Post by Mikaela Holden on May 29, 2016 5:22:05 GMT
Location: The Dive, middle of the night
Characters: Mikaela Holden & Tomas Esteban
paradise and sin [9:37 P.M.]: Oh, oh this was a bad idea. Why the hell had she even thought this would be okay? Dumb. Just straight dumb. Beyond dumb. Tomas was going to have her freakin' ass. Sure, it'd been a nice thought in hindsight. Poor Ernesto had been there most of the night, alone in the bar. Go on, head home, she tells him, she'll keep watch. Unable to sleep anyway, and besides, the dude was trussed up like the pigs used for the Sunday roasts. What was he gonna do? There was a ton of prep work she could do. The Dive was down a cook since she'd fired the one who started that small fire and acted like it was an inferno and had the fucking FD here. She was gonna have to pay for that visit! There was a new marinade she wanted to try for the Mahi that she'd found on some website. So then, four am, and she'd alone in the kitchen; humming to herself and mixing spices and fruit zests and oil and it was time for the fish. That's when it all went to shit. Complete and total shit. So now, four fifteen am, and she was seated on the floor of he kitchen with her back against the freezer door, and a bloody towel held up to her temple and an even bloodier prep knife clutched in her hand. Six minutes ago she'd called Tomas, leaving him a frantic voice mail that he had to get to the Dive, NOW. The pin that locked the freezer was streaked in blood, but she'd managed to slip it in to latch the thing -- but it didn't stop the dude inside from kicking at the door now; dull thuds and one or twice he'd managed to kick hard enough that she was jerked forward a little. "C'mon, you fucker, call me back." He phone was face up on the floor, in reach should she need to grab it if it rang. Dumbshit was still in her jammies too; little cotton shorts covered in pastel fucking cupcakes with smiley faces, and a tank top that was older than dirt -- it'd probably one been purple, but now it was a lil' purpleish gray, and had been cropped years ago to end somewhere mid-ribs. Perfect attire for such a situation, complete with teal flip flops and a fucking high set messy ponytail. Secured with a lemon yellow scrunchie. Mhm. Hot. -d-
in walks death [9:51 P.M.]: Ten minutes. Ten minutes makes the difference between life and death. One little swipe of the snooze alarm was the difference between Mikaela working on cooking her fish and a health inspection violation. Ten. Fucking. Minutes. See, unbeknownst to Mikaela, after Tomas had left the dive somewhere around 11:30, midnight, he had since stopped back by once to check in on Tomas, make sure the asshole wasn't freezing to death -- because that would do nobody any good -- and then told Ernesto he'd be back in a few hours. Business to attend to, as it were. What he was attending to didn't much matter, right now, did it? His phone had been wedged awkwardly between the seats and he didn't realize it was ringing until after the call went to voicemail. He blinked, listened to the voicemail and then cursed so harsh a nun somewhere probably got the vapors. He didn't bother calling back -- should have, but didn't -- he was driving from where he was with the intention of running home then back to the Dive, but that wasn't going to happen, apparently. The Puerto Rican hopped out of his truck near the back door, where he had been parked earlier, and growled in irritation when he didn't see Ernesto's work truck anymore. Somebody was going to fucking have hell to pay. So by 4:20 in the morning, Tomas was running in through the back of the dive. "Mikaela!?" Her name coming out in the way of a shout when he stumbled to a hault near the bar, swung his gaze around and started back for the kitchen. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... the man all but stumbled, stopped and stared at the leggy blonde. "What the fuck happened?!" Was he pissed? Yeah, he was pissed. " Where the fuck is Morales!?" Are you okay, Mikaela? Yeah, that's not the question he was asking when he rushed over to pull her off the floor and up to her feet.
paradise and sin [10:01 P.M.]: Thud! Thud! Thud! That last one pushed her forward from the impact from the inside, and her lashes closed tightly and her grip tightened too, on that knife. "I WILL STAB YOU AGAIN," she could only hope that the hoarse yell was enough to reach through the thick door. For the life of her, she couldn't remember now if you could hear things in the kitchen when you were in the freezer, or was it just the whirr of it that took over all sound? She was, however, responded to with another dull thud as feet hit the inner door. "C'monc'monc'mon," dropping her hold on the towel she had pressed to her freaking face so that it fell into her lap, Kae was just reaching for her phone again when Tomas' shouted her name. It was uncertain that before this moment she actually knew what true relief felt like. But this was it. "In here," she croaked out, but who knew if he actually heard her -- didn't matter though, because there he was. The knife fell from her hand, like she'd had no right to even be holding it in the first place. Clattering to the floor, as Tomas bum rushed her and hoisted her to her feet. There was a cut just above her brow; slightly swelling around the leaking thing -- though it wasn't too bad that she'd need stitches. Just a head wound that bled too much, and more of it already dripping down her face. "I sent him home!" That much was going to be an important stresser. No need in Ernesto getting in trouble for something Kae had instigated. "He was tired, it was late! I can watch a door!" Clearly. ".... I can't watch a door," the words almost came out in a whine, and she shot a look to the door, where the thudding was happening in overtime. "I don't know how he got loose. He's still tied up, but like .. was on his feet when I opened the door to get my Mahi. I thought I'd just slip in there, get it, and go, and he'd just be sleeping or something!" Uh huh. Sleeping. In a freezer. -d-
in walks death [10:12 P.M.]: She sent him home? "Why the -- why would you do that?!" His hands were hard on her shoulders and, to be honest, the man shook her a little bit. A very large part of him wanted to belt her across the face. Who the fuck -- WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT!? He wouldn't even do that! He listened to her stammer through her explanation, Ernesto was tired -- yeah, so was he, it showed around his eyes, the normally darker olive complexion in his eye sockets was heavier with a shadow than normal -- all he wanted to do catch a quick power nap before he came back to ask this guy some questions -- if she was observant, the man had had a shower, but was still in the same blood-stained clothes he was wearing when he had left earlier that evening. She might be too distraught to notice though, but his hair was still mostly damp and slicked away from his face. I can watch a door!! She tells him, and Tomas's brows shot upwards. "No, you can't watch a door," He agreed with her, and when he released her, it was hard, shoving the woman back against the door in question. He rocked back onto his heels, both hands raking through the slicked down black hair. She didn't know how he got loose. Tomas whipped back around on her and pointed at the door at her back. "He was tied up with cargo straps!!" His voice sharp and loud. "I didn't exactly put him in prison chains, Mikaela!" All it would take was some solid finagling of the man's feet, and he could slip out of that hold, it wasn't as secure as the one around his mouth and hands. He rocked away again and cursed, a fervent, "God damnit," Snapping from his lips. Obviously the man was alive on the other side, so at least Tomas had THAT going for him. The man sucked in a breath of air, in through his nose and out past his lips before he turned back to regard Mikaela with as stony an expression as he could muster, but it was still on the verge of boiling over again. "... so he hit you, then, or something, and you... " He waved a hand down at the knife. "Stabbed him then?"
paradise and sin [10:24 P.M.]: "BECAUSE I'M NICE," her voice was too loud, but that much wasn't registering right now. Ironic really, shouting at someone that you're nice, while they're shaking you in anger. The door was unforgiving when her shoulders and the curve of her skull hit the galvanized steel of it -- leaving her wincing, and her feature set into a grimace. How had she fucked this up so bad! Damn it, Mahi!! There was still some smarts left about her; keeping her back to the wall, and not moving at all while Tomas worked out his thoughts and shouted at her some more. Truthfully, she was braced for more than this. Braced for the heavy hand to crack across her face. He was anger, and this may have been the first it was aimed at her, and deservingly so. "I shouldn't have opened the door," she whispered; biting into her lower lip, and swallowing some. He wanted to know the rest, and she nodded. "I had the knife, to cut the fish in half .. Opened the door, and he was just standing there. Knocked me into the shelf hard. Hit my head on it. So I stuck." A hand came up, drifting to the exposure of her own collarbone, somewhere just south of it to indicate where she'd stabbed the man with the boning knife. It wasn't that long really, but a sharp thing -- made to go through bones. "He backed off, and I ran back out." The evidence of that was clear too -- the drops of blood on the floor to the prep counter, the smear of it where she'd obviously put a hand. "Then he started to push at the door from inside, so I pinned it and sat down and called
you." -d-
in walks death [10:35 P.M.]: "Oh GOOD FOR YOU!" He spat back at her, because it obviously wasn't good for anyone, irony not withstanding. The sound of her slamming against the door was a little bit satisfying, but it didn't really give him the same feelings of relief as a crack across the face would have. If she was anyone else, he would have, and it was clear that he was maintaining some restraint by the way his hands balled into fists and the contours of the musculature in his arms were tight and corded. Mikaela's little whisper of fucking logic there was met with Tomas whipping on her again. "You're God damn right you shouldn't have opened the door. You shouldn't even have been here." Sure, the Dive was hers, and he understood that, but he had given Ernesto STRICT instructions: nobody in or out of the freezer but him or Tomas, simple as that. He knew, though, that Ernesto had kind of a soft spot for Mikaela, he's not fucking blind, after all, but STILL. He listened to her explain what she had done, how it had happened, and Tomas moved back to her when she finished. SPAAANG went his hand on the door beside Mikaela's head, slamming his palm against the metal hard enough that it warped a little under his ire, though his voice lowered to something cold and quiet. "The next time I borrow your freezer, you just assume it no longer exists. I don't give a shit if the Queen of God Damn England is waiting for that Mahi. He could have gotten that knife from you and I could be walking in on a corpse. So next time, when I leave somebody to watch a door, leave it to the professionals to watch the door."
paradise and sin [10:44 P.M.]: These are the parts where she's supposed to act all cool and big bad, right? She's a girl, he won't hurt her! She's so pretty, she can do no wrong, it's all okay! Wrong! Tomas whipped back around to face her, and Mikaela visibly flinched; shrinking back against the door as if she could Homer fucking Simpson into it like it was a wall of grass. There was no way she was going to point out that owned the place, so technically she could be wherever she wanted. No fucking way. No, instead she just stared at him, speaking only when asked a direct question, and bled into her eyelashes on the right side there; her feet shifting a little when he came closer in maybe a little vain attempt to draw herself up taller along the wall. But his hand hit hard next to her face, and she turned it to the side; closing her eyes tight against the way his voice came clear and precise in such close proximity. Mikaela didn't realize that her hands came up; pushing first firmly into his chest, but rather than shove him away, they curled into the fabric of his blood stained shirt. Heart hammering frantically inside the chest that rose and fell in quick pants, Kae nodded in fast succession. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry -- I fucked up, I didn't think. I'm sorry." The thudding inside, well that had stopped -- how long ago, she wasn't sure, she was just noticing it and it clenched her fingers more so into his shirt, and turned now wide eyes back to Tomas, still so close. "Do you think he's dead in there?"
in walks death [10:57 P.M.]: Tomas Esteban was an equal opportunity hitter of people. He didn't care if you were a man or a woman, he'd hit you all the same. He might open-palm a woman instead of closed fist one, though, so you're welcome for that bitches, but other than that, he was pretty violent with everyone across the board. That being SAID, the only thing that saved Mikaela, probably, from another bruise was the fact that she was who she was... not to say that his throwing her back against the metal door probably wasn't going to sting for the next day or so, because he hadn't been gentle about that, either. She was afraid of him, and had every damn right to be. He watched her with those shark-like eyes while she shrunk away, kowtowed to his wrath-riddled instructions to her. Yeah, he's aware you own the Dive, Mikaela, but this was Network business, shoved in that freezer, and that overrode your stupid Mahi tuna. He listened to her rapid apologies, and he tagged a "Clearly," In between her 'I didn't think' and the final 'I'm sorry.' That, too, was when Tomas realized the thumping on the inside of the door had stopped. His eyes moved past Mikaela to stare at the door, and then his gaze skimmed back to her -- close was an understatement, but he liked to be close when he was making points. "You better fucking hope he's not," He growled, stepped back and pulled her away from the door, kind of shoving her aside. "Get your fucking knife off the floor," He instructed her, sharp, leaned his shoulder and weight into the door and pulled the lock pin, because as soon as the knife was clear he was going in.
paradise and sin [11:10 P.M.]: Mikaela Holden came to the sudden and stunning realization that she never again was going to be on this side of Tomas' temper if she could help it. Never. Again. She had been on the receiving end of a few of his sides. The quiet concern, the dry snark, the drunken romps .. but this was new, and so far she was not a fan. Too-bright eyes were a rapt audience on the dark of his when they broke contact to look at the door, and then came back. He was close enough that when he made it clear she best start praying that when the door opened, dude was alive, he might see her tremble. Biting into her lip sharply to try and control that, it was let go with a soft cry when he yanked her away from the door and sent her skittering a few steps until she was able to catch proper footing; immediately spinning around to snag both the knife and the towel -- and her phone -- from the floor to keep it clear, and keep it safe from whatever the hell was about to happen. All three items were clutched to her chest; the phone and bloody towel in one hand, the bright green handle of the knife clutched in the other, it's sharp blade raised upward toward her chin. Probably not the best place, but it was it. Mikaela stepped back further; until her back met the edge of the prep counter -- clearing the way for him to open the door entirely. "Don't be dead, please don't be dead," she whispered. She didn't want to have to stick Tomas too. -d-
in walks death [11:38 P.M.]: It wasn't a good side to be on, by any means. He was violent and unpredictable. It would be wise of her to avoid angering him again. They didn't really have a lot of opportunities to work together, but this surely was not how either of them probably expected this to go. Honestly, Tomas wanted to have his time with the man in private, all by their little lonesome, but so much for that. God damnit, Mikaela. He could, though, see the terror and the visible shake upon her lips when he made his idle threat before shoving her aside -- well, hopefully idle, I think I really would prefer the world 'veiled. His veiled threat. Whatever the case may be, he still pushed her away and readied the door. Black eyes flickered back to look at her, waiting for her to put some distance before he opened the Schrödinger Freezer. A foot violently kicked out at Tomas when he swung the steel door back. HOORAY, MIKAELA!! He doesn't get to kill you. That being said,t he man wasn't in great condition, he maybe had been waiting, heard the goings on outside and was waiting for someone to inevitably open the door. Tomas hadn't exactly been quiet or gentle out there. He kind of rolled, the kick grazing his ribs, but did little to hurt him, and Tomas smacked his hands down, grabbed the blue latches and yanked the man out of the freezer with two and a half swift steps before he slammed his knee down into the guy's chest. He heard it, the crack of bone was an unmistakable sound, combined with the man's muffled screams. Tomas dropped down so hard onto his chest, the man's hands still tied behind his back, something, somewhere, back there snapped. His hand came up, fingers snapped quickly. Knife. Was what he was demanding, opening his palm and waving his hands around like a needy restaurant customer looking for the bill or a refill.
paradise and sin [11:51 P.M.]: Idle, veiled, whatever the fuck it was, baby girl got it. The few moments that it took for him to unpin the door and swing it open were the longest in Mikaela's twenty eight years. All she heard was her heart's terrified beat, and the buzz of fear in her own ears. Wide eyes refused to budge away, though. If that man was in there, bled out to death, she was going to look upon him and see what she'd done. A foot! There was no way a dead man could kick his foot! But there was no relief this time, not really. Might not be dead now, but death was coming. Pain and torture before it. She watched. Needing to see. Watched Tomas drag the man out into the kitchen proper, where there was far more room to do what the hell he needed to do. The sound of bones cracking tensed in her jaw, and she didn't notice she'd begun to tremble again, and didn't know at the time that she wasn't going to be able to get the sound of those muffled screams out of her head for a long long time to come. Another snap of bone, when Tomas dropped his weight on the guy, and Kae made a sound like it pained her too, but he wasn't going to have to snap at her twice. She lurched forward, thrusting her arm out as soon as she was close enough to hand him off the knife; twisting it about some in a tried and true kitchen professional way of never handing someone something sharp with the blade out -- he'd get to take the handle. Vision locked on Tomas all this time, but now it slipped. Down to the man, who's skin was too pale from being in the freezer all that time, who's face was caught in a grimace of pain, and who's blood was streaming steadily from the stab wound just below his shoulder. "Who is he?" Sure, NOW she wants to know. -d-
in walks death [12:07 A.M.]: There was some kind of sick satisfaction that he got out of someone's squirming pain ridded faces. The part of Tomas that could probably use some therapy, that's for damn sure. Mikaela was just about noise in the background, someone to hand him his tools, at this point when she put the blade into his palm. He didn't even look, just closed his fingers around the handle and dropped his hand to press it against the man's throat and he panicked, shot wide eyes at the Puerto Rican. He simply lifted his hand up and pressed the universal sign for 'shh' against his lips with his free hand. Ugh. This is not how he likes to do things. Black eyes flickered back to the blonde and her question. "I was following that nosey cop around today and this mother fucker and some other guy came into the gift shop she was in and robbed the joint. She ran after the other perp, I went out the emergency exit and caught him with the door," Black eyes lowering to the man, tilting his head not unlike a raptor might. "Didn't I?" His attention flickered back to Mikaela, his humid voice finishing the story off quicker. "So I grabbed him and threw him in the truck before she could come back and arrest him. Because I'm very curious," He said, turning his attention back down to the man, tapping his cheek, now, with the boning blade to the staccato nature of his next four words. "Who. You. Work. For."
paradise and sin [12:16 A.M.]: Ohhh. So he was one of the ones going around town robbing places. A frown tipped down her mouth, but as Tomas went on, and one key word especially, her brown eyes rose to him and a brow quirked. "Perp?" He did not strike her as the type to watch a lot of TV or movies, especially not the cops and robbers type, so the word choice seemed really fucking odd to her, but though she questioned it .. it wasn't anywhere close to being a top priority. What was, was a knife with her fingerprints all over it, being slapped against the guys cheek, and all the blood on the floor. Some of it hers. Maybe she should call Adam, but even the thought of that asshole here for this turned in her belly, and she dismissed the thought before it was even fully finished. Instead, Mikaela took a few steps back, and out of Tomas' way for what it was he needed to do to find out the information. That was the priority. Finding out. His sick satisfactions might come with the pain of peoples faces, but hers was a sick curiosity to what the next moves were going to be, and thus, Mikaela dropped down into a closed legged crouch, so she had a better line of sight on things. A slow pull of glassy doe eyes to Tomas, and they drifted back down to his captive. Nothing hurt, not yet. Not the cut on her head, or the damage that would come from hitting it twice. That was the fun part about adrenaline. It was gonna sneak up like a bitch later. -d-
in walks death [12:37 A.M.]: The word caused the man to blink, because like his mun, he didn't even realize he had used it. His head tilted to look up at her, and his brows screwed. "Huh?" It took another moment for what she had asked by repeating that single word to click in his brain. "Perp.. perpetrator... rapscallion, thief, asshole," He may not watch too many cop dramas, but he had a pretty considerable vocabulary. Tomas settled a look upon her for a moment before the man struggled and his attention shifted back down to him, the man's teeth all but bared from where Tomas had shoved the polyester strapping through his mouth. The blade was tucked close to the blue fabric -- hope you don't need these back, Ernesto -- and he sliced it free... mostly, because he wanted that ratchet handle, grabbing the strap and yanking it away to free the man's mouth. "Who are you working for?" Tomas asked, in no uncertain terms. The man was bloodied across the face, bruised, stabbed, but still, spat a sharp 'FUCK YOU' at the Puerto Rican. Wrong answer. Tomas shifted and swung the ice-cold metal across his face, his hand wrapped tight around the blue strap. "We can do this one of two ways," Tomas growled, digging his knee into the man's breast bone while leaning forward to put his hand on the forehead of his captor, slamming it hard down into the floor. "You can tell me what I want to know and we can end this pretty quick, or I have the girl boil water, I douce you with it, and I put you back in the freezer and you freeze to death; slow, riddled with holes after I use this knife here," Lifting the blade for the man to see. "to maybe, I don't know, pull out your metacarpals... those are the little bones in your fingers. What's it gonna be?"
paradise and sin [12:49 A.M.]: Truthfully, she'd already forgotten she'd even questioned his wordage when he elaborated on it, drawing her gaze back to him. She had no comment for him, though whether that was in light of the way he stared at her or because he sliced through the straps and gave the man voice again was up for debate. Such a point blank question that deserved a true answer, but instead all Tomas got instead was the mistake of a pained wrenched out pair of words that had Mikaela wincing. She never understood why people in already precarious situations pushed more buttons. She almost wanted to interject that this would go so smoothly for the guy if he just cooperated. But she said nothing. Was she afraid of the wrath of Tomas if she tried to step in? Did she want to watch him do more work? D - All of the above. Every blow resonated through the room. Gaze went to Tomas at his suggestion that he might have her boil water, and if she took any offense to being called ``the girl`` it certainly didn't show. The dude had looked to her too at the suggestion, but what he saw was Mikaela then looking over to where the pots hung on the wall. So very easily accessible if they were needed. Doe eyes met the bloodshot pair that stared at her, but he broke first with Tomas putting the blade where he could see it and the next scenario was painted. She'd never been privy to .. this. Sure, violence came and went at the Dive, or she'd seen some thing on visits to the warehouse or generally anytime Adam Byrne was anywhere .. but up close and personal like this? Teeth scraped at her lip; dug in to keep it still, and she let her pulse be the only thing that went wild -- cold and unfeeling in the expression she forced herself to wear while Tomas interrogated, and she told herself to simply do whatever it was he asked. She'd put herself here, after all. -d-
Characters: Mikaela Holden & Tomas Esteban
paradise and sin [9:37 P.M.]: Oh, oh this was a bad idea. Why the hell had she even thought this would be okay? Dumb. Just straight dumb. Beyond dumb. Tomas was going to have her freakin' ass. Sure, it'd been a nice thought in hindsight. Poor Ernesto had been there most of the night, alone in the bar. Go on, head home, she tells him, she'll keep watch. Unable to sleep anyway, and besides, the dude was trussed up like the pigs used for the Sunday roasts. What was he gonna do? There was a ton of prep work she could do. The Dive was down a cook since she'd fired the one who started that small fire and acted like it was an inferno and had the fucking FD here. She was gonna have to pay for that visit! There was a new marinade she wanted to try for the Mahi that she'd found on some website. So then, four am, and she'd alone in the kitchen; humming to herself and mixing spices and fruit zests and oil and it was time for the fish. That's when it all went to shit. Complete and total shit. So now, four fifteen am, and she was seated on the floor of he kitchen with her back against the freezer door, and a bloody towel held up to her temple and an even bloodier prep knife clutched in her hand. Six minutes ago she'd called Tomas, leaving him a frantic voice mail that he had to get to the Dive, NOW. The pin that locked the freezer was streaked in blood, but she'd managed to slip it in to latch the thing -- but it didn't stop the dude inside from kicking at the door now; dull thuds and one or twice he'd managed to kick hard enough that she was jerked forward a little. "C'mon, you fucker, call me back." He phone was face up on the floor, in reach should she need to grab it if it rang. Dumbshit was still in her jammies too; little cotton shorts covered in pastel fucking cupcakes with smiley faces, and a tank top that was older than dirt -- it'd probably one been purple, but now it was a lil' purpleish gray, and had been cropped years ago to end somewhere mid-ribs. Perfect attire for such a situation, complete with teal flip flops and a fucking high set messy ponytail. Secured with a lemon yellow scrunchie. Mhm. Hot. -d-
in walks death [9:51 P.M.]: Ten minutes. Ten minutes makes the difference between life and death. One little swipe of the snooze alarm was the difference between Mikaela working on cooking her fish and a health inspection violation. Ten. Fucking. Minutes. See, unbeknownst to Mikaela, after Tomas had left the dive somewhere around 11:30, midnight, he had since stopped back by once to check in on Tomas, make sure the asshole wasn't freezing to death -- because that would do nobody any good -- and then told Ernesto he'd be back in a few hours. Business to attend to, as it were. What he was attending to didn't much matter, right now, did it? His phone had been wedged awkwardly between the seats and he didn't realize it was ringing until after the call went to voicemail. He blinked, listened to the voicemail and then cursed so harsh a nun somewhere probably got the vapors. He didn't bother calling back -- should have, but didn't -- he was driving from where he was with the intention of running home then back to the Dive, but that wasn't going to happen, apparently. The Puerto Rican hopped out of his truck near the back door, where he had been parked earlier, and growled in irritation when he didn't see Ernesto's work truck anymore. Somebody was going to fucking have hell to pay. So by 4:20 in the morning, Tomas was running in through the back of the dive. "Mikaela!?" Her name coming out in the way of a shout when he stumbled to a hault near the bar, swung his gaze around and started back for the kitchen. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... the man all but stumbled, stopped and stared at the leggy blonde. "What the fuck happened?!" Was he pissed? Yeah, he was pissed. " Where the fuck is Morales!?" Are you okay, Mikaela? Yeah, that's not the question he was asking when he rushed over to pull her off the floor and up to her feet.
paradise and sin [10:01 P.M.]: Thud! Thud! Thud! That last one pushed her forward from the impact from the inside, and her lashes closed tightly and her grip tightened too, on that knife. "I WILL STAB YOU AGAIN," she could only hope that the hoarse yell was enough to reach through the thick door. For the life of her, she couldn't remember now if you could hear things in the kitchen when you were in the freezer, or was it just the whirr of it that took over all sound? She was, however, responded to with another dull thud as feet hit the inner door. "C'monc'monc'mon," dropping her hold on the towel she had pressed to her freaking face so that it fell into her lap, Kae was just reaching for her phone again when Tomas' shouted her name. It was uncertain that before this moment she actually knew what true relief felt like. But this was it. "In here," she croaked out, but who knew if he actually heard her -- didn't matter though, because there he was. The knife fell from her hand, like she'd had no right to even be holding it in the first place. Clattering to the floor, as Tomas bum rushed her and hoisted her to her feet. There was a cut just above her brow; slightly swelling around the leaking thing -- though it wasn't too bad that she'd need stitches. Just a head wound that bled too much, and more of it already dripping down her face. "I sent him home!" That much was going to be an important stresser. No need in Ernesto getting in trouble for something Kae had instigated. "He was tired, it was late! I can watch a door!" Clearly. ".... I can't watch a door," the words almost came out in a whine, and she shot a look to the door, where the thudding was happening in overtime. "I don't know how he got loose. He's still tied up, but like .. was on his feet when I opened the door to get my Mahi. I thought I'd just slip in there, get it, and go, and he'd just be sleeping or something!" Uh huh. Sleeping. In a freezer. -d-
in walks death [10:12 P.M.]: She sent him home? "Why the -- why would you do that?!" His hands were hard on her shoulders and, to be honest, the man shook her a little bit. A very large part of him wanted to belt her across the face. Who the fuck -- WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT!? He wouldn't even do that! He listened to her stammer through her explanation, Ernesto was tired -- yeah, so was he, it showed around his eyes, the normally darker olive complexion in his eye sockets was heavier with a shadow than normal -- all he wanted to do catch a quick power nap before he came back to ask this guy some questions -- if she was observant, the man had had a shower, but was still in the same blood-stained clothes he was wearing when he had left earlier that evening. She might be too distraught to notice though, but his hair was still mostly damp and slicked away from his face. I can watch a door!! She tells him, and Tomas's brows shot upwards. "No, you can't watch a door," He agreed with her, and when he released her, it was hard, shoving the woman back against the door in question. He rocked back onto his heels, both hands raking through the slicked down black hair. She didn't know how he got loose. Tomas whipped back around on her and pointed at the door at her back. "He was tied up with cargo straps!!" His voice sharp and loud. "I didn't exactly put him in prison chains, Mikaela!" All it would take was some solid finagling of the man's feet, and he could slip out of that hold, it wasn't as secure as the one around his mouth and hands. He rocked away again and cursed, a fervent, "God damnit," Snapping from his lips. Obviously the man was alive on the other side, so at least Tomas had THAT going for him. The man sucked in a breath of air, in through his nose and out past his lips before he turned back to regard Mikaela with as stony an expression as he could muster, but it was still on the verge of boiling over again. "... so he hit you, then, or something, and you... " He waved a hand down at the knife. "Stabbed him then?"
paradise and sin [10:24 P.M.]: "BECAUSE I'M NICE," her voice was too loud, but that much wasn't registering right now. Ironic really, shouting at someone that you're nice, while they're shaking you in anger. The door was unforgiving when her shoulders and the curve of her skull hit the galvanized steel of it -- leaving her wincing, and her feature set into a grimace. How had she fucked this up so bad! Damn it, Mahi!! There was still some smarts left about her; keeping her back to the wall, and not moving at all while Tomas worked out his thoughts and shouted at her some more. Truthfully, she was braced for more than this. Braced for the heavy hand to crack across her face. He was anger, and this may have been the first it was aimed at her, and deservingly so. "I shouldn't have opened the door," she whispered; biting into her lower lip, and swallowing some. He wanted to know the rest, and she nodded. "I had the knife, to cut the fish in half .. Opened the door, and he was just standing there. Knocked me into the shelf hard. Hit my head on it. So I stuck." A hand came up, drifting to the exposure of her own collarbone, somewhere just south of it to indicate where she'd stabbed the man with the boning knife. It wasn't that long really, but a sharp thing -- made to go through bones. "He backed off, and I ran back out." The evidence of that was clear too -- the drops of blood on the floor to the prep counter, the smear of it where she'd obviously put a hand. "Then he started to push at the door from inside, so I pinned it and sat down and called
you." -d-
in walks death [10:35 P.M.]: "Oh GOOD FOR YOU!" He spat back at her, because it obviously wasn't good for anyone, irony not withstanding. The sound of her slamming against the door was a little bit satisfying, but it didn't really give him the same feelings of relief as a crack across the face would have. If she was anyone else, he would have, and it was clear that he was maintaining some restraint by the way his hands balled into fists and the contours of the musculature in his arms were tight and corded. Mikaela's little whisper of fucking logic there was met with Tomas whipping on her again. "You're God damn right you shouldn't have opened the door. You shouldn't even have been here." Sure, the Dive was hers, and he understood that, but he had given Ernesto STRICT instructions: nobody in or out of the freezer but him or Tomas, simple as that. He knew, though, that Ernesto had kind of a soft spot for Mikaela, he's not fucking blind, after all, but STILL. He listened to her explain what she had done, how it had happened, and Tomas moved back to her when she finished. SPAAANG went his hand on the door beside Mikaela's head, slamming his palm against the metal hard enough that it warped a little under his ire, though his voice lowered to something cold and quiet. "The next time I borrow your freezer, you just assume it no longer exists. I don't give a shit if the Queen of God Damn England is waiting for that Mahi. He could have gotten that knife from you and I could be walking in on a corpse. So next time, when I leave somebody to watch a door, leave it to the professionals to watch the door."
paradise and sin [10:44 P.M.]: These are the parts where she's supposed to act all cool and big bad, right? She's a girl, he won't hurt her! She's so pretty, she can do no wrong, it's all okay! Wrong! Tomas whipped back around to face her, and Mikaela visibly flinched; shrinking back against the door as if she could Homer fucking Simpson into it like it was a wall of grass. There was no way she was going to point out that owned the place, so technically she could be wherever she wanted. No fucking way. No, instead she just stared at him, speaking only when asked a direct question, and bled into her eyelashes on the right side there; her feet shifting a little when he came closer in maybe a little vain attempt to draw herself up taller along the wall. But his hand hit hard next to her face, and she turned it to the side; closing her eyes tight against the way his voice came clear and precise in such close proximity. Mikaela didn't realize that her hands came up; pushing first firmly into his chest, but rather than shove him away, they curled into the fabric of his blood stained shirt. Heart hammering frantically inside the chest that rose and fell in quick pants, Kae nodded in fast succession. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry -- I fucked up, I didn't think. I'm sorry." The thudding inside, well that had stopped -- how long ago, she wasn't sure, she was just noticing it and it clenched her fingers more so into his shirt, and turned now wide eyes back to Tomas, still so close. "Do you think he's dead in there?"
in walks death [10:57 P.M.]: Tomas Esteban was an equal opportunity hitter of people. He didn't care if you were a man or a woman, he'd hit you all the same. He might open-palm a woman instead of closed fist one, though, so you're welcome for that bitches, but other than that, he was pretty violent with everyone across the board. That being SAID, the only thing that saved Mikaela, probably, from another bruise was the fact that she was who she was... not to say that his throwing her back against the metal door probably wasn't going to sting for the next day or so, because he hadn't been gentle about that, either. She was afraid of him, and had every damn right to be. He watched her with those shark-like eyes while she shrunk away, kowtowed to his wrath-riddled instructions to her. Yeah, he's aware you own the Dive, Mikaela, but this was Network business, shoved in that freezer, and that overrode your stupid Mahi tuna. He listened to her rapid apologies, and he tagged a "Clearly," In between her 'I didn't think' and the final 'I'm sorry.' That, too, was when Tomas realized the thumping on the inside of the door had stopped. His eyes moved past Mikaela to stare at the door, and then his gaze skimmed back to her -- close was an understatement, but he liked to be close when he was making points. "You better fucking hope he's not," He growled, stepped back and pulled her away from the door, kind of shoving her aside. "Get your fucking knife off the floor," He instructed her, sharp, leaned his shoulder and weight into the door and pulled the lock pin, because as soon as the knife was clear he was going in.
paradise and sin [11:10 P.M.]: Mikaela Holden came to the sudden and stunning realization that she never again was going to be on this side of Tomas' temper if she could help it. Never. Again. She had been on the receiving end of a few of his sides. The quiet concern, the dry snark, the drunken romps .. but this was new, and so far she was not a fan. Too-bright eyes were a rapt audience on the dark of his when they broke contact to look at the door, and then came back. He was close enough that when he made it clear she best start praying that when the door opened, dude was alive, he might see her tremble. Biting into her lip sharply to try and control that, it was let go with a soft cry when he yanked her away from the door and sent her skittering a few steps until she was able to catch proper footing; immediately spinning around to snag both the knife and the towel -- and her phone -- from the floor to keep it clear, and keep it safe from whatever the hell was about to happen. All three items were clutched to her chest; the phone and bloody towel in one hand, the bright green handle of the knife clutched in the other, it's sharp blade raised upward toward her chin. Probably not the best place, but it was it. Mikaela stepped back further; until her back met the edge of the prep counter -- clearing the way for him to open the door entirely. "Don't be dead, please don't be dead," she whispered. She didn't want to have to stick Tomas too. -d-
in walks death [11:38 P.M.]: It wasn't a good side to be on, by any means. He was violent and unpredictable. It would be wise of her to avoid angering him again. They didn't really have a lot of opportunities to work together, but this surely was not how either of them probably expected this to go. Honestly, Tomas wanted to have his time with the man in private, all by their little lonesome, but so much for that. God damnit, Mikaela. He could, though, see the terror and the visible shake upon her lips when he made his idle threat before shoving her aside -- well, hopefully idle, I think I really would prefer the world 'veiled. His veiled threat. Whatever the case may be, he still pushed her away and readied the door. Black eyes flickered back to look at her, waiting for her to put some distance before he opened the Schrödinger Freezer. A foot violently kicked out at Tomas when he swung the steel door back. HOORAY, MIKAELA!! He doesn't get to kill you. That being said,t he man wasn't in great condition, he maybe had been waiting, heard the goings on outside and was waiting for someone to inevitably open the door. Tomas hadn't exactly been quiet or gentle out there. He kind of rolled, the kick grazing his ribs, but did little to hurt him, and Tomas smacked his hands down, grabbed the blue latches and yanked the man out of the freezer with two and a half swift steps before he slammed his knee down into the guy's chest. He heard it, the crack of bone was an unmistakable sound, combined with the man's muffled screams. Tomas dropped down so hard onto his chest, the man's hands still tied behind his back, something, somewhere, back there snapped. His hand came up, fingers snapped quickly. Knife. Was what he was demanding, opening his palm and waving his hands around like a needy restaurant customer looking for the bill or a refill.
paradise and sin [11:51 P.M.]: Idle, veiled, whatever the fuck it was, baby girl got it. The few moments that it took for him to unpin the door and swing it open were the longest in Mikaela's twenty eight years. All she heard was her heart's terrified beat, and the buzz of fear in her own ears. Wide eyes refused to budge away, though. If that man was in there, bled out to death, she was going to look upon him and see what she'd done. A foot! There was no way a dead man could kick his foot! But there was no relief this time, not really. Might not be dead now, but death was coming. Pain and torture before it. She watched. Needing to see. Watched Tomas drag the man out into the kitchen proper, where there was far more room to do what the hell he needed to do. The sound of bones cracking tensed in her jaw, and she didn't notice she'd begun to tremble again, and didn't know at the time that she wasn't going to be able to get the sound of those muffled screams out of her head for a long long time to come. Another snap of bone, when Tomas dropped his weight on the guy, and Kae made a sound like it pained her too, but he wasn't going to have to snap at her twice. She lurched forward, thrusting her arm out as soon as she was close enough to hand him off the knife; twisting it about some in a tried and true kitchen professional way of never handing someone something sharp with the blade out -- he'd get to take the handle. Vision locked on Tomas all this time, but now it slipped. Down to the man, who's skin was too pale from being in the freezer all that time, who's face was caught in a grimace of pain, and who's blood was streaming steadily from the stab wound just below his shoulder. "Who is he?" Sure, NOW she wants to know. -d-
in walks death [12:07 A.M.]: There was some kind of sick satisfaction that he got out of someone's squirming pain ridded faces. The part of Tomas that could probably use some therapy, that's for damn sure. Mikaela was just about noise in the background, someone to hand him his tools, at this point when she put the blade into his palm. He didn't even look, just closed his fingers around the handle and dropped his hand to press it against the man's throat and he panicked, shot wide eyes at the Puerto Rican. He simply lifted his hand up and pressed the universal sign for 'shh' against his lips with his free hand. Ugh. This is not how he likes to do things. Black eyes flickered back to the blonde and her question. "I was following that nosey cop around today and this mother fucker and some other guy came into the gift shop she was in and robbed the joint. She ran after the other perp, I went out the emergency exit and caught him with the door," Black eyes lowering to the man, tilting his head not unlike a raptor might. "Didn't I?" His attention flickered back to Mikaela, his humid voice finishing the story off quicker. "So I grabbed him and threw him in the truck before she could come back and arrest him. Because I'm very curious," He said, turning his attention back down to the man, tapping his cheek, now, with the boning blade to the staccato nature of his next four words. "Who. You. Work. For."
paradise and sin [12:16 A.M.]: Ohhh. So he was one of the ones going around town robbing places. A frown tipped down her mouth, but as Tomas went on, and one key word especially, her brown eyes rose to him and a brow quirked. "Perp?" He did not strike her as the type to watch a lot of TV or movies, especially not the cops and robbers type, so the word choice seemed really fucking odd to her, but though she questioned it .. it wasn't anywhere close to being a top priority. What was, was a knife with her fingerprints all over it, being slapped against the guys cheek, and all the blood on the floor. Some of it hers. Maybe she should call Adam, but even the thought of that asshole here for this turned in her belly, and she dismissed the thought before it was even fully finished. Instead, Mikaela took a few steps back, and out of Tomas' way for what it was he needed to do to find out the information. That was the priority. Finding out. His sick satisfactions might come with the pain of peoples faces, but hers was a sick curiosity to what the next moves were going to be, and thus, Mikaela dropped down into a closed legged crouch, so she had a better line of sight on things. A slow pull of glassy doe eyes to Tomas, and they drifted back down to his captive. Nothing hurt, not yet. Not the cut on her head, or the damage that would come from hitting it twice. That was the fun part about adrenaline. It was gonna sneak up like a bitch later. -d-
in walks death [12:37 A.M.]: The word caused the man to blink, because like his mun, he didn't even realize he had used it. His head tilted to look up at her, and his brows screwed. "Huh?" It took another moment for what she had asked by repeating that single word to click in his brain. "Perp.. perpetrator... rapscallion, thief, asshole," He may not watch too many cop dramas, but he had a pretty considerable vocabulary. Tomas settled a look upon her for a moment before the man struggled and his attention shifted back down to him, the man's teeth all but bared from where Tomas had shoved the polyester strapping through his mouth. The blade was tucked close to the blue fabric -- hope you don't need these back, Ernesto -- and he sliced it free... mostly, because he wanted that ratchet handle, grabbing the strap and yanking it away to free the man's mouth. "Who are you working for?" Tomas asked, in no uncertain terms. The man was bloodied across the face, bruised, stabbed, but still, spat a sharp 'FUCK YOU' at the Puerto Rican. Wrong answer. Tomas shifted and swung the ice-cold metal across his face, his hand wrapped tight around the blue strap. "We can do this one of two ways," Tomas growled, digging his knee into the man's breast bone while leaning forward to put his hand on the forehead of his captor, slamming it hard down into the floor. "You can tell me what I want to know and we can end this pretty quick, or I have the girl boil water, I douce you with it, and I put you back in the freezer and you freeze to death; slow, riddled with holes after I use this knife here," Lifting the blade for the man to see. "to maybe, I don't know, pull out your metacarpals... those are the little bones in your fingers. What's it gonna be?"
paradise and sin [12:49 A.M.]: Truthfully, she'd already forgotten she'd even questioned his wordage when he elaborated on it, drawing her gaze back to him. She had no comment for him, though whether that was in light of the way he stared at her or because he sliced through the straps and gave the man voice again was up for debate. Such a point blank question that deserved a true answer, but instead all Tomas got instead was the mistake of a pained wrenched out pair of words that had Mikaela wincing. She never understood why people in already precarious situations pushed more buttons. She almost wanted to interject that this would go so smoothly for the guy if he just cooperated. But she said nothing. Was she afraid of the wrath of Tomas if she tried to step in? Did she want to watch him do more work? D - All of the above. Every blow resonated through the room. Gaze went to Tomas at his suggestion that he might have her boil water, and if she took any offense to being called ``the girl`` it certainly didn't show. The dude had looked to her too at the suggestion, but what he saw was Mikaela then looking over to where the pots hung on the wall. So very easily accessible if they were needed. Doe eyes met the bloodshot pair that stared at her, but he broke first with Tomas putting the blade where he could see it and the next scenario was painted. She'd never been privy to .. this. Sure, violence came and went at the Dive, or she'd seen some thing on visits to the warehouse or generally anytime Adam Byrne was anywhere .. but up close and personal like this? Teeth scraped at her lip; dug in to keep it still, and she let her pulse be the only thing that went wild -- cold and unfeeling in the expression she forced herself to wear while Tomas interrogated, and she told herself to simply do whatever it was he asked. She'd put herself here, after all. -d-
