Unlikely Duo


Francis_icon.gif Penny_icon.gif


What happens when a young woman gets caught for loitering and illegal parking by a hard nosed cop only to be interrupted by a slugite demon?

Date It Happened:

April 09, 2002

Log Title

Unlikely Duo


South Downtown L.A.

Downtown Los Angeles is widely known as the business hub of the city. Filled to the brim with art institutions, sports facilities, skyscrapers and the corporations who own them, it is also home to unique bazaars (such as the effervescent Grand Central Market) that offer equally unique shopping experiences. Here, one can find much of what makes Los Angeles the city that it is: Union Station, which pumps life into the area by way of the subway and rail networks; the main office of the Los Angeles Times; Parker Center, the headquarters of the LAPD; Little Tokyo, which contains a great deal of Japanese-based businesses, as well as the Japanese American National Museum; and finally, the U.S. Bank Tower — the seventh-tallest building in the United States.


Today this quirky blonde's hair has been tinted on the top layers of her locks with a pale lavender shade, a rich blue streak run through a large chunk of her bangs, hanging over her forehead obscuring her eyebrows for the most part as it hangs at a sideways angle. It hangs straight today, curving inward to frame her face, whisps at the neck flipping upward slightly. Her make-up is slightly subdued today as well. Purple contact lenses making her hazel eyes an unnatural shade of lavender as well. Those eyes are lined with a deep purple, almost black eyeliner at the edges as well as flairs of bright neon green and a small series of sparkly blue teardrops are painted on under the middle of her right eye, curving over the roundness of her cheek. Her nose is mostly straight, a pair of well shaped lips are glossed over with a mauve shade of shiny lipgloss. A few freckles dot her face here and there, a small cluster in a triangular pattering on the left side of one cheek.

Only standing about 5'4 she is curvy for her stature. An off the shoulder black shirt hangs asymmetrically down over her hip, streaks of electric blue shot through the shimmery material that hugs her frame, tied at the top of the shoulder. Black fingerless leather tactical gloves are on her hands, little holes where the knuckles are for breathability. On her hips she wears a pair of hot pink military style pants with copious pockets, zippers and buttons. A few chains are looped around the hips going from beltloop to pockets. The waistline of the pants hang low revealing a bit of her belly and hipbones. Several dangly thin metal bracelets of all colors jangle around her wrists. An overall guess at her weight might put her between 110 and 120. Her feet are protected from the weather and elements by the sturdy violet Doc Martins on her feet.

His features look like they were hacked out of granite by a sculptor with more enthusiasm than skill. He's not bad looking, really, but he can't be described as anything but harsh-faced. The stern lines and set immobility of someone who's spent his life guarding his expression don't help either. The deep-set eyes, however, are a startling shade of blue, like a gas flame. His hair is straight, blonde, and cut short.

To put it bluntly, he's big. He's tall, but not lanky or skinny. He's well muscled, but lacks the lumbering quality of one who's put on muscle by nothing more than gym work.

His suit is beautifully tailored, in a medium gray - presumably both to hide the bulge of the gun under his shoulder, and to keep him from looking like an aspiring mafioso.

It's not terribly unusual to see a few folks out and about this time of night in this area. 3am, the time normal people are in bed and usually only the hookers, johns, pimps, drug dealers, gang bangers, and of course.. cops are the typical fare that one finds out here. In the off street parking lot to the Japanese Tea House off on the darker side street the beat up, multi-hued shades of yellow AMC Gremlin sits, as it has sat for about a week now, not moving. There are things over the windows, possibly clothes or towels. It's hard to tell with the low lighting of the parking lot. The car moves a little now and then. One might even be lead to believe that there were things going on in the car that normaly is taken to some tawdry motel. But it stops now and then with just a little creak or protest of shocks. A dim light glows from inside where the fabric over the windows obscure the sight.

It's been a bad week for Francis Doakes. Bad enough that he's covering an assignment for Vice, and in uniform. He looks like nothing so much as a Rottweiler kept too long on too short a chain - gloweringly resentful of the world at large. Nominally out there to try and catch a john responsible for violence against the hookers, he radiates hostility to the point that even those who'd harass a lone cop find it wiser to leave well enough alone. Nodding lazily to a pair of soiled doves who greet him by name, he pads over to rap a knuckle on the Gremlin's window.

All movement stops in the car and a tiny little bit of towel is pulled back from the car window as the occupant peeks out a bit but doesn't open the door. There's some movement there again and the nearly shot shocks squeak a bit. The door still does not open but from the back hatch there is a squeak and a small, slim figure tries to slip out of it. Unfortunately for Penny the shoulder strap of her messenger bag gets caught on the back latch and she lands face down on the asphalt in her pajamas, her fuzzy pink bunny slippers in the air, one leg still in the car, one out on the ground as she groans softly. "So much for a smooth escape." she groans to herself.

Bunny slippers. Somehow, that's more perplexing than if he'd caught her with a john. The latter, he was sort of expecting. "I take it I woke you?" he notes, dryly, one golden brow heading for his hairline with dispatch.

Penny winces and doesn't look back as she answers, not recognizing the scary cop dude she's seen before. "Going to bed actually." she says and rolls over to her back, leaving that one foot up in the car as she tries to get the little birdies and stars to stop swirling around her head, mumbling "At least you weren't five minutes sooner and caught me changing." Letting out a labored and weary sigh she opens her eyes and looks up at you, blinking a bit, flinching "Oh crap." she says under her breath as she sees who it was and a flicker of fear passes through her eyes.

"Doakes, actually," he says, completely deadpan. The inside of her car gets a quick looking-over. "You know this is about the worst possible place to loiter if you're going to sleep in your car?" Well, surely she must. Now if not before.

Penny manages to get untangled and separate herself from the car enough to stand up, the floppy little bunny ears of the slippers bouncing around as she stands there in a pair of faded pink pajamas on the asphalt, fidgeting. "Actually." No Penny. Stop.. don't release your inner smart-ass. Halt! …or so her inner 'sane' voice tells her as she feels her mouth moving before her brain. "….when I parked down in South Central was the worst. Gang bangers.. lots of drive bys." She blows a bit of her hair, green and pink streaks in it today, out of her eyes and off her forehead as she stands there and prepares for the usual harassment. It wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last. But it was never pleasant. "Just hey.. are you one of those crooked pi…" she does manage to stop herself this time and correct saying the right term instead of pig "..cops that like to pretend to do your job just to feel up the chicks? Cause if so can we schedule it another time. I've had a rough night."

"Since I don't have a fetish for unkempt schoolgirls, you're sheerly out of luck in getting your share of police harassment tonight," Frances says, letting his eyes half-lid. " Though to answer your question, no, I don't shake anyone down, for sex or for money." No point in denying that some cops do." More seriously, I can get you into a shelter if that's what you need."

Penny wrinkles her nose at the offer and shakes her head quickly. "No man.. I'm cool. I got my wheels." she says and fidgets, rubbing her arm slowly as if taking a chill. "You know.." she adds quickly and tosses her hair out of her eyes ".. till I get more permanent digs. I got a job. I'm not some homeless schmuck." she says and bites her bottom lip. "Did ah.. did the owners complain? Cause I've been eatin there. Payin an all." she says nervously as she fidgets.

Francis points out, "You're sleeping in a -car-. In a really terrible neighborhood," His tone is patient. "This isn't a campground," he adds. "You're going to have to find somewhere else."

Penny sighs and rubs a hand over her face. She really wasn't looking forward to having to scope out a place to park. It was hard enough to find her way around in the daylight, in the dark she's likely to end up in the middle of gang turf…..again! She closes the hatch on the Gremlin hiding away the sleeping bag and suitcase inside as well as the pizza box and 2 liter of Coke. "Fine… whatever dude.." she says irritably. As she walks around the side of the car, passing him she mutters "Serve and protect my a…" but her words taper off as she sees the .. the thing over on the far side of the parking lot, all the gelatinous, green mucusy stuff dripping off it as it walks, or rather skulks toward the pair by the car. Her face goes ashen and she swallows hard. The thing was at least nine feet tall and five feet wide with two legs that bend the wrong way at the knees and four arms, two of which were grotesquely small in comparison and clacking their long talons together. It had several mouths all over the large slope of it's face and at least twelve tiny, beady little red/black eyes high on it's forehead.

He's about to say something snide in return. But Francis' jaw snaps shut with an audible click. The next order out of his mouth is sufficiently flat to make a Terminator sound like a raging drama queen. "Get in the car," he says, going nearly as pale himself. "And drive," He's unholstered his gun, though there's been no apparent motion of his hand. Just that quick, or else he's David Copperfield.

Penny isn't about to argue with him a bit. Oh no.. but just as she reaches for the handle she remembers a crucial bit of information that she didn't think of when she shut the hatch, the click of the locked door, not opening reminding her. "Oh crap!" she whispers under her breath lightly, trying the handle a few more times frantically.

The thing creeps closer and so does it's stench, oozing from it with those mucusy drips of goo globs to the ground as it gets closer and clacks it's jaws a bit on those scattered mouths. A clackety sound like a language coming from it. There is a hiss and a gaping of jaws as it reaches the car, crouching down slightly on the other side of it.

Is there really any point in reading a monster its Miranda rights? Francis…suspects not. Besides, it probably doesn't speak English. Assuming it speaks at all. However, long habit kicks in, and the monster is informed, at a high volume, that is has the right to remain silent, and that anything it says can and will be used against it in a court of law. It is to laugh. Once he's finished his little recitation, he takes careful aim, and starts unloading the pistol into it. The flash is blinding, and the echoes boom off the confines of the brick walls.

Penny stops pulling on the door handle and turns her head, -gaping- at Francis. Yes, jaw open, eyes wide, gaping. "Are you -SERIOUS-?!?" she says but further words of sharp wit are cut off as she hears the deafening echo of the gun's reports and out of habit hits the deck, ducking down on that side of the car, her fuzzy pink bunny eared slippers sticking out from the front bumper as she covers her ears. A big mistake it would turn out.

As the bits of lead pour into the creature it lets out an unearthly yeowl and hisses, that clacking noises of it's jaws working more quickly as it staggers a bit but does not fall. Three of those mouths open and from them shoots a projectile green, slimy mucus that is aimed at Francis and his gun. From it's abdomen shoots out a very octopi-like tendril complete with suckers all along it's slimy length as it wraps around Penny's bunny clad ankle, jerking her body roughly as it begins to drag her in toward it, her fingers scrabbling at the pavement as she tries to find something to cling onto, screaming.

This is like a bad fifties monster movie. For serious. Francis is….abruptly covered in vomit along one side, as he had sense enough to turn away at least a little. But he advances again, trying to aim between those eyes. Let's hope it doesn't carry its brain in it ass, or they are all just flat out of luck.

Straight out of a drive-in movie. Yep. Penny is dragged along the pavement and to the monster thing quickly, complete with those oh so pleasant sucking and squishing noises as it pulls her into the tiny talon tipped arms in the front of it. A long arcing sweep of it's longer and more lethal hands, taking a swipe at the car making it rock and the screech of talons on metal, digging furrows in the paint of the solid steel machine. Ahhh one good thing about an old beater of a car. Solid.

Wriggling and gasping when she can, Penny is able to draw in a breath as she's held close and squirms against the thing, that hideous green slime beginning to cover her from head to bunny slippered toe , forming a seal over her face and mouth with the slime, making it hard to breath. Terrified, high pitched sounds leaving her throat muffled as she kicks and claws to no avail.

They -are- flat out of luck. He's pulled his radio to call for backup, explaining only that there's some sort of large and vicious animal on the loose. And since the gun has done precisely nothing in terms of causing this thing distress, he pulls a knife from his boot, not much longer than his hand, and swipes at one of those tentacles. His face is rigid with anger, but there's not so much actual surprise there. Drooling shock comes later. If there is a later.

Where the bullets failed the blade seems to make some headway, a bit of wriggling tentacle goodness lopped off and wriggling on the ground before it seems to deflate and dehydrate and wither up on the pavement as the thing lets out an unearthly howl of pain and staggers. It's grip on Penny is loosened and she manages to get a breath in before screaming again "Kill it! KILL IT!", her face and head covered as she tries to claw at the stuff beginning to solidify on her face and suffocate her but as soon as it's gone there is more as it reestablishes it's grip and pulls her in tighter. As if fearful of the blade the thing begins to slink backwards on those oddly bent legs, trying to get away from Francis but not relinquishing it's trapped victim.

Okay. There's no one immediately to hand. Most of the lowlifes in the area have fled. Which means that Francis is free to get really…unorthodox with this. And abruptly, the monster's back is enveloped in a sheet of flame, just as Frank makes a contemptuous little motion with his free hand. French fried alien, coming right up.

If the howl before were bone chilling the one that leaves the things' mouths is enough to cause cardiac arrest in it's eerie, high pitched, multi-voiced shriek of pain as the fire leaps across it's back and begins to envelop it in licking tongues of red and orange, the fire turning strange purples and blues as the slime on the demon catches fire and begins to cook. In it's panic it drops the squirming, struggling blonde on the ground as it tries to turn to retreat. The direction in which it heads reveals an open manhole that leads to the sewer, that would explain a lot about the smell of the thing. Or maybe the thing is what made the sewer so foul. It's a toss up.

Squirming on the ground, trying in vain to get the hardening good from her face Penny thrashes about and acts in a blind panic, her fingernails clawing at the stuff and getting nowhere as her lungs scream for air. Despite the feel of the wet slime that is hardening she feels dry, too dry, dehydrated from just that brief contact with the thing. Tiny little feet kick back and forth in frustration and fear, floppy bunny ears clacking on the pavement and shattering some of the hardened goo on their tips.

He at least attempts to get another gout of flame on the thing, now that it's released the unfortunate girl. Frank hastily sheathes his weapons, and kneels to tend her. "Hey, hey, hey. It's gone. How badly are you hurt?" he says, as he tries to peel that crap away from her face.

Perhaps it is the panic in which she is in that keeps her from getting the stuff off herself but the almost taffy like stuff begins to bend and peel slowly as Francis' fingers begin to work up under the stuff. Chest rising and falling harshly and rapidly becomes the only thing that moves on her, her eyes wide and full of fear, that cool kid facade long gone the face of a slow agonizing death. Sitting there, as soon as the corner of her mouth is freed she sucks in a much needed sliver of oxygen and reaches up trying to get the rest of the stuff off before it solidifies completely. There is another howl of pain as the second jet of fire manages to catch the demon as it slips through the sewer hole and there is a splash and hiss of flames extinguishing as it flees.

He's at least trying to get her to focus on him. "Hey. Look at me," he says, but his tone is much less curt than it was, as he kneels beside her. "Did it hurt you?" he repeats, picking the stuff away from her face with surprising delicacy. There's a glance back over his shoulder, as he realizes the monster has more or less fled entirely.

Penny coughs and sputters as the goo is peeled away carefully, dropped pieces shattering like rock candy on the ground as they fall showing how close it all came to be perfectly solid and suffocating her. She trembles as she draws in those sweet lungfulls of air in whooping gasps and her hands grip onto Francis' arms, nodding. Confused, not understanding what she's nodding about, dazed.

Considering where they are, it'll be some little while before the police presence multiplies into anything useful. He picks off the monster goo as fast as he can, hands surprisingly delicate, considering. He looks her over, and then simply picks her up in his arms, like a groom carrying his bride over the thresh-hold.

Penny doesn't fight or struggle, which is saying a LOT considering her innate mistrust of The Man. She still breathes heavily, those bunny slippers and pink, totally out of character pajamas not so cute as they were before. Her colorful head rests in the crook of his shoulder as she tries to get her bearings "What…. the HELL… was that thing?!?!" she asks in a small, scared voice. "I…I've seen a LOT of stuff but that.. that was.. just.. " She shivers all over and feels her stomach lurch a bit though not getting sick ".. that was like Hentai nightmare stuff!"

"I'm not taking you anywhere," he soothes her, as he settles her in the back seat of the police car. "This is just a safe place to rest for a second." This close, he smells of soap, gun oil, and an aftershave surprisingly expensive for a cop. "I wanna make sure you aren't hurt. I don't know what that was," he says, with surprising calm. Perhaps he, too, has seen things like that before.

Penny sits with her legs bent at the opening of the door, not letting the door close on her, too paranoid for that. She looks…. paler than normal, a little green and it's not just the goo that clings to her, her lips dry and cracked. Her fingers are a bit scraped up and a couple of broken fingernails but nothing life threatening. Under the pajamas there will be bruises from where she was held and around one skinny ankle there is a burny, bruisy place where the tentacle had wrapped around and dragged her to it. "I'm…. super parched.. Like whoa Sahara." she says, looking a bit weak and light headed. "Otherwise freaked the hell out and out a pair of pj's and slippers, I'm fine." she tries to reassure.

This police car must be more like a clown car. Because he keeps producing stuff out of it that you'd not expect. One of which is a bottle of spring water, which gets handed to her. "Here, drink up," he says, before noting, "Lemme see your ankle. Looks like it got you pretty good there,"

Penny takes the water, perhaps not as gratefully shown as it is felt, old habits dying hard. But she does open the bottle and chugs nearly half of it down before she stops to take a breath. "I swear it was like it was… sucking all the water out of me. I just got all dry mouthed and my skin got itchy and dry feeling even with the slime on it. Euugghhh!" she says and shivers. A sharp hiss of pain is heard from between her teeth as she flinches when he touches her ankle. "Remind me to carry around lots of salt next time. Maybe it's like a slug.. dry it up and it dies." she says, forming some fairly surprisingly logical conclusions for a seemingly out of the loop young chick.

Francis's lip curls. "That doesn't look good," he says, a master of understatement. "I….perhaps it was." There's a snort at the idea of it curling up like a slug. "If only it were that easy. Though you never know…." He glances up at her, blue eyes keen. "Seen a lot of monsters like that?"

Penny shakes her head quickly, those colorful strands hanging down where the chunks of dried slime haven't hardened. She is clearly intentionally ignoring that part, knowing she would freak out like a little wuss if she knew it was in her hair , or rather acknowledged it being there. "No… nothing like that. Seen some other stuff. scary stuff but that was a first." she says and grits her teeth as she turns her ankle slowly, testing to make sure it wasn't broken or sprained, only the burns and bruises creating the pain there.

He is no doubt going to utterly regret making this offer later, but…."Listen," he says, finally, leaning back a little from the police car door. "If you're willing to trust me, you can stay at my place. I've got a spare bedroom, a place to park your car," He settles his hands on his thighs, remaining crouched and balanced on his heels, easily.

Penny raises her head to look him in the eyes a long moment, distrust there apparent as she remains like that without speaking. In those hazel eyes he can see what he's likely seen a thousand times over in countless abused street kids. Guarded emotions, fear, suspicion, and something else. what they all have and none of them ever admit, …a longing to belong somewhere. To be wanted. She knows it's risky. Knows she shouldn't. Especially with him being a cop. Tilting her head she bites her bottom lip, buying a little time and tipping the water bottle back up to drink deeply again. "Lets get a few things straight first." she says, that bristling tough gal thing coming back a bit as she tries to make herself feel better about it by seeming to be in control. "I'm not into that whole "ooh Daddy' scene I don't turn tricks, I don't talk about my life. I'm not a thief and I don't need my soul saved or some white knight to rescue me." The recent events not withstanding. "And I don't plan to be there longer than it takes to get a few zzz's." She shivers "Besides man.. you scare the hell outta me."

"That's okay," Francis says, letting his eyes half-lid. It gives him the look of a sleepy lion. "I don't go for teenage girls. I'm not a reporter. I don't proselytize. And so long as you don't steal my stuff, we're fine. I do?" he says, with mock innocence. "Why's that?"

Penny murmurs more to herself, looking confused at the word "Prostellawhatsit?" It's said quietly and she frowns, feeling kinda stupid. Ah well.. high school drop out and all. Chewing her bottom lip a moment she shivers a bit and instead of just saying that he has some strange air about him that reeks 'killer' she settles for "Cause I aint had the most fly times with cops man. Not all of them.. well in my experience most of them are not the protect and serve types. More of the abuse their authority and terrorize types." It's not entirely a lie.

He pulls a business card out of the pocket of his uniform, scratches his address on it with a pen pulled from yet another pocket, proffers it to her between two fingers. "You got enough gas in your car to make it there?" It's in a decent neighborhood, happily. "Me, I'm about to go off shift, and I gotta take this back to the precinct. I'm not going to force you, but if you want, I'll be there in about an hour."

Penny considers the card, taking it and looking it over a moment, at the name and the address as she bites her bottom lip again and debates, still shivering a bit from the encounter, not the weather. The draw of a long hot shower is too tempting to pass up. She nods and palms the card "I'll think about it." she says with no conviction, not wanting to seem too eager. As she stands she looks over at the car and frowns before adding "One problem…." she pauses and looks back at you.. "Got a slim jim? The car is locked."

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