This is a character 'cheat sheet' with some info on each of them (since not everyone has a proper reference)


Beverly 'Jezebel' Collins- Golden Clouded Leopard. Born in Newark, NJ. Dancer at the Spiked Tiger, headliner. Intonation: Mid-Atlantic*

Yury 'Mr. Sykes' Rostov- Achromatic Amur Tiger. Born in Serov, Russia. Owner of the Spiked Tiger. Intonation: Northern Russian

Isaac 'Ike' Martinelli - Dappled Elk. Born in New York City, New York. Manager of the Spiked Tiger. Intonation: Italian Brooklyn

Evelyn 'Siren' Doubois- Striped Polecat/American Mink. Born in New Orleans, Louisiana. Waitress/Novice Dancer at the Spiked Tiger. Intonation: Cajun

Daric 'Dee' Emmerson-Appaloosa Horse. Born in Dallas, Texas. Maitre d' of The Spikeded Tiger. Intonation: American Southern

Tanya 'Yaya' Powell- Coyote/Golden Jackel Hybrid. Born in Saint Paul, Minnesota. Dancer at the Spiked Tiger. Intonation: Upper Midwest American

Bennett 'Shark' Bowman- Gray Wolf. Born in Chicago, Illinois. Negotiator. Intonation: Mild Chicagoan

Rameka Magoro- Maned Lioness. Born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Tatto/Dye Artist. Intonation: General American

Santiago 'Sapo' Valencia- Andean Bear. Born in Bogota, Columbia. Owner and Manager of The Screeching Priest Pub. Intonation: Columbian


Obviously I know there is no such thing as a 'Dappled Blue-Gray Elk' or a 'Golden Clouded Leopard' but this is my world, let me live in it. X3 Also those of you unfamiliar with what a Mid Atlantic (or Transatlantic) accent is, it's basically a fabricated accent that gained popularity in the 30s & 40s with movie stars and the upperclass, it was usually taught at boarding school with etiquette classes. It's an interesting mix of American and British English. Katherine Hepburn and Carry Grant are the more notable users of the accent. I can only think of one example of a Mid Atlantic accent used in this day and age, Rarity from MLP has a (rather overdone) Mid Atlantic accent.

Theme 1: Introduction

The main entrance to The Spiked Tiger is a false wall built into the side of a narrow tunnel. Only a select group of clients have the ability to access the speakeasy. A hard shove will shift the cobblestone panel enough to allow entry into the corridor that runs parallel to the tunnel. At the end of the cramped, downward sloping walkway is a large mahogany door, a sharp rap upon the polished wood will summon the door man, a hefty Appaloosa stallion named Daric, who will ask for a membership card. After inspecting the mostly blank card (save for a small curled tiger’s tail in the center) he’ll grunt and step aside, giving the guest a full view of the extravagant interior of the nightclub.

On any given night one might spy a spry looking leopard performing on the wide stage across from the entrance. Tossing articles of clothing to and fro, using a large feather fan to cover up her modesty. The sound of the drums beating out a languid tune in harmony with the blares of a trumpet float about the room. A crowd is gathered at the foot of the stage, gentlemen dressed in suits and ties hooping and hollering at the prospect of getting a glimpse at what’s behind the large fans. As she finishes up her routine the cheering gets louder, she eggs on the crowd, asking if they wish to see exactly what is behind the fan. The curtains begin to close and the crowd grows frantic, wondering if all of the teasing was just that, a coy ruse meant to leave them wondering. But alas just before the curtains seal her away she lifts the fan to reveal that she is in nothing more than a sparkling brazier with matching panties. She gives a shimmy before parting the curtains and disappearing behind them with a wink. Satisfied the crowd goes wild, begging for an encore, some more brazen patrons asking for a private show. The announcer reveals that the next performance will commence in a half hour. Giving the guests ample time to toss back another drink or two.

At first glance it might seem like your typical illegal hooch operation but just under the surface there is a large power struggle going on. The liquor trade is a high stakes, highly competitive market and there is only so much of it to go around. It’s all about connections and no one is as connected as Mr. Sykes, the mysterious owner of the popular speakeasy. Most of the patrons haven’t even seen the proprietor as they acquired membership through one of the girls. All of the employees have seen Mr. Sykes at least once (as he insists on giving them the once over once they are hired) and for most once is enough. Described as a brick wall he is a towering achromatic tiger with broad shoulders and a scowling face. His pale violet eyes are piercing and even though he can’t see out of his left one he manages to deliver an intimidating stare. His hands and forearms are riddled with scars from his time working in the mines of his hometown. His thick accent only intensifies his intimidation, he speaks forcefully, struggling to enunciate the foreign dialect. All in all it adds up to a very menacing image. No one is sure of Mr. Sykes actual name, some claim it’s Andrei, others Sergei, and some will swear it’s Sasha. But if one were to take a peek at his birth certificate they would discover that Mr. Sykes’ real name is in fact: Yury Rostov.

The unseen owner of the Spiked Tiger runs his place on a strict schedule. He believes that structure is key to a booming business. The girls must be at work, in the dressing room at 8 am sharp. They get their performance assignments at 8:15 and have until 8:30 to make any adjustments. Rehearsals run from 8:30 to 11:30 then the girls break for lunch. They have ‘free time’ (though their free time is usually spent fine tuning their acts, tweaking their costumes, and other housekeeping tasks) until the doors open at 6 then it’s show time.

The main attraction at the Spiked Tiger is Jezebel, a swanky clouded leopard. Her act alone brings in at least half of the guests of the joint and it’s no surprise why. Jezebel has a stage presence that is matched by none, her routines are the envy of burlesque queens everywhere. She is most noted for her fan dances and reindeer routine around the holidays. Jezebel has only been dancing for three years, recruited by Mr. Sykes himself she is the obvious favorite of the tough tiger. She’s one of the lucky (or unlucky) few who have been granted his company on numerous occasions. While she’s not the oldest dancer there she is the leader of the group, determining routine assignments and organizing other aspects of the club. She’s even been known to go on a few hooch runs with Ike, the clever stag who is the figure head of the Spiked Tiger and Mr. Sykes’ right hand. Jez is a versatile feline and her background is impressive to say the least. She came from money but lost it all when her father died of a ‘heart attack’ (most say it was no accident, but that’s a story for another time…) and left her with nothing. She spent a few months waitressing, struggling to make ends meet but soon she was discovered by Mr. Sykes and found her calling.

Theme 2: Love

“Bev! Beverly!” The tall stag’s yells were met with silence, “Ya know jus’ ‘cause you don’t answer me don’t mean you’ll get out of your double shift!”

“Ike, no!” The strangled cry originated from the dressing room and a half dressed leopard emerged from behind the door.

“Ah jeez, Bev! Cover up!” Ike politely averted his eyes as he waited for the dancer to put on a robe. Once she was decent she marched up to the manager, sticking a digit in his face and wagging it as she angrily scolded him.

“This is the second time this week, Ike! If I don’t get some sleep I’ll go mad. Find someone else to cover for Vera.” Beverly turned to leave but was caught by Ike, he latched his arms around her midsection and spun her back around.

“Look, if you don’t take Vera’s shift I’ll be the one left holding the bag. You’re my only hope, doll.” Ike gave a light squeeze of encouragement as he eagerly watched the face of his friend. The leopard squirmed a little at the guilt trip before heaving a sigh and pushing the manager away.

“Oh alright, you owe me one.” She huffed and attempted to fight the smile that crept on her face when the elk hooped and made a grab for her. She dodged him easily before slinking back behind the curtain, slightly deflated.

“You’re a real swell dame Bev!” He shouted after her.

“Dry up, Ike!” Came the muffled response. Ike could only chuckle at the antics of his best dancer. He knew the only reason Beverly agreed to cover for her ill co-worker was because she knew Ike was in a pickle. He couldn’t afford to upset the boss again this week. Mr. Sykes had nearly run him through when Ike had lost this week’s shipment to a pair of torpedoes (no doubt working for Sapo) the grumpy Russian dismissed him quietly, deciding it was time to take a more paws-on approach to dealing with his competition.

As Ike shuddered at the thought of what his boss could have done to him he started about his daily chores. He hopped over the bar and set to work cleaning the glasses. It wasn’t long before a loud crash erupted from behind the curtain. When the screams started Ike bolted to the dressing room, followed closely by Daric. The scene before them sent the pair into shock. One of the dancers, a Siamese cat, was sprawled on the floor, shaking violently as she foamed at the mouth. Her eyes were wide and filled with pain as she convulsed on the plush carpet.

“Do something!” Came the chocked sob of one of the girls. Ike sprung into action, immediately recognizing the symptoms. He firmly grasped the thrashing cat and turned her on her side. He motioned for the girls to clear the area around her so she wouldn’t bang any extremities on debris. As the convulsions stopped the feline gave a few sputters before slipping into unconsciousness. Ike hefted her up and placed her gently on the chaise in the corner of the room.

“S-should we call someone?” One of the newer girls asked quietly, immediately regretting it when she was met with several harsh looks.

“Alohrs pas, pischouette. We ain’t calln’ no one. You know what’ll go down if we get dem bulls down ‘ere? They’ll make the misère all right! We need ta call Doc Oderi, he’ll fix her up.*” A tall polecat scolded the meek, fresh faced girl. The others nodded in agreement, there was no way they could call an ambulance to a gin joint. Beverly rushed off to make the call as the others gathered around the rousing Siamese cat.

“Lynette,” Ike all but shouted in the dancer’s face, he refrained himself from shaking her but it was urgent she respond before she lost consciousness again, “Lynette, tell me who gave you this scag? Lyn, you’ve got to tell me.” This time he did give her a little shake, which seemed to be enough to shake out an answer from the cat.

“Don….Quixote.” The muttered reply that slipped from her lips earned an angry growl from the stag. He rose swiftly to his hooves and whispered to Daric before breezing out the door.

“Dee, who’s dis Don Key-hot-ay” The name was butchered when passed through the polecat’s impossibly thick Cajun accent.

“I dun know, Evelyn. But I reckon it’s someone in need of a good lashin’ if Isaac’s reaction is anythin’ to go on.”

It wasn’t long before Dr. Oderi arrived at the Spiked Tiger and confirmed what a few of the girls had suspected. The feline had a bad reaction to a peculiar mix of opiates, while she would live it was likely she would be out of commission for a few weeks. The groans that rippled through the dancers was evidence of their irritation at having to cover for another one of their own. Last week it was Vera who had sampled the deadly concoction that was being distributed by the mystery dealer. The week before then it had been Julia and before that Annabelle. While Mr. Sykes has a strict policy on drug and alcohol intake by his employees (Drink only when prompted by guests and stay away from drugs of any kind) the girls did enjoy letting loose every once in a while but nothing serious. It seemed as if someone had an out for the burlesque dancers of the Spiked Tiger and that didn’t sit well with any of them.

That afternoon Mr. Sykes paid a visit to his establishment to have a chat with all of his gals and lay down some ground rules about fraternizing with strange men. Five minutes before curtain Ike returned with a burly looking lion at his side, a thick envelope passed hands and the lion took his leave. Ike greeted none of the ladies as he slipped into the mens room, emerging a few minutes later in a new suit. The aura radiating off the elk kept most at bay though a rather brazen polecat’s curiosity could not be deterred by the atmosphere around the manager. As soon as Ike took his position behind the bar she hopped up on the counter.

“Evelyn, off.” Came the gruff command.

“My, my ain’t we a boudin’. What’s with da long face, mouche a mielle? Where you run offta dis morning’?**” She goaded the stag.

“None of ya damn business, now get off the friggin counter! People gotta eat off of that.” Ike slammed down the glass he was holding, it was then that Evelyn spied the dark splatters of red along his hands, face and neck. She leaned in a bit to confirm her suspicions, with a gasp she fervently muttered a short prayer before rounding on her friend.

“You possede***! What kind of evil you been up to? You can’t afford no more trouble Ike, you already in hot water.”

“Oh stuff it Ev, it had to be done.” Ike shrugged as he grabbed a towel to start wiping away the partially dried blood that clung to his fur.

“Had to be done, my eye! You listen here, stay away from Sapo and his pals or he’ll come after you, fuh shore,” Her angry words were only met with silence, “Cho, I’ll nevah undastand why you always gotta be da hero. A de’pouille if I eva saw one.****”

“Everything I do, I do for love Evelyn. Someone’s hurtin’ my gals I can’t stand by and just let it happen. I wouldn’t be a Martinelli if I did! You all are like sisters to me! I couldn’t let that scum get away with it, he purposely sold ‘em bad scag. Talked ‘em up real nice, make them think they were in for a good time. The world’s better off without a chump like that roaming the streets. You should be thanking me, you should be kissing my hooves in gratitude! I did you a favor!” Ike’s rant was met with the puckered expression of Evelyn.

“You a right coo-yon, a propah fool. You best watch a slap next time you pull an act like dis, Sapo will be comin’ for ya.” With that she slipped off the counter and made her way back to the table where she was entertaining some patrons.

“Ah, vaffanculo Ev!” The profanity echoed in the club, turning a few heads and earning a couple of whistles of approval. Ike flipped up the collar of his shirt and thumbed his nose, attempting to push Evelyn’s words from his mind. At the end of the day Ike didn’t care that the polecat didn’t approve, he did it for love.

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*Rough translation: Of course not, sweetie! We aren't calling anyone. You know what will happen if we get the police down here? They'll cause too much trouble. We need to call Doctor Oderi, he will cure her."

**Rough translation: My my, aren't we grumpy. What's with the long face, honeybee? Where did you run off to this morning?

***Possede: Evil/demon child.

****Rough translation: 'Had to be done', never! You listen here, stay away from Sapo and his pals or he'll come after you for sure...Wow, I'll never understand why you always have to be the hero. A mess if I ever saw one.

'Torpedos'- Hired guns

'Watch the slap'- Watch out for the backlash/I'm going to slap you

'Vaffanculo' is Italian for 'go f*** yourself'. Plus 10 points if you knew what that meant because of the Godfather. CX

Theme 3: Drive

“Drive.”

The shivering chauffeur didn’t need to be told twice. At the hushed command he slammed his hoof on the pedal of the bulky van. The old vehicle gave a sputter before roaring to life. The two hooded figures shared a glance, the smaller of the two wrapped the long cloak tighter around themselves. They rode in silence, mulling over what just happened. Once the lush countryside of New York faded away to the grimy city they called home the shaken driver stopped at an intersection. Taking advantage of the deserted roads at this hour, he put the car in park.

“This is bad. Real bad.” The normally orotund voice was tremulous and breathy, he gripped the wheel tightly as his eyes shifted about and his heart still hammered in his wide chest.

“We didn’t have a choice, Ike.” While the anxious driver’s companion had meant to sooth the frayed nerves of her accomplice it sounded as if she was trying to quell her own bout of panic.

“Yeah, that’s not the way the boss is gonna see it…” Ike drew in a shaky breath before throwing the car into drive and speeding down the damp streets.


A few hours earlier....

“This is the second shipment in a row you have spoiled, Sam*. Next time I’ll end you.” The butchered reply was met with a swift nod. The achromatic tiger that sat behind the large mahogany desk laces his fingers together as he thought about his next step. The hunched stag that stooped before him took a gamble and looked up, trying to read the expression of his boss.

“I know, Sy. It won’t happen again, I promise-“

“Enough, I don’t need excuses,” The brooding tiger’s pale eyes lit up as a plan floated to the surface of his idea pool, “Lucky for you I’m owed a favor from Jacks, go to this location and tell him I sent you. He will give us enough gin to tie us over, it won’t be quality but it’ll do the trick.” The tiger tossed a folded piece of paper at his subordinate then waved him off.

Ike hobbled back to his office, collapsing in his rickety chair and rubbing at his bruised ribs. Sapo’s goons had done him over, taking this week’s supply with them. It had taken a considerable amount of time for Ike to stumble back to the van, he debated telling his boss or just solving the problem on his own. Eventually he reasoned that it was better to tell Yury straight instead of having him hear from a third party. Ike was lucky he didn’t get clocked by the burly tiger and was grateful that he had given him an opportunity to redeem himself. As he stared at the address trying to figure out where exactly it was in the city a soft knock reached his ears.

“Yeah? Whaddya want?”

“Ike? One of the girls said they saw you duck in here all banged up.” The soft features of a familiar feline emerged from behind the door.

“I wouldn’t say ‘banged up’ a bit jostled maybe but nothin’ serious, Bev.” Ike attempted to chuckle but the movement caused a sharp pain to ripple across his chest. Beverly rushed into the dimly lit room, turning on the lamp by the door before taking her friend’s face in her hands.

“Well they sure jostled you good. Ike you gotta stop challenging Sapo’s guys.” Bev set to work assessing his injuries, much to Ike’s chagrin.

“Come on now Beverly, lay off. It’s nothin’ a good swig of giggle water can’t cure.” He gently pushed her away, setting to work on deciphering the address location. Beverly gave him a stern look before deciding it wasn’t worth the fuss, she snatched at the piece of paper in Ike’s hands. Turning it over she shot him a puzzled look.

“What’s this? An address of one of your shebas? You gonna give her a spin in the ol’ struggle buggy?” The leopard gave Ike a playful wink and giggled at the slight blush that dusted Ike’s cheeks.

“Shut your trap, ya bug eyed Betty,” Ike grumbled and dodged the open hand that flew his way at the insult, “Say, Bev you wouldn’t want to join me for a hooch run would ya? I could sure use your bluenose ways, this place is in the swanky neighborhood.” Ike gave a lazy smile, assuring Beverly that the jabs weren’t meant to wound. She tried to hide the excitement that sparked in her eyes as she coolly replied.

“If only to make sure you don’t get into another scrap.” The two gathered their coats and scarves then made a swift exit. The drive to the upscale neighborhood was fairly quiet, both thinking about a strategy for approaching this potentially dangerous situation. The old car came to a squealing halt in front of a lavish mansion, the two hopped down from the car and pushed through the gate that surrounded the front yard of the home. The massive double doors that signified the entrance to the manor were adorned with a large, ostentatious knocker. Ike lifted the gilded wooden elephant head and released it, the satisfying clang being met with a muffled reply. It wasn’t long before the door was being dragged back by a scrawny looking jackal. He regarded the two for a moment before motioning them into the hall.

“Isaac, I see you are looking…well.”

“Yeah, good to see you too Jacks. I’m sure you know who sent me, what’ve ya got?” Ike rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get some warmth as he waited for the canine’s response.

“This is short notice but I’ll see what I can scrounge up,” Jacks motioned for the pair to follow him, but stopped short once he remembered something, “Isaac, could you bring that hayburner around the back? It’ll make it easier to load.” The elk gave a short nod and gave Bev’s hand a reassuring squeeze before slipping back outside. It took Ike a good 20 minutes to get the car started and parked outback.

When the cervine returned he found Beverly standing over Jacks’ motionless body, a bloodied candelabra in her hands. The wild look in Beverly’s eyes gave Ike pause. Without a word the two went about loading up the illicit alcohol into the false bottom of the truck. Once they finished Beverly went back inside alone as Ike went over exactly what just happened in there. While he trusted Beverly with his life he was confused as to how things escalated so quickly. Jacks was technically one of Sapo’s suppliers so any harm that came to him was likely to be repaid tenfold by the Columbian bear. The more he thought about it the more worried he grew, this wouldn’t go unnoticed by Sapo.


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Whew! This one was a bit hard to churn out. Lost my footing about half way through so sorry for the slight choppiness. DX

*Sam is short for Samka (the English pronunciation of the Russian word) which is the Russin word for the female of a species. Here it is the equivalent of calling him a sissy in English.

Theme 4: Memory

It was a slow day at the Spiked Tiger, most of the employees had finished their daily tasks and were gathered on or around the stage making small talk. Gina, the youngest of the dancers and newest addition turned to Ike with a pensive look on her face.

“Hey, Ike…how come Mr. Sykes calls you Sam? Isn’t your full name Isaac?” Gina’s curiousity only grew when she heard Beverly and Evelyn burst into a fit of giggles.

“Cazzo, that giant bozo still insists on humiliating me at any chance he gets.” Isaac pouted a little as he stewed over the ridiculous name his cohort gave him. He gave Gina a look before diving into the story of how he got his unusual nickname.


The bang of a backfiring car caused the slender elk to jump slightly. He was unfamiliar with this area of New York, he steered clear knowing it was the territory of the Russian Mafia and due to his association with the Italian Mafia it was no surprise that it made his antsy to be here. Why he had agreed to meet up with this perfect stranger he would never know but when the mysterious individual mentioned dealings with liquor Isaac Martinelli knew he wanted in. So that’s how he found himself alone, in the middle of enemy territory, with nothing but a small switchblade to defend himself with. He flipped up the collar of his jacket in an attempt to block some of the wind that ripped through the busy street.

“Are you the Italian suka*?” The rumbling voice interrupted Ike’s thoughts and he spun around to face the speaker.

“Depends, are you the Russian carogna** that reached out?” Ike squinted as he tried to make out the shadowy figure that was addressing him. He noticed with a groan that the secretive being was not alone. “Didn’t know I needed to bring friends, thought this was a private affair?”

“Just precaution. Can never be too careful these days, da?” The orator stepped out from the allyway, the light from the short lamppost illuminated his face. Ike couldn’t help but gawk a little. This guy was massive, at least twice Ike’s size. He was a Amur Tiger, albino from the looks of it, his eyes a pale violet color. He had several angry pink scars on his hands and forearms and a hint of a ragged wound on his chest peaked out from his dress shirt. Ike swallowed hard as he sized up the tiger.

“Right. So, we gonna get down to business. You were a bit unclear over the phone…” Ike trialed off as the tiger took several steps forward until his large pink nose was taking up most of Ike’s vision.

“Silence samka suka. You nag like woman.” He turned to address his comrades, “A real samka eh? I bet he even screams like one!” Ike scrunched up his face, unclear on what exactly ‘samka’ meant but not liking the sound of it either way. His displeasure only increase when the tiger made a sudden movement. The yelp that erupted from Ike’s mouth was less than manly and the laughter that erupted from the Russian tiger had the elk blushing angrily.

“Just as I thought. You sure you’ve got a pair down there?” He clapped a heavy hand over Ike’s shoulder and shook him a bit. Before the grumpy elk could respond he dragged him off in the direction from which he emerged. “Come, Samka. We have work to do.”

“Ah, stuff it yous guys.” Ike huffed and crossed his arms at the giggles that were had at his expense.

“Aw Ike, we’re only joshin’.” The golden leopard gave her friend sympathetic pat. She struggled to fight down a smile as Ike glared at her.

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A short one today, still not quite recovered from yesterday's migraine. >.>

Suka- English phonetic spelling of the Russian word for 'b*tch

Carogna- Italian for a-hole

Samka- Englsih phonetic spelling of the Russian word for 'female' mostly used when talking about the female of a species. Yury is essentially calling Ike a girl/girly man.

Theme 5: Blood

“And then she had the audacity to hit me over the head with my grandmothers candelabra!” The bandaged jackal gave a huff as he studied the back of the large swivel chair. The occupant of the chair slowly turned around the ghost of a snarl on his lips.

“How unfortunate, huevón. I see you still have not recovered from that blow, eh? Looks like a nasty cut.” The bear feigned concern and the jackal fell for it, he placed a scrawny clawed hand on the large teak desk.

“She took me completely by surprise, the sneaky hussy.”

“What a shame.” That was the only thing that was said before a swift motion caught the attention of the majority of the occupants in the room. Quick as lightning the bear had whipped out a small dagger and drove it in between the second and third knuckle of the jackal. The scream of pain that left the victims mouth only made the bear angrier. He gave a sharp flick of his wrist and the dagger twisted, the screams died down to a steady stream of whimpers as the bear gave his warning.

“I don’t know who you think you are dealing with mutt but no one, I mean no one steals from Santiago Valencia. Jacks, this is your first strike.” He lifted the dagger and freed the jackal, with a nod of his head he dismissed Jacks, the injured party had no qualms about getting out of their.

“My deepest apologies Sapo, the next shipment is free of charge, of course.” Jacks turned to leave only to be startled by the sound of a revolver. He only managed to squeak as the bullet pierced through his chest. Jacks fell to the floor, clutching his chest with a look of anguish on his face. Sapo rose slowly from his chair, taking the half smoked cigar from his mouth as he loomed over the dying jackal. He leveled the revolver and gave a small smile.

“Ah, I should have told you, Columbians don’t play baseball.” Sapo didn’t even blink as he fired one last shot between Jacks eyes.

Sapo slowly turned back to his desk and tossed the (still loaded) revolver at the one of the looming figures that stood at the outskirts of the room. They wasted no time in gathering the lifeless body of one of their minor suppliers. They then filed out of the room one a time, the last with Jacks’ body slung over his shoulder. The only other person in the room was a short panda bear who was flipping through a worn book.

“Lanfen! I think it’s time we paid our pal a visit.” Sapo snuffed out the cigar and gathered his coat. Lanfen slowly closed the book with a sour look on her face.

“I was just getting to the good part.” She grumbled as she followed her boss out of the door. Sapo gave a loud shout of laughter before fixing Lanfen with a confused look.
“Of Dante’s Inferno?” He couldn’t help the smile that inched across his face. His cohort was one of the most peculiar individuals he had ever encountered. She had her quirks but there was no mistaking her performance, she always got the job done.

While Sapo had been referred to as a monster for the majority of his ‘professional’ career he wasn’t as bad as most made him out to be. Even though the chilling tales of some of the things he did in the name of his empire were true, everything was done for a reason. He wasn’t an irrational being, he didn’t let his feelings rule him. He couldn’t afford to have his judgment clouded not when there was such a big target on his back. He controlled 45% of the illegal hooch that flowed into New York and the slightest misstep would whip his rivals up in a frenzy. It was this reason that he could not let Yury get away with this, if Sapo let this slide it would cause irreparable damage to his image. No one stole from Satiago Valencia.

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Working on fleshing out my side characters/villains.

'Sapo' is spanish slang for a snitch, so his name is Santiago 'The Snitch' Valencia.

Theme 6: Are You Challenging Me?

The screeching that came from behind the dressing room curtain was grating on Ike’s nerves, even Dee was starting to get annoyed. The two dancers had been going at it for the last 15 minutes with no end in sight. It had started as a simple argument over the big Christmas number the girls were doing and it had escalated into a shouting match. While this was normal behavior for Evelyn the instigator, Ike was surprised that Jez had taken the bait so easily.

“Pischouette, you know good n’ well dat I’m always Vixen! ‘Sides you look absolutely zeerah* with dat get up!”

“Well Evelyn, it’s time we had a switch up around here. Besides I look marvelous in this reindeer outfit. It fits me better.”

“Arrete toi**, I don’t see how any’ting can look good on that wide frame o’ yours.” The squeak of anger that echoed through the facility was followed closely by a string of profanities that were unbecoming of the feline who uttered them.

The argument had only intisifed and Ike realized that there was no way the two would resolve this on their own. But before the elk could step in a heavy paw landed on his shoulder, rooting him to the spot.

“Don’t worry Sam, I’ll handle this.” The rumbling voice set Ike’s nose twitching, his flighty nature kicking in and telling him that danger was afoul. No matter how many times he was in the presence of the tiger he got that flighty feeling. The hulking mass of fur and muscle waltzed over with the grace of a gazelle. He parted the curtains and slipped inside. Curiosity spiked in the manager and he followed quickly behind.

The two dancers were still screeching, oblivious to the entrance of their boss. The polecat had snatched the antler headband off the head of her co-worker and was not waving it around and shaming the outfit the leopard had on. The feline was about to respond when Yury cleared his throat. The words died on the leopard’s lips and he ears flattened on her head.

“M-Mr. Sykes…what brings you here?” She had a sheepish grin on her face and a light bush spread across her cheeks.

“Well, I came to check in to make sure everything was, how to you say, ‘hunky-dory’ for tonight when I heard two of my girls fighting like ally cats. What is the problem ladies?” While Yury’s words held no malice his eyes were alight with irritation.

“No problem! Just a…misunderstanding!” The clouded leopard fixed a smile on her face to assure the looming tiger that there was no issue to be dealt with.

“Coo-Wee, all dat hullabaloo you just heard was just how us folks down the bayou express our love, mon cher. It don’t mean much.” The polecat gave a wide smile as she gently placed the antlers back on the head of her fellow dancer. The two then linked arms in a show of good faith. That was enough to please Yury and he gave a curt nod.

“That’s more like it. We do enough fighting with Sapo and his crew, we don’t need and disagreements among ourselves…speaking of which, I have some business to take care of with Sam and Dee. Beverly, Evelyn, could you two come with me to tend to some guests?” The two noded in unison before following their boss out to the main area of the Spiked Tiger.

“Don’t think you’ve won this. I’m still Vixen in the performance, sweetie.” Bev whispered to the polecat.

“Mais, jamais d'la vie! You bonne a rienne, I have half a mind to stick you in a caisse and leave you ‘dere until da show, vielle fille!***” Evelyn yanked on Beverly’s arm causing her to stumble a bit. Beverly pushed back and the two jostled for a bit until they laid eyes on their ‘guests’. The gasp that left the two simultaneously caught the attention of the large bear that was lounging in one of the large evening chairs that were resevered for the V.I.P.s of the Spike Tiger. He gave a slow smile as he rose from the chair to bow, the two jaguars at his side did the same. The last guest in the room was a grumpy looking elephant who was still seated in his chair, refusing to make eye contact with the two dancers. Evelyn and Beverly straightened up and returned the bow with a curtsy of their own. All signs of the tomfoolery that was going on before had vanished and been replaced by the placid expression that was reserved for serving guests at the speakeasy.

“Good afternoon sirs, may we interest you in a drink?” Beverly addressed the small group with a sickly sweet smile on her face.

“Oh nothing for me, mija. I need a clear head, besides I doubt I’d be able to down any of the coffin varnish you sell here.” The off handed insult was not lost on the pair and they bowed politely before stepping off to the side to observe what was about to happen. It wasn’t long before Yury returned with Ike at his heels, the two stopped before the bear and his gang and gave a cursory bow.

“Sykes.”

“Sapo.”

The two regarded each other for a brief minute before jumping right into business.

“Right, well it seems as if there is some confusion on who owns what shipments. I caught wind that you’ve been dipping into my supply, Sykes.” The warning in his voice was coupled with annoyance and neither went unnoticed by Yury.

“What proof do you have?” The tiger sneered as he leaned back in the chair that he was in. Sapo slammed his fist on the arms of the chair

“To hell with proof! You know what you’ve done and I’m here to tell you that if you don’t watch your back you’ll soon find a knife in it.” The jaguars by his side growled for emphasis.

“Sapo, when will you learn that your treats don’t scare me? I’m not one of your low key backwater gin joints. I am not to be trifled with.” Yury gave another sly grin before lacing his digits together to signal that he had said all he needed.

“I figured you’d be difficult. Sykes, I’d like to introduce you to my pal, Kamran,” Sapo gestured to the silent elephant that had been observing the exchange. He stood and adjusted the rimless glasses perched at the bridge of his long trunk.

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Sykes. I’ve heard so much about you and your establishment.” The pachyderm spoke in a sharp British accent tinted with the native flair that was common for residents of British India. His eyes finally flicked over to quickly asses the two attendants who had been watching the exchange with rapt interest.

“Who is this?” Yury demanded as his hackles rose. He got a nasty vibe from this fella, even though he looked nice enough.

“Kam is just here to make sure we all keep to our own jobs, in our own districts. I’ve let you thrive here Sykes, don’t make me squash you out like my other competition.” Sapo stood and gave a jerk of his head, notifying his torpedoes that it was time to go. They followed him towards the exit, but Kamran lingered. He sauntered over to Bev and Evelyn, surprisingly light on his feet. He loomed over the two and gave a toothy grin.

“Word on the street is you have a mean right hook Miss Collins.” Kamran’s smile only widened as he watched the shock bloom Beverly’s eyes. As he strolled towards the exit he left Beverly in a state of disbelief, Ike with something akin to panic in his eyes, and Yury and Evelyn sporting a confused expression. It seemed as if the holidays wouldn’t be filled with as much joy as they initially thought.

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Uh-oh! Looks like our merry band of mischief makers are in for some trouble from our neighborhood pachyderm.

*Zeerah- Ridiculous

**Arrete Toi: 'Stop, you!'

***Rough Translation: Well, never in my life! You heathen! I have half a mind to stick you in a trunk and leave you there until the show, old maid!

Theme 7: Two Roads

Beverly Collins was a privileged child. She was lucky enough to be born to a wealthy family, was sent to the best boarding school in the country, and was betrothed to an equally wealthy son of an oil tycoon. Yes, Beverly had it all, but despite her superior upbringing she was humble. Admittedly she didn’t go out of her way to help those less fortunate than her but she was aware of her advantages. She was on track to being in the limelight as ‘New York’s Newest It Girl’, the engagement to Grantham Rigg was generating a big buzz.

Thinking back on it Beverly should have noticed the signs that trouble was brewing but she was quite naïve. Her father ran a law firm and while she never knew exactly what kind of clients he dealt with she knew that privacy was a staple to her father’s business. There were many a nights during her childhood where she was ushered out of her father’s study so he could discuss business with his newest client. They were frightening characters, usually clad in pinstripe suits with canes and a glowering expression. Most didn’t give her so much as a glance as her governess tugged her past, though some would offer a sneer that revealed their crooked teeth. When she would ask her father he would either brush her off or change the subject. The first time she read about who he father defended in court she just about had a heart attack.

Nicholas ‘Cole’ Collins was the go-to-guy for New York’s most ruthless mobsters. He graduated top of his class from Yale and immediately went to work for his grand father’s lawfirm, Collins & Co. Throughout school he had been close friends with Sal Malone, who was the star football player for the school team, and their friendship continued after graduation. But while Cole went about rising in the ranks at Collins & Co, Sal took a less ambitious route picking up on the rising power of the mafia. Both excelled in their own field but once Sal reached a level in his mob ring that caught the attention of rivals he ran into some legal trouble. A well planned set up and a high profile murder landed Sal on the wrong side of a two-way mirror.

When Cole got the call from his college pal he nearly fell out of his chair. Cole had never defended a murder suspect, hell he hadn’t even defended a ‘violent’ offender. Not one to bail on his friends and confidant that Sal was indeed innocent Cole offered his services. When the verdict of not guilty was announced there was an immediate shift in power among New York City’s underworld. The Italian Mob was now at the front of the pack, while Sal was indeed innocent it appeared to the other families and mafia rings that he had bumped off the leader of the head family in the rival gang. And now with Cole at his side Sal, the new Don of the Italian Mafioso, was untouchable.

The pair rode the high tide for a few years until the Prohibition law was passed. The seedy underground of New York turning into a hot spot, the business of smuggling and selling illegal booze had taken off. Every family wanted a piece of the action. The two most prominent cardholders were the Italian and Russian mob. They had the biggest pieces of the trade and wanted to expand further. The tension between the two clans was reaching a breaking point, both bosses in a battle of wills wondering which would make the first move. Thanks to a couple of trigger happy underlings, Sal and his cutthroats carried out a hit on the boss of the Russian mafia.

While Sal wasn’t happy with the way it was handled he was glad that his biggest rivals in the hooch trade were dealt with. He was in negotiations to take over the Russian mob’s suppliers when he got wind of some rather disturbing information. It seemed as if bleeding heart Cole was offering his legal services to the widow of the Russian Don (who was up for her husband’s murder). The conversation Sal had with Cole about his betrayal was akin to a yelling match ending with Cole severing all ties with Sal and his crew. The crushing blow left Sal craving revenge and he reacted the only way he knew how. He hired some of his lackeys to take out his former friend and partner in crime. Too little too late did he realize that his plan would have devastating consequences.

Sal tried his hardest to keep tabs on Cole’s wife and daughter but after Patricia Collins fell into a deep depression and landed herself in an asylum Beverly went off the grid. It wasn’t until a few years later when he was visiting his nephew at his place of work when he spied a stunning clouded leopard dancing on stage. Enamored he inquired about the leopard and the response he got nearly knocked him off his feet. If Cole was alive to see what his daughter had become he’d have a heart attack. He pulled his nephew closer and told him to keep a eye out for Beverly, who now went by the moniker ‘Jezebel’. Now that Sal had found Cole’s daughter he’d do his damnedest to make sure she stayed safe, or as safe as once could be when a burlesque dancer at a speakeasy. Though Beverly didn’t know it, she had a very powerful ally on her side.

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Finally pinned down exactly what happened to Mr. Collins. Also gave Bev some leverage in the mafia world, she's more involved than she thinks. X3

And in case you haven't figured it out yet, Ike is Sal's nephew (Ike's mother is Sal's sister).

Theme 8: Breathe Again

When Isaac officially branched away from his uncle’s ‘family’ it felt like a breath of fresh air. The stag had never realized it before but he had felt suffocated and tied down when he was working for his uncle. The caribou didn’t trust his nephew as fear as he could throw him (and with his bad knees that wasn’t very far), so he usually sent a watchdog with Ike to make sure he was doing what he was supposed to do. The young gunman had trouble focusing on certain tasks, especially stakeouts and trailing, he would usually get distracted and miss his target. He was an excellent shot but had no pride in what he did, unlike others of his profession.

Ike’s mother had always said that he was a lover, not a fighter. When he got his assigned job from his uncle his father had been proud while his mother was displeased. She knew it was only for show, Sal disregarded assigning a job that was a good fit for Ike and instead wanted to make a statement. Lead hitman was a coveted position as they held the most power, next to the Don, in the Malone family. Ike was honored to be given this position. He went off to the homeland to train for a year and when he returned on his 18th birthday Issac Martinelli was a trained killer with an excellent shot. Sal put him right to work, having him orchestrate an elaborate coop of the main rival family in the Italian mob: The Feraldo family. It took a few years of careful moves but by the beginning start of the prohibition the Malone family controlled 90% of the illegal hooch trade in Brooklyn.

At the height of prohibition the Malones were riding high. Money was flowing in like a river and the cops couldn’t touch ‘em. Sal had bigger plans though and it wasn’t long before he was calling for the take over of other mobs in New York. He didn’t just want to control all of the Italian mob’s booze he wanted the Irish, Columbian, Venezuelan, and even the up and coming Russian mob’s liquor. When news broke to Ike he was understandably reluctant to act. Sal didn’t care that gaining control of the other Italian mafia families earned him some new enemies and he still needed to gain the trust of his new cohorts.

So when Ike got the cryptic message that was slipped under his door he was inclined to look into it. ‘I can see you squirming under the weight of your kin. I have a proposition for you. It will give you freedom and get you away from imminent danger. Meet me across from Alexi’s Pawn Shop at 9 tomorrow. Come alone.’ Ike’s first instinct was to laugh and toss the note away but something in the back of his mind was urging him to go. To at least see what the guy wanted. Ike’s mother nearly had a fit when he told her he was going to meet the mystery guy. She was convinced it was a hit sent out by one of the scorned families. Ike assured her this wasn’t the M.O. of any of the families.

When he was standing at the corner in the middle of Russian mafia turf the little voice in the back of his head that said it was a good idea suddenly backtracked. Before he could cut his losses and return home the mystery contact emerged from the shadows. Ike had initially been apprehensive but soon relaxed in the company of Yury Rostov. While he was lacking in the manners department he seemed like a trustworthy guy and Ike could respect that. His proposition was extremely tempting, Yury wanted to open up a speakeasy with Ike as the frontrunner. Yury would use his contacts to supply the place, but it would be under the protection of both the Russian and Italian mafia.

Ike explained the situation to Sal and the don was a bit reluctant to let his nephew go into the claws of ‘the enemy’. After Ike mentioned that this would be a great way for Sal to keep an eye on the Russian mob without gaining an enemy Sal agreed. A week later Isaac Martinelli was out of the limelight, Yury got a place together surprisingly fast and he even got a few dancers to keep the customers entertained. The Spiked Tiger was remarkably popular from the start, money was flowing in and booze was flowing out. Ike felt like he could live freely again, he was no longer walking around with a massive target on his back. His association with the Malone family was minimal and Sal’s enemies no longer saw him as a real threat. Indeed now that he was out from under the scrutiny of his uncle it felt as if Ike could breathe again.



-----------------------------
Wanted to dive a bit into Ike's background and his involvement with the mob. Also when I mention the 'family' know it means the mob family and not Issac's actual biological family.


I know his biological family tree is a bit confusing so here is a breakdown:

Isaac Martinelli is the son of Enzo Martinelli and Abrianna Martinelli (nee Malone)

Abrianna is the sister to Sal Malone. Their parents were Ennis Malone and Gianna Malone (nee Salucci)

So to clarify who's mafia born and who isn't: Ennis Malone married into the Salucci 'family' (Gianna's father was the Don), then Sal took over after his grandfather (which shifted the mafia 'family' name to Malone). Then Enzo Martinelli married into the Malone 'family' (Abrianna's brother is the Don).

Technically the Malone family line is Irish/Italian by blood but they have no real ties (business or otherwise) to the Irish Mob.

Whew, I know it's confusing but Ike's family tree is going to come into play real soon so it's important that I lay it out now. :3

Theme 9: No Way Out


Daric Emmerson is usually the odd man out at the Spiked Tiger. While his height and build make him the perfect doorman, his personality and background make it painfully obvious that he belongs somewhere far from the dark business that is the illegal liquor trade. He was born in a small town outside of Dallas, Texas his family was as country as they come. He was the oldest of 8 and didn’t learn how to read until he was well into his teens. His father died of pneumonia when he was 16 and he took over the daily chores at the farm. He struggled to provide for his family and soon he was caught up with a gang of cattle rustlers in order to keep his family afloat. It was fine and he probably would have grown up into a proper hoodlum if it wasn’t for that fateful day….


”Maw! There’s a fancy lookin’ feller outside!” The youngest of the Emmerson family shouted to his mother from his spot at the window. The short colt hopped down from his chair to greet the man who rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Gee, he even knocks all fancy like,” He muttered before swinging the door open, “Howdy sir! Yer lookin’ fer someone?” The tall Andalusian at the entrance removed his monocle with a look of disdain at the tyke before clearing his throat.

“Yes, I am looking for someone. A Mr. Derek Emmerson.” He spoke above the colt, in a proper British accent, looking straight ahead. The young one gave him a funny look before understanding dawned on him.

“Ohh you mean Daric! Yea he’s around back, I’ll go get him!” He took off without another word, leaving the guest in a rather awkward position. Lucky for him he was saved when a short and swat filly emerged from one of the rooms in the back. She was covered in flour and had an apron on her wide frame. Her warm smile was genuine and she motioned for the Andalusian to make himself comfortable.

“So sorry ‘bout tha, lil’ DJ is a bit of o’ a wild one. I’m Gael Emmerson, I heard you were lookin’ for my son?” Her thick Irish accent took the guest a second longer to decipher before he responded.

“Ah, yes. It seems as if there has been a bit of an issue with my boss. Nothing serious, he just wants to talk to the boy. I’m Rex Worthington of the Lazuli Estate. My boss and I recently purchased the plot of land down the road.”

“Oh? Nice to finally meet ya-” Gael stopped short, remembering the large house that was build on the 100 acre plot. She also remembered the rumors that had been circulating about the…activities that had gone on in that that house. All the result of the rather ‘eccentric’ preferences of the owner. She eyed Rex a bit closer, looking for signs that he was a part of the eccentric lifestyle of his boss. Before she oculd come to a conclusion her son trudged through the back door, covered in a fine layer of dirt and dust. He set down the long axe and dusted himself off a bit before stomping over to Rex and his mother. He gave his mother’s shoulder a small squeeze before extending a hand to the other adult in the room.

“Heard ya was lookin’ fer me? What can I do ya fer?” The other equine accepted his extended hand in a firm grasp.

“Maybe it would be best if we stepped outside for this chat.” Rex eyeballed Gael and the small herd of young ones that had gathered to gawk at the fancy guy looking for their big brother. Daric glanced back before nodding solemnly and lead the way out the front door. Once the two were a good distance from the run down house Daric crossed his arms and sized up the other horse.

“Well?” He drawled lazily waiting for Rex to reveal why he had come looking for him. Rex gave the younger male a look of contempt before getting down to business.

“Right, I’m Rex Worthington of the Lazuli Estate. I’d love to skip the pleasantries and get right down to it. You and I both know exactly why I’m here Mr. Emmerson. You and your band of merry men took something of great value from my boss’ home. Now my boss is a kind man and all will be forgiven if you’d just return what you took and offered up an apology.” Rex fixed Daric with a hard stare, his irritation only growing when Daric shrugged his wide shoulders.

“Can’t. Pawned it.” He picked at some dirt under his fingernails and sucked his teeth as he waited for Rex’s response.

“How unfortunate.” Rex tisked, his expression growing dark before he jerked his head in the direction of the swanky motor vehicle a few feet away. Daric’s head snapped up at the sound of the back doors opening and two hulking figures stepping out of the car. They flanked the slightly smaller male and grabbed him none too gently under the arms.

“Hey! Whadya doin? Put me down!” Daric was quickly silenced with a swift backhand across the face. It was then that Gael ran out of the house yelling and waving a ladle around.

“Now, now ma’am we’ll bring him back in one piece more or less. After a quick chat with my boss.” Rex hustled the two back into the car, the thugs dragging Daric’s unconscious body between them.

The short ride back to the estate was long enough for the Appaloosa to rouse from his forced slumber. He rubbed his cheek slowly as he processed exactly how much trouble he was in. With a quite groan he vowed to beat Old Jack senseless for getting him into this mess…provided he came out of this alive.

TBC…

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Decided to break this one up in two parts. Poor Daric! He’s just a kid, I hope Rex’ boss doesn’t work him over too much. :o

Edit: I also feel as if I need to clarify a potentially confusing point of this story. By 'cattle rustlers' I mean that Daric was involved with a group of bovines who steal things and cause general trouble for others. Not that he is involved in a group of bandits that steals cattle from their owners (because that would add some freaky Animal Farm-esque aspect to this world X3)

Theme 10: Seeking Solace


Daric was dragged out of the car and shoved towards the elaborate walkway none too gently. He stumbled up the entrance and into the extravagant foyer, he only had half a second to take in the magnificent architecture before he was pushed through a doorway into a dimly lit study. The figure behind the desk was puffing away at a pipe while fiddling with a pair of bent reading glasses. He didn’t look up until Rex cleared his throat announcing the new presence in the room.

“Ah, hello Rex. I see you’ve brought me a visitor?” The lithe Thoroughbred eyed the newcomer with hunger in his eyes, “He seems a bit young to play though Rex…”

“No, sir. This is the young man who stole your…statue.” Daric didn’t miss the way Rex’s eyes flicked over to him as he attempted to come up with a name for the item. The head of the household raised a manicured eyebrow and his eyes took on a frightening glint in them.

“I assume he is no longer in possession of it?” When Rex confirmed his suspicion he let out a longsuffering sigh. “Goodness me I really hate to dispose of such a strapping young man, and on such a nice day too.” The last bit was muttered as the Thoroughbred opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a Smith & Wesson.

“Whoa, whoa! This is hardly somethin’ ta get this worked up over!” Daric’s heart did double time as he frantically tried to think of a way to walk away from this, “It-it was jus some stupid statue! It wasn’t even real gold! Gilded! I hardly got anythin’ fer it!”

“Ah, my dear boy. If it was a matter of the statue itself I could let you off with a stern talking to but sadly it was what was inside the statue that was of interest to me and my business partner.”

“In….side?” Daric could only whisper as Sir. Haddox approached him, gun leveled at his head.

“Yes, inside. See there was a large sum of money and quite a few…incriminating items stuffed in there. My business associate will not be happy to learn that it’s no longer in my possession. He’s gonna demand someone’s head, and it sure as spit isn’t going to be mine. Now…” Harvey drew the hammer back with a sickening click and took aim.

“I-I can- I can work it off!” Daric threw the half baked idea out in the open hoping the equine approaching him with a loaded gun would bite. Daric all but passed out when he saw Harvey lower the firearm and mull over the thought.

“How?”

“H-how?” Daric echoed dumbly. He hadn’t really thought this far in his plan.

“Yes you blank faced parrot, how?” Sir Haddox crossed his arms and set his mouth in a tight frown.

“Well sir, I’m good with my hands and I’ve got a bit of a green thumb.” The trembling young man feebly replied.

“Yard work will hardly cover the cost of the lost merchandise,” Harvey dismissed the idea and once again raised the gun, “Now I know it’ll be hard but if you could somehow refrain from falling backward and bleeding out on my Persian rug that would be much appreciated.”

It took all of Daric’s willpower to maintain control of his bodily functions as he watched Harvey squeeze the trigger. Daric couldn’t decided if he wanted to watch the bullet zip toward him or if he wanted to close his eyes and wait for death to take him so he just stood there blinking rapidly as his brain went into overdrive.

“Sir? I think young Derek could actually be of use to us.” Daric had never been more relieved in his short life. He almost turned around and hugged Rex, but thought better of it for fear of startling Harvey and having the socialite shoot him anyways. Harvey let out another irritated sigh as he carelessly threw up his hands in exasperation.

“Confound it all! What is it, Rex?” The posh horse made his way around the shell-shocked Appaloosa and pulled Harvey aside. The two of them whispered for what felt like eternity, Harvey throwing a few pouts Daric’s way as it became apparent that what Rex was saying meant that no one was getting shot today. After a reluctant nod and flippant dismissal of Rex the gun wielding equine stomped over to where Daric was standing.

“Well it seems as if your…backwoods upbringing might be of help after all.” The smile Harvey gave him made Daric think he’d soon wish the estate owner had just shot him instead.

Daric was allowed to bid farewell to his family, promising them that he would send funds for them every month to make sure they didn’t go hungry. He was then shipped off to New York where he met Harvey’s business partner, Santiago Valencia. Who explained to him exactly what he would be doing on the plot of land about an hour outside of New York City. While it would seem that all he and the small group of his ‘co-workers’ were doing was trying to start up an apple orchid for cider in reality they were just a processing plant for the narcotics Santiago had brought up from Columbia. It was hard work and awfully immoral, Daric usually stayed up till the wee hours of the morning mulling over the integrity of his ‘job’. It ate Daric up inside and gnawed at his psyche until he became a recluse, he often went days without saying so much as a word to anyone else and when he did speak it was with a hollow, haunting tone. Yes, Daric was in quite a state when a certain albino Siberian tiger marched upon the premises.

Daric’s first impression of Yury was mixed. He could tell by the looks of him that he was a gangster, and not those puffed up posers like the ones in NYC. Yury was the real deal, sent to America to try and bring the straying Russian mafia back to its brutal roots. But there was something in his presence that told Daric that he was an individual, not just some part in the machine. He had morals and standards he lived by (though they might not be the same morals and standards of society), Daric could tell that there were things he would and would not do. So when Yury gave him the option to help out in a new gin joint in town Daric only slightly hesitated in leaving this miserable life behind.

So that’s how Daric found himself as the maitre d' of The Striped Tiger, mostly watching out for the girls and making sure the unruly drunks were removed from the place. He was friendly and cordial and after years of working at the speakeasy he had slowly reverted back to his old self. Though a large part of him was left at Santiago’s ‘apple orchid’ he’s in a much better place than he was a while ago. There are some days where he misses his rowdy family terribly and while the letters his mother sends are comforting he still worries about them from time to time.

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Wow I've been neglecting updating this post. :O I always update over on FP but not on here, whoops.

Theme 11: Trouble Lurking

The sputtered sounds that left the clouded leopard echoed off the dank alley walls. The growl that rumbled out of her assailant as he squeezed the dancer’s windpipe shut barely reached her ears. With another feeble gasp she felt her vision going fuzzy, the last thing she saw before the darkness engulfed her was the wicked sneer of the brute as he gave her a violent shake.

“Look darlin’ if I tell you a duck can pull a truck then shut up, and hook the sucker up!” Daric grouched as he threw his worn hat on the ground in frustration.

“Dee you know I don’t understand your…charming little southern colloquialisms so please, in plain English: Why can’t I down to the pawn shop off 3rd street?” Jezebel fussed with the slightly crooked bun on the top of her head as she waited none too patiently for the answer.

“Beverly, now trust me, I know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. That place ain’t fit fer a lady of yer caliber.” Daric went back to unloading the newest shipment of booze and Jez inched towards the door.

“Yes, well I so appreciate your concern Dee but I really need to find some new jewelry and Evelyn said they’ve got some quality pieces.” She continued to shuffle towards the exit, hoping the equine wouldn’t notice. He let out a long sigh before pausing in his work to adjust the grip he had on the wooden crate.

“Look, hows about I escort you to the shop after I finish up here?” He glanced over his shoulder at the nonplussed look Beverly shot him.

“I guess so,” She caved after a long pause, “Thanks a bunch Dee, you’re a swell guy.” She blew a kiss in his direction before walking back inside the grand hall of the Spiked Tiger. Beverly stopped to look one last time at the bouncer before making a beeline for the main entrance. There was no reason for the Appaloosa to accompany her to the pawn shop, after all there was no way he could find out exactly what her visit was for. She stuck her manicured hand into her beaded purse and palmed one of the smooth gems at the bottom of the bag. With another glance around the room to make sure no one was watching her she sntched up her Claudie cloche hat, pulling it over her honey brown locks, before barging through the door into the chilly afternoon air.

She hailed a buggy and muttered the address to the driver who shot her an incredulous look before shrugging and pulling away from the curb. The ride across town only took about 20 mins in the late afternoon traffic. Beverly exited the car after handing a handful of bills to the driver. She flipped up the collar of her long coat as she weaved around sketchy characters and loitering thugs, making sure to avoid eye contact. Beverly started to wish she had heeded Dee’s warning as she passed a leering doberman who whistled at her. Lucky for her it wasn’t long before she reached the pawn shop. The bell above the door jingled a welcome as she entered signaling a stout warthog to emerge from the backroom. He was dressed sharply in well fitted pants with suspenders stretched over a pale blue striped button up shirt that strained against his round belly. He gave the leopard a warm smile as she approached the counter, her nerves settling slightly at the kind face of the store owner.

“Welcome to Paulie’s Pawn Shop! I’m Paulie, how might I help you today ma’am? Buying or selling?” He removed the monocle from his left eye and cleaned the lense before replacing it.

“Selling.” Beverly replied with a small smile of her own. She placed her purse on the counter before turning it over, the contents spilling out before them. The warthog let out a soft snort of surprise at the handful of precious gems that lay before him. He shot the leopard a look of suspicion as he reached under the counter for the loupe. Paulie examined the jewels one after the other, his greed become more and more apparent with each jewel he inspected. Once he had finished he looked up at Beverly once more.

“Might I ask where you obtained such fine specimens?” Paulie asked looking her up and down.

“No, you may not,” Beverly gave him a coy smile and batted her eyelashes. She placed a hand on the counter and leaned forward, pleased when she noticed Paulie subconsciously do the same. “So how much do you think I could get for them?”

“Well these are very high quality pieces, I’ll be honest, you’ll probably get much more for them if you went to a proper jeweler.” The suspicion in Paulie’s voice and demeanor grew every second as he continued to examine the leopard in front of him.

Just my luck, I went to the one honest pawnbroker in the city of New York. Beverly looked off to the side as she considered her options. She really didn’t need anyone digging into where she acquired the gems but she also didn’t want to keep them on her person for any longer than absolutely necessary. The sooner she could dump the off on someone the better. Bev reached for the stones but before she could grab them the warthog snatched them back up.

“Now, now I didn’t say I wouldn’t buy them, I just wanted to make sure you knew you had options.” He smiled at her, his tusks giving it a sinister twist.

“Well I just need to get rid of them.” Beverly offered honestly. Paulie nodded and he told her to wait while he appraised them. The leopard took the time to take a glance around the store, admiring some of the jewelry that was on display. She briefly thought about buying a rather gaudy fringe necklace imagining everyone’s surprise when she strutted around stage in only that and a pair of heels. She was chuckling to herself when Paulie returned with a slip of paper in his hands. Beverly accepted the offered paper and her eyes widened when she read the amount on the check.

“Is that acceptable?” Paulie asked as he slipped his thumbs under his suspenders, though he already knew the answer to the question.

“I’ll say.” Beverly stuffed the check into her purse and turned to leave. As she exited the shop she glanced around, a bit more paranoid now that she had a fat check in her purse. She hustled to the bend of the block, her ears twitching when she heard the faint noise of footsteps quickly approaching. She only had time to let out a squeal as she was grabbed and dragged into a dirty alleyway.

When Beverly came too she was draped across a rather plush lounge chaise. She groaned as she glanced around the lavishly decorated-and very unfamiliar- room. Her hand flew up to her sore throat and she rubbed the place where her attacker’s hand had been. Beverly sat up slowly rolling her stiff shoulders, she shot up when one of the double door to the room opened up to reveal a familiar face.

“Ike?!”

“Thank god, Bev I thought you’d never wake up.” He rushed over and captured her in a tight hug, burying his face into her bruised neck.

“What happened? Where am I? I’m just all balled up.” She pulled back and looked into his deep blue eyes, worry clouding them before a flash of anger lit them up.

“You’re damn lucky Dee noticed you left without him and I went after you! What were you thinking?! A ritzy broad like you wandering around the wrong side of town, hell even I don’t go there alone. What were you thinking?! That oaf could have killed you!” Ike resisted the urge to shake his friend as she avoided his heated gaze, a sheepish look on her face.

“Pipe down! It’s not like I was trying to get into trouble.” Beverly muttered, fighting back tears.

“Yeah well trouble has a funny way of seekin’ you out.” He growled, pulling Beverly in for another hug. Beverly missed the fear flash in his eyes as he thought about the close call.

“You’re telling me,” She sighed before glancing around the room, trying to locate her personal effects. “Did that thug get my purse?”

“No he didn’t, meno male*.” He walked over to the lowboy that was in the corner of the room and grabbed the small purse that was set on top of it. He handed it over to Beverly who opened it to see if the check was still there. She huffed a sigh of relief when she saw it was.

“I sure hope it was worth it Bevs.” Ike grumbled earning him a pointed glare from the leopard.

“Oh, stuff it.” Beverly hissed at him as he nudged her in the direction of the door.
The two of them exited the room and Beverly paused to admire the grandiose foyer, Ike had to drag her out and into the waiting car. As the drove away from the magnificent mansion Beverly turned in her seat to gawk.

“Say Ike, whose house did you say that was?” She asked realizing he never answered her earlier inquiry.

“A friend’s. Don’t worry about it.” He turned her around to face forward as he gave the driver directions to his apartment complex.

Beverly wanted to press him about it but decided against it, she was already in hot water and would get an earful from Dee and probably Evelyn once she returned to work tomorrow. She absentmindedly rubbed at her contused neck as she thought about the close call.

------------------------


Something tells me this isn't the end of Beverly's 'close calls'. She sure is lucky that Ike showed up, though I wonder who's house that was. Must be some friend to let a perfect stranger recover in his (or her) abode.

*: Thank, goodness

Theme 12: Horror

The ear splitting scream that tore through the Spiked Tiger had patrons and employees alike dashing to the aid of the victim. Unfortunately they were too late to save the actual victim of the horrendous crime. The scream had come from Tanya, one of the newer dancers at the speakeasy. She had discovered the bloodied body of the poor fellow outside the back entrance of the club, having stepped out for a quick smoke. Now the manager of the club rubbed his chin in thought as he decided his next move. They surely couldn’t call the cops, at that would result in the dismemberment of the Spiked Tiger on the grounds of the hundreds of liters of illegal hooch they had in the store room. He glanced at the maitre d of the place for guidance.

“Alright everyone, go back to yer activities. This is obviously some scare tactic carried out by a competitor.” Dee ushered everyone back to the main area of the club. He turned back to face the concerned elk.

“Think we could just dump him?” Ike asked as he circled the mangled corpse.

“It’ll be better than trying to get creative. That could come back on us.” Dee made a move towards the corpse, getting in position to help Ike lift it. Ike hooked his arms under the dead doberman’s armpits and lifted, Dee grabbing the ankles and doing the same.

“Ah, merda! Che palle*!” Ike went on a tirade as he dropped the body like it was on fire. He backed away, brushing off any remnants of the dead doberman that might have lingered. Dee went after him in confusion, trying to get an answer for his odd reaction.

“Woah, cool yer heels there. What’s with all that hullabaloo back there?” Dee grabbed Ike by the shoulders and spun him around, a bit taken aback by the frantic look in his eyes.

“Do you know who that is?! Huh?” Ike waited a beat for Dee to respond, when he didn’t he continued on, “That’s the capo bastone, of the Russian mob. The second in command! Santo cazzo Madre di Cristo**, I’m a dead man.” Ike paced back and forth as he eyed the dead mobster. Dee backed up a few steps and decided to let him work things out before approaching again.

“Just, take a breath. If you don’t relax yer gonna have an aneurysm.” Dee reached for Ike to stop him from pacing but jumped back as the ekd fell to his knees and threw his hands towards the sky.

“Death would be a gift at this moment! Oh please God, take me now and spare me the pain!” Ike wailed as he balled his fists and battered the sides of his head.

“Dramatic. The whole lot of ‘em” Dee shook his head at the theatrics that was a trademark of the Martinelli clan. He hauled Ike up and gave him a hard slap across his cheek. Ike went silent and hung his head.

“Thank you. I needed that.” He whispered as he composed himself. Ike gazed at the ground for a bit before brushing past Dee. “I’ve got a call to make.”

Dee looked after Ike for a few seconds before looking down at the body. He heaved a sigh before following after Ike. “I don’t get paid enough fer this.” He whispered to himself. Upon re-entering the Spiked Tiger Dee was bombarded with questions from the nosiest employee.

“Not now Evelyn.” He grumbled as he felt the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes.

“Ah mon petit bourick, come on now. What’s the word? Who’s dat man dere? Dit mon la verite'***!” She nudged Dee and followed after him.

“Dun worry yer pretty little head ‘bout it.” He gently pushed her back in the direction of the tables and booths in hopes she would go back to tending to the guests. No dice. Evelyn was going to nag him until she got what she wanted out of him.

“Don’ be shy now, I’ll go motier foux**** if you don’ tell me. Deeeeeee” She sided up to him and traced a polished nail across his shoulders as she dragged out his name.

“I’m not sure but Ike said it was the second in command of the Russian mob.” He whispered, noticing how Evelyn’s rounded ears twitched in interest at the bit of juicy information. Satisfied with the answer the polecat raised up on the balls of her feet to plant a thank you kiss on the horse’s cheek. Dee rolled his eyes before shooting her a beamused look and heading back to his station at the front entrance of the club. Loaded down with the succulent piece of gossip Evelyn just had to unload it onto someone else. She sauntered back into the dressing room where her best friends Beverly and Tanya sat waiting for a report.

“Well? What’s the skinny?” Tanya asked, around the nail she was gnawing on to sooth her frayed nerves.

“I wish you’d stop dat,” Evelyn hissed at her as she went to sit between the two, “Well Dee said it’s some hot shot from de Russian mob!” Evelyn’s pleased look only intensified when she heard the surprised squeak that left Tayna’s mouth. Beverly on the other hand was wide eyed and her breaths came in pants. Evelyn exchanged a glance with Tanya before placing an arm around the panicked leopard.

“What’s wrong, beb? What’s got dis pretty bouche makin’ a bahbin?” She gave her friend a squeeze.
“I knew that fella.” Beverly blinked back tears of fear as her two friends expressed their surprise.

“What’cu mean, peekon?” Evelyn asked in a hushed tone.

“That-that was the guy who attacked me the other day.” Beverly said in a small voice.

“You sure?” Tanya urged, as she worriedly walked over to Beverly’s other side to offer comfort.

“Of course I’m sure! You think I’d forget the face of the man who almost killed me?!” Beverly was bordering on hysterical now. “Why did the second in command of the Russian mafia try to kill me?!”

Neither Tanya nor Evelyn had an answer to that loaded question. The trio was beginning to piece together a rather frightening scenario to explain the not-so-random attack on Beverly a couple nights ago. And it looked as if another dear friend of their was in the middle of it as well, the only person in the Spiked Tiger who had a direct connection to the mafia was Isaac Martinelli. As the realization dawned on Beverly a slow building rage bubbled inside of her. Ike reckless behavior had now put her in more danger than she was before. Now the Russian mob would think that the murder of their underboss was a message from the clouded leopard and her cohort. She quickly rose and stalked out of the room, Tanya and Evelyn close behind. Once she located Ike in his office on the second floor of the building on the left side of the hidden speakeasy she barged in, oblivious to the fact that he was in the middle of a phone call.

“-hell if I know! This can’t be good. It’s obviously a-” His conversation was cut short as he took note of the three females in the room. “Gotta go. Bye.” He slammed the phone back on the hook and glared at the intruders.

“What do you stooges want?” He spat at them as he rummaged around in one of the drawers of the old desk.

“Ike, just what is going on in that tiny brain of yours, huh?” Beverly snarled at him.

“Look Bev, I ain’t got time for your tirades, whatever it is it’ll have to wait.” He slamed the drawer shut in frustration at not finding what he was looking for within it. He brushed past the dancers as he made his way back to the Spiked Tiger, the three of them right on his tail.

“Like hell it will.” She reached for Ike’s arm and let out a shout as he wrenched it away and kept walking. As they entered the packed club Ike made a beeline straight for the bar, motioning for the bartender to get him a drink. He turned to face Beverly who had caught up with him and looked as if she had no intention of leaving him alone.
“This chick,” He muttered to himself an squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to keep calm. Beverly’s eyes flashed as she stepped forward, sticking a finger in his face.

“What did you say? Oh boy Ike you are asking for it! You have some nerve to talk to me like that after what you’ve done!” She shrieked.

“What is this dame talking about?” He asked Tanya and Evelyn, pointedly ignoring Beverly. A silence fell over the club as the sound of Ike getting slapped for the second time that night echoed in the cavernous room. All eyes were on the pair fuming by the bar. Beverly saw a Ike’s eyes darken in fury as a trickle of blood traveled down his cheek and barely had enough time to dodge the glass that went whizzing by her head, flinching when it shattered against the side of a table a few feet behind her. Before she could react Ike had a death grip on her arm, pulling her back with a snarl, she tripped over her feet as he yanked her face close to his.

“You must be out of your everloving mind.” The timbre of his voice was sinister and it sent a wave of fear through Beverly. She had never seen this side of Ike and she wasn’t sure how to react. Though she was afraid she was still hopping mad about what Ike had done.

“I know what you did, Ike. You killed that man.” She whispered, her voice tinted with pain as Ike’s grip on her arm tightened. She was sure if he squeeze more he’d break it.

“What gave you that idea?” He asked incredulously.

“Oh don’t play dumb Isaac. I know that dead guy is the one who attacked me in the alleyway.” Beverly watched as his eyes widened and she mistook it for surprise that she was able to figure it out.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Bev. I didn’t kill that punk and don’t you go around telling folks I did.” He shook her for emphasis. Beverly tried to wiggle out of his grasp but her efforts were in vain.

“Curse you Isaac Martinelli! You’re going to get us all killed with your stupidity!” Beverly wailed as she attempted to push him away.

“You know what, you ain’t worth it. I should have listened to my brother. I shouldn’t have put my neck on the line for some dame, especially not some cheap hoofer.” He scoffed to himself, ignoring the hurt that surfaced in Beverly’s eyes at the insult. Her face contorted in anger as she spit in his face. Before Ike could fully process what happened he backhanded the fuming leopard. The smack sent her tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain, Tanya and Evelyn roused from their state of shock and rushed to the aid of their friend.

“Bev, I...I” That was all he could manage before he glanced around the room at the faces filled with an array of emotions. From disgust to shock to fear, a few patrons even had a look of approval on their faces. Ike brushed past the small crowd that had gathered and rushed out of the club into the cool night air. Without so much as a glance back he took off into the night a voice in the back of his head screaming at him, scolding him for his deplorable actions. He ran, his legs taking him to the only safe place he had.
------------------------

Who knew Ike had such a temper? :0 I'm sad to say this has started a rather dark era for our band of misfits and don't count on Ike and Beverly making up anytime soon.

Writing the end(???) of the Beverly/Ike alliance nearly killed me, I ship them so hard. HOW WILL THEY EVER FIX THIS?! X3

*: Rough Translation- Ah, shit! What a pain in the ass!

**: Translation- More swears. X3

***: Rough Translation- My little bellybutton (cutesy pet name), come on now? What's the word? Who's that man there? Tell the truth!

****: Rough Translation- Half crazy

Theme 13: Heal

“Wow, he really gave you a wallop.” Tanya muttered as she poked and prodded the dark bruise under her friend’s eye. She ceased her prying once Beverly gave a quiet whimper.

“What a putz.” Beverly mumbled as she examined herself in the mirror.

It was after hours at the Spiked Tiger, the crowd dispersing after the altercation. Daric had run off after Ike, hoping that the foolish cervine wouldn’t do anything rash. Beverly’s fellow dancers helped her up and cleaned her off, quickly putting a cloth with ice on the rapidly swelling mark under her eye. Beverly had cried silently while the girls tended to her, shocked that Isaac would do such an unforgivable thing. She had just finished cursing the elk yet again when a large figure appeared in the doorway of the dressing room.

“Where is he?” The question was followed by a deep snarl as the large achromatic tiger barged into the room. He gently grabbed Beverly shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes widened in anger and surprise and he turned to leave the room with a growl.

“No! Yury, don’t! It’s my fault, I hit him first.” She grabbed Yury’s arm and attempted to pull him back to her vanity.

“Now dun you go defendin’ than bon rein,” Evelyn scolded as she wagged a finger at the bruised leopard, “He had no right to lay a hand on you. He was actin’ bracque, like some couyon put under a gree gree! Someone needs-ta set him stright.*”

“Evelyn, enough! Look no one’s going to go after Ike except me.” She gave everyone in the room the eye, making sure they knew she was serious. With that she grabbed her coat and left the room.

“Them two are toxic for each otta.” Evelyn shook her head in disbelief.

“Oh yah, It’s like riding a carousel with those two. Always up then down then back up again. Though I’ve gotta say I’ve never seen a fight quite like that one…” Tanya trailed off as she thought back to the frightening look in Ike’s eyes.

“Well, there is nothing we can do now. Why don’t you ladies head home, Daric and I will finish cleaning up.” Yury gave the dancers a tired smile as they nodded and left. He followed them out of the dressing room and watched them leave. His pale violet eyes roamed around the cavernous room and he gave a long sigh. Of all the things he needed right now a bit rift between his employees wasn’t one of them. If Sapo got wind of this he’d try and use it to his advantage.

------------------------------------

“Just, don’t tell Ma okay, Levi.” A sullen looking Ike stared into his lukewarm coffee as he pleaded with the other presence in the room.

“Don’t tell me what?” A short and frazzled looking elk waltzed into the room, pausing to take in the gloomy scene before her.

“M-Ma!” Ike straightened up and gave his mother a nervous smile.

“Ikki slugged a girl.” Levi offered up with a smug look on his face.

“Lee!” Isaac barely had enough time to curse his brother before his mother descended on him.

“Che schifo! How could you? A son of mine, strike a woman? Bischero! Bischero! Bischero!**” Every word was delivered with a harsh blow from the wooden spoon in her hand.

“Ma, please! I didn’t mean to! Please!” Ike tried to shield himself from the flailing arms of his mother. He was saved only when his mother stopped at the sound of her other son howling with laughter.

“And you! You little boccalone**! I didn’t raise no rat!” She turned her attention to Levi and dealt a few whacks. His laughter was replaced with shouts of pain. After she had thoroughly clobbered her sons she turned to Isaac.

“Why? Why would you do such a thing?” She asked him, her voice filled with shock. “I taught you better than that!” Her voice broke as tears formed and threatened to spill over. With one final cuff across the head she left the room to compose herself. Ike turned to glare at his brother who was rubbing his shoulder.

“Man, I told you that broad was trouble.” Levi grumbled as he returned Isaac’s glare full force.

“Chiudi il culo.” Isaac flipped him the bird as he took a sip from the, now cold, coffee.

“Don’t tell me to shut up, I’m serious! I told you from the moment I saw that dame that she would be the end of you. Leave it to you to go chasing after any skirt that looks your way.” He huffed as Ike waved him off, the blasé gesture only fueling his anger.

“It’s not like that Levi.” Ike made a vain attempt to convince his brother that his feelings for the ecdysiast were purely platonic.

“Like hell, look Ike you know Uncle Sal’s had an eye on her, and now you say she’s gotten mixed up in the Russian mob. She’s bad news little bro, and I don’t want you to become collateral damage. Listen to me, if you value your life you’ll stay as far away from her as possible. You left the family because you didn’t want to end up in a body bag but if you don’t leave this floozy alone you’ll be six feet under.” Levi finished his spiel with a stern look. Isaac bristled at the insult launched at his friend and he crossed his arms.

“She ain’t no floozy. Bev’s a high class gal-”

“Oh yea? Then what’s she doing shedding her skin at a gin joint?” Levi interrupted with a sneer.

“Look, she’s just some rich kid who hit some hard times. She’s really has no business dealing with the mafia, which is why this makes no sense.” Ike leaned back in his chair feeling the beginnings of a migraine prickling behind his eyes. Levi’s eyes softened and he clapped a hand on Ike’s shoulder.

“Jeez, Ikki. You’ve got it bad. I’ve never seen you like this over some doll. She must be a good hit.” Levi threw his hands up in surrender as Ike rocketed from his seat poised to throw a punch.

“I’m only joshin’ with ya, I don’t want no fistycuffs.” Levi’s teasing was interrupted when a sharp rap reached their ears. Figuring it was one of their father’s ‘business associates’ they continued their horseplay in the kitchen.


Mrs. Martinelli rushed to answer the door, her greeting cut short when she saw a curvy feline bundled up against the cold looking back at her.

“Mrs. Martinelli? I’m Beverly Collins, I was wondering if Isaac was here?” Her voice was barely above a whisper and she shivered slightly.

“Oh, yes of course! Ikki talks about you all the time! Come in darling, you must be cold. And please, call me Abri!” She ushered the leopard into the house and lead her to the living area. “Isaac, you have company!” She offered to take Beverly’s coat as they waited for Isaac.

Ike slowly entered the room, followed closely by a curious Levi. Once he caught sight of Beverly he stopped cold, it was then that Mrs. Martinelli noticed the angry bruise under Beverly’s eye and realization dawned on her. She screeched as she smacked Isaac a few more times, she then turned to Beverly and took her face in her hands.

“Please forgive the actions of my stupid son! I raised him better than this, he knows the proper way to treat women. I don’t understand why he would do such an unforgivable thing!” Beverly tried to console the borderline hysterical matriarch as she fussed over her. After Mrs. Martinelli had calmed down a bit she decided Beverly could do with a good meal and set off to make her some spaghetti, leaving the feline alone with the two brothers. Levi looked the dancer up and down before letting out a low whistle.
“Ike wasn’t kiddin’ when he said you were a knockout. I’m Levi.” He dodged the punch his brother threw his way and stepped forward to offer his hand. Beverly blushed as she took it, finding a familiarity in the strength and warmth she felt.

“Ignore him, he’s adopted.” Ike joked as he took Beverly over to the couch and sat her down. Levi decided to take his leave and give the two some privacy. Ike took Beverly’s face in his hands, brushing a thumb against the darkening brusie. Beverly turned away and shrugged.

“Ah, this is nothin’ you should see the other guy.” She gave a halfhearted smile as she wrung her hands in her lap. Beverly was never a fan of apologizing, finding it to be an awkward experience. She much preferred to just skip all the uncomfortableness and go back to the mended friendship.

“Yury’s looking for you.” She muttered not sure how to approach the elephant in the room.

“Great, he’ll take me for a ride for sure.” Isaac groaned.

“Nah, I told him to go easy on you.” Beverly smiled at him wistfully, grateful for his sense of humor.

“I don’t deserve it,” Ike reached for Beverly’s hand and she didn’t protest when he took it, “Bevs, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

“No, no I’m sorry Ike. I shouldn’t have accused you of murder without any proof.” Beverly looked away, ashamed at her actions.

“Well, based on my track record you had every right to jump to that conclusion. I had no right to hit you, I was just so jazzed about the whole Russian mafia thing.”

“If I had been thinking straight I would have remembered that there was no way you could have killed that fella, you were with me the night before and then at the club till it opened today.” She still couldn’t find the courage to look at Isaac.

“Well you were in a tizzy just like I was. We acted like a couple of saps.” He chuckled as he thought about the scene they had caused a few hours earlier.

“I’m so embarrassed at the way I acted. My goodness if my mother heard I had spit on someone she’d have a fit.” Beverly buried her face in her hands as she sighed. It was then that Mrs. Martinelli announced that she had finished cooking and they should come into the kitchen to eat. As Isaac offered a hand to Beverly and lead her into the kitchen he knew they would be okay.

------------------------

Hehe okay I know I said that the Beverly/Ike alliance wouldn't be mended for a long time but who am I kidding? We all knew they couldn't be angry for long, they always kiss and make up! Also I realized if they sated angry at each other it would only complicate things for this next bit, our band of buddies need to stick together.

Also we now know where Isaac gets his dramatic flair from. I would not want to encounter Mrs. Martinelli and her wooden spoon of death in a dark alley.

*Rough Translation: "Now don't you go defending that good for nothing. He had no right to lay a hand on you. He was acting crazy, like a fool put under a spell."

**Che schifo: How awful!/How disgusting, Bischero: Jerk, Boccalone: Big mouth

Chiudi il culo is a very rude way of saying 'Shut up'

Isaac's family calls him Ikki (pronounced Icky) because when he was younger he couldn't pronounce his name so he called himself 'Ikki'. Also for those of you nastehs out there, Ike was staying with Beverly the night before because she was afraid that she would be attacked again. Get your heads out of the gutter, they are just friends...for now...

Theme 14: Out Cold

Note: Okay so the beginning of this bit is a bit raunchy so I've omitted it from this post. If you are interested in reading it you can go here to the google doc to read it. But basically Bev and Ike catch Shark and Tanya in a veeeery compromising position...


......Beverly and Ike waited another minute or two before the braver of the two stepped forward and rapped on the door.

“All clear!” Came the breathy reply. Beverly and Ike hesitantly re-entered the room, praying that the scene they encountered earlier had shifted into something more tame. To their relief they found Shark and Tanya mostly covered and cuddling on the couch they had just christened. Shark looking quite content with a smug grin as he gave Tanya a small squeeze.

“Tanya, a word please.” The strained request had a concerned look washing over Tanya’s face as she extracted herself from Shark’s grasp and followed Beverly to the kitchen.

“Yea? What is is Bev, you don’t look so hot.” Tanya’s kind words and sweet Minnesota accent clashed with the compromising scene she had witnessed moments before.

“Geez Tanya, I wonder why that is?” The sarcasm was dripping from Beverly’s voice, “ This is the third guy this week you’ve brought home.”

“Ah yea, well I’m real sorry ‘bout that Bev. I meant to warn you but Shark and I got a little carried away and...well...yea.” Tanya trailed off with a wistful smile on her face. She decided to leave out the fact that it had actually been the same guy but she decided that conversation was for another time. Beverly regarded the promiscuous coyote and let out a sigh before continuing.

“Tanya, I don’t mean to judge but don’t you think you are being a bit of a….floozy? I mean it’s great to have fun and all but Anya, you gotta admit you get around.” Beverly had a look of concern on her face though her words stung Tanya. Her face scrunched up in distaste as she huffed indignantly.

“Oh please, my...exploits may sound exorbitant to a prude like you but I assure you I’m far from a ‘floozy’.” Tanya uncharacteristically lashed out at Beverly, who was taken aback by her harsh words. She bristled as well and wagged a finger in her friend’s face.

“Well of course I’m a prude by your standards. Goodness if we were going by your ‘norm’ even Savannah* would be a prude.” Beverly regretted the words almost as soon as she said it but she was so mad she chose not to revoke her statement just yet.

“You know what? I’m a normal red blooded American who enjoys a good romp every now and again. Who are you the judge me anyways? My mother?” At this point Tanya was yelling and the two fellas that were quietly conversing in the living room turned to look at the arguing roommates. They glanced at each other, each making the decision to leave the girls to their own devices.

“Well excuse me for worrying that my friend is going to attempt to sleep with every eligible guy above the Mason-Dixon line!” Beverly threw her hands up in exasperation.

“You’re just jealous because you don’t have any prospects!” Tanya clamped her hand over her mouth after the insult was thrown. Before she could apologize Beverly had snatched up her purse and rushed out the front door, Ike close on her heels. Tanya wandered back over to the couch and sat down on the edge, her face full of regret. Shark slid closer to her and wrapped an arm around her, Tanya leaned into the embrace.

“That was wicked harsh babe.” He nuzzled her neck to show her he meant no ill will.

“I’m aware. Gosh I didn’t mean to say that. It’s just I got so darn heated. I suppose I should apologize.” Tanya made to get up but Shark grabbed her wrist and tugged her back towards the couch.

“Maybe you two should cool off a bit longer, Ike’ll make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.” Shark tried to hide his smile as Tanya obliged and sank back down into the overstuffed couch.

“Hey, Bev! Bev!” Ike shouted after his friend as he exited the apartment building. He squinted, trying to see which way the leopard ran but couldn’t see much in the darkness. “Jeez that dame can run, how does she move so fast in those darned heels anyways?” He muttered to himself before his ears picked up the sound of those heels clicking against the pavement. He sprinted in the direction of the sound, yelling for Beverly to slow down.

“Go away Ike.” Beverly muttered as she stomped down the deserted sidewalk.

“Beverly, slow down! What’s the rush?” He was now half-jogging to keep up with the angry feline and again wondered how she moved so fast.
“I said. Go away.” Her voice broke and she furiously wiped at her eyes. A frustrated growl leaving her quivering lips.

“You’re not really taking what Tanya said to heart are ya?” Ike managed to grab Beverly’s hand and pulled her to a hault. “Look you know she didn’t mean it, she got upset and said the worst thing she could think of. True or not.”

“Well true or not it still hurts. I mean I know I’m no party girl but I like to think I’m a pretty fun gal.” Beverly fussed with her hat as she contemplated the truth in Tanya’s jab.

“Beverly Collins, you are the most lively Sheba** I know. How many dames do you know that shake it like you do on stage?” Ike gave her an encouraging smile. He was relieved when Beverly returned it with a small one of her own. He took that as a surrender and steered her back in the direction of the apartment complex. As the ascended the stairs Beverly went about regaining her composure. They entered the apartment, for the third time that night, unsure about what they would find behind it. Both were relieved when they saw a gloomy looking Tanya nestled up to Shark. She sprung up when Beverly entered letting out a stream of apologies.

“Bevvy, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean what I said, I was angry and upset. You know I think the world of you.” As Tanya started her apology Beverly did the same.

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were promiscuous, I was just worried about your safety.” There was a slight pause as both processed what the other said.

Then the pair engaged in a quick embrace, chuckling slightly at the silliness of it all. They squeezed onto the couch, making Shark slide over to make room as Ike sat in the recliner. As Beverly and Tanya chatted about club politics and idle gossip the guys took to talking about the generic small talk topics (sports, the weather, etc). Though it wasn’t long before an unpleasant noise interrupted the group, the awful grinding noise that came from the furnace drowned out their voices.

“Cavolo, what was that?” Ike was clutching at his heart for emphasis.

“It’s the furnace, it’s been doing that for the past week but the manager won’t do anything about it.” Tanya grumbled as she glared in the general direction of the noisy furnace.

“Hm, sounds like the exhaust is clogged. I could clear it out for you gals? It’s a quick fix.” Ike offered casually, surprised that his time fussing with the 100 year old heating system at his childhood home came in handy.

“Really? Oh Ike that’d be swell!” Beverly exclaimed, excited at the prospect of not having to sleep under a pile of blankets every night.
“Of course! Anything for my best doll.” Ike winked as he rose from his spot in the recliner. Tanya mirrored his movements, heading to the kitchen to grab a flashlight.

“The furnace is down in the basement, Beverly refuses to go down there so I’ll show you where it is.” Tanya explained as she returned to the living room with a small wave they were off, leaving Shark and Beverly alone. The clouded leopard eyed the lounging canine with distaste. Though Shark was technically a fellow co-worker he mostly dealt with outside interest, Beverly found the negotiator to be a bit crass and handsy. He had openly groped her on many occasions and was constantly making passes at her and the other dancers. While she usually respected Tanya’s judgement in partners she was puzzled as to what the coyote could possible see in Shark.

“Sooo-”

“Don’t. Let’s not force it.” Beverly quickly cut off the canine not wanting to engage in strained small talk, he shrugged in response. They said in stagnant silence until:

“She was right you know.” Shark mumbled under his breath, Bev almost didn’t catch it.

“Who? About what?” She sat up straight and turned towards Shark.

“Tanya, about you being a boring prude.”

“As if you’d know.” Beverly huffed and crossed her arm in defiance. The sneer that graced Shark’s face was unsettling.

“Well prove me wrong. What do you do for fun? After your stint at the club what do you do? Maybe stop for a cup of coffee at the local diner? I bet your idea of a wild night is drinking a glass of wine while reading a steamy romance novel. You’re a plain jane, Beverly. A bland broad who’s one bright spot is when she’s on stage showing her goods to a crowd of sleazy businessmen.” Shark paused to gauge Beverly’s reaction.

“Shut up, Shark. You’re just some fancy con man for hire.” The feline huffed and tried to control her boiling rage.

“You’re just upset because I’m right. Honestly Beverly, what are you doing here? Surely a gal of your caliber would never be caught dead dancing in a gin joint. You don’t belong here, you’re too good for the Spiked Tiger. But then again you obviously couldn’t manage in the well-to-do world. What a pitiful existence, too pretentious to hang with the proletarians but too lowbrow for the blue bloods.”

“God, you’re disgusting! Just barbaric.” The hushed whisper was all Beverly could manage before the door swung open again, revealing Tanya and a sooty Ike. Beverly swallowed down her fury, attempting to compose herself.

“All fixed!” Ike announced triumphantly, oblivious to the confrontation that just took place.

“Goodness Ike, you’re filthy! Don’t think you’re coming in here like that.” Beverly stood to push him back towards the threshold.

“I guess that’s my cue. G’night Tanya, Shark.” He waved to them as Beverly continued to push him out the door. Once Ike complied and headed back down the stairs she finally thanked him for his help.

“You really saved us from freezing tonight Ike.” She shot him a genuine smile despite the anger that still swirled in her chest. As they stepped back out onto the sidewalk she drew Ike into a tight hug.

“Alright Bev, I’m getting soot all over your fancy coat.” Ike chuckled as he pulled away. He gave her a peck on the cheek before stepping off the sidewalk into the dimly lit road.

“I’ll send you the cleaning bill.” Beverly joked, she giggled at the glare Ike tossed over his shoulder.

“You better n-” Ike’s mock threat was cut short as a speeding Ford Model T smashed into the elk, sending him crashing into the windshield. Beverly could only watch in horror as the vehicle was thrown into reverse, depositing a lifeless Ike onto the cold concrete. The driver wrenched the car back in drive and sped off, leaving a shell shocked Beverly and a badly injured Isaac.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

-super dramatic gasp- Who did this?! They must pay!

Looks like someone wants Ike out of the picture...did they succeed? Let's hope not!

Also we got to meet a new character in this story. Shark! He's the 'negotiator' for Yury. He usually spends his work hours chatting up police officials and rival club owners. Making sure they are satiated. And for those of you who were wondering, yes he is a man whor* and yes he's got it out for Beverly.