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Post by aimee on Nov 25, 2009 5:00:31 GMT
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It was nearly half past one in the morning. Aimee stifled a yawn, brushing long bangs out of her eyes and clipping it back with rhinestone star barrettes. Her tote bag dangled from her arm, acting as her purse as it had been the first thing she had grabbed from the depths of her closet. She was at a gas station, somewhere between Los Angeles and San Francisco, filling up on fuel for her Corvette C6, the silver beauty at pump station 3 outside, as well as getting some snacks to keep her awake for the drive back home. She had driven the whole three hundred and eighty something miles from San Francisco to Los Angeles alone, answering a request for help passed along her older brother's network of acquaintances and informants. In Los Angeles, Aimee had gotten rid of a group of demons; they weren't too much trouble, just a little vexing in their numbers. She hadn't received any leads on the demon she was looking for, and after at least three showers at a motel to get all the blood out of her hair, was headed back home to Pacific Heights.
The young girl walked past the spirits and beers in the refrigerator, throwing a coveting glance at an older man purchasing a six pack. Just two more years, she thought to herself. Her boots, despite being the type of heels that made loud clicks, barely made any noise against the cool tile of the gas station mart. Aimee had a natural talent for stealth; rarely did her footsteps make any audible sounds. She strolled past the doors, her long legs and milky complexion reflected in the glass, making her way to the ice cream freezer, very much contemplating the idea of getting one and wondering which flavor to select. She decided to circle around the store again and then come back to the freezer.
There was a counter for coffee and hot chocolate, but this didn't appeal much to Aimee. She liked drinking cold things more, and the thought of hot cappuccino made her feel drowsy. Maybe a sandwich then, she thought as she gazed at the refrigerated goods. There were salads, with vegetables or fruits, but she wanted something she could eat easily while driving. Nothing that required a fork. Or was too messy, she thought, eying some rather large burritos. Her eyes flickered over to the wide selection of chips and candy bars the next aisle over. A Butterfingers sounded like a pretty good idea right now.
She surveyed all the items twice more, and finally took her selections to the front counter, where the sleepy cashier started to ring them all up. Aimee had gone with a large strawberry flavored slushie from the machine by the fountain drink dispenser in the corner of the store, a Havarti cheese and turkey sandwich with grilled onions and bacon, a small bag of sour cream and onion chips, a bag of cheese puffs, a bag of Nutter Butter cookies, and a cookies and cream chocolate bar. She pulled her wallet out of her tote bag, picking out a credit card to pay. "Thanks," Aimee said when the cashier returned all her items in a plastic bag. Her hand had just touched the glass of the door to leave when she suddenly gasped. "Ice cream..." she muttered to herself, turning around and heading towards the freezer.
As she did so, she heard the door of the store open, and suddenly there were loud shouts of profanity coming from the front counter. Aimee turned to see two men at the counter, ski masks over their faces and guns in their hands pointed at the poor cashier, who was trembling with his hands held high in the air. Aimee quickly ducked behind the freezer in a graceful, fluid motion, in a position that still allowed her a view of what was happening. She could help the cashier out; she was very capable of this, possessing some helpful skills. But how to do it in such a way that she seemed an ordinary human girl? Rushing out now would be reckless. Even if she was a witch, if she was shot in a vital area, she would die.
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Post by Lawrence on Nov 25, 2009 7:13:15 GMT
Lawrence had been getting some good old fashioned good at the corner store while his truck was being filled with gasoline. He needed a refill of chips, beer and... Well that was about it really. He sometimes bought a sandwich but he had been going to so many damned coffee shops in this place that he was more than sick and tired of sandwiches by now.
He was waiting behind some asian girl that was getting way too much sugar. That would explain all their crazy Tv Shows, the amount of sugar they consumed was off the charts. It would keep him up for a week. And yet the girl was as thin as a stick, hell many other girls would kill for that he figured, thankfully for him beer, chips and a lot of exercise was more than enough to keep him in shape.
When the girl was finally done, he put his items there and then was able to see a couple of guys with masks in the parking lot from behind the counter lot. Great, what he just needed, not only did he had to end supernatural evil on a daily basis, now regular evil was here to try to kick his ass.
Well not tonight they wouldn't. He was armed to the bones, knifes, guns, stakes, you name it. If two random goons were trying to mess around they had another one coming. He moved fast to the last ile before the thieves entered the store and did a quick search for all his guns, he had the store mirror on sight and could see the criminals perfectly, all he needed was an opportunity to attack and they would all be done for.
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Post by aimee on Nov 26, 2009 3:41:14 GMT
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Aimee drew her legs closer to her chest, back straight against the freezer. Breath quietly exhaled and inhaled as she watched one of the robbers pressed his gun up to the cashier's temple and direct him to stow the cash register's contents into the sack he now threw at him. He made a sort of gesture, a sweeping with his arm to his partner, and Aimee guessed he was telling him to check the rest of the store, as the second figure stepped closer towards him.
Aimee guessed she didn't have much time before she would be discovered. She placed her palm flat on the tiled floor, and within a quarter of a second, the edges of her hand were dotted with little crystals of jagged ice. A transparent trail of ice snaked its way from her hand towards the front counter like a silent stalker, unnoticed by either of the two men. Before it reached the second male, the ice stretched into a wide patch. The man held his gun up, keeping up a guard, his eyes darting nervously to the left and right. He didn't see the ice on the floor, and when he stepped onto it, it had the same effect as one stepping onto an ice skating rink with tennis shoes on. He slipped, almost comically, his legs sliding rapidly trying to gain balance, but he ended up falling hard on his back. His gun dropped onto the floor with a loud clatter. It was a bit pathetic, but fortunate for Aimee that he fell so heavily his head hit the tiled floor and he was knocked out.
With this, Aimee rushed out from behind the ice cream freezer. She uncapped her slushie cup and rushed towards the male holding the cashier at gunpoint, who had been distracted by his partner's fall. He was surprised to see Aimee running towards him and his fingers fumbled around trying to aim his gun at her. Aimee kicked the fallen gun hard with the tip of her boot, the weapon spinning away towards the last aisle of the store. She then threw the cup with a wide, exaggerated motion, splashing the slushie all over the first man's face. He gasped at the cold and his fingers scrambled to scrape slushie out of his eyes. Before he could regain his vision, Aimee executed a spinning kick, her left heel connecting with the man's jaw and her right foot slamming heavily into his neck. He coughed, body bent over in pain and hands grabbing his neck. Aimee's leg shot up, a perfect one hundred and eighty degrees straight up into his hand, knocking the gun out and up into the air. Aimee snatched it up, twirling it about her finger and holding it to the robber's temple.
"Hey," Aimee called to the cashier. "Call the po-" she stopped. The cashier seemed to have fainted. Understandable, Aimee supposed, as the situation had been quite stressful, but horrible timing. "Hey man, you need to wake the fuck up now," she said, and sighed when he didn't stir at all. Aimee grabbed the robber's shirt collar, yanking to make him raise his hands into the air. She surveyed her surroundings. One man held at gunpoint by her, the second unconscious on the ground.
There was a click of a gun cocking, and something cold touched Aimee's neck. "Get your hands off my friend, bitch," a male voice commanded her, and Aimee breathed out sharply. Fuck. They had a third person. Perfect. What was she to do now?
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Post by Lawrence on Nov 26, 2009 5:11:46 GMT
Watching the scene unfold on the store's round mirror, it all seemed out of a scene of a Korean movie. He had been waiting the right moment to strike when this crazy ass girl somehow managed to knock out one and steal the other one's gun. He moved to the end of the aisle and looked from there, there was a path of ice. Ice that seemed coming from nowhere, the bad guys obviously didn't made each other trip so since him and the crazy girl were the only other people apart from the cashier that was too busy shitting his pants, he imagined it was her doing.
Perfect, just when you think you are having a regular shop theft, the supernatural comes out and bites you in the ass. Even though possibly evil and dangerous, the girl did try and stop the robbery, so before interrogating her he had to stop them from killing her.
Which being could create ice though? Sasquatch lived in the ice. But she didn't look like a Sasquatch, she lacked... body hair. He didn't even know if there was a Sasquatch to tell the truth. Though this could be like the immortal lady with the telekinetic mumbo jumbo. Or a witch... God he hoped she wasn't a witch, though immortal lady did teach him a ritual to trap them. Witches though... Black magic, hex bags, possibly demonic given super powers... He had the disadvantage, however worry about the robbers first and the witch/karate freak girl later.
She was examining the cashier and then was threatening the conscious robber when Law saw someone coming from behind her and put a gun to her head. It was now or never. Taking his S&W out of his pocket, he watched the mirror and when he heard the click he came from behind the Aisle and put a bullet in the third thief's head.
"Oh yeah, or what are ya gonna do? Your brains are scattered 'round the floor" said Lawrence as he saw the robber go down. He was apparently getting used to killing, here he had one man dead in front of him and he didn't care. It was a human just like him, nothing freaky about him, except that he was a complete jerk of course, but still, just a human.
He went behind the counter and grabbed some dutch tape. The strong brown one. "Hey kid, tie their hands while I wake up the clerk that shit his pants"
He took some water and threw it to his face. "Hey, Snow white, your store almost got stolen... Wake up" he said as he threw the bottle at him. "Oh and there are some brains on the floor, ya might want to clean them up..."
He then waited for the girl to end up tying the robbers, they needed to have a chat. If she was a witch, she must have a covenant, which meant more witches to hunt. Great, just what he needed. He sighed out loud as he opened a beer and started drinking.
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Post by aimee on Nov 26, 2009 18:41:22 GMT
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Aimee gasped as she heard a gunshot, at first thinking it came from the man behind her, but two seconds later, feeling that she was still very much alive, she turned and saw that the man behind her was on the floor, the tiles and glass doors behind him splattered messily with his blood and brains and whatever else was in his head that was now outside. Aimee turned back around, seeing a man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties with a gun, mocking the dead robber.
Aimee's hand touched the back of her head, wondering if any of the blood and nasty gunk had gotten in her hair. It wasn't like she was squeamish about these kinds of things; she had seen people die several times. It was something she had grown used to, and as long as she didn't think too far into the situation, she didn't feel any remorse for the death she had just witnessed. But still, killing people was a bit different from killing a demon or something like that. There were laws and things. Police would ask questions and stuff. Aimee's other hand still held onto the collar of the male in front of her. She watched as her rescuer hopped behind the counter and threw some tape to her, telling her to tie up their hands. He called her kid, and though Aimee was already nineteen, she wasn't about to argue about such a minor thing. She was probably just a kid to him, and she had been told that she looked younger than her actual age by some people.
Aimee stretched out the tape, wrapping the length of it several times around the robber's two hands, which she had forced together behind his back. Meanwhile, the man was waking the cashier, who was starting to stir. Aimee finished taping up the robber's hands. She circled around to his front, snatching off his ski mask to reveal a bruised face. He was about a head taller than her, and looked like he couldn't have been older than twenty. It was sad, to ruin your life so early with something like this.
Aimee surveyed the mess around the store. Splatters of blood, strawberry slushie scattered about, and the ice that she had made earlier was now a cold puddle on the tiles. Aimee looked to the man, who was opening a beer. "Thanks for saving me," she said. She wondered if they hadn't better get out of here before the police came. He had just killed someone, so it seemed like a wise idea.
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Post by Lawrence on Nov 26, 2009 20:22:18 GMT
"No problem kid, just don' make me regret it" said Lawrence as he walked to the awakening and very traumatized clerk. Lawrence grabbed his S&W, he loved that gun but apparently he had to give it up today, such a shame, he'd have to buy a new one some time soon.
"Hear me out 'cause I'm only saying this once" said Lawrence to the clerk as he put the gun in his hand. "When the police comes, ya tell them that ya killed the robber after the other two were surprised that the other one fell on the wet floor, and then kicked the other one's gun away just in time and tied them up"
"I just saved your life 'n your store, don' make me regret it alright... And if they ask about a tape, ya didn't have one, even if ya do, understand me?" said Lawrence directly to him. "Imma need ya to answer to me cupcakes"
The still shaking clerk nodded the best he could. "Good..." said Lawrence before turning to the girl. "Ya... Let's get out of here before the police arrives, we have somethin' to talk about ya and me..."
Thankfully, after his little chat with the old chick, he had learned a bit more about witches and his car had enough hoodoo hex bags to protect the white house. He wasn't about to let her witchcraft kill him, even if he wasn't sure she was a witch, but it all made sense.
"Get in the car" said Lawrence to the girl as he opened up his truck.
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Post by aimee on Nov 27, 2009 3:41:10 GMT
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Again with the kid. "Sure thing," Aimee responded, her hand pushing back hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, the pink heart charms on her Vivienne Westwood bracelet dangling. She listened as the man lectured the cashier on what to do. Aimee wanted to protest against letting the poor cashier take the blame, but then again, she didn't want to take the fall either. Still, even if it could be called justifiable homicide, someone had still died. Aimee hoped that the cashier wouldn't have any sentence imposed on him, and that the authorities would just pass off the killing as self defense.
Aimee waved good bye to the trembling clerk, an encouraging smile on her face before she followed the older man out of the store. She wondered what it was that he wanted to talk to her about. He led her to what she presumed was his truck, and told her to get in. "Uhh, are we going somewhere?" Aimee asked, an eyebrow raised and her arms folded across her chest. She looked over to the pump where she had left her Corvette. She was grateful that he helped her, and she would talk to him if he wanted, but she was very unwilling to just leave her fifty thousand dollar car there, especially when the police were coming and could search her car and find out she was the owner, and then possibly look at the purchases made during the night at the store and find that Aimee had also been in the store just seconds before the robbery began. Maybe she was being paranoid. But still, she didn't want to leave her beloved car. She had gotten it for her seventeenth birthday from her older brother and had taken very good care of it. "If we are, I could just follow you. I swear I won't drive off. I'll give you something of mine as collateral if you want." In any case, getting in the car with some stranger who didn't even bat an eye at killing someone, even if it was to help her, didn't seem like a good idea.
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Post by Lawrence on Nov 29, 2009 1:17:35 GMT
"Yeah we are goin' somewhere" said Lawrence to the girl. He turned to look at her car, hell yes she was a witch, no other way she had a Corvette as a teenager than magic. Or having your dad be a millionaire. That was dark magic there. He didn't trust this girl nearly enough to let her drive her own car, for all he knew she could kill him from her car.
"Hand out the grimoire then" said Lawrence to the girl. If he was getting something as a guarantee, he better get something that she wouldn't risk losing and he couldn't think of anything better to take from a witch than a grimoire.
"The clues were there at the store" said Law. "Now... I haven' met a witch before, but I know ya don' go anywhere without your little spell book, so I'd like that in order to make sure ya follow me if ya don' mind"
He didn't know how she was going to answer, but far far away the faint sound of a syren could be heard and Lawrence knew that they possibly didn't have much time before the police arrived at the scene.
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Post by aimee on Nov 29, 2009 17:56:43 GMT
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Aimee blinked. "Grimoire?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. The mention of the word made her nervous. This guy knew something. He went on about clues in the store and how he hadn't really met a witch before, but knew they didn't go around without their grimoire. The young woman touched her hand to her cheek in thought. She had been contemplating persuading this man that he was very wrong and she had no idea what he was talking about; after all, the ice that she had made that the robber had slipped on, and the athletic display were technically all from her human side. Aimee was really half witch, her father human and her mother a witch, but her father had been a sort of special human, possessing supernatural strength, speed, and stamina. It was from him that Aimee inherited her ability to manipulate ice. But being pressed for time, and apprehensive of what other guns he had on his person, she decided against denying her identity.
"I don't have one," she said with a shrug. "At least not here with me." She had a collection of magic books in her room that she had always brought with her during every move around the states since she had moved here from France after her mother's death. There were books with lists of spells and charms and directions, as well as ones with potions and ingredients, and even one full of dark rituals that Aimee kept more for just having it in her collections rather than using it. When she was younger, Aimee had heard from the matriarch of her coven that there were some witches that needed to carry around a grimoire to cast spells and such, but Aimee's coven transcended this limit with the tattoo they engraved on the backs of babies born into the coven. Aimee had this tattoo; a dark blue design of a circles and pentagrams and symbols spanning almost her whole back, a deep contrast against her smooth, milky white skin. And she couldn’t give this man her tattoo.
“I was actually thinking more like, something I would need to get back from you. Like, the key to my apartment, or my student ID,” Aimee went on, feeling that this evening was approaching the undesirable. She hadn’t anything but her body for protection. Aimee was, for the most part, a law abiding citizen. California state law dictated that only those 21 and over could get a gun permit, and Aimee was two years too young.
In the distance, the sirens were gradually getting louder and Aimee’s eyes flickered to her Corvette. Once she gave him an item of his liking, she could run over there and start the car and get the hell out of here.
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Post by Lawrence on Dec 1, 2009 19:54:44 GMT
"Alright" said Lawrence not trusting the witch. She was a Supernatural being and if it weren't for her helping other people in there, she would have shot her already in the head.
He grabbed her purse and dig inside until he found her car keys. "There's a nice quite place, if ya take the highway and take the first exit. I'll meet ya there in 10 minutes..." said Lawrence feeling shitty for letting her go. He threw her the car keys and kept the rest of the bag. Taking his keys and running to his Truck as he could see the police car lights about three blocks away.
Then he turned on his truck and left the place quietly as to not raise any suspicions, driving and watching the cop cars pass him. Him saying hi in a polite southern manner as they passed. And keeping driving to the place that he told the Witch about.
Perfect now she had time to prepare some black magic and him, just freaking great. He should have shot her there and put a ski mask on her. Just unfreaking believable. At least he had the way to trap her, that ancient chick had told him about it, and he had the ritual drawn in one of the many rugs that he kept on his truck. Of course a rug on the grass would be pretty lame, not even someone retarded would fall for that, so for now, he had to wait.
He started eyeing the contents of the purse while the Witch arrived, memorizing where she lived in case she was evil and escaped without managing to kill him in the process. Yeah, he just loved this job...
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Post by aimee on Dec 27, 2009 23:52:17 GMT
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The man snatched away Aimee's bag, giving her directions to a location and then tossing her keys to her. Aimee caught them in one hand deftly, watching the man run to his own car with her purse. Aimee was about to protest that her driver's license was still in her bag, but she reasoned that as long as she drove carefully enough, there wouldn't be any reason for police to pull her over. Aimee dashed to her own car, the shiny silver vehicle still waiting for her at the gas pump. She pressed the remote button for her car and it unlocked, and she slid in quickly, starting the car with another touch of a button and driving out of the gas station just as police cars passed her by.
Aimee drove on the feeder road, signaled a turn onto the highway, and when she spotted the first exit, she took it, easing off the gas to make the transition from the highway's speed limit to the moderate speed limit of the road before her. It was oddly quiet in her car, the radio silent. Aimee always turned down her music when finding some place, and given the current situation, she certainly wasn't in any mood to be finding some tune to jam to. She wasn't sure what was the place he was describing; he hadn't said if it was a diner or motel or whatever. But her careful eyes scanned her surroundings, and she spotted his truck.
Aimee turned in, pulling up next to the man's truck, pondering her next course of action. Perhaps it was not wise to make such an offer to some stranger. Thoughts of battery, assault, rape, and torture flooded her mind as she turned off the engine of her sleek Corvette and stepped out of her car cautiously. The nineteen year old pushed the front door closed and leaned back against the frame of the car, waiting for the older man to speak.
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