2020-08-13 Cartels, Police, Garfield, and The Unspeakable Horror
Cartels, Police, Garfield, and The Unspeakable Horror
Location: LA Streets and Foreboding Jacobean
Date and Time: August 13, 2020 evening
Summary: It just keeps getting worse
Mood Music: The Flirts - "Danger"
Stupid Vespa, can’t this thing go any faster? Of all the times Luu had imagined riding with Jinny on the Vespa, this scenario was never among them. When they had left to retrieve the Vespa from where they had stashed it awhile back while visiting Armageddon Highway, everything seemed so care free.
Now here they are zooming through LA traffic, hearts pounding. Luu on the back of the Vespa is holding on for dear life, and not even really thinking about what parts she might be touching, or thinking of the whole thing as some little twee moment.
They could have just retrieved the Vespa and left, but they had decided to venture back to Armageddon Highway proper, and see how the area was doing now that it lacked a Shaman to care for it. They also wanted to see the memorial mural they had painted that night, and how it looks during the day.
They saw it alright, but it was obvious someone else had seen it too. The whole thing had been defaced, and it wasn’t just stupid teenagers, not that they would have expected them in an area like that. No, this was a clear message from the Cartels, that this is now their territory.
After that revelation, it’s all a bit of a blur. Luu remembers the panic she felt when she realized in the open mountains anyone could be watching at that moment, training a sniper bead on them, and ready to pick them off before they even knew what was happening. She was still frozen still when she watched as Jinny painted over their gang graffiti and made clear that there was now a war on for Armageddon Highway. A war that they weren’t prepared for, not at that moment at least, and so after that they ran through the tunnel and made their way back to the bike.
Fleeing in such a quick manner made them forget to take some of their usual precautions with traffic, in a mundane and magickal sense, and now they’re about to face those consequences. The piercing whine and the flash of light, and she knows instantly they fucked up. This would have been so easy to avoid had they not been in a rush. They might have to deal with the Cartels later, but right now they have to deal with the police.
Uncertain on what laws they might have broken, Luu wonders if it’s even physically possible to speed on a Vespa. Stupid Vespa. A little Ars Cupidiate will probably handle the situation quite smoothly, but still, it’s a hassle she’d rather not have to deal with right now. So close to home, so close to a bubble bath to get off the mud and dirt from this adventure, to help make her feel a little saner, but first this. Luu can’t help but wonder if this whole police situation could have been avoided had they taken the time to find what she saw as their ‘lucky’ Garfield.
The Vespa, as much as Luu has decried it, is not stupid. It’s good and cute and the same color as the inside of a Thin Mint cookie which reminds Jinny of TV shows she used to watch on reruns while home on sick days during school. It also has a top speed of 59 miles per hour in factory spec with a single passenger, but unfortunately for them, factory spec plus three backpacks, two passengers, and traffic all conspire to keep the needle at around thirty five at the very most. Jinny does her best to stay in the slow lane or on the shoulder as much as she can to keep traffic from backing up behind them. Sometimes she’s lucky and there’s a shoulder, while other times, impatient drivers have to wait for a lane to clear, and that ends with several blowing by the instant there’s space to do so. Thankfully, she’s good at riding, and they’re both wearing helmets because safety is a big, big deal for her.
Taking her Vespa on busy streets is not really a plan she was anticipating; after all, a vespa is for ‘around town’ and not for long overlanding journeys to the desert, so when they first made their trip out, they took their time. They took winding, circuitous routes in order to avoid things like this. However, after the scare in the desert and a very visible declaration of war on the cartel delivered by a silver can of spray paint, getting somewhere safe and secure was the immediate goal, and that meant straight lines and busy roads. That also means more Police which, at the first sound of the siren and the flashing blue lights behind, Jinny peered down into one of the mirrors to be sure she’s hearing what she’s hearing, looks back over her shoulder to see that, yes, there’s a cop there, and quickly searches for a safe place to pull over. There aren’t any hazard lights to turn on, so that’s right out, but a parking lot of a gas station - well lit and well travelled - is the perfect place to pull off that’s safe to talk to a cop and in plain view of everyone passing by. Turning on her blinker, Jinny maneuvers the Vespa underneath the canopy’s lights and puts a foot down to balance, shifting the kickstand down and turning it off with a twist of a key.
“I know I wasn’t speeding…” Jinny mutters to Luu while she digs around in her bag for her wallet and ID. “And we were on the far right lane, so we weren’t obstructing traffic or anything…” She shakes her head. “Why in the world did he pull us over?” She takes off her helmet, her hair crazy from being stuffed inside the padded shell, and looks over to the officer as he approaches. She tries to smooth it down and fails, miserably, since sweat and pressure have combined to keep her hair looking crazy. A bath will most definitely be required once this is said and done - probably after Luu’s foot rub that she promised to get her to come.
The police officer takes his time in the car, doing something with a computer, sitting up in his seat to peer at the pair, and swiveling a spotlight on them both so they’re extra brightly illuminated. It’s embarrassing, really, to be pulled over on a Vespa, and probably embarrassing for the cop, too. Were it just Jinny? She could have probably gotten away. Were she in the Datsun? Oh, without a doubt, but with Luu on board? Might as well take the punishment.
When the car door opens, the officer stands and starts towards the pair, putting on his hat as he walks. He’s average height, with a barrel chest that’s not flattered by the bullet proof vest beneath, and he’s got all the badges and implements of his office, including a little hand held ticket computer.
“Good evening, Ladies. My name is Officer Stadanko.” He looks from Luu to Jinny. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“No, no sir. I wasn’t speeding, and I wasn’t blocking traffic, and I know my lights are all working….” Jinny’s using a little Ars Cupidiae here, trying to play on the officer’s sympathies, even looking like she’s about to cry but not going that route just yet.
The officer shakes his head, waving a hand “No, ma’am. I’m not giving you a ticket. The reason I pulled you over was due to your rear license plate being obscured by something. It looks like you’ve picked up a passenger…” He leans over to look at something behind the seat, out of sight of both Luu and Jinny, easily missed in their haste to get back to the City proper. “It looks like a stuffed toy or something, but it’s really ripped up. Do you mind?” The officer glances at Jinny and then reaches to the back of the bike and tugs. There’s the sound of glue peeling off metal and string tearing as he twists the passenger free from it’s mount with one gloved hand, straightening, then turning to show the pair.
It’s Garfield. Suction cup paws and all, shredded to ribbons with cactus needles stabbed into his tiny plush belly and through his eyes.
Jinny gasps at the sight of the thing and covers her mouth, her helmet falling to the ground with a clatter from the shock. The sudden noise of her helmet hitting the ground does startle her out of her panic and she ducks down to grab it from where it hit, fumbling it back into her lap, a scrape on the otherwise pristine plastic near the crown.
“Yeah, looks like you just picked up some trash, or someone was just messing with you two for some reason. I’ll throw this away for you, okay? And have a nice day.” And just like that, the officer heads back to his car, casually tosses the Garfield in the trash, and turns off his lights to finish his report, leaving Jinny and Luu in a puddle of light thrown by the overhead lights at the gas station.
“We…” Jinny whispers. “We need to go home.” Not to your house, not to the Chantry, not to her place. Home.
“Yeah,” Luu agrees with a small nod, but the words don’t even come out, just the movement of her mouth, before she swallows hard. The officer took the whole thing as a funny little incident, two women on a Vespa with an accidental Garfield stowaway, but there’s no way that was an accident. A Garfield zip-tied to the front of a Vespa doesn’t suddenly make its way to the back, obscuring the license plate and arranged like some sort of effigy, no matter how much he might prefer suction cups. This was a message to them, and they missed it at first. Their graffiti antagonized some gang members that they know little about, but have information on them, or at least Jinny.
Yeah, home.
It feels like an eternity before the Vespa manages to begin winding through Laurel Canyon, darkness surrounding them. Luu doesn’t have any reason to think they know who she is, as they seemed to miss her name on the graffiti, mistaking it for loops. There’s no identifying marks or license plate that points to her, and even if there was, it would likely be extremely difficult for them to find the Chantry. Their home. Still, she’s worried, less for herself and more for what this might mean for Jinny. They are of course in this together, and so whatever it might mean for Jinny, Luu is going to be there, her ride-or-die. It makes her heart beat fast, and she holds onto Jinny for dear life. Not afraid of falling off the Vespa, but afraid of losing her somehow.
They make it to Winter’s Retreat and as expected all is quiet, no signs of trouble, and this is at least an area where she would be aware. She hopes.
Hopping off the bike, she begins to breathe a little easier. She’s not sure what comes next exactly, but at least now they have a chance for some normalcy. A moment to relax, to regroup, to plan and coordinate. Life or death decisions are coming up, but right now it’s just about life. It’s just about being home.
“No, oh no, oh fuck no,” Luu calls out, just moments after opening the front door and realizing what’s in front of her. “Alison … Neff … “ she begins to say, as she collapses to her knees in the doorway, her hands coming to her face in horror. “Fuck!” she screams out in almost a frightening display of rage at one of her greatest fears coming true. She knew the situation was messed-up, but she thought this could all be fixed, if she just managed to coordinate her team. But for some reason these past few days, Alison has been distracted, and now because of that, they’re all about to pay a heavy price.
Collapsing forward, Luu begins to dry heave, unable to stand the sight of what’s in front of her, as she wonders what she could have done differently to have prevented this from happening. But it’s too late for that, because there inside of Winters Retreat are way too many bolts of super tacky urban digi-camo fabric that one of the interns had accidentally ordered, and paid way, way too much for, and soon that bill is going to come due.
While Luu went to the front door to let herself in, Jinny made herself busy by depositing their bags on the front step and driving off behind the house to park. Stowing the Vespa didn’t take very long in the worst of circumstances. After all, a space had already been prepared for it in one of the many storage spaces and garages surrounding the Chantry - one that had helpfully been cleared of years of Fashion and Conspiracy detritus to be used as storage for Jinny’s car and Vespa when she decided to come visit. By virtue of simply being what it was, it really didn’t take up a lot of room even if you did leave it in the middle of everything, so Jinny had already parked and was nearly around the house when she heard Luu’s cry of anguish from the front of the house. Jinny broke into a dead run.
“Oh no, oh god, oh heavens what ELSE?” Jinny thought to herself as she ran, images of Neff (who she doesn’t think she’s met) and Alison (who she definitely has met) dangling from nooses slung over the bannister in the main hall or something. Skidding around the corner of the house, Jinny ran through the front door and tripped over the threshold as she passed, stumbling, then falling down and landing on her hands and knees, rolling, momentum causing her to skid on the hardwood floor and crash into a stack of….what is this stuff? She looks up, focusing in the darkness. Cloth? Her eyes widen as the precariously balanced tower of crazily-patterned cloth teeters and starts crashing down. With a yelp of surprise, Jinny covers up as dozens of bolts of cloth start to hit the floor around her with muted thuds, eventually burying both women in various hues of black, blue, gray, and green with accents of red, orange, purple, and gold.
Luu’s Intern, when ordering, certainly was thorough. When Luu asked for a few yards for some purpose - probably as a joke to see what high fashion would look like juxtaposed with a modern day flair - they took that as a challenge and went all out. Not just a yard or two, but a whole bolt! And while they were at it, Luu never specified colors, and not having enough was tantamount to not having any, so why not run the gauntlet and get multiple kinds? They surely were thinking good thoughts; after all, it’s that kind of go-getter attitude that takes a person far in Fashion, so why wouldn’t the intern be rewarded for taking the initiative? And if Neff or Alison were on the ball and thought Luu wouldn’t approve? Why certainly they would have nixed it, thanked the Intern for her hard work, and explained the long and the short of why they didn’t do something like this.
But that didn’t happen. Thank you very much for your purchase. No refunds or exchanges.
Jinny wasn’t entirely buried, so she managed to wrestle herself free without too much trouble. Her pride was more hurt than anything at this point, so she quickly scanned the floors for dead bodies, the balcony for hanging corpses, walls for splatters of blood...something to trigger this wail of despair from Luu. Unless it was this cloth? It couldn’t be, could it?
Jinny reached over and pushed the few bolts of cloth that were on Luu to the floor, helping her to a sitting position. Then, sitting on the floor, she dragged one of the various bolts of cloth over to her lap to study the label pinned on one of the bolts. “Holy shit.” she gasps, her eyes widening at the printed price of $120. And if this is for one? She grabs another. $145. Casting that one aside, she grabs a third. Oh great, this one is only $115.50. A bargain, but still.
Oh no.
Her eyes widen, and Jinny starts doing panicked math in her head. With a quick scan of her eyes around the room to try and estimate, she sucks on her lower lip and taps her fingers together in thought. At a quick glance, there must be at least a hundred bolts of cloth stacked up here. Jinny blows out a breath and rubs her face. Ignoring the fact that finding something to do with all of this cloth is going to take a miracle, the cost outlay alone is easily into the five figures; not something easily written off unless one is fantastically wealthy and connected. But that’s neither here nor there. At this moment, they’ve got a Cartel problem to deal with.
The license plate to her Vespa is registered to a PO Box LLC registered to her dad’s garage, so tracing the plate to her, while possible, would lead to a post office box in Burbank next to the water treatment plant. She’ll need to get a new plate like yesterday to prevent someone from visiting her apartment in order to have a quick chat with her; a chat that almost certainly would not be quick, gentle, or polite. Cartels, by default, do not mess around and this problem has just grown to be a bit more than Jinny and Luu can handle themselves without staying out of the spotlight or making Vulgar things happen.
But that can wait until the morning.
“Come on, Luu.” she whispers, putting one arm over the other woman’s lower back, patting her lightly, her voice a little sad. “Feeling screwed up at a screwed up time in a screwed up place does not necessarily make you screwed. Let’s get a bath, get to bed, and work on unscrewing this in the morning.”
