Forged In Hellfire: Part One

Cast: Bill Lovely, Jean, Francesca, Aventinus, Vanessa
Premise: A gathering of individuals happen upon an attempted murder.

rating: +1+x

The night has fallen swiftly on the city tonight, and the streets of this corner of town are mostly empty. The streets are narrow, and the buildings lining it show darkened windows. The sky above is thickly overcast, and the pregnant clouds threaten rain. The streets seem almost abandoned, except for the very few who find themselves out and about at this late hour.
At the end of the street, un a cul-de-sac, rests one of the town's small jails. Far from a foreboding prison, the building is barely two stories, with brightly lit windows lined with bars. A paddy wagon sits beside the curb outside, off and quiet.

A bright red eye lights in the night, carrying with it a pungent smoke. Bill Lovely considers the heavy clouds above for a moment, then gives the street one last casual scrutiny before ambling along. A slight shine as a knife shifts in his hand, a strangely small and curiously worked black knife, the silver metal covered in tarnish. The perfect tool for gathering moss under a muffled night's sky, moss growing in the shade of murderers and thieves.

Perhaps less dark in this dark night was the woman walking down a nearby street, a 'borrowed' overcoat worn over what are becoming slightly dirty, rugged traveling clothes. She draws it up close to her, being sure to keep moving, to keep warm, to… well… no where, really. Jenny really hadn't had a chance to walk around, alone, at night, for… as long as she can remember. Why shouldn't she drink it up while she could?

A engine roars and a motorcycle hurtles down the street at a reckless speed. it's really a poor way to learn a strange city, and with the twists and turns it's even a worse choice. The weather doesn't make it any smarter. Still, the woman on the back of the motorcycle is laughing, a wine bottle in one hand as she rips along. Then up ahead in the circle of the headlamp is the figure of woman in the street. Without time to do much else, Francesca puts the bike into a skid, letting it slide sideways along the street until she steps off and lays it down. Luckily she manages to do it without hitting anyone or injuring herself.

Leo is escorted out by some of the jail guards, looking worse for wear as they uncuff him and hand him some of his personal effects. He slides into his leather jacket as he takes out a cigarette and searches for his matches. One of the guards flicks open a lighter for Leo to light up his cigarette as the guard asks, "Don't you get bored of getting drunk and getting into brawls?" Leo just sort of offers a grunt in response as he leans against the wall and takes a deep drag of his cigarette.

Vanessa is new to town. So, of course the first thing she did upon arriving was locate the local jail. The woman is dressed in an aviator's jacket with her hair tied back and appears to have come from the general direction of where she parked her plane for the evening. She arrives on the scene just about the same time as Francesca's bike slides in, causing the woman to raise her eyebrow slightly at that entrance. "Nice parkin' job," the woman comments casually to the lady.

The skidding of motorcycle tires echoes throughout the night, as there is little sound in this area of town to compete with the noise. A light in apartment windows flick on here or there, but a moment later flicker out, as if people have better things to worry about then meddling.
As Leo has his cigarette lit by one of the guards, another paddy wagon turns the corner and pulls to a stop in front of the jail. The police officer slides from the driver's seat and walks around to the rear of the wagon, unlocking the door with a large keyring. He lets the door swing wide and he reaches inside. "Alright, Mr. St. John?right this way," the policeman mutters. "You're disgusting, you know that? Conning old Widow Winship out of her money. I hope you like the feel of your cell."
The man stepping out of the paddy wagon is a handsome man in his mid twenties, with an athletic build, and nice jet-setting clothing. He has an odd smile on his face for a man that just got arrested. "Oh, I'm sure I will, Officer."
To two specific individuals, something is visible out of the corner of their eye. Standing at the mouth of an alleyway is a young Chinese woman, dressed in a pair of black pants, shirt and a heavy, long jacket. She's roughly 5'2", and very slim. Her dark hair is pulled back in a no-nonesense ponytail. She seems to blend in with the shadows around her as she watches the jail.

Bill's normal aplomb is somewhat shaken by the screech of tires, but he quickly recovers from his startlement. Another red glow as he puffs, nothing to see here, just some vagrant on the street. The knife is gone, secured once more into some small pocket. While his eyes are set on the Leo and Mr. St. John, doing a jailhouse dosey-do, his attention is on the Chinese woman. Anyone that hard to see must be worth seein'.

Jean continues walking, the light from the motorcycle catching a little of her attention… but she keeps walking. That is, until the sound of a running engine is far too close to be anything good. She turns back around, gasping at the motorcycle that seems to head /right. for her, running to the side of the street as it skids to a stop. "What.. what in the /hell/ were you thinking!" She yells, an angry English accent sounding across the street. She'll approch the girl, once she's off the bike, pointing an accusing finger. "Explain yourself, you…" She notices the bottle of wine. "And /drinking/, as well!"

Francesca skids on the street as she lets the bike pull her the last few feet before it stops. She sets it down, putting a hand on the whip at her waist for a brief moment, then she laughs and pulls her hand away and waves, "Did I run you over? No. Well done wasn't it?" Her accent is thick italian, barely able to be understood. She takes a deep drink from her bottle then thrusts it out as an offering to Jean, "Have a drink as my way of apologizing." But her eyes drift from the angry young woman, watching what's going on down the street beyond her.

Leo looks at St. John and after the police describe what he did, Leo spits on the ground at St. John before taking another drag of his cigarette. His attention is diverted to Francesca, the thick Italian accent audible from a mile away as he turns his head to get a better look at Jean and Francesca 'discuss' the latter's motorcycle skills.

Vanessa steps away from the altercation as Francesca and Jean begin having their little discusion, as it were. Instead she notices that someone seems to be quite a bit interested in both keeping their presence a secret and keeping an eye on things. The aviator casually strolls over to find a bit of wall that is good for leaning on, where she can potentially see both the hidden individual and the potential amusement factor with the fight by the motorcycle.

The Chinese girl glances about herself as the street begins to crowd a bit, and she frowns deeply. She then turns to regard the front of the jail, seeming quite interested in whatever is happening out front.
As Leo spits at St. Claire's feet the man's smile vanishes. The new prisoner snarls and lunges at Leo, but the police officer quickly yanks him back. In fact, he yanks the man back so hard that St. Claire stumbles back into the police officer. "Damn! Careful, Officer!," the con-man cries out. Three individuals, however, notice that his hand slips down during the scuffle, and the officer's key ring vanishes into his jacket pocket.

Bill strolls toward the jail door, nodding politely to Leo, and smiling to the police. "Evenin', officers. Bit late for taking in the trash."

Jean doesn't notice a woman or some sort of key snatching. All she notices is a drunk woman saying she has some sort of skills for not killing her. She takes the proffered bottle of wine, and throws it to the side, shattering the bottle. "No. Not well done. Not at all. You should find another way to apologize to me." She says, hands on her hips, almost scowling… And looking a bit behind her to the succffle. "Well, illicit activity abounds."

Francesca looks aghast at the throwing of her bottle away. "That was a good Mascarello. A Mascarello!" She looks quite upset but then turns back to the woman and says, "I am sorry I didn't run you over. Is that better? I didn't even touch you. Would it be better if…ah, prison break tonight."

Leo is oblivious of the man taking the keys but he nonetheless gives a nod to Bill as he moves up to St. John. He glares at the prisoner as he asks, "What? Gotta problem with me?" He blows off smoke just far enough for St. John to catch the last bit of it.

Vanessa suspects that person lurking in the shadows might come to try and help in the prison break if Francesca's words reach to the ears of the con-man. So, she strolls alongside her wall, so that should the Chinese woman come on out of the shadows, Vanessa will have a very nice vantage point from which to attempt to restrain the woman. To put it politely. It also may cut off a potential escape route for said con-man if she can easily get in his way.

«At this point the scene paused until further notice»

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