|It was a drizzling, foggy night in the backstreets of Calypsa. The moon was half-eaten by the overcast skies, and the haze up above made the stars blurry. The lunarous-laden canal connected to Starfall runoff lazily ran past a block of shady bars and casinos, lighting the boarded-up extreme outside windows with lapis lazuli shimmers.|
Behind a jazz club, two towering male dreamkeepers in suits and shades stood by a particular woman. She wore cargo pants, a tank top, and plated combat boots. She had a well-built, curvaceous build, and the visage of a hyena. Her fur was magenta, with dark rouge-black spots, as well as the tip of her nose, her clawed digits; and her truly outrageous reagent. Her slender eyes were half-closed, gold with slit pupils. She quietly tapped her foot to the slow, sultry jazz music, floating out of the back door of the club like an oil slick - slow, dark, ominous; and in no way possible to just hurry along.
As one of her bodyguards - a white lizard with burnt orange spots - smoked his cigarette, the red glow reflected dimly in the fog and off his shades. He suddenly looked up at the approaching foot steps, and removed his cigarette to blow out a plume of smoke. A beaten-up old toad with baggy trousers and a fur cloak emerged, coughing and wheezing. "Jamal you bastard," he creaked in his reedy old voice, running a hand through his sloppy bowl cut as he waved his way past the smoke cloud. "Pepper Doolittle, why in the hell are you out back of a jazz club? Just your last name would get you anything you wanted in there!" He bobbed his head as he paused. "Ricardo, menacing as ever," he grumbled as the doberman with black hair in a ponytail flashed multiple gold teeth.
The hyena laughed. "Patsy Smisse, nice to see you too," Pepper grinned. "I'm always in the club. I just wanted to enjoy the night." She waved at the grinning, saggy old man as he passed by, but scowled as a few rough-looking young men hurried past her. She sneered as the thugs surrounded Patsy, lifting chains and lead pipes. He squawked indignantly, and made quickly to empty his pockets. Pepper was just looking away when a dull thud sounded, and Patsy fell to the ground. Both of her guards were sweating bullets, as the veins bulged in Pepper's eyes. Her arms were crossed so very tightly that her muscles were shaking. Still, she restrained her rage.
But the chattering of the villainous youths soon made her give a bloodthirsty grin. "Maaan, this jackass was loaded! With this kinda cash, we can get the goods we need to get into Norvondire! We could start our own gang!" He suddenly stopped short at the chuckling behind him. "What's so funny, you sl - " He was suddenly backhanded on the ear, falling over in a stone cold faint in the rainwater and filth.
Pepper was cracking her knuckles, making quite a show of stretching. "Thanks for giving me a reason to not sit on my anger. See, my mom raised her daughters to look out for the family business. If you plan on going to Norvondire, I'll have to teach you bugs to not get above yourselves." One thug tried to swing his chain at Pepper, but he was caught and reeled in. A single punch knocked him into a trash can, busting his cheek open.
The young man with a pipe rushed her, but Pepper swooped in under his swing. With a single uppercut, she knocked a few teeth out. The last young man tried to run with the money, but Pepper swiftly hefted the pipe, and threw it like a javelin. It caught between the thug's feet, sending him sprawling. He tried to get up, desperate to get away, and it looked like he'd be free. Then, however, Pepper was on top of him.
Literally, straddling his back. She tussled his hair, and breathed on his neck a bit. Then, she whispered, "Your ass is grass if I ever see you in Norvondire. I'm gonna watch you and your buddies until you can limp back to any boss you might have. If you do have a boss, tell him that the Doolittle Gang own the Anduruna underground. Now, stay your ass put." She rose off of him, and neared the broken, bloodied gang members.
What shocked the conscious thug was what Pepper did next. From the pockets in her pants, she retrieved a bottle of medicine, and a cloth. She uncorked the bottle with her teeth, poured a bit onto the rag, and proceeded to wipe up the blood from the thugs' wounds. Then, she gently patched them up, before not quite as gently dragging them over to their frightened comrade. "Remember what I just did until you die," she breathed, before snatching the bundles of plastic lucre out of his hands. She then carefully lifted Patsy up, and began to tuck the money back into his hidden pockets. "Spirits up above, Patsy - Anduruna have these cool places where you can store money so you don't have to carry it around with you. They call 'em 'banks.'"
Patsy grumbled quietly, but didn't complain too loudly as the shapely woman carried him back to the jazz club. "Ricardo, carry him into the club," she barked. Ricardo nodded, gently taking Pepper off of his hands and in through the door: made from a pair of welded-together two-by-two grates, and propped open with a box for milk bottles.
Returning to her former spot, Pepper stretched languidly.
What a night.
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