Rag-A-Muffin
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I'm a hero to some, but a villain to many.
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Post by Zachary Barrow on Aug 2, 2017 23:43:50 GMT -6
Zachary pushed open the doors to the crowded Crown Jewel. He gave out a hearty sigh and went over to his normal spot at the bar. Penny and Polly were probably asleep at this time, so he wouldn't have to face the questions when he got home. It was the same every other day where he returned from his job. His young daughter would run down the hallway, drop her favorite teddy bear at his boots, and finally hug his leg as hard as she could, telling him how much he missed her. She'd ask a lot of questions about work, but he dismissed them to talk more about his daughter. At home, Zach wore a tamer version of the poker face he had when he was under the Crooked Man, wondering when the day would come when he could tell his daughter the truth of what he did while she was at school.
"Hey, barkeep..." the shaggy blonde sat down and pulled a twenty from his wallet, "some fine brandy please, and keep it coming." The bartender quickly nodded and slid a shot glass down to where he was sitting. Barrow took a big swig and looked around. "Some company would be nice..." He retorted to no one in particular, hoping that they'd take the hint.
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Rag-A-Muffin
23
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Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
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Post by Harley Quinn on Aug 3, 2017 3:54:12 GMT -6
As Harley maneuvered through the throng of people, a barrage of scents wafted to her — rich cigar smoke, good liquor, and expensive perfume. Stepping inside the place was like entering another dimension, one of muted lighting and classy jazz, of draperies and wingback chairs.
“Excuse me! Whoa!” a voice said. Harley turned to see a tall maître d zeroing in on her like a smart bomb. “This is the Crown Jewel, right?” She said. The maître d lips curved in an icy smile. “Very good. What company do you work for? I’ll be sure to use it next time I need a very clever delivery girl.” Harley ignored the sneer as if she didn’t notice it. “Package for a Mr. Philip Rastelli” she said, opening the flap of her courier bag. “I’m Philip Rastelli. You sure? I’m not expecting anything.” “Maybe somebody wants to surprise you.” Harley winked as she lifted a large envelope from the pouch. “Maybe you impressed one of your lady customers more than you know.” Rastelli obviously found that an interesting thought. “All right, thanks. Here you go,” he said, thumbing a couple of dollar bills out of his wallet. “Oh, no, I can’t take tips,” Harley said. “But I’m supposed to wait for a response.” She winked again as she handed Rastelli the envelope. “You might not want to open this in front of all those people, if you know what I mean.”
The mâitre d’ glanced at the small crowd of patrons, but his curiosity won out. Impatiently, he stepped into a small storage room at the back the bar. Harley followed him, waiting at the doorway. She watched as Rastelli tore open the envelope and stared at the letter it held. The maître d’s haughty face looked puzzled.
“‘Your blood is my paint’?” he said. “ ‘Your flesh is my clay’? What the hell is this?” He looked up at Harley, getting angry now. “Who sent this?” Harley stepped into the room with him. “Don Korso” she said, pulling a silenced .22-caliber SIG Mosquito pistol from her bag and placing the barrel against the mans empty heart, “Marcello.” She waited the split second it took for comprehension to dawn in the man’s eyes. Then, before Rastelli could so much as blink, Harley pulled the trigger twice. Even in the small room, the sound was inconsequential, like someone clearing his throat. As the maitre d’ collapsed in a heap of dead flesh, Harley eased him into a chair. Anyone who glanced in would think that Rastelli had sat down for a moment to rest. She quickly stepped out of the delivery uniform and stuffed it behind a crate of booze.
Shielding the gun from sight, Harley turned to the open doorway and scanned the scene outside. People continued to laugh and drink, talk and eat, like the pointless animatronic idiots they were. Nobody had noticed a thing. She slipped the warm gun into her bag, and in a few steps was at the bar.
Harley slid onto a stool between two big men. She did not know for what reason the maitre d' was targeted by Korso's men, nor did she care. What she did care about though was payment for her services and proving to the belly of the underworld that she was 1) young but capable and 2) not to be underestimated. Being in high spirits, Harley decided that she very much deserved a drink to celebrate her first big hit. But there was still nobody paying any attention to her. But that was all about to change.
"Ahem," she said, and lightly tapped the shoulder of the man sitting beside her. "I'll be your company but you have to buy me a drink."
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Rag-A-Muffin
6
posts
1
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I'm a hero to some, but a villain to many.
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Post by Zachary Barrow on Aug 4, 2017 11:28:36 GMT -6
"Ahem," The man put down his newest shot glass and widened his eyes. He could have sworn he felt something on his shoulder.. Perhaps he was feeling things. This was normal when he had a few swigs of some strong brandy. He wasn't completely buzzed yet and didn't want to go home drunk. He had a family to return to. If Polly saw him completely intoxicated, she would have definitely filed a divorce. The voice that got his attention was seemingly feminine and young. Or it could have been on of the pretty boys that he had pulverized into a broken mess only a couple of hours ago. To make sure that his hypothesis was correct, Zachary turned around.
Out of all of the people that could have came up to him, it had to be a woman. It seemed as if others in the bar were ogling he, wishing as if she was the one to accompany them and perhaps sit on their lap. She was like a doll: bright blue eyes, blonde hair, and a skinny frame. She was the type of girl that tempted him to take off his ring in order to have a night of steamy fun. "I'll be your company but you have to buy me a drink." "Why of course, miss... What would you like?"
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Rag-A-Muffin
23
posts
5
likes
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
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Post by Harley Quinn on Aug 4, 2017 12:27:50 GMT -6
Harley turned now, looked levelly at him. The man was three or four years older than she, she supposed, and perhaps that many inches taller. “I’ll have a medium dry Vodka Martini with a piece of lemon peel,” she told him.
Men, they noticed her now. She could tell, she could always tell. Their gazes fell on her and warmed the skin where they touched her. Odd, she thought. Was it something she did? Did she invite their hungry stares? She certainly didn’t do anything with the intention of provoking male lust, especially not tonight, not after a hit. Her dress was conservative enough, her makeup subtle and unremarkable. Did she wet her lips and pout like a sullen sexpot? Harley was certain that she had done nothing of the sort.
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” she told the man in a matter-of-fact voice, “so don’t waste your money buying me drinks if that’s what you think. But I’ll have another Vodka Martini and probably another one after that. I just don’t want you to spend your money under false pretences. Anyhow, what’s your name?"
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Rag-A-Muffin
6
posts
1
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I'm a hero to some, but a villain to many.
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Post by Zachary Barrow on Aug 5, 2017 16:11:14 GMT -6
"A couple medium dry Vodka Martinis with a pieces of lemon peel for this lovely lady." Barrow called to the bartender who started making the blonde's drink. She told him that he wasn't going to sleep with her. The way she said that was almost defensive. It was as if she thought of him as just another man whose mind went completely blank whenever a beautiful woman came around.
“I’m not going to sleep with you." Her words echoed in his mind, “so don’t waste your money buying me drinks if that’s what you think." "No... No... I wasn't thinking that at all. Just needed some company... we had a pretty bad storm the other night. Anyone would need to heave down something to get their mind off of it." Zachary took another sip of his brandy, then pointed to his wedding band, "Besides, I've got two very special girls back home. One would have a heart attack if she even sensed a hair from another woman on my jacket and the other would cry if her Daddy wasn't there when she woke up." The vodka martini with lemon was finished, so he passed it over toward the blonde. "Name's Zach Barrow, by the way, and yours?"
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Rag-A-Muffin
23
posts
5
likes
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
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Post by Harley Quinn on Aug 5, 2017 17:14:41 GMT -6
While the bartender was building the drinks she drew her courier bag into her lap and groped within it. She found a lighter and set it on top of the bar, then fumbled reflexively within her bag for another moment, making sure the gun remained unseen and pulled out a pack of Marlboro’s. “You’re welcome to one,” she offered as she put a cigarette between her lips. There was several impatient clicks at the lighter, and then a sharper snap as she put the lighter back in her bag and closed the fastening.
She listened attentively, but also watched the look on the man's face for the slightest trace of lust or decite. She seemed to accept his story and nodded her head in approval. “It was a bad storm,” she agreed. “I was lucky not to get caught in it."
The bartender placed the drinks on the bar and Harley thanked the man as he handed them to her. She drank half of the first Martini at a gulp and put the glass down firmly on the bar. “Barrow, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said with a smile, then added, “call me Harley.” She finished her Martini.
“It’s curious though don’t you think, here you are drinking with me, yet you supposedly have a loving wife and child at home.” Her eye’s narrowed and she looked at him accusingly. "Why is that?" She picked up her second Martini and looked at it. Then very slowly, in three swallows, she drank it down. “Barrow, tell me a secret. I love secrets. Everyone has them. I bet you’ve some great ones.”
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Rag-A-Muffin
6
posts
1
likes
I'm a hero to some, but a villain to many.
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Post by Zachary Barrow on Aug 9, 2017 16:07:09 GMT -6
At the request of a cigarette, Zachary nodded and sneakily took one from the pack. "Ya mind sharing that light of yours, Miss Harley?" He smiled and sipped some more of his brandy before giving it a little raise. "Cheers... to living," he toasted before finishing the glass. He was done for the moment, but he still wanted to talk to his new friend.
“It’s curious though, don’t you think? Here you are drinking with me, yet you supposedly have a loving wife and child at home. Why is that? Barrow, tell me secret. I love secrets. Everyone has them. I bet you’ve some great ones.” His eyes widened. Was she some undercover detective or member of law enforcement? Even if she was, he'd still consider her to at least be an acquaintance. "Although I love them dearly, it's nice to have some time to myself, hang out with other women..." He smirked, twiddling the cigarette in between his fingers and listening to the rest of Harley's questions about secrets. "Okay then, Harley. I'll tell you a secret as long as you tell me one of yours."
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Rag-A-Muffin
23
posts
5
likes
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
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Post by Harley Quinn on Aug 9, 2017 17:41:02 GMT -6
Harley nodded at his request for the lighter and pulled it from her courier bag. This time she left it on top of the bar, just incase it was needed again. “Cheers,” she echoed smilingly. Too bad she didn’t have all that much of her drink left at that point to be thankful for.
It was fairly obvious that Barrow’s suspicions were heightened by Harley's curiosity, he seemed weary and for good reason, but Harley believed in being upfront. She was constantly meeting people who were fake. She assumed all people at times showed one face in public and another face in private. The weak pretended to be strong, cowards, pretended to be brave, losers pretended to be winners, perverts pretended to be normal, mad men pretended to be sane, criminals pretended to be honest, liars pretended to be truthful and whores pretended to be good girls.
For better or for worse most everyone had two sides, the side they showed and the side they hid. But there were other people where what you see is what you got. Harley thought it funny, that the up-front person was the one who was generally criticised. “Ok,” she agreed. “I’ll start us off. One time I seriously considered killing my own father and burying his body.” she said, twirling a long loop of blonde hair around and around her finger. Without missing a beat she added, “Now, it’s your turn Barrow. Tell me a secret.”
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