Introduction to the House
Deep in the heart of the Old Market district and on a narrow cobbled-street with two-story brick buildings built side-by-side lay the home of the newly minted House of Retribution. It was situated inconspicuously between a charm vendor and a popular massage therapist. Outside hung a newly painted sign announcing the business’s name in an Old English script.
The lower level was taken up mainly by a waiting room with a receptionist’s desk positioned facing the glass front of the building. A demure woman in her thirties sat behind it, adjusting her spectacles and shuffling through constant paperwork. Behind her desk lay the door to the immaculate office of the owner of the company – Charlie Jericho. The office was immaculate more due to the fact that the owner spent next to no time in it rather than due to the fact that the receptionist kept it clean for her. Charlie was much more likely to be found sprawled out on a couch in the waiting room with a pencil in hand, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.
The three offices upstairs were used almost as infrequently as the one downstairs. These were saved for the three private investigators under the permanent employment of the House. However, as their titles suggest, they spent most of their time in the field and only returned to pound away on a typewriter with detailed reports of their findings.
Despite all the appearances of a functioning business, the receptionist was under strict orders not to accept new business. This was not a commercial venture. Instead, the small organization had been started purely out of the owner’s own pocket. Unbeknownst to most her fans, the vast majority of her salary was being filtered into the project.
It had become the purpose of her life. She created list upon list of those she had harmed in her previous life and exactly how she had harmed each – from a priest she had seduced away from the cloth due to his rising political powers that threatened Nausikaa interests to the men she had killed merely because she had been ordered to do so. The lists were then taken by the private investigators who put together intensive reports on the subject or the subject’s family.
From there, it was up to Ms. Jericho, with the help of the stern receptionist, to decide how she would provide her restitution to those she had injured. Sometimes an anonymous check was sent under false pretenses and other times practical gifts would suddenly appear at the home without cause. However, the cases that the owner preferred were when she had the opportunity to directly interact with the subjects.
As time passed and the number of victims that Ms Jericho was able to cross off her list increased, she began to sleep with more ease at night. Her conscious eased and the thought of dying again was no longer a horrifying threat. Finally, she began to see that she might have a chance to rest at peace now that she had truly repented her sins.
House of Retribution
Moderator: G
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #29: Eugene "The Bear" Brand
Crime: Murder
Part I - The House of Retribution, Old Market District. Present day.
A blustery cold Thursday morning found the House quite similar to how it always could be found. The receptionist, Eleanor Spade, appeared somber behind the front desk, thumbing through reports from the investigators. Charlie Jericho was lounging on the couch in the waiting area, absently flicking a switchblade open and closed.
“Do the names Eugene and Cecilia Brand mean anything to you?”Eleanor asked her employer, anxious to bring the regular pinging noise to at least a brief end.
Her distraction technique worked. Charlie lifted her head from the arm of the couch, propping herself up on an elbow to look fully at Eleanor. “Eugene and Cecilia? Nope.”
Eleanor frowned and consulted the file folder full of information on the Brands that lay on her desk against the names on one of Charlie’s scribbled lists. “It appears you may have known Eugene as ‘Bear Brand’. Your notes and the investigator’s findings line up. He was forty-six when he was found stabbed to death in a hotel room seven years ago. His wife had never been the most mentally sound woman but it appears this sent her over the edge. She’s spent the last seven years in a mental ward.”
Charlie pushed herself up into a sitting position as the memory flooded back to her. She remembered the beautiful blonde who was often on the Bear’s arm at parties but never there when he frequented Talsiny City’s many brothels. The image of the dead naked man laying on his stomach beside the bed caused her features to scrunch in heavy guilt.
“I do remember them,” Charlie replied simply.
Eleanor raised both brows at the young woman. If Charlie had been twenty-two when she had died three years prior, it would have put her a mere teenager when the murder occurred. Sadly enough, from the records it appeared that it was far from Charlie’s first such mission for Nausikaa. She wasn’t sure if she felt sympathy or disgust directed towards the young woman.
“They had a son,” Charlie added, breaking Eleanor’s line of thought. “He was a cute little thing of about six or seven.”
Eleanor’s gaze shifted downward at the paperwork in front of her. “Samuel Brand. His friends call him Sam. He lives with his elderly grandfather. They left Talsiny. It appears they’re living in a small town a couple of hours south of here.”
“What does it say about him?” Charlie asked leaning forward anxiously.
“It looks like the investigator followed him for a couple of days. Sam’s shy and reserved but seems to be a good kid – gets good grades, helps his grandfather out around the house. He’s a pretty good little martial artist. He’s taking classes at the local dojo.”
Charlie sighed heavily, a hand reaching up to rub her forehead. “Anything I can use?”
“Aww,” Eleanor said softly, her gaze never lifting from the file and never seeming to hear Charlie’s question. “It appears he has a crush on a girl. There’s a school dance coming up but he hasn’t asked her yet.”
“I don’t deal in young love,” Charlie snorted.
Eleanor pushed her glasses up the ridge of her nose to level her gaze on Charlie. “Seems to me that if you truly want to, in some small way, make up for the loss of his parents, you will bear it.”
She huffed in return, crossing her arms in front of her chest and leaning back against the couch as she attempted to resign herself to the fate of being the confidant of a fourteen year old boy.
Crime: Murder
Part I - The House of Retribution, Old Market District. Present day.
A blustery cold Thursday morning found the House quite similar to how it always could be found. The receptionist, Eleanor Spade, appeared somber behind the front desk, thumbing through reports from the investigators. Charlie Jericho was lounging on the couch in the waiting area, absently flicking a switchblade open and closed.
“Do the names Eugene and Cecilia Brand mean anything to you?”Eleanor asked her employer, anxious to bring the regular pinging noise to at least a brief end.
Her distraction technique worked. Charlie lifted her head from the arm of the couch, propping herself up on an elbow to look fully at Eleanor. “Eugene and Cecilia? Nope.”
Eleanor frowned and consulted the file folder full of information on the Brands that lay on her desk against the names on one of Charlie’s scribbled lists. “It appears you may have known Eugene as ‘Bear Brand’. Your notes and the investigator’s findings line up. He was forty-six when he was found stabbed to death in a hotel room seven years ago. His wife had never been the most mentally sound woman but it appears this sent her over the edge. She’s spent the last seven years in a mental ward.”
Charlie pushed herself up into a sitting position as the memory flooded back to her. She remembered the beautiful blonde who was often on the Bear’s arm at parties but never there when he frequented Talsiny City’s many brothels. The image of the dead naked man laying on his stomach beside the bed caused her features to scrunch in heavy guilt.
“I do remember them,” Charlie replied simply.
Eleanor raised both brows at the young woman. If Charlie had been twenty-two when she had died three years prior, it would have put her a mere teenager when the murder occurred. Sadly enough, from the records it appeared that it was far from Charlie’s first such mission for Nausikaa. She wasn’t sure if she felt sympathy or disgust directed towards the young woman.
“They had a son,” Charlie added, breaking Eleanor’s line of thought. “He was a cute little thing of about six or seven.”
Eleanor’s gaze shifted downward at the paperwork in front of her. “Samuel Brand. His friends call him Sam. He lives with his elderly grandfather. They left Talsiny. It appears they’re living in a small town a couple of hours south of here.”
“What does it say about him?” Charlie asked leaning forward anxiously.
“It looks like the investigator followed him for a couple of days. Sam’s shy and reserved but seems to be a good kid – gets good grades, helps his grandfather out around the house. He’s a pretty good little martial artist. He’s taking classes at the local dojo.”
Charlie sighed heavily, a hand reaching up to rub her forehead. “Anything I can use?”
“Aww,” Eleanor said softly, her gaze never lifting from the file and never seeming to hear Charlie’s question. “It appears he has a crush on a girl. There’s a school dance coming up but he hasn’t asked her yet.”
“I don’t deal in young love,” Charlie snorted.
Eleanor pushed her glasses up the ridge of her nose to level her gaze on Charlie. “Seems to me that if you truly want to, in some small way, make up for the loss of his parents, you will bear it.”
She huffed in return, crossing her arms in front of her chest and leaning back against the couch as she attempted to resign herself to the fate of being the confidant of a fourteen year old boy.
Last edited by Charlie Nausikaa on Thu Jan 12, 2006 9:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #29: Eugene "The Bear" Brand
Crime: Murder
Part II - Nausikaa International Headquarters. Talsiny City, Talsiny. 7 years ago.
Charlie flicked open her switch blade and then shoved it closed with rhythmic regularity and little concern for the annoyance of those around her. Her muddy black boots were propped up on the large oval table and she leaned back in her chair without the slightest concern for the stares she was getting.
However, the men in finely tailored surrounding the table weren’t annoyed by her antics but frightened by the mere presence of the eighteen year old girl. They shifted nervously in their chairs, adjusting their ties or tapping their pens against the table as they waited for their employers to make an appearance. None of them knew the purpose of Charlie Nausikaa’s latest visit but they were all in a great deal of anxiety to find out what, or who, her next target would be.
The door suddenly swung open and in walked Arane Nausikaa followed by her business partner, Edwin. Then men quickly found their way to their feet in a show of respect. Charlie did not even remove hers from the table. Instead, she flicked a lazy two-fingered salute to her bosses.
Edwin appeared unamused and shot Charlie a stern frown but Arane seemed to not notice. As usual there was far too many other important matters tugging her attention away from Charlie’s glassy eyes or the dark circles around her eyes. So many times would Charlie just have loved for Arane to be cross with her, to call her out on her drug use. After Henry Nausikaa had been killed a year prior and left Arane to deal with the blossoming company, she had little time for Charlie’s many pitfalls.
Charlie was there to produce – kill, maim, torture, steal. A complicated job might call for all four in the same evening.
“Eugene “The Bear” Brand,” Arane started without a greeting. “He’s been shaving money off the books on West side. Edwin warned him several times that his numbers were coming up short. I’m done dealing with him.”
Arane’s gaze then focused in on Charlie. “Solve it.”
Charlie gave a single nod, flipping the switch blade out once more and causing more than one of the suits to cringe.
Crime: Murder
Part II - Nausikaa International Headquarters. Talsiny City, Talsiny. 7 years ago.
Charlie flicked open her switch blade and then shoved it closed with rhythmic regularity and little concern for the annoyance of those around her. Her muddy black boots were propped up on the large oval table and she leaned back in her chair without the slightest concern for the stares she was getting.
However, the men in finely tailored surrounding the table weren’t annoyed by her antics but frightened by the mere presence of the eighteen year old girl. They shifted nervously in their chairs, adjusting their ties or tapping their pens against the table as they waited for their employers to make an appearance. None of them knew the purpose of Charlie Nausikaa’s latest visit but they were all in a great deal of anxiety to find out what, or who, her next target would be.
The door suddenly swung open and in walked Arane Nausikaa followed by her business partner, Edwin. Then men quickly found their way to their feet in a show of respect. Charlie did not even remove hers from the table. Instead, she flicked a lazy two-fingered salute to her bosses.
Edwin appeared unamused and shot Charlie a stern frown but Arane seemed to not notice. As usual there was far too many other important matters tugging her attention away from Charlie’s glassy eyes or the dark circles around her eyes. So many times would Charlie just have loved for Arane to be cross with her, to call her out on her drug use. After Henry Nausikaa had been killed a year prior and left Arane to deal with the blossoming company, she had little time for Charlie’s many pitfalls.
Charlie was there to produce – kill, maim, torture, steal. A complicated job might call for all four in the same evening.
“Eugene “The Bear” Brand,” Arane started without a greeting. “He’s been shaving money off the books on West side. Edwin warned him several times that his numbers were coming up short. I’m done dealing with him.”
Arane’s gaze then focused in on Charlie. “Solve it.”
Charlie gave a single nod, flipping the switch blade out once more and causing more than one of the suits to cringe.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #29: Eugene "The Bear" Brand
Crime: Murder
Part III - West End Hotel. Talsiny City, Talsiny. 7 years ago.
Charlie sat on the side of the shower for nearly an hour as she waited for her opportunity. Finally, she heard the door of the penthouse suite swing open and the voices of the two entering. She yawned silently and stretched out her back, anxious to get out of this position.
“Just come right up here onto the bed, Mr. Brand. I’ll take good care of you,” came a woman’s voice using a low seductive tone.
Her male companion let out a hearty laugh as he obviously began to follow her instructions. The voices were muffled for several minutes and Charlie was forced to simply wait. Finally, as the woman began to approach the bathroom, she knew it was almost time. “Just a minute, baby. I’m going to change into something you’re going to love.”
The bathroom door swung open and a small brunette stepped in, shutting the door quickly behind her. A sultry smile formed on her face as she saw Charlie. “Hey, gorgeous,” she said in a soft whisper.
Charlie rose to her feet, flashing her friend a half-smile. “Get the hell out of here,” she said, jutting a thumb towards the high open window above the toilet that Charlie had squeezed in through.
The brunette gave a pout but hopped up onto the toilet and took Charlie's offered help to climb through onto the fire escape outside. She peeked her head back in as Charlie was handing her a coat. “Don’t make a mess out of my room.”
Charlie smiled and shook her head, motioning for the woman to get going and then closing the window after she did. Charlie swung open the bathroom door and stepped out into the bedroom, pulling her sheathed dagger from a specially made pocket within her leather jacket. The Bear was lying naked on the bed with his hands tied together at the wrists above his head and a blindfold over his eyes.
“Come to the Big Bear, lovey.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, Charlie started towards the bed. “This’ll never do,” she mumbled under her breath.
She straddled the big man on the bed, unsheathing the dagger and quickly slicing through the silk that bound his hands. Confusion drew the Bear’s features together. “What’s going–“ his question came to an abrupt halt as the blindfold was removed and he found Charlie Jericho sitting on top of him with knife in a hand.
“I’m right here, Big Bear,” Charlie said in a mock seductive tone. She then held up the pinky of the hand without the blade and gave a teasing grin. “But you don’t have anything that could please me.”
“What– what the hell do you want?” he growled in return.
Charlie let out a brief humorless laugh. “Well, I want to kill you, of course.”
Deadly recognition dawned on the man’s face. He did not think that Edwin and Arane Nausikaa would have leapt to this so quickly. “I– I want to talk to them,” he stammered.
“They’re done talking. Now you get to play with me,” Charlie whispered. The she tossed the dagger to the side of the room and smiled brightly down at him. “You better get it. Your life depends on it.”
Immediately, the hulking man shoved Charlie off of him, causing her head to thump against the headboard hard. He quickly found his feet and dove for the dagger. Charlie paused to squint and rub the back of her head with a frown.
As Bear stood and turned with the dagger towards her, Charlie’s hand swung behind her to a vase she had noticed on the bedside night stand. She grabbed hold and swung it around as soon as he was within range. A sickening thud filled the room as the vase cracked against his skull and shattered into a million sharp pieces around them.
The Bear let out a muffled cry and at once Charlie launched herself from the bed onto him. Her weight caused him to fall backwards. The fall along with her weight on top of him knocked the breath from his lungs. He gasped for air as Charlie, who had escaped most of the impact thanks to the Bear’s large frame, pinned him down with her legs.
Immediately, she brought a fist down into his gut, causing his search for air to begin once more. He gasped desperately as Charlie attempted to reach for the dagger that he had dropped when he hit the floor. In her distraction, a heavy fist connected with her jaw. The blow sent her tumbling off to the side. She landed sprawled out on her back with the taste of blood in her mouth that only caused her heightened excitement.
He had the advantage now. He quickly jumped on top of her and grinned down at her cruelly. He released one of her arms to tug at her jeans, unsnapping and unzipping them in one fluid motion. “Sorry, Charlie.”
With expert quickness and with her gaze never wavering from the Bear's face, Charlie grabbed the dagger that now lay within arm’s reach and shoved it into the Bear’s chest. “I hate that phrase,” she growled in her first sign of anger. His mouth hung open wordlessly in shock. She yanked the dagger free of his body before shoving it in once more. Blood dripped down his chin and onto her chest.
She kicked the man off of her, keeping a grip on the knife so that he was once again yanked free of it. The Bear remained face down. Charlie paused to zip her jeans back up and wipe her dagger clean on his abandoned pants. She then slid it back into the dagger and hid it in her jacket pocket. Briefly, she dropped to a crouch beside the Bear and stuck two fingers against his thick neck long enough to be assured that the mission was complete.
With her job done and her victim growing cold, Charlie headed out of the room, leaving the door open so that the body would be found shortly. She headed down the hall and slipped through a door that led down to the service entrance. As unnoticed as she arrived, she headed out the exit of the building and into the night to lose herself in a well-earned line of cocaine she had waiting for her back in her apartment.
Crime: Murder
Part III - West End Hotel. Talsiny City, Talsiny. 7 years ago.
Charlie sat on the side of the shower for nearly an hour as she waited for her opportunity. Finally, she heard the door of the penthouse suite swing open and the voices of the two entering. She yawned silently and stretched out her back, anxious to get out of this position.
“Just come right up here onto the bed, Mr. Brand. I’ll take good care of you,” came a woman’s voice using a low seductive tone.
Her male companion let out a hearty laugh as he obviously began to follow her instructions. The voices were muffled for several minutes and Charlie was forced to simply wait. Finally, as the woman began to approach the bathroom, she knew it was almost time. “Just a minute, baby. I’m going to change into something you’re going to love.”
The bathroom door swung open and a small brunette stepped in, shutting the door quickly behind her. A sultry smile formed on her face as she saw Charlie. “Hey, gorgeous,” she said in a soft whisper.
Charlie rose to her feet, flashing her friend a half-smile. “Get the hell out of here,” she said, jutting a thumb towards the high open window above the toilet that Charlie had squeezed in through.
The brunette gave a pout but hopped up onto the toilet and took Charlie's offered help to climb through onto the fire escape outside. She peeked her head back in as Charlie was handing her a coat. “Don’t make a mess out of my room.”
Charlie smiled and shook her head, motioning for the woman to get going and then closing the window after she did. Charlie swung open the bathroom door and stepped out into the bedroom, pulling her sheathed dagger from a specially made pocket within her leather jacket. The Bear was lying naked on the bed with his hands tied together at the wrists above his head and a blindfold over his eyes.
“Come to the Big Bear, lovey.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, Charlie started towards the bed. “This’ll never do,” she mumbled under her breath.
She straddled the big man on the bed, unsheathing the dagger and quickly slicing through the silk that bound his hands. Confusion drew the Bear’s features together. “What’s going–“ his question came to an abrupt halt as the blindfold was removed and he found Charlie Jericho sitting on top of him with knife in a hand.
“I’m right here, Big Bear,” Charlie said in a mock seductive tone. She then held up the pinky of the hand without the blade and gave a teasing grin. “But you don’t have anything that could please me.”
“What– what the hell do you want?” he growled in return.
Charlie let out a brief humorless laugh. “Well, I want to kill you, of course.”
Deadly recognition dawned on the man’s face. He did not think that Edwin and Arane Nausikaa would have leapt to this so quickly. “I– I want to talk to them,” he stammered.
“They’re done talking. Now you get to play with me,” Charlie whispered. The she tossed the dagger to the side of the room and smiled brightly down at him. “You better get it. Your life depends on it.”
Immediately, the hulking man shoved Charlie off of him, causing her head to thump against the headboard hard. He quickly found his feet and dove for the dagger. Charlie paused to squint and rub the back of her head with a frown.
As Bear stood and turned with the dagger towards her, Charlie’s hand swung behind her to a vase she had noticed on the bedside night stand. She grabbed hold and swung it around as soon as he was within range. A sickening thud filled the room as the vase cracked against his skull and shattered into a million sharp pieces around them.
The Bear let out a muffled cry and at once Charlie launched herself from the bed onto him. Her weight caused him to fall backwards. The fall along with her weight on top of him knocked the breath from his lungs. He gasped for air as Charlie, who had escaped most of the impact thanks to the Bear’s large frame, pinned him down with her legs.
Immediately, she brought a fist down into his gut, causing his search for air to begin once more. He gasped desperately as Charlie attempted to reach for the dagger that he had dropped when he hit the floor. In her distraction, a heavy fist connected with her jaw. The blow sent her tumbling off to the side. She landed sprawled out on her back with the taste of blood in her mouth that only caused her heightened excitement.
He had the advantage now. He quickly jumped on top of her and grinned down at her cruelly. He released one of her arms to tug at her jeans, unsnapping and unzipping them in one fluid motion. “Sorry, Charlie.”
With expert quickness and with her gaze never wavering from the Bear's face, Charlie grabbed the dagger that now lay within arm’s reach and shoved it into the Bear’s chest. “I hate that phrase,” she growled in her first sign of anger. His mouth hung open wordlessly in shock. She yanked the dagger free of his body before shoving it in once more. Blood dripped down his chin and onto her chest.
She kicked the man off of her, keeping a grip on the knife so that he was once again yanked free of it. The Bear remained face down. Charlie paused to zip her jeans back up and wipe her dagger clean on his abandoned pants. She then slid it back into the dagger and hid it in her jacket pocket. Briefly, she dropped to a crouch beside the Bear and stuck two fingers against his thick neck long enough to be assured that the mission was complete.
With her job done and her victim growing cold, Charlie headed out of the room, leaving the door open so that the body would be found shortly. She headed down the hall and slipped through a door that led down to the service entrance. As unnoticed as she arrived, she headed out the exit of the building and into the night to lose herself in a well-earned line of cocaine she had waiting for her back in her apartment.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #29: Eugene "The Bear" Brand
Crime: Murder
Part IV - The Lakeside Dojo. Two hours south of RhyDin. Present day.
Charlie found herself sans makeup with her hair pulled back in a low bun and in sweats leaning back against the dojo wall. She could see herself in the mirrored wall opposite and nearly didn’t recognize herself. She was quite certain that even if Sam knew who she was, he certainly wouldn’t recognize her.
Sam, a talented martial artist, was paid a nominal fee by the dojo’s owner to scrub the floors, take out the trash, and other odd jobs. It allowed him free access and plenty of time to practice between classes. As Charlie watched, she could quickly tell that he had made good use of the extra time.
His shaggy sandy hair was matted to his forehead and his eyes were concentrated in fierce determination as he easily wound himself through an intricate form. Each foot was carefully placed. Every kick was made with force. His crisp white uniform snapped with the movements. One could almost truly imagine an opponent in front of the tight-lipped fourteen year old.
Charlie had the training and appreciation as a fellow martial artist to truly appreciate a well-done form. Therefore, when he came to a stop, his chest heaving for air, Charlie applauded lightly and not just in playing the role she was here to play. “Nice,” she said with an easy-going smile that she had practiced many times before in a mirror.
He was startled. His brown eyes swung in her direction curiously. He shifted his weight nervously as he took in the woman in front of him. If there was one thing Charlie was sure of, it was her affect on teenage boys. For some reason, they were absolutely bowled over by her. “Master Side’ya is not here right now,” he said slowly as he found his voice.
“I see,” Charlie stated, nodding slowly as she took the sights in as if it were her first time in such a studio. “I’m looking for lessons. Perhaps you can help me then,” she said decidedly.
The boy stuttered anxiously, his features twisting in concern. “I– I... I am no teacher. If you come back in an hour or two, my Master will be here, ma’am.”
She forced her face to fall at his comment. “Your Master will probably want money in exchange for classes, huh?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Charlie chewed lightly on her bottom lip, her gaze shifting elsewhere. “I don’t have it,” she said softly. “I really need lessons. My ex-boyfriend... he scares me.”
The teenager bought the act and was suddenly quite concerned that he might have a crying woman on his hands. There’s nothing more frustrating to a man than a crying woman. He yanked on the ends of his black belt nervously. “Well.... well, perhaps I can help you then.”
She allowed a brilliant smile to cross her lips. “How wonderful!” Then as quickly as she allowed the smile to appear, she forced it to disappear. “But I have to repay you in some way. Is there anything that I can do in return for you?”
Sam paused only momentarily in thought of what he needed but much longer in an attempt to put together it in a clear and concise manner. “Yes. Actually, there is something you probably could help me with.”
“Yes?” Charlie asked eagerly.
“Do you know how to dance?” Sam asked, a blush rising to his cheeks. She gave a nod in reply but her features were scrunched up in such a questioning manner that Sam felt compelled to continue.
“There’s a girl at school. I think she likes me and I know she’d like to go to this dance that’s coming up but I... I can’t dance,” Sam admitted hurriedly.
Charlie gave her brightest smile once again as she took a step forward, holding out a hand to him. “Well, then it is a deal.”He smiled easily in return and quickly shook the outstretched hand.
Crime: Murder
Part IV - The Lakeside Dojo. Two hours south of RhyDin. Present day.
Charlie found herself sans makeup with her hair pulled back in a low bun and in sweats leaning back against the dojo wall. She could see herself in the mirrored wall opposite and nearly didn’t recognize herself. She was quite certain that even if Sam knew who she was, he certainly wouldn’t recognize her.
Sam, a talented martial artist, was paid a nominal fee by the dojo’s owner to scrub the floors, take out the trash, and other odd jobs. It allowed him free access and plenty of time to practice between classes. As Charlie watched, she could quickly tell that he had made good use of the extra time.
His shaggy sandy hair was matted to his forehead and his eyes were concentrated in fierce determination as he easily wound himself through an intricate form. Each foot was carefully placed. Every kick was made with force. His crisp white uniform snapped with the movements. One could almost truly imagine an opponent in front of the tight-lipped fourteen year old.
Charlie had the training and appreciation as a fellow martial artist to truly appreciate a well-done form. Therefore, when he came to a stop, his chest heaving for air, Charlie applauded lightly and not just in playing the role she was here to play. “Nice,” she said with an easy-going smile that she had practiced many times before in a mirror.
He was startled. His brown eyes swung in her direction curiously. He shifted his weight nervously as he took in the woman in front of him. If there was one thing Charlie was sure of, it was her affect on teenage boys. For some reason, they were absolutely bowled over by her. “Master Side’ya is not here right now,” he said slowly as he found his voice.
“I see,” Charlie stated, nodding slowly as she took the sights in as if it were her first time in such a studio. “I’m looking for lessons. Perhaps you can help me then,” she said decidedly.
The boy stuttered anxiously, his features twisting in concern. “I– I... I am no teacher. If you come back in an hour or two, my Master will be here, ma’am.”
She forced her face to fall at his comment. “Your Master will probably want money in exchange for classes, huh?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Charlie chewed lightly on her bottom lip, her gaze shifting elsewhere. “I don’t have it,” she said softly. “I really need lessons. My ex-boyfriend... he scares me.”
The teenager bought the act and was suddenly quite concerned that he might have a crying woman on his hands. There’s nothing more frustrating to a man than a crying woman. He yanked on the ends of his black belt nervously. “Well.... well, perhaps I can help you then.”
She allowed a brilliant smile to cross her lips. “How wonderful!” Then as quickly as she allowed the smile to appear, she forced it to disappear. “But I have to repay you in some way. Is there anything that I can do in return for you?”
Sam paused only momentarily in thought of what he needed but much longer in an attempt to put together it in a clear and concise manner. “Yes. Actually, there is something you probably could help me with.”
“Yes?” Charlie asked eagerly.
“Do you know how to dance?” Sam asked, a blush rising to his cheeks. She gave a nod in reply but her features were scrunched up in such a questioning manner that Sam felt compelled to continue.
“There’s a girl at school. I think she likes me and I know she’d like to go to this dance that’s coming up but I... I can’t dance,” Sam admitted hurriedly.
Charlie gave her brightest smile once again as she took a step forward, holding out a hand to him. “Well, then it is a deal.”He smiled easily in return and quickly shook the outstretched hand.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #15: Juliet Perkins
Crime: Failure to protect
Part I: The House of Retribution, Old Market District. Present day.
Charlie pressed her flushed forehead against the cool pane of glass of the door, silently watching a pair of schoolgirls skipping down the street arm-in-arm. The pair skittered down the busy street – past merchants rolling their carts towards the market and a haggard-looking mother toting a squirming toddler on her hip. There was something about the atmosphere of the Old Market District that reminded her of Talsiny City, of home. She shoved the thoughts away as quickly as they came, unwilling to dwell on her exile.
A sudden restlessness churned deeply in her, urging her to escape the warmth of the House for a breath of fresh air. There was something about winter that drove her insane. She blamed it on the lack of sunlight and the necessity of wearing shoes.
Her gaze shifted towards the couch in the waiting room where Tareth was sprawled out. His head was propped up on an arm of the couch with his wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes. After the damage his body had taken in the last Overlord challenge and with another upcoming challenge and the DQ, she could not find it in herself to wake him with such a meager enticement of a walk on a cold winter morning.
"What is this?" asked the ever-somber Eleanor from behind her desk as she held up one of Charlie's notes. Tareth erased any hopes that she had that he was sleeping by pushing his hat up at the question to turn his head towards Eleanor. Charlie reluctantly took leave of the scene outside to head towards the secretary to take a look at the note. Beside the name Juliet Perkins, were the scribbled words "Psalm 51".
"Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me," Charlie repeated softly but with heartfelt emotion.
Tareth remained silent, which was not at all surprising. While Charlie rarely understood the Thorns in general, she understood his silence while they were in this building. The House was her project; one that he had made clear he believed was fundamental to her future, to their future. It was something she had to do on her own. He kept close or out of the way depending on her mood. There was not a moment, though, that she did not doubt that he was watching. His contract with CDR requested it and something deeper within him demanded it.
He pushed his hat back down over his eyes, seeming not the least bit surprised by her ability to rattle off Bible quotes. Eleanor, on the other hand, was thoroughly confused. "What does that have to do with this Juliet Perkins?"
The memory of the Juliet hit Charlie solidly in the chest. The guilt weighed so heavily that it seemed no act of contrition or heartfelt begging for God's forgiveness would clear her of the burden of Juliet Perkins. Charlie reached up and ran both of her hands through her wavy blonde locks.
"It was the last thing she said to me," Charlie murmured softly.
Crime: Failure to protect
Part I: The House of Retribution, Old Market District. Present day.
Charlie pressed her flushed forehead against the cool pane of glass of the door, silently watching a pair of schoolgirls skipping down the street arm-in-arm. The pair skittered down the busy street – past merchants rolling their carts towards the market and a haggard-looking mother toting a squirming toddler on her hip. There was something about the atmosphere of the Old Market District that reminded her of Talsiny City, of home. She shoved the thoughts away as quickly as they came, unwilling to dwell on her exile.
A sudden restlessness churned deeply in her, urging her to escape the warmth of the House for a breath of fresh air. There was something about winter that drove her insane. She blamed it on the lack of sunlight and the necessity of wearing shoes.
Her gaze shifted towards the couch in the waiting room where Tareth was sprawled out. His head was propped up on an arm of the couch with his wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes. After the damage his body had taken in the last Overlord challenge and with another upcoming challenge and the DQ, she could not find it in herself to wake him with such a meager enticement of a walk on a cold winter morning.
"What is this?" asked the ever-somber Eleanor from behind her desk as she held up one of Charlie's notes. Tareth erased any hopes that she had that he was sleeping by pushing his hat up at the question to turn his head towards Eleanor. Charlie reluctantly took leave of the scene outside to head towards the secretary to take a look at the note. Beside the name Juliet Perkins, were the scribbled words "Psalm 51".
"Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me," Charlie repeated softly but with heartfelt emotion.
Tareth remained silent, which was not at all surprising. While Charlie rarely understood the Thorns in general, she understood his silence while they were in this building. The House was her project; one that he had made clear he believed was fundamental to her future, to their future. It was something she had to do on her own. He kept close or out of the way depending on her mood. There was not a moment, though, that she did not doubt that he was watching. His contract with CDR requested it and something deeper within him demanded it.
He pushed his hat back down over his eyes, seeming not the least bit surprised by her ability to rattle off Bible quotes. Eleanor, on the other hand, was thoroughly confused. "What does that have to do with this Juliet Perkins?"
The memory of the Juliet hit Charlie solidly in the chest. The guilt weighed so heavily that it seemed no act of contrition or heartfelt begging for God's forgiveness would clear her of the burden of Juliet Perkins. Charlie reached up and ran both of her hands through her wavy blonde locks.
"It was the last thing she said to me," Charlie murmured softly.
Last edited by Charlie Nausikaa on Sun Jan 22, 2006 2:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #15: Juliet Perkins
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part II: Nausikaa Hotel in Talsiny City, Talsiny. 5 years prior.
There were strings of days, weeks even, when Charlie never slept. Her days would be filled with drugs and whatever odd jobs Nausikaa had for her while her nights would be spent filling up sketch pad after sketch pad with drawings of Port Martha, of her father, of fishing boats on the ocean's horizon, of her life before Nausikaa.
Therefore, it was no surprise that a heavy pounding to the door of her permanent residence – a suite in the lavish Nausikaa Hotel – did not wake her. She picked her pencil up off the page and frowned in annoyance. After the knocking began again, she batted aside the sketch pad which landed on the floor amongst many others, and rose to her feet. She swung her blonde hair into a bun and shoved the pencil through to hold it into place.
The incessant knocking began a third time and Charlie swung the door open to level her perturbed frown on the hotel's overnight concierge. The short man shifted nervously as he came face-to-face with the infamous woman. His reaction to her only caused her heightened frustration.
"I-I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Nausikaa. Mr. George Nausikaa has left for the evening.... and there is a problem," he stumbled through the speech, rubbing his hands together anxiously.
Charlie leaned her hip against the doorframe, tilting her head at the man before her. "What is it?" she growled.
"Well, there have been reports of a... well, rather large disturbance coming from Mr. Damien Gardner's room." Charlie could have sworn the man was blushing. Had one of the hotel's rich clientele come to the man before her for some discreet "company" for the evening, he would have no trouble introducing the man to Damien. However, when Damien's short temper was irritated by alcohol and he was taking it out by beating one of those prostitutes, the concierge wanted nothing to do with Damien.
Although, Damien was a minor Nausikaa employee, Charlie had no direct authority over him or the hotel, for that matter. The Nausikaa Hotel was merely her place of residence provided graciously by Nausikaa Enterprises. She was an assassin, not a hotel manager or a union leader for prostitutes.
In that moment, Charlie was ready to tell him to bugger off. Perhaps the man saw that on her features because he felt the need to add, "It is Miss Juliet in there with him."
Instantly, Charlie Jericho shoved her way past the man and was angrily stalking down the hallway towards the stairs.
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part II: Nausikaa Hotel in Talsiny City, Talsiny. 5 years prior.
There were strings of days, weeks even, when Charlie never slept. Her days would be filled with drugs and whatever odd jobs Nausikaa had for her while her nights would be spent filling up sketch pad after sketch pad with drawings of Port Martha, of her father, of fishing boats on the ocean's horizon, of her life before Nausikaa.
Therefore, it was no surprise that a heavy pounding to the door of her permanent residence – a suite in the lavish Nausikaa Hotel – did not wake her. She picked her pencil up off the page and frowned in annoyance. After the knocking began again, she batted aside the sketch pad which landed on the floor amongst many others, and rose to her feet. She swung her blonde hair into a bun and shoved the pencil through to hold it into place.
The incessant knocking began a third time and Charlie swung the door open to level her perturbed frown on the hotel's overnight concierge. The short man shifted nervously as he came face-to-face with the infamous woman. His reaction to her only caused her heightened frustration.
"I-I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Nausikaa. Mr. George Nausikaa has left for the evening.... and there is a problem," he stumbled through the speech, rubbing his hands together anxiously.
Charlie leaned her hip against the doorframe, tilting her head at the man before her. "What is it?" she growled.
"Well, there have been reports of a... well, rather large disturbance coming from Mr. Damien Gardner's room." Charlie could have sworn the man was blushing. Had one of the hotel's rich clientele come to the man before her for some discreet "company" for the evening, he would have no trouble introducing the man to Damien. However, when Damien's short temper was irritated by alcohol and he was taking it out by beating one of those prostitutes, the concierge wanted nothing to do with Damien.
Although, Damien was a minor Nausikaa employee, Charlie had no direct authority over him or the hotel, for that matter. The Nausikaa Hotel was merely her place of residence provided graciously by Nausikaa Enterprises. She was an assassin, not a hotel manager or a union leader for prostitutes.
In that moment, Charlie was ready to tell him to bugger off. Perhaps the man saw that on her features because he felt the need to add, "It is Miss Juliet in there with him."
Instantly, Charlie Jericho shoved her way past the man and was angrily stalking down the hallway towards the stairs.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #15: Juliet Perkins
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part III: Nausikaa Hotel in Talsiny City, Talsiny. 5 years prior.
The sounds of an argument could be heard well down the hall. A woman's sobs could at times be heard over a man's drunken shouts. Hotel patrons were beginning to stick their heads out of their lush rooms out of a voyeuristic desire to understand what was happening. The stalking infamous Nausikaan only added to their dark pleasure.
The concierge followed, enticing guests to return to their beds as their was only a minor situation which would be cleared up shortly and apologizing profusely for the disturbance. Reluctantly, the witnesses saw no excuse to linger any longer and the doors gradually closed.
Charlie Jericho swung the door open to Damien Gardner's suite and shut it just as quickly behind her. The concierge had made no move to follow and would not have been allowed had he wanted to watch. The scene within had came to a pause as both occupants had stopped in surprise to shoot a glance to the interloper.
Juliet's frightened doe-like brown eyes met Charlie's piercing gaze. Her mass of dark brown curls hung around her shoulders. A small amount of blood oozed from her bottom lip and her cheek was bright red, still stinging from a wallop. Charlie's anger swelled the longer Juliet's gaze remained on her. Charlie balled her hands up into fists, whipping her gaze towards Damien.
"What the hell do you want, Charlie?" Damien grunted, grabbing an open bottle of whiskey.
"I am about ten short seconds from losing my patience with you, Damien. If you like the head you do most your thinking with to remain attached to your body, you better shut it," Charlie advised cooly. Damien let out a short laugh as he returned to sipping from the bottle and grimacing as the alcohol slid down his throat.
"What's going on, Jules?" Charlie asked softening her tone.
Juliet regained her courage and quickly skirted around the room so that Damien was no longer between her and her new protector. "I'm quitting."
Surprise briefly registered on Charlie's face but was quickly replaced by satisfaction. Juliet was far too beautiful to waste her life on her back. "Very well then," Charlie said slowly as she turned back to Damien. "You will leave her alone."
That drew Damien back out of his stupor and threw him into the rage once more. "Who the hell do you think you are? You don't order me around!"
Juliet cringed at the rage that had controlled her life up until this night but Charlie only held her chin up higher. "I am Charlie Nausikaa. You are a mere nothing to me. If I wasn't worried about George complaining about his hotel room getting bloody, I'd kill you right now so I never had to think of you again," Charlie stated clearly and without an ounce of emotion.
The comment stunned Damien into silence as Charlie removed any doubt that being Nausikaa might protect him in this instance. He was not drunk enough, at least not tonight, to believe that he could take on Charlie Nausikaa and survive to brag about it. Charlie swung an arm around Juliet's back and led her friend from the room, slamming the door shut behind them.
No words were spoken between the brash assassin and the high-priced prostitute until they were back in Charlie's room. As soon as she shut the door and locked it behind them, Charlie's green eyes found Juliet's sweet features. "You quit?"
Juliet finally allowed at small smile at her friend's hopeful tone and she took a small step even closer to her. "I am turning over a new leaf, Char." The tension in Charlie's rigid form eased and her features even relaxed into a relieved smile.
With heated passion and on an euphoric high, Juliet closed the distance between them, pressing Charlie up against the door. Not giving either of them a moment to have second thoughts, Juliet leaned forward to kiss Charlie's lips with a tabooed excitement that Charlie met in kind.
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part III: Nausikaa Hotel in Talsiny City, Talsiny. 5 years prior.
The sounds of an argument could be heard well down the hall. A woman's sobs could at times be heard over a man's drunken shouts. Hotel patrons were beginning to stick their heads out of their lush rooms out of a voyeuristic desire to understand what was happening. The stalking infamous Nausikaan only added to their dark pleasure.
The concierge followed, enticing guests to return to their beds as their was only a minor situation which would be cleared up shortly and apologizing profusely for the disturbance. Reluctantly, the witnesses saw no excuse to linger any longer and the doors gradually closed.
Charlie Jericho swung the door open to Damien Gardner's suite and shut it just as quickly behind her. The concierge had made no move to follow and would not have been allowed had he wanted to watch. The scene within had came to a pause as both occupants had stopped in surprise to shoot a glance to the interloper.
Juliet's frightened doe-like brown eyes met Charlie's piercing gaze. Her mass of dark brown curls hung around her shoulders. A small amount of blood oozed from her bottom lip and her cheek was bright red, still stinging from a wallop. Charlie's anger swelled the longer Juliet's gaze remained on her. Charlie balled her hands up into fists, whipping her gaze towards Damien.
"What the hell do you want, Charlie?" Damien grunted, grabbing an open bottle of whiskey.
"I am about ten short seconds from losing my patience with you, Damien. If you like the head you do most your thinking with to remain attached to your body, you better shut it," Charlie advised cooly. Damien let out a short laugh as he returned to sipping from the bottle and grimacing as the alcohol slid down his throat.
"What's going on, Jules?" Charlie asked softening her tone.
Juliet regained her courage and quickly skirted around the room so that Damien was no longer between her and her new protector. "I'm quitting."
Surprise briefly registered on Charlie's face but was quickly replaced by satisfaction. Juliet was far too beautiful to waste her life on her back. "Very well then," Charlie said slowly as she turned back to Damien. "You will leave her alone."
That drew Damien back out of his stupor and threw him into the rage once more. "Who the hell do you think you are? You don't order me around!"
Juliet cringed at the rage that had controlled her life up until this night but Charlie only held her chin up higher. "I am Charlie Nausikaa. You are a mere nothing to me. If I wasn't worried about George complaining about his hotel room getting bloody, I'd kill you right now so I never had to think of you again," Charlie stated clearly and without an ounce of emotion.
The comment stunned Damien into silence as Charlie removed any doubt that being Nausikaa might protect him in this instance. He was not drunk enough, at least not tonight, to believe that he could take on Charlie Nausikaa and survive to brag about it. Charlie swung an arm around Juliet's back and led her friend from the room, slamming the door shut behind them.
No words were spoken between the brash assassin and the high-priced prostitute until they were back in Charlie's room. As soon as she shut the door and locked it behind them, Charlie's green eyes found Juliet's sweet features. "You quit?"
Juliet finally allowed at small smile at her friend's hopeful tone and she took a small step even closer to her. "I am turning over a new leaf, Char." The tension in Charlie's rigid form eased and her features even relaxed into a relieved smile.
With heated passion and on an euphoric high, Juliet closed the distance between them, pressing Charlie up against the door. Not giving either of them a moment to have second thoughts, Juliet leaned forward to kiss Charlie's lips with a tabooed excitement that Charlie met in kind.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim: Juliet Perkins
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part IV: Saint Mary's Cathedral in Talsiny City, Talsiny. 5 years prior.
"You sure you do not wish to come in?" Juliet paused on the stairs of the Cathedral, thumbing over her shoulder. Juliet's long brown hair was tamed in a sleek, low bun and her curvy feminine form was clad in a sexy but very respective skirted suit. She had changed so in both demeanor and appearance that even Charlie hardly recognized her as the call girl from the month prior.
Charlie shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, speaking to Juliet while taking in those passing them as they headed into the church. She was still wary of Damien retaking what he believed to be rightfully his so she rarely let Juliet out of her sight.
"You will be safe in there. He would not dare risk being struck by lightening as soon as he walked through the door," Charlie stated with her typical dry, dismissing sense of humor.
Juliet stepped down a step, coming so close to Charlie that she was briefly concerned that Juliet might blow their secret by kissing her here, in public. In Talsiny such an intimate relationship as they shared would cause a great deal of trouble. Even Nausikaa would disavow her.
Instead, Juliet tilted her head at Charlie, offering up her newly acquired radiantly serene smile. "I feel that is a fear that you two might share in common."
Charlie allowed a soft, humorless laugh. "I hope that you are angel enough for both of us, Jules. I do not believe that even God could forgive all of my sins."
The peaceful smile on Juliet's seraphic face never faltered. "Never forget, Char – Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me."
"How will I ever forget when you continuously remind me?" Charlie asked teasingly as she took a step back.
Juliet tilted her head back in laughter before turning to head up the stairs. Charlie, determined to make sure the woman was safely within the church doors before she left, watched her swaying hips beneath the soft fabric of her skirt. Juliet paused at the open door to shoot Charlie a dazzling smile and wave before she disappeared within the depths of the great building.
Charlie turned on the heels of her boots and started away from the cathedral. The crowd heading into the building readily parted for the Nausikaan heading away from it. She went off to waste the next hour and a half of her life before it was time to escort Juliet home once more.
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part IV: Saint Mary's Cathedral in Talsiny City, Talsiny. 5 years prior.
"You sure you do not wish to come in?" Juliet paused on the stairs of the Cathedral, thumbing over her shoulder. Juliet's long brown hair was tamed in a sleek, low bun and her curvy feminine form was clad in a sexy but very respective skirted suit. She had changed so in both demeanor and appearance that even Charlie hardly recognized her as the call girl from the month prior.
Charlie shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, speaking to Juliet while taking in those passing them as they headed into the church. She was still wary of Damien retaking what he believed to be rightfully his so she rarely let Juliet out of her sight.
"You will be safe in there. He would not dare risk being struck by lightening as soon as he walked through the door," Charlie stated with her typical dry, dismissing sense of humor.
Juliet stepped down a step, coming so close to Charlie that she was briefly concerned that Juliet might blow their secret by kissing her here, in public. In Talsiny such an intimate relationship as they shared would cause a great deal of trouble. Even Nausikaa would disavow her.
Instead, Juliet tilted her head at Charlie, offering up her newly acquired radiantly serene smile. "I feel that is a fear that you two might share in common."
Charlie allowed a soft, humorless laugh. "I hope that you are angel enough for both of us, Jules. I do not believe that even God could forgive all of my sins."
The peaceful smile on Juliet's seraphic face never faltered. "Never forget, Char – Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me."
"How will I ever forget when you continuously remind me?" Charlie asked teasingly as she took a step back.
Juliet tilted her head back in laughter before turning to head up the stairs. Charlie, determined to make sure the woman was safely within the church doors before she left, watched her swaying hips beneath the soft fabric of her skirt. Juliet paused at the open door to shoot Charlie a dazzling smile and wave before she disappeared within the depths of the great building.
Charlie turned on the heels of her boots and started away from the cathedral. The crowd heading into the building readily parted for the Nausikaan heading away from it. She went off to waste the next hour and a half of her life before it was time to escort Juliet home once more.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim #15: Juliet Perkins
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part V: The aftermath. 5 years prior.
An hour and a half. She had meant to come back for Juliet, of course. There had been a run-in with an old friend who had a great new drug he was dying for someone with her great expertise to try.
With a lack of knowledge of this drug or its effect on her body, Charlie had quickly become so wasted that her friend had to help her back to her suite at the Nausikaa Hotel. Her passed out body had laid prone on the bed while Juliet had waited just outside the cathedral, growing more and more anxious as the hour became later.
Finally Juliet had given up hope and had grown so fearful as to what had become of her friend that she had left the safety of the cathedral to set out on her own for the hotel. Damien Gardner had stumbled upon her alone and with alcohol clouding his judgement had pushed her into an alley to make her his once again.
For once in her life, Juliet had fought back. She fought back fiercely, desperately, vehemently. The outrage and the alcohol seeping through his blood was far more than a man with as short a temper as Damien Gardner could take. He beat the woman. He beat her past the point that she even fought back any longer. He beat her past the point where she was even showing any signs of life any longer.
Then as his rage began to ease and he realized what he had done, fear sobered his mind. Without a second thought as to whether the young woman on the dirty cobbled alleyway was still alive or not, Damien Gardner fled Talsiny City.
His rage, however, was no match for what Juliet's friend felt when finally she laid eyes on her in St. Augusta hospital. Charlie was told nothing could be done, that Juliet would never be the same woman she had once been. Words like "brain damage" and "permanent memory loss" bounced off her.
She had a hard time looking at the broken, unconscious woman in the hospital bed. Revenge was all-consuming. Damien Gardner was easily tracked down and gutted like the pig he was. His death was slow, miserable but gave Charlie no relief for she knew that she deserved to die along side him for failing Juliet.
Her return to Juliet was thus as a hopeless, depressed soul and proved to be far shorter than she had anticipated.
Edwin Nausikaa had found Charlie there and spoke urgently of her being needed in RhyDin. Her stay there was to be indefinite. Edwin had been clear that rumors were wildly spreading of a deeply disturbing nature. Word of a unnatural relationship between the women were reaching people in high places. The Nausikaan hierarchy was having trouble easing the Bishop's Council on the matter and were not themselves accepting of such a thing.
Therefore, without haste, Charlie was sent to RhyDin. Contact with Juliet or progress reports on her condition were strictly forbidden and Charlie did not fight Nausikaa on the matter. She who was the very picture of evil and sin had no rights to Juliet, who was all that was good and right in this world. The first had only managed to spoil the second during their brief friendship.
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part V: The aftermath. 5 years prior.
An hour and a half. She had meant to come back for Juliet, of course. There had been a run-in with an old friend who had a great new drug he was dying for someone with her great expertise to try.
With a lack of knowledge of this drug or its effect on her body, Charlie had quickly become so wasted that her friend had to help her back to her suite at the Nausikaa Hotel. Her passed out body had laid prone on the bed while Juliet had waited just outside the cathedral, growing more and more anxious as the hour became later.
Finally Juliet had given up hope and had grown so fearful as to what had become of her friend that she had left the safety of the cathedral to set out on her own for the hotel. Damien Gardner had stumbled upon her alone and with alcohol clouding his judgement had pushed her into an alley to make her his once again.
For once in her life, Juliet had fought back. She fought back fiercely, desperately, vehemently. The outrage and the alcohol seeping through his blood was far more than a man with as short a temper as Damien Gardner could take. He beat the woman. He beat her past the point that she even fought back any longer. He beat her past the point where she was even showing any signs of life any longer.
Then as his rage began to ease and he realized what he had done, fear sobered his mind. Without a second thought as to whether the young woman on the dirty cobbled alleyway was still alive or not, Damien Gardner fled Talsiny City.
His rage, however, was no match for what Juliet's friend felt when finally she laid eyes on her in St. Augusta hospital. Charlie was told nothing could be done, that Juliet would never be the same woman she had once been. Words like "brain damage" and "permanent memory loss" bounced off her.
She had a hard time looking at the broken, unconscious woman in the hospital bed. Revenge was all-consuming. Damien Gardner was easily tracked down and gutted like the pig he was. His death was slow, miserable but gave Charlie no relief for she knew that she deserved to die along side him for failing Juliet.
Her return to Juliet was thus as a hopeless, depressed soul and proved to be far shorter than she had anticipated.
Edwin Nausikaa had found Charlie there and spoke urgently of her being needed in RhyDin. Her stay there was to be indefinite. Edwin had been clear that rumors were wildly spreading of a deeply disturbing nature. Word of a unnatural relationship between the women were reaching people in high places. The Nausikaan hierarchy was having trouble easing the Bishop's Council on the matter and were not themselves accepting of such a thing.
Therefore, without haste, Charlie was sent to RhyDin. Contact with Juliet or progress reports on her condition were strictly forbidden and Charlie did not fight Nausikaa on the matter. She who was the very picture of evil and sin had no rights to Juliet, who was all that was good and right in this world. The first had only managed to spoil the second during their brief friendship.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Victim: Juliet Perkins
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part VI: White Hall in the Old Temple District of RhyDin. Present day.
The House's investigators had found Juliet Perkins with little difficulty. The woman had lived in a state-run home outside of Talsiny City for the past five years. She had no visitors. There was no therapy to encourage further improvement. Her short-term memory was dismal, her emotions unpredictable. She would eat only when told and need help dressing and bathing. She spoke little and when she did, it made little sense. Juliet lived each day like the last. Juliet would spend her day playing with a ratty doll and her evenings rocking in a chair while staring out the window. Her caretakers had given up on her improvement many years prior.
Little convincing by the investigators posing as distant family members wanting to take Juliet back with them was needed. Juliet's caretakers eagerly packed up her meager belongings and congratulated one another on one less mouth to feed as soon as she had left.
Juliet Perkins was settled into a sunny room in White Hall which Eleanor and Charlie had discovered was the best such home in RhyDin. The doctors assured her that they believed Juliet could make great progress. The caretakers took an quick liking to Juliet's cheerful disposition and childlike behavior. She was an easy charge to please.
Charlie reintroduction went over much more smoothly than Charlie could have ever hoped. News of her death had never reached Juliet and, if it had, it had not lingered in her damaged mind. Little time had passed to Juliet so Charlie was accepted readily as an old, dear friend who was eagerly asked to join in a game of jacks.
The improvements to her friend were nearly immediate. She began to talk once more and even was able to take care of herself more and more on her own. Juliet's mind would always be that of a child, though. The woman who Charlie had grown fond of was no longer alive but the innocent soul that had replaced her was just as beloved. Charlie's visits to White Hall became part of her daily routine.
On one such visit, Charlie found Juliet sitting in the garden, enjoying the afternoon sun. She took a seat next to her and they exchanged bright smiles but no words were needed. They sat for a long moment before a contemplative Charlie spoke up, "Jules, you remember Psalm 51?"
Juliet turned her dark eyes on Charlie curiously. "Yes," she said in her new slow way. "I used to say it to you," Juliet remembered before her gaze moved back towards a large weeping willow.
"Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me," Charlie repeated softly.
Juliet let out her childlike laugh and pulled the doll in her arms close to her chest. "That's not the most important verse! Oh, Char. You always lived by the wrong verse."
"It is not? What is?" Charlie asked, confusion weighing on her features.
"Ten through fifteen, silly. ‘Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me with thy free Spirit. Then will I teach transgressors thy ways; and sinners shall be converted onto thee. Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, thou God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of thy righteousness.'"
An easy silence filled the space between them once more as Charlie allowed that to sink in. Finally, she allowed a relaxed smile, the guilt of Juliet Perkins lifting from her shoulders.
"God of my salvation," she repeated softly to herself.
Crime: Failure to Protect
Part VI: White Hall in the Old Temple District of RhyDin. Present day.
The House's investigators had found Juliet Perkins with little difficulty. The woman had lived in a state-run home outside of Talsiny City for the past five years. She had no visitors. There was no therapy to encourage further improvement. Her short-term memory was dismal, her emotions unpredictable. She would eat only when told and need help dressing and bathing. She spoke little and when she did, it made little sense. Juliet lived each day like the last. Juliet would spend her day playing with a ratty doll and her evenings rocking in a chair while staring out the window. Her caretakers had given up on her improvement many years prior.
Little convincing by the investigators posing as distant family members wanting to take Juliet back with them was needed. Juliet's caretakers eagerly packed up her meager belongings and congratulated one another on one less mouth to feed as soon as she had left.
Juliet Perkins was settled into a sunny room in White Hall which Eleanor and Charlie had discovered was the best such home in RhyDin. The doctors assured her that they believed Juliet could make great progress. The caretakers took an quick liking to Juliet's cheerful disposition and childlike behavior. She was an easy charge to please.
Charlie reintroduction went over much more smoothly than Charlie could have ever hoped. News of her death had never reached Juliet and, if it had, it had not lingered in her damaged mind. Little time had passed to Juliet so Charlie was accepted readily as an old, dear friend who was eagerly asked to join in a game of jacks.
The improvements to her friend were nearly immediate. She began to talk once more and even was able to take care of herself more and more on her own. Juliet's mind would always be that of a child, though. The woman who Charlie had grown fond of was no longer alive but the innocent soul that had replaced her was just as beloved. Charlie's visits to White Hall became part of her daily routine.
On one such visit, Charlie found Juliet sitting in the garden, enjoying the afternoon sun. She took a seat next to her and they exchanged bright smiles but no words were needed. They sat for a long moment before a contemplative Charlie spoke up, "Jules, you remember Psalm 51?"
Juliet turned her dark eyes on Charlie curiously. "Yes," she said in her new slow way. "I used to say it to you," Juliet remembered before her gaze moved back towards a large weeping willow.
"Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me," Charlie repeated softly.
Juliet let out her childlike laugh and pulled the doll in her arms close to her chest. "That's not the most important verse! Oh, Char. You always lived by the wrong verse."
"It is not? What is?" Charlie asked, confusion weighing on her features.
"Ten through fifteen, silly. ‘Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me with thy free Spirit. Then will I teach transgressors thy ways; and sinners shall be converted onto thee. Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, thou God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of thy righteousness.'"
An easy silence filled the space between them once more as Charlie allowed that to sink in. Finally, she allowed a relaxed smile, the guilt of Juliet Perkins lifting from her shoulders.
"God of my salvation," she repeated softly to herself.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Target #1: William Gray
Crime: Domestic Violence
Part I - The House of Retribution, Old Market District. Present day.
Charlie Jericho sat behind her desk in the office she rarely used at the House with a concerned frown which deepened the more numbers she crunched. The House's accounting books were showing one common, overwhelming trend -- that of money seeping through its seams without haste. Nearly all of her pay checks from CDR were poured into this non-profit venture and, while she had many intangibles to show for it including a new found ability to sleep at night, the strain of keeping it running was beginning to wear on her financial purse strings.
Voices rose in the lobby and Charlie slid to her feet to approach the closed door to listen, anxious for any excuse to clear her mind of the doomed math. She found Eleanor engaged in one of her most common tasks -- attempting to convince someone that the House could not help with their problems. How word had gotten out that they might be able to help in such matters was beyond Charlie but nearly daily someone came by to beg that they determine whether or not a wife was cheating or to investigate the background of their children's new nanny. Each and everyone was politely declined.
This time it appeared the person with Eleanor was quite insistent. Charlie opened the door halfway and leaned her body aganinst the door frame. Eleanor sat sternly behind her desk, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose in frustration. A short, balding man stood in front of the desk with his hat in hand. He was dressed in the fashion and style of a local merchant of a respectable class and though the tone of his voice was grave there was no denying that the man had a kind, friendly air about him. To Charlie, one used to and talented at judging another's character immediately, the man passed all her tests. Both parties in the lobby were too thoroughly engaged in the debate to note her watching it.
"Miss, I need to speak with Ms. Charlie Jericho," the man continued as he wrung the hat in his hands.
Eleanor gave a firm shake of her head. "I am sorry, Sir, but that is simply not possible."
He gave a frustrated exhale. "You must listen to me. It's my daughter. This good for nothing man she's gotten herself wrapped up with has been beating her. She is only seventeen and will not leave him. I need help. I fear he will kill her. She is such a sweet, innocent, willing girl. My wife is a mess. I do not know what to do," his tone wavered with the impassionate plea. There was something in the father's loving, desperate petitions and the daughter's situation that caused even Charlie Jericho to hurt for him.
"Mister...."
"Benson," the man responded.
Eleanor gave a nod of her head. "Yes. Well, Mr. Benson, this office is for charity work. We do not do such jobs as you are asking."
"I can pay. I am a man of means," Mr. Benson stated urgently. For a brief moment, Charlie was sure that had Eleanor asked for all the man had, he would hand it over if only for a chance at securing his daughter's safety.
"The lady you ask for is not even present," Eleanor lied, hoping to dismiss his hopes with that.
Charlie cleared her throat to announce her presence, swinging the door open the rest of the way and stepping fully into the lobby. Eleanor coughed as her lie was revealed as such but Mr. Benson was much more interested in the owner to be cross with Eleanor. There was a brief pause as his dark eyes swept over Charlie as if wondering if the woman he had heard so much of could really handle the task. While there was nothing specific in her wavy long blonde hair, unpenetrable green eyes, and lean but athletic form that specifically pointed her to being a killer, there was no denying that the air around her crackled with danger.
She was in no mood to be looked at, especially in such a fear-inspired way, so she began. "What is your daughter's name?"
"Chasity Amber Benson," came the man's response.
The name was repeated in her head before she gave a dissatisfied snort. "We're you hoping for a stripper with that name?"
"Charlie!" Eleanor broke in sternly but the full weight of the question never hit the man before them, he stood appearing only confused by it.
Charlie gave Eleanor an innocent shrug before waving dismissively. "Give your information to Eleanor. I will have a private investigator look into it and if it warrants my attention, I shall certainly look into it. She is plenty capable of settling the problem of fair monetary compensation with you as well."
His bright smile and many words of thanks fell on deaf ears. Not one good at or used to accepting compliments or gratefulness, Charlie had immediately turned and stepped back into the office. She closed the door on the scene while he was still speaking regarding just how obliged he would be to the House. With the voice muffled by the door and in the safe confines of her office, Charlie took the opportunity to congratulate herself on the idea.
The House might as well pay for itself.
Crime: Domestic Violence
Part I - The House of Retribution, Old Market District. Present day.
Charlie Jericho sat behind her desk in the office she rarely used at the House with a concerned frown which deepened the more numbers she crunched. The House's accounting books were showing one common, overwhelming trend -- that of money seeping through its seams without haste. Nearly all of her pay checks from CDR were poured into this non-profit venture and, while she had many intangibles to show for it including a new found ability to sleep at night, the strain of keeping it running was beginning to wear on her financial purse strings.
Voices rose in the lobby and Charlie slid to her feet to approach the closed door to listen, anxious for any excuse to clear her mind of the doomed math. She found Eleanor engaged in one of her most common tasks -- attempting to convince someone that the House could not help with their problems. How word had gotten out that they might be able to help in such matters was beyond Charlie but nearly daily someone came by to beg that they determine whether or not a wife was cheating or to investigate the background of their children's new nanny. Each and everyone was politely declined.
This time it appeared the person with Eleanor was quite insistent. Charlie opened the door halfway and leaned her body aganinst the door frame. Eleanor sat sternly behind her desk, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose in frustration. A short, balding man stood in front of the desk with his hat in hand. He was dressed in the fashion and style of a local merchant of a respectable class and though the tone of his voice was grave there was no denying that the man had a kind, friendly air about him. To Charlie, one used to and talented at judging another's character immediately, the man passed all her tests. Both parties in the lobby were too thoroughly engaged in the debate to note her watching it.
"Miss, I need to speak with Ms. Charlie Jericho," the man continued as he wrung the hat in his hands.
Eleanor gave a firm shake of her head. "I am sorry, Sir, but that is simply not possible."
He gave a frustrated exhale. "You must listen to me. It's my daughter. This good for nothing man she's gotten herself wrapped up with has been beating her. She is only seventeen and will not leave him. I need help. I fear he will kill her. She is such a sweet, innocent, willing girl. My wife is a mess. I do not know what to do," his tone wavered with the impassionate plea. There was something in the father's loving, desperate petitions and the daughter's situation that caused even Charlie Jericho to hurt for him.
"Mister...."
"Benson," the man responded.
Eleanor gave a nod of her head. "Yes. Well, Mr. Benson, this office is for charity work. We do not do such jobs as you are asking."
"I can pay. I am a man of means," Mr. Benson stated urgently. For a brief moment, Charlie was sure that had Eleanor asked for all the man had, he would hand it over if only for a chance at securing his daughter's safety.
"The lady you ask for is not even present," Eleanor lied, hoping to dismiss his hopes with that.
Charlie cleared her throat to announce her presence, swinging the door open the rest of the way and stepping fully into the lobby. Eleanor coughed as her lie was revealed as such but Mr. Benson was much more interested in the owner to be cross with Eleanor. There was a brief pause as his dark eyes swept over Charlie as if wondering if the woman he had heard so much of could really handle the task. While there was nothing specific in her wavy long blonde hair, unpenetrable green eyes, and lean but athletic form that specifically pointed her to being a killer, there was no denying that the air around her crackled with danger.
She was in no mood to be looked at, especially in such a fear-inspired way, so she began. "What is your daughter's name?"
"Chasity Amber Benson," came the man's response.
The name was repeated in her head before she gave a dissatisfied snort. "We're you hoping for a stripper with that name?"
"Charlie!" Eleanor broke in sternly but the full weight of the question never hit the man before them, he stood appearing only confused by it.
Charlie gave Eleanor an innocent shrug before waving dismissively. "Give your information to Eleanor. I will have a private investigator look into it and if it warrants my attention, I shall certainly look into it. She is plenty capable of settling the problem of fair monetary compensation with you as well."
His bright smile and many words of thanks fell on deaf ears. Not one good at or used to accepting compliments or gratefulness, Charlie had immediately turned and stepped back into the office. She closed the door on the scene while he was still speaking regarding just how obliged he would be to the House. With the voice muffled by the door and in the safe confines of her office, Charlie took the opportunity to congratulate herself on the idea.
The House might as well pay for itself.
Last edited by Charlie Nausikaa on Sat Mar 11, 2006 7:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Target #1: William Gray
Crime: Domestic Violence
Part II - Port Martha, Talsiny. 17 years prior.
The door to the cottage slammed shut and Charlotte Ann Brown's green eyes popped open. Sleep was immediately banished. She lay silently and motionlessly in her bed, listening for any further sounds coming from outside the room. A wicked wind was blowing from off the ocean and the whistling from outside made her nerves worse.
There was the sound of something thumping from near the hall followed by a male's voice cursing heavily. Immediately after Charlotte hurried scurrying from beside her. "Charlotte?" came a timid voice as its owner began to slip into Charlotte's bed.
"Shh, Mary," Charlotte quietly and gently shushed her six year old cousin. The smaller girl did as she was told, clinging tightly to Charlotte as she buried herself in the covers.
A woman's voice was suddenly heard in the hallway. "Charlie, come to bed. You will wake the girls."
Mary cringed against Charlotte as the man's drunk voice rose angrily. "Wake the girls? Wake the girls? Who gives a crap about those sniveling, whiny girls?"
"You don't mean that," came Charlotte's aunt's response but it sounded more like a plea than she truly believed he did not mean what he said.
Her aunt and uncle were in their room now. Drawers were being opened and slammed. Mary pressed her face into Charlotte's shoulder and to ease the younger girl's tension, Charlotte began softly humming what had been her father's favorite Talsinian lullaby. "Where the hell is my letter opener, Suzette? What the hell did you do with it?" he growled ominously from the other side of the thin wall which Charlotte's bed was pushed up against.
Aunt Suzette gave a shriek as she was perhaps grabbed or pushed or something of the sort. "I- I don't k-know. Why do you need it now, Charlie?" she cried.
"I don't need to explain myself to you!" he shouted in outrage. That was all it took when he was drunk. Suddenly her aunt was sobbing and desperately pleading for her Uncle Charles not to hurt her. Nothing seemed to work.
As his fist first hit flesh, Mary gave a stifled cry into Charlotte's shoulder. Charlotte merely rubbed her back and began to hum a bit louder. Mary had to stay quiet. If they caught his attention, he would turn his temper on them as well. Then, as usually happened, Charlotte would have to incite his temper to keep him concentrated on her and off Mary. The welts from the bite of his belt against her back suddenly stung once more as if in reminder that she must keep Mary quiet and calm.
The beating went on. The sobs and cries continued on. It seemed like all night to the two petrified girls but eventually Charles grew bored and too tired to continue with the task. With a deep grunt, he dropped onto his feather bed to pass out. As the tension in the small house slowly eased, Mary too fell asleep against Charlotte and only she was left to listen to her aunt's stifled sobs.
In that bitter and lonely moment, the eight year old formed an opinion that she would be hard pressed to ever denounce. Charlotte pulled Mary tightly to her in a hug and whispered in the sleeping girl's ear, "Men cannot possibly be the work of God. They always die and leave you or they beat you until you wish for them to leave."
Crime: Domestic Violence
Part II - Port Martha, Talsiny. 17 years prior.
The door to the cottage slammed shut and Charlotte Ann Brown's green eyes popped open. Sleep was immediately banished. She lay silently and motionlessly in her bed, listening for any further sounds coming from outside the room. A wicked wind was blowing from off the ocean and the whistling from outside made her nerves worse.
There was the sound of something thumping from near the hall followed by a male's voice cursing heavily. Immediately after Charlotte hurried scurrying from beside her. "Charlotte?" came a timid voice as its owner began to slip into Charlotte's bed.
"Shh, Mary," Charlotte quietly and gently shushed her six year old cousin. The smaller girl did as she was told, clinging tightly to Charlotte as she buried herself in the covers.
A woman's voice was suddenly heard in the hallway. "Charlie, come to bed. You will wake the girls."
Mary cringed against Charlotte as the man's drunk voice rose angrily. "Wake the girls? Wake the girls? Who gives a crap about those sniveling, whiny girls?"
"You don't mean that," came Charlotte's aunt's response but it sounded more like a plea than she truly believed he did not mean what he said.
Her aunt and uncle were in their room now. Drawers were being opened and slammed. Mary pressed her face into Charlotte's shoulder and to ease the younger girl's tension, Charlotte began softly humming what had been her father's favorite Talsinian lullaby. "Where the hell is my letter opener, Suzette? What the hell did you do with it?" he growled ominously from the other side of the thin wall which Charlotte's bed was pushed up against.
Aunt Suzette gave a shriek as she was perhaps grabbed or pushed or something of the sort. "I- I don't k-know. Why do you need it now, Charlie?" she cried.
"I don't need to explain myself to you!" he shouted in outrage. That was all it took when he was drunk. Suddenly her aunt was sobbing and desperately pleading for her Uncle Charles not to hurt her. Nothing seemed to work.
As his fist first hit flesh, Mary gave a stifled cry into Charlotte's shoulder. Charlotte merely rubbed her back and began to hum a bit louder. Mary had to stay quiet. If they caught his attention, he would turn his temper on them as well. Then, as usually happened, Charlotte would have to incite his temper to keep him concentrated on her and off Mary. The welts from the bite of his belt against her back suddenly stung once more as if in reminder that she must keep Mary quiet and calm.
The beating went on. The sobs and cries continued on. It seemed like all night to the two petrified girls but eventually Charles grew bored and too tired to continue with the task. With a deep grunt, he dropped onto his feather bed to pass out. As the tension in the small house slowly eased, Mary too fell asleep against Charlotte and only she was left to listen to her aunt's stifled sobs.
In that bitter and lonely moment, the eight year old formed an opinion that she would be hard pressed to ever denounce. Charlotte pulled Mary tightly to her in a hug and whispered in the sleeping girl's ear, "Men cannot possibly be the work of God. They always die and leave you or they beat you until you wish for them to leave."
-
Charlie Nausikaa
- Adventurer
- Posts: 145
- Joined: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:10 am
- Location: House of Retribution in the Old Market District of RhyDin
Target #1: William Gray
Crime: Domestic Violence
Part III - Old Temple District, RhyDin. Present day.
Although her childhood may help explain the following seventeen years of murdering and debauchery that followed, it by no means excuses it. Charlie Jericho was no heroine. She would be the first to persuade anyone against taking up such an idea.
Therefore, it was not with any great concern for Chasity Benson or her father that Charlie waited outside in the cold dark night outside the pub that William Gray preferred. It was primarily for monetary reasons. Mr. Benson offered cash.
At least that is what Charlie continued to insist to herself.
A dark knit cap was pulled down over her head tightly, helping to trap in the heat. She leaned against the brick building opposite of the noisy pub with one boot against the bricks. Her hands were stuffed into the depths of her coat pockets and her shoulders pushed upward to help bury her neck and half her face in the warm wool coat. As the night grew late, slowly but surely, drunks stumbled off. Some of them did not make it far from the alley before passing out or at least losing part of what they had drank.
About two hours after midnight, a rowdy brawl within the bar spilled out into the alley as the bouncer shoved the unruly instigator out without trouble. The instigator pointed a finger back at the bouncer and shouted several obscenities. The bouncer had enough experience with such men to simply ignore the insults and move back to his position inside the bar. The drunk man ousted cursed softly and began away from the bar in quite a temper.
There's was no doubt about it. This was William Gray.
Charlie pushed herself from her position and began to follow after at a distance. William Gray headed for him home several blocks away, kicking and cursing at whatever came into his path. Charlie pushed off the nagging dread that if she did not intervene now the same fate would fall upon the young Benson girl. However, she continued on silently. She had not planned on making a move tonight but to simply watch.
A large black and white alley cat changed all of that. It had slinked out from behind a box as it spotted William Gray. The man represented attention and possible food to the cold cat. He meowed up at William Gray who came to a complete halt and glowered down at the cat. With a bitter snarl, he booted the cat out of his way and continued on. The cat yelped helplessly and immediately slipped back to the safety of the cardboard boxes.
That was enough for Charlie. She pursed her lips and gave a low whistle. The man stopped in his tracks and spun to face her. The corners of his lips rose in the proud snarl once more. He watched hungrily as Charlie slowly strolled towards him. Her boots echoed against the cooblestone as she moved within arm's reach. When she finally came to a stop, she remained silent as her sharp green eyes gave him the once over.
The snarl never faltered. "You like what you see, girly?"
Charlie finally gave an amused snort at the question, pulling her hands free of her coat to rub them together. "Are you William Gray?"
The man's eyes narrowed and the snarl grew colder. "Who wants to know?"
"Your savior."
William's drunken mind was now quickly attempting to sober itself to get a handle on the situation. The woman in front of him somehow knew his name and in this city, you never knew when someone was out to end your life. "What the hell do you want?" he growled angrily.
Charlie gave a bored roll of her eyes. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to satisfy her desire for biting reportree with this man, she moved to the meat of the conversation. "You will leave RhyDin tonight."
William gave a hearty laugh at the woman's audacity. "Like hell I will."
Before he even recognized that a fist was coming towards his nose, he was doubled over in pain and clutching his bleeding nose. Almost immediately, a boot heel slammed into his back in a downward axe kick and the momentum caused him to be pushed down on his stomach. While writhing on the ground in pain, a second kick drove the air from his lungs and just as he began to gasp it back in, a third kick to the gut caused him to have to renew his effort once more.
The blows didn't constitute a fight. Taken by surprise, the drunkard never had a chance. This was simply a beating.
Just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. William finally filled his lungs enough to groan painfully. He lifted his head to assure himself that his attacker was gone but his hope was banished when he spotted the athletic woman standing above him with a stern frown. Her hands dropped and grabbed his coat by the shoulders, lifting him roughly to his feet.
"You will leave RhyDin tonight," Charlie stated again.
"W-why? Who are you?" William asked after spitting out a mouthful of blood to the side.
The darkness on the woman's face was dangerous. A fight was raging inside of her. She could kill the man. Nobody would care. Her bottom jaw tightened as her glare grew more intense. "I am a friend of the Benson girl and I don't appreciate the way you have been treating her."
Stunned silence followed. His wide brown eyes watched Charlie in fear. She threw his body roughly up against the wall. "We're going to pray for God to forgive you now," she announced.
He gave a wince as he leaned up against the brick building for support. "I don't believe in God," he replied.
That drew another stern frown from the angry woman. "Put your hands together," she demanded. Too much in pain and still too drunk to fight back, William obeyed. Stunned, he watched the dangerous woman bow her head and begin to pray for the soul of the man she had just violently beaten.
"God, please forgive Your wayward child. Encompass him in Your splendor so that he can no longer deny Your existence. Hold him in Your loving arms so that he too may know Your mercy."
The woman's voice was quiet and calm. All William could do was listen and watch. When she lifted her green eyes to him once more, the inner fight had ended. She had picked her path. "You will leave RhyDin. If you should return to the Benson girl, you will force me to kill you. Turn to your Lord. Admit your sins. Start a new life elsewhere."
William rubbed a scruffy cheek with his palm as he watched the woman rise to her full height. Locks of sandy blonde hair had escaped her knit cap in the attack and now framed her statuesque features. For a moment William believe that he was looking at the face of an angel but then he caught sight on her eyes. Burning anger boiled just beneath the depths of her sharp green eyes. If she was an angel, she was the messenger of a very angry God.
The pain radiating from the blows was nearly forgotten in his total fixation on his attacker... or his savior as she had called herself. Tucking her bloodied hands into her pockets, she turned and headed away from her victim.
William watched until she was fully swallowed up in darkness. Then he unsteadily rose to his feet and took the quickest path out of the city.
Crime: Domestic Violence
Part III - Old Temple District, RhyDin. Present day.
Although her childhood may help explain the following seventeen years of murdering and debauchery that followed, it by no means excuses it. Charlie Jericho was no heroine. She would be the first to persuade anyone against taking up such an idea.
Therefore, it was not with any great concern for Chasity Benson or her father that Charlie waited outside in the cold dark night outside the pub that William Gray preferred. It was primarily for monetary reasons. Mr. Benson offered cash.
At least that is what Charlie continued to insist to herself.
A dark knit cap was pulled down over her head tightly, helping to trap in the heat. She leaned against the brick building opposite of the noisy pub with one boot against the bricks. Her hands were stuffed into the depths of her coat pockets and her shoulders pushed upward to help bury her neck and half her face in the warm wool coat. As the night grew late, slowly but surely, drunks stumbled off. Some of them did not make it far from the alley before passing out or at least losing part of what they had drank.
About two hours after midnight, a rowdy brawl within the bar spilled out into the alley as the bouncer shoved the unruly instigator out without trouble. The instigator pointed a finger back at the bouncer and shouted several obscenities. The bouncer had enough experience with such men to simply ignore the insults and move back to his position inside the bar. The drunk man ousted cursed softly and began away from the bar in quite a temper.
There's was no doubt about it. This was William Gray.
Charlie pushed herself from her position and began to follow after at a distance. William Gray headed for him home several blocks away, kicking and cursing at whatever came into his path. Charlie pushed off the nagging dread that if she did not intervene now the same fate would fall upon the young Benson girl. However, she continued on silently. She had not planned on making a move tonight but to simply watch.
A large black and white alley cat changed all of that. It had slinked out from behind a box as it spotted William Gray. The man represented attention and possible food to the cold cat. He meowed up at William Gray who came to a complete halt and glowered down at the cat. With a bitter snarl, he booted the cat out of his way and continued on. The cat yelped helplessly and immediately slipped back to the safety of the cardboard boxes.
That was enough for Charlie. She pursed her lips and gave a low whistle. The man stopped in his tracks and spun to face her. The corners of his lips rose in the proud snarl once more. He watched hungrily as Charlie slowly strolled towards him. Her boots echoed against the cooblestone as she moved within arm's reach. When she finally came to a stop, she remained silent as her sharp green eyes gave him the once over.
The snarl never faltered. "You like what you see, girly?"
Charlie finally gave an amused snort at the question, pulling her hands free of her coat to rub them together. "Are you William Gray?"
The man's eyes narrowed and the snarl grew colder. "Who wants to know?"
"Your savior."
William's drunken mind was now quickly attempting to sober itself to get a handle on the situation. The woman in front of him somehow knew his name and in this city, you never knew when someone was out to end your life. "What the hell do you want?" he growled angrily.
Charlie gave a bored roll of her eyes. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to satisfy her desire for biting reportree with this man, she moved to the meat of the conversation. "You will leave RhyDin tonight."
William gave a hearty laugh at the woman's audacity. "Like hell I will."
Before he even recognized that a fist was coming towards his nose, he was doubled over in pain and clutching his bleeding nose. Almost immediately, a boot heel slammed into his back in a downward axe kick and the momentum caused him to be pushed down on his stomach. While writhing on the ground in pain, a second kick drove the air from his lungs and just as he began to gasp it back in, a third kick to the gut caused him to have to renew his effort once more.
The blows didn't constitute a fight. Taken by surprise, the drunkard never had a chance. This was simply a beating.
Just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. William finally filled his lungs enough to groan painfully. He lifted his head to assure himself that his attacker was gone but his hope was banished when he spotted the athletic woman standing above him with a stern frown. Her hands dropped and grabbed his coat by the shoulders, lifting him roughly to his feet.
"You will leave RhyDin tonight," Charlie stated again.
"W-why? Who are you?" William asked after spitting out a mouthful of blood to the side.
The darkness on the woman's face was dangerous. A fight was raging inside of her. She could kill the man. Nobody would care. Her bottom jaw tightened as her glare grew more intense. "I am a friend of the Benson girl and I don't appreciate the way you have been treating her."
Stunned silence followed. His wide brown eyes watched Charlie in fear. She threw his body roughly up against the wall. "We're going to pray for God to forgive you now," she announced.
He gave a wince as he leaned up against the brick building for support. "I don't believe in God," he replied.
That drew another stern frown from the angry woman. "Put your hands together," she demanded. Too much in pain and still too drunk to fight back, William obeyed. Stunned, he watched the dangerous woman bow her head and begin to pray for the soul of the man she had just violently beaten.
"God, please forgive Your wayward child. Encompass him in Your splendor so that he can no longer deny Your existence. Hold him in Your loving arms so that he too may know Your mercy."
The woman's voice was quiet and calm. All William could do was listen and watch. When she lifted her green eyes to him once more, the inner fight had ended. She had picked her path. "You will leave RhyDin. If you should return to the Benson girl, you will force me to kill you. Turn to your Lord. Admit your sins. Start a new life elsewhere."
William rubbed a scruffy cheek with his palm as he watched the woman rise to her full height. Locks of sandy blonde hair had escaped her knit cap in the attack and now framed her statuesque features. For a moment William believe that he was looking at the face of an angel but then he caught sight on her eyes. Burning anger boiled just beneath the depths of her sharp green eyes. If she was an angel, she was the messenger of a very angry God.
The pain radiating from the blows was nearly forgotten in his total fixation on his attacker... or his savior as she had called herself. Tucking her bloodied hands into her pockets, she turned and headed away from her victim.
William watched until she was fully swallowed up in darkness. Then he unsteadily rose to his feet and took the quickest path out of the city.
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest