Layla's Vice
Fires burned in every direction. Lasers streamed overhead. Paul stayed low and desperately clutched Da Vinci's Notebook to his chest. He still had no idea what exactly was happening, but at least the Vice's weren't trying to kill him… Anymore. That, at least, gave him little choice but to trust them here.
Despite the things the two could do, Mrs. Vice insisted that they couldn't use their stands to fight the Brotherhood. Not yet. Not if there was some other option. Paul thought that a bit odd, but apparently the knights couldn't see the flowing shadows that would knock away any lasers too close.
Jonathan led the way, showing considerably less restraint than his mother. Whenever someone got a bit too close, Paul watched his stand fly forward and throw them back with a punch. Paul would have felt bad, but knew that this was restrained when compared to earlier.
Even in the chaos, Paul couldn't keep his mind from racing. What was going on? Why was everyone being affected like this? What by? And why was the Brotherhood shooting everyone on sight?!
Questions for later. For now, the only question that mattered was how they were all going to escape this mess. The main entrance the limo had driven through was now swarming with knights in power armor. No chance to charge through them. But all over the benches of the old field walls, lasers poured down toward them. Paul desperately tore through his memories of town, trying to think of anything of value.
For some reason, he thought of Wrigleyton Radio. He wasn't sure why. Something a customer, Kaleb, had told him. Kaleb ran jobs for… Some less reputable people in town. Usually involving scaving, stealing, or making chems like Calmex or Daytripper. Paul learned most of what he knew of gun repairs doing work for him. Why was he thinking of this now?
Then it clicked. Of course! An interesting note Kaleb oft let slip was that he brought Livia Lawson much of the news she ran. So, to help him with finding those stories - and perchance some chems - Livia had a tunnel running from the Radio building to a basement outside the town wall. If they could just make it to that… On the other side of the field… Perfect.
In a groggy, aching haze, Livia made her way through the streets of Wrigley Field. She had gotten away from the initial explosions and fires, but now she was struggling. Standing had been quite the challenge at first. Now, she could maintain a stagger with her Shanxi drawn. The crowd was all over, but thinning. The town was spinning, but the lasers kept her focused on moving. If she could just make it to the Radio building.
But… What had happened? She'd woken up on a bench, head aching and extremely cold despite her scarf and lengthy sleeves. All she remembered was being thrown from someone. Her old notepad had been destroyed in the fires. But none of that mattered now.
All that mattered was getting through all these lasers, all these knights, to her station. She could escape! She knew, or perhaps hoped, that Kaleb would take the same way out. Two guns were better than one.
She opted to leave the streets, escaping the open field. She dove through open doorways and broken windows, making a steady path forward. Strangely enough, diving through the town with a strange hangover trying to escape some form of authority was not an entirely new thing for Livia. As she rushed through the town, Livia tried to force herself back to her clear minded self.
She started with trying to work out the separate players in the cacophony outside. The stomping of power armored feet all over. Lasers cracking and smashing all over. But… These thuds. She swore she could hear the sounds of bodies hitting walls. Equally bizarre were the constant high speed smacks. Livia dreaded to think it, but… It was possible that one or more of the town muties had been made aggressive by whatever had happened.
She counted herself beyond lucky to have safely made her way back to the station. Less so to see that the entrance to the tunnel was still sealed. The rusted metal locker before it hadn't been touched. She holstered her pistol, and surveyed the rest of the room. Her furniture was strewn about the floor, and a beam had come through the roof. A small fire convinced her to finish her study and get out even faster.
Then the solid steel door shot off the hinges. A massive dent carried it away to the other end of the room, actually embedding itself into the wall. She nearly screamed, but ducked under her desk and drew her pistol. Expecting a Brotherhood Knight, Livia was surprised to see three people enter. Two were in fancy clean clothes, and one wore a dusty old grey coat. She recognized Paul instantly. The other two…
Wait, weren't those the Vices? She slipped slowly out from under the desk. "Paul? What's goi -"
She felt something collide with her, forcing the air from her lungs. She flew back into her filing cabinets. Her pistol had gone flying, and Livia gasped desperately for air. It didn't feel like her back was too bad. But… What the hell had hit her? None of the three had moved.
Paul rushed to right in front of her, turning back to the Vices. "Woah, woah! Jonathan, call him off!"
"Like hell! She was the first who attacked me!"
Livia's gaze shot between them both. The two continued yelling, but she was too busy focusing on standing. She opted to leave her pistol on the ground, in case the Vices decided she really was dangerous. Instead, the sounds of the Brotherhood urged her to rush and get away. She forced herself to her desk again, and felt along its side. Despite mostly being dazed, she was keenly aware of Paul standing awkwardly between her and the center of the room… Where neither of the Vices were standing. She pushed the button, and a thin opening slid open behind the locker.
Then… She must have collapsed. Strangely, before she allowed herself to slip away, someone caught her. But Paul stood behind her, unbent, and neither of the Vices were close enough. She was too far gone to think about it.
Commander Cosmo gently lifted Livia from the ground. Jonathan groaned. "Ugh. What a pain. Well, at least we got the tunnel open. Are you sure we should -" He turned to his mother, who shot him an icy glare.
"Right, right. I'll have the Commander carry her. You!" He pointed to this new stand user, Paul as Livia had called him. "Stay between us. That stand seems useless for combat."
He didn't give anything more than a nod, staring worriedly at Livia. His mother went first, Jet Black Dress feeling out the tunnel ahead of them. Paul followed, and Jonathan found himself taking up the rear. Thankfully, carrying Lawson was no problem for the Commander. The line continued down this tunnel in silence. Though the entrance had been narrow, and the drop had been harsh, it opened up to a comfortable width.
A tendril of his mother's stand found a second button in the tunnel, shutting the tunnel behind him. Hopefully the Brotherhood wouldn't work this out in time to find them. Similarly, he hoped no one would be waiting for them on the other end.
He really hoped he could be that lucky. But today wasn't the Vice's day.
Layla found the end of the tunnel a minute before she actually reached it. As she drew close to it, Jet Black Dress opened the door. Light streamed in, the quiet peace outside a welcoming sound. She clambered up the incline, her stand helping her in the climb. Paul yelped quietly as she wrapped a tendril around him to help him. She chuckled. Definitely not an enemy.
The tunnel opened up into a dusty decrepit basement. Small windows allowed some sun to warm the room. Rotted and torn books littered the room, spread out from a rotting old bookcase. The stone steps at least were in good shape. Layla hushed them as she crept forward. The Dress fanned out, slipping through cracks here and there in the walls and ceiling. She couldn't see through it, but she could feel. There was warm sun above them. It didn't seem like there was anything around. But Layla was always cautious.
Jonathan and Paul were close behind her. They followed her example and knelt as she went up the stairs. She opened the door, now viewing a blown out brick wall. It all seemed clear. She was slightly regretting having Jonathan carry Livia. The Commander made for a much better, and safer, scout.
But anything was better than Wrigley Field right now. Whatever this enemy stand was, it seemed like it wasn't made for direct combat. Otherwise the user would have confronted them. So she stepped out from the basement without hesitation. She stopped the two behind her and peered around.
"THERE SHE IS."
The words fell over her in a wave. Dust and rubble flew everywhere, and even Jet Black Dress was forced back. She was pushed along the floor as her ears rang and the air rushed by. The only thing strangely unaffected by the wind was a flowing white veil.
"ALMOST HAVE HER!"
Before she passed through the veil, she saw that the door to the basement had been thrown shut in the wind. Even more thankfully, a heavy wooden wardrobe was slowly sliding in front of it. Then, as she passed it, the air stopped. And the veil vanished.
"Hello, Mrs. Vice. Or, I suppose Ms. Vice now. My condolences. I know what will follow will make this hard to believe, but I'm not one who likes causing pain. I promise. I'll make this quick."
Paul reeled from the sound, on his back as his head pounded. Jonathan was with him, though it seemed almost like he was faring even worse. His stand had vanished, leaving Livia on the floor. Paul figured it may have been worse for him. Maybe he could hear with his stand? Would that make the sound doubly effective? Is that how this worked? Paul wasn't entirely sure, having only a notebook and a dress as his points of comparison.
In a minute or two, he finally could hear. It was quiet again. He could at least hear his own thoughts. But Jonathan was still doubled over. The sound may have actually helped Livia, rousing her from a deep rest. Paul rushed over to her, gently shaking her after leaning her against a wall.
"Livia? Livia, are you okay?"
Her eyes fluttered slightly. "I… Ugh… Yeah, I'm… Better at least. Paul? What happened? I just remember the Vices and… Why are you holding a notebook?"
He sighed in relief. "Thank God. I was seriously worried about… Wait… I thought... You can see my stand?"
She squinted, raising a hand to her head. "I - What? Paul, what are you talking about? A stand? What does that mean?"
Clearly, Jonathan was hearing again. "Oh hell no! I knew it!" Within a second, the starry figure erupted from him in a defensive stance.
"No more of Van Lundholm's tricks! She must be the enemy stand user!"
She glared straight at Jonathan, right through the figure. "Alright, I'm done asking questions. I don't know what either of you are going off about, but I'm done waiting for answers that aren't coming. Are we…?"
She looked around quickly, nodding to herself. "Good, we're out. Then I am off. Paul… I think maybe you might talk. So you can stick around if you want. I need to find Kaleb."
Jonathan looked a bit pissed, but realizing she couldn't see his stand, he begrudgingly relaxed his shoulders and withdrew it. Paul silently breathed a sigh of relief. He followed Livia as she made her way to the door. She twisted the knob, and tried to open it. But it didn't budge even slightly. Paul thought to offer to try, but Livia shot him a glance insuring he'd leave her to it.
She tried a minute more. Before Jonathan stepped a bit closer. "Seriously… What a pain. Stand aside… Um, pun unintended."
On cue, the stand erupted and threw one punch at the door. It and the wardrobe behind it splintered. Livia screamed and stepped back. Jonathan brushed by, looking around. "Lawson, you're not leaving. Not until we find my mother. We have no idea what's going on for sure, and if we want to be safe, we -"
He stopped, staring to a room on his left. Paul crept up toward him, shooting a glance into the room. There, on the tattered carpet and ancient wood floor, was the mangled and torn up body of Layla Vice. Scratched into the wall behind her, in carvings and dried red, was the single word: "Thief".
