placed into the back of an ambulance to be taken to the morgue. The place seemed to lose all friendliness after that date and it took months for people to feel safe to come out of their apartments to mingle once again; the front steps where many hung out to chat were empty. Sure it was deemed a suicide but that didn't make many feel any safer. That was Justice for you.

Those of you that moved in after the murder have perhaps heard rumors as other whisper in dark alleys or as plans of the new block party came up. People like to talk, especially about the dead. You could have heard all sorts of things, do you really believe any of it? How come when someone dies suddenly everyone becomes their best friend? Standing in front of news cameras saying what a good soul that person was and how close they were, how much they will miss them. The shallowness of humanity really seemed to come out when someone dies but it isn't hard to see who is truly grieving is it? Those who have the true weight on their shoulders show it in the silence of the black, not the white of the spotlight.

@Dragoknighte Mali has left for her run, earphones in. Can you blame her? The sounds of the streets are loud at all hours of the day. If you want to have any thoughts of your own you are better off blaring music into your ear drums than to try to listen to the jackhammers of roadwork. You have a choice - which way do you go? To the south of Boston Heights, the construction is the heaviest, a lot of the sidewalk is torn up. To the North, things are quieter and there is a park that many go running on but it has all those with pets out there and people aren't really good at cleaning up after their pets. You get the drift. Now, you another option, you could go east - there is no construction that way and no dogs but there is mostly only alleyways to dart down and weave through, which hold their own problems. (Pm Me which direction you chose to get the information for your chosen route and what your character might see.)

@POOHEAD189 Tank has opted to head out and get a bite to eat. Probably a good idea, there will be food at the block party but it won't be for a while. Lawson says hi as you walk by. You will need to head south through the construction to get to any food. The alleyways to the west and the park to the north aren't going to offer you anything. These are your choices for food as you head out. shawarma, ever had shawarma? I haven't but I hear it is pretty good. Tony Stark gives it two thumps up. Baraka Shawarma is the place for it and the owner seems nice enough. Wanting Chinese? Then Best Chinese is the place to go, they didn't get to creative with the title. Then of course next store there is Rock-N-California Rolls, the local sushi joint. There's Seraphim's Bakery on the corner; oh my god, you should try their red velvet doughnuts. Lawson swears by them. Last but not least Is Juno's Greek - a little bit of a dive but hey their mint lamb is to die for and hell the women that work there are second to none on the eyes. (Pm me which place you chose to grab a bit to each at to get the information on the place and what all you may see or hear.)

@Kingfisher Jez is out spending that hard snorted cash, is that bill a little curled from last night? If it is you don't give a damn. Why would you? Nearly every bill in the U.S. has cocaine residue on it. Contact is a bitch, especially in the city. They take you cash, they don't care. It spends like everything else and unlike a card, it is much harder to trace. Where will you head now? The Ritzy District, known as Diamond Quarters is your own personal Rodeo Drive, the clientele might be a little on the high end but there are plenty of slummers about. Outside of your shop there are many more to chose from. Eugene's sells the best hand crafted bike boots and leather pants on the west coast. Tiffany's, yeah, they got the jewelry but are you really into those turquoise boxes? And don't they register ever last purchase? Nah for a slick chick like Jez, it would be better to head down to Crimson and Clover for anything flashy. They know how to protect your privacy. Diamond Quarters is about ten blocks north of Boston Heights. So, time to head to the party or not? (Pm me with which way Jez is headed to get information on what she may see or hear.)

@Nallore @DizzyIsabella @Sigil @Morose @Charnobylisk @Scallop @Xtreme - The rest of you are either still in your apartments or on the street right in front of it from what I am seeing in the posts. Thanks to Cam the tables are out there and ready, most of them are empty so far. Lawson has the smoker going and has managed to finally get the camera's out of there after his little "Hey Ma!" greeting. They might be back. The rest of the block is slowly coming out of their apartments. Some are bringing drinks, some food, some just themselves. A DJ by the name Ally Cranks has set up in the middle of the blocked off street and is getting ready for the festivities, right now though she is just letting a playlist stream through the speakers. It started of soft enough, but as each minute ticks by the music grows louder and louder until you can feel the thump of the base coming up through your feet. The time of day is early afternoon currently and the weather forecast seems to be holding true. That is a first, Ron Fellowman isn't exactly known for giving out the best forecasts but hey that Oompa Loompa is laugh worthy.

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Right now everything seems calm, that is except for the Landlord, who has suddenly appeared with a new door and a carpet cleaner as he heads right down to 2D for the Rose building; muttering nervously to himself about not wanting to even know how a door exploded. Welcome to Boston Heights.

Cecily Ashworth
Classic Building 3C
Interacting With: @Nallore

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"Long night?"

Cecily jumped a bit, immediately scrambling for her cell phone. Realizing that it was her roommate and not the medical examiner calling for her, Cecily relaxed a bit, giggling. She looked like crap, and she knew it. Justice, despite its ironic name, had more crime than she could ever imagine. Having only a double homicide to attend to was a slow night -- last night, if Cecily could remember correctly, she had to deal with evidence from three separate murder cases and four robberies.

Just an average night in Justice.

"Yeah... You could say so." Cecily grinned, sitting up on the couch. "Sorry if I got in your way--I was on call until... a few hours ago, I think. Dobbs was on vacation, so it was just me. So great, right?"

Her eyes fell on the bag of food, and her stomach grumbled. Instantly, her cheeks flushed a bright red--as much as she'd talk smack about McDonalds and other fast food places, she did love their food. "I wasn't sure if you were hungry or not, but I went and got you some breakfast."

Cecily's stomach grumbled again."God, you're the best. Can I pay you back? I think I have cash...somewhere...in here," she muttered, fishing through her wallet for whatever bills she could find. Grabbing a few fives and a few ones, she offered them to her roommate, hoping she'd oblige. She hated feeling like she was mooching off of other people.

"Excited for tonight?" Riley asked, before noticing the slight dark circles under Cecily's eyes."Sorry if I woke you by the way i'll be quiet."

Cecily shook her head, her caramel curls quickly getting (somehow) stuck in her mouth. Awkwardly brushing her hair aside, Cecily forced herself off of the couch, following her roommate into the kitchen. "Nah, you're good. I was about to wake up anyways." Cecily couldn't help but smile.

"Though the block party... That'll be weird, huh? People down at the lab were talking about it--some girl killed herself at the last one... Think that'll happen tonight?" Cecily joked, ever smiling. She couldn't help but be a tad bit morbid -- it was in her job description.

Fetching herself some water, Cecily sat down at the counter, gratefully biting into the food Riley fetched for her. She could hear the music outside gradually growing louder, and she couldn't help but reflect on how amazing it was to have a rockstar for a roommate.

"Maybe you should see if they'd let you perform, hm?" Cecily pondered, throwing a glance outside the window. A small curl of smoke rose towards the sky, with the sun beating down on them. She couldn't help but ponder if this was exactly how it had looked last time -- back when the girl was found dead.

Would something happen tonight?

Stop being so goddamn paranoid, Cecily admonished herself. Not everything has to do with murder.

Mali jogged through the city, dodging around potholes, people and other obstructions without paying them too much mind. While the construction was a nuisance for most, she actually liked it for the purposes of jogging. It spiced up the routine by making her have to think and move a bit differently than just going straight. In her ears music blared from her headphones. It was kind of relaxing, just running without having to think too much about the rest of the world. Yeah, there were assholes who insulted her as she passed, but this was a morning ritual, the rudeness had stopped really bothering her after the first couple weeks and by now she was into Year 2. She would do her best to flex a bit when catcalled by workers.

One thing Mali learned really quickly after getting into bodybuilding is that people tended to feel pretty strongly about it. When she started putting in the work to bulk up it became apparent that women didn't really notice the work she put into her body, other than that she was big and muscular. It was really the men that would notice the results of her work and they would either really dislike it, or really like it. Although the feelings weren't reciprocal, Mali really did appreciate when people gave attention to her physique, why not show off a bit to her biggest admirers?

The issue was when she spotted a kid getting beat up by two thugs a smidge younger than her. She stopped for a bit and considered going to help him. She was no stranger to fist fights, and had had one against a man back in her delinquent days (although she lost, the other guy's face took weeks to heal, and even then there was scarring for months afterward). But there were two guys there and she probably wouldn't be able to take both of them at once in a straight fight, even though she was several times stronger than she was back then.

Right as she was about to start her job again, when she noticed the song had become the chorus of Save Me. Goddammit Freddie, why do you have to chime in now with that shit? Mali ripped her headphonesout of her ears and turned around to the alley, to see what the hell she could do, despite having set out with no intentions of helping people.

Jezebel Wintergerald

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If you mingled with the right circles, chances were you’d heard of Del Tawfeek; Loan Shark, bookkeeper for the Knife Posse, and proprietor of Crimson and Clover. Tawfeek had the good sense to keep his nose out of other people’s business, and over the years had managed to accumulate one of the most impressive treasure troves of contraband and stolen goods in all of Justice. He projected the false persona of a bumbling immigrant, over-looked by most, but could acquire almost anything for the right price. He had connections. Connections which made him valuable to Jezebel Wintergerald.

“Oh good, it's you.” The Middle-Eastern man greeted Jezebel with a sour look as she strode into Crimson and Clover, past a set of large glass cabinets which held white gold rings and silver watches.

“Top of the morning to you,” she replied, casting a quick glance at a mannequin which was dressed up like your typical girly barbie doll, complete with handbag that looked like it could happily house a chihuahua “How’s business?”

“You’re smart enough not to ask questions like that.” Del frowned, creasing his dark skin.

“Just making conversation, old timer.” She shot back.

“Don’t.” He snapped “Buy something or take your lard ass elsewhere.”

“Alright, you don’t gotta be such a caramel Nazi about everything,” she reached into her jacket pocket, fishing out a rubber band-bound wad of cash “We gave you guys your shitty country back, what’s your beef with me?”

“You realize I’m from Bahrain, right?”

“Then you can stop playing the victim and show me the goods, you infidel.”

“I hope you were bullied as a child.” The shopkeeper muttered, slowly rising out of his chair and making his way out from behind the counter.

“We got something which I think will take your fancy,” he explained, leading Jezebel over to a small black box, which he opened with a quick flick of some clasps “looks like the sort of thing you might wear.”

Inside the box was a thick silver bracelet, glimmering softly beneath the shop’s dull lights, which was carved to take on the image of a pair of snakes; their steely bodies woven together. The mouths of the snakes formed the bracelet’s clasps, and it looked to be crafted from proper materials.

“What’s the asking price?” The young woman raised an eyebrow, scoping the bracelet out of its box and fastening it around her thick wrist.

“Fifty dollars.” Del said firmly.

“Come on, man, this is me we’re talking about.” Jessie said with a slick smile.

“Sixty dollars.”

“You’re an arse.”

“Seventy dollars.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Keep running your mouth and I’ll keep raising the price.”

“I’m not paying fifty dollars for a bracelet.”

“Correct. You’re paying seventy.”

“I’m putting my foot down, Tawfeek.”

“Then go put it down in some other store.”

Jezebel glowered at him, crossing her arms into a tense knot.

“Stop with this holier than thou, bullshit,” she snarled “people like me keep your shop from closing, then when you get our business your treat us like shit. You’re not some connoisseur of fine wares, you’re a scumbag like the rest of us. Half the stuff you’re selling is stolen, and this bracelet probably came from the corpse of a dead hooker.”

Jezebel squared up to him, flexing her impressive bulk as she got right in his face.

“Now take my forty dollars, and quit being such a little bitch about it.”

Tawfeek snatched the money from Jezebel’s out-stretched hand, keeping his eyes locked on her the entire time.

“Anything else, miss?” He said coldly.

“Nothing right now,” she grinned “I’ve got a party to get to.”

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Danica let go of the blinds and they snapped back into place, the sound of aluminum rattling against the window echoing through her apartment as she stood there. She knew she needed to at least make an appearance at the block party but it wasn't exactly on her top ten list of things to do today. She had an article to finish for the paper and she wanted to get her daily street adventure in for the day. Least if she went ahead and got geared up she could maybe find some focus and inspiration to finish up before her deadline in the morning. Her editor had already left several voice messages, none of which she had returned. She always met the deadline even if she cut it close but as far as she was concerned as long as it was there by deadline it was on time. Turning it in early only gave him time to nitpick at it. If she had finished it yesterday she still would have held onto it. Problem was she hadn't even started fully. She had typed a lot but really said nothing.

Turning she wandered back over to her desk, her fingers moving along the touchpad of her laptop as she saved several files and then shut it down. Reaching over closed it and slid it into her desk drawn, locking it up before her fingers ran over her paperweight. Picking it up she paced her room in thought, tossing it from hand to hand lightly; it was a simple little knick-knack she had been sent as a gift of sorts. She wasn't exactly sure what to do with it when she got it and it was hefty enough to keep things still on her desk when she would write with the fan on or the window open. Right now it was serving as a bit of a stress reliever as she thought about what this weeks article could be about. Ugh, she needed to get out of the apartment. Clear her head.

The song on her old CD player switched over and she stopped as the new song queued up. That brought back memories.....



"Dani wait up!!!" a voice called out, gasping for breath. Danica stopped and and rested her hands on her hips as she turned around.

"Come on Slug! You wanted to see this shit Crystal," Danica chuckled towards her little sister and then headed back down to her. Crystal just threw her hands up and flopped down on the ground as she took her shoe off and dumped out the rocks that had worked their way into it.

"I know I know, give me a minute," Crystal grumbled as she dropped her shoe and rubbed the soles of her feet.

"I told you to borrow a pair of my hiking boots. Those tennis shoes of yours just aren't cut out for this type of terrain. Hell I doubt they are good for a decent run."

"What? And have to wear three pairs of socks so they'll stay on?"

Danica just smirked as she pushed against her sisters shoulder a bit and handed her over a bottle of water. "Well I can't help you have feet that even the Chinese wouldn't need to bind," she teased. Crystal just rolled her eyes before she started to laugh as she held up her foot and Danica held up hers.

"And I can't help your footprints get mistaken as Bigfoots."

"Alright, alright. Come on, only another half an hour if we book it." Crystal let out a huff and shook her head as she flopped back against the ground and looked up at the Oregon Sky. Danica looked over to her and grabbed her arm, pulling her along the ground a bit. "Get up you slug!"

"Can't we just sit here a little bit longer? Pweese Dani!" Crystal pleaded. Danica let go and knelt down next to her. "Thank you!" she exclaimed as Dani fiddled with her music player. "So, you ready to get finished with High School and run off with some local tribe in the mountains?"

"Yeah, not much longer. I expect you to do the same. You need to get out of town and live your own life."

"I don't know. You know I am not like you. You always were the strong one." Crystal shrugged slightly as she picked at the pebbles on the ground. Dani shot her a look and pursed her lips.

"You are a lot stronger than you think. Don't ever forget that," Danica said quickly before going back through her playlists. Crystal smiled slightly at her sisters words. She was glad she had someone that believed in her. Danica skipped through several songs before her sister finally took the player from her and found one she liked.

"Ugh, not this one again!"

"Did you ever think that we could be so close, like brothers," Crystal sang as she flung her arms out to the side and then hugged Danica, swaying back and forth to the melancholy tune before she started whistling along. Danica swore if she rolled her eyes any harder at her little sisters antics they would get stuck in the back of her head.

"Alright, enough of your caterwauling! If we don't get a move on we will be stuck up here all night. You really want to sleep in the caves?" Dani asked. Her sister quickly jumped to her feet and shoved them back into her shoes before tearing off up the side of the hill.

"Come on slow poke, we haven't got all day!" he yelled back to Dani. Danica could only laugh as she got up and dusted herself off before tearing off after Crystal. It was going to be a long day.



Snapping out of the walk down memory lane Danica shook her head and put the paperweight back down on her desk before wandering into her bed room. She really needed to clear her head. Stripping down she put on her usual gear for when she went out on this type of task; lack yoga pants, black sports bra, a good pair of athletic shoes that were flexible in the soles, climbing gloves. Strapping her waist belt on she slid her ID and some other things into it before grabbing her phone and earplugs and stepping out of the apartment. Locking the door she dropped the key into the belt as well as she jogged down the stairs from the top floor and out onto the street.

Outside it smelled wonderful as she skipped over to Lawson and poked him in the side. Lawson smiled over to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Hey Dani, like what ya smell? That's good old fashion Carolina BBQ right there," he said proudly.

"Smells great, make sure to save me a plate," she said as she untangled the wires of her ear puds.

"Going for one of your suicide missions?" he teased.

Danica simply nodded and stuck her tongue out at him as she finally got her ear bud situated and gave him a quick salute before she darted off across the street and into the alleyway to the east of the buildings. It was time to get her groove on.

---

---

Riley smiled as Cecily got up from the couch and headed over to grab her sandwich and quickly shook her head while she scrounged up to find some money to pay her back for the meal. "No, no, you don't have to at all hun." Riley said as she closed Cecily's hand back and gently pushed the hand away. "Save your money for something better like a new car instead of that rusted death trap you have." Riley said with a soft smile as she headed over towards the table with her drink and sandwich in hand. "Though you could maybe pay me back by going out to dinner sometime?" Riley said with a playfully wink to her roommate Cecily was cute after all, of course she was going to do a little bit of flirting from time to time or maybe a bit of teasing here and there.

"Though the block party... That'll be weird, huh? People down at the lab were talking about it--some girl killed herself at the last one... Think that'll happen tonight?" Riley took a bite out of her sandwich and leaned herself back in her chair, she did hear rumors over the girl who had killed herself awhile back. She felt bad hearing about the story but she wasn't in the apartments at the time of the murder she was on tour before even moving to Justice. "I don't think something like that will happen this year." Riley said as she could hear the music down on the streets getting gradually louder from DJ Ally Cranks, and seeing the smoke coming up from Lawson's smoker.

Riley smiled slightly at Cecily suggesting that she ask the DJ to perform at the block party, it was a good idea but then again that would bring more unwanted attention she was all for doing a free concert and everything. "Hmm I don't know I might, but then again we would have more people coming then if I ended up performing, and it would just be myself the other bandmates are busy the rest of the day as well."

Cecily Ashworth
Classic Building 3C
Interacting with @Nallore

---

"Save your money for something better like a new car instead of that rusted death trap you have."

Cecily snorted, raising an eyebrow at her roommate. She could just imagine the look of horror on Dean Winchester's face at hearing baby be insulted like that. She had purchased that beat up impala on purpose -- she didn't care for cars, but if she could consider her method of transportation to be a Supernatural reference, then it was worth it. Her roommate walked over to the table, and Cecily couldn't help but continuing to chuckle. Of course, she shut up rather quickly at Riley's next comment.

"Though you could maybe pay me back by going out to dinner sometime?" Riley asked, winking at her.

Cecily's face turned a dark shade of red, and trying to seem natural, she turned around to peer at one of the magnets on the fridge. She had never been the type to go on dates -- or more specifically, to date anyone. It didn't make sense to her. She didn't understand the appeal of slobbering over another person, no matter how many songs, sonnets, books, movies, and stories were written about it. The concept escaped her.

What would Iron Man do? Cecily asked herself, summoning up her courage and her nerves.

"Sure. How does tomorrow sound?" Cecily asked nonchalantly, quickly gulping down half a glass of water. She tried to smile and appear cool, perhaps even sexy, but instead, a bit of the water went down into her lungs, and she pitched forward, coughing her head off.

"I mean... if you want to," Cecily added, trying to regain her "cool"-ness.

After her roommate carefully put to bed Cecily's suggestion of her playing at the block party, Cecily glanced out the windows, feeling slightly like an impatient child. Time ticked by far too slowly, with the block party seemingly being hours away for an eternity. She was just waiting for her phone to ring--another murder, another robbery, another assault--and to whisk her away from her one night off.

Cecily shook her head slightly, biting into her breakfast. It couldn't stop her from feeling antsy.

Tank parked his Harley down the street from Juno's Greek. He let out a breath, the hot sun filling his every pore with warmth. He enjoyed days like this, and everything seemed so mellow around here. The place didn't seem to busy at the moment, which was curious. He'd been by here before, though he didn't walk in. It was packed last thursday. Word around town was a lot of fine ladies worked here, so he did his homework on the joint. He'd see if it worked out.

Hitching up his bike, pulling his foot over and putting his hands in his pockets, he starting heading down the street towards the joint, looking around with a practiced eye. His stomach twisted with hunger, and he barely gave the car that skidded to a stop before his jaywalking a second glance. Tank raised his hand in a small apology, not looking back as he entered the establishment.

There were Roman and Greek mythological paintings splayed across the walls. The place had worn out tables and chairs that dotted a white and blue tiled floor. Kinda quirky, he noted. The main thing about the establishment that he confirmed immediately was that all of the staff was hot. Ladies everywhere, but he made sure that he only noticed from a quick scan of the eyes. That didn't do to oggle. Wasn't gentlemenly. He could do more than oggle later if he played his cards right.

Still, even if he was going to play this game, he needed food first. He strolled towards the front cashier casually. The girl had long, thick brown hair in a workers ponytail. He could tell how curvaceous she was even past the apron and uniform. He only saw it at a glance though, once again. He didn't even speak to her when she approached. Tank only put his hands on the counter, looked at the menu for a moment, and then met her eyes.

"See something you like?"
"Yeah."
He just gazed at her a bit more, before he tilted his head. "Hey, do I know yo-"
"Don't play this game"
"I know you from somewhere."
"Don't do this to me."
He pointed at her. "Come on, last week at the thing an-"
"I have dropped cigarette butts more handsome than you."
He smiled wide and leaned on the counter casually. "I am falling in love already."

"Can I help you?" another voice asked. This woman older than the other by about 10 years, with a heart shaped face. Her raven hair was in a tight bun and he could tell by the way she walked, she had to be the manager. She raised an eyebrow at the cashier, as if this was her fault somehow. This was harder than he thought, but still pretty easy.

"Donna I'm so sorry, I was-" the younger girl began, but stopped with another look from the manager. She turned to Joseph. "And you are?"
He held his hand out. "A paying customer." She shook it gingerly.

"I'm sorry but you can't fraternize with-"
"She-" he said, pointing at the younger woman, "was just telling me that you sauté your Psari Plaki with 3 cups of sliced sweet onions." Tank let the words sink in. "And do you really add only 1 1/2 teaspoon of Oregano?"

The woman opened her mouth, squinting between the two of them. It was amazing what one could learn from google. Joseph didn't give her a chance to speak. "Initially I wasn't going to get anything here. I'm new to town and was seeing what was available, but this girl here convinced me. I'll get the Plaki to go, and a Dr. Pepper too please."

"Very good." the manager said. "Ring it up, Sarah."
"Yes ma'am."
The manager whisked herself at that point to do other things that Tank didn't give a shit about.
"What are you doing?" the hot woman asked him.
"Fuckin' shit up." he whispered, not taking his eyes off her as he reached down and grabbed a toothpick from the little cup that contained them beside the cash register. "You're welcome, by the way."

"How?"
"I impressed your manager for you." he explained, then shrugged. "Not a huge deal."

She shook her head, but smiled despite herself. "And you think you've won my heart now?"

Another lovely woman placed the to go plate and Dr. Pepper between them, gave Sarah a look, and walked away. Tank was glad today wasn't a busy day at this place. He picked up the food and drink, and looked her straight in the eyes one last time. "Be seein' you around."

He walked out, not even looking back. Down the street, he opened up the go to plate and began to chow down. Not bad, he noted. He headed back to the apartment for the block party as soon as he finished his drink.