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Sonnet (with Lucy assistance)
Life's Hard Knocks
Fri Feb 17, 2006 11:15

[Wednesday Evening - After The Day's Shift.]

How the hell the two cops had ever managed to get to work on time at bloody five in the morning was beyond Sonnet, especially as she'd been up with Michael the evening before to go over his list of 'absolutely have to have' personal items, such as clothing and a toothbrush. The auburn-haired woman giggled as she climbed into a pair of linen pantaloons; the garment resembling not modern jeans so much as a pirate's trousers. Just call her Sinbad! She couldn't remember where they'd come from, more than likely one of Macy's basement sales, but the day wasn't too chilly so it was a good time to wear them. Devon had dropped her off at home before heading off to do something he refused to tell her about, leaving her a good hour and a half to get ready.

"And don't forget, princess, I'm partial to five hundred dollar suit-- is that what you're wearing?" Michael stepped into the curretly disheveled bedroom, eying his sister in the pirate pants and bra. "Yeah. It's the new style." She stuck her tongue out at him before turning around to eye the array of shirts in her closet. "Well, since the pants are black, why not go with a lighter color, like this one." He reached around her and gently tugged a snug white top from the lower rack and held it up against her chest. Sleeveless with a low neckline. "And ... you wear this over it," Michael snagged a black satin shirt from the top row, and shoved it into her arms as well. "Thank me later." Giving his sibling a swat on her butt, the resident asshole sauntered out.

Sonnet had to admit, the stark contrast of white and black was subtly striking with her hair, bringing out the red highlights. A giggle escaped, material went briefly flying ... and she was out the door not twenty minutes later, a little makeup carefully applied (this would be eyeliner and lipgloss), meeting Luciana in the front lobby of the apartment building. The original plan had been for Sonnet to borrow her father's car and get around that way, including picking Lucy up, but Ben had needed it so he and Hugh could scrape up some furniture on Michael's behalf. Which was cool, there was always the subway or taxis to get around.

"There you are."

Said woman's voice issued from behind a potted plant, the singer ensconced in one of the comfortable chairs scattered across the ground floor in front of the conceirge desk. Suddenly nervous at the flawless quality of that voice, reminding her that Devon's sister-in-law was a force to be reckoned with despite her relative youth. Fingers sliding around the strap of her purse, the cop twisted around the large plant and met her confidante for the evening.

"Arrr. Here I be."

Well. Perhaps the pants were possessed? Lucy gave a small grin, which did nothing for Sonnet's peace of mind, and rose to her feet, wearing a sensible pair of tennies (unlike a certain pair of 'combat' boots gracing tired feet), jeans and a sequined, long sleeve shirt. Wouldn't they make a pair.

"I've got Mike's measurements in my purse, he was very insistant that everything fit well," eyes rolled at this display of vanity from a sibling, something Lucy apparently could understand to judge by her accompanying snort. The Italian gestured towards the exit, expression lightening just a little. "Then we shall accomodate him?"

This .. this could turn out fun.

It did. Well, kind of. The first hour was spent getting down to the Village and frequenting some of the more bizarre stores that catered to the area's odd clientele. Many of the stores would deliver purchases for an extra fee, though, according to Lucy. What a handy bit of knowledge. Resolving to remember that fact the next time she went shopping like this, Sonnet easily blew over a thousand dollars of her own savings on 'must-haves' for Michael, knowing he'd eventually pay her back. Maybe.

Oh, well. That was the way of family.

By the time the sun began plunging below the impressive skyline, both women had decided to take a break and grab something to eat. After a quick inventory of places, they decided on a little seafood place near Battery Park, and spent an enjoyable half an hour stuffing themselves with clam chowder and fish sticks. Sure, it wasn't the most healthy choice for dinner, but it sure did taste good. Everything seemed going well. Too well.

The argument started just outside the diner.

"Sonnet ... I," It began so innocently enough. Lucy wanted to know what the cop saw in her brother-in-law, and for her part, Sonnet wanted to know why Devon's sister was being so nosy. It came out badly, moreso than either wanted. A flurry of words; mostly Lucy's as she related what had happened to her at the hands of Sonnet's current lover. Quite naturally, the cop wasn't sure what to believe, and began walking angrily down the street with Lucy right at her side, insisting that she hear everything.

"I don't know what to believe, Luciana! Devon is ... he's caring. He's ..."

She couldn't finish the sentance. Leaning against the side of a warehouse just a hop from the merchantile area, head swimming with the very idea of her partner acting in such a despicable way, and that was if she believed Lucy's story. Was it possible? Could the rumors have been true? Head swimming, she slid down into a half crouch and closed her eyes in an attempt not to vomit with the mere probability. She'd been on his side the whole time. Why should now be any different? Because Lucy spun a good tale?

Because there was a slight possibility there was some truth behind Devon's breakdown.

"I have to talk to him, Lucy. Before I can even try to sort this out."

His sister-in-law nodded, as if that was all she asked for, or expected. "Alright. Fair enough." A low breeze chose that moment to rustle down the wide alley, cutting through relatively thin pants. It was then Sonnet noticed how dark it was becoming. "Come on, let's head towards Broadway. I know there are a couple of stores that sell cast-off costumes from shows. Aside from the work shirts and pants, and the casual outfits, he'll want something to out clubbing in." That's what little sisters were for - to know their brother's dress preferences like the back of their own hands.

"Or ..." issued a stranger's voice from the deepening gloom on the pier west of their location, " You could have a jolly time with us." Sonnet's head jerked up, shop-fatigue gone in seconds to be replaced by apprehension. 'Us' turned out to be a collection of unsavory types, of lower class than the workers that usually frequented the area. When had they crossed over the West Side Highway? Even as she rose slowly, the cop's brain was working overtime. Neither she or Lucy had possession of a gun, or other weapon. Of the two women, she was the better trained in self-defense.

"Lucy ...." She reached out, gently tugging the young woman behind her and began backing up towards the areas more densely populated. There was hope born always in a crowd of people. "Run, don't stop. Call ... Devon with this," Without looking, Sonnet slid her cell phone out and handed it over, still trying to keep herself between the civilian and the hyenas. Only two of them-- a third stepped out at the very edge of the alley, trying to flank them out. Fukk. "Run now!" With an almost cruel twist of bone and flesh, she shoved Lucy past the other man, not bothering to watch the girl actually do what she was ordered to.

"Look, Joey. Go get the other bird. This one has such pretty hair."

That spurred Sonnet on to make an escape, twisting around to follow in Lucy's fast retreating footsteps. But time ran out, signalling the lady with the pretty hair out as tonight's victim. There were others all over the city, as every night in New York, Sonnet had answered enough of those calls to know what happened in the time before help arrived. So when one came at her with a piece of piping, she ducked underneath it and sent a knee straight into his groin. So much for the flanker; he toppled to his knees with a shriek.

One down. Two would follow.

Joey abandoned his trajectory on Lucy's trail, circling around at the first sign of distress to aid his cohorts in crime. The cop gave up trying to fight as taught in self- defense class, and turned to a dirtier style. Rocks, fists, knees, teeth - everything on or near her person found itself utilized as a weapon and brought to bear against her assailants with every ounce of strength in her body. Unfortunately, said body still had not completely mended from being shot some weeks before - the third thug got in a good shot to her injured shoulder, which ended the flurry of activity for a few precious seconds as Sonnet fought through a brief flare of pain.

Couldn't get distracted. To do so would invite the eventual discovery of her body at the bottom of the Hudson River. Eyes blinked rapidly, trying to divest themselves of sweat, fear trying to crawl down her throat and paralyze still moving limbs. But one female weighing in under one hundred and fifty pounds was, in the end, no match for a trio ... no, duo of former jail inmates (their flanker was still on the ground in pain). They sandwhiched her between them, a series of blows reigning down about her head and shoulders, though only one really good punch managed to strike her face and decorate one side.

She never gave up, not even when they manhandled her down to the pavement, tiny shards of broken glass and pebbles digging into her back. Rough hands tore at her clothing, tearing open both shirts with a bit of struggle. "Teach this little bitch a lesson, Joey." That serve to renew her struggles, a leg lashing out to meet Joey's stomach. That earned her another fist to the face, decorating the opposing cheek with red bruising. Two sets of eyes roamed across her bare chest, before the hands reached down and began clawing at her pants - the material resisted as much as it could, but eventually began tearing down the sides.

Oh god. She was ... she was ... Sonnet began hyperventiliating then, the panic able to rush up and overwhelm logical thought processes. "Help!", she screamed, knowing there was little chance of being rescued now. Limbs still struck out at anything not originally attached to her own frame, but fear was slowly corroding her reactions, and it was only a matter of time before she became a statistic.

I hope Lucy got away ...

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    • Life's Hard Knocks — Sonnet (with Lucy assistance), Fri Feb 17 11:15
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        • An InterludeHolmes | Castelluccio, Fri Feb 17 18:41
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              • Moments of SilenceDevon | Vittorio, Sat Feb 18 21:41
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                  • Answers.Vittorio Castelluccio, Mon Feb 20 17:24
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