The Assasian, the Target (Myself, Gorgoniy)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Danigirl, Jan 3, 2015.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. [​IMG]
    Name: Jessica Marie Tucker
    Age: 24
    Occupation: Waitress/Author
  2. [​IMG]

    Name: Frederique Somalier
    Age: 36
    Occupation: hitman
  3. Frederique, Freddy, looked at the content of the envelop. It was spread out over his coffee table. The coffee table was made from a tree stump from the cork tree. Freddy had superglued a piece of glass on top of it. It wasn't pretty, but it served it's purpose. 'Just like me', the hitman thought, as he leafed through the details about his next mark. He'd gotten the envelop this morning, together with his daily bottle of buttermilk. 'Pretty', Fred mused, 'as he looked the rich selection of photos of the mark over. For a brief moment the hitman wondered what she'd done to get on the wrong side of his sponsor. He'd wondered about things like that before, but it had never made him loose sight of the prize. His carefully hidden bank accounts in several tax havens were a convincing testemony to that.

    For once his target was not a godawful distance away. This "Jessica Marie Tucker" lived right in town. She was a waitress around town. Instantly feeling hungry, Somalier put on his coat, and left his cramped appartment. As he descended the stairs, he smiled at the elderly lady from number three. "Bonjour, Mrs Dollop", pointing at the sun streaming through the stair well flooding it with light, "I'm out for lunch. Enjoy your afternoon". She wheezed out an appropriate response, which he mainly ignored (as usual).

    Stepping out into the sun, he mused: 'Where is this joint, anyway'? Shrugging he turned south. Not because he'd decided it was the right direction, but because he wanted to feel the warmth of the sun in his face. His fine italian shoes would bring him to Miss Tucker's day job soon enough.
  4. Jessica was just leaving her apartment ready to start her day at the small cafe, as she walked do the bus stop she hummed a little tune that had been stuck in her head since she was a young girl. Her uniform was a pink dress with a white apron, a name tag. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, tassels framed her face as she sat down she crossed her legs at the ankle then leaned back against the bench. She'd been working at the dinner for a few years now, had started just before she finished high school. For awhile she was going to school but she had stopped because she couldn't afford the tuition, now she was waiting on a bus so she could get to work only because she didn't feel like walking the four blocks from her apartment.
  5. The croissant was great. As Fred took another bite, crisp flakes snowed down his dark blue, woolen sweater. Chewing on the rich, buttery flavour, he thought: 'Good croissant. Those things, if properly made, should crumple down my chest and make a mess of me'. And it did! Satisfied Frederique sat - together with a tall, black coffee - on the bench at the bus stop. It was conveniently placed opposite the diner, which his briefing said was miss Tucker's place of business. He hadn't spotted her yet. With the day pretty much underway, he'd expected her to be in already. Then again the envelop hadn't held her schedule. That, after all, was Freddy's job.

    Patience was one of his virtues, so he sat, ate his roll and waited. As he sat there, a small, african american lady joined him. Fred guestimated her to be around 60 years, and he thought she looked a hell of lot like Whoopi Goldberg. The idea made him grin. It reminded him of the movie 'Ghost'. She'd played a medium in it. Frederique hated mediums. 'They mess with people's heads', he grumbled inside. Then 'Whoopi' decided to light a cigarette. As the blue clouds swirled his way, the hitman started to cough. The woman had stolen his moment of happiness. With a dark look at her, which she pointedly ignored, the Frenchman rose. Towering over the small smoker, he went over to a nearby shop window. In the reflection he kept an eye on the diner and on the smoking 'Whoopi'.

    The shop sold lamps. Some exhuberant, some plain. Freddy sure wasn't an interior decorator, so it took a huge effort to keep his feigned attention on them.
  6. Jessica stepped onto the bus took a seat by the window, held her purse in her lap. She leaned her head against the window, closed her eyes for a few seconds then opened them again. Her stop would be coming up pretty soon, she was a little nervous because her boss had informed her tyat he needed to see her in his office. Her stomach was in knots, her heart was racing because she basically thought she was going to get fired. She couldn't afford to lose her job because she had rent every month, basic bills such as utilities etc.
  7. The bus stop served a couple of lines. Everytime the bulk of a bus robbed him of his view of the diner, Fred hoped his target wouldn't slip inside unseen. The sun had grown in strength, and he felt her burn in the nape of his neck. As yet another bus blocked his view, Frederique decided to look for another position. Especially, as the sight of the lamps started to bore him.

    With a low groan the bus came to a stop at the bench. Freddy strolled back to his earlier vantage point. Then the double doors of the bus sighed open. A couple of people descended from them. Suddenly the hitman stood eye to eye with his mark. 'Bingo', he thought as his deep brown eyes met hers. Quickly he dropped his paper coffee mug - now empty. Playing the clumsy Frenchman, he bend down to pick it up. As he did, he murmured: "Pardonnez moi".
  8. Jessica wasn't paying any attention she was headed into the diner as her heart raced, she chewed on her lower lip. She opened the door walked in with confidence, walked back to her bosses office. Opening his door after being told to come in she closed the door then looked at him. " You wanted to see me? " The brunette asked as she gulped, looked straight at her boss hoping beyond hope he didn't fire her. The diner may have been small but there was enough room for a small office off to the side next to the men's restroom.
  9. The young woman didn't take much notice of him. Which suited him best. As she hurried over to the diner, Freddy couldn't help himself. His dark eyes followed the curve of her back...and lower back. He grunted appreciative. 'Cute', he mused. Well, at least he now knew Jessica Marie had arrived. After a time of waiting, a time of waiting even longer would start. Fred concluded that she'd come in for work, and would make her hours, before returning home. To get a firm grasp on her schedule, he'd have to wait it out.

    Quite certain that Jessica would start her shift, Frederique flirted with the juice bar only a block away. He'd been there before and the mango-banana-apple-mint-juice was awesome there. He could almost taste it, as he salivated over the prospect. Throwing the paper cup, with flawless aim into the garbage container next to the bus stop-bench, the tall Frenchman strolled towards the juice bar.
  10. Jessica listened to her boss tell her that he was promoting her to assistant manager, she couldn't contain her excitement. She was so happy because her hours would be better, she would be making more money. Walking out of his office she grinned from ear to ear clocked in, started her shift with a smile on her face. She took care of some of the regulars, took orders from her first table all with a smile on her face. Of course she had no idea she was being followed, she didn't know she was being watched either. Her day could only get better she thought, she was in such a good mood nothing could bring her down.
  11. Admittingly, the juice bar was a bit too far to keep a good eye on the diner, but Freddy considered it a calculated risk. It was most likely that Jessica's shift had just started, so he would probably had to wait until closing hours. In his experience that could be in about 8 tot 10 hours. 'Diners don't exactly stick to business hours, after all', Fred mused into his smoothie.

    Time passed with the speed of a snail, as Frederique waited for his mark to finish work. The hitman didn't hate waiting. He liked to observe people, especially people who were caught in the daily sludge of work. Not many people would like to trade with him, he was sure, but the freedom it offered was great.

    As he sat on a bench in front of a ice cream shop - it was a miracle Fred didn't weigh a ton by now - he went over the information which his sponsor had sent him. This job had to look like an accident, or at least natural causes. Anything smelling of foul play, of murder, or even of suicide would mean Frederique missed out on his paycheck. In his experience that kind of assignment meant his sponsor (or the one who'd hired her) wanted to get rid of a witness. Perhaps this Jessica Marie had seen something she shouldn't have. Freddy hated this kind of assignment most of all. It meant he had to end an innocent's life. Somehow the Frenchman preferred to murder someone who was a proven thug. Then again, he got a pretty nice paycheck, so he shouldn't complain.

    Slowly, but surely dusk approached. It could only mean one thing: Jessica's shift would end sometime soon. As the street lanterns pinged on, Freddy noticed the neighborhood change. During the daytime it was a bustling, almost hip neighborhood, but when the sun went to sleep a darker kind of inhabitants showed themselves. He'd been appraised a couple of times already. Fred didn't mind. He knew how to discourage any opportunists wanting to cash in on him. With the sunlight vanishing behind the tall buildings, Freddy's demeanour changed. Only half an hour ago his posture and expression invited interaction, now it clearly did not. He knew it would be a matter of tiime, before local thugs would make a pass at him. They would try to get him out of their neighborhood - preferably shaken down. "Jessica Marie", he murmured, "now would be a great time for you to head home".
  12. Jessica walked out of the dinner as soon as her shift ended, she had been told to lock up. She locked the doors, walked the few feet to the bus stop. Waiting for the bus that would take her home she took her hair out of it's hair tie, wrapped it around her wrist. She opened her purse, started counting her tips with a smile. For your first time she had made clos to two hundred dollars in tips, she had been promoted so her lay check soul be more each month. Placing a strand of hair behind her ear she stood up pocketing the money as her bus came to a stop, tick her usual seat.
  13. It still came as a surprise when his mark exited the diner, and walked over to the bus stop. Frederique's vantage point was quite far from the bus stop. Of course he knew where Jessica lived, but he wanted to discover whether she made some customary stops before she reached her home. It was not uncommon for people to get a take-away, or groceries before they arrived at their house.

    Clearly she knew the time table of her bus from heart, because it arrived about a minute after she came outside. She'd already taken a seat in the bus. Pulling a quick sprint, Freddy reached it, just before the mechanical doors closed. Without a word, he slammed a couple of bucks down before the driver. It would be enough to get him to the end point, although he doubted that would be their final stop. Jessica had taken a seat further back in the bus. Usually Fred would sit on the last row, but that would be too close to her. Especially when she decided to get off the bus, him following suit would be easy to spot. So, he just stood right before the middle doors. From that position he could keep an eye on Jessica and react quickly when she got off.

    For now he ignored her completely. Freddy fished a headphone from the left pocket of his dark, duffel coat. Putting it on his head, he listened to Stromae in his ears.
  14. Jessica sat on the bus quietly her hair falling wildly around her shoulders as she fiddled with the hem of her dress, stared down the aisle way. She was tired to the point of wanting to curl up on the seat, falling asleep. Knowing she would miss her stop she sighed running her fingers through her hair, when the bus jerked to a stop she stood up. Exiting the bus she walked toward her apartment fumbled with her key, finally unlocked he door. With a sigh she walked inside closing the door behind her she dropped her things, headed to her bedroom to change.

    After she changed out of her uniform, was in sweats she walked into the living room. Curling up on her sofa she turned on the television, flipped through the Channels until she found something half way decent. Once she found something to watch she put a pillo behind her head, let the television put her to sleep.
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.