Logs:Something Great and Terrible Comes

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Something Great and Terrible Comes

""I think you and I could really do some great and terrible things Spook..." - Sin

Dramatis Personae

Absinthe, Isrieal

4 August, 2017

Isrieal meets with Sin to discuss terms of raising her crime status, little does she expect to discover an ally as crazy as herself in the process to get up to no good with.


The Gallows

The Gallows is one of Isrieal's favorite bars when she actually wants to chill and drink, and not hunt victims for the night. That and its owned by friends of hers. She's seated at one of the tables off to the side and she's dressed in a black and red cinched dress thats a little villanesque. Black gloves trail her arms to her elbows and her snowy white hair is down in soft curls, framing her face and those vicious blue eyes.

She's just a bit intimidating to say the least, its just an air that rolls off of her form. A copper mug sits before her and she's currently tracing a finger slowly around the rim. It wasn't hard to track down that interesting girls number through Hawker and she's sent a mysterious little text for a meet up at the Gallows.

Absinthe's reaction to the oddly worded text has been one of instant interest. Mysteries were /fun/. And fun was what it was all about. And so it was in high spirits that the little lunatic burst into the pub.

Eyes covered with amber contacts scan the room, searching for a face she knows. Wearing a deep purple leather catsuit and heavy looking new rock boots she tended to stand out in most crowds. The dim lighting at least helped make shapes a little less distinct to the common eye.

With her long hair in a single neon braid down her back. The Shadow had opted for orange lipstick, complemented with coppery eyeshadow. A riot both in form and colour, it's a matter of moments before she spots, recognises and approaches Israel. "Evening Kitten! Was it you who sent me winged letters?"

There is no mistaking when Sin enters the room, thats her alright in her crazy colors of course. She sits up striagher and grins across the room at her. "Indeed. It was I." She confirms. "Would you care for a drink?" She offers. Yet she suspects the anwser may be a no. Though the offer is out of politeness. "Please, join me." She gestures across the table and laces her fingers atop of it before herself.

"Rumor is that you are looking for more recognition in the world of crime. "I like what I've seen from you so far...but I'd like to hear from you personally what it is that you can do."

An audition is it? Well then children, best foot forward hmm? Sin's inner monologue is near never-ending. But as the kook takes the offered chair with a grin, what she says is; "Nice of you to invite me over duckling, it's always fun to make new friends."

Once seated, Sin extends her legs before her, crossing them at the ankles to rest there on the floor. A predator at rest. "What part of my modus operati is it that interests you kitten? The guns, the drugs, the back alley surgery for critical goons that won't make it through the hospital checks?" That last one was a new one... Like, five second ago new. But she had a medical licence so hey! Who was she to argue with herself?

That last one just happens to be the one that intrigues Isrieal perhaps the most. "You do surgury?" She asks with a lift of a brow. "Well you might want to look into my clinic if you need space to do stuff like that." She points out. "Radion Heart Clinic, in Division." She tells her. "We offer to treat the homeless for free, the ones who wouldn't pass background checks...we keep them secret, treat them. For fair trade offs of course." There's far more to her business than meets the eye but she leaves it at that for now. "So you're good at getting drugs as well then, hm?" The Russian asks her with a lift of a brow.

"I /make/ them." Sin giggles softly, with perhaps more than a smidge of hysteria. "I'm not just a pretty face kitten. I'm a fully qualified Doctor, specialised sugeon. And a chemist, mostly pharmacology, transferable skills as you might call it." That amber gaze rests on the other woman's, or rather, half a foot to the left of it. The kook's crazy, but she's not stupid.

Isrieal nods along to her. "Would you mind telling me what sorts of drugs you make?" She asks curiously. "And if you happen to be interested in money? I could very well offer you a job...give you use of only some of best high tech labs of this century." She offers while her own lips curve into a twisted smirk. "I cannot imagine a better workspace for your creations...nor safer. Plenty of guards, secret location, bleeding edge security." She snaps her fingers.

"And all locked in with a pretty bow..." Sin shakes her head, braid swinging like a cat's tail. "I make what people ask for, and trade for cash. Which I use to buy the guns from the guys." It's said with such a bored tone that they could be talking about the weather.

"Not that I won't work /with/ you, but I'm not going to work /for/ you. See?" Her high alto voice is almost innocent with it's southern English accent, eyelashes bat. "Money's only as good as what I can do with it, and if I'm stuck somewhere, that's pretty limited." Pretty insightful for a lunatic.

Isrieal lifts a brow. "Well seeing as I own the place you'll hardly be stuck. If you'd like to work 'with' me we can more than likely work something out. I'll offer you use of the labs, the equpitment, a place you are even less likely to get caught doing any of this. You in turn give me samples of the drugs that you create, if I 'really' like one then I'll even offer up for more myself. My favorite so far that I had made was a fear toxin." She says with a chuckle. "I think I like what I hear. I'll put in the good word for you and truthfully? I am looking to increase my status as well. Perhaps when I petition, you might do the same?"

"Ah the ol' you scratch mine I scratch yours?" Auditions always ended with a role... Or a song? Her mind cannot seem to make up it's mind which. "That sounds agreeable to me kitten. I guess that means you'll be wanting one of these then."

From the small space betwixt her clevage the loopy Mekhet produces a slender metal cylinder, which she rolls across the table to the other woman. "That's nicto-glycerin in a liquid nitrogen suspension. The metal's tooled to break open in the middle if you throw it at something hard enough." It didn't always require much force to be perfectly honest. A good knock could be enough to set off the unstable explosive. "Best to keep a card up your sleeves hmm?" She winks, tilting her head to one side.

Isrieal lifts a brow and takes the small vial from her, looking it over before looking back to her. "So this?" She glances around and lowers her voice some. "I just throw it and boom??" She eyes it one last time then slips it off between her own cleveage. "I do like that, it could be useful next time I end up having to destroy things owned by rivals." She says with a grin. "I'll pay for more as well next time you make more up. I should show you the facility as well when you have the time. How easy would it be for you to get to an island?" She wonders.

"Got a dingy I think. Or can appropriate one." Steal. She means she can steal one. It's amazing the language of the underworld... Or maybe it's just her skewed interpretation of it. "And yes, you throw, you get out the way. Or you throw /really/ far." Vague mental arithmatic follows, her eyes seaching the ceiling as lips move soundlessly.

It'd take out this room easily, probably about ten square feet will be completely vaporised. Organic matter anyway." She also looks about, but it's an exagerated version of Israels. See? Nothing up my sleeve. "I tend to throw and then /blink/, if you get my meaning. But I understand not all of us can do that." She shrugs. It wasn't going to be her problem at any rate.

Isrieal blinks when she mentions the bit about 'blinking'. Isrieal certainly cannot do that. "I'll wait for the opportune moment to use it." She assures her with a grin. "I know Hawker introduced us the other day, he probably just called me Izzy. Isrieal's the real name. Isrieal Sinclaire or Spooks as the criminals tend to call me." She says with a smirk. "And you, Sin is the preferred yes?"

"Absinthe or Sin are both fine duckling. Which are you in the preference of? The Izzy or the Isrieal?" It seemed only polite to ask after all. Though now she'd asked the question, she was trying to remember the last time she'd used someone's name... From the outside it seems as if she just /stops/ for several long moments. Staring blankly forwards.

And then she's back and the Cheshire grin blossoms on her face again. "Hawker's a good guy, least ways, he knows how to play the lines of the law, and that's not exactly different." Or was it? She never could seem to remember...

"Izzy is fine, so is Spooks. It's all up to you." She says with a wave of her hand. She takes that pause of hers to take a sip of her Moscow Mule before setting the cup back down. "I've seen Hawker do some crazy shit. If he really knows what he's doing? Then that's great on his behalf. He needs to let go of the dream of me ever sleeping with him though." The Darkling says with a roll of her eyes. "How do you know each other?"

"He runs a bar full of guns. The boys liked it, so I went to see what the fuss was about." Sin explains lightly, amber coated eyes slipping over Izzy's dress as she continues to speak;

"Or was he one of my true dreams...?" It seems a genuine question, a small frown on the Mekhet's face. "I think he might have been... No idea what though. Well anyway, I found him, paid him much moolah to get me a nice little Browning pistol..." She smiles brightly, a child with a new toy. "Friends ever since! I think he'd be a bit shocked if he got to bed even half the girls that go through that place... Didn't you say you were married though? Ain't it not legally binding if you haven't bumped uglies?"

Isrieal sits back just slightly. 'DID' she say she was married? Well shit. That clarity of hers always messing with her head. She just laughs a tad nervously. "Oh? I mentioned that did I?" She shakes her head and takes another drink. "My husband hasn't been around." She comments. "So I'm pretty much free to do whatever really. Though bottom line. I don't want Hawker. He thinks that I should."

"Oh kitten, that's the same for pretty much any guy with half a spine." She gestures to the sweeping curves that are the other woman's figure. "You're here to worship them remember? Or did you, like every woman miss the memo?" Sin's matter of fact wording could trick someone to think she was being serious. Almost.

The following grin is wicked. "And don't worry about the husband thingy. I'll likely forget before long... Or won't tell. One or both." Lucidity seems to be slipping for the moment it seems.

Isrieal nods. It's best she forget she ever mentioned one, less questions asked in the future. "Oh, but of course." She anwsers just as sarcastically about the worship bit. The fae watches her curiously as she seems to zone in and out. "When you have the time I'll show the labs, have to alert security to expect you and all. Don't want any happy accidents. We'll have to do something sometime too. I like to destroy shit, and scare people. If you need a companian for any missions involving those two things then I'm in." She grins.

"That's /most/ of my missions." The lunatic vampire seems to be warming to the fae now. So much in common! "I'll be sure to keep you in mind when I want some pretty looking muscle." A pause. "Figuratively speaking muscle anyway."

Her ankles uncross as she begins to lean forward. "You keep me in mind too kitten, I'm always up for a bit of chaos causing. So long as the sun's down and the blood's fresh." Because Sin was as honest as the day is long. The longer the day, the longer she had to be honest.

Isrieal chuckles. "Oh I can be muscle too if thats what ya need." She tells her. "Though I fight with a scythe so its best I only use it when something 'truly' deserves it. If fear doesn't work, that is." How the hell she keeps a scythe concealed is another mystery. "Don't worry, the sun will be down, I don't like it much either. Hurts my eyes and I don't perform as well in it." She confides as well. "The only blood that shouldn't be fresh is my own." She does warn. "I only tell you because I like you. The others I let find that out for themselves."

"No bitey, got it." Sin grins; "To be honest, it's not such a driving factor for me as it is for most of my kind." It seems she has no compunction talking about it in a roundabout way. But they /had/ both checked they were alone.

The small bundle of colour taps a forefinger to her temple. "Fine line between genius and madness, but both have their advantages as well as their drawbacks." As if that explained everything.

"Oh, a fine line indeed." Isrieal agrees. She seems to have a thing for fear, this one. For even on her upper arm is the tattoo of a silhouette of a scarecrow. She finishes off her drink then and sets the empty cup aside. "We'll think of something fun to get up too soon. Feel free to text me anytime. I never say no to adventure."

From leaning forward, to standing with the same easy grace of an acrobat as she always moves with. "I think you and I could really do some great and terrible things Spook..." That amber gaze flashes in the lamp light.

"And that's just what this city needs... Some great and terrible things to knock it out of this stagnancy." Or maybe that's just an excuse... The kook starts her walk towards the door, hand waving over her shoulder. "My people will call your people... We'll do lunch." And the way she says /lunch/ makes it sound like it has little to do with actual food.