Jezebel - Long Dreams Of Dreamers[Toggle Names]
Description: Jezebel loves Naerose. Loves her as a friend. And Jezebel would do anything to make her fishie friend happy. That means fireworks, and cakes, and candies. So she goes to a bar. Not to drink, but to make her friend happy. And there, she meets a man, a beautiful man named Abel, and she loves him too. But he wants Shadaloo. And Jezebel is Shadaloo. And she... will do anything, for people she loves. But you should never love Jezebel. You could never love.
Everything had to be perfect for Naerose.
Jezebel had a hard time in Bangkok. Of course she did. Why wouldn't she? She wasn't a bad girl, she wasn't. All she was supposed to do is watch a warehouse for shipping grey market items, and a few black marketing. But instead, she found her fishie friend. And she wanted to do anything she could to keep her fishie friend. To make her loyal, and loving, and with her forever. All the way, she wanted to give Naerose every decadence she could give her; she fed her food, so much food, and then took her to a special hourly hotel to wash her. Both were destroyed, all by accident. But there had to be more, there always had to be more. And she could find it here at a bar.
Except Jezebel didn't drink.
She wouldn't drink.
And neither would Naerose.
"Look, I know you guys have fireworks." Jezebel states, leaning against the bar. The actress was dressed in a black mesh top with leather pants. She didn't know why. But she felt so... evil. So wicked. She wasn't a bad girl. But she wanted to be it. The Bangkok bar was half crowded with the daytime lounge lizards. Some were even passing eyes at the Canadian-American. But Jezebel was focused on the surly bartender who wasn't even looking at her. Just focusing on cleaning his glass. "I don't know what you're talking about ma'am." He says slowly in a thick accent. And Jezebel, well, she just doesn't like no. She hates no. She never wants no.
She slams a palm on the countertop, right by an empty glass. "Listen here, sir, I represent a very, a very serious organization, and if you don't help me willingly, then I might, well, I might have to start checking over your insurance coverage." Her eyes cast to the cup, and to the floor, and then to the cup. And Jezebel pushes a glass to the floor. It bounces, as it is plastic. "Oh, uh, you have plastic cups." Jezebel lifts up her booted foot, and stomps on it, shattering it.
"That uh, that's not covered by your insurance."
Amongst the longue lizards, they mutter as they watch. "So what's this white girl up to? Is she just doing some kind of routine?" The other man shakes his head. "Nah, I might walk up there and tell him to cooperate. She's dangerous." The first looks at him. "Are you kidding? That thing might be dangerous to herself. Doesn't she know he fought Muay Thai under Adon for five years." He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. I know that woman. She's Shadaloo, man; messing with that is enough to get you killed in this city."
Jezebel shakes her head, tapping her fingers on the countertop.
The wold is a large place. Since starting his journey to uncover parts of his past Abel has really started to realize just how large. And travel isn't exactly cheap either, but it was only a matter of weeks Abel learned the tricks to being a wanderer. Sometimes people are nice enough to take you a few miles on the back of a truck. Some trains can be stowed away upon and bigger boats allow for someone to hide out undetected. Of course there is times where money is a must and sometimes Abel has had to participate in rather seedy fighting circuits and use his talents in combat to earn the cash he will need. And through all these travels he has still yet to really discover anything to help him jog his memory. Just a few names and idle rumors and not much else.
That is why he is here in Bangkok. Some rumors of shady activity and the possiblity of Shadaloo presence. Of course finding the latter isn't exactly easy. He isn't even sure how to tell what people may work for Shadaloo or not. Worst case he can hope being nosey and asking the right questions might put him on the organizations radar. It isn't exactly the safest way of going about things, but really does Abel have anything to lose at this point? So far his inquiries haven't brought forth any useful information and right now he just knows he needs a moment to get food or even just a drink so he could ponder what his next move should be. Cash is running low again so he might have to look at what ways he can replenish his funds sooner than later.
The door to the bar swings open and Abel steps in. His clothes a bit dusty from traveling and a tote bag slung over one shoulder. This eyes lightly scan the place only to pause where he sees a woman making a bit of commotion. Much like him she is obviously not from these parts and he isn't exactly sure what is going on aside from the murder of a helpless plastic cup. He silently approaches and makes it a point to sit down at the bar next to where Jezebel is and drops his bag. "Whatever is cheap." he tells the bartender and he glances towards Jezebel. "Is there a problem, miss?"
The world was so small.
Jezebel was exasperated. Didn't he know who she was? Didn't anyone? Maybe nobody did. Maybe that was a good thing. Someone enters, and Jezebel turns. And there, she transfixes a mechanical eye on Abel. A familiar design, a familiar person. And yet, so wrong, so distant, so... unforgettable. The freckled face cracks a smile, and then a mouth of outrage. "Yes! This jerk is, well, this jerk is giving me hel- heck! I'm trying to put on the greatest show for my friend, and he isn't letting me!" She slips a hand into her mesh shirt, and draws out a small... symbol. She turns back to the bartender, and slaps it on the counter. "Just take a look at this, and maybe you'll remember about who you work for, okay?" She draws her hand away.
It was a Shadaloo insignia.
The bartender sticks his tongue in his cheek as he takes the insignia. He inspects it, and then back to the smiling Jezebel, and then back to it. The gears were turning. Jezebel was eagerly waiting for the part where he was going to cooperate. And then, the man slams down the insignia.
"You're not Shadaloo." He states flatly. "You're just some crazy bitch with a half-assed con and a lucky piece of metal. You're not Shadaloo, and I know who I am going to talk to." Jezebel trembles, her pupil in one eye shrinking, her mechanical eye dimming. "I... I..." She stammers, as she tightens her hands into a fist. The bartender steps down to the edge of the bar, where there was a phone. "You know what they do to people who act like they are part of it? They get dead. They get dead real fast. You just got your ticket to the afterlife crazy-"
And there is a cracking sound.
The room freezes. Jezebel's foot ran through the counter, smashed through to the floor with a staggering heel drop. Her chest was heaving, her eyes were trembling. The bartender was stumbled from behind the bar, sitting on the floor, stunned. The moment in time breaks as one of the customer scrambles up to the bartender, holding him. "Aawut, she's... she's Tae Kwon Do." And the bartender... suddenly begins to shake himself, as he breaks into a hot sweat. "Oh no. Oh no, oh NO, it's HER!" He falls to his knees, bowing down. "forgive me, Forgive me!" Jezebel lifts her leg off the counter with a smooth pivot, splinters falling out of the leather-clad limb. She smiles wildly. "Of course I'll forgive you." She continues, turning towards the stranger at the door, giving him a thumbs up.
"Once you get me those fireworks, pardner!"
What an odd woman and one he was not familiar with. Of course even if he had ever seen any of Jezebel's work it was before his memory loss. Right now she just seems to be a rather strange lady causing a problem in a bar. He is about to say something when that insignia is slammed onto the bartop. He isn't too sure what it is. There is something that tries to spark memories, but it only takes him one word to have his full attention.
Did Abel stumble into somet good luck and actually find someone that works for Shadaloo? he is skeptic just because she seems so brazen to show things off and claim it. Weren't they a more secretive sort? Just everything about her makes it hard to believe that she could be a part of the group. That is until that kick demolishes the bar proper. Customers and bartender may be scrambling and getting worked into a panic, but Abel just seems to have his gaze fixated on Jezebel.
Then he calmly steps forward. He is a bit unsure still, but even if this woman isn't Shadaloo she is more than an average fighter. He puts a hand on her shoulder. The grip is firm, but not to the point where he is trying to hurt her. At least not yet. "Miss. Are you really one of them? If so we need to talk." He reminds himself to remain calm for now. Violence can come later if need be.
She feels the firm grip on her shoulder.
The body language spoke volumes. The smile twists and strains, but it endures. Don't touch me. Don't touch me. "Talk about... them?" She asks, cocking her head. Her bionic eye burns bright blue, as the barkeep and the patrons scramble. Her shoulder begins to tighten, as the full strength of the woman builds. Tension was rising in the room, as she stares into the stranger. And suddenly, with a twist and a wind, she walks out of the vicegrip, heading to a table across with a bright voice.
The answer was overwhelming sincere. It was simple, so simple, too simple. "Lets have a seat, I'm sure, I'm sure he'll get right on all those fireworks!" THe bartender in fact was running to the backroom, to make good on the threat. Jezebel looks back at Abel, giving him a wink. "Just remember, we're kind of a secret society, so I can't let you know about everything, but I'll try my best to answer your questions! Let me introduce myself. I'm Nightmare Spangles! I'm a villain, so you better watch out, or you'll be in all kinds of trouble!" It was rehearsed, it was artificial. She spins a chair around, and straddles it, leaning her arms on the backrest of the chair as she motions to another chair, a smile burning on her lips.
"What's your name, partner?"
He can feel her shoulder grow tense and he is almost half expecting her to make a grab and throw him into a wall, but instead she moves to just slip free and truth be told the moment she starts to make a move to just break free he lets go so she can move and settle down on that table. There is a slight raise to his brow, but he does have a good poker face and if anything he just has the look of a weary traveler. "Yet not secret enough given you seem more than fine with casually throwing the name about."
The fact it does seem too simple is why Abel is sure to keep an eye out for anyone that might be trying to sneak up on him while his focus remains on Jezebel mostly. Months of traveling and questioning with little luck and vague responses to well....this. Right now he looks at it as good fortune or just some crazy woman that is strong enough to make people think she belongs to Shadaloo.
"Abel." he finally says and moves to have a seat as well. The duffle he was carrying lands with a thud next to his seat and he casually rests an arm on the table to lean on it ever so slightly. "I am no hero. I am just a man in seek of answers. Ones you probably can't give." This is under the assumption of course that she is of a low rank. "Do you know anything about Shadaloo's...special projects. Ones involving human subjects."
Jezebel thinks back to the warehouse where she found Naerose. Her fishie friend. The bizzare state she was in, the mummified form. The mask. The other women, the girls in other crates, bound and gagged and left in their filth. Human trafficking. Her expression warps again, but she just instinctively shakes her head. That wasn't real. That was just a coicidence. "No, no, I don't know anything about that, Abel. I mean, I guess if I didn't, I couldn't tell you. I shouldn't tell you. But I mean, it can't be anything wrong." She bounces once on her chair, growing suddenly excited.
"Well, I mean, Shadaloo was so wonderful."
"You have to understand, they saved my life, Abel. See, I used to be, well, I used to be an actress and a professional fighter. You might have known me as Lightning Spangles, or, or as Jezebel. I mean, you can see it plain on my face. I'm Jezebel. And well, I started hating myself. I mean, I never really stopped hating myself. I started a long time ago, but I never really, well, stopped. I used to be Lightning Spangles, and I was an actress, and everyone loved me, especially children. I inspired so many children." She looks away, and shrugs, shaking her head.
"And you know, I started making mistakes."
She turns back to Abel, the smile faded. "You know, I killed a child, Abel. It was an accident, but you know, accidents just softens it. It was a mistake, I made a horrible mistake. I was drinking, I was driving, and I didn't see him until I swerved and... I made a mistake. I lost myself, I lost Lightning Spangles, they threw me away like garbage. And I was garbage, absolute garbage and trash and worthless and I just kept drinking and drinking and making movies until I was completely and totally violated. But I crawled out of the dark hole, and I got a second chance. Because people didn't love me. But they loved who I could be. I could be Lightning Spangles. And I did. And I was loved, because of what I could be. Until..." And she makes a dramatic sweep of one of her hands, nearly knocking herself off the chair.
"Jezebel screws up again!"
Tears begin to build in her eyes. "I started drinking again, and you know, when I start drinking, that's when everything goes wrong. I got a championship belt, and then I lost it, to Cracker Jack, he's a friend now. Because I was drinking. I hurt my friends, I hurt my fans, and then, then I hurt myself. I tried to hurt myself. I killed another kid, at a Trump rally. It was an accident, but I could have stopped it. And they took Lightning Spangles away, and gave it to a perfect, pure, innocent girl. And she deserves it. I didn't. And I needed to hurt myself. I needed to punish myself. I tried so hard to kill myself, Abel, I tried. I tried so hard, but you know." Her cheeks were bright red, stained with tears as she gives another arm sweep, this time falling from the chair.
"Jezebel... screws up... again.
Jezebel leans on the ground, grabbing the chair to right it back up. And steadily, she pulls herself up. "I failed. I was such a complete screwup, I couldn't even take my own life. Isn't that funny? I can't even kill myself right. And they sent me to a... hospital? A rehab center? I don't know. I was left there to die, or be killed, or just fade away. I was ready to go away forever. They took away my Lightning Spangles forever. And I couldn't be real anymore. Just a face without a mask, an actress without a role." And the cloud around her fades, as a bright sunlight overtakes her. She was smiling again, as revelation overcomes her.
"That's when they found me, Abel.
She sits back in the chair, reaching out for Abel's hands to hold them, to clasp them. "And they found me, and they rescued me, and now... now I'm part of a family. A real famliy, who cares about me. And they don't care who I am, and what I am, and what I do. They stopped me drinking, and they really helped me love me for who I am Abel. I am Jezebel, or Nightmare Spangles when I need to pretend that people don't know me. And I'm helping a friend of mine right now, Abel. And that's... that's me!" And Jezebel looks at Abel, one eye too bright, the other dimming its blue light, with a searing smile stretching the corner of her lips. "Thanks for wanting to talk with me, Abel, like... like thank you. It's so nice to have someone listen to me, you know." She squirms a bit in her chair.
"So, how old are you, Abel?"
This....this is not what was expected. To be fair he didn't fully know what to expect, but a life story that looks like one giant downward spiral was probably near the very bottom of the list. Even so he seems very good at staying composted and just calmly watches Jezebel go through a gambit of emotions. Most of all he is actually listening.
"Life is never easy, is it?" he asks and he pauses some. He has no response for his age. He has a guess, but as far as how old he actually is it is one of many things he may never remember. In this case he just finds it best to make something up. "I'm twenty-nine."
In a way he wants to hate this woman. He wants to find it easy to beat answers out of her, but after listening he instead finds himself pitying her. She had her normal life torn away, but in a completely different manner than Abel had. "You seem like a good person. A good person should not be in Shadaloo." He doesn't seem like one that talks a lot and he seems to want to choose his words carefully. "Your friend. Who are they? Are they part of Shadaloo?" Or perhaps someone like him that was experimented on?
It was a black hole of despair.
And she was dragging Abel into it, closer and closer to the bleak heart of it. Smiling the entire time. "I'm, I'm twenty five!" She responds, lying about her age as she plays with her hair, averting her eyes for a moment. She was actually older than him. "Wow, you look great for your age! Yeah, yeah, life is never easy. But death is harder. But you know, C'est La Vie~" For a brief moment, she drops into a thick quebecois accent. She returns her eyes back to Abel, smirking.
A hungry looking smirk.
"She's my, she's my fishie friend! She isn't Shadaloo..." She trails off, her original drawl coming back. Suddenly, she narrows her eyes. She wasn't. "... She could be though. I wish she could be. She could be with me forever." There was a far away looking overtaking her eyes. "I mean, so could you. We're all one big happy family. I mean, good people can be in Shadaloo. If I'm a good person, that has to be true! She was trembling a bit now, as her smile was growing wider, as she was squirming more and more. "I like you, Abel, and you like me!" She blushes a bit, as she coyly looks away again.
"Are you married, Abel, or like, seeing anyone?"
She looks about ready to have a nervous breakdown. She does her best to mask emotions at times, but it is all too easy to see that she has been driven a bit mad. "I am not." The wearly look still remains, but Abel finds himself more unsure how to proceed. He has feelings he isn't going to get any information from her, but maybe if he asks the right question he can find someone that does. "What about Cracker Jack? that was his name, wasn't it? Another friend of yours. Is he Shadaloo?"
Yes, it is an obvious change of subject, but he feels he might already might have been perhaps too nice this entire time. In a way he was hoping that man would return with fireworks soon just so he can perhaps slip out while Jezebel is distracted. Or at least make her think he left so he can track her down. there is a bit of a worry about this 'friend' of hers and if they are really happy or just tied up in a warehouse somewhere.
He was perfect.
As Abel confesses that he's single, she can't help but giggle like a school girl. She covers her mouth, to try and hide it. He was interested in her, as long as she had answers. It was a wonderful feeling, being so important to someone. She craved that feeling, she wanted it like a blanket and wrapped around her. She wanted him like a blanket, wrapped around her. And she could be a mommy to Naerose, and Pepper, and it would be perfect. She keeps giggling behind her mouth, as he asks another question. She almost leaps out of the chair, trying to answer it. "Cracker Jack, well, he's just a friend."
She trails off, squinting her eyes. No. You don't. You don't involve them in this. She shakes her head. "Oh, I've screwed this up." She mutters to herself. "Oh, I... I screwed this up badly." The woman brings her fists against the side of her head, looking almost ready to hit herself. Her face trembles, as she shuts her eyes. And then it stops. The eyes open, the light burns bright in her bionic eye. She smiles again, shifting gears instantly. "He's just a friend, Abel. A friend like you! Except, well, you can be, you can be more than just a-"
And then the bartender emerges.
The man had a crate in his arms. The crate was labeled 'Beer.' Jezebel's attention drifts away, and she cocks her head. "That's not fireworks. That's beer!" She blurts out. And the bartender... speaks very slowly, very politely. "It's... not beer." Jezebel nods her head dully. "Oooooh. I see." She squishes her own nose, and smiles, and returns her focus dead on to Abel. "That looks awfully heavy." She coos at Abel. "Maybe... maybe you can help me bring it to my friend! My fishie friend! She would love to meet you, maybe, I mean, you wouldn't take her away from me." She smiles and smiles and smiles and smiles. "You couldn't take her away from me. You're a good person, Abel, I like you so much. We can have a big, three-way friendship going on Abel." And she blushes even more, trying her best to look coy and teasing.
"Maybe we can... maybe we can talk more about Shadaloo on the way~"
It is hard to give her a full read, but he knows desperation when he sees it. He experiences almost daily in feeling he may never find out more about his past. This has slowly become more of a waste of time, but if anything he might have to ask around more about Cracker Jack since that was the only name she ever really gave him. Right now it is only about the lead he may have after dealing with this woman. He is about to say something when the bartender emerges with the crate. It wasn't the distraction he was hoping for as Jezebel is only momentarily distracted before that gaze fixates on him. "You are right about one thing." he says and slowly rises to his feet. A hand reaches for the duffel bag he carries and he slings it over a shoulder. "I am a good person." His look is sincere just as his words. "Leave Shadaloo. Be with your friend and heal your wounds."
He starts to turn away and he pauses. He takes what little money he has left and moves to place it on part of the bar that wasn't totally destroyed by Jezebel's kick. "It isn't enough to cover all the repairs, but....it is all I have." Money is something he can get later. Right now he is just tired. He knows there is Shadaloo presence here if Jezebel isn't full of hot air, but he is going to have to do some more proper investigating to find anything useful.
He then turns back to Jezebel and steps close. "I ask you to leave because I don't believe you are malicious and evil. They took something from me and I intend to get it back. I rather you not be in my way." His expression doesn't really change the entire time, but there is something of a small smile before he turns to leave. his free hand raises to give a wave. "Go and take care of your friend. I am sure she is waiting."
With that he is out the door. A meeting he may not forget and in reality he might just have to check up on the woman to see how things are and see if perhaps she does come to her senses in the end.
It dawns on Jezebel slowly. Too slowly, in fact. Jezebel didn't want it to be desperation. It was attention, and love, from a man who needed her. It didn't have to be a man. Naerose needed her too. But as he rises, as she fixes that smile on him, he says he is a good man, and that she... she needed to leave Shadaloo. He pauses as he reaches the door. He was changing his mind. He was going to be with her. But no, he leaves... bus change. Jezebel's eye twitches. Bus change. Taxi fare. It was familar to her, it was ringing in her head slamming and smashing like a boat. She doesn't hear what he says, she was deaf and numb and blind now. Consumed as the betrayal, the suffering, the pain that was being poured into her.
By a stranger, even.
And he's gone, like so many other men in her life. Just... using her for what he wanted, and then gone. No, he didn't get what he wanted. If he got what he wanted, then he wouldn't have left. This isn't his fault. This is HER fault. She screwed up. Jezebel screws up again! Jezebel screws up again! Jezebel screws up again! Jezebel just stares at the door for too long. The room doesn't know what to do with the woman who stares after him. Abel was out the door. And then he was further and further away. And then he was... gone. The bartender puts the crate on the ground, and approaches Jezebel. "Uh, look, I think you can probably carry it yourself-"
And she hits him.
The bartender is knocked to the ground, falling on to the crate as Jezebel punches him in the gut. And then she stands up, over him, and raises her foot. And she stomps on him, again and again and again and again, tears pouring down her face. The remaining barflies flee the bar, as she tears into the baretender. Black and bloodied and bruised, he finally unleashes a sob. And those tears are what make Jezebel stop. She still hurts, but she stares down. She was a good person. He thought she was a good person.
And he was wrong.
"I'm... I'm sorry..." She sobs over the bartender, trying to roll him over with her foot. "I just, I just, I mean, he... he didn't want me." She staggers away from him, reaching the doorway, and she leans hard into the door frame, staring outside. People were staring at her. And why wouldn't they? Jezebel screwed up again. And he was... where would he go? Maybe to the Fishie Friend. And Naerose would leave her too. Where was she? Jezebel looks around the street, pupils pinpricks. "He..."
"... He'll take her away from me."
The bartender tries to rise. Groaning, he grabs a chair, pulling it to the floor with a crash. Jezebel pivots, hurling her leg in the general direction of the bartender, unleashing a shimmering ball of red, white, and blue energy at him. She misses. She misses, and the orb of energy slams into the crate. There is nothing for a moment. The bartender stares. Jezebel stares with a puffy eye, stunned. "oh... I'm sorry..." She trails, as she rushes towards the door.
Abel may see, a long way back, a building exploding into a barrage of fireworks.
Log created on 14:32:11 11/14/2016 by Jezebel, and last modified on 14:47:24 11/16/2016.