Chapter 12: Talking to Angels
Three days later, outside a warehouse in Saleen's abandoned district, 11AM…
Pulling up in a different vehicle than usual, Zom had temporarily traded up, arriving outside of a warehouse in Saleen's district with a black RAM truck. The four-door pickup truck being fitted with a matching camper top over its tailgate, this custom 'donation' was courtesy of Evalyn for the purpose of shuttling their soon-to-be-newest recruit with any form of stealth. Unfortunately not having this Ruby Taylor's exact measurements, particularly for her spider half, all they really did know was her status as a Large-Breed Arachne, meaning the requirements for the truck's tailgate were just 'really damn big'. Having arrived with most of the 'retrieval team' already rounded up, Zom's three ride-alongs waited in the truck while she went inside to fetch the last person.
"Hey, Aileen! You in here?!" Zom called out, pushing in through a creaky metal door off to the side of one of the big garage doors. Coated in random graffiti on the outside, the building had that same condemned, abandoned look as all the other warehouses in this district, which made it perfect as a storage place for the Venue. Saleen's 'home' warehouse and Salazar's garage being within walking distance, the whole region was like the Venue's metaphorical second heart, with the first being the club where people like Aderyn, Zom, Manako and Aileen/Ailsa were calling the back rooms home. The interior of this warehouse not being as fancy as Salazar's warehouse, the ground was just dull concrete with equally dull, monolithic metal shelves, but it got the job done well.
"Yeah, yeah, we're in here…whaddaya want?" Ailsa's voice called back, the use of 'we're' indicating Aileen was here, just not speaking. Following the sound of the Scottish Scylla's voice, the green-haired Zombie soon found the reason why as Aileen came into sight, propping a big wooden shipping crate on her shoulder. Probably heavy enough to crush Zom beneath it if it fell on her, the shipping crate got hauled on by atop the Irish Minotaur's right shoulder like it was made of cardboard. Setting it down atop some other, matching shipping containers, the crate made a decent thump, but still seemed like Aileen was handling the crates 'properly'.
"You weren't kiddin' about being a mover back in Ireland…what's in that thing anyway? Car parts for Evalyn?" Zom asked, only knowing that this was a mid-point for Venue supplies. Whatever it may be, from guns to ammo, car parts, bulk-ordered weapon parts, anything the Venue needed, it got sent here; after which some gang members that Saleen hand-picked had to crack the crates open and get the contents sent off to their final destinations. Aileen evidently being roped into that role, Ailsa was simply sat nearby with all her tentacles pulled in like the Scylla version of sitting cross-legged, writing something up on a clipboard. Aileen figuring it'd be easiest to show Zom the answer to her question, the Minotaur grabbed a crowbar and jammed it into the shipping crate, wrenching the top off after a little effort. Sliding the wooden top off to the side, the contents turned out to be a bulk-order of boxes of 7.62x39mm ammo. A big bulk-order of it.
"How fast do ya think you'll go through that? A week?" Aileen joked, knowing Zom favored the AKMS that fired this exact kind of ammo. Plenty of other Venue members using AKM rifles, usually ones with solid wooden stocks, this order of ammo was for general distribution, but it was fun to poke at the thought of just how fast Zom alone could use up this entire shipping crate's stock of bullets. Seeing the humor in it, Zom briefly thought back to what Smith said about the redheaded 'M.O.N. Zom' religiously preferring dual-wielding, and how it nearly doubled the amount of ammo M.O.N. had to buy for just one member. If I grabbed a second AKMS and went akimbo all the time, I probably could burn through that crate in a week…..
"Between both of us, I'd give it a week or two at most…so, is this shipment done? Saleen wanted me to come by and pull you off for that Arachne job. Y'know, the one in the fighting ring?" Zom tried to segue into why she was here, still slightly miffed by how similar she and Aileen were. Still having that parity of Zom's bomber jacket, tank top and black cargo pants to Aileen's leather jacket, matching shirt and dark green cargo shorts, it wasn't a matter of jealousy, just confusion at how two people could so effortlessly look and dress so similarly without planning it out.
"That Aussie chick, right? The shipment ain't done, but it's close….I figure, unless I lose an arm to her or damn near get my guts pulled out, I can come back and finish it after we're done. You already get everyone else rounded up?" Aileen asked, knocking the nails on the shipping crate's lid back down with a hammer to re-seal it before shouldering it once more. Looking to have a conversation mid-walk, the Minotaur strolled off to a section of the warehouse with a crude, all-caps 'AMMO' label denoting what one would find here. The 7.62x39 shelf thankfully being at around Aileen's upper-torso height, the Minotaur was able to slide it onto the shelf for later retrieval whenever a delivery truck shows up.
"Yep, already got Mana, Silver, and Silver's buddy Clarice waitin' in the truck outside. Mana's gonna tranq this Ruby girl when we find her, so we just have to give her a clear shot…and…..y'know, not get disembowled in the process like you said. Especially you not-dead people." Zom joked, taking a stab at how her undead nature meant, even if Ruby pulled her apart like a doll, Zom could just get put back together again so long as her head was intact. Not offended by the comment, Aileen did take the opportunity to pose a question that had been nagging at her since shortly after Vegas.
"At least I've got my heritage straight…dead or not, the hell kind of a mixed bag are you? Ya look like a white chick aside from that tiny green tint in your skin, but just the other day I heard ya say somethin' to Manako in Japanese. You some Japanese-born white chick, or just one'a those fancy 'bilingual' people?" Aileen wondered, no doubt seeing bilingual skill as a far-off concept due to the impact her migratory childhood must've had on academics. Probably not even speaking Irish Gaelic, the big Minotaur wasn't stupid per se, just not well-informed. Having a valid point regardless due to Zom's caucasian-looking eyes, it actually tied into her nose-stitches as well.
"Trust me, I'm Japanese, I just don't really look like it because…..eugh….." Zom hesitated, only going through with the explanation to keep Aileen from tossing out conjecture like 'You're wearing someone else's face'. "Early on when I was workin' for M.O.N., we had to contain a Centaur that was flippin' shit downtown. Didn't have a Host with them, and was just going nuts, so even though it wasn't a kill-order, we still got the job just for the sake of not sending half the police force to get trampled. My dumb ass got too comfortable with being dead, so I got behind her and thought I could jump on her back to get her in a chokehold, but she saw me coming….one Centaur hoof to the face later, and I wake up in a hospital bed lookin' like a white girl. According to Smith, I got kicked right between the eyes and went down like a brick."
"Oh…on a scale of 1 to Simo Häyhä, how bad was your face 'fore they fixed it up?" Aileen asked, going from jokingly on the 'attack' to feeling like she just mocked a cripple. Fortunately, even if just from seeing Aileen's sharp shift in tone, Zom wasn't bothered.
"It was….prettySimo judging by the pictures they showed me. I basically didn't havea nose at that point, and around my eyes looked like there were bits of bone poking through from that dumb horse compressing my fuckin' skull. They had to do so much restructuring, I practically had two halves of a nose stuck together just so I can breathe right, which is why I've got this big ol' line over my nose….seriously though, the pictures looked like the fugly lovechild of a bad plastic surgery catalog, a Himalayan cat, and roadkill. And that's an insult to roadkill." Zom self-roasted, showing that she was as Japanese as Japanese can get, she just had a smashed-in face to contend with. "Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if the mild brain damage I got diagnosed with was just because there's some little chunk of my skull still lodged in my brain from when I got kicked."
"Still, that's…..eugh. Not much gets to me, but the thought of havin' my face compressed like that is just….." Aileen failed to comment, unable to help shivering a second time at the thought of taking a Centaur hoof to the face. Wanting to make up for that, the Minotaur steered things back onto the bigger picture. "Seriously though, it's annoyin' as hell not knowin' what you said when ya talk in Japanese like that. So…..we gonna go get ourselves a big ol' spider?"
"はい後、。私は、外で待っているよ。(Yeah, after you. I'll be waiting outside.)" Zom answered in Japanese with a massively shameless shit-eating grin, earning an equally apparent 'You bitch!' stare from Aileen for doing the exactthing the Minotaur justsaid she hated. Walking off in a hurry, the troll-tastic little Zombie knew she'd pay for it later, but decided that was then and this was now.
"I'll be here…..actually finishin' my job instead of runnin' off to save drug-addled psychos. Bunch'a cheap slackin' dunderheids. (idiots)" Ailsa mumbled to herself in annoyance, still taking stock on that clipboard of how many crates of what came in with the latest shipment. Undeniably the smarter one between her and Aileen, the Scotswoman very quirkily used far more slang than Aileen did. Making the average-intellect Minotaur seem more well-spoken than the low-tier-genius Scylla, Ailsa knew how smart she was, and just didn't hold her tongue for the sake of looking smart as a result of that.
An hour later, just next to an alley in Galveston, Texas….
Pulling up just outside the alley to avoid being too obvious, their supposed target was a place with the lot number 3945, which should have a wide garage-door access somewhere in this alley. Going off Melik's 'stolen' police reports that he got from his partner Amelia, the building was a condemned lot that the Snakes turned into an illegal fighting pit, almost like a dog-fighting ring, only using drugged-up humans and Monsters that the gang kidnaps or buys from trafficking rings instead of using dogs. This Large-Breed Arachne supposedly being somewhere in the lower levels of the building, the first order of business was getting inside. Most of the five people getting out easy, their tallest member was having a slight problem.
"God-damn…..stupid fuckin' narrow-ass back-seat foot room." Aileen mumbled to herself, having made the incredibly poor decision of taking the back right seat next to Clarice and Silver, with Manako taking shotgun while Zom drove. Her long, clunky Minotaur legs running into some snags with the foot-room offered by the back-seat, Aileen swung her door open to try and get out before grabbing the little handle built into the interior roof of the truck. Pulling herself up with it to try and help in pulling her legs out, the Minotaur had a painfully sudden exit as she started to turn her back towards the door, after which the handle she hung from outright snapped off. Causing the Minotaur to fall right out the truck door back-first, it was a loud, clumsy, embarrassing fall as the Irish cow found herself face-up on the pavement with both legs still resting halfway inside the truck, as well as a highly amused Zom looking down at her.
"Having some trouble there?" Zom asked, hardly containing a smile when she noticed the dislodged handle in Aileen's hand. Probably not built to be a pull-up bar for a 200+lb. Minotaur, the handle breaking wasn't really a bad reflection on the quality of the truck, and instead just adding insult to injury on the topic of Aileen's awkward exit. Unfortunately, the Minotaur wasn't laughing.
"Next time, I get shotgun….damned back seat's like tryin' to stuff Ailsa in an empty jar'a peanut butter. Only difference bein' that would probably actually work." Aileen retorted, gently chucking the dislodged handle back into the truck and scooting to pull her legs out before Zom closed the door. Their weapons of choice being stowed in the tinted camper-top tailgate, the four Monsters and one human soon gathered at the back to load up. Everyone's personal sidearms already being on their person due to being easily concealable, the tailgate was for the big stuff, like Zom's AKMS, Silver's FAMAS-G2 or the slightly-modified Panther Arms crossbow Mana was bringing to subdue Ruby.
Also oddly having a shotgun in a tan scabbard fitted with a sling-strap, a silver metal baseball bat, and what looked to be an HK21E LMG, Zom didn't quite know who had what between Aileen and their human tag-along, Clarice. Plenty of black messenger bags to carry ammo being brought along too, some quick checks sorted out which one had what ammo.
"Uh…..one of you brought a bat?" Manako asked in dire confusion, everyone having put their own weapons into the tailgate without Zom or Mana checking at any interval. As such, the stockpile went from just an AKMS and a crossbow with two messenger bags, one for AK mags and one for a mixture of arrow-shaped tranquilizer needles/magazines for Mana's new Beretta sidearm up to all of this. The short-black/orange-haired, 6'1" bruiser Clarice reaching in to take the bat and shotgun, Aileen similarly reached in to grab the HK21E, as well as a messenger bag stuffed full with belts of 7.62x51mm ammo for it. Traditional box magazines being too clunky to fit more than two in this kind of bag, it was a small sacrifice in favor of much more spare ammo for the Minotaur to use.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a bat…just gotta be smart enough to use it right." Clarice smiled, letting the shotgun sheath hang off her back with the strap crossing over her hooded leather jacket-wearing chest. Looking like a class-A mugger with her jeans, running shoes and fingerless gloves, all she'd need to do is swap the jacket for a letterman jacket and don a chicken mask to be a perfect bat-wielding psycho. The shotgun most likely being that same Black Aces quad rail-fitted Mossberg, the bat/shotgun combo was making it abundantly clear why Silver thought she should come with despite seeming nearly afraid of her. Fortunately, the back of the shotgun's scabbard had a small, stretchable holder slotted on, which was tight enough to hold her bat in place, but still stretchable enough to let her draw the blunt weapon relatively fast.
"Just mind where you're swinging…." Manako mumbled, slinging her messenger bag across her chest and holding her crossbow by a small handle under the front-end in her left hand. Obviously not intending to use it as an offensive weapon against the random Snakes thugs, that was a job for the new Beretta 90Two pistol in her right hand, which had a little Viridian C5 green laser-sight under the front-end to help the one-eyed Monster with quick, close-up shooting. Drawn from an armpit holster seated beneath her left arm, the whole system was easily concealed by her jacket.
Everyone getting their guns loaded and set, the five Venue members formed up at the edge of the alley to peer in, spotting the garage in question. Guarded by a single, indistinct human man in a flannel shirt, jeans and a leather jacket, the guy was just standing around by the garage door for no reason, which gave strong cause to believe he was the Snakes' door-guy. Preferring to go in quietly if they could, Clarice seemed to have it handled. Pulling off her shotgun sheath and passing it to Manako, the human 'Messenger' as her kind were called in the criminal world pulled the grey, fabric hood of her leather jacket up and casually strolled down the alley, letting her silver metal bat hang in her right hand.
Getting up to the man with little issue, he got as far as starting to turn to Clarice before getting a two-handed swing in the stomach. Keeling over, a hard-crack swing in the leg followed by a few blows on the back put him face-down on the floor, conscious and very afraid of a now-squatting Clarice. Looking like he was being interrogated, a quick point by Clarice to the garage door's keypad indicated she was asking about the code it required, which the man quickly gave up. Demonstrating the distinct flaw in the Snakes' 'hire any degenerate with no morals and a gun' strategy with how fast this door-man gave up, Manako had to stop peering around the corner when she saw Clarice rise to a stand and raise the bat over her head.
Knowing that a messy skull-splitting was up next for the poor door-guard, Mana chose to pull back and cringe at the sound of the metal impacts, which stopped after about ten swings. A short delay coming on, followed by the sound of a dumpster lid falling, it seemed the resourceful Messenger found a good dumpster to hide her kill in. Coming back a short while later, Clarice's return around the corner showed she was mostly the same, save for some very noticeable blood stains on her bat. Getting her shotgun passed back to her, Clarice hardly noticed Manako's determined attempts to not throw up as the Monoeye kept thinking about what a mess it must've been.
Carrying on down the alley with guns in hand, all that was left of the guy was a small pool of blood by the garage door, which trailed off towards a nearby dumpster in a manner that indicated Clarice dragged his body by the ankles before tossing him in. Thankfully not leaving any major giblets behind, Clarice got the garage door open as the rest prepared for a shootout. Aileen in particular taking a hip-fire stance by gripping the downward-diagonal foregrip attached to the left side of her HK21E, the free-floating 50-round belt found a stable resting position draped over the top of her left forearm. Turning out to be quite anticlimactic, the ground floor seemed to be completely empty.
"Looks like they ain't home…think they left Ruby all nice and asleep for us too?" Aileen joked, taking the lead as they slowly stepped into the building. Looking like it was initially a garage lockup of some description, some cheap hand-me-down desks and so-so drywall installations sectioned off the garage into a crappy-looking office space filled with dust. Filled to such a degree that said dust was like a debris-filled vapor in the air, the unpleasant-at-best office space thankfully had a fairly obvious stairwell in one of its few back rooms, which was most likely where the real meat of this underground operation was happening. Coming close to the stairs, opening the garage door seemed to have brought some attention.
"The hell?" A suit-dressed Snakes member asked as he stopped near the top of the stairs, AMT Hardballer pistol in hand and very confusedly noticing the silhouette of a Minotaur looking down at him from the top of the dimly-lit staircase. More seeing just a black shape due to said bad lighting, the gangster's confused stare as he tried to process what he was seeing ended up being his downfall when Aileen, considering their stealth totally bust now, opened fire down the stairs. Hosing the man while only a single, haphazard shot came her way in return, the dead Snake tumbled back down the stairs and dumped out through the door in a bloody heap, putting his buddies who sent him up to begin with on high alert.
The mix of suit-dressed 'high-tier' Snakes and more thuggishly-dressed, disposable 'low-tier' Snakes all drawing/running to grab their guns, plenty just had sidearms spanning all up and down the caliber/manufacturer spectrum, with a lucky few getting AKM rifles or suppressed MAC-10s off some nearby tables. Not knowing what to expect, neither did the Venue members, but that's why Aileen let Zom pass her up and exit the stairs first. Sprinting out and looking to simply overtake whoever was closest, the Zombie got quite shot-up in the process from both the front and back, but was able to keep running as she dropped a trio of Snakes hiding near a gambling table in the near left corner.
Creating some vague resemblance of a safe-zone as a result, Aileen was the next one down, strafing a line of automatic fire to kill or scare the Snakes hiding off to the right while Silver, Manako and Clarice ran to join Zom off to the left. Soon backing up to join them, the gambling tables were shitty, thin wooden tables bolted to the concrete floor, but the small Venue group thankfully had cover in other ways. This little 'corner-pocket' where the tables were placed having a nice inlet next to the stairwell to help with hiding from gunfire off to the right, a mid-chest-high wall not too far past the stairwell further helped provide decent cover from further down the right side.
Said wall being so high to protect the gamblers, on the other side was a lowered arena-style area that encompassed the central 50% of the room, and was most likely where they would make Ruby fight. Said high walls being a good 8' drop if one were to climb over, it was hard to tell if the blood-stains on the walls and floor of the arena were from dead competitors or unlucky gamblers who got shoved into Ruby's pit like it was a sea of piranhas. The 'safe' higher areas off to the right and left sides of the arena forming a sort of U-shape around it, the back-end had a pair of doors with crude 'STAFF ONLY' signs above them, hinting that whatever cage they kept Ruby in would be back there. Getting a bit impulsive, and admittedly being able to take these risks due to being undead, Zom's lack of severe inhibition led her to head for the wall and vault into the arena in hopes of finding a sleeping Ruby and talking her into escaping.
"Dammit…..Zom! Where are you going?!" Manako called out, having activated the laser sight on her originally-.40, now 10mm-converted Beretta and already popped a few sorry Snakes in the head. Knowing Zom had these tendencies to rush in, the Monoeye regrettably wasn't crazy/immortal enough to rush in after her. By contrast, while far from immortal, the shotgun-armed human Clarice was both crazy enough to follow, and thanks to being a parkour enthusiast like Silver, nimble enough to not dump over the edge of the wall before landing face-first like Aileen would. Thankfully avoiding the gunfire going back and forth, Clarice's well-meaning entry soon turned into a much-needed exit when a ramp-door at the far end of this low-down arena dropped. Leading right into the cage-areas, their path was obstructed by their target as a roughly 7' tall, 6'-wide Large-Breed Arachne stumbled out.
"So…..what do you think the chances are that Ruby'll come quietly?" Clarice asked, starting to regret coming down when she noticed the black claws this Arachne had for hands, as well as the blood-stains on her ripped, messy crop-length grey shirt and matchingly unclean long skirt. The skirt in particular almost giving off the vibe of a bloody executioner's robe, the white-haired Arachne was pale, disheveled-looking, and had black/white fur that looked horribly matted and damaged. Hearing a Snake yell 'Kill 'em and you'll be outta here!', the obviously-drugged Ruby was having her biologically-inherent anger problems jacked to a level beyond being reasoned with thanks to whatever drug-cocktail they pumped her with before sending her out. Failing to find her eight-legged footing for a moment, that was crucial time the duo needed to get out of the arena.
Aileen already being on it while Manako and Silver distracted the gun-wielding Snakes, the Irish Minotaur had one arm hanging down over the wall for Clarice to jump and grab onto. Getting a secondary boost from Zom pushing upwards on the bottom of Clarice's left foot, the Irish-American Messenger was just getting up to help Zom make the climb when Ruby closed in. Both Aileen and Clarice having to jerk their arms back lest Ruby rip said arms off at the elbow, Zom was similarly out of range due to the dodging side-jump she had to make. Everyone making it out of the exchange alive, albeit with Zom trapped in a deep pit with an angry Australian Arachne, every plan had its kinks.
"Don't worry about me, just cover Mana so she can tranq this bitch already!" Zom called out, not wanting any insane heroics to be done in her name. Getting her side of things ready, Mana picked up the crossbow and fished out a tranquilizer-arrow, which looked like a long hypodermic needle with that arrow-like red fluff on the back end. Loading the bolt in, the Monoeye not only had the raging gunfire to try and ignore, she also had to line up a shot on the aggressive, fast-moving Arachne that was thrashing about in her attempts to pull Zom apart. Being forced down into cover multiple times by a bullet or two whizzing by every now and then, the increasingly-frustrated Monoeye could only wait for the Snakes to be thinned out a bit.
Not wanting to come all this way just to kill Ruby anyway, Zom carelessly let her AKMS drop somewhere in the arena, and was instead concerned with merely baiting Ruby around in circles for Mana to tag. Getting a bit boastful with it, the short Zombie would duck under a swing from Ruby's heavy claws, run to the other side of the arena, then call to the Arachne with something like 'You comin?!' or 'Miiiissed!' to goad Ruby into tiring herself out. Working as intended, the pure damage all these drugs had done to Ruby were showing their effects with how on/off her footing was, as some charges were well-executed, while others ended in the Large-Breed charging and clumsily slamming into the wall of the arena like a mentally-damaged bull. Feeling a bit of pity when the latter happened, Zom noticed Manako peeking over the arena wall with the crossbow, leading the Zombie to run to the back end of the arena and stand her ground.
Hoping to make Ruby get on a straight enough shot that Mana could land the arrow, trying for such a thing had its consequences once Zom realized that, due to Ruby's bulk, she was boxed against the wall once Ruby closed in. Having waited too long to run because of not wanting Ruby's 'trajectory' to change at the last moment, Zom could only thank her immortality as one clawed hand ran into her stomach, going right through the tank top and skin like it was nothing. Pulling downwards, the angry, delusional Arachne ripped Zom in half at the hips, leaving the Zombie's pelvis and legs where they were and flinging Zom's upper half to the other side of the arena. Ruby feeling a sharp sting in the back of her neck before she could turn around, Zom's first sight after landing was that telltale tranquilizer-bolt sticking out of Ruby's upper back, just at the base of the neck.
Turning around in confusion as the calming drug-cocktail began to wear on her system, the heavy Arachne was a big woman, warranting a second bolt from Mana to the upper chest region, which landed in her shoulder. Thankfully able to not overdose due to her size, the Arachne nonetheless slowed down considerably, going into a slow trot before finally collapsing in the middle of the arena. Seeming totally asleep, Zom could rest her head in peace while the others cleaned out the last of the armed Snakes. Being a short order due to the small, underground space only being capable of housing so many people at once, the attention was back on Zom once it was very certain that Ruby wouldn't be getting back up.
"Ugh, that's fuckin' nasty." Aileen commented after using an openable door revealing a wide ramp on the right side of the arena, which neatly blended into the arena-wall when down in the 'pit' itself. Judging by the way Aileen didn't avert her eyes, but did wave her left hand in front of her nose, the Minotaur wasn't bothered by Zom's exposed intestinal tract or the pools of blood, but rather by the formaldehyde-preservative smell said 'blood' gave off. Mana, Silver and Clarice joining them in the arena, Mana instead focused on getting the expended needles out of Ruby's body before her weight shifted on them too hard.
"Yeah, smells like someone shot up the chemical aisle at a hardware store or somethin'….you alright? You did get kinda…..split….at the end there." Clarice added on, confirming the two were just bothered by the smell. Silver being the only one to outright slap a hand over his nose, the Kobold's better sense of smell probably made the 'shot-up chemical aisle' smell feel like ten shot-up chemical aisles. Thankfully still her same old self, the half-a-Zombie wasn't bothered in the slightest.
"Eh, just gimme a few hours and some stitching equipment, it'll be like nothin' ever happened…if anything, I'd be more worried about big, fluffy and furious over there." Zom pointed out, reminding them that Ruby was the one actually at risk of death here. Seeming to be sleeping peacefully, Aileen went over and gave the Arachne a good pull, only to hardly move the fluffy spider an inch or two. Possibly double Aileen's weight, the fact that Ruby was comatose meant the Large-Breed Arachne was like a giant bag of bricks at the moment. At least able to get a better look at her now, the big spider had short, white hair, albeit more akin to Olianna's bob than Hana's slightly asymmetrical haircut. Her fur-covered arms being a dull, dirty white contrasted by her black claws, the spider-body took a similar trend, with a color-pattern reminiscent of Indian ornamental tree-spiders. Somewhat odd given her supposed Australian heritage, it was a question best saved for when she was in a clear state of mind.
"We're probably gonna need Katalie out here too…Unless you wanna spend the next five hours havin' me and Clarice pull her fat, fuzzy ass up the stairs, two people ain't gonna cut it on this one." Aileen sighed, unable to deny this one would be a major chore due to Ruby's bulk. The only silver lining being that the Snakes had to have gotten her down here to begin with, the fact that it wasn't completely impossible was their only saving grace.
"I'll go up and call Saleen, tell her we need some extra muscle….Clarice, can you drive us outta here? Zom's…not in a position to do it, and I doubt Aileen's hooves work very well with the pedals." Manako suggested/asked, pulling her phone and looking for any excuse to get away from the rancid formaldehyde smell that this basement was getting flooded with.
"Sure…just tell Saleen to send some gas masks too." Clarice agreed, obviously not enjoying the chemical scent either.
"So…why'd you jump in after me? I can clearly handle myself, even if I get a little split, so why risk it? Unless of course you're just a Zombie caked in ten pounds of makeup or somethin'….." Zom wondered, getting a helping hand as Clarice stowed her shotgun before picking the half-a-Zombie up off the ground. Not bothered by the dangling intestine lightly patting against her thigh, the big Irish-American girl transitioned Zom to hang off her back, arms wrapped over Clarice's shoulders like a piggy-back ride. Aileen just as casually collecting Zom's lower half, the desensitized gang had never done this before, but looked like they'd done it a thousand times.
"I'll be honest with you: In thirty-four years, I haven't learned much…One of the few things I did learn is you gotta take a moment and really decide who's got your back when things go bad. Knowing who those people were got me down to Texas and into the Venue along with a good friend of mine, and if what Silver's told me about you is real, you're the kind'a person who would've jumped right in if it was me down there first. If I just sat down behind cover and let you run in without even trying to help, I might as well have joined the Snakes." Clarice explained, showing it wasn't some warrior-fantasy of wanting to be deep in the front-lines, but rather just a moral obligation to help one's own.
"Silver told you about me? Aww….thanks Shiba." Zom asked with a heartfelt tone, teasing Silver with an equally-heartfelt compliment using his oh-so-hated nickname.
"Can you please stop calling me that?" Silver lightly begged, walking alongside the rest of the group to escape the concentrated chemical-smell. Unfortunately, it was a horribly stacked, losing battle for the Kobold.
"Ah c'mon, ya gotta accept bein' loved at some point…maybe if ya weren't such a cuddly lil' furball, we wouldn't care so much." Aileen jumped in, carrying Zom's lower half by holding the left ankle in her left hand and propping the bottom of said Zombie's pelvis on top of her shoulder, letting the right leg lazily dangle off the back. Using her free right hand to ruffle Silver's hair before they needed to go single-file up the stairs, the Kobold could be taken seriously, just not by the people whose side he was on.
A few hours later, inside a hidden medical clinic…
"I say it to Aderyn, and I'm gonna say it to you too: You Zombie people need to stop throwin' yourselves in the way of stuff just because you can live through it. I don't care how durable you are: If I had a dollar for every time I had to reconnect a vein, patch some skin on or get an intestinal tract back in order, I could've bought that casino you guys robbed. And that's off Aderyn alone. It's no wonder she latched onto you if you do dumb shit like this." Maddy chastised, leaning over Zom's exposed stomach to finish out the final stitches needed to put her back together. More formally known as Madalynn Argyros, the Long-Legs sub-variant Arachne was one of the many 'secret' Monsters like Silver that grew up in the States under the media's nose and only known by the locals, more specifically around the Greek community up in Detroit.
Being a bit more on the tanned side, the black-haired Arachne had an even more tanned spider-half, reminiscent of a Longbodied Cellar Spider. Not particularly large-bodied in any sense, the only 'big' thing about Maddy was her subspecies' namesake long legs, which had to remain heavily bent at the 'knees' in order for her to remain at head level with all the 'normal' bipedal people. Being the designated 'medical expert' of the gang, much like Evalyn was the go-to mechanic or Saleen was the logistics expert, most of the gang members did know general first-aid, but when something horrible happened like a non-Zombie being struck by a car, breaking bones, suffering grievous wounds, or a Zombie being ripped apart like Zom was, they were sent to Maddy.
Thankfully able to back it up with their little 'secret clinic' not too far from the main club, it was like the third corner in a geographic triangle, with the other two points being the main club and Saleen/Salazar's abandoned warehouse district; and all three only being a few miles away from each other. Not open to the general public, or even publicly announced that it existed, the building's exterior was an unsuspecting twenty-floor office building that was completely Venue-run and owned, with a sympathetic human being the technical owner in regards to paperwork. Just a willing puppet strung to the end of Saleen's fingers, the human man knew it was technically Saleen that was really in charge, but when told to just go to an office building and 'do stuff' five days a week in exchange for a paycheck, anybody with half a brain wouldn't mind playing the figurehead role.
"I just hope everything's the way it should be…you sure you got all my guts put in right?" Zom joked, admittedly liking the idea of not having to do her own patch-work anymore. Signifying that by resting her hands behind her head on the maybe-legally-bought, maybe-stolen gurney sitting against one wall, the Zombie was taking the whole 'ripped in half' thing like it was just a mosquito bite, much to Maddy's annoyance.
"Yes, I did.I know this clinic's a bit improv, but what do I look like to you? John Ronald Brown?" Maddy counter-argued, pulling her long, spindly fingers away as she finally finished putting Zom back together. Moving away to let Zom get up, the theoretically-clumsy Long-Legs Arachne thankfully had the sterile-looking, white-walled room designed to accommodate her width. Largely having all the serious equipment set up on desks or rolling stands, things could be easily shifted to move out of Maddy's way as she skittered around to do her thing. The wide room's other two occupants minding their own business on personal desktops set up along the back wall, they each served vastly different purposes.
One being the psychologist Katalie mentioned in Vegas, thirty-year-old Nicholas Cosmides was a fairly average-looking blonde human male, who also hailed from Detroit's Greek community, with no exotic skill-sets or capabilities outside of being a college-grad psychologist. Immensely valuable for that reason, the 5'9" white man not only got to stick around due to his ability to help solve the problems Maddy's scalpel and stitches couldn't, but also because he was the Long-Leg Arachne's 'unofficial' husband. Only unofficial due to spotty, argued-over marriage rights for human/Monster mixed relationships varying from state to state, it wasn't on the books, but the two still openly referred to each other as husband and wife in private.
Their third wheel being another Monster, the Brazilian Leech-girl Felice Preto had nothing to do with Maddy and Nicholas' love-life (unlike the nigh-harem Silver found himself surrounded with), and was instead here purely for two reasons: Her hirudin-laced saliva aided in situations where de-coagulating blood was needed, and the Leech's mitten-like fat hands meant she really needed a helping hand from her five-fingered friends every now and then. Living with them as a result, the quirky little 5'5" Leech had a background more steeped in combat, having come from a gang down in Brazil that primarily worked around the favelas, but was able to put her natural talents to work with a little guidance by Maddy.
Wearing a green hoodie sweater and baggy jeans as a remnant memory of those old gang-days, the other big nostalgia-token was Felice's modified SIG 510-4 rifle she kept near her desk, which had a flip-down 'winter trigger' so her fat mitten-hands could still use it properly. The winter-trigger being a standard feature, the aftermarket-mod aspect was that her gun's winter-trigger was custom-fitted to be on the left side of the gun instead of the right, which benefitted her as a left-hand dominant person.
Coming off more as a 'combat medic' compared to Maddy and Nicholas' stay-at-home doctor-style role, Zom had a severely hard time understanding how Felice could aim a rifle with no visible eyes, but then again, she knew very little about Leech-Monster physiology. Evidently able to operate her computer, the Brazilian Leech had some kind of eyesight on her matte-black, shiny head, but from an outsider's perspective, all one saw was that creepy grin when she was happy about something. Minding their own business, Zom slowly got off the gurney and pulled her tank top down, lingering to see if Maddy had anything else to say.
"So, uh…..anything else? A bill? Word of warning for next time?" Zom asked, grabbing her bomber jacket and throwing it on as she watched Maddy gently skitter off to a third desktop computer, which lacked a chair in front of it.
"Nope, in-house medical treatment's free. As long as you keep stealin' money from the Snakes, we can keep paying for shipments of medical supplies. Think of it…almost like the Snakes are payin' the bill instead. But, unless you wanna find bits of yourself scattered all around Texas, I'd suggest you don't make a habit of havin' me put you back together. Ruby's stabilized and restrained in another room, so she's my problem now. Nothin' you need to worry about." Maddy lightly threatened, effectively finding a PG way to say 'Make my job too hard, and I'm gonna section your sorry ass up for half the front-doors in Texas to get a piece of'. Getting the message loud and clear, it was becoming more obvious why Maddy was the one in charge of a whole gang's med-clinic. Taking her leave since Maddy didn't even turn to face her again, Zom stepped out of the little clinic-room to find her recently absent best-friend Aderyn waiting for her.
"Hey! Good to see Maddy didn't put your legs on backwards or somethin'….she knows what she's doing, but she can get a little…..spiteful….when she's had to fix too many 'stupid' wounds in a week. Y'know, dumb stuff like blowing up a shotgun by trying to fire random junk out of it and catching some shrapnel in the face?" Aderyn asked, actually wearing her flannel shirt properly instead of having it tied around her waist like she normally did. Having been largely absent from Zom's immediate life since the Vegas job, hearing that the ex-M.O.N. Zombie got pulled in half by an angry Arachne no doubt gave her cause to swing by.
"I could tell…I'm guessing the big reason you don't have too many injured all at once is she scares 'em in line? Like, 'Don't get fucked up, lest ye be at the mercy of the eight-legged Nazi Scientist'?" Zom wondered, figuring if Maddy really had that kind of a cruel streak, one could only hope she never got her hands on captured Snakes for the victim's sake. As it turns out, that wasn't too far off.
"Close…..she was born and lived in the shitty side of Detroit, and even though she was born just on the tail-end of Detroit's stint as the murder-capital, it wasn't exactly fun by what I heard….she means well though. The way I see it, she just acts so tough on the job to try and scare the rest of us into not doing anything too stupid so she doesn't lose us. As for the 'fear the Nazi' jokes, that's more Elise's territory….she's not actually a Nazi, but after seeing her go off on a few idiots that mishandled their guns, Logan's sister nicknamed her 'The Soup Nazi of Guns', and for good reason." Aderyn clarified, showing Maddy's hardened attitude had some merit behind it.
"The…Soup Nazi? The fuck is that?" Zom wondered, completely missing the reference ala not being a Seinfeld fan. Luckily, she'd get a fairly good example real soon. Having been following Aderyn as the two walked to a nearby elevator, rather than hit the ground floor, the blonde Zombie clocked in a lower floor in order to make a second stop.
"It's…..a long story. She finished workin' on your Jericho pistol, and I figured it'd be more fun if you got to finally meet her in person, so why not we just go down there and you'll see what I mean?" Aderyn suggested, not wanting to get into a long explanation about how many of the Venue's founding members were humans in their thirties that liked to make referential jokes about the TV shows they grew up on. Obliging on the grounds that she did want her new Jericho pistol back, the thought that this office complex was both a med-clinic and a gunsmith's work-place spoke a bit to the Venue's ability to optimize the space they were given. Having started on the twentieth floor and moved down to the sixth floor, this floor was far less inviting, with the whine of CNC machines screeching through the open doorways of the various walled-off sub-rooms.
"And don't come back until you get rid of all that useless junk! You're a damned gang member, not a Navy SEAL! Shit, even the SEALS don't use half that crap!"An exceptionally angry woman's voice yelled as a random Venue human hurried out the door of one-such room in a panicked rush. Looking like he was running from a demon, the man got his tacticool-ified, unloaded AR-15 thrown right at him, which he awkwardly caught with both hands. Whoever the woman was, she had a valid point, as the man's rifle was horribly over-stocked with an EOTech sight, flip-on magnifier for said EOTech, a forward-grip that could also split down the middle and extend as a bipod, as well as a grip-cover around the mag-well that made the other grip redundant, and finally a laser sight affixed to the left side of the fore-end, while a flashlight was affixed to the right side, because laser/light combo-pieces don't exist, right?
"That's Elise…like we've said in the past, she handles all our guns, and does stuff like those 10mm conversions Mana and Melik got. She's got a whole set of staff and plenty of equipment to practically make guns from scratch, so making custom caliber-conversions is a piece of cake….just try not to act surprised when you see her. She's a bit of a spitfire." Aderyn warned, giving Zom about five seconds to process that information before they rounded the corner into Elise's 'office'. Expecting some big-bodied Minotaur woman who could put a man through a wall, what Zom found instead was a tiny little 5' Pan. The half-sheep Monster having black hair and trimmed black fur, as well as pale skin, the denim shorts/white shirt/leather jacket-wearing sheep brought one thought to Zom's head: God-damn, she's shorter than I am!
"So, is Elise the Pan, or…..?" Zom wondered, at a loss for words as the angry little Pan trotted back to her desk and took a seat. Looking similar to Salazar's desk, the fancy wooden desk was bolted into the floor and outfitted with a two-monitor desktop setup. Most likely for keeping inventory and organizing 'appointments' for gun-work, it took a moment, but the Pan eventually took notice of Zom's comment and provided an answer.
"You must be that Zom-girl Aderyn mentioned….the name's Elise Lindseth. Born in Norway, came to the States in 2005, worked under a gunsmith for three years, and then got picked up in 2008 by the old boss to do illegal off-the-books gun mods and maintenance for the Venue. Y'know, all the serious stuff that Joe-Schmoe Random can't do in his garage without potentially destroying the gun…as long as you don't come in here with some duct-taped abomination or kit a gun out with more accessories than Neil Tyson's got books, we'll get along great." Elise explained, being to-the-point and exceptionally blunt, but at the same time not making it sound like Zom's very presence was an annoyance.
"Noted….so…..I heard you got that Jericho done?" Zom half-absent-mindedly commented, lost in staring at the collection of unique guns Elise had on display. Primarily just an office, with the serious machines that made all this possible being in other rooms, the gun-racks on the walls were like some kind of firearms museum. Spotting some old Dutch AR-10s, Vietnam-era M16A1s, an M1 Garand or two, and a few SIG 510-4 rifles like Felice had upstairs, the rule seemed to be 'If it's got any kind of age, storied history or semi-rare quality to it, Elise probably has it'. Having some more modern armaments as well, one standout example was a massive S&W .500 Magnum on the desk, which Zom could only pray a little, petite 5' lightweight Pan like Elise was not crazy enough to use.
"Yep, cut in the detail-work on the grips just this morning…..gave the whole gun a good once-over too just to be safe. The Snakes are reallybad about taking care of their guns, so I usually have to go in and replace parts whenever someone comes in with a gun they looted off some random Snake. Might be a damaged barrel, a chipped magazine well….you name it, one of those jackasses has done it. I get guns are just tools, but shit, tools only work when you take care of 'em." Elise mildly complained about the Snakes' lack of professionalism, being on the topic since the .45 Jericho was looted off one of Hana's estate-guards to begin with. Having the pistol on the desk, Zom approached and had it passed to her, giving the gun a good look to see what changed.
Not drastically different in shape, size or barrel-length, the big differences were a modified, now-removable back-strap better suited to Zom's hands that could also be changed out if it didn't work to her liking, custom grip-panels on the sides that replaced the IWI logo with that Venue bull-skull logo, and a stainless-steel frame in replacement of the black finish it originally had. The grips, hammer and various controls staying black for easy visual contrast, the unloaded gun was very happily traded for the old Glock, which Zom passed over the table for Elise to do as she pleased with it. Slotting the Jericho into the neatly-tucked belt-holster around her backside where the Glock used to be, her jacket hid it from view admirably well.
"Probably gonna need a new holster to hold it better, but that's about it….anything else? Any….shipments of guns you've conveniently been needing the right person to go and steal that you wanna tell me about?" Zom wondered, slightly fidgeting with the Jericho when she found it didn't fit in the holster just right. Her end-comment making a jab at how these kinds of first-time meet-ups usually ended in the very-important person having a job to do, the Norwegian Pan surprisingly came up dry.
"Nah, none right now….if I do get anything for you to do, I'll have Saleen phone it in for ya. Of course, if you just wanna come by later and talk guns, my door's always open." Elise offered, probably having heard through Aderyn that the green-haired Zombie was a bit of a firearms aficionado. Ending on a positive note, Zom took the opportunity to respectfully back out, causing Aderyn to follow as they went for the elevator.
"Well she was…interesting…by the way, where've you been the past few days? I haven't gotten to see you until, like, two in the morning the past couple days." Zom commented, finding Aderyn's recent absences to be somewhat odd. True to form, the gang-leader was just taking a 'hands-on' approach to getting her revenge.
"I've just been busy is all…smashing up a front-business here, torching a lab there, doing a targeted hit or two on the side…just little stuff Saleen needs done that I didn't think was really important enough to make you come along. Besides, if I can't handle torching one drug lab hidden out in the countryside, I'm really not fit to be the leader. Gotta stay on top of it, y'know?" Aderyn explained away with a smile, sounding like her grudge had transcended from seething rage into a casual, crazy acceptance that made shooting Snakes about as simple of a day-to-day occurrence as watering the grass. Remembering the Dullahan Michael warning her to not let Aderyn get herself killed, Zom wrote this off as acceptable given Aderyn obviously came back fine, but did make note that she should be more observant of the blonde teenager going forward.
Author's Note:
And now we get into the start of what me and my friends called the 'Going Clean' arc. Obviously I won't go into a detailed moment-by-moment description of everything that's planned right here in this Note, but the one thing I will promise is the shit scenario Ruby's in at this exact moment is intended to be a shitty, painful scenario to be in (drug addiction and the physical effects it carries, even worse because it was forced on her for others' profit) that concludes on a positive note to show it can be beaten, for what little it's worth given it's fiction. Because of the rehabilitation process, she won't be dropped into being put to use immediately, but I'm going to try and not drag the wait out obscenely long, which'll probably result in some time-skips so that the reader both doesn't have to wait absurdly long, nor question how the hell Ruby bounced back in just three weeks or so.
Speaking of going forward, I'll have to chat it out with the other people on my side of things, but I'm tempted to make the next chapter go off in a completely different direction and focus on Silver or Mana or some other character like that because (probably due to not hearing any feedback) I don't know which characters are sticking and which need more info/moments given to the reader before they'll care. The end-goal is for all of the named Venue characters to be ones the reader cares about, so I'll just have to hazard a guess and say Silver's probably near the top in terms of "Why should I give two shits?" being an unanswered question. Mana gets off slightly easier since, even though I did the whole 'split' thing where 'canon' Mana is still back in Japan and a totally different person under the same name, "Venue Mana" is still similar enough that any Mana fans would have an easier time giving two shits about her than about a totally non-canon left-field arrival like Silver.
Might also make the next chapter just be talking to explore characters and set up background rather than action (Though that's another question I have no answer to: Am I blabbing too much character exploration and people want more shooting, or is it "Less shooting more talking pls"?), but I'm not totally sure yet. Aside from that, only major things to share are big musical inspirations (She Talks to Angels by The Black Crowes and Alive by Pearljam were the big drives for how Ruby's introduction and early time play out, with She Talks To Angels also being what this chapter's title is referencing), and that Clarice's partial tones of Jacket from Hotline Miami (Which is what the chicken-mask comment was about for those unfamiliar with Hotline Miami) is not limited to just her. Instead, she's one of three characters in the story (Other two have been mentioned, but not appeared yet), one human and one Monster, that'll share that "Mainly use a gun, but will draw a blunt melee weapon to crack someone in the head when fitting" style, but neither of the other two will use baseball bats.
I'll let spill now that the human uses a crowbar, but the Monster will have something a little more on the exotic side that ties into the mythology behind her species (It's a canon species if that narrows down the guesses, not something Okayado hasn't touched that I brought in for this story from general mythology like Noppera-bō). Other than that, as promised, I'll still advance this story despite the silence. I tested the waters and pitched some possibilities about how I might've pissed people off by accident, and got no response, so that scenario is either unfounded paranoia on my part or the people it rings true for never read that far (Admittedly, Chapter 10 was a bit of a whale. I did not expect it to come out to 20K words, so I wouldn't be surprised if some people didn't even read as far as the bit with Amelia just because the whole chapter was so god-damn big. Next casino heist is so gonna be a two/three-parter instead of one take). Either way, I'm just trying to have fun with this (And should probably loosen up my writing a bit to reflect that, gets a little stiff in some places), so all I can do is keep writing and see what happens. Last time I'll mention it since, well, all I can do is repeat myself on the topic with where it currently stands \( ._.)/