4837/A Late Night Drive

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A Late Night Drive
Date of Scene: 23 January 2021
Location: The Streets of Brooklynn
Synopsis: Lyle and Sally Pride bond over a car chase. Promises of a future meeting are made
Cast of Characters: Lyle Marston, Sally Pride

Lyle Marston has posed:
It has been quite a while since your adventure in the manor of Judge Hemworth. Since that time Judge Hemworth had finally gotten arrested, thanks in part to the evidence you gathered with the help of one La Raton, a gentleman thief. The man had left behind a few things when he slipped off into the night, a rose, some money, and a pager. The pager of course, was to communicate with this new ally, but, so far, it had remained unused. Wherever this gentleman thief was, he clearly didn't need your help yet, but that would soon change.

From what research was available on this guy he appeared in 2019, alongside a novel called La Raton. This man was emulating the highwayman from the books, all the way down to the way he dressed. He had been behind quite a number of heists in the NYC area, often stealing from Crime Bosses, corrupt executives, and other scum of society. Him going after the Judge made more and more sense as you read what you could about this man. But, why he left you that pager to communicate was still a mystery, untill now.

It was a quiet night in the Mutaniaml's hideout, a quiet that was disrupted by the sounds of the pager beeping, a beeping that echoed across the hideout. If you were to read it, you would see a simplistic message that read


La Raton had finally decided he needed your help, and he appeared to be at some type of nightclub in Brooklynn

Sally Pride has posed:
When the thing started to bleep for attention it took a few moments to find where the device had been left and.. Forgotten wasn't the right word. Back of the mind? Yeah, that's more accurate. Since it had just laid dormant until that point. Sally peered at it a moment, not at the message, but trying to remember if the thing had some kind of 'message received' button on it. Ultimately she just stuffed it in a pocket, grabbed her jacket and took off.

Eventually the partially rebuilt muscle car pulled up on the opposite side of the street from the indicated address. Which had Sally squinting at it a bit more. One of the city nightclubs was not the sort of place she would be expecting the aspiring modern day Robin Hood to be messing around with, but whatever.

That thing about cats and curiousity probably applies to the big cats as well. And not like she'd been doing anything else other than puttering around tonight.

As she slipped out of the car Sally slid on her tinted aviator sunglasses like one of those 'cool people wear shades even at night' people (because it helps conceal her cat-like eyes) and pulled up the collar of her leather jacket. And then wondered if she was suppose to go in, or wait for the man of mystery to appear. The limited message space on the pager didn't specify...

Lyle Marston has posed:
The Nightclub, which was aptly named "The Serpent's Den", was one of the more "divey" clubs in Brooklynn. The place was rumored to be a front for a rather nasty Russian Mob family in Brighton Beach. Drugs and other ellicit objects were often traded through it's halls. Normally, a club like this would be very busy, especially this late at night. However, the club seemed to have closed early tonight. All the lights of the club were off, and it was eerily quiet as you got closer, not even the sounds of traffic could be heard. It was as if time froze around this club.

As you got closer and closer to the club, your keen feline hearing could picks slight sounds coming from the inside of the club. The sounds of scuffling feet, swearing, and the occasional gunshot and punch echoed across the club. Suddenly, the club's front door flies open, and two figures stumble out. The figure on top was a tall, heavyset man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. The man on the bottom was, of course, La Raton, all the way down to the familiar. The heavyset man was currently wailing on La Raton, unaware of your presence.

Sally Pride has posed:
At least the biker leather and outgrown side-flopped mohawk won't stand out in that kind of joint. Not that Sally gets to actually enter, as she has to sidestep the swinging doors and the duo stumbling out already mid-brawl. One is recognizable despite being partially hidden under the bulk of his assailant. The other is so busy being said assailant that he doesn't notice her presence.

At least not until she steps in and puts a suckerpunch in the side of the tackily clad man's face to knock him off.

Then crooks a faint smirk at Raton. "Does this count as fashionably late? Looks like you already started the party." The lioness' tail flicks as she resumes a street brawler stance with her fists up. Because where there's one goon there is never just -one- goon.

Lyle Marston has posed:
The heavyset man only has time to look up in surprise before getting suckerpunched. The man lets out a cry of pain and collapses onto the ground, unconcious and with his sunglasses lying broken nearby. Lyle gets up, groaning a bit and holding his cheek. He mutters a few swears in French before looking at you with a familiar, sly grin. He gives a polite bow and says,

"Ahh Mademosille. I am glad my pager still works. Be ready, I.. "appropriated" something from these men, and they are not happy about it."

As he said this, more yelling is heard from within the club as three more men rush out of it. One of the assailants, a tall, muscular man wearing a colorful polyester suit charges La Raton, who immediately gets into a combat stance and begins to trade blows with them. The other two assailants, a medium sized stocky man wearing a leather jacket and a tall, thing man clad in a blue shirt charge at Sally, swingingg their firsts.

Sally Pride has posed:
Of course the French thief would use a 'fancy' word like appropriated instead of something more typical. Still gets more of a wry grin out of the lioness. "Mafia? Cartel?" she hazards a guess, even as more angry men come storming out of the club as expected. "Yeah, I'd say 'not happy' is an understatement." She's a bit more chatty when they're not trying to play stealth mission around a highly guarded manor.

With his lithe build and longer reach the thin man gets to her first, jerking her head back as he puts his fist into her cheek... Then looks surprised as instead of ending up lying on the curb Sally hisses before turning back to him. Wiggles her jaw a little... then smiles to show her definitely not-human sharp teeth. "Really, two on one? That's terrible odds."

The next punch attempt she ducks though, grabbing the man's arm and twisting it behind his back. That partially puts him between her and his partner, and when the stockier fellow tries to step around he's met with a kick straight in the gut. "Terrible odds for you!" Which is followed by a bit of laughter as she gives the tall guy's arm another jerk. "I've always wanted to say that!"

Lyle Marston has posed:
As the stocky fellow collapses to the ground, holding his gut in pain, the thin man cries out as you tug on his arm some more. Meanwhile, Lyle is trading blows with his thug, and is landing more blows then him. As he continues to weave around the man's punches and throw punches back, Lyle grins slightly and says,

"Russian Mafia Mon Ami. They stole something important from a friend in Brighton Beach, I am merely returning it..

Suddenly, Lyle deleivers a nasty looking uppercut, toppling his goon over. Meanwhile, the skinny man in your grasp suddenly tries to throw a punch at you, swinging blindly towards you from the front

Sally Pride has posed:
Give the guy props for trying, but that's an awkward position to try and strike someone behind you from. Especially someone that has a level of military-esque combat training. Sally ducks lower than the haphazard punch, hooks her foot around one of his and shoves her weight into his backside while his awkward attempt has his balance offput. Enough to put him on the ground alongside his would-be partners.

"More retrieving things from people they don't belong to. Gotcha." Really all the explaination Sally needs. "I'd say you wore out your welcome already." She grabs the gentleman thief by the arm and books it back across the street. With the other hand she pulls keys from her jacket and hits the fob button.

The car's engine rumbles to life and the doors unlock. Then the doors pop themselves open as well. You have no idea how many seconds in a by the hair escape you can save by not having to manually open the doors.

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle grinned again and was about to say something, but only yelped out in surprise when Sally grabbed him by the arm and begin to rush across the street to the car. As Lyle rushed with Sally to the now activated Car, voices shouting out in Russian could be heard coming back from the club. Then, the bullets start flying, one narrowly whizzing over Lyle's head. Once Lyle got close enough, he dove into the back seat and slammed the door while shouting,

"Drive! Drive!"

Sally Pride has posed:
Sally Pride jumps in the driver side door, one hand on the shifter before her backside even hits the seat, the other slamming the door behind her. Then gripes the wheel as she puts it in gear and stomps the gas. The gunfire ringing behind them is briefly lost in to the squeel of tires and the blaring of horns as the muscle car roaring onto the street briefly cuts off traffic. There's likely plenty of cursing and whatnot going on back there, but what else is new in New York.

"Hmm." Sally glances at the dashboard clock. "Give 'em a few minutes to scramble after realizing you had a getaway driver, and we'll likely have company again. Doubt they're going to just let bygone be bygone."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle grunted from the back seat and begin to check himself over, looking for any wounds. Suddenly, more gunshots fill the air and Lyle swears as he peers out the open car window. There were three black sedans chasing after the car, each of them filled with rather angry looking gunmen. As Lyle began to return fire, he turned to Sally and said,

"Can you please try to lose them. I don't have much ammo left for a gunfight."

Sally Pride has posed:
"Dammit I just buffed the chrome too," Sally retorts at the gunshots in a tone that's more 'because this is something you say at a time like this to be witty' than 'actually upset'. It's hardly the first time she's had to rebuild some part of the car for more times than she can count. "Hold on."

A hard spin on the wheel and precision brake-gas pedalwork drifts the car around a corner and barely squeezing back into the lanes of traffic. "Well, yes. Losing them is optimal." Sally pulled the aviators, "But if you think I'm not prepared for a run-n-gun.." and reachs over to give the glovebox a thump to open it. Toss the sunglasses inside.

And pull out one of her backup blaster handguns. Instead of another witty remark she just holds it up for Lyle to see, then leans to the side to check the mirror on their pursuers. "They're probably gonna need some convincing to back off, even with my driving skills."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle grinned as he was handed the blaster pistol, obviously excited by this new toy. He immediately leans out of his window and begin s to fire back at the cars. Suddenly, a violent screeching noise is heard as one of the energy blast strikes the right front tire of the black sedan in the lead. Suddenly, the car starts to veer out of control, letting out more screeches as it did. Suddenly, it finally veered out of control, and smashed straight into an Italian bistro. La Raton lets out a small swear in French as he says,

"That restaurant was one of my favorites."

As La Raton continues to shoot at the mobsters, another black sedan suddenly comes zooming out of a nearby alley and attempts to ram into the right side of the car.

Sally Pride has posed:
This is why Sally took the aviator sunglasses off. They may look cool as heck wearing around even at night, but they're terrible for actual clarity of vision. If she had left them on she would of never seen that dark sedan in the alley.

She barely spots it exiting the obscured space as it is. She pumps the brakes hard, even though professional skill releases it'd be almost impossible to completely avoid a collision. "HANG ON!" Split-second decisions lead to hear veering hard on the wheel and the muscle car lurching violently as she swings it around. There's a crunch as the sedan takes off the passenger side mirror, sparks flying with hideous screeches as the two cars grind side-by-side. Arguably the cussing under Sally's breath is more horrific than the whail of metal against metal though.

As the two cars finish their little death race dance Sally heaves the wheel in the opposite direction and shifts into reverse. The car protests a bit but does as it's told, seperating from the sedan and donuting around to reorient itself. Immeadiately it's put back into drive and Sally hammers the gas back down to roar away. "I am going to have to completely retool the gearbox after all this."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Upon seeing he car about to ram into Sally's car, Lyle ducks down, shielding his head. He then visibly cringes as he hears the scraping noise. As the car starts to drive off in reverse, Lyle leans out the window and continues to fire at the enemy cars while saying,

"I am quite sorry Mademoiselle. I owe you big time for this. Perhaps I can take you out for lunch some time as a reward?"

This part is said with a sly smile as he fires at a nearby street sign, causing it to fall down. Suddenly, one of the mob cars drives over this sign, resulting in a nasty crunch as the car veers into a wall, totaling it.

Sally Pride has posed:
"That was a terrible spot for a sign anyways," Sally quips. Once the car is back forward again and roaring away she snorts softly. "Are you kidding, this is the most excitement I've had all week. You could almost call this a date as it is," she adds with a chuckle.

She leans a little to look in the remaining rear view mirror. "So, is there someplace I need to drop you off?" Pause. She makes a face. "Ugh, that sounded -so- cliche."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle grins slyly as they speed off, leaving all the other cars in the dust. He then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a silver cross necklace. As he examines it closely he says to Sally,

"The men you just outwitted work for a rather nasty Russian loan shark. He took this from a friend in mine after he couldn't pay back a debt, broke his wrist in the process."

Lyle then puts the necklace away and looks behind him, as if checking for any more vehicles. Luckily, it appeared that you lost them, for now. He then clears his throat and says, with a grin,

"I do not mind clichés Mademoiselle. In fact, sometimes I find them quite charming.. Drop me off at Morris and Kirkman, near that old Tobacco shop if you may.

Sally Pride has posed:
Once it appears they've got no farther pursuers Sally shifts down to normal city speeds, and melds back into the flow of traffic. Last thing they need now is to attract the attention of the actual cops or something.

"And here I thought they only did that in the action movies." She pauses, doing a mental check in her head. As best as she can without seeing how banged up the right side is, it's still going to take some work just by how it sounded. But it was better than getting T-Boned straight on, possibly crushing them both.

"M & K, got it... And I'm sure he'll appreciate you getting it back for him."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle smiles lightly at the comment and nods, silently agreeing. As the two continue to drive, La Raton starts to hum the French National Anthem to himself, before suddenly face-palming and letting out a swear in French. He then says,

"I was too busy handling those men to tell you this. But, how interested would you be in "Meeting" a NULL executive. Because, I have some dirt that you might be interesting in hearing." As he says this, he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a photo.

Sally Pride has posed:
A pierced ear twitchs at the mention of NULL and Sally's gaze shifts to look at Lyle in the rearview mirror from the corner of her vision field so she doesn't actually take her eyes off the road. "Define 'meeting'."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle smiles and places the photo where Sally could see it. It was a photo of a tall, lean, well-build Afro-Caribbean man wearing a neatly pressed suit and a pair of prescription glasses. He had a winning smile on his face, which was crowned by a set of pearly white teeth. In the photo, the man was accompanied by something odd, two Unicorns. One of the Unicorns, a regal. pitch-black one seemed to be nuzzling the man's cheeck, and the man in return was stroking it's the mane. The other one, a large stallion with the build of a Clydesdale was behind him giving his short, black hair a noogie. Underneath this photo was a caption that said,

EUGENE ALFRED- Henderson Marketing Director being visited by friends during the Henderson Shareholders Meeting.

Lyle sighed a bit before saying,

"Eugene Alfred is a Haitian businessman. He worked his way to the top of the Marketing Department of NULL years back, might've even met the ever illusive Madame Null. He jumped ship to Henderson recently. Henderson, if you don't know, is a toy company famous for creating My Precious Unicorn, as obvious by the photo. I am thinking that we could drop by and see what he knows about his former employers? There is a reason why he jumped ship so suddenly, and to Henderson of all places, didn't they repel a NULL corporate raid?"

Sally Pride has posed:
Sally Pride pulls into a turning lane and stops at the light, then takes advantage of the wait for the light to change to glance at the foot. "Looks like the typical stuffed suit... but if he managed to get -out- of NULL, that's... worth looking into." Her gaze turns back ahead. "That's not easy to do." Followed by a snort. "Plus, what would NULL have wanted with a toy company in the first place."

The light changes to green and she turns the intersection corner to get into the burough Lyle's designated point is in. "You should keep an eye on him until we can. They may be after him." A low snarl slips out between her teeth. "Null doesn't like -any-one leaving without her say."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle nods as they get closer and closer to his destination. Lyle continued to study the photo of the executive closely, as if taking in every detail of the man. He then says,

"I'll try my best. My contact claims that that Eugene has been acting very "jumpy" lately. The man seems to be stressed about something, I'll try to dig into it more. I just hope NULL doesn't try anything, Henderson does not deserve that kind of publicity.

As you pull into the street that Lyle requested, he leans forward to shake your hand while saying,

"Thank you again for such a lovely "date", hope to talk to you soon."

Date is said with a sly smile.

Sally Pride has posed:
"Trust me. He's got every reason to be jumpy." Sally pulls up to park at the curb. "He may be done with NULL, but they're likely not done with him..." She lets that hang a moment, then sighs as she sits back in her seat. "But if he's gotten in good with another company, they won't make a big scene out of it."

Then makes a wry smile of her own as she points a finger at the dashing thief. "This was more my speed for a date," ha ha car chase pun, "But I'll still take that dinner sometime."

Lyle Marston has posed:
Lyle nods at Sally warning and, almost noiselessly, climbs out of the car. He then turns to Sally and says with a grin when she accepts his offer for dinner,

"Thank you mademoiselle. I shall take you up on that acceptance as soon as possible. Thank you for your help tonight, I hope to see you again soon.

He then gives you a polite bow before taking off into the night, his form soon being consumed by the dark. However, if you were to take a peak in the backseat you would see that he had left you another gift. This time it was another rose, more money, and, oddly enough, a MPU doll. Underneath the doll however, was a slip of paper with a random phone number. Written underneath it was a sentence that read,