14477/Cry Havoc and Let Slip the Cats of War!!!

Cry Havoc and Let Slip the Cats of War		!
Date of Scene:	22 March 2023
Location:	Happy Harbor Waterfront
Synopsis:	The Dapper Men run afoul of Joan and are not quite as dapper now.
Cast of Characters:	Joan Wright, Thomas Blake, Lisa molinari

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Joan Wright has posed:
Well, isn't this nice?

If one were to ask Joan such a question she would likely state the answer to be 'No'. No it isn't. As for why she would say this? Well in a general recap, she had been getting ready for work when work sent her a text message telling her to report elsewhere for an emergency. So, She showed up. And no one from work was there. Just more from the walk of life that the idiots Gaston and Alphonse came from.

So now here she sits, situated smack dab in the center of a relatively new warehouse, hands handcuffed to a chair. While the thought of just standing up and waddling out of the establishment while strapped to the chair did occur to her. The presence of the guns quelled that thought.

But at least they did get her the promised coffee. And while it was technically morning and not the normal time to take part in it. When they brought the dumplings from that store she liked? Well- she wasn't going to turn that down.

It seems they've learned from the other pair's mishaps.

And so Joan sits in her bright construction attire.

Unfortunately the gray straps that were used for places to hold her pouches and pockets? Those are resting in a pile a ways from her, along with that nice white hard hat.

Stomach full, she's left to sit in the silence, just glancing around the dimly lit building, keeping an eye out for any notable broken pieces lying about. There's little luck in that endeavour.

Hmmph. They've learned TOO well.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Activating Kordsys Recovery App... B10. Bailey the Bot returns to awareness. Motion sensors, EMF scans and thermographs are made. The image recognition systems are slower to reboot. Then she realizes a... data check... Panthera tigris altaica is regarding her with green sage eyes.

Bots can't have heart attacks but... Bailey comes close then does a half a hop into Thomas Blake's lap.

Human! Human? Is he one of them... Bailey's logic systems are a marvel. No. The bad guys were dressed. This man wears a leather jacket but is bare chested and...

Bailey suddenly realizes she's hetero.

"Get the fuck off me you crazy... I'm being attacked by a Roomba from a drag show! Hey... SIT." Thomas draws on his big cat training skills and Bailey sits, performing several image captures for later Lego applications.

Thomas returns to driving and trying to speak on his phone. "Yes... I'm calling about a coat I need to wear for an evening out. Well actually, right now. Tell them to call me back."

For what it's worth, I am trying to locate your employer. I don't suppose you could help me with this?"

Help! Sure Bailey wants to say! Maybe her next upgrade with cover speech. The little bot reaches out, taps the burger van's GPS and a trail to Joan appears. Why yes she has a tracker. Doesn't your human? They do get lost.

Meanwhile in a valuable new warehouse a very dapper gentlemen goes to Joan and sit near her. "How do you do Ms. Wright? Terribly sorry about this. If you'd just cooperate we'll see about getting you home. We really want Blake. You are incidental. I'm Armand, forgive my manners."

Lisa molinari has posed:
Coat of Arms makes herself available for moments like this. The eccentric (polite way of saying probably off her rocker) artist was fascinated with the superhuman condition. Heroes and villains were the subject of the vast majority of her work, making social commentary on the world through the use of their imagery.

She's very, very good. The art world has taken notice.

But most of her experiences were incidental. As a bystander at best. She longed to get in on the action... so when the call came? She dropped the brush she was holding (well, more accurately, stuffed it in one of the pockets of her coat), jotted down the number with another hand, and started dialing. She didn't need to arm herself. The coat was her armory.

"This is Coat of Arms. Make it worth my while." she speaks plainly. Straight to business, apparantly.

Joan Wright has posed:
As dapper gentleman #2615 pulls up a chair to sit nearby, the architect looks over to the now named Armand. Being that he did ask how she was doing, she does feel the need to respond with an answer and a question of her won.

"I was doing better yesterday. And now I'm wondering if I'm going to have a job when I get back. So, less than great." The voice while pleasant has an edge to the tone that most know to be the 'I'm FiiiIIiiiine' tone that is used when instead they are quashing the urge to kill or go off the deep end.

Are we sure the handcuffs are enough?

The question soon follows. "Who is Blake?"

Man, when Joan represses a memory, she REALLY represses a memory.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake pulls over to take the call. "Excellent I need to attend a private function with about a dozen other men. You'd help me get a young lady home. These people are no names. I'll handle them. You just need to get in, get out with the lady. Okay, meet us at the Mallwarehouse in ten."

He gives the bot a look. "You're pretty handy to have around...Bailey!?" He reads a little name tag the robot holds up, "I see, your name is Bailey and... you prefer the pronouns 'she/her' and you use MS or Mac?"

Armand peers at Joan closely. "Madam, sources in Alchemax insist you were present when someone calling themselves Catman broke in and terminated two of my Dapper Men -Alphonse and Gaston. I intend to exact justice for them. I require you to identify this man for me as he runs to your rescue."

Lisa molinari has posed:
She had to break a few speed limits to make it to the meeting point in time. Borrow a taxi cab. Laws. They were a problem for the phelbians of the world, not for her. It would factor into her demands for payment when the time came, but she had to assume that in a situation like this, where time was of the essence, payment would be discussed after the fact.

Granted, she had particular ideas in mind for just how she wanted to be rewarded for services rendered, but that, again, another time, another place.

So she stands waiting, looking... for the most part rather mundane, if dressed in all black with red accents. No mask. No attempts to conceal herself. Only two arms showing. One of them holds a video camera, which casually sways from side to side to watch for the arrival of the man whose voice was on the other end of that phone call.

Joan Wright has posed:
As Armand explains the connection the architect has with Joan gives Armand a blank look. "...Alchemax?" She frowns. "...I did have an appointment there at one point for a consult but it was cancelled. No one called to reschedule. Are you sure they weren't mistaken?"

VERY repressed.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake emerges from the van. Or someone like him. Barechested, pants too tight and part of a track suit labeled 'Juicy.' The jacket seems authentic. The tiger, very authentic. The little flying bot is seriously off the cat brand. Regardless he slips the metal lion mask over his face as he explains, "I had to get dressed in a hurry. Okay double standard rates for the rush job. I'll make it triple if you go to the door and distract them to let us get in. The tiger is Rasputin. He is not pet-able. I'm assuming homicide is xtra but I don't want that. I live around here."

Armand gets up and looks likely to slap Joan for a moment. He relents. "Perhaps seeing his corpse will jog your memory. Understand, this is going to happen. We're quite sure this is the man."

Lisa molinari has posed:
Click. The little red light on the camera goes on with little fanfare, and the young woman in Tiboro's Coat moves into action.

"It's fine." Lisa replies. "I document the asset recovery." A third hand appears to point at the camera. "I'll blur your face if you want, but not the mask." The mask is art. The mask is core to her works. A fourth appears to point at it. "...and after the job's done, you pose for a portrait." Pause. "With Rasputin. That's the deal, take it or leave it."

Without giving time to answer, Coat of Arms is back in motion. Making her way towards the door without hesitation, camera moving up to her face to better look through the viewfinder of the hand-held. Yes, she likes a classic model. It's one of several that she keeps in her possession.

Then she knocks. With her free hand, which quickly dives back down into a pocket. Because she's back down to two. Waiting for the door to open.

When she's greeted, she plasters a wide, even manic smile across her lips. "Hi there, friends!" Out comes one hand, holding a pocket-sized copy of the Book of Mormon. "Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord an--"

The response is angry. "Get lost, bimbo!"

Lisa cocks her head to the other side, still smiling. "Ooh. I'm sorry. That's the wrong answer!"

Without warning, and with two arms still held up and in plain view, two more manifest. One holds a bowie knife. The other a meat cleaver. Both weapons strike forward to drive into the poor fellows that just answered the door...

...if Thomas is watching, though, she'll notice she's avoiding vital parts of the anatomy. Well. Vital for continued survival, anyways.

Joan Wright has posed:
As Armand gets up, Joan watches the man move. When his posture suggests a less than pleasant response to her failing to recall the situation. Her brows lift. When he shifts back, her posture relaxes slightly. Well, as much as being handcuffed to a chair will allow.

The cautioning of the planned murder doesn't do much to lessen the frown. "...Does it really have to happen? Couldn't you just have a talk about this? This seems like a lot for a firing."

Wait a minute...

Joan hmms. "...I think I missed something. But- it is hard to think with all these guns around and handcuffed to this." She lifts up her hands, clinking the chain against the frame.

As there is the sound of someone calling someone a bimbo coming from elsewhere in the building, Joan turns her head. "Just HOW many people did you kidnap? And what they said was quite rude."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Bailey is forgotten in all this. Well screw those humans. She was designed for search and rescue. The Creator said so. the little bot flashes up into the air and to the roof of the warehouse. Ah, the ubiquitous skylight. Bailey settles into position and fires her thrusters. The glass half melts, half shatters as the Kord Co Demo Model descends in a whirlwind of glass and light, beeping angrily. Yeah, she needs a mouth. As she descends she sees the female display extra arms, ah, an upgrade!

She's more surprised by Catman and the tiger crashing through a back door. The tiger bowls one man over. Another flees, a thirds gets a throwing blade in the shoulder.

Coat might note that Thomas and Rasputin are indeed a work of art in themselves.

Lisa molinari has posed:
Stab! Punch! Chop! Push aside. Clean blades on their clothes as they fall. Can't have the metal getting rusted on such fine weapons. It's really handy when you have six (when did the other two get here?) arms to work with. The book is shoved back into one of her pockets, and Coat moves to step carefully over the writhing bodies of the fallen men.

"Oh well. Have fun in Hell!" she chimes as she makes her way in through the front door. Her mission was simple enough, afterall. Get in, get the girl, get out. Get all the good footage she can. Savor the moments. One arm continues filming as she walks. A second withdraws a small, red, pyramid-shaped device from a pocket. Third and fourth dip back into her pockets and vanish, along with the Book. (Now) third and fourth continue to hold weapons at the ready. Trying to make her way through the more maze-like front of the warehouse... pushing open another door. "Avon calling!" A small room. Two goons. No girl. The door is shut again before they can properly react.

Joan Wright has posed:
Armand more or less gives Joan the silent treatment. But to be fair a lot of stuff is going on. People are getting stabbed by a multi-armed women, and a dagger throwing muscle man. Some unfortunate souls are getting partially mauled by a tiger. An admonishment from a woman currently handcuffed to a chair is hardly up there on the ranks of 'oh shit!'-dom.

With the distractions going on, Bailey's entrance is not noted except for the one with PLENTY of time to observe. And the sparkle of the broken glass and glass powder is definitely something to observe.

When the bot descends, Joan's forming smile grows stronger.

"If you didn't know already Bailey, you are amazing." Joan compliments the pink and blue bot.

There's a slight little chirp before the bot zips behind Joan, already working on the handcuffs.

While the bot works close to Joan, the architect looks once more to the broken glass. Fingers curling inwards save for one, she swirls the finger in a gentle spiral.

The glass pieces start lifting off the floor in anticipation.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake is among the men now who really don't look too dapper. His knives aren't even drawn. His fists and feet are doing the work. he abruptly realizes the men around him at least are cringing and begging for mercy. "Down, all of you... now keep in mind... I am not going to be messed with or that lady. If I even see a boutonneire near us... I am coming out of retirement to get all of you and I promise... you will envy your dead pals before I am done." He whispers this last to the cowering men. Then looks up to ready for the second wave.

The second readies their charge, over broken glass

Lisa molinari has posed:
Lisa, meanwhile, continues to make her way through... the door she'd shut behind her flings open and a couple more men come out, firing bullets!

...the bullets, however, rather than piercing the woman in the lovely coat, hit a suddenly glowing red forcefield and fall harmlessly to the floor. Without missing a stride, Lisa waves the cleaver and an empty fifth hand points back at their fallen comrades. They take the hint and flee, likely working to drag their wounded comrades behind them.

Eventually, she /does/ come across the bound (and likely about to be unbound) Joan. "Gonna guess you're the damsel in distress," comes the voice with a Jersey accent. "You ready to blow this place?" Pause. "Not literally. I didn't bring grenades."

She can see the little bot working on the cuffs. It's probably a bit safer to let the machine do her thing rather than try using the cleaver to part them, instead. She gets the feeling Catman wanted the girl home in one piece, afterall.

Joan Wright has posed:
Unknowing of the danger below them as they tred across the field of glass. Joan is quiet. This men are quite obviously getting ready to cause harm to that mostly shirtless man over th-

...

Huh. He does look familiar.

Several of the second wave start moving away from the glass, leaving a few less people on them.

Right! People on the attack.

With a flick of her hand the glass goes shooting upwards, uncaring of the persons standing between it and the spot it had been freed from. Once the glass goes back into place, the finger twitches down once more, causing for the glass to go flying right back to where they had been resting. The finger flicks back up. And down. And up...

Bailey undoes one of the cuffs, giving a bit of a chirp.

Joan doesn't need her phone to know what the robot said and stands up, the handcuffs loosely dangling from one of her wrists. That can be taken care of once they're away from the people with guns.

As Lisa comes up to greet her, the architect turns, dropping her hand, and consequently the levitating glass one more time leading to a chorus of painful groans. Lisa gets a warm smile. "Yes please. I really, REALLY do not like these people."