Warehouse 37

"You rotten bi-!" The man's obscene word was cut off by the harsh stamp of a heeled boot crushing his windpipe. The woman responsible for the action merely looked down at the gurgling dying man as one would if they'd accidentally crushed a roach underfoot and continued walking out of the alleyway strewn with unconscious or dying would-be assailants. It was a good thing she had the forethought to leave her apartment 11 minutes earlier than she usually would. Tardiness was never an excusable offense, no matter what the circumstances.

Speaking of which, she reached into her breast pocket and pulled out her pocket watch to check the time. Still just on time even with the slight hiccup. First aid would have to wait until later it would appear as she continued across the cobbled street to a familiar warehouse. The brutes had managed a few gashes on her person- one on her cheek, others on her neck, waist, thigh, and left palm- that bled still, but fortunately, nothing debilitating.

Though the looks she received as she pushed open the door to the warehouse and made her way to the stairs may say otherwise.

Just as the second hand marked the appointed hour, her fist touched the hard wood of the door, tapping out the pattern that would alert her superior of her presence. Hardly wasting a second then, she entered his office, not waiting for a call from within.

"Isa Audelia reporting, Mister Lurch, sir." She announced formally though it was hardly necessary at the point of their relationship. She gave him a short bow before walking forward and pulling her satchel forward removing the folder containing the weeks' reports. "I apologize for my current state but there was a bit of a situation on my commute here. The threat was neutralized promptly." She laid the folder onto his desk, careful not to stain the parchment with her blood, or anyone else's for that matter.

Isa had straightened up to her full height as she listened to her boss speak, her hands folded behind her back. The tip of her tongue itched with the desire to correct Mr.Lurch as her safety was irrelevant as compared to her duty to him and the company proper but she merely gave him a small bow bending at the waste.

"Again, you have my apologies Mister Lurch, sir. But I had concluded that my injuries were not life threatening and did not need immediate attention so I saw no need to deal with them when I had more pressing matters due. I will not inconvenience you with needing to replace me for my own negligence of my health. In my training, I've built up a tolerance to inconveniences such as these." She said before she paused looking up a bit as she did whenever she was recalling something.

"As for my assailants, the attacked as I was nearing the warehouse. As I was walking, I pulled my pocket watch out to check the time and see if I had enough time to stop by the bakery to pick up your Bierocks. In the reflection of the glass I caught sight of them and had the time to react before they apprehended me. They were wearing masks so I unfortunately did not get a good look at their faces, but they did know me. They called me by name and knew the route that I took to the warehouse though I change which route I take weekly as you know. They kept their conversations brief and did not elaborate on why they were doing such. From what I can gather, they wanted the report and me dead." She said such blatantly as she turned back to her satchel and flipped through the compartments before she carefully pulled out a bloody ornate dagger, holding the hilt with a handkerchief.

"From a quick topiary examination of the bodies, there was nothing that could be used to identify them or whom they were sent by. The only thing I found of interest was this blade." She set the blade down carefully on his desk, away from the papers. "Be careful handling it, it seems to be laced with a tranquilizer. As such I did not have the strength to lug the men back to the warehouse on my own and their bodies remain in the alleyway. Of the 5 that assaulted me, I knocked 3 unconscious and the remaining 2 are likely to perish from their wounds." Upon close inspection of her normally sharp eyes, one could see that her pupils were dilated, likely from the effects of the drug. Her past endurance tests served her well, the proof shown in the fact she was still standing after taking several hits from the poisoned knife.

Isa took the note without question, as she always did. She'd always followed his orders to the letter, and this wouldn't change it. She pressed the note to her chest, and gave an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. Her eyes shut as she felt her flesh and skin knit together and her mind cleared slowly. As she opened her eyes, the room immediately steadied and the edges of her vision focused and sharpened.

"Thank you Mister Lurch. I will refrain from taking the drink as I would like to participate in the interrogation if possible. My mind must be sharp and unclouded in this instance." She stated as she flexed her hand experimentally before cracking her knuckles. "Should I lead a group to retrieve the bodies before someone unfortunately stumbles across them.

Right as Lurch was about to respond to Isa, Ioul burst in the room. Ah yes, Ioul, that boy was always a boisterous one. He wasn’t even a boy anymore really, although the way he acted sometimes… Letting out a sigh, Lurch rubbed both temples for a moment before addressing the pair.

“Well, I suppose your arrival is somewhat timely, Ioul. Isa, take Ioul and a few of the boys and go get those bodies off the street. Dispose of the dead ones as we usually do and bring one of the unconscious ones to me. Whichever one you think is most likely to answer our questions. Lock the other two unconscious ones away in one of the storage closets for now.”

Offering Ioul a pointed and somewhat amused look, Lurch uncapped his liquor bottle once more, pouring a new glass and refilling his own.

“This other glass is yours—once you’ve helped move the bodies that is. And don’t let Isa do too much heavy lifting, she’s not in the condition for it regardless of what she claims. You and the other boys take care of that for her.”

   Ioul looked upon the newly poured glass with glee... Until Lurch informed him of its requirements. "Ah well, you got it boss," he said, as he spun around, nearly stepping on Isa's heels as she walked past. He closed the door behind them, making sure to let Isa go ahead, offering a half-apologetic, half-amused look.

   He had actually known about the group of thugs well before Isa's arrival. His ever-watching street rat eyes had brought him the information, hoping for a silver in reward. All too often their bread crumbs were useless, but when he got eyes on this particular group, he made a mental note to get the urchin his payment. They could have just been a group of dock hands having a five, but something about their frequent glances and lack of conversation persuaded him otherwise.

   When Isa had come into view, a gesture alerted the rest of the group that their target was near. It alerted Ioul too. And it wasn't that he wasn't interested in helping, it was just over before he got there. And seeing that she looked relatively unharmed, he decided not to let on about his presence. After she had collected herself and made it into the building, he called a few of their own thugs over to handle the unconscious and probably dead assailants.

   There were standing orders for this kind of thing and they were carried out quickly. The two dead were stripped and perused for tattoos, jewelry, or scars that might identify them and their affiliation. If there were none, they'd be dumped into the chummer and some fisherman would have a couple extra pales of slop for the waters. The other three were also dragged in and searched, left with nothing but their skivs, and locked into separate 5x5 cells under the warehouse.

   Everything was probably taken care of before the two had even left Lurch's office. Next he'd sift through the evidence his men had gathered, and do a quick search of the bodies himself to see if anything clicked.

   Before that though, because he hadn't mentioned any of this to Isa and she was nearly to the outer doors, he called to her, "over here, Ees. I already took care of it." The impish grin grew twofold.

   Holding his hands up in a gesture of mock surrender, Ioul signaled his defeat on the matter. "Okay, okay." He knew she was sensitive about her name, but getting her worked up was just too amusing most of the time.

   "You don't think the boss keeps me around because I'm a fun guy, do you? He probably already knows or suspects that I've taken care of it. I just wanted to tease you a little. No smiles this year either huh?" he ribbed.

   "Anyway, let's go see what your suitors were up to before you happened to them." He motioned her to follow into the area reserved for these things. "We'll have to grab the smartest looking one and take him up to the boss."

   Ioul smiled as he walked away from Isa, enjoying her threat to investigate the area she had been attacked. He hadn’t done it personally, but he had faith in his operators. He felt she’d be relieved but just a little annoyed when she found it in good order.

   Reaching the steps down to the holding cells, he called ahead “entering with Isa”. It might have seemed to others like a pointless formality, but there were safeguards in place in the case of a rival “business” or lawmen assaulting the warehouse.

   Once they’d reached the bottom of the steps, the dimly lit and somewhat damp room at the landing had little to greet them save a low table and some stools. Playing cards and half-filled cups decorated the table, and one of the stools was tipped on its side, a victim of Ioul’s men’s dash to the street for the retrieval. A large, steel barred portcullis was attached to the ceiling above, held by large hooks. The portcullis could be dropped by means of a switch on the inside of the proceeding tunnel, and then locked in place by metal rods in the floor of the hallway - both inoperable from the room’s interior. A set of small cranks behind the switch on either side could be used to rotate the portcullis back to the ceiling by means of a geared system in the walls. Of course, that wasn’t the only way out of the tunnel…

   “Boss, we’ve got two dead and three wounded,” one of the men reported from inside the hallways, immediately next to another steel barred gate, set in the side of the tunnel. There were several more of these gates along the wall before the passage ended in a final fully steel door. Looking from Ioul to Isa and back to Ioul, he continued. “She did a number on ‘em. Two are still out and the one that isn’t will probably never walk again without a crutch.” The man shivered a little. “He’s conscious, but not talking.”

   “We didn’t find anything on them other than a note with a description of the clockwo-” The man froze, his eyes suddenly locked on Isa’s. He hurried looked away and corrected himself. “Of Miss Audelia, and her name and their weapons. No markings on their clothes or persons to indicate who sent them. Their stuff is in the black room when you want it, and the corpses are in the red room.”

   “Thanks Gipp,” Ioul replied. “See that the other two stay alive until we can get to them.” Gipp nodded back, meeting Isa’s eyes one last time before turning and heading deeper into the passage. Gipp was a feared man in the circles he ran, a savant with short blades, but even he was put off by the legends surrounding Isa’s martial prowess, and the subsequent tragedy of those who had survived a tussle with her.

   Ioul motioned Isa towards the gate where Gipp had been standing guard. “Whenever you’re ready, Miss Audelia,” he said with a grin.

"You seem impatient."

The voice comes from the side, likely catching her off guard. There were two people, one was a slim woman dressed in leather pants and a light silk shirt. Her skin was a deep olive colour and she had a woman's figure, though it was lean with muscle. Her features were fair, pert nose, dainty chin, full lips, and high cheekbones. All framed with jet black hair cut short, but long enough to show that if it was longer it would be curly.

The man was, for lack of a better word, an absolute beast. He was nearly seven feet tall, with shoulders so broad that he might have trouble making it through doors. His biceps are so massive that they were almost as wide around as Maripha's waist and the rest of him reflected that musculature. His skin is pale, head shaved bald, his jaw square, his nose flat, his brow low and brutish. He could have not been more dissimilar to the woman except they had the same eyes.

Dark brown, almost black, and behind them, there was an absence. It was hard to describe but when looking at the two for a moment it was more like looking at a painting of a person rather than at the genuine article. Although that may just be because they were both unnatural still and quiet, at least, at first. Then the woman is smiling and walking up to Maripha and that first impression seems to melt away as the woman seems as friendly as can be.

"You must be the new dealer. I've heard good things." The woman says extending her hand. "I trust you brought our payment." If Maripha glanced back at the man she would note that he was carrying a satchel and the relationship becomes clear. The woman was the one who did the talking and the man was the one who carried the product... and likely dealt with any problems should they arise. A classic pairing for sure, especially int he criminal underworld where a woman could often be underestimated.

The woman catches the bag of coins and tethers it to her belt. She doesn't check the amount which meant she either trusted Maripha, unlikely, or she knew she could kill the demoness if she tried to screw her. With a grin, she crooks a finger at the big man behind her and he comes up and hands her a small wooden box.

Setting it on the floor she kicks it to Maripha and the box slides across the floor easily. Inside is row after row of Blue Blood in little glass vials. About eight dozen total. "I am sure that it will do you all kind of good." The woman says with a deep chuckle. If she was worried that a demon was taking an interest in her product, again, there is no sign. Indeed, her expression had barely changed from the friendly smile she'd put on at the beginning of the conversation.