5339/The Right Path

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The Right Path
Date of Scene: 25 February 2021
Location: A Tenant in the Bronx.
Synopsis: A young girl is saved by the interference of Bella and the heroics of Meggan. Meggan and Cinque stop a heroin operation tied to Boss Morgan that had taken over a tenant building in the Bronx. They rescued the workers insides, and freed the tenants.
Cast of Characters: Cinque Evers, Bella, Meggan Puceanu

Cinque Evers has posed:
Ten years from now, a young woman with dark brown skin heads to the podium to deliver her valedictory speech. She raises her hands up in the air ecstatic joy that can only be felt by those who overcome great obstacles, "My path here was arduous, and many times I thought I would give up, but I realize what started me on this path".

Present Day: One of the problems with gentrification is that it causes criminals to search for new territory, and this has led to some enterprising members of Boss Morgan?s crew to take over a 12 story tenant apartment to help run their heroin business. Those tenants who are unable to move have basically become hostages. Most of the guards are inside the building, except a few guards at the front and back doors in the building.

The operation inside is pretty complex for some stret level thugs. On a certain day each week, shipments of heroin are brought in, process, and deliver to dealers. The higher level dealers check into the vacant rooms to receive their product. If a person picks the right date, they can close down this operation and put a major dent in the heroin trade in the city. Today is such a day.

Bella has posed:
Some investigate crime openly, some are heroes out on the lookout accidentally stumbling on things by mistake. Sheer luck. Bella is neither of those, she's just a goth looking girl, minding her business and walking in the area, shades covering her eyes and a long brim hat. She's dressed in all blacks, and is rather well covered. She's also totally normal, and has nothing to do with anything, simply minding her business while taking a stroll about town.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Being a student of Columbia University doesn't make wandering the Bronx any more common than other boroughs, but it sure does when there's a rally in need of some star power to bring the media in. Meggan has spent the better part of the morning tied up with a group fighting for the protection of a local park and restoration of a brown site where once a factory stood, something to be turned over to the community rather than turned into another developer's dream. Having a girl with ties to the eco movement worldwide is a bump, especially when she lifts her camera and shows all those followers in six digits on social media what's going on.

Small victory, then, and something an empath like her can get a little high on, really. Nothing like the good spirits and the hope to buoy her as she ends up trekking entirely the wrong way because NYC is confusing as hell to navigate. Or because there's a deeper meaning, and she listens to nature when nature murmurs unease in her ear. She can't name the reason /why/, only that it's there.

Someone needs her, and thus she goes, following a non-linear path that dumps her deep into the Bronx. Wrong side for Morningside Heights, but it'll do. She isn't in any way evocative of a hero, but hero she is nonetheless, though hardly wearing any signs of it. An English girl in a tatty trench coat and a stolen man's button-down shirt is hardly frightening, is she?

Cinque Evers has posed:
Ten Years From Now: "I was tired of getting bullied for wearing clothes we got from church donation. I was tired of seeing my mother and father struggling to help my young siblings. So I decided to acquire work from the local drug dealers. One of them had been trying to slide into my DMS for years. He had another definition of work. The young woman pauses given her speech not for dramatic effect, but from the emotion that still is attached to the memory. "Long story short, I found myself at the front door of the tenant with a gun to my head, and having my phone taken away." The woman lifts her head to the heaven as she testifies, "That is when I saw her an English girl in a tatty trench coat and a stolen man's button-down shirt out of the corner of my eye."

Present day: It is hard to make out the entire situation, but one thing is for certain that a sixteen year old female is being accosted by the guards at the front door as they try to get her inside. A couple of them are keeping lookout for anyone who might come upon the scene. The drug dealers need workers to help process the heroin, and for entertainment. Young women are collected off the streets to help run this operation.

On top of the building, Cinque is his superguise has finally made it to the roof. Oletha takes a deep breath,

Cinque Evers has posed:
"That was way too much jumping, and climbing to get here. "Oletha attaches his grappling hook and swings in breaking a window, setting off a series of alarms. "That was not in my intel."

Bella has posed:
Being rather fearless, for reasons unbenknownst to most, Bella starts advancing towards the guard and the young woman at the front of the building, instead of away like most people would do. "Excuse me...but is the scary little girl giving you trouble? Do you need assistance?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Fear has a funny taste. It's distinct from everything else, and while it can be discussed in shades of yellow or like flavours of chocolate, the tang is unmistakable. Some know it as the accelerating heartbeat, the shaky breath. Some staggering feet on a pavement, dragged, all a song that could be heard as distress. For the blonde environmental activist, it's a colour and a hook in the mouth, a hard jerking pull she would be hard-pressed to ignore. Hands go deep in the pockets of her coat. She takes her steps lightly on the pocked sidewalk, carefully not to turn her ankle on any patches of ice or slush. Not that it's really much of an issue for she barely touches the ground at all, moving in a gliding step.

Bella is an anomaly who stands out for asking a question. She glances to the woman accosted, the drug dealers responsible for playing lookout. She's a child of streets rough as these in a way; might explain the way she keeps walking right on past the goth girl. Past the entry, until the lot of them are aligned on her left, and it's only then she decides to pause.

Totally necessary then and only then to stoop low, adjusting the laces on the shoes that barely serve as more than cheap sneakers. Tug here, drag there. It's the delay that counts for something, as she slowly counts off the emotional signatures for a general number of what, who.

Cinque Evers has posed:
Ten Years From Now: "Well, this is when the story gets a bit unbelievable" The valedictorian rests her hands on the podium as she leans in with a mischievous smirk on her face.

One of the guard quickly pulls out his gun and points it at the goth, "B**h!, if you don't get f*ck out of here! The guy who brought the young girl to the location is yelling, "Do you not hear those sirens! Everyone on the street is either goin? inside, goin? home, or goin? in bodybags! But it has to happen now!

The other guards take the cue, and go to confront the kneeling Meggan. The tallest one tells her,. "Either get out here, or get dead." While the short one looks her up and down, "Unless you lookin for work too?"

As the alarms continues to go off, Oletha twirls his guns as he bites the corner of lip, "I guess this is going to be the hard way

Bella has posed:
Bella only gives a mere glance towards Meggan as she walks past her, but then it's hard to tell with her big shades covering her eyes. Most of her attention remains very innocently aimed on the guard trying to bully the young woman.

"Wait, wait, waaaiiiitttt...." Bella grumbles, the disappointed in her voice quite notable, "are you trying to make it a problem between us, now? Are you saying that you've had enough of the little girl, and you want to ruin your day by getting in trouble with me?" She shakes her head and sighs in exasperation. "I was being nice, offering help, and here you are offending me...being rude, raising your voice...if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were challenging me to a duel!"

Pregnant pause, and then Bella stares right at the guard through her shades, unfortunately having to look up at him, "so...are you challenging the great Bellatrix Lestrange...Bella The Tempest! To a duel...? Do you hate living...?"

At this point, they may well take her for a goth on drugs, who knows. She certainly has penchant for theatrics, her delivery was on point, for a few centuries back, maybe.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meg is many things. Short is not one of them, nor waifish. The shirt's made for someone taller and leaner in some ways than her, and the trenchcoat definitely swallows her up. In effect, the ensemble gives a little bit of swagger, attitude enshrined by punk music and the slow lift of her chin.

"You really have no idea, do you? Bored, mate?" She cracks a smile, but cheeky, slippery sideways.

A straightening and then she's rising up, taking the stairs with a long-legged ease that doesn't quite touch down on the ground for more than an instant. Scorning the earth is fun.

The challenge to an actual duel from Bella is almost a laugh, a good bit of humour and then neglected for a moment or two. "I mean, if you think you could possibly handle me? You're fine to try." Holding her arms out to her sides shows she is unarmed, almost invites the lot of them not distracted by the goth girl or the sixteen-year-old. "But I don't know you're enough of a man. Go ahead, blokes, prove me wrong."

That golden and silver hair shines like brindled moonlight and starlight, ever so pretty. Especially with her laughing, her English accent thick as honey and careless as rose blossoms on the wind.

The air shudders, the ground murmurs. And then howls the wind.

Cinque Evers has posed:
"This crazy...wants the SMOKE!" The guard raises his gun as he savagely tries to pistol whip, Belle. The thug who was holding the girl quickly her to the ground, and holds his gun on the goth girl. "Just get her inside!"

The guards that approached Meggan take a few steps back as she stands and rises. They almost yell in unison, "What the F*ck!" Majority of the lookouts and guards raise their guns to fire on Meggan, except one who has enough sense to call for backout, "There is somethin' crazy going out here!
Inside the building, Oletha remembers the floor plan and throws some smoke bombs down the hallway as he moves to clear out the sixth and fifth floor.
A childish song sung in a haunting manner escapes from his lips, "I'm just a little black rain cloud hovering under the honey tree" He pauses to fire several rubber bullets at two approaching guards, before knocking them off by kicking them in the ribs. "I'm only a little black rain cloud. " Oletha jumps down the stairs, and tackles the two guards that are there.
He pulls a fire extinguisher off the wall and uses it as a club to defeat them as he continues to sing, "Pay no attention to little me." Oletha begins to engage in a shootout on the fourth floor, "Everyone knows that a rain cloud" Oletha throws some concussive bombs to give him some breathing room, "Never eats honey, no, not a nip. Oletha continues engages the guards inside, "I'm just floating around over the ground wondering where I will drip."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Just a blonde girl in a damn fine coat, one that's weathered worse than she might throw. She ought to be afraid of those guns, but her bright smile ignites on the teenager's kindled fear and the vampire's unflinching bravado. "The Bronx knows what you do to its children," she says casually. The wind picks up, swirling through the gaps in the buildings and answering the shrill alarm with the gale-force moan of its own. "It doesn't like it, I'd say. Listen for yourself."

Not that she stops, and those gunshots might just be going off. Maybe she should be afraid; maybe they don't pull before the pretty English rose draws her hand up in an arcing swing that invokes a wave of raw, elemental force to send them flying back. If that back happens only to be a few meters into walls and doors, so be it, but she means to clear them out the way the tide washes away sandcastles and footprints.

If someone listens over a phone, a radio, or whatnot, they'd probably just hear the door being kicked open. Concussive bursts overhead are enough to be concerning, but she has more immediate problems. Like, say, stamping fully on any gun in her vicinity with force enough to shatter the barrel, warp the metal, and leave them mostly useless.

Cinque Evers has posed:
The combination of the what is going on going at the front of the building, and what is going inside completely divides the forces. There is an overwhelming sense of fear coming from the bad guys, and not because of the urban cowboy, Oletha.

Dante "Cold Money" Brown is sitting dumbstruck at the damaged Meggan did outside to the guards. When he finally speaks, his voice is raise several octaves as fear overtakes, "What the F*ck?! His "Michael Jackson" voice causes a few raises eyebrows from the guards, until Dante deepens his voice and frantically pulls his gun on his own men, "F*ck, this ain't the sh*t we are supposed to deal with!" As beads of sweat peer down his brow, "Okay, secure the heroin! And...And..F*ck*" He point his gun away from his men, "If you not securing the heroin, try to stop her!"


The guards leave the room with their marching orders, but the ones in direct contant with Meggan are not really so brave. There are only a few that are trying to stop her.

As Dante "Cold Money" Brown tries to make his way to the heroin, Oletha makes his way to him still singing softly his Winnie Pooh.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
She can sympathise with them, truly. At some level, she shares their confusion, the terror. Realizing something bigger and badder surfaced up from the deep is a terrible thing and hence she moves by lightly. No greater harm done than tossing them aside and destroying their weapons rather thoroughly. Time bought at the expense of clearing other floors, but for the great vast majority of the people in this building, the only way out is down. They aren't jumping off the rooftops. They might well be sinuously weaving a path through the hallway for a fire exit, just more she has to cover.

"Cold Money" Brown isn't going to have a good day, though, not with that gun in place. Made to look weak and afraid, that can't be helpful in gang culture and what respect he grabs hold of with small calibre weapons might just lose him a grip on power.

The blonde tiptoeing down the hallway as the guards come marching out don't change her attitude much. She gestures past her, into the Bronx itself. "Leave your gun and go, I won't bother you none. Nae worth getting hurt over, is it?" The lilting accent carries shards of Gaelic and murmurs of Welsh behind the native English, an inheritance of the Lake District. The only indication that a scion of the Tuatha de Danaan moves among them, the fae girl holding up her hand palm out to the rest. If they try to shoot at her, then it's another matter altogether. No point of force, but swerving in a burst of horrifically quick motion to literally plow into them bodily. Drop a shoulder, smash at great speed: it's sort of a rugby move, but with velocity and great strength, she can use that maneuvering to her advantage to fling them off their feet again and suffer neither the building or random targets to be harmed.

Cinque Evers has posed:
Rubber bullets hit the guards and "Cold Money" Brown dropping them. Oletha kicks their guns out of the way and shouts, "Leave the heroin and free the people you got to process your drugs, or the next bullets are the ones that blow very big holes in your body. The two guards scamper to do just that. Oletha grabs "Cold Money" breaking his wrist, "I want you to know that I am going to let you live, because you are insignificant. Your boss is insignificant. You are the flies that float around shit! Disgusting and pathetic. Unaware of the harm you really do to others, because your brains are small.' Oletha knees him in the groin, "I want the person who your boss buys his heroin from. So either he gives that person to me, or every shipment of heroin that he buys I am going to bust. I think that I do that enough times he is going to be killed by his supplier." Oletha whispers in Cold Money's ear, "Now, I am going to take any petty cash and make sure that everyone is free, before leaving. When you wake up, I hope your lawyer gets the message to your boss." Oletha slams the guy head into the wall, knocking him out.

After Meggan easily rugby tackles a few guards into the adjacent, the rest of the guards run past her in terror. The two guards that were sent to free the girls that were processing the heroin even wave her towards where they keep the girls and the heroin. "We surrender! The girls and heroin are in here!"

When Meggan opens the door, she is greeted by cries of joys. In the corner, there is a 1000 kilos of processed and unproccessed heroin.

Ten years from now: "And that was how I was saved from a life of servitude by goth body guard and my fairy guardian angel. You never know who will put you on the right path, but once you are there, you need to run it.