04-04-2019, 04:13 PM
So Night Follows Day Pt. 06
By T. MaskedWriter with special guest author Susan Bailey.
"All right!
Stop whatcha doin',
cause I'm about to ruin
the image and the style that ya used to.
I look funny,
but yo, I'm makin' money, see.
So yo, world, I hope you're ready for me.
-Digital Underground, "The Humpty Dance"
Note: Before Ms. Bailey takes over, I've gotten some comments about the use of parentheticals. Strong arguments were made about their taking the reader out of the story, and I agreed, so have been trying to use them less. Susan, however, has that "House of Cards/Ferris Bueller/Richard III" ability to stop and turn to us, the audience, say a few words, then go back to the story; so that's what she's doing when she uses them. So, Ladies and Gentlemen: I give you Susan.
Hi, my name's Susan Bailey. I used to worry about giving out my last name, but then I realized that there are like thirty of us on Facebook. So less worried, now. About that, anyway. I've acquired a lot more to worry about recently.
It's been a while since I did one of these. However, since some of this next part takes place in my head, that Masked Person thought I should step in for a bit here. My usual procedure at this point is to explain who I am: that I've been the "permanent third" in the marriage of lifelong BFFs Troy & Julie Equals since they saved me from an abusive prick about a year ago, that they know how to control minds and are teaching it to me, and that Contessa Helena de San Finzione; yeah, the one from the news and the billboards, is the fourth person in the world who knows the secret. No, really, I DO know her. I could take out my phone and call Helen right now, but she gets enough of that from Julie.
And bathroom walls.
Also Julie's doing.
Mostly.
Helen got off on the wrong foot with me. She's since apologized and we're doing better now. There have certainly been some adjustments. For example, the fact that a woman as strong and powerful as Contessa Helena de San Finzione attracts enemies simply by existing. Well, you've seen the news; someone tried to kill her last month. We know more about that than you might've heard by now. That it wasn't a stalker like they've been telling everyone, but a hitman hired by a rich asshole who wants to acquire a suit of high-tech stealth armor that turns the wearer into an invisible, super-jumping ninja and is coming up for bid at a secret, underground auction at the end of the week. Held by this group that call themselves The Auctioneers. Which, yeah, creative, huh?
All the stuff going on in Seattle right now with the protests? That's just a cover for the auction. The guy out to kill her, Leonard Whyte; yes, the cell phone guy, knows that Helen's probably the only person in the world who can afford to buy it out from under him, so he tried to kill her, and just a little bit ago, killed a group of Chinese mobsters and framed her for it. Oh, and he also knows that she can control minds; and he knows about Troy and Julie, but we're not sure if he knows they can yet as well; just that he thinks he can use them against her. He doesn't seem to know about me. We're trying to keep it that way.
As you might imagine, everyone's on edge, especially Julie. She's usually pretty fearless, but with Helen nearly getting killed last month, and now finding out about Springheel and the Triads and everything, she's worried that Troy will get hurt; which is one of the few things she does fear. Apart from the fact that Troy's parents and Propappou count in her case, Julie's the only one of us who hasn't lost immediate family yet. Whyte threatens her lucky streak, and it's a bit much.
Luckily, we're being protected by a small invasion force camping out on the lawn of our neighbors across the street. Don't worry, I know them; they're on Helen's side, they're all right. They're posing as tourists having a family reunion; and for being from a country whose primary industry is tourism, they're either really bad at it, or so good at it that it just looks bad to an American seeing it from the outside.
Helen had just gone across the street, along with her new protection, a big, bald Englishman named Mander who's surprisingly polite for someone that you can take one look at and know that he's killed people for money. Julie and Troy had just gone to the bedroom so he could comfort her, leaving me alone on the back patio. I thought of calling Rachel, a new girlfriend I've made recently, and asking her to come stay with us while Seattle's likely to erupt into rioting at any moment, but I don't want to put her in danger, too. Huh, I guess she really is safer there than with us right now.
I wasn't sure what to do next, but luckily, I knew some people whose advice I found myself able to trust more often than not. I sat down in a chair and closed my eyes.
* * *
By T. MaskedWriter with special guest author Susan Bailey.
"All right!
Stop whatcha doin',
cause I'm about to ruin
the image and the style that ya used to.
I look funny,
but yo, I'm makin' money, see.
So yo, world, I hope you're ready for me.
-Digital Underground, "The Humpty Dance"
Note: Before Ms. Bailey takes over, I've gotten some comments about the use of parentheticals. Strong arguments were made about their taking the reader out of the story, and I agreed, so have been trying to use them less. Susan, however, has that "House of Cards/Ferris Bueller/Richard III" ability to stop and turn to us, the audience, say a few words, then go back to the story; so that's what she's doing when she uses them. So, Ladies and Gentlemen: I give you Susan.
Hi, my name's Susan Bailey. I used to worry about giving out my last name, but then I realized that there are like thirty of us on Facebook. So less worried, now. About that, anyway. I've acquired a lot more to worry about recently.
It's been a while since I did one of these. However, since some of this next part takes place in my head, that Masked Person thought I should step in for a bit here. My usual procedure at this point is to explain who I am: that I've been the "permanent third" in the marriage of lifelong BFFs Troy & Julie Equals since they saved me from an abusive prick about a year ago, that they know how to control minds and are teaching it to me, and that Contessa Helena de San Finzione; yeah, the one from the news and the billboards, is the fourth person in the world who knows the secret. No, really, I DO know her. I could take out my phone and call Helen right now, but she gets enough of that from Julie.
And bathroom walls.
Also Julie's doing.
Mostly.
Helen got off on the wrong foot with me. She's since apologized and we're doing better now. There have certainly been some adjustments. For example, the fact that a woman as strong and powerful as Contessa Helena de San Finzione attracts enemies simply by existing. Well, you've seen the news; someone tried to kill her last month. We know more about that than you might've heard by now. That it wasn't a stalker like they've been telling everyone, but a hitman hired by a rich asshole who wants to acquire a suit of high-tech stealth armor that turns the wearer into an invisible, super-jumping ninja and is coming up for bid at a secret, underground auction at the end of the week. Held by this group that call themselves The Auctioneers. Which, yeah, creative, huh?
All the stuff going on in Seattle right now with the protests? That's just a cover for the auction. The guy out to kill her, Leonard Whyte; yes, the cell phone guy, knows that Helen's probably the only person in the world who can afford to buy it out from under him, so he tried to kill her, and just a little bit ago, killed a group of Chinese mobsters and framed her for it. Oh, and he also knows that she can control minds; and he knows about Troy and Julie, but we're not sure if he knows they can yet as well; just that he thinks he can use them against her. He doesn't seem to know about me. We're trying to keep it that way.
As you might imagine, everyone's on edge, especially Julie. She's usually pretty fearless, but with Helen nearly getting killed last month, and now finding out about Springheel and the Triads and everything, she's worried that Troy will get hurt; which is one of the few things she does fear. Apart from the fact that Troy's parents and Propappou count in her case, Julie's the only one of us who hasn't lost immediate family yet. Whyte threatens her lucky streak, and it's a bit much.
Luckily, we're being protected by a small invasion force camping out on the lawn of our neighbors across the street. Don't worry, I know them; they're on Helen's side, they're all right. They're posing as tourists having a family reunion; and for being from a country whose primary industry is tourism, they're either really bad at it, or so good at it that it just looks bad to an American seeing it from the outside.
Helen had just gone across the street, along with her new protection, a big, bald Englishman named Mander who's surprisingly polite for someone that you can take one look at and know that he's killed people for money. Julie and Troy had just gone to the bedroom so he could comfort her, leaving me alone on the back patio. I thought of calling Rachel, a new girlfriend I've made recently, and asking her to come stay with us while Seattle's likely to erupt into rioting at any moment, but I don't want to put her in danger, too. Huh, I guess she really is safer there than with us right now.
I wasn't sure what to do next, but luckily, I knew some people whose advice I found myself able to trust more often than not. I sat down in a chair and closed my eyes.
* * *
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