Post by hearts on Aug 1, 2015 2:48:12 GMT -5
The Handmaid:
It was about eight at night when Boxcar's cell phone went off. Whether he answered or not was irrelevant, voice mail could always grab the message. The message was simple, it only had three words. "Forget me not." Click!!
That night was particularly chilly, and Kiki for one was glad she had decided against open toed shoes, instead donning a nice pair of ankle boots. It had been a week or two since she contacted Boxcars last. It was only recently that she thought of some information worth sharing with the man. Within that time a few things had happened. She killed two men as The Handmaid, and promptly was called up to make the flower arrangements for their funerals. It was all in all a productive few weeks.
Stopping at a cross walk she pushed the button of the post beside her, quickly shoving her hand away in her pocket. She had forgotten her gloves at home, a mistake on her part, but that's what pockets were for. Sniffling from the cold she tapped her foot with impatience, the toe of her boot clicking against the pavement.
There was just one thing that kept this night from being perfect, that would be, the man leaning against the building behind her. She wasn't stupid, she could feel his eyes on her, trying to see if she'd be and easy target. He had been following her for some time now, and she continued to play dumb, in hopes that he would simply give up wander off. This guy was persistent however, and didn't seem to want to leave her alone. A stupid move on his part, in fact, she was almost waiting for him to make one wrong move. One wrong move and she'd take no mercy when it came to proving him how poor his choices were that night.
Hearts Boxcars:
Boxcars starts awake from his light doze on his couch, the beep of his cellphone having pulled him from the depths of unconscious.
Cue the obligatory lip smacking and disoriented groping for the offending cellular device. Ugh, who the hell was trying to contact him this.. early?? late???? His sleep schedule was fucked honestly. Probably just Slick with a job or something to give.
Flipping his shitty little flip phone open and listening to the voice message, a few things become overtly clear.
-This wasn’t Slick.
-Its been a few weeks and contact with Kiki was a pleasant surprise.
-He wasn’t sure how to feel about being pleasantly surprised that someone so close to the Felt was contacting him.
Rolling his ass out of the apartment adorned in his usual black trench coat and hat, the large mobster sets off towards the pub.
Christ, what did he even do these past weeks? He vaguely remembered visiting a few drug stores and delivering a few ‘packages’ to some associates, but that was about the extent of his productivity. Ah well, least he can rub this in Slick’s face when he comes back with useful information. It was going to be a cold day in hell before Slick said “I told you so” about this deal.
Hopefully.
Thankfully, the distance between his home and the pub was pretty meager, so walking it
was. Probably only take 10 minutes or so to mosey on over.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
The pedestrian sign for the crosswalk lit up, and Handmaid crossed the street, the stranger following behind her. Grinding her teeth lightly she continued to The Empty Mug. What this guy's motivation was she couldn't tell, all she knew though was that he was easily ruining her mood. She continued onward, the man following her the entire way, but soon enough The Mug was in sight. Kiki found herself stuck at another crosswalk, the last street crossing she would make before reaching the mug.
Staring straight ahead she didn't notice Boxcars across the way, lips pursing into a thin line when she heard footsteps behind her. Something, a gun, was pressed up to her back and her hidden hands curled into fists.
"Now thi-!!!"
The man didn't get a second word in before Kiki stepped back harshly on his toes with the heel of her boot. He yelped out in pain as she circled around on him with her other heel planted firmly in the ground, taking the element of surprise to her advantage. Still in shock the man's grip on the gun was loose enough for Kiki to snatch it up, and so she did. A sharp set of slurs were spewed from Kiki's mouth in some foreign language before she pointed the gun down and shot the man in the knee caps. First one, then the other.
Just as the man started to fall Kiki flipped the gun in her hand and smashed the butt of the gun against the man's skull. Watching him fall she dropped the gun to the concrete
beneath her, spitting on the unconscious sucker before turning around like nothing had happened. Sniffing at the cold air she continued to wait for the crossing sign, making her way over to the other side of the street when it was allowed. For someone who just shot a guy in the shins she sure seemed to care a lot about road safety.
Hearts Boxcars:
What the fuck was this brouhaha now. Squinting to see in the dimly lit street, a look recognition flits past his face when Kiki comes into view. Huh, guess she had the same idea in walking here this night.
Wait, something wasn’t right with this picture. The guy approaching her from behind spelled bad news, and Boxcars quickened his pace to close the gap between the two.
Jesus.
Jesus.
In the few short moments that it took for Kiki to disarm and violently neutralize the unnamed ne’er do well, Boxcars had stopped dead in his tracks and simply watched with a mixture of amazement and.. well, no that was the primary emotion here.
Though it did raise some questions.
She was a flower shop owner for Christ’s sake, where the hell did she learn how to do that??
Whatever, point was his contact was relatively safe and the would be mugger seemed
to be bleeding out slowly. Nice. Eh, he’d be fine. Probably.
Pushing aside any underlaying thoughts, he shakes his head and finally gets around to hauling his ass over to Kiki.
“JEEsus- well, first of all, glad tah see yah made it in one piece. Second of all, JEESUS, where tha hell’d yah learn that???”
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Well. Shit. Hearing Boxcars Kiki couldn't help but purse her lips a little. Shit, she was too busy shooting a man in the kneecaps to realize he was there, and he fucking saw, everything. Deep breaths Kiki, deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The line turned into a slight frown. "It's a long story... I'll explain everything once we get something to drink," she sighed, running a hand through her shorter hair before approaching The Empty Mug and opening the door. "After you." She politely stepped aside, holding the door open for Boxcars, eyes closed as she tried to figure out the best way to explain what had just happened without blowing her cover completely.
Hearts Boxcars:
A long story, hoo boy. Raising his eyebrows to the MAX, Hearts rubs his eyes and mumbles a response.
“That’s.. alright, fine. Yah persuaded me. From what I recall, yah owe me a few scotches anyways.”
And cue the quasi-smarmy grin, completely oblivious to the fact that somebody was essentially killed not 10 minutes ago.
Taking Kiki’s cue, he steps into the establishment and removes his hat; setting that shit down when he approaches the bar.
No, god damn it. Getcher head in the game, Hearts.
Waving the barkeep over, he quietly requests a couple of scotches before actually taking a seat. Something told him he’d be needing them.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Once Hearts stepped inside Kiki followed suit, closing the door behind her. Carefully undoing her jacket she shrugged it off and set it on one of the bar stools before taking a seat next to Hearts. She ordered a kamikaze and closed her eyes again, trying to figure out the right wording in her head. "Okay, so, where do I begin...?" The question was rhetorical so she continued. "It's... Fairly simple I suppose, it's the reason why The Felt relies on me in the first place... Before I moved to Midnight City I was in gangs... A lot, of gangs... Say..." She began slowly counting on her fingers. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10... Oh... She ran out of fingers... "... A lot of gangs. Twelve I think? Maybe thirteen..." Re-count... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 and... Yes, okay yes, 13. "Yes, thirteen."
Hearts Boxcars:
“Christ..” Hearts mutters under his breath. Before the Midnight Crew, even he hadn’t been running with that many gangs.
Two was it? Yeah, two back home and then The Midnight Crew. But even then, they hardly constituted as gangs.
Kiki only furthered to interest him, though he still couldn’t place if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Ah well.
“So, in so many words, not yer average flower shop owner, yeah?"
Casual sip of his drink that had finally arrived.
"Go on."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Taking a deep breath Kiki thanked the bar tender for their drinks, paid and tipped him and then took a long sip of her own. "Ahh," she let out a light sigh after setting her glass down, trying to figure out her next few sentences. "Well, I jumped from gang to gang, mostly because I moved a lot, but then one day... Well, I decided I was done. So I took the last move as a fresh start, and opened the floral shop... The Felt found me out though, and have threatened not only my life but to expose me to the police for who I am." This was partially true. She had been found by The Felt when she was trying to get out of the lifestyle, but it was them who got her to move to Midnight City in the first place.
Hearts Boxcars:
Boxcars continues to listen, not even noticing Kiki’s stalling as she recalled her totally legit story that was not at all fabricated.
“Ah-huh..”
He trails off, scratching at his chin and taking another sip of his drink.
“Tryin tah get outta tha game don’t work too well usually. Know a coupla fellas’ that went through somethin similar.”
Setting down his glass, Hearts readjusted his jacket and continued.
“Before I get ahead a myself here, business should be takin priority. What was this tidbit a info youse wanted tah drop on me concernin tha felt?”
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Oh yes, the information she supposed to supply him with. "Right... Well, two of them were in the shop, they talk more when there's more than one of them... They were mentioning something about The Host, about how what they were picking up was of great importance to him. The package they were picking up was just a thick manila envelope... On their way out something was said about... Building plans? And land deeds. I can only assume they were talking about the large empty lot up for dispute in the Daub district, since that's the biggest land plot around that has been news worthy attention." She knew for fact it was involving the large empty lot in the Daub district, but he didn't need to know that.
Hearts Boxcars:
He nods as the other spills the deets, taking a sip from his class as he did so. Daub District huh. Place was a pile of shit, but it had its redeeming values. And the empty lot definitely had potential. Something The Felt seemed to be aware of.
Hearts was more concerned about The Felt encroaching in on the Daub District though.
Polishing off his glass and setting it aside, Hearts fishes around in his pockets for the
ever familiar wallet of his. Gotta hold up his end of the deal ya'know.
"So Felt's takin some liberties an edgin inna tha Daub District huh.. fuckin hell".
Finding said wallet, he flips it open and rustles through it.
"For somethin that big, howse a few grand sound?"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"So it would seem," she sighed, tracing her finger around the rim of her glass, stopping when he brought up payment. A few grand? Really now? He carried that on him? Perhaps he was simply expecting to haul out the bills because of her message... "As wonderful as that would be, I wouldn't want to be putting you out of dough." A partial truth. "Thousands seems a bit high for first time transactions anyhow... Why don't we start small? As much as I appreciate getting paid for the information, I wouldn't feel right taking so much from what is mostly an assumption on my part."
Hearts Boxcars:
He cocks an eyebrow and shrugs. While yes, he really did just carry that much on him usually, a plot of land like she was talking about had a lot of cash potential. Fuck a few grand, try a few million. Assuming you invested in a casino and plopped it right in the fucking Daud District.
Well, shit, didn’t even have to be a casino. Land was land, and it sure as hell held it’s value well.
“Hey, whateva floats yer boat. Let’s just say that money ain’t an object at tha moment, an it ain’t like you’re not riskin yer neck just bein here or nothin, right? But fine, howse 500 sound?”
That, and he was a dunkass and kind of preemptively backed handmaid’s conceptual horse on this one. Oops.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
She nodded and picked up her glass, draining it dry before setting it down on the table, asking the bartender for another. "That would work, thank you..." And then silence fell. It was a lucky break on her part, having moved to business completely derailed the topic of conversation pertaining to herself. She wondered how long that would last though, and thanked the bartender for her fresh drink.
Hearts Boxcars:
Lesse here now. One, two, three, four, five... five hundred dollar bills. Discreetly as all heck, he sets the cash onto the bar and slides it towards Kiki. Business, yeah. Keepin' it professional. P r o f e s s i o n a l. Or, as much as he could when it came to illegal activities and crime syndicates.
But to break the silence or not was the question. There wasn't exactly more pertaining to the land plot that he could ask about, the guy outside was probably dead, and by all means, their business was over for now. Yet something kept him in his seat.
Ordering a final drink, he turns to speak up once more.
"So uh, youse gonna bet takin off fer the night then?"
Hm. That sounded a little less awkward in his head.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Carefully taking the cash Kiki tucked it away into her coat pocket before glancing over to Boxcars. "Well... I wouldn't mind, at all really, staying until you finished your drink, or, are you trying to get rid of me?" She smiled a little with her teasing, tracing the rim of her glass once more before picking it up and taking a slow sip. She did actually enjoy Boxcars' company to be honest, he was different, in a good way, and she liked it. Not the same old gross Felt members day in and day out, his company was a nice change of pace.
Hearts Boxcars:
He momentarily gathers his thoughts by taking a few sips of his newly arrived drink.
"Hey now, I ain't against flappin gums an shootin tha shit with someone. Hell, maybe I oughta tell youse a lil bout what I did before tha Midnight City."
That and he kind of didn't want her to go juuuuust yet. Heck, he enjoyed her company too. Perhaps just a little more than he should have, but that was alright.
Right?
Right.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Her smile grew a tad as she picked up and downed her drink. "I think that sounds like a grand idea... After all, you know about what I was up to before moving here, I suppose it's only fair to share such information at this point. Perhaps though, we could, leave to somewhere a bit more comfortable? I make space out of the apartment above the Poppy. It isn't much, but it has a couch and I must admit a couch seems far more favorable to a bar stool at the moment."
Hearts Boxcars:
[o] Hearts: Assess the situation.
Alright, so.
Kiki's invited him up to her pad. Cool.
Kiki's relationship with The Felt is dubious and suspicious at best. Uncool.
Kiki shot a dude's fucking kneecaps off like 30 minutes ago. Cool.
Kiki also got you information and bought you drinks and shit. Cool.
Kiki may have also lied about everything tonight and possibly more. Uncool.
Weighing his options for a brief moment, Boxcars swallows the rest of his drink thickly and sets it back on the counter.
"Ya'know what? Sure, I've got nothin betta tah do at tha crack a dawn anyhow. Can't argue with couches bein betta than barstools though. Things'll be tha death a my lumbar, swear tah christ."
Saying all this as he slowly rises, yah dig.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
This time her smile grew enough to reach the backs of her eyes. She hadn't had company in a while, it would be a nice change. "Wonderful." She pulled out enough money to pay for that night's drinks and tip the bartender graciously before standing and slipping on her coat. "It is a bit of a walk, but I have some bourbon at home, warms you right up. I might even have some Johnnie Walker, if you're lucky." Heels clacking against the floor of the bar she started to the door, quite pleased with the events of the evening so far. "Shall we?"
Hearts Boxcars:
Her grin proves to be infectious, his own smile starting to take rise. Walkin' ain't no thing; hell, he walked the entire way here anyways.
Admittedly, he'd be smack dab in Felt Territory, but what those goons didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Right?
Subtly stretching his arms, Hearts responds.
"Please, yah had me at yer couch bein favorable tah these here barstools. Don't gotta sweeten the deal."
Making his way over to the door, he continues as he re-dons his trusty hat.
"Yeah, lets blow this joint. Startin tah give it a bad name anyways."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Still smiling Kiki headed out the door. She waited at the cross walk for Boxcars to catch up, and also for he light to change so they could cross. She seemed oddly concerned with street safety for someone who "shot a dude's fucking kneecaps off like 30 minutes ago." She had her reasons though.
Hearts Boxcars:
Quickening his pace, the mobster soon catches up to the other and walks in tandem with her. Yeah, cool. Crossing the street and having flagrant disregard for aforementioned kneecapless Mcgee, Hearts pipes up with a question.
"So, yah mighta already said this, but how long youse had this flower shop again?"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
When passing the dead shinless man, Kiki spat down on his corpse before continuing forward. "About oh... Five years now? I opened it up when I was twenty one," She informed, walking along like she didn't just spit on a corpse. It wasn't much longer before they reached the shop, Kiki reaching into her coat pocket to pull out the keys. Plucking up the correct one she opened the door and flicked on the lights. "We have to go in through the shop. The entrance to the apartment is in the back half." The
store itself was painted a bright burgundy on the inside, and smelled sweetly of all the fresh flowers inside. "I'd like to lock the door once we're both in, if that's alright with you. You should be able to open it from inside though, once you wish to leave."
Hearts Boxcars:
Christ almighty, Kiki had no chill. Nevertheless, Hearts listened to her as they walked, taking a few moments of mental calculation to realize that Kiki was 26. He wasn't exactly the best when it came to quick/simple calculations off the top of ones head. It was. Pretty sad come to think of it but nah, he pushed that from his mind now.
Gaining a semi-impressed expression, Boxcars responds.
"5 years, wow. Must be some kinda popular 'round here with alla tha young lovas an what have yah."
Shit, that reminded him. He wasn't done with that shitty romance book he bought from the corner store yesterday. Shit. How was Juliano gonna woo Haliet??????? Guess it'll be a mystery for now.
Hoo boy. Nodding and stepping into the flower shop, it's yet another mixed bag. Yeah, the smell was nice but the bright Burgundy was a bit... tacky. In his eyes at least. There's probably people tripping over themselves somewhere to paint their house like this or some shit.
"No, I understand. Be kinna hard tah explain if onna tha felt just walked on in or somethin."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"Oh, they shouldn't be coming around at this time of night... And if they did, I surely would be kicking their sorry asses right back out onto the street," she informed, locking the door once Boxcars had stepped inside. "There." With that done she started to the counter, which had a doorway behind it. The door was missing, but a large decorative cloth hung in it's place. She pushed the curtain away and revealed a small hallway with doors on either side of it.
Walking to the back of the hallway she turned in through another doorway and started up some stairs which lead to the apartment above. It didn't take her long to get to the top and unlock the door, stepping into and revealing the apartment. It was quaintly furnished, the walls a soft green color. She stepped into the living room, the kitchen connected on the side, left open with only a smooth marble counter top with bar stools around it separating the rooms. In the living room was a large cushy black couch on a plush off-white carpet.
Kiki wasted no time in pulling off her jacket and setting it on the kitchen counter before plopping down onto the couch and working on removing her shoes. A light relieved sigh was let out, setting the shoes off to the side before carefully starting to remove her stockings. "Feel free to take a seat, I just want to get these off before grabbing the drinks."
Hearts Boxcars:
Oh, hey. She was taking off her shoes.
Should.
Should he take off his shoes as well? But that would imply he was going to stay here for a bit. But was he? Fuck.
Nice stockings though.
Making a point to look elsewhere, Hearts removes his hat and shrugs off his signature trench-coat. A few moments of contemplation later, he folds that shit (shit being the overcoat) up and tucks it under his arm for the meantime.
Moseying on over to the couch, Hearts plops down onto that fucker (probably a bit closer to Kiki than necessary) and subsequently drops his coat (like it’s hot) next to himself.
“Hey, neva know with tha felt. Just sayin’ it ain’t too far outta tha realm a possibility.
But uh.
Yeah, take yer time.”
He had to hand it to her. This was a hells lot better than sitting his ass down on a barstool for 3+ hours at a time.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Once the stockings were slipped off and set aside Kiki wriggled her toes in the air, giving out a small relaxed sigh before standing up. "I can take those for you if you like, put them on the bar so you don't have to keep holding onto them," she offered, nodding to Boxcars' coat and hat. She didn't wait for an answer though, walking into the kitchen and opening up one of the top cupboards to reveal quite the wide liquor selection. She pulled out two bottles, one scotch and one southern comfort before opening another cabinet to take out a pair of glasses. She filled each glass, one with the so' co', one with the scotch, and returned to the couch, offering Hearts his glass. Taking a sip of her drink her eyes wandered back to the coat and hat, waiting for an answer.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts opens his mouth to answer, only to stall as Kiki ditches to go to the kitchen and grab some drinks. Not that he would really complain; despite the couple of drinks he had back in the pub, he still had a thirst to quench.
In the few short moments she had gone, he moved the coat and hat to his lap, tapping his fingers in nervous agitation. Hell, drink might even settle him a bit.
Though he had to wonder what drove him to this point; and not just to this apartment. What drove him to make a deal with such a shady character without even a simple background check? Simple trust in a stranger; a thought that has rebounded countless times in his head as he sat there, the short moments ticking away as she returned with the drinks.
Pushing the notions aside as he had done before, Hearts cracks a grin and accepted aforementioned drink, a bit quick to sip it before remembering the question she had asked.
“Oh uh, yeah sure thing. An again, thanks fer havin’ me ova."
Boxcars coughs, taking another sip before setting the glass down and forking over the hat and coat.
"Alla tha boys got their signature duds, ya'know. Makes it somethin' else when we all hit tha streets i'll tell yah."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Gathering up the hat and coat Kiki gave a soft smile, draping the coat over one arm and holding the hat with the corresponding hand. In her other hand she carried her glass of liquor, taking another sip before walking back to the bar in her kitchen and setting the clothes down. Once that was done she returned to the couch, plopping right down next to Hearts, closer than she had been sitting before. "How is your drink? I would hope you find it suitable. A friend of mine gave me that scotch, but I prefer my southern comfort, so I only serve it to guests. Specifically, guests I like. There have been far too many guests here who I haven't liked..." Her nose wrinkled up in distaste before it smoothed out and she sighed. "It cannot be helped... Until this shop is Felt free, I am sure to be getting many more unwanted guests in the future. Enough of that though, we came back here to talk about you yes?" She draped her free arm over the back of the couch, turning to face him more as she pulled her leg up to rest on the cushions. Giving a smile she took another sip from her glass, drumming her fingers on the back cushion idly as she waited for him to satisfy her curiosities.
Hearts Boxcars:
And there she goes with his clothes, Hearts eyes tracking her movements as she takes
care of the thing-a-ma-bobs; piping back up when she finally returns and addresses him.
Add the gentle snort and quick sip before the actual TALKING mayhaps.
“Well yer friends got one hellva taste in liquor lemme tell yah.”
Setting the glass down once more, Boxcars rubs his thumb along the wetted edge before retracting his hand and continuing with what he was saying.
“This the kinna stuff you’d have with like uh.. some sorta fancy dessert yah know? An not talkin bout that dessert wine yah see at restaurants or nothin, just somethin strong tah compliment the sweet, ya’know?”
Shit, he was dangerously close to spiraling. Alright, it’s chill. She doesn’t know that you don’t actually know dick about alcohol yet.
Okay good she changed the subject. To The Felt of all things, unsurprising. Pushing his cheek out with his tongue in thought, he responds.
“Only a matta a time, even less if yah keep yer end of tha deal we’ve got goin here..”
Hearts pauses to readjust himself on the couch, mirroring Kiki and putting his arm on the back of the couch.
“As fer myself? Jeez,” Cue his free hand running through his hair.
“Shit, whatta wanna know?”
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"Anything you're willing to tell I suppose... But let's start with... What you like? That sounds fair enough to me. What do you like, what do you enjoy when you're not acting for The Crew? What tickles your fancy?" She smiled, quite content with the question she came up with. It was a good place to start, and in all honesty? She was actually interested in what he had to say. A rare occurrence to be truthful, she cared little about most people, especially people she was fooling in some way shape or form.. This seemed to be an exception to the rule, she was genuinely starting to like the man sitting on her couch. Her friends were far and few, and though she was hiding a great truth from Hearts, she found no harm in building upon whatever it was that they were forming. Though she had done her research proper on him as The Handmaid, she would be lying to say that wasn't what made her want to meet him in the first place. She was glad she did, glad he agreed to come to her apartment, and glad she was getting the chance to learn first hand what Hearts Boxcars was really like.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts nods in earnest, getting an idea for what he wanted to tell Kiki. He usually wasn’t so open or accepting, hell, the fact she got him here tonight was beyond him. There was a line to be straddled, and he did so with the eloquence and poise of a goddamn ballerino. Yeah, ballerino. You know, the stupid name that they have for male ballerinas. Yeah, that.
Said line was straddled due to multiple reasons, most of which have already been stated, but the bottom line being that he’s an absolute fucking sap when it came down
to it. And of course, Kiki had cut through his layers of bullshit and guff and straight to his disgustingly gooey feely core. Sorta anyways. Like if it was a butter knife that somebody forgot to heat and there was gross butter residue everywhere. He was a multi-faceted guy, gooey and mushy just wasn’t his entire bag. He still felt himself reserved in some aspects due to his loyalties to the Midnight Crew and such. Not really something you drop so flagrantly.
Rubbing his chin idly with his free hand, he contemplates a few responses before answering.
“Ah crap, ain’t that a broad line a questionin..
Alright, so I got a few guilty pleasures, but who don’t amirite?”
He clears his throat before continuing, the arm over the side of the couch inching towards Handmaid’s.
“‘Course I ain’t ashamed none neither, but romance novels, hooooo boy. Cheaper tha betta, like tha crap yah find down at tha dime store. Same goes fer flicks come tah think ‘bout it.”
His arm shifts ever so slightly down the couch like ayyyy.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Romance? She raised a curious brow. Really now? Consider her interest piqued. She mulled this over in her brain for a bit, fingers still mindlessly drumming on the back of the couch before a smile tugged at her lips. "What are some of your favorites then? Movies, particularly." She brought her glass to her lips, staining it with more lipstick as
she took a slow sip, eyes trained on her guest. Of all the things to be interested in, Kiki would have to admit this wasn't one she had pegged him for. To be honest, she wasn't sure what she WOULD peg Hearts for, but certainly not trashy romance novels. As she waited for him to compile a list of his preferred romantic movies, she splayed the fingers of her free hand out on the couch cushion, the tips of which nearing Hearts' ever so slightly.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hell yeah, romance. He could go on for days about that crap, regardless of who he was talking to. Did that make him a hopeless romantic? No, not necessarily. Just a guy who was heavily entrenched in the concept of it.
Shit, favorite romance movies. Time to get cracking.
“Weeeeeeeell, can’t go wrong with tha classics. I’m talkin ’50 First Dates’, ‘Princess Bride' an ‘Titanic’. Course, if we’re gettin archaic, ‘Macbeth’ an ‘Hamlet’ fit tha bill nicely’.”
All the while, his calloused fingers finally reach the others digits, brushing up against Kiki’s hand in a pretty conspicuous manner; serious danger of completely overlapping.
He of course would play it off like it was nothing, probably only addressing it if she mentioned or complained. Shit, how would she react though is the question.
Shit, now he wanted to go on about trashy romance novels. Time and a place Hearts, time and a place.
He ended his small list by whetting his lips once again with the scotch. Yeah, that
should help settle the ol’ nerves.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
When their fingers touched her smile grew slightly, and she kept her hand still as if inviting him to reach further. "I didn't know '50 First Dates,' was a classic," she teased before taking another sip of her southern comfort. "I do not believe I've ever thought of 'Hamlet,' as a romance though. Perhaps some day you could teach me more about it, it is one of my favorite plays. I find it quite comedic." She brought her glass to her lips once more, slowly swallowing down the remainder of her drink before leaning over to set the now empty glass on the floor. Her other hand remained in place on the couch cushion, staying perfectly still, waiting to see just where Hearts' fingers would wander.
Hearts Boxcars:
She wasn't complaining, hell, she seemed into it! This was encouraging enough for him to bravely trail his finger a bit higher up her hand before coming down and tracing a small circle on the top of said hand. A bold move on his part. The real test.
"Alright yeah, basically everybody kicked tha bucket, but i'm still classifyin it as such." Hearts quipped.
"Though I'm surprised yah didn't comment on Macbeth; s'bout as loose to romantic as yah can get really."
His own glass now sat empty on the floor, his free hand resting comfortably on the couch.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"Oh well, you know, what is more romantic than killing someone for the betterment of the person you love?" she jested, hand remaining still as she shifted in her seat, leaning in just a bit. She beamed at him, lifting her hand slightly to press it against his own as she continued to clear the small distance between them. The bold move on her part came next. She placed her lips against his own, gently, barely pressing her skin to his. The real test.
Hearts Boxcars:
What registered next in his head was a series of conflicted but overall pleasantly surprised signals. On one end, he was just about to ask what the hell she meant, but on the other, he somehow knew that this was coming. Be it the acceptance of the hand touching or the entire set up of this situation that just spelled out this inevitable kiss, it was happening. And he sure as hell was gonna rock the hell out of it.
The soft and tender kiss, while setting his heart aflutter, demanded reciprocation. (Like a goddamned blood tribute.) And who was he to deny? #Homes smell ya later.
Hearts pressed back into the kiss, eyelid's slipping down to half mast as he savored the softness of her lips, craving more of the affection. His hands (having since stopped being relevant up until this point), slide slowly up Kiki's hand and arm and pause on her shoulder.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Kiki's lips smiled against his own for a brief moment, her eyes closed as she felt him
press back against her. As his hand reached up to her shoulder, her own free one reached up to his neck, fingers ghosting over the skin before settling down. After letting the kiss last just a moment longer, she slowly pulled away, opening her eyes to look up into his. She smiled again, the fingers on Hearts' neck gently pressing in affectionately before relieving the tender pressure they had been applying. This was nice, better than nice, maybe even near perfect. She wasn't quite sure why she liked it all so much, but she did, and she was more than just content to let it keep on going, whatever it was.
Hearts Boxcars:
They don’t call him Hearts for nothing. While he wasn’t sure what ‘perfect’ was, he was pretty damn sure this was close. Then again, he was a sap that watched rom-coms and read trashy romance novels, so it wasn’t much surprise that his standards for kind of stuff was a bit different than compared to most.
As she pulled away from the kiss, Hearts let out a soft breath that he had been holding back (just like in his japanese animus) and locked gaze with Kiki’s. A tender moment for them both, both their respective guards down with their more filthy tender emotions out on display. Disgusting.
Should he say something? No, better idea.
Alright, his turn. Yeah, he had this down. For sure. The hand on her shoulder continued its expedition north and finally reached her cheek, cupping the HELL out of that thing. That is, before he leaned in again to press his lips lightly to hers again, eager to continue what had just ended.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Feeling his hand on her cheek Kiki closed her eyes once more, smiling as she felt the rough skin of his hand touch her own smooth flesh. A content breath was released before the feeling of Hearts' lips on hers again came to the forefront of her mind. She kissed back, the hand on his neck reaching over to splay out on the back of his shoulder, as if acting in some attempt to keep him in place, not wanting him to move away.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts has completely relaxed in the short while they had been kissing, finally breaking the connection to take a breath and reassess the situation.
Okay.
Okay that was. That was a thing that happened. Come on Hearts, you're a gangster. Fucking hard mobster that wouldn't think twice about tearing a guy's limbs off. And still, his expression remained soft. Time to break the silence.
"Gotta say.. that's a lot betta than killin' someone fer the betterment of anotha."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
When the kiss was broken Kiki's lips curled upward softly, leaning forward again to rest her head on his shoulder with closed eyes. "I think you just might be right," she sighed out, words content as she slid the hand on his back around to slip down his arm and onto his own hand. "Incredibly right." She curled her fingers around his own, squeezing them lightly. The smile on her face did not waver, plastered there with upturned lips and small crinkles by her eyelids. She was happy.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts' heart was, ironically, aflutter. I mean, that's not how irony works but fuck you. Leaning his head against hers, his own simper obscenely large. Like damn son.
Christ, that entire event had just flown by him. Their lips touching; being one, if only for the briefest of moments.
A fleeting connection that only served to cement him on the line of uncertainty. His rational mind taking back control, his eyes snapped open as implications began to form. No, he could worry later. Pretending there wasn't a fire in the kitchen if just to make this moment last a bit longer.
Though there was the trouble of the time. Hearts had lost track since his time here, and it was undoubtedly some ungodly hour in the morning.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Another content sigh before she slowly pulled away. Time had escaped her as well, that was, until she glanced past Hearts to the clock on the wall behind him. "Oh my..." Quickly her mind perked up, cogs turning once more as she looked back to Hearts. She didn't want him to leave, not just yet... Maybe... Maybe if she just, casually... "Would you like to spend the night?" Ah yes, so casual, good job Kiki, wonderful job blurting that out there. Maybe her head wasn't as clear as she thought.
Hearts Boxcars:
Spend the night, shit. Unfortunately, his word filter was down for the time-being as well.
"Abso-fuckin-lutely."
Tch.
How gauche.
Not really registering what he had said for a few seconds, he tacks onto what he said. "..Wait, what time is it?"
Shit.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Her eyes flicked back to the clock. "2:47 in the a.m. so almost three." She looked back to him before carefully standing up. "I'll get some extra pillows... I have a king, so we can both use it. The couch is comfortable, but not the best for sleeping on. Terrible for one's back and neck I am afraid. I would know..." She flashed him a brief soft smile before bending down to gather up their empty glasses. "Let me put these in the sink first. The bedroom is through the door on the left, right there behind the couch."
Hearts Boxcars:
"Shit, 2:47?? Cripes, later than I thought.." He mumbles, absently rubbing at the back of his neck; still attempting to process all that's happened.
Wait, sleeping in the same bed with her. Holy shit.
"Wait, youse sure bout that? As in, completely hundred percent fine with sharin a bed?" Okay, that came out wrong.
"Not that I'm complainin none but,"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Carrying the glasses to the kitchen Kiki smiled again, though he couldn't see it. "Mr. Boxcars, I am an adult, and I am pretty damn sure I can handle sharing a bed with someone," she teased. After setting the cups in her sink she turned and walked back to the couch, picking up her shoes and stockings. "Though if you are really that concerned we could always create the ever baring pillow wall between ourselves, though personally, call me selfish if you will, I would much prefer if we did not have to resort to that."
Hearts Boxcars:
Boxcars just snorts at the idea and rubs his eyes. Ugh, the strain of the day really just hit him all at once.
"Alright, alright, yah gotta point there. Guess I'm just ovathinkin it or somethin."
Deep breath out, he finally stands after god knows how long. "So, i'll just follow yah tah yer bedroom then?"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Nodding Kiki walked to the door she mentioned earlier. "This way." Opening it up she revealed a large bedroom, a door on the right wall leading into the apartment's only bathroom. There was a large dresser by that door, and an even larger bed pressed against the opposing wall. The bed was indeed a king, a large periwinkle comforter
covering it with only a few sparse plum colored pillows at the head. On the other side of the dresser was a pair of sliding doors that opened up into a closet. Inside the closet were the exact extra pillows Kiki had mentioned earlier, and setting her shoes in the bottom of the closet with the rest of her shoe collection, her stockings on top of the dresser, she reached up for the pillows. Each time she tugged one down she tossed it over to the bed, pulling out about five extra pillows all together, all wearing the same covers as the ones already on the bed. "There, now, you get comfy, I am going to change into some pyjamas." With that stated she pulled said jammies out and slipped away into the bathroom to change.
Hearts Boxcars:
So Hearts is pretty much the god damn epitome of ecstatic at this point. All internalized of course. Having already been standing, he follows Kiki’s lead into the bedroom and nods approvingly. Nice choice of colors there m8.
Okay, cool. Extra pillows alright nice. He was actually pretty damn tired, the fatigue having already begun the weary course of settling in his bones. Kicking off his shoes, he scoops those fuckers up and sets them at the edge of the bed neatly.
And now, the nightly ritual.
Well, it wasn’t really a ritual, more just him stripping down to his boxers and a shirt and falling face first onto the bed like ayyyyy.
Wriggling under the sheets and getting comfy, he mumbles something that sounds like a response to Kiki.
“Way ahead a yah, Kiki. Take yer time.”
Kiki was gonna look mad cute in those pj's wow.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Kiki did indeed look mad cute in those pjs, said pjs being a pair of blue flannel pants and a large plain white t-shirt. Walking back into the bedroom she headed to the door, turning off the lights before carefully making her way over to the bed. Noticing Hearts flopped down onto the bed she gave a smile before pulling the covers back on the opposing side and crawling in. Tugging the sheets and comforter up she rolled over onto her side, looking to Boxcars by the dim moonlight sneaking in through the windows. "Goodnight," she sighed out, closing her eyes with a satisfied smile. Things had turned out well that night, so very well indeed.
It was about eight at night when Boxcar's cell phone went off. Whether he answered or not was irrelevant, voice mail could always grab the message. The message was simple, it only had three words. "Forget me not." Click!!
That night was particularly chilly, and Kiki for one was glad she had decided against open toed shoes, instead donning a nice pair of ankle boots. It had been a week or two since she contacted Boxcars last. It was only recently that she thought of some information worth sharing with the man. Within that time a few things had happened. She killed two men as The Handmaid, and promptly was called up to make the flower arrangements for their funerals. It was all in all a productive few weeks.
Stopping at a cross walk she pushed the button of the post beside her, quickly shoving her hand away in her pocket. She had forgotten her gloves at home, a mistake on her part, but that's what pockets were for. Sniffling from the cold she tapped her foot with impatience, the toe of her boot clicking against the pavement.
There was just one thing that kept this night from being perfect, that would be, the man leaning against the building behind her. She wasn't stupid, she could feel his eyes on her, trying to see if she'd be and easy target. He had been following her for some time now, and she continued to play dumb, in hopes that he would simply give up wander off. This guy was persistent however, and didn't seem to want to leave her alone. A stupid move on his part, in fact, she was almost waiting for him to make one wrong move. One wrong move and she'd take no mercy when it came to proving him how poor his choices were that night.
Hearts Boxcars:
Boxcars starts awake from his light doze on his couch, the beep of his cellphone having pulled him from the depths of unconscious.
Cue the obligatory lip smacking and disoriented groping for the offending cellular device. Ugh, who the hell was trying to contact him this.. early?? late???? His sleep schedule was fucked honestly. Probably just Slick with a job or something to give.
Flipping his shitty little flip phone open and listening to the voice message, a few things become overtly clear.
-This wasn’t Slick.
-Its been a few weeks and contact with Kiki was a pleasant surprise.
-He wasn’t sure how to feel about being pleasantly surprised that someone so close to the Felt was contacting him.
Rolling his ass out of the apartment adorned in his usual black trench coat and hat, the large mobster sets off towards the pub.
Christ, what did he even do these past weeks? He vaguely remembered visiting a few drug stores and delivering a few ‘packages’ to some associates, but that was about the extent of his productivity. Ah well, least he can rub this in Slick’s face when he comes back with useful information. It was going to be a cold day in hell before Slick said “I told you so” about this deal.
Hopefully.
Thankfully, the distance between his home and the pub was pretty meager, so walking it
was. Probably only take 10 minutes or so to mosey on over.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
The pedestrian sign for the crosswalk lit up, and Handmaid crossed the street, the stranger following behind her. Grinding her teeth lightly she continued to The Empty Mug. What this guy's motivation was she couldn't tell, all she knew though was that he was easily ruining her mood. She continued onward, the man following her the entire way, but soon enough The Mug was in sight. Kiki found herself stuck at another crosswalk, the last street crossing she would make before reaching the mug.
Staring straight ahead she didn't notice Boxcars across the way, lips pursing into a thin line when she heard footsteps behind her. Something, a gun, was pressed up to her back and her hidden hands curled into fists.
"Now thi-!!!"
The man didn't get a second word in before Kiki stepped back harshly on his toes with the heel of her boot. He yelped out in pain as she circled around on him with her other heel planted firmly in the ground, taking the element of surprise to her advantage. Still in shock the man's grip on the gun was loose enough for Kiki to snatch it up, and so she did. A sharp set of slurs were spewed from Kiki's mouth in some foreign language before she pointed the gun down and shot the man in the knee caps. First one, then the other.
Just as the man started to fall Kiki flipped the gun in her hand and smashed the butt of the gun against the man's skull. Watching him fall she dropped the gun to the concrete
beneath her, spitting on the unconscious sucker before turning around like nothing had happened. Sniffing at the cold air she continued to wait for the crossing sign, making her way over to the other side of the street when it was allowed. For someone who just shot a guy in the shins she sure seemed to care a lot about road safety.
Hearts Boxcars:
What the fuck was this brouhaha now. Squinting to see in the dimly lit street, a look recognition flits past his face when Kiki comes into view. Huh, guess she had the same idea in walking here this night.
Wait, something wasn’t right with this picture. The guy approaching her from behind spelled bad news, and Boxcars quickened his pace to close the gap between the two.
Jesus.
Jesus.
In the few short moments that it took for Kiki to disarm and violently neutralize the unnamed ne’er do well, Boxcars had stopped dead in his tracks and simply watched with a mixture of amazement and.. well, no that was the primary emotion here.
Though it did raise some questions.
She was a flower shop owner for Christ’s sake, where the hell did she learn how to do that??
Whatever, point was his contact was relatively safe and the would be mugger seemed
to be bleeding out slowly. Nice. Eh, he’d be fine. Probably.
Pushing aside any underlaying thoughts, he shakes his head and finally gets around to hauling his ass over to Kiki.
“JEEsus- well, first of all, glad tah see yah made it in one piece. Second of all, JEESUS, where tha hell’d yah learn that???”
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Well. Shit. Hearing Boxcars Kiki couldn't help but purse her lips a little. Shit, she was too busy shooting a man in the kneecaps to realize he was there, and he fucking saw, everything. Deep breaths Kiki, deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The line turned into a slight frown. "It's a long story... I'll explain everything once we get something to drink," she sighed, running a hand through her shorter hair before approaching The Empty Mug and opening the door. "After you." She politely stepped aside, holding the door open for Boxcars, eyes closed as she tried to figure out the best way to explain what had just happened without blowing her cover completely.
Hearts Boxcars:
A long story, hoo boy. Raising his eyebrows to the MAX, Hearts rubs his eyes and mumbles a response.
“That’s.. alright, fine. Yah persuaded me. From what I recall, yah owe me a few scotches anyways.”
And cue the quasi-smarmy grin, completely oblivious to the fact that somebody was essentially killed not 10 minutes ago.
Taking Kiki’s cue, he steps into the establishment and removes his hat; setting that shit down when he approaches the bar.
No, god damn it. Getcher head in the game, Hearts.
Waving the barkeep over, he quietly requests a couple of scotches before actually taking a seat. Something told him he’d be needing them.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Once Hearts stepped inside Kiki followed suit, closing the door behind her. Carefully undoing her jacket she shrugged it off and set it on one of the bar stools before taking a seat next to Hearts. She ordered a kamikaze and closed her eyes again, trying to figure out the right wording in her head. "Okay, so, where do I begin...?" The question was rhetorical so she continued. "It's... Fairly simple I suppose, it's the reason why The Felt relies on me in the first place... Before I moved to Midnight City I was in gangs... A lot, of gangs... Say..." She began slowly counting on her fingers. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10... Oh... She ran out of fingers... "... A lot of gangs. Twelve I think? Maybe thirteen..." Re-count... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 and... Yes, okay yes, 13. "Yes, thirteen."
Hearts Boxcars:
“Christ..” Hearts mutters under his breath. Before the Midnight Crew, even he hadn’t been running with that many gangs.
Two was it? Yeah, two back home and then The Midnight Crew. But even then, they hardly constituted as gangs.
Kiki only furthered to interest him, though he still couldn’t place if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Ah well.
“So, in so many words, not yer average flower shop owner, yeah?"
Casual sip of his drink that had finally arrived.
"Go on."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Taking a deep breath Kiki thanked the bar tender for their drinks, paid and tipped him and then took a long sip of her own. "Ahh," she let out a light sigh after setting her glass down, trying to figure out her next few sentences. "Well, I jumped from gang to gang, mostly because I moved a lot, but then one day... Well, I decided I was done. So I took the last move as a fresh start, and opened the floral shop... The Felt found me out though, and have threatened not only my life but to expose me to the police for who I am." This was partially true. She had been found by The Felt when she was trying to get out of the lifestyle, but it was them who got her to move to Midnight City in the first place.
Hearts Boxcars:
Boxcars continues to listen, not even noticing Kiki’s stalling as she recalled her totally legit story that was not at all fabricated.
“Ah-huh..”
He trails off, scratching at his chin and taking another sip of his drink.
“Tryin tah get outta tha game don’t work too well usually. Know a coupla fellas’ that went through somethin similar.”
Setting down his glass, Hearts readjusted his jacket and continued.
“Before I get ahead a myself here, business should be takin priority. What was this tidbit a info youse wanted tah drop on me concernin tha felt?”
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Oh yes, the information she supposed to supply him with. "Right... Well, two of them were in the shop, they talk more when there's more than one of them... They were mentioning something about The Host, about how what they were picking up was of great importance to him. The package they were picking up was just a thick manila envelope... On their way out something was said about... Building plans? And land deeds. I can only assume they were talking about the large empty lot up for dispute in the Daub district, since that's the biggest land plot around that has been news worthy attention." She knew for fact it was involving the large empty lot in the Daub district, but he didn't need to know that.
Hearts Boxcars:
He nods as the other spills the deets, taking a sip from his class as he did so. Daub District huh. Place was a pile of shit, but it had its redeeming values. And the empty lot definitely had potential. Something The Felt seemed to be aware of.
Hearts was more concerned about The Felt encroaching in on the Daub District though.
Polishing off his glass and setting it aside, Hearts fishes around in his pockets for the
ever familiar wallet of his. Gotta hold up his end of the deal ya'know.
"So Felt's takin some liberties an edgin inna tha Daub District huh.. fuckin hell".
Finding said wallet, he flips it open and rustles through it.
"For somethin that big, howse a few grand sound?"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"So it would seem," she sighed, tracing her finger around the rim of her glass, stopping when he brought up payment. A few grand? Really now? He carried that on him? Perhaps he was simply expecting to haul out the bills because of her message... "As wonderful as that would be, I wouldn't want to be putting you out of dough." A partial truth. "Thousands seems a bit high for first time transactions anyhow... Why don't we start small? As much as I appreciate getting paid for the information, I wouldn't feel right taking so much from what is mostly an assumption on my part."
Hearts Boxcars:
He cocks an eyebrow and shrugs. While yes, he really did just carry that much on him usually, a plot of land like she was talking about had a lot of cash potential. Fuck a few grand, try a few million. Assuming you invested in a casino and plopped it right in the fucking Daud District.
Well, shit, didn’t even have to be a casino. Land was land, and it sure as hell held it’s value well.
“Hey, whateva floats yer boat. Let’s just say that money ain’t an object at tha moment, an it ain’t like you’re not riskin yer neck just bein here or nothin, right? But fine, howse 500 sound?”
That, and he was a dunkass and kind of preemptively backed handmaid’s conceptual horse on this one. Oops.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
She nodded and picked up her glass, draining it dry before setting it down on the table, asking the bartender for another. "That would work, thank you..." And then silence fell. It was a lucky break on her part, having moved to business completely derailed the topic of conversation pertaining to herself. She wondered how long that would last though, and thanked the bartender for her fresh drink.
Hearts Boxcars:
Lesse here now. One, two, three, four, five... five hundred dollar bills. Discreetly as all heck, he sets the cash onto the bar and slides it towards Kiki. Business, yeah. Keepin' it professional. P r o f e s s i o n a l. Or, as much as he could when it came to illegal activities and crime syndicates.
But to break the silence or not was the question. There wasn't exactly more pertaining to the land plot that he could ask about, the guy outside was probably dead, and by all means, their business was over for now. Yet something kept him in his seat.
Ordering a final drink, he turns to speak up once more.
"So uh, youse gonna bet takin off fer the night then?"
Hm. That sounded a little less awkward in his head.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Carefully taking the cash Kiki tucked it away into her coat pocket before glancing over to Boxcars. "Well... I wouldn't mind, at all really, staying until you finished your drink, or, are you trying to get rid of me?" She smiled a little with her teasing, tracing the rim of her glass once more before picking it up and taking a slow sip. She did actually enjoy Boxcars' company to be honest, he was different, in a good way, and she liked it. Not the same old gross Felt members day in and day out, his company was a nice change of pace.
Hearts Boxcars:
He momentarily gathers his thoughts by taking a few sips of his newly arrived drink.
"Hey now, I ain't against flappin gums an shootin tha shit with someone. Hell, maybe I oughta tell youse a lil bout what I did before tha Midnight City."
That and he kind of didn't want her to go juuuuust yet. Heck, he enjoyed her company too. Perhaps just a little more than he should have, but that was alright.
Right?
Right.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Her smile grew a tad as she picked up and downed her drink. "I think that sounds like a grand idea... After all, you know about what I was up to before moving here, I suppose it's only fair to share such information at this point. Perhaps though, we could, leave to somewhere a bit more comfortable? I make space out of the apartment above the Poppy. It isn't much, but it has a couch and I must admit a couch seems far more favorable to a bar stool at the moment."
Hearts Boxcars:
[o] Hearts: Assess the situation.
Alright, so.
Kiki's invited him up to her pad. Cool.
Kiki's relationship with The Felt is dubious and suspicious at best. Uncool.
Kiki shot a dude's fucking kneecaps off like 30 minutes ago. Cool.
Kiki also got you information and bought you drinks and shit. Cool.
Kiki may have also lied about everything tonight and possibly more. Uncool.
Weighing his options for a brief moment, Boxcars swallows the rest of his drink thickly and sets it back on the counter.
"Ya'know what? Sure, I've got nothin betta tah do at tha crack a dawn anyhow. Can't argue with couches bein betta than barstools though. Things'll be tha death a my lumbar, swear tah christ."
Saying all this as he slowly rises, yah dig.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
This time her smile grew enough to reach the backs of her eyes. She hadn't had company in a while, it would be a nice change. "Wonderful." She pulled out enough money to pay for that night's drinks and tip the bartender graciously before standing and slipping on her coat. "It is a bit of a walk, but I have some bourbon at home, warms you right up. I might even have some Johnnie Walker, if you're lucky." Heels clacking against the floor of the bar she started to the door, quite pleased with the events of the evening so far. "Shall we?"
Hearts Boxcars:
Her grin proves to be infectious, his own smile starting to take rise. Walkin' ain't no thing; hell, he walked the entire way here anyways.
Admittedly, he'd be smack dab in Felt Territory, but what those goons didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Right?
Subtly stretching his arms, Hearts responds.
"Please, yah had me at yer couch bein favorable tah these here barstools. Don't gotta sweeten the deal."
Making his way over to the door, he continues as he re-dons his trusty hat.
"Yeah, lets blow this joint. Startin tah give it a bad name anyways."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Still smiling Kiki headed out the door. She waited at the cross walk for Boxcars to catch up, and also for he light to change so they could cross. She seemed oddly concerned with street safety for someone who "shot a dude's fucking kneecaps off like 30 minutes ago." She had her reasons though.
Hearts Boxcars:
Quickening his pace, the mobster soon catches up to the other and walks in tandem with her. Yeah, cool. Crossing the street and having flagrant disregard for aforementioned kneecapless Mcgee, Hearts pipes up with a question.
"So, yah mighta already said this, but how long youse had this flower shop again?"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
When passing the dead shinless man, Kiki spat down on his corpse before continuing forward. "About oh... Five years now? I opened it up when I was twenty one," She informed, walking along like she didn't just spit on a corpse. It wasn't much longer before they reached the shop, Kiki reaching into her coat pocket to pull out the keys. Plucking up the correct one she opened the door and flicked on the lights. "We have to go in through the shop. The entrance to the apartment is in the back half." The
store itself was painted a bright burgundy on the inside, and smelled sweetly of all the fresh flowers inside. "I'd like to lock the door once we're both in, if that's alright with you. You should be able to open it from inside though, once you wish to leave."
Hearts Boxcars:
Christ almighty, Kiki had no chill. Nevertheless, Hearts listened to her as they walked, taking a few moments of mental calculation to realize that Kiki was 26. He wasn't exactly the best when it came to quick/simple calculations off the top of ones head. It was. Pretty sad come to think of it but nah, he pushed that from his mind now.
Gaining a semi-impressed expression, Boxcars responds.
"5 years, wow. Must be some kinda popular 'round here with alla tha young lovas an what have yah."
Shit, that reminded him. He wasn't done with that shitty romance book he bought from the corner store yesterday. Shit. How was Juliano gonna woo Haliet??????? Guess it'll be a mystery for now.
Hoo boy. Nodding and stepping into the flower shop, it's yet another mixed bag. Yeah, the smell was nice but the bright Burgundy was a bit... tacky. In his eyes at least. There's probably people tripping over themselves somewhere to paint their house like this or some shit.
"No, I understand. Be kinna hard tah explain if onna tha felt just walked on in or somethin."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"Oh, they shouldn't be coming around at this time of night... And if they did, I surely would be kicking their sorry asses right back out onto the street," she informed, locking the door once Boxcars had stepped inside. "There." With that done she started to the counter, which had a doorway behind it. The door was missing, but a large decorative cloth hung in it's place. She pushed the curtain away and revealed a small hallway with doors on either side of it.
Walking to the back of the hallway she turned in through another doorway and started up some stairs which lead to the apartment above. It didn't take her long to get to the top and unlock the door, stepping into and revealing the apartment. It was quaintly furnished, the walls a soft green color. She stepped into the living room, the kitchen connected on the side, left open with only a smooth marble counter top with bar stools around it separating the rooms. In the living room was a large cushy black couch on a plush off-white carpet.
Kiki wasted no time in pulling off her jacket and setting it on the kitchen counter before plopping down onto the couch and working on removing her shoes. A light relieved sigh was let out, setting the shoes off to the side before carefully starting to remove her stockings. "Feel free to take a seat, I just want to get these off before grabbing the drinks."
Hearts Boxcars:
Oh, hey. She was taking off her shoes.
Should.
Should he take off his shoes as well? But that would imply he was going to stay here for a bit. But was he? Fuck.
Nice stockings though.
Making a point to look elsewhere, Hearts removes his hat and shrugs off his signature trench-coat. A few moments of contemplation later, he folds that shit (shit being the overcoat) up and tucks it under his arm for the meantime.
Moseying on over to the couch, Hearts plops down onto that fucker (probably a bit closer to Kiki than necessary) and subsequently drops his coat (like it’s hot) next to himself.
“Hey, neva know with tha felt. Just sayin’ it ain’t too far outta tha realm a possibility.
But uh.
Yeah, take yer time.”
He had to hand it to her. This was a hells lot better than sitting his ass down on a barstool for 3+ hours at a time.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Once the stockings were slipped off and set aside Kiki wriggled her toes in the air, giving out a small relaxed sigh before standing up. "I can take those for you if you like, put them on the bar so you don't have to keep holding onto them," she offered, nodding to Boxcars' coat and hat. She didn't wait for an answer though, walking into the kitchen and opening up one of the top cupboards to reveal quite the wide liquor selection. She pulled out two bottles, one scotch and one southern comfort before opening another cabinet to take out a pair of glasses. She filled each glass, one with the so' co', one with the scotch, and returned to the couch, offering Hearts his glass. Taking a sip of her drink her eyes wandered back to the coat and hat, waiting for an answer.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts opens his mouth to answer, only to stall as Kiki ditches to go to the kitchen and grab some drinks. Not that he would really complain; despite the couple of drinks he had back in the pub, he still had a thirst to quench.
In the few short moments she had gone, he moved the coat and hat to his lap, tapping his fingers in nervous agitation. Hell, drink might even settle him a bit.
Though he had to wonder what drove him to this point; and not just to this apartment. What drove him to make a deal with such a shady character without even a simple background check? Simple trust in a stranger; a thought that has rebounded countless times in his head as he sat there, the short moments ticking away as she returned with the drinks.
Pushing the notions aside as he had done before, Hearts cracks a grin and accepted aforementioned drink, a bit quick to sip it before remembering the question she had asked.
“Oh uh, yeah sure thing. An again, thanks fer havin’ me ova."
Boxcars coughs, taking another sip before setting the glass down and forking over the hat and coat.
"Alla tha boys got their signature duds, ya'know. Makes it somethin' else when we all hit tha streets i'll tell yah."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Gathering up the hat and coat Kiki gave a soft smile, draping the coat over one arm and holding the hat with the corresponding hand. In her other hand she carried her glass of liquor, taking another sip before walking back to the bar in her kitchen and setting the clothes down. Once that was done she returned to the couch, plopping right down next to Hearts, closer than she had been sitting before. "How is your drink? I would hope you find it suitable. A friend of mine gave me that scotch, but I prefer my southern comfort, so I only serve it to guests. Specifically, guests I like. There have been far too many guests here who I haven't liked..." Her nose wrinkled up in distaste before it smoothed out and she sighed. "It cannot be helped... Until this shop is Felt free, I am sure to be getting many more unwanted guests in the future. Enough of that though, we came back here to talk about you yes?" She draped her free arm over the back of the couch, turning to face him more as she pulled her leg up to rest on the cushions. Giving a smile she took another sip from her glass, drumming her fingers on the back cushion idly as she waited for him to satisfy her curiosities.
Hearts Boxcars:
And there she goes with his clothes, Hearts eyes tracking her movements as she takes
care of the thing-a-ma-bobs; piping back up when she finally returns and addresses him.
Add the gentle snort and quick sip before the actual TALKING mayhaps.
“Well yer friends got one hellva taste in liquor lemme tell yah.”
Setting the glass down once more, Boxcars rubs his thumb along the wetted edge before retracting his hand and continuing with what he was saying.
“This the kinna stuff you’d have with like uh.. some sorta fancy dessert yah know? An not talkin bout that dessert wine yah see at restaurants or nothin, just somethin strong tah compliment the sweet, ya’know?”
Shit, he was dangerously close to spiraling. Alright, it’s chill. She doesn’t know that you don’t actually know dick about alcohol yet.
Okay good she changed the subject. To The Felt of all things, unsurprising. Pushing his cheek out with his tongue in thought, he responds.
“Only a matta a time, even less if yah keep yer end of tha deal we’ve got goin here..”
Hearts pauses to readjust himself on the couch, mirroring Kiki and putting his arm on the back of the couch.
“As fer myself? Jeez,” Cue his free hand running through his hair.
“Shit, whatta wanna know?”
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"Anything you're willing to tell I suppose... But let's start with... What you like? That sounds fair enough to me. What do you like, what do you enjoy when you're not acting for The Crew? What tickles your fancy?" She smiled, quite content with the question she came up with. It was a good place to start, and in all honesty? She was actually interested in what he had to say. A rare occurrence to be truthful, she cared little about most people, especially people she was fooling in some way shape or form.. This seemed to be an exception to the rule, she was genuinely starting to like the man sitting on her couch. Her friends were far and few, and though she was hiding a great truth from Hearts, she found no harm in building upon whatever it was that they were forming. Though she had done her research proper on him as The Handmaid, she would be lying to say that wasn't what made her want to meet him in the first place. She was glad she did, glad he agreed to come to her apartment, and glad she was getting the chance to learn first hand what Hearts Boxcars was really like.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts nods in earnest, getting an idea for what he wanted to tell Kiki. He usually wasn’t so open or accepting, hell, the fact she got him here tonight was beyond him. There was a line to be straddled, and he did so with the eloquence and poise of a goddamn ballerino. Yeah, ballerino. You know, the stupid name that they have for male ballerinas. Yeah, that.
Said line was straddled due to multiple reasons, most of which have already been stated, but the bottom line being that he’s an absolute fucking sap when it came down
to it. And of course, Kiki had cut through his layers of bullshit and guff and straight to his disgustingly gooey feely core. Sorta anyways. Like if it was a butter knife that somebody forgot to heat and there was gross butter residue everywhere. He was a multi-faceted guy, gooey and mushy just wasn’t his entire bag. He still felt himself reserved in some aspects due to his loyalties to the Midnight Crew and such. Not really something you drop so flagrantly.
Rubbing his chin idly with his free hand, he contemplates a few responses before answering.
“Ah crap, ain’t that a broad line a questionin..
Alright, so I got a few guilty pleasures, but who don’t amirite?”
He clears his throat before continuing, the arm over the side of the couch inching towards Handmaid’s.
“‘Course I ain’t ashamed none neither, but romance novels, hooooo boy. Cheaper tha betta, like tha crap yah find down at tha dime store. Same goes fer flicks come tah think ‘bout it.”
His arm shifts ever so slightly down the couch like ayyyy.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Romance? She raised a curious brow. Really now? Consider her interest piqued. She mulled this over in her brain for a bit, fingers still mindlessly drumming on the back of the couch before a smile tugged at her lips. "What are some of your favorites then? Movies, particularly." She brought her glass to her lips, staining it with more lipstick as
she took a slow sip, eyes trained on her guest. Of all the things to be interested in, Kiki would have to admit this wasn't one she had pegged him for. To be honest, she wasn't sure what she WOULD peg Hearts for, but certainly not trashy romance novels. As she waited for him to compile a list of his preferred romantic movies, she splayed the fingers of her free hand out on the couch cushion, the tips of which nearing Hearts' ever so slightly.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hell yeah, romance. He could go on for days about that crap, regardless of who he was talking to. Did that make him a hopeless romantic? No, not necessarily. Just a guy who was heavily entrenched in the concept of it.
Shit, favorite romance movies. Time to get cracking.
“Weeeeeeeell, can’t go wrong with tha classics. I’m talkin ’50 First Dates’, ‘Princess Bride' an ‘Titanic’. Course, if we’re gettin archaic, ‘Macbeth’ an ‘Hamlet’ fit tha bill nicely’.”
All the while, his calloused fingers finally reach the others digits, brushing up against Kiki’s hand in a pretty conspicuous manner; serious danger of completely overlapping.
He of course would play it off like it was nothing, probably only addressing it if she mentioned or complained. Shit, how would she react though is the question.
Shit, now he wanted to go on about trashy romance novels. Time and a place Hearts, time and a place.
He ended his small list by whetting his lips once again with the scotch. Yeah, that
should help settle the ol’ nerves.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
When their fingers touched her smile grew slightly, and she kept her hand still as if inviting him to reach further. "I didn't know '50 First Dates,' was a classic," she teased before taking another sip of her southern comfort. "I do not believe I've ever thought of 'Hamlet,' as a romance though. Perhaps some day you could teach me more about it, it is one of my favorite plays. I find it quite comedic." She brought her glass to her lips once more, slowly swallowing down the remainder of her drink before leaning over to set the now empty glass on the floor. Her other hand remained in place on the couch cushion, staying perfectly still, waiting to see just where Hearts' fingers would wander.
Hearts Boxcars:
She wasn't complaining, hell, she seemed into it! This was encouraging enough for him to bravely trail his finger a bit higher up her hand before coming down and tracing a small circle on the top of said hand. A bold move on his part. The real test.
"Alright yeah, basically everybody kicked tha bucket, but i'm still classifyin it as such." Hearts quipped.
"Though I'm surprised yah didn't comment on Macbeth; s'bout as loose to romantic as yah can get really."
His own glass now sat empty on the floor, his free hand resting comfortably on the couch.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
"Oh well, you know, what is more romantic than killing someone for the betterment of the person you love?" she jested, hand remaining still as she shifted in her seat, leaning in just a bit. She beamed at him, lifting her hand slightly to press it against his own as she continued to clear the small distance between them. The bold move on her part came next. She placed her lips against his own, gently, barely pressing her skin to his. The real test.
Hearts Boxcars:
What registered next in his head was a series of conflicted but overall pleasantly surprised signals. On one end, he was just about to ask what the hell she meant, but on the other, he somehow knew that this was coming. Be it the acceptance of the hand touching or the entire set up of this situation that just spelled out this inevitable kiss, it was happening. And he sure as hell was gonna rock the hell out of it.
The soft and tender kiss, while setting his heart aflutter, demanded reciprocation. (Like a goddamned blood tribute.) And who was he to deny? #Homes smell ya later.
Hearts pressed back into the kiss, eyelid's slipping down to half mast as he savored the softness of her lips, craving more of the affection. His hands (having since stopped being relevant up until this point), slide slowly up Kiki's hand and arm and pause on her shoulder.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Kiki's lips smiled against his own for a brief moment, her eyes closed as she felt him
press back against her. As his hand reached up to her shoulder, her own free one reached up to his neck, fingers ghosting over the skin before settling down. After letting the kiss last just a moment longer, she slowly pulled away, opening her eyes to look up into his. She smiled again, the fingers on Hearts' neck gently pressing in affectionately before relieving the tender pressure they had been applying. This was nice, better than nice, maybe even near perfect. She wasn't quite sure why she liked it all so much, but she did, and she was more than just content to let it keep on going, whatever it was.
Hearts Boxcars:
They don’t call him Hearts for nothing. While he wasn’t sure what ‘perfect’ was, he was pretty damn sure this was close. Then again, he was a sap that watched rom-coms and read trashy romance novels, so it wasn’t much surprise that his standards for kind of stuff was a bit different than compared to most.
As she pulled away from the kiss, Hearts let out a soft breath that he had been holding back (just like in his japanese animus) and locked gaze with Kiki’s. A tender moment for them both, both their respective guards down with their more filthy tender emotions out on display. Disgusting.
Should he say something? No, better idea.
Alright, his turn. Yeah, he had this down. For sure. The hand on her shoulder continued its expedition north and finally reached her cheek, cupping the HELL out of that thing. That is, before he leaned in again to press his lips lightly to hers again, eager to continue what had just ended.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Feeling his hand on her cheek Kiki closed her eyes once more, smiling as she felt the rough skin of his hand touch her own smooth flesh. A content breath was released before the feeling of Hearts' lips on hers again came to the forefront of her mind. She kissed back, the hand on his neck reaching over to splay out on the back of his shoulder, as if acting in some attempt to keep him in place, not wanting him to move away.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts has completely relaxed in the short while they had been kissing, finally breaking the connection to take a breath and reassess the situation.
Okay.
Okay that was. That was a thing that happened. Come on Hearts, you're a gangster. Fucking hard mobster that wouldn't think twice about tearing a guy's limbs off. And still, his expression remained soft. Time to break the silence.
"Gotta say.. that's a lot betta than killin' someone fer the betterment of anotha."
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
When the kiss was broken Kiki's lips curled upward softly, leaning forward again to rest her head on his shoulder with closed eyes. "I think you just might be right," she sighed out, words content as she slid the hand on his back around to slip down his arm and onto his own hand. "Incredibly right." She curled her fingers around his own, squeezing them lightly. The smile on her face did not waver, plastered there with upturned lips and small crinkles by her eyelids. She was happy.
Hearts Boxcars:
Hearts' heart was, ironically, aflutter. I mean, that's not how irony works but fuck you. Leaning his head against hers, his own simper obscenely large. Like damn son.
Christ, that entire event had just flown by him. Their lips touching; being one, if only for the briefest of moments.
A fleeting connection that only served to cement him on the line of uncertainty. His rational mind taking back control, his eyes snapped open as implications began to form. No, he could worry later. Pretending there wasn't a fire in the kitchen if just to make this moment last a bit longer.
Though there was the trouble of the time. Hearts had lost track since his time here, and it was undoubtedly some ungodly hour in the morning.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Another content sigh before she slowly pulled away. Time had escaped her as well, that was, until she glanced past Hearts to the clock on the wall behind him. "Oh my..." Quickly her mind perked up, cogs turning once more as she looked back to Hearts. She didn't want him to leave, not just yet... Maybe... Maybe if she just, casually... "Would you like to spend the night?" Ah yes, so casual, good job Kiki, wonderful job blurting that out there. Maybe her head wasn't as clear as she thought.
Hearts Boxcars:
Spend the night, shit. Unfortunately, his word filter was down for the time-being as well.
"Abso-fuckin-lutely."
Tch.
How gauche.
Not really registering what he had said for a few seconds, he tacks onto what he said. "..Wait, what time is it?"
Shit.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Her eyes flicked back to the clock. "2:47 in the a.m. so almost three." She looked back to him before carefully standing up. "I'll get some extra pillows... I have a king, so we can both use it. The couch is comfortable, but not the best for sleeping on. Terrible for one's back and neck I am afraid. I would know..." She flashed him a brief soft smile before bending down to gather up their empty glasses. "Let me put these in the sink first. The bedroom is through the door on the left, right there behind the couch."
Hearts Boxcars:
"Shit, 2:47?? Cripes, later than I thought.." He mumbles, absently rubbing at the back of his neck; still attempting to process all that's happened.
Wait, sleeping in the same bed with her. Holy shit.
"Wait, youse sure bout that? As in, completely hundred percent fine with sharin a bed?" Okay, that came out wrong.
"Not that I'm complainin none but,"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Carrying the glasses to the kitchen Kiki smiled again, though he couldn't see it. "Mr. Boxcars, I am an adult, and I am pretty damn sure I can handle sharing a bed with someone," she teased. After setting the cups in her sink she turned and walked back to the couch, picking up her shoes and stockings. "Though if you are really that concerned we could always create the ever baring pillow wall between ourselves, though personally, call me selfish if you will, I would much prefer if we did not have to resort to that."
Hearts Boxcars:
Boxcars just snorts at the idea and rubs his eyes. Ugh, the strain of the day really just hit him all at once.
"Alright, alright, yah gotta point there. Guess I'm just ovathinkin it or somethin."
Deep breath out, he finally stands after god knows how long. "So, i'll just follow yah tah yer bedroom then?"
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Nodding Kiki walked to the door she mentioned earlier. "This way." Opening it up she revealed a large bedroom, a door on the right wall leading into the apartment's only bathroom. There was a large dresser by that door, and an even larger bed pressed against the opposing wall. The bed was indeed a king, a large periwinkle comforter
covering it with only a few sparse plum colored pillows at the head. On the other side of the dresser was a pair of sliding doors that opened up into a closet. Inside the closet were the exact extra pillows Kiki had mentioned earlier, and setting her shoes in the bottom of the closet with the rest of her shoe collection, her stockings on top of the dresser, she reached up for the pillows. Each time she tugged one down she tossed it over to the bed, pulling out about five extra pillows all together, all wearing the same covers as the ones already on the bed. "There, now, you get comfy, I am going to change into some pyjamas." With that stated she pulled said jammies out and slipped away into the bathroom to change.
Hearts Boxcars:
So Hearts is pretty much the god damn epitome of ecstatic at this point. All internalized of course. Having already been standing, he follows Kiki’s lead into the bedroom and nods approvingly. Nice choice of colors there m8.
Okay, cool. Extra pillows alright nice. He was actually pretty damn tired, the fatigue having already begun the weary course of settling in his bones. Kicking off his shoes, he scoops those fuckers up and sets them at the edge of the bed neatly.
And now, the nightly ritual.
Well, it wasn’t really a ritual, more just him stripping down to his boxers and a shirt and falling face first onto the bed like ayyyyy.
Wriggling under the sheets and getting comfy, he mumbles something that sounds like a response to Kiki.
“Way ahead a yah, Kiki. Take yer time.”
Kiki was gonna look mad cute in those pj's wow.
The Handmaid #Mafiostuck:
Kiki did indeed look mad cute in those pjs, said pjs being a pair of blue flannel pants and a large plain white t-shirt. Walking back into the bedroom she headed to the door, turning off the lights before carefully making her way over to the bed. Noticing Hearts flopped down onto the bed she gave a smile before pulling the covers back on the opposing side and crawling in. Tugging the sheets and comforter up she rolled over onto her side, looking to Boxcars by the dim moonlight sneaking in through the windows. "Goodnight," she sighed out, closing her eyes with a satisfied smile. Things had turned out well that night, so very well indeed.