And The Last

jesus_icon.png lea_icon.png rylie_icon.png terri_icon.png zan_icon.png

Where: ???

When: May 07, 2012; Morning

What:: La Vida Mala gets their point across.

It's been a somewhat benign kidnapping so far, really. Beyond being kept in a small room, frequently drugged and on a leash — of sorts. They've been fed and left in tact. It's something, at least.

However, today seems to mark a change in the itinerary.

When Zan comes to, he's in a different room, concrete this time, no carpet, no windows and no fellow captives. And he's tied to a chair, which is probably the most foreboding realization. In his line o sight, a rather good looking woman stands against a wall, an apple in one hand and a knife in the other. It's too big and threatening for the job of peeling, but that's the task it's on right now, peeling the apple in one long strip. Lea isn't seen too often out on the streets, being the number two of this operation and having the privilege of not having to get her hands directly dirty. That's what she has the grunts and thugs of La Vida Mala for. And since she and Zan aren't alone in the room, it must be one of them here with her.

Waking up itself is always a little disconcerting, the lingering haze from sedation leaving a wet wool feeling over coherency that has to be shaken off. Which is what Zan begins to do, head slowly moving side to side to clear it when he realizes he's sitting upright and no longer slumped against a wall. It's unnerving, aiding awareness into settling more quickly into place, giving him a chance to take in the new surroundings, process that Things Are Different.

How different comes as a surprise as he realizes how much has changed. Surprise quickly gives way to a spike of fear when he finds himself not only in a chair but tied to it. Zan takes a steadying breath, for all the good it might do, and pulls experimentally against the bonds. His gaze comes up with the attempt, nervous, likely expecting more drugs to come find him just for trying anything. And instead, he finds an unknown woman peeling an apple. With a rather large knife.

"Morning sunshine," Lea says, her tones bordering on a purr and a Spanish accent's last legs clinging to her words. She doesn't stop her peeling, the red skin dangling down in front of her. There is no refresh of the drugs currently wearing off, which is new, and a little worrisome, too. They want him awake and sharp.

"So you're our little bug. I don't see what all the fuzz is about, but the boys insist you've been getting in the way of some very sensitive operations." It's… one way to refer to gang activity, anyway. "So they called me to come ask you nicely to forget about us. So how 'bout it?"

"Is it morning," Zan asks, giving another test to his restraints. Just his arms, muscles tensing though he does little else. His eyes continue to follow the knife as it cuts over the apple, dry tongue darting out to dab at equally dry lips. His head shakes at her accusations and question, eyes narrowing slightly before taking focus on Lea again. "Don't know what you're talking about. I didn't get in the way of anything and I don't even know who us is."

"It was last I checked," Lea says, twisting her arm enough to look at what is, frankly, a ridiculously expensive watch. "Yep, still am." The simple luxury of knowing the time, taken for granted. Or maybe she's just trying to make him feel bad. She takes in a breath at his answer, though, and lets it out on a sigh. "I thought you might say something like that. Don't worry, I brought along a friend who is very good at convincing people. Leaves an impression." There's just a slight nod before she goes back to her peeling.

An open palm rockets against his face, sending pain shuddering down the college students head, neck, then spine. "Hello Pendejo. Speak nicer to the lady hey. Less attitude. Before I see the need to re-arrange it for you." Out of the corner of his eyes he can see an arm, lean and wirey but muscle. Coated in tattoo'd skin. Lots. of tattoo's.

For a brief moment, Zan actually feels a flicker of relief. Being told it's morning is far more than he's gleaned, than any of them had gleaned in information, since being taken. It's gone in an instant when news that she brought a friend to this meet-and-greet is revealed. He nearly glances around to take further stock of the room, locate the other body supposedly lurking nearby. If he had, the boy might have been able to see it coming instead of getting blindsided by a sudden open-handed slap.

Zan's head reels from the impact, a beat passing before he rights himself and gives his head another slow shake. "What?" The question is uttered just as he catches sight of the arm that likely dealt the blow. "Seriously. I don't know what you're talking about."

Letting the sting set in, Lea leaves her focus on her apple in the wake of the slap. It's only when the peel falls to the ground at her feet that she looks up again. "Oh, it's just a little matter of you interfering in our…" she pauses to suck a breath in through her teeth, "…corrective action." Her smile, when it follows, is too pretty for someone in her vocation. No tattoos or visible scars, she doesn't quite fit in with the gang crowd. "Which is, all in all, a very bad idea. Where is any organization without a little discipline? And then, it seems like a couple of our employees of the month just don't like you. But that's just a bonus."

"Corrective…" Zan stares at Lea, working to place what exactly she's talking about. "You're with them," he says quietly, though his words come out with small certainty. Could be a bad accusation if he's wrong. "That's what this is about? This whole… " He'd gesticulate if he weren't confined to a chair, to indicate the room and situation in general. "Because I decided to do something about your mutts beating up on a guy? What about the others? I'm not agreeing to anything unless you let them go."

"You could say I'm with them. But upper management. You see, our work is a delicate set of steps, cause and effect and when people throw a wrench, well… it throws off the whole system. We don't usually like our system being throw off." Lea gives another nod to the tattooed arm behind him, an presumably the man attached to it.

But even with the signal given, she keeps going, like she thinks Zan will be able to pay attention while he's getting their special brand of attention. "The others? Oh, yes, well. I can't possibly let them go, they're all so charming. And since I don't give in to demands. Stubborn that way. But, if you'd like to see them…" She lifts a shoulder as she takes a bite out of her apple.

"Keep it up, nene," she says to the man behind Zan, "See if he's more cooperative when he's tasting his own blood."

"What the lady wants, the lady gets" The tattoo'd man behind Zan concedes, even as on the tail of those words, he's moving around the chair to in front of him. "Poner los cojones encima de la mesa" The last word drawn out as the bald headed and heavily tattoo'd man smiles and lets loose with a punch to Zan's middle, not attempting to pull it. It's followed by a slight uppercut to hide nose - bones crunch, it's broken, that's for sure - and he steps back to survey the start of his handiwork, looking to Lea for approval.

Despite knowing it's coming, there's little in the way of preparing to absorb the strikes. Zan can tense some, though he's still doubled over as much as he's allowed when he's struck once. His eyes squeeze shut and a breath is just being sucked in when his head snaps back from the second strike, blood following and tears coming to his eyes. A groan follows and he tips forward a little. He pulls in a shaking breath and forces his eyes to open and finally come to focus on Lea. "They don't have anything to do with my stepping in," he says, gaze dropping again while he gives his head a small shake. "Let them go. They're not part of it."

Lea's smile tilts just a little suggestively when her thug looks over her way. "I do love to watch you work," she says, and a little shiver seems to run through her spine. She pauses long enough to take another bite, just watching and looking mostly amused when Zan addresses her. "They're part of this if I say they are. And I say they are. You don't need to know why or how or when or even where. You just need to understand there are certain tragedies in this city no hero can step in and stop. Unless he wants to learn just how far the sinners go in this town." Which seems to be what Zan is supposed to be leanring right now?

"I don't think He's showing you enough Respect Miha" He comments, prowling around Zan, sucking on a silver colored capped canine before tilting his head to look at her then back to Zan. "You should not look the lady in the eye Cabron. Little flies that buzz around in our business" He gets up close, imitating a fly before snapping out a quick punch and moving his head away. 'They don't get to look my Miha in the face." Another fist lashes out, swift and hard to the side of his ribs.

"If I'm going to hell," Zan says, head coming up a little, "I'm interested to know where…" The rest is cut off with the man's fist cracking into the side of his head. He lets out a pained sound which, in turn, is cut off as knuckles slam into his ribs. His jaw tightens slightly, eyes squeezing closed, breath coming ragged through clenched teeth. "Think getting me to stop anything's going to keep your work from being interrupted?" The question comes after a long moment, quiet and shaking.

Lea's smile turns more cruel when she looks over at Zan this time, and she pauses her little friend with a simple gesture of her hand. And she strides over to put her hands on the arms of Zan's chair. To whisper. "We're all going to hell, pendejo, it's just a matter of which car you're in." That smile widens, but the cruelty remains as she straightens up again, fingers moving to straighten her sleeves. "I'm willing to test the theory."

As she says that, though, the door bangs open. Two more members of the gang enter, each with their own little package. The first trails Terri along with her, a vice grip on the detective's arm as she shoves and yanks and pushes her into the room and into a chair of her own. The drugs are still making her a bit groggy, but she can feel them starting to fade, her mind getting slowly clearer. But, unfortunately not before she finds herself tied to a chair of her own, facing Zan from the other side of the room.

It was bad enough to be woken up. It was worse to be drug to her feet and pushed and prodded along like cattle by the girl brings her into the room. "Whaat?" Word is slurred, and she blinks against the lights. Something different this time around. Forced into a seat, her head clearing slowly, she frowns only to look down as she tries to lift a hand to brush her hair back from her face, finding arms tied down. Looking up, hse peers across to Zan, taking in the injuries showing thus far. If her head wasn't clear then, it is now.

A second one is bringing in Rylie, his own grip on the younger womans arm just as rough, jerking her along as she goes and roughly shoving her into another chair, starting the process of securing her to it while she's still no coherent enough to really resist. The bald man smiles, roughly taking Zan's face, squeezing his jaw with one hand. "Do you see the pretty little things there my friend" There's another punch to his middle, never letting go of Zan's face. "You disrespect and talk your mouth off like a little baby. So maybe we try something else eh?" He roughly lets go of Zan before heading over to Rylie. A wave of his hand at the man who's finishing securing her, and it's an open faced palm to Rylie's face. "Wake up little lamb."

One eye stays open enough to allow Zan to watch the proceedings, his jaw clenching as Terri is brought in. That narrow-eyed gaze slants back to Lea, still in defiance though he remains silent. He half pulls his face away from the hand that grips it until his gaze finds Rylie being brought in next. Hate fills in alongside defiance, shuttered briefly as another pained grunt is forced out of him as the bald man's fist sinks into his gut again. He's slower to straighten himself this time, all efforts of resistance shifting course when the man goes to slap the younger woman. "No," he yells out, harsh with a resurgence of his earlier fear.

"Ladies! So good to see you. We thought you could help us persuade our little hero to take up some other hobby," Lea says, turning to take in everyone in the room now that it's a grander number. She moves over to hop up on a spare crate, apparently planning to watch.

The girl in front of Terri doesn't seem to be one for words, but she does a little flare of her fingers, possibly to show off a few rings that reside there at the moment, before curling them into fists. Terri's first blow comes to her gut, and for all that her assaulter is just a girl, she packs a punch. Likely has to, to survive around here.

Rylie's head starts to tip back, only to get grabbed by an unfamiliar hand. She looks a little bleary when she opens her eyes, and there's a delay before she's able to take it all in. "Oh god, you guys are really fucked up." The words slip out before she really thinks it over, more than likely.

There's nothing to be said by Terri who's taken in the scenario and figured out what's about to happen now. Looking to the girl who flares her hands, the cop waits for what will come, her breath hissing out as the punch comes to her gut, leaving her to bend forwards as if that might help her against the ache that will soon come. She won't lip back to Lea or the handlers, gaze to take in Zan and Rylie before once more checking out those in the room with them.

Jesus - Because ironically that's his name - points to himself when Rylie speaks up. "Me. You're referring to me? Or to your little friend? Because your little friend is fucked up Miha. He seems to think that he can stick his nose in anywhere" He looks to Zan, a toothy grin as he grabs Rylie by her hair, yanking her head back and licking up the side of her face till he's near her ear and lowers his voice to a whisper. "I think we should show the Cabron what happens to his friends when they do what we tell them to do"

Not once does he take his eyes off Zan, even as he reachs up, closing his hand around her throat and applying pressure, skin dimpling white around his fingers as he starts to choke her.

"Stop," Zan starts at the woman who hits Terri, starting to look in askance of Lea. But once again it's that bald man who demands his attention. Anger flares up again, arms tensing as though maybe this time he'll be able to get out of the ropes. Who knows, after all the times he's been hit, maybe they loosened some. "Stop," comes out more loudly at Rylie's treatment. His whole body strains against the chair and the ropes, trying to get free or pull the attention back to himself. "Leave her alone! Please, I'll …whatever it is! Just stop!"

"Actually, I meant you and your— " Rylie cuts off when he yanks her back by her hair, but it's the lick up her face that has her cringing and trying to lean away. A whimper falls out of her, clearly not a girl prepared for this sort of scenario. Her eyes squeeze shut, like she could make it all disappear if she wished hard enough. Or maybe she just doesn't want to look at any of the others at the moment.

Zan's words get Lea's attention and she tilts her head as she looks over at him. "Maybe I should have had them in from the beginning, hmm?" She doesn't stop the others, not right away, though, which leaves Terri on the receiving end of three more quick hits to her stomach and ribs. The women in the room seem unbothered by the treatment Rylie gets, not a qualm. But Lea's attention is on Zan, like she's forgotten the others are there. "But how to be sure, hmm? That you're not just telling a girl what she wants to hear. I understand you men are good at that sort of thing."

Terri frowns enough when she looks over to see the man choking Rylie, the scene bothering her as well. Yet, before she might speak up herself, the three punches coming, the girl certainly not a lightweight with her fists. Breath is knocked out of her, ribs bruised, the cop unable to dodge anything tied to the chair then. Left panting a little, hands to fist as she struggles against the rope, she glares at the girl before her, and might well be including Lea in that as well.

"What's that Pendejo? You need to speak up, I'm a little deaf in one ear you know" Gesturing with a finger to his one ear, even as his fingers tighten around Rylie's throat more, cutting off air completely. "I'd hate for one of your little lambs here to get hurt because you can't speak up" Jesus juts his chin out at Zan before turning his gaze to Rylie and smiling. "Oh, I'm so jealous" The last word draws out. "What I wouldn't give for an hour with this one. She seems sweet"

Kicking, thrashing against his bonds however he's able, the chair has got to move somehow unless it's bolted to the floor. A glance goes to Lea, passing Terri and her assailant briefly while Zan tries to get his chair over and knocked into the bald man. Or between him and Rylie. "Enough," he yells, desperation putting a hoarse note into his voice. "Get off her! You want me out of your business, fine! Just leave her out of it!"

Rylie's wrists strain against her ropes as instinct has her trying to pry the hand off her throat. Unfortunately, all she can do is struggle against the chair and Jesus, which only makes that hand around her throat a little worse. But his words are what gets a tear rolling down her cheek between fruitless gasps for air.

When Zan knocks his chair over, it hits against the back of Jesus' legs, but before the bald man can respond to the hit, Lea stands up and snaps her fingers. It makes the girl hitting Terri halt mid-punch and straighten. She takes a moment to smile at the detective, but it's an unsettling expression at best.

Lea strides over to Zan's chair, crouching down to see him and be seen better. Her knife stabs into the side of the arm, hair's width from his hand. "Alright, little bug. I'll take you at your word for now. But understand, if you fuck with us, we know just where to go to fuck with you, too. Don't we?" Her gaze slides over to Rylie's chair, and to Terri's as well, but it's the younger girl who looks the most scared that gets a wink from her.

Terri will be glad that the woman is halted. At least her ribs will thank her later. As for the look offered to her, the cop stares blankly back at the woman. Mentally, she's likely cursing Zan showing such weakness, but will not comment. Yet. A glance is given to Rylie, then to the downed Zan as Lea makes her way over to him, watching as she speaks to him.

Lea's snap keeps Jesus from reaching over and backhanding Zan.

It also gives Rylie reprieve from his hand as the man lets go, leaning in to snap his teeth just milimeters away from the young woman and backing off to come stand behind Lea. He crosses his arms at his chest, head tilted up and looking down his nose at the trio.

It worked a little better than expected, and Zan braces for impact when the chair tilts precariously enough to crash into the floor. He braces again for retaliation, already wincing in anticipation of a blow that doesn't come. His eyes tilt upward, one open and angling to look up at Lea when she draws close enough to be seen. He nearly flinches when the knife bites into the arm just beside his hand, keeping the wariness firmly in his expression. The boy doesn't say a thing, his expression likely says it all, he's definitely learned one lesson tonight, whose is yet to be determined. But maybe it's enough to keep them all alive so they can get out.

"Good," Lea says as she stands up and yanks the knife out of the chair. It's slid somewhat carelessly into her back pocket as she turns toward Jesus and fellow ruffian. "Get them back to their room. Give them a little time to think things over." She starts to head for the door herself, pulling it open before she turns to add, "You don't have to be nice about it." Which is… comforting.

Rylie takes in a deep, ragged breath as soon as the hand is off her, but it's quickly followed by a jerk when he snaps at her. She still doesn't look at the others, but they can see her trying to blink away tears.

Terri's minder doesn't hesitate to start untying her, although she does end up tying her hands together before she starts yanking her toward the door. It isn't nice, but only because the jerks irritate her sore ribs. Which is probably the point.

Untied, Terri does not try to be any sort of hero, though she frowns as her wrists end up tied before her, the rope used as a leash to jerk her to her feet. There's a hiss from the cop as she's led off, ribs most certainly irritated by the way the girl handles her.

One of the nameless thugs enter, starts to deal with getting Zan up and on his feet with a few punches to ensure that the college kid stays docile and doesn't have the energy or inclination to start any trouble. His hands secured the same as with Terri in front of him. Jesus is taking his sweet time with Rylie. Whispering in her ear - things that neither can hear from where they are - But it's surely not good, handling her roughly, Securing her hands and a fistful of hair to direct where she needs to be moving, keeping behind Zan and his captor in case there's trouble.

There's little in the name of fighting back from Zan. He's mostly on the defensive, trying to keep bruises and breaks from gaining any more damage. That's his only real struggle as his wrists are tied again and he's hauled to his feet. He hardly makes it fully upright before pain protests loudly enough that he keeps himself hunched. He practically allows himself to be goaded along however roughly, mostly watching Terri and her handler's backs with the occasional worried glance behind cast to Jesus and Rylie.

Terri offers the brief glance to Zan and Rylie before she's tugged forwards, listening as they're both pulled up eventually to follow suit. She'll wait till their back in the room to figure out if either is hurt. Wincing with the ache in her gut and ribs, she stumbles once, but catches herself when the girl tugs a little harder than normal upon the rope. She'll at least try and take note now that she's not still coming out of drugs of where they are, any hallways or doors or ways out.

Rylie is not comfortable. When Zan looks back her way, she meets his gaze for a second, letting the others catch from her disgusted and frightened expression just what sort of whispers are going into her ear. It doesn't last, as Zan's guide reaches over to slap an already bruised face and yank him further along.

Terri gets a air idea of the layout and can piece together that they're in some sort of converted warehouse from the way the building is put together. But in the end, all three are unceremoniously tossed back into their room, the door shut behind them. With no window to help them, and no one bothering to turn lights on just now, it's hard to tell if Lea was telling Zan the truth about it being morning. It's just dark.


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