Demons

Date | 8th of April 2022
Time | Late evening, the sun has gone down
Weather | it’s raining and freezing
Surroundings | Aston’s streets
Attire | Outfit

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The sound of her shoes hitting the pavement was muffled by the rain that was pouring down. Her icy fingers grabbed tighter around the plastic bag she had found and used as a poor substitute for an umbrella. There was a long way home from the casino to the southside, especially when you didn’t have money to pay for the bus fare.
A sound behind her made her stop and she looked behind her shoulder. But all she saw was a cat that jumped from a trashcan and disappeared into an alleyway. Shaking her head, she picked up speed and travelled even faster down the streets, feeling how the back of her hair started rising. Something was off, but she couldn’t really pinpoint where it was coming from or why.
But as she looked behind her shoulder again, she collided with something solid. A gasp left her as she staggered back, almost tripping over her own feet if it hadn’t been for the strong hand that grabbed her wrist. “Well, if it isn’t miss Griffiths” a low and threatening voice said, and as she looked up, she recognised him as one of the guns from the British mafia. Shit. How the hell had they found her? She tried to get her hand out of his grip. “Not so fast misses, our boss kindly wants his money back, and he ain’t about to ask twice, if you get my drift little girl” - “unhand me or I’ll scream” she hissed at him, which only earned her a hearty laugh. “That look ain’t good on ya, come now princess, I wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty lil’ face of yours” he barked, but instead of saying anything she stamped his foot and started screaming for help. It took a while before his big hand placed itself in front of her mouth. Which only earned him a bite from her teeth into his flesh. “Help!” she screamed again, kicking with all her might to get out of the strong grip, knowing very well she wouldn’t be able to on her own. But one could help that a good Samaritan would come to her rescue.

Both her and the brute holding her turned their head as someone suddenly spoke out.
For a moment they both stood there with their brows pressed together not really understanding, what the hell was going on. Then Penelope remembered that she was being held on top, and while the idiot was occupied with the newcomer, she forced her foot down on his, pressing her heal into his shoe that made him cry out in pain letting go of her arm so she could get away. She then looked at the mystery man. Yeah of course she had called out for help, but she hadn’t really thought that anyone would actually end up doing just that.
“Wot yee waitin’ fo?” she yelled in her Geordie accent and pointed towards the guys “beat their asses!” she yelled to underline what she felt like he was supposed to do, and then she more or less tried to get out of his way. Because if they were being honest, she wouldn’t be much help, if any. Other than being a good person to get them distracted.

Her distraction had helped, or at least, so she told herself, as the guy had been looking at her rather than the flying fist that connected the jaw. She felt sick as he fell down to the ground, and the person that had come to her rescue kept hitting him, almost in a manner where she questioned if he was there to help or just to get violence out of his system.
“Stop! Stop,” the first stop was said with strength; the next one was whispered as she walked over and tried to place her hands gently around his wrist and pull him away. The guy who had wanted to take her away groaned in pain before passing out. Blood streaming down from his nose and out from his lips. “If ya daan’t stop, you’ll just end up killin’ ‘im”, she said, licking her lips before letting go, not that she had lost love for the man; it still seemed a little excessive to kill a man so easily.

“Oi, smart arsh nah need ter be loike that”* she said with her heavy accent and looked down at the man that fell at Ezio’s feet. She already now got the feeling that he didn’t particularly like her. That was fine, she didn’t need friends. “Ya should count yourself lucky that I get ‘is attention on me” she huffed, and squatted down, removing his jacket she revealed that he was packing iron. She grabbed the gun, and quickly put the safety on after she took out the bullet that was already in the cabinet, before she pulled out the clip to see how much there was left. Then she got up and put the gun in the back of her pants. “Well, thank ya very much for your ‘elp, would ‘ave ended badly if ya didn’t ‘ave stepped in, but I fin’ I will be alwigh’ na”*'

Looking toward him, she gave him a smile that quickly disappeared.  “’ave a sugar and spice night” she saluted him before she started walking away.


*Oi smart ass there is no need to be like that
**Well thank you very much for your help, would have ended badly if you hadn’t stepped in, but I think I will be all right now

She turned when he commented on the fact that she had taken a gun. Her eyes narrowed; suddenly, he wanted to make small talk? Hadn’t he already had his full of her?
Clearly nod, when he was fishing for her name, not that she gave it to him—instead, she turned and folded her arms in front of her chest.
“’e ‘ad me in a pickle, so yeah, I did need ‘elp, tried ter shout ter get ‘is attention, givin’ ya an in”, she explained, but as he invited her out for a pint, her slender well-taken care brow lifted, clearly not impressed. “interestin’ tactic ya ‘ave there, so ‘re ya annoyed at me, or wanna shag me?” she put it quite bluntly—but then again, Penelope had never been a woman that minced her words. Always saying it as she saw it, and if she was being honest, she didn’t have time with people who didn’t like it; it was a win-win situation for her.

She lifted her brow, rolling her eyes; why was it that no people understood her accent? It wasn’t like she didn’t speak English. With a sigh, she folded her arms in front of her chest. “I said, make you your mind, do you want to be annoyed with me, or do you want to have sex with me?” she articulated every pronunciation.  
Her eyes narrowed when he spoke about being a jerk; it was clear she didn’t trust him, but with a sigh, she released the grip her arms were in and threw them a little out from her body.

“Fine, one drink couldn’t hurt”, she sighed, using extra energy to make sure that her accent was as British as it could be, prober British that was, not the south London, as apparently everyone seemed to have a problem with getting all the details. “Where you wanna go, big guy?” she asked, lifting her brow; at least he would have some idea where he wanted to take her.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head, her straight blond hair bouncing around her face as she did. “Can’t say that I have”, she said and shrugged; she didn’t really have time to run around figuring out what was nearby. All she had time for was working and then caring for her sick mother. But nonetheless, she had just agreed to spend some of her very precious time on this man that still hadn’t seemed to make up his mind about what he thought of her or not and to be fair; the jury was still out on what she felt about him.

She stepped inside and looked around, it didn’t seem like there were that many people, but it didn’t surprise her; most people would go to the Elysian Casino these days rather than spend their time here. At least that was her theory. “Penelope”, she answered when he asked her name and turned her dark brown eyes toward him “a beer is fine; want me to find a place to sit?” she asked before nodding and walking over to a couple of tables not far from where they had entered and sat down with a sigh.