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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 1, 2013 23:19:35 GMT -6
User: Blueeyeddevil Character: Reese Cordova Apartment: The young dancer has officially moved out of the dorms and into her own place. It small, but modern and cute. Splashes of red give it color and a vibrancy that matches that of the occupant. |
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Post by The Exodus on Mar 2, 2013 0:23:46 GMT -6
Santiago Ortiz
It had been a harrowing few hours since eradicating the Mafiya infestation in Le Peripherie. What Santiago had seen as a glorified pest control job had turned into something of a personal affair. He’d taken a liking to the Tarasova kid helping him out; the Russian bartender had been indispensable in tracking down the Mafiya.
Of course, in the firefight, Tarasova had been more than a bit preoccupied. The Mafiya had captured Tarasova’s girlfriend – or from what Santiago could gather, Tarasova’s girlfriend – and held her hostage. Killed her, too. Poor b*stard had every reason to be preoccupied. Santiago knew the feeling better than he cared to admit. It had shaken him. Not much shook him. But after he’d gotten off the phone with Georgette, when he’d showered and gotten the blood and gun residue off his skin, when he tried to go to sleep, all Santiago could think of was that fifteen years ago – more than fifteen years ago now – he’d caused the death of a young woman he might have loved. Gisele’s memory haunted him now more than ever.
These days, Santiago wasn’t in love, but there was a girl he thought was more than a little special. Reese Cordova was his best friend and she inspired a set of worried, tender emotions in Santiago that no one else could. Santiago rode his motorcycle to her new apartment today, showered but ill-rested, to check on her. At her doorstep, he found the newspaper. Santiago picked it up and rang the doorbell.
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 2, 2013 0:48:12 GMT -6
Reese Cordova
She had been settling into her new apartment wonderfully. She had little personal touches all around. There pictures of her and her friends and family hanging up on the walls, her ballet shoes slung over the back of a chair, her favorite fleece blanket waded up on the couch from where she had been watching a movie last night. It was all the little thing like that said home to Reese. And her apartment was slowly becoming home to her. It had been strange to move out of the Opera House dorms but at 25 years old, she should be more than capable of living on her own. It was about time, really.
At the moment she was curled up in bed and fast asleep. The sound of her doorbell suddenly ringing pulled her out of the land of sleep. She blinked in confusion for a moment before slowly getting up and throwing her bright pink robe on over her black camisole and black and white polka dot pants. She slid into her fuzzy blue house shoes and went to answer. Her short dark hair was going in all different directions but her mind was still a little foggy with sleep so she couldn't really bring herself to care.
Opening the door, her eyes widened with surprise to see Santiago there. A smile slowly spread across her face. "Santiago!" she cried happily, reaching out to hug him before glancing up at him again. "Come in! Come in!" She stepped aside and ushered him him. She gave a quick yawn before she smiled at him again. "What time is it? Is it even 9 o'clock yet? What are you doing here?" While she was always happy to see her best friend, she was curious what had brought him over to her apartment this early.
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Post by The Exodus on Mar 2, 2013 1:07:02 GMT -6
Santiago Ortiz
Reese wore pajamas and a bathrobe when she opened the door. Sleep clung to her eyes for a moment; they snapped open wide when she met Santiago’s gaze. And a smile, slow and steady, spread across her lips. Inside of his chest, Santiago felt something wriggle around happily. Reese was alive and well. She reached out to hug him. Reese was warm and felt good in Santiago’s arms. Santiago, who seldom hugged anyone, wrapped his arms around her tightly. Reese said his name happily and relief spread to Santiago’s fingers and face and toes. But then the hug was over and Reese ushered him inside her apartment.
The living room really looked lived in. Reese’s prized ballet shoes draped over the back of her chair; photographs and pictures lined the walls. Santiago usually felt stiff and unwelcome in other people’s homes. But in Reese’s living room, he felt his shoulders – tight and tense though they were – sag a little, relaxed. He turned to see Reese shut the door and stifle a yawn.
"What time is it?” she asked. “Is it even 9 o'clock yet? What are you doing here?"
“Just checking on you,” Santiago said with careful casualness. “I see you’re all settled in.”
He didn’t need to give Reese a reason to worry. This sunlit apartment seemed worlds away from the Le Peripherie alleyway Santiago had passed most of the night and the morgue in which he had spent the morning. It even seemed like another dimension than his own apartment, which had been gloomy at best when he returned in the small hours of morning today.
Of course, this wasn’t another world, another dimension. And though Santiago had put bullets in those Mafiya men himself, he was still worried for Reese’s sake. He would always worry for her sake.
It was a little quiet for a moment, the easy quiet between friends. But Santiago could feel pressure mounting in the back of his mind, as it sometimes did. He looked at Reese. She would be twenty-six this year. And no matter how old she got, how much more grown up, what things she saw or did, there was an air of total innocence around her. If he’d been Tarasova last night, and Reese had been the Hepworth girl, Santiago would have given the Mafiya anything to leave Reese alone. He blinked hard. It was a very real possibility. He was just lucky Carmen was the only one who’d stumbled on Santiago and Reese’s friendship.
Luck never liked Santiago enough to hold out for long.
“Have you ever taken a self-defense class?” Santiago asked abruptly, meeting Reese’s big, blue eyes seriously.
Casual was never quite Santiago’s style.
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 2, 2013 1:33:34 GMT -6
Reese Cordova
Reese wasn't exactly a morning person. She wasn't the kind that got grouchy though. She just had a hard time actually being awake and coherent before 10 am at the earliest. It was only about 8:20 when she woke to find Santiago at her front door. While she was excited to see him and show him her apartment, it was quite early (at least by her standards) and she was struggling to keep from yawning every two second. She moved to her kitchen and milled around, getting a pot of coffee ready for the both of them as she asked what had brought him over this early in the morning.
“Just checking on you,” he said in a slightly vague way. Still it made her smile. The way he looked after her, checked on her, reminded her of her brother James. In a sense, Santiago was as much her family as James was. She loved him, would do anything for him and she truly believed he'd do the same for her. “I see you’re all settled in.” he finished a moment later.
She smiled and nodded excitedly. "I have! Finally got all of my boxes unpacked and everything put away. It took most of the week but I'm officially moved in," she said quite proudly. She glanced around with a satisfied expression. The apartment felt even more like home now iwth the scent of brewing coffee filling the place.
“Have you ever taken a self-defense class?” Santiago suddenly asked.
She stopped her survey of the room, meeting his gaze as her brow furrowed and she blinked in confusion again. Her sleep addled mind took a moment to fully catch up to the abrupt change in subject. Self defense classes? What was going on?
She slowly shook her head. "Ummm...I don't think I have. Not unless you count the one class of Karate I attended when my mom got my dance class mixed up with it when I was 7," she said with a shrug and a light laugh. "Coffee?" she asked, pouring the now finished coffee into two brightly painted mugs. She glanced back at him as she did. "Why are you asking though?"
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Post by The Exodus on Mar 4, 2013 14:54:13 GMT -6
Santiago Ortiz
Santiago followed Reese through the apartment the way Lola followed him; eagerly and quietly waiting for attention. He watched her prepare coffee, listened as she spoke about the move-in process. And when Reese finally paused for breath, he asked if she’d ever taken a self-defense class. Reese looked over at Santiago. Confusion tugged at her brow.
"Ummm...I don't think I have. Not unless you count the one class of Karate I attended when my mom got my dance class mixed up with it when I was 7," she said. And in her typical, Reese way, she laughed lightly, as though this were all fun and games. Santiago’s lips twitched downward.
"Coffee?" Reese asked. Before Santiago could nod or say anything, she filled two bright mugs to the brim with coffee. When she looked back at him, Santiago knew Reese hadn’t forgotten his question. "Why are you asking though?"
“Read this,” he said, trading of the coffee cups for the newspaper he’d brought inside.
There were dozens of stories about girls and women beaten, kidnapped, raped, killed… And nestled in the obituaries, somewhere would be Linnea Hepworth’s death. No details, of course; Santiago had given Georgette express instructions not to let it leak that Tarasova’s girl had been murdered. He didn’t want to be connected to the scene of the crime. And he didn’t want to tell Reese exactly why he was worried for her safety. Surely she had to know why in general. Santiago could still remember a night two years ago when she lay half-dead on his kitchen table.
“I don’t want you to become some newspaper headline,” Santiago told her grimly. “I worry about you.”
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 4, 2013 16:02:53 GMT -6
Reese Cordova
Reese had lived a fairly sheltered sort of life. She'd grown up in a a good neighborhood filled with kind, elderly folks and protected by a mother and two older siblings. She'd gone to college at a performing arts school comprised mainly of students who were coming into their trust fund. From there she had moved to the opera house where drama ran on a high but nothing horribly dangerous happened. The only time she could remember something bad happening to her was when some crazy stalker had mistook her for Rachel and attacked her. Santiago had been the one to help her out then, even back when she hardly knew him.
His question of if she knew self defense was one that caught her off guard and didn't quite make sense. What could really hurt her right now in this bright and cozy apartment? What did she have need to protect herself from? She asked Santiago why he was asking as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Read this,” was all he said as he handed the morning newspaper which she took a bit hesitantly.
She glanced down at it, reading the headlines. The front story was about police finding the body of a girl who had been missing for a month. Below that was a story on the rising sexual assault rate among women in their 20's. Even the obituaries had one of a girl her own age named Linnea who had been shot and killed in what police were ruling as a mugging gone wrong.
“I don’t want you to become some newspaper headline,” he said in a grim voice. “I worry about you.”
She glanced up at him with wide blue eyes. She nodded slowly in understanding though she was curious as to what had sparked the sudden worrying about her. She knew he cared about her and wanted her to be safe but he'd never been this open about it. She was afraid to pry though. She had always sort of suspected that Santiago was involved iwth something dangerous and apparently something had happened there to make him worry about her. She perched herself up on the counter and took a slow sip of her coffee, now full of hazelnut creamer and sugar.
"Santiago, I know you worry about me...I worry about you too, you know.," she murmured, glancing down into her coffee. A moment later she looked up at him again. "Are you wanting to teach me self defense yourself?"
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Post by The Exodus on Mar 4, 2013 18:13:55 GMT -6
Santiago Ortiz
While seated on the kitchen counter, Reese was almost eye level with Santiago. She met his gaze over her coffee cup for a lingering, solemn moment before looking down at her drink.
"Santiago, I know you worry about me...I worry about you too, you know," she said softly. Santiago’s heart muscles flexed feebly. Reese was the only one who made them exercise at all these days. He tilted his head. Then Reese looked up at him. "Are you wanting to teach me self-defense yourself?"
Santiago hadn’t thought of that. He ran his tongue along the puckered scar inside his mouth. Time was the only issue and even then, Santiago could always find ways to contort his schedule in a way that was favorable for Reese. He had never thought of himself as the teaching sort. He lacked patience; he seldom explained himself to anyone. But when he’d been a kid, his uncle had taught him self-defense. Boxing, specifically, and it had saved his life more than a few times. Lorenzo had taught him how to use the gun; Morales, a knife. Everyone had to start somewhere.
But the suggestion stirred something in Santiago. The last person he’d taught self-defense had been Rachel. That had been the last time he’d been this scared. A flutter of something found its way into Santiago’s veins. He took a deep breath. Someone had to teach Reese. And it was best – always best – to learn from someone you could trust.
“I could,” he murmured. “Or I could try. Would you like that?”
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 4, 2013 18:45:45 GMT -6
Reese Cordova
Violence was never much in Reese's vocabulary. She'd never even roughhoused with her siblings as they had both been much older and knew better. She'd never wielded a gun. The closest she'd come to it was playing a soldier in a production of The Nutcracker. She even avoided most movies rated R for violence! Still she supposed that this wasn't so much violence as it was about her being able to defend herself should the need ever arise. She certainly didn't have much experience in the field and asked quietly if Santiago was going to be the one to teach her.
She watched him for a moment. He seemed to think it over for a while. It wasn't too hard to guess what was going through his head. She knew his temper might make things a little difficult. Still, she trusted that he was going to be as patient with her as he needed to be and he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She trusted him. It seemed he came to the same conclusion a short while later as he let out a long breath. “I could,” agreed quietly. “Or I could try. Would you like that?”
She smiled up at him, setting her coffee cup to the side and leaping down from the counter. "Of course I'd like that!" she told him. "I'd much rather learn from you than from some crazy ex cop shouting at me all the time." She wondered what exactly Santiago was going to show her. Her small stature would definitely make it hard for any of the usual moves to be effective. He'd have a lot of work a head of him, that much was certain and she only hoped she didn't frustrate him too much. "So when should we start," she asked as she leaned against the counter now.
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Post by The Exodus on Mar 4, 2013 19:43:21 GMT -6
Santiago Ortiz
Reese set down her coffee cup and hopped off the counter.
"Of course I'd like that!" she told him. "I'd much rather learn from you than from some crazy ex cop shouting at me all the time."
A wry little smile touched Santiago’s lips. Reese’s tune would change, no doubt, after a few weeks under Santiago’s tutelage. She’d known him during his stage managing days; she knew how strict, how demanding he could be. Maybe she would survive his crash course in self-defense and pass with flying colors.
"So when should we start?" Reese asked.
“Saturday.” Santiago said. “In the morning… early afternoon. I know you have a show that night. Before call, I can take you to the shooting range. Don’t think fist-fighting will do you much good.”
Reese was small and feisty, but small and feisty didn’t do nearly as much in a back alleyway as a trusty Smith & Wesson.
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 5, 2013 14:34:10 GMT -6
Reese Cordova
She was curious what Santiago would teach her. She must have watched one too many police dramas or something because she was imagining somehow flipping the bad guy over her shoulder or knocking him down with a a well placed punch to the jaw. She knew it was highly unrealistic given her small size, but the though of something like had made her suddenly quite excited about the training session. She asked Santiago when they were going to start, eager to begin this training he was going to give her.
“Saturday.” he told her. “In the morning… early afternoon. I know you have a show that night. Before call, I can take you to the shooting range. Don’t think fist-fighting will do you much good.”
Suddenly Reese froze and her eyes grew huge. A gun?! He was going to teach her to shoot a gun?! Panic rose in her at the thought of a gun in her hand. They were so...dangerous. Then again, she supposed that was sort of the point. Still that didn't make her feel much better. She turned to him with a slightly pale face.
"A gun? Is that really a good idea?" she asked quietly, fidgeting nervously. "I mean, can't you just show me how to make my car keys into a weapon or something?"
She didn't doubt that he knew how to do that.
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Post by The Exodus on Mar 5, 2013 18:36:08 GMT -6
Santiago Ortiz
Reese’s blue eyes widened until they looked fit to pop out. Santiago frowned. He wanted her to be safe; he felt safer with his gun on his hip than he did without it. He could scrap his way through a fistfight, but like the old saying went: Never bring a knife to a gunfight. Santiago never wanted to run the risk of being unarmed if he could avoid it. Didn’t Reese understand? She needed any advantage Santiago could give her.
"A gun? Is that really a good idea?" she asked quietly, fidgeting nervously. "I mean, can't you just show me how to make my car keys into a weapon or something?"
“You don’t know how to do that?” Santiago asked, his own eyes widening. This was words than he thought. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled his own keys out. Then with precision, he fitted them between his fingers, balled his hand into a fist and extended it to show Reese his handiwork. “If someone’s attacking you, and you can draw blood with a punch, your attacker can be tracked down easier. Don’t go for the face. Too easy to duck.”
He offered the keys to Reese.
“You try. Put ‘em between your fingers – your index and middle, middle and ring, ring and pinky. Go ahead.”
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 5, 2013 21:32:13 GMT -6
Reese Cordova
“You don’t know how to do that?” Santiago asked when she suggested he teach her how to use her keys as a weapon. She blinked a bit in surprise. She had just heard of it vaguely and she had sort of just been joking, try to stall a bit on the gun issue. But Santiago was already getting his keys out and slipping them into position through the slots in his fingers and tightening the hand into a fist to hold them in place. He reached the hand out to show her what it looked like.
“If someone’s attacking you, and you can draw blood with a punch, your attacker can be tracked down easier. Don’t go for the face. Too easy to duck.” he explained to her and she nodded in understanding.
He handed her the keys now. “You try. Put ‘em between your fingers – your index and middle, middle and ring, ring and pinky. Go ahead.” he encouraged.
She glanced at the keys for a moment before working to get them in place. She wasn't quite sure how she was suppose to get them in position in the midst of someone attacking her but it was good enough for now. She could practice doing it quickly. "Like this," she asked, holding it up to let him see. She mimed like she was going to punch Santiago but couldn't quite bring herself to even pretend like she was going to hurt him. She paused a good half foot from making contact.
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Post by The Exodus on Mar 10, 2013 18:41:36 GMT -6
Santiago Ortiz
Santiago watched Reese put the keys between her fingers with a determined look. Once they were in place, she mimicked punching Santiago, but stopped short of him by at least six inches.
"Like this?" she asked.
Santiago nodded and reached out for her hand, repositioning her thumb so that it wasn’t tucked into her fist.
“You don’t want to break your thumb when you punch,” he said. “For this move to really work, you’ve got to be in the habit of wearing your keys like brass knuckles. With any weapon – a gun or keys or whatever – habit counts a lot.”
Drawing his Smith and Wesson was second nature to Santiago nowadays. He didn’t do it immediately – there was still enough fight-or-flight instinct in him for Santiago to know when to run – but when a fight got bad enough, he didn’t have to waste time, trying to remember where his gun was, if it was loaded, if it was ready to fire. When something was second nature, you didn’t fumble; you gained time. And even a hair of a second could be the difference between life and death.
“Show me again.”
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Post by blueeyeddevil on Mar 12, 2013 12:16:49 GMT -6
Reese Cordova
She worked on trying to get the keys in place, trying to remember how Santiago had done it. They felt hard and jagged between her fingers and she frowned a bit. She asked quietly if she was doing this right, punching the air a little ways from him.
Santiago nodded but took her hand, untucking her thumb from her fist. “You don’t want to break your thumb when you punch,” he explained. “For this move to really work, you’ve got to be in the habit of wearing your keys like brass knuckles. With any weapon – a gun or keys or whatever – habit counts a lot.”
She had a sudden image of herself walking along with her keys worn like weapon, her hand hidden in her bag among her ballet things. It would certainly take any attacker by surprise to have her suddenly pull out key-clawed hand and attack back.
“Show me again.” Santiago's voice pulled her back to the situation at hand.
She tried again, still not able to bring herself to get closer than a few inches from him. Santiago wasn't the one she was looking to hurt. Really she wasn't looking to hurt anyone. It just wasn't her. Santiago had to know that and yet something had him worried enough that he felt the need to come over and make sure she knew how to defend herself. She tried a couple more punches before she finally spoke what she had been wondering about since he'd shown her the newspaper.
"So, can I ask what has you suddenly so worried about me?" she asked softly. "I mean, news articles like the ones you showed me happen every day. It's never bothered you this much before. What happened?"
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