Post by penelope on Jul 23, 2023 4:40:40 GMT -5
The insanity from the beach in Miami had been left far behind. The Triad organizers turned their attention to Aguadilla, Puerto Rico, as the second set of Bravery Trial matches were set to begin in a few days. Except, we're not in Aguadilla. No, we're currently in San Juan. Well, not 'us' exactly; it's Penelope who is walking down some nondescript street.
And this isn't the 'nice' part of San Juan either, oh no. She's left the tourist traps, street vendors, bustling sidewalks, and colourful music far behind her.
From the looks of the people giving her the bombastic side eye as she passes, she probably shouldn't be there. But she marches on undeterred. The fact she was the proverbial fish-out-of-water didn't even seem to dawn on her.
She continued walking, ploughing ahead and stepping around the broken glass, trash, and random mangy dogs that were in her path. Her phone rings, grabbing her attention. After checking the caller, she swipes and answers.
"Charlotte…yeah, I got here fine. I'm on my way there now. Are you certain she has what we need? I'm not in the mood for wild goose chases; it's too important. …I know you spoke with her, but that's not the point. If we pull this off, it could be the key to giving Team PIC the edge. …Of course, I trust your judgment, but after what happened in Miami…"
Her voice still drips with annoyance and anger at the entire situation involving her soul. It cost her the victory in Week 1, whether Thaddeus or LC would ever admit it or not. But what stung more than the loss was the fact that someone got one over on not only Penelope but the entire Hotel California. Such arrogance could not go unpunished.
"Speaking of…how's Bob? Did we get any more information out of him?"
A wicked grin crosses her face before she laughs evilly. His screams from inside the Brazen Bull after they had locked him inside and lit the fire echoed in her head, like an old lullaby.
"Well, it was fun while it lasted. Besides, everything is in place in Aguadilla, correct? …Wonderful! Let them know I'll meet up with them afterwards to collect the package. Hold on, let me put you on speaker."
Penelope pulls the phone away, tapping it quickly.
"We good?"
"Yes, dear, I can hear you just fine."
Charlotte O'Neil's voice is heard, as soft and effortless as ever, coming out of the phone. Penelope taps again, checking the directions to her destination. The fact that some street signs were worn and others missing outright had prolonged her journey thus far.
"The Hotel is practically buzzing with excitement for your upcoming match with Ms Black and Ms Wolf. Considering you won't be going into this one at a disadvantage, it should be ever so much fun! And fighting in the town square?"
"Better than the beach for sure…took me forever to wash off all that damned sand of my soul. Those people don't have a clue what they're in for either."
"Vhodka and Sarah?"
"I meant the good people of Aguadilla, but you may as well toss those two in. This isn't going to be a wrestling match; this is going to be the real street fight. Vhodka was born just plain white trash, and fancy ain't her name…nor does it describe anything she does in the ring. She was on her back more times in that fight than the copious amount of corner-trolling hookers back in Miami. No doubt she's used to waking up dazed and confused, but this time wasn't from polishing off a bottle of whatever cheap rotgut she decided took her fancy down at Frugal MacDoogal's. It was down to a combination of being outclassed and her own stupidity."
Penelope can hear Charlotte laugh over the phone. Penelope shrugs even though it's obvious Charlotte can't see her.
"Vhodka absolutely fluked that win, and you know it, Char. She should have gone and thanked Lachlan personally because, without him, she'd be on zero points. Instead, she's on two, which…considering it fucked with Welsh's ego, leaves me torn. Regardless, there won't be any beach ball shenanigans this week, nor will there be any dodgy win."
Penelope looks up, rechecks her phone, and turns right off this main street. The side street she walks down is even darker and more dodgy than the one she just left.
"And Sarah Wolf…heh, no wonder they're such good friends. She's an even bigger disappointment. Fancy getting outsmarted by a dork named Merica. If she had the same commitment to winning that Merica does to waking up every day and tweeting the Pledge of Allegiance, she might have stood a chance. Cortes was always coming out on top, though. Anyone who handled those cursed kicks of mine and was smart enough not to have their face melt into a puddle of goo gets my vote."
"I'm sure Catalina being on Team PIC has nothing to do with that."
You can hear the sarcasm in Charlotte's voice.
"Of course not. I'm just telling it like it is. Sarah started that match like a rabid dog by attacking Merica from behind preemptively. Not exactly a bad idea, but then she totally let Catalina get the jump on her. Sarah's built like a brick shithouse Charlotte, not built for speed. That's how Catalina showed her up repeatedly, leading into her and Merica beating her ass."
"She was close to beating them both, though. Are you sure you're not underestimating her?"
"Listen, close only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades. I should know, last week I was close, remember? You get that girl frustrated, and she gets desperate. You get her desperate, and she gets lazy. She tried every submission hold in the book, and in the end, it didn't matter a lick. If she thinks I'm tapping out to her, then she's the one underestimating me."
"And if they decide to take you out two-on-one?"
"They can try…but one will still have to pin the other, which always leaves an opening for me. They can spout off about how they'll put their friendship aside, no doubt, but there will still be that half-second of hesitation and second-guessing. Would they hurt each other beyond what is necessary to get the win? That half-second is a half-second more than I'll need. No second-guessing, no hesitation. Winning is the only option Charlotte. Last week I was fighting with one arm tied behind my back and still damn near walked out victorious. This week I got two good arms, and I'll use them both to snatch that victory! Bravery is doing what you must when everything in your body screams at you to run the other way. I'm not running, and nothing is stopping me this week from doing whatever it takes. Even if it means driving my knee through the back of both their skulls…"
Penelope taps her phone again as she raises it to her ear.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm there now…yeah, I'll talk to you once I'm on my way to Aguadilla. Give Gina my love, bye."
She ends the call, placing the phone in her pocket. Looking up, Penelope eyes the dirty sign with the fading neon. La Luna Oscura. This was the place. Penelope shook her head, 'This had better be worth it.' she thought as she pushed open the door. A small bell chimed as she entered. The smell that hit her nose was hard to describe, almost like a mix of dust, mildew, and rot.
"Hola, como puedo ayudarte?"
A voice called out from beyond the doorway to Penelope's right that led to a room behind the counter. The beaded curtain obscuring what's behind parted as an old woman tottles out. She spies Penelope, who is busy looking at the random assortment of goods. Penelope could tell most of this was bogus, but a few pieces stood out beyond cobweb-covered junk.
"Señora? Qué deseas?"
She prompts again, having not received Penelope's attention before. The young woman turns her head now, walking towards the counter.
"Hablas inglés?"
"Si. What do you want, girl?"
Penelope leans on the counter, the woman eyeing her suspiciously.
"My associate Charlotte O'Neil contacted you, inquiring about a specific item. I was told she had informed you of my arrival?"
"Si…you must be la sin alma."
"And you just be the brujá she spoke of so glowingly. The item?"
"Si, I have it here, just as I told your friend. Uno momento."
She reaches under her counter, pulling out a lock box that had seen better days. She opens it, removing a small velvet pouch which she hands to Penelope. Penelope upends the pouch, a small golden fob with the remnants of a chain landing in her palm.
"It seems coming here wasn't the waste of time I anticipated it to be after all."
Penelope smiles as she examines the small item. The years have not been kind, whether on land or in the sea. Penelope turns it over, carefully inspecting it, noticing a coat of arms on the bottom.
"Are you sure this isn't a fake?"
The woman glares at Penelope, simultaneously offended and angered by her accusatory nature.
"Maldita pinche gringa, of course, it's real! Look there, on the seal perra."
She forcefully places a small eye magnifier in Penelope's palm. The kind a jeweller might use when inspecting a ring or watch movement. Penelope brings the fob onto the light, using the magnifier to get a closer look as she reads the worn seal.
"Her majesty's royal navy…Cpt. Francis Stirling…son of a bitch."
"I told you, think me some kind of liar, eh? About that, I don't lie!"
Penelope places the fob seal back into the pouch and slips it into her pocket. She opens her jacket, reaches inside, and pulls out a small stack of bills. She places them on the table in front of the woman.
"It would appear that you don't; my apologies. I believe you'll find that compensation more than adequate."
The woman gives the bills a quick rifling, appearing satisfied with the amount.
"I was also tasked with collecting a specific tome. La Oráculo de Los Condenados…"
The woman looks up from the lockbox after placing the money inside. Her face is decidedly unnerved.
"I…you have no business with that book, girl! We are done here, salir pendeja!"
The old woman points towards the door angrily and goes to leave. But she only takes a step before Penelope grabs her firmly by the wrist. The woman turns to Penelope, who brings up her free hand. She blows into her palm, the older woman getting a cloud of some sort of dust blown into her face.
"In Lapidem Converto…"
Penelope whispers the words as the woman's eyes bulge in fear, and she goes to cry out. Yet no words escape her, only guttural groans and painful snaps and cracks. Penelope lets go of her wrist, yet the woman stays seemingly frozen in place. As Penelope walks around the counter and through the beads, the eyes of the woman follow her…the only things left that can still move. Penelope returns a few moments later with a book under her arm. A few more noises leave the woman's gaping mouth. Penelope pauses, leaning in closer to her. She notices a single tear roll down the woman's cheek.
"All you had to do was give me the book you crusty old bitch. Here, for your troubles…"
Penelope smirks, reaching into her pocket and tossing a few coins on the counter. Leaving the poor woman in her certified state, Penelope flips the sign on the door to CLOSED, locks the door from the inside, and she steps through it slamming it behind her. She gives it a test, ensures it's not going to open and turns without another action, walking back the way she came.
And this isn't the 'nice' part of San Juan either, oh no. She's left the tourist traps, street vendors, bustling sidewalks, and colourful music far behind her.
From the looks of the people giving her the bombastic side eye as she passes, she probably shouldn't be there. But she marches on undeterred. The fact she was the proverbial fish-out-of-water didn't even seem to dawn on her.
She continued walking, ploughing ahead and stepping around the broken glass, trash, and random mangy dogs that were in her path. Her phone rings, grabbing her attention. After checking the caller, she swipes and answers.
"Charlotte…yeah, I got here fine. I'm on my way there now. Are you certain she has what we need? I'm not in the mood for wild goose chases; it's too important. …I know you spoke with her, but that's not the point. If we pull this off, it could be the key to giving Team PIC the edge. …Of course, I trust your judgment, but after what happened in Miami…"
Her voice still drips with annoyance and anger at the entire situation involving her soul. It cost her the victory in Week 1, whether Thaddeus or LC would ever admit it or not. But what stung more than the loss was the fact that someone got one over on not only Penelope but the entire Hotel California. Such arrogance could not go unpunished.
"Speaking of…how's Bob? Did we get any more information out of him?"
A wicked grin crosses her face before she laughs evilly. His screams from inside the Brazen Bull after they had locked him inside and lit the fire echoed in her head, like an old lullaby.
"Well, it was fun while it lasted. Besides, everything is in place in Aguadilla, correct? …Wonderful! Let them know I'll meet up with them afterwards to collect the package. Hold on, let me put you on speaker."
Penelope pulls the phone away, tapping it quickly.
"We good?"
"Yes, dear, I can hear you just fine."
Charlotte O'Neil's voice is heard, as soft and effortless as ever, coming out of the phone. Penelope taps again, checking the directions to her destination. The fact that some street signs were worn and others missing outright had prolonged her journey thus far.
"The Hotel is practically buzzing with excitement for your upcoming match with Ms Black and Ms Wolf. Considering you won't be going into this one at a disadvantage, it should be ever so much fun! And fighting in the town square?"
"Better than the beach for sure…took me forever to wash off all that damned sand of my soul. Those people don't have a clue what they're in for either."
"Vhodka and Sarah?"
"I meant the good people of Aguadilla, but you may as well toss those two in. This isn't going to be a wrestling match; this is going to be the real street fight. Vhodka was born just plain white trash, and fancy ain't her name…nor does it describe anything she does in the ring. She was on her back more times in that fight than the copious amount of corner-trolling hookers back in Miami. No doubt she's used to waking up dazed and confused, but this time wasn't from polishing off a bottle of whatever cheap rotgut she decided took her fancy down at Frugal MacDoogal's. It was down to a combination of being outclassed and her own stupidity."
Penelope can hear Charlotte laugh over the phone. Penelope shrugs even though it's obvious Charlotte can't see her.
"Vhodka absolutely fluked that win, and you know it, Char. She should have gone and thanked Lachlan personally because, without him, she'd be on zero points. Instead, she's on two, which…considering it fucked with Welsh's ego, leaves me torn. Regardless, there won't be any beach ball shenanigans this week, nor will there be any dodgy win."
Penelope looks up, rechecks her phone, and turns right off this main street. The side street she walks down is even darker and more dodgy than the one she just left.
"And Sarah Wolf…heh, no wonder they're such good friends. She's an even bigger disappointment. Fancy getting outsmarted by a dork named Merica. If she had the same commitment to winning that Merica does to waking up every day and tweeting the Pledge of Allegiance, she might have stood a chance. Cortes was always coming out on top, though. Anyone who handled those cursed kicks of mine and was smart enough not to have their face melt into a puddle of goo gets my vote."
"I'm sure Catalina being on Team PIC has nothing to do with that."
You can hear the sarcasm in Charlotte's voice.
"Of course not. I'm just telling it like it is. Sarah started that match like a rabid dog by attacking Merica from behind preemptively. Not exactly a bad idea, but then she totally let Catalina get the jump on her. Sarah's built like a brick shithouse Charlotte, not built for speed. That's how Catalina showed her up repeatedly, leading into her and Merica beating her ass."
"She was close to beating them both, though. Are you sure you're not underestimating her?"
"Listen, close only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades. I should know, last week I was close, remember? You get that girl frustrated, and she gets desperate. You get her desperate, and she gets lazy. She tried every submission hold in the book, and in the end, it didn't matter a lick. If she thinks I'm tapping out to her, then she's the one underestimating me."
"And if they decide to take you out two-on-one?"
"They can try…but one will still have to pin the other, which always leaves an opening for me. They can spout off about how they'll put their friendship aside, no doubt, but there will still be that half-second of hesitation and second-guessing. Would they hurt each other beyond what is necessary to get the win? That half-second is a half-second more than I'll need. No second-guessing, no hesitation. Winning is the only option Charlotte. Last week I was fighting with one arm tied behind my back and still damn near walked out victorious. This week I got two good arms, and I'll use them both to snatch that victory! Bravery is doing what you must when everything in your body screams at you to run the other way. I'm not running, and nothing is stopping me this week from doing whatever it takes. Even if it means driving my knee through the back of both their skulls…"
Penelope taps her phone again as she raises it to her ear.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm there now…yeah, I'll talk to you once I'm on my way to Aguadilla. Give Gina my love, bye."
She ends the call, placing the phone in her pocket. Looking up, Penelope eyes the dirty sign with the fading neon. La Luna Oscura. This was the place. Penelope shook her head, 'This had better be worth it.' she thought as she pushed open the door. A small bell chimed as she entered. The smell that hit her nose was hard to describe, almost like a mix of dust, mildew, and rot.
"Hola, como puedo ayudarte?"
A voice called out from beyond the doorway to Penelope's right that led to a room behind the counter. The beaded curtain obscuring what's behind parted as an old woman tottles out. She spies Penelope, who is busy looking at the random assortment of goods. Penelope could tell most of this was bogus, but a few pieces stood out beyond cobweb-covered junk.
"Señora? Qué deseas?"
She prompts again, having not received Penelope's attention before. The young woman turns her head now, walking towards the counter.
"Hablas inglés?"
"Si. What do you want, girl?"
Penelope leans on the counter, the woman eyeing her suspiciously.
"My associate Charlotte O'Neil contacted you, inquiring about a specific item. I was told she had informed you of my arrival?"
"Si…you must be la sin alma."
"And you just be the brujá she spoke of so glowingly. The item?"
"Si, I have it here, just as I told your friend. Uno momento."
She reaches under her counter, pulling out a lock box that had seen better days. She opens it, removing a small velvet pouch which she hands to Penelope. Penelope upends the pouch, a small golden fob with the remnants of a chain landing in her palm.
"It seems coming here wasn't the waste of time I anticipated it to be after all."
Penelope smiles as she examines the small item. The years have not been kind, whether on land or in the sea. Penelope turns it over, carefully inspecting it, noticing a coat of arms on the bottom.
"Are you sure this isn't a fake?"
The woman glares at Penelope, simultaneously offended and angered by her accusatory nature.
"Maldita pinche gringa, of course, it's real! Look there, on the seal perra."
She forcefully places a small eye magnifier in Penelope's palm. The kind a jeweller might use when inspecting a ring or watch movement. Penelope brings the fob onto the light, using the magnifier to get a closer look as she reads the worn seal.
"Her majesty's royal navy…Cpt. Francis Stirling…son of a bitch."
"I told you, think me some kind of liar, eh? About that, I don't lie!"
Penelope places the fob seal back into the pouch and slips it into her pocket. She opens her jacket, reaches inside, and pulls out a small stack of bills. She places them on the table in front of the woman.
"It would appear that you don't; my apologies. I believe you'll find that compensation more than adequate."
The woman gives the bills a quick rifling, appearing satisfied with the amount.
"I was also tasked with collecting a specific tome. La Oráculo de Los Condenados…"
The woman looks up from the lockbox after placing the money inside. Her face is decidedly unnerved.
"I…you have no business with that book, girl! We are done here, salir pendeja!"
The old woman points towards the door angrily and goes to leave. But she only takes a step before Penelope grabs her firmly by the wrist. The woman turns to Penelope, who brings up her free hand. She blows into her palm, the older woman getting a cloud of some sort of dust blown into her face.
"In Lapidem Converto…"
Penelope whispers the words as the woman's eyes bulge in fear, and she goes to cry out. Yet no words escape her, only guttural groans and painful snaps and cracks. Penelope lets go of her wrist, yet the woman stays seemingly frozen in place. As Penelope walks around the counter and through the beads, the eyes of the woman follow her…the only things left that can still move. Penelope returns a few moments later with a book under her arm. A few more noises leave the woman's gaping mouth. Penelope pauses, leaning in closer to her. She notices a single tear roll down the woman's cheek.
"All you had to do was give me the book you crusty old bitch. Here, for your troubles…"
Penelope smirks, reaching into her pocket and tossing a few coins on the counter. Leaving the poor woman in her certified state, Penelope flips the sign on the door to CLOSED, locks the door from the inside, and she steps through it slamming it behind her. She gives it a test, ensures it's not going to open and turns without another action, walking back the way she came.