Dec 20 04:18:08 106 PA - Girl Talk of a different type
From Chronicles
The current game time is: Tue Dec 20 04:18:08 106 PA.
A large airy room, painted white with bare, polished floorboards. In one corner a cheap wardrobe has been painted white with some flowers hand painted on, bright yellow against the paleness of the room. A chest of drawers next to it has been given the same treatment. Near the two, a large metal bed is a pile of colourful cushions on it, none the same colour or pattern. The throw over it matches the covers to the pillows. An elderly couch has been pushed to one side of the room, and has an elderly but cared for throw tossed over it. The throw appears hand made, patches sewn together to form a brightly coloured mosaic. To one side, there is a kitchenette. Clean and functional, with two small cupboards on the wall. A little table stands nearby in this corner, simple polished wood with two chairs. The wooden floor has a few small brightly coloured rugs on it. Off to one side of the main room, a bathroom holds basic things like a sink, toilet and a shower. The shower curtain has sunflowers all over it.
The quiet and seldom used apartment is a good enough place for a little downtime. No one comes by. Perhaps Vixen has been there a few times before, though she cleans up after herself. Today it's a simple set up for her. The couch is where she settles, currently laying back on it with one leg hooked over the arm and the other settled off to the side, foot on the floor. Her PDD player sits on the cushion over her head, a cord running to her headjack. The music plays directly into her augmented ear, no sound escaping. One hand lays over her middle, the other laid against the back of the couch, one of her hand rolled cigs smoldering as it is held lightly between her fingers. She's been there a while and her eyes stare off into the distance, past the wall to the side.
The door unlocks and opens slowly, before Aimee moves through and closes it, locking it behind her. She tests the locks before she turns towards the room. "Ma petite. You surprise me." She lifts an eyebrow as she moves across the room, towards her desk. "I have work to do. If you are wishing peace, I plan no talking but ..." She shrugs lightly, pulling out the chair and settling down, forging to do, documents to create.
Vixen blinks out of her daze when Aimee comes into the apartment, her relaxed posture going tense for a moment. Unexpected. But that softens after she sees who it is. She reaches over with her free hand to fumble with the plug behind her ear, only slipping it out as Aimee notes work to do. She flops down again, lifting the cig to her lips for a light draw before breathing it out in a sigh. Her initial words go unanswered. Instead Vixen wonders aloud, "You do this here so he don't know? Or just cause?"
"Because it is private, locked and mon chat, he knows about this. Just habit, perhaps." Aimee shrugs again, turning to face Vixen. "I met monsieur Sebastien yesterday, in the Dregs." The comment is heavy with meaning and Aimee's face is hard. "I think perhaps he likes me a little less than before, now he realises I am not so sweet. The gangs, they killed a man and me, I think he deserved it."
Vixen snorts faintly at the mention of Sebastien and shakes her head. "Who cares what he thinks? And the gangs kill a lot of people. Some deserve it, some don't, can't tell just looking at 'em. Guy that's yelling his head off, getting beat down could have been beating someone else down a few days before." Her shoulders roll casually. "So who knows?"
Vixens comments bring a smile to Aimee's lips and she shakes her head. "Sometimes, I know." She shrugs lightly, pulling things from the desk to work on. "I think perhaps he thought me someone other than I am." A hesitation and a small frown before she speaks again, "Or perhaps he thinks I am who I was, before I became so..." She waves a hand in the air, indicating the lack of the word.
"Chick, you're not telling me anything," Vixen replies, twisting her head a bit to look at Aimee from an awkward angle without moving the rest of herself. "What? He think you were just another pretty little powder puff with some bite? Or something else? I know you're tough. Gotta be to live around here. Maybe he should get a place at Cheapo and try living here for a few years, see what balls he's got then."
"Oui, I guess. I don't know. It perhaps, it bothers me a little." Aimee shrugs lightly, pushing the word aside to come and slump on the couch with Vixen. "I think he thought I am a good singer, not a pushover but oui, not tough." She shrugs, curling her legs beneath her. "Me, I am not sure I realised how tough I have become, Vixen."
"And how tough is that?" Vixen rolls her shoulders slightly. "I guess him finding out will test how much a friend he is. Real friends stick with you, even if you change. And if they think you change bad, they try and change you back. I ain't got many real friends. You. Cali. Leo.. pretty much that's it. I know a bunch of other people, but they ain't my friends cause they don't act like real friends."
Aimee hesitates, her face thoughtful as she gives Vixen a steady look, considering. "Tough enough to remove people who are in the way, or bad for business." She comments bluntly, risking it, "Sometimes it is necessary, when something in the way, to remove it. It is pure business." She reaches for one of the cushions, taking it to hug it to her.
Vixen tilts her head a little, looking back at Aimee for a few moments. She then shrugs and relaxes her neck, her gaze shifting towards the ceiling as a result. "I dunno. Guess it depends. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I ain't much for asking questions. As long as you ain't making reasons to off people. Ain't like I never killed no one."
Aimee's shoulders relax a little, her mouth curving into a smile. "Oui, it depends. He is perhaps someone who sees the world from a more friendly place, mon ami." She shrugs, leaning back into the couch. "That man, he caused more problems with the gangs, and oui, he had to go, and me, I knew because I was talking to ..." She pauses, and smiles. "Someone. When they were dealing with the problem."
"If someone's causing problems with the gangs, they gotta be stopped. Last thing you need is someone poking that hornet nest," Vixen agrees simply. "You got stuff to protect. Ain't always pretty or clean protecting things here." She snots faintly and adds, "If he thought the world was more friendly, he'd have apologized for the shit be put me though before. Or when.. she died, he would have tried giving me some comfort rather than snuffing around trying to get me to help him with shit. He ain't no friend.. just another who wants what he wants and how he wants it."
Aimee shrugs again, leaving that topic safely behind. "I don't know. Perhaps I appear differently at work, when I am ..." She grins then, striking a pose, "Madam Aimee, of the Alibi..." The words are mocking herself, mocking the appearance she has there. "The gangs, we work hard to keep what little peace there is. It is always the people here, they are hurt." She shrugs again.
Vixen smirks faintly as she waves her cig holding had casually. "Babe, you're all on at the Alibi. I couldn't do the sort of stuff you do.. but you gotta cause it makes the people feel nice. You ain't hard on the eyes either." She smirks and starts to lift her cig for a draw, then pauses. "So what are you going to do about him? Seb I mean." Her toke taken then.
"Nothing." The single word is flatly spoken, Aimee's eyes hardening. "Me, I think he will not act on his knowledge, and I think, if he does not like me as much, well, it is a little loss. I do not think he will cause problems." There is regret in those words, an edge of hardness that suggests that causing problems may be bad for Sebastien's health.
Vixen rolls to the side, from couch to floor, feet settling, posture crouched. Pushing herself up then to walk over to where Aimee has her work spread. Moving to her side, hand lowered to offer the cig. "I guess we'll just have to hope he has some smarts. Or maybe a little loyalty in him. Assuming he had any to start with for you, outside of 'look, pretty girl'."
Aimee reaches out to take the cigarette, giving Vixen a smile, her eyes warming. "Oui. I doubt loyalty is an issue. I think he owes me nothing of that type." Aimee turns to face Vixen, her hand covering the documents in a gesture made without thinking. "Smarts, those would be good. I think perhaps he has those." Aimee looks thoughtful, her eyes darkening. "I think, me, there should be another party, perhaps for this Knights Hospital again."
Vixen shrugs at the last, then murmurs, "Dunno if he has real smarts. I just know I don't got much care for him, but its always been mutual so there ain't no trouble there." She leans against the back of Aimee's chair and pays little attention to the documents. "I'll let you know if I hear any trouble coming from him. You can still count on your real friends." She grins at Aimee.
Aimee grins back, a real one that warms the green eyes, making her look more the young woman Vixen had met, and less the poised club owner. "Oui, you are one of the few, ma petite. I just think, perhaps, life is very different to when we met." She twists in the chair to look up at Vixen. "Things, they have changed. Do you remember?"
"Things change," Vixen replies with a simple acceptance. She reaching out to reclaim her cig lightly with a forward lean. "Remember what? Plenty I don't wanna think about, girl. Plenty enough I should be thinking about right now. Like what I wanna do." Her shoulders roll and she lifts the cig to take a light draw.
"Those times, they weren't so bad. Less complicated." Aimee comments softly, handing over the cigarette as she blows a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. "What do you want to do? Me, I have plans, and I could use you. If you want to have a hand in them." She makes the offer casually, turning back to the papers, finishing a piece that looks like legal documents.
Vixen shrugs her shoulders. "I dunno. I'm open to suggestions. Ain't like I need the cred fast or anything. Got a lot saved up. Could always use more, but I've just been.. thinking a lot. Trying to figure out what I want to do. Got a little freelance work, but nothing too serious." As before, she doesn't pay much attention to the docs, asking Aimee, "So what you got going?"
"I thought perhaps recording equipment might be interesting." Aimee speaks casually but there is a light in her eyes, a curve to her lips. "A little bird suggested recording an album of sorts perhaps... and I thought oui, it might be amusing." She glances up, the look seeking reassurance, seeking confirmation, her cheeks flushing. "There is a little work with the gangs also..."
Vixen arches a brow as she lets her arm dip and dangle casually. "Recording an album?" Vixen smirks al ittle at that and shakes her head. "If you want someone to run your gear, I could do that. Wouldn't be hard.. setting up a studio would be a bit harder if you don't got one. Acoustics and shit." She then purses her lips faintly and adds, "Duno about the gangs.. depends what kinda work with 'em you mean. Don't like getting too deep into that stuff." The cig brought up again then.
"What type of room would we need? Perhaps part of the club could be used, we could rent it later..." Aimee's accent lightens as the topic becomes less emotive. "Me, I thought it might be amusing to do an album, perhaps give the money to charity." Her voice takes on an ironic note, "The good citizen that I am.." She leans forward, reaching out to take the cigarette from Vixen. "I thought perhaps if there was more common ground, perhaps the gangs could be controlled by money."
"Acoustics aren't may thing, really.. at least, I dunno just how to do it," Vixen replies. "But I think I know someone to ask. Basically.. you just need a place that's quiet and holds in sound. I'll see if we can get something." The rest of it she seems neutral on, thus little is said and she moves on. "The Family already is controlled by money. Crash.. probably not." She shakes her head a little.
Aimee nods slowly, considering the options thoughtfully. "Oui, you let me know. I can find the funds I think." Aimee considers the options, her mind on the gangs. "Perhaps not but perhaps there is a way into them, a route to take. Perhaps working with the family first, that is the way." She shrugs lightly, gathering up the papers. "Those, they are ready." She puts them into an envelope, closing it tightly and then sliding it into her coat pocket. "What do you want to do?"
"As long as you make them money and keep your nose out of their business, The Family is happy I've heard," Vixen murmurs. " She glances towards the finished docs, but again doesn't linger. "I dunno what I want to do. Something.. worthwhile. Maybe something that challenges me, I guess."
"Oui..." Aimee's thoughtfulness brings a frown to her face, as she leans against the back of the chair, giving Vixen a thoughtful look. "Something worthwhile to who? To the city, to you, to the people here? Do you have a spark of a do-gooder in you, ma petite?" The question is a serious one and Aimee's green eyes watch Vixen closely.
Vixen snorts faintly. "To me," she replies. "If I don't like doing it, what's the point?" She shakes her head a little and turns. "I gotta go. Gotta pick up some stuff. I'll catch you later.. probably drop by the club once I got an answer for you."
"Later, ma petite." Aimee gives Vixen a grin, turning back to the desk, her habit to tidy up after her kicking in. All evidence of the forgery vanishing, leaving the desk looking innocently bare.
