2007-03-02: The 1.5 Pound Trap


Jane_icon.gif Identity_icon.gif Orion_icon.gif


Jane is met by a man, a woman, and their dog.

Date It Happened: March 2nd, 2007

The 1.5 Pound Trap

East Village, NYC

As the afternoon turns to evening, a young woman in winter coat, jeans, and hooded sweatshirt walks into the East Village. Over one shoulder is a guitar, the other has a backpack. In one hand is a small amp. Jane's coming to see a group of musicians she met a few days ago. One's a female bassist, slightly shorter than she is. Another, the six foot drummer with the unruly semi-long hair. The third is a blond keyboardist, about 5' 10". Arriving a bit early at the agreed upon place, a club frequented by beginning bands, she watches people and waits while setting the case down and taking her guitar out of it. This could be it, the start of something she'd hoped to recapture since college, before law school.

Identity walks through the East Village with a delicate black vinyl lash in hand. At the other end of the leash is a tiny puppy. He probably barely weighs two pounds, from the look of him. He's a Min Pin, all perky and trotting along like he owns the place. The dark haired woman pauses as her puppy takes particular interest in the wheel of a stopped stroller.

A tall man in a business-like suit strides alongside Identity. When the Min Pin pauses, so too does the tall man, eyeing the dog with something not unlike exasperation. For the moment he says nothing, just keeps his hands jammed in the pockets of his overcoat as he waits quasi-patiently for the dog and its owner to conclude their business with the stroller.

While scanning people, looking for the musicians she's supposed to meet, Jane spots the pair with that dog. These days, that sort of thing catches her attention, but this time it's not held long. She doesn't see much likelihood a canine that small would get away and be called to heel with an ultrasonic whistle. Her eyes move on, back to looking for the other players. The clock on her cellphone is consulted moments later; maybe they're late.

Identity glances down after the pup gives a little squirt to the gods of strollers, then she continues on her way. "Troll, save some for that bitch across the hall. If we time it right, you can get her shoes on the way home." She glances over to Orion. "You look tense."

"I've never been particularly fond of this part of the job," replies Orion. He is, however, lopsidedly smirking at the fact that Identity has named her puppy (MADE OF PURE ADORIBALZ) 'Troll'. The tall man casts a glance toward Jane, letting it pass right by her and on up the street a ways before sliding back across the musician and fixing on Identity once more. "Yourself?"

Little further notice is taken of the man and woman with miniature stroller-fouling pet. Jane looks for her contacts a few moments longer. She resolves to keep her hands busy while waiting, and presently fingers are moving across strings and frets to make sound at low volume. Anyone within earshot at that point, perhaps ten feet, would pick up the opening bars of Queensryche's Silent Lucidity.

Id puppy and Elle's puppy are from a litter. It had to be Troll. Elle's is Goblin. "This is the only part that doesn't bore me to tears," she replies. "Pick up the pace, and cheer the fuck up." She whistles for Troll to pick it up, too. "I have dinner plans, and you're bringin' me down." She wanders toward the street performers, and crinkles a bag of snack food in one hand. She offers it to Orion. "Cheeto?"

Oooh, Cheetos! Orion reaches out and into the bag to grab a handful. "MMmm… Well, I suppose I can cheer up if you're going to provide some delicious snack food," he remarks, smile turning rather large as he attempts to feed his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, Granger keeps watch of Jane; carefully counting down the distance until they're within striking range.

Just one performer, the targeted guitarist. The people she was supposed to meet? Still not in sight. Not that it's really been that long since she got her to wait. Jane continues to play, her voice quietly joining in during son's progress. For this one she's at the low end of her vocal range, something mezzo-soprano. Her attention is absorbed by what she's playing, the focus goes into it.

Identity flips open her phone and beep boops through a few screens until she's found what she's looking for. She squints at it for a moment, then nods to herself. "Won't be long." And it wont, they're practically within range now. She turns her eyes to the performing woman. "Troll, behave," she admonishes the dog, before sliding a hand into her pocket as she approaches. Going for a tip?

Granger smiles genially to Jane as he and Identity approach. Both of his hands remain in his overcoat's pockets, his eyes fixing on her as he draws nearer still. He'll wait for The Professional's signal to go; he is, after all, not nearly so terribly experienced as Identity in matters like these.

It's not an uncommon thing when she plays outdoors, someone approaching with a hand entering a pocket. Being concentrated on the music as she is, it only draws the briefest flicker of a glance as Jane's fingers keep moving. "… Your mind tricked you to feel the pain…" Her case is on the pavement, left open.

Identity digs around in her pocket for a moment, and comes out with a couple of folded dollars. She tosses them toward the case, and smiles slightly, glancing to Granger as he takes in the music as well. Troll, meanwhile, takes an interest in chasing the dollars. She doesn't seem to notice, at first, as the puppy takes up residence in the case, and noses the money.

Orion looks to Identity for a half-second, identifying her look before looking toward Jane. He waits precisely two seconds before he drops to one knee in front of Jane's case. The tall man reaches out for Troll and, in faux upset tones, cries, "Troll! No! Don't go on the lady's money!"

What the? She turns toward the case on hearing that, her eyes widening a bit. Jane stops playing, her attention on the man and dog as he moves to preserve the purity of her instrument's house. "Thanks," she offers in advance, as visions of how long it'd take to dry that thing out and get rid of whatever smell it might leave. "Seems she likes music, but the dog doesn't, yeah?"

There is very little warning for the distracted-by-puppy Jane before Id's hand comes out of her pocket again, she steps forward, to bring herself closer to the musician, and a high powered taser sparks to life in her hand. Though it isn't her preferred method of attack, this is more discreet and less… permanently disabling. Bzzzt incoming!

Caught unaware, the taser makes contact between her ribs and she jerks. The woman's body goes stiff, her fingers twitching across the guitar's strings to make an unpleasant sound as her knees buckle. Her mouth opens to scream, it appears, but no sound emerges. If it's possible to make her vocal chords work in this situation, there might well be an impact on glass within twenty feet of her just before Jane goes down. Her body crumples up, both woman and guitar falling toward case, man, and dog.

Id steps forward to catch Jane, one hand to her instrument. She grunts. "Granger." Playing chivalrous to the limp girl is testing her balance. "Little help?" Troll, meanwhile, gnaws happily on the folded money, trying to get at the bacon bit inside.

Granger jerks his head backward as Jane starts to collapse. He catches her in both arms, but balances her in one just long enough to put her guitar into the money and dog-filled case, kicking it shut. The tall man stands up, carefully swinging Jane into such a position that it appears he's helping to carry a drunken friend somewhere. "Shall we go?" he replies to Id, starting to move on up the street.

Depending on how well they know her, they might well guage she didn't get out that scream before she passed out, as there doesn't seem to be any shattering glass in the air, but then again maybe there's just none in range. In either case, she's out, eyes closed and twitching a bit while offering zero resistance as the unconscious tend to be.

Identity collects Jane's belongings briefly, and tugs Troll's leash. "Come, you little demon." She closes the case, leaving the money and money bits inside, and straightens. "To the Company mobile." The sarcasm is understated.

The tall man smirks broadly at Identity's comment, laughing quietly as he moves up the street toward the "Company mobile" as it has been helpfully stationed ahead of time. Granger chuckles for a few more moments before, presumably, we fade to black?

When she wakes up, Jane will be wherever they're planning to take her.

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