7908/What's In That Barrel

What's In That Barrel
Date of Scene:	16 June 2019
Location:	The Beach
Synopsis:	Crystal stops somebody from littering. Maybe saves a life or two.
Cast of Characters:	Darkness, Crystal

---

Darkness has posed:
It's coming. The rain. You can feel it in the air, that thickness. The humidity clinging to skin, the earthy scent of it all. The sun going down may have lowered the temperature but it brought something to replace the discomfort. A storm is somewhere out there off the coast but that's not the unpleasantness being warned of.

"I know, Uncle Frankie. Yeah, I said I'd take care of it so I took care of it." Jackie Estacado, man of talent. Man of fashion. Man of absolutely no moral compass to speak of. Standing at the foot of the old pier, his black suit and tie left unbuttoned and loose. Cigarette in one hand, cellphone in the other. Sunglasses? Still.

"-These things don't weigh any lighter, boss!-"
"-Put your hips into it, Bumper! Like this!-" Thunk, thunk, thunk.
"-He said your hips, not your-"

"Hey, shut up already, I'm on the frickin' phone." Jackie snarls at the dark, twisted little figures rolling three steel drums down the dock. The lamp light flickering above as twisting vines of inky black wind up the corroded poles and snuff the buzzing flourescent glow. The barrels thump and bump along.

To his back, the beach. The sand. The tall, sparse grasses of the breaks. This seemed like the perfect place to put the fear of God into three, all too ambitious young mooks on a night out. The Don wants respect? He sends people like Jackie Estacado to enforce it. In this case, by having stuffed three grown men into steel drums and roll them off a dock into the bay. But, you know, we'll get to that part.

Crystal has posed:
The city is hard for Crystal. Not because it's a city, per se. She doesn't really care that much either way about tall buildings and lots of people. Her bigger problem with cities is the pollution. Every now and then she needs to get out far enough to actually have a chance at cleansing the air and the water around herself.

So she rented a nice little airbnb by the beach. Away from people. Perfect for getting a breath of fresh air.

And for dumping bodies, apparently.

In jeans rolled up past her ankles and a plain dark t-shirt, she's walking along the shore when she catches sight of the man on the phone and the barrels. She hasn't noticed what's making the barrels //move// yet, which is probably for the best at the moment. "Excuse me," she calls over, brows furrowing. "Hey!"

Darkness has posed:
It's out there. That storm. The faint, distant rumble of protest can be heard just barely over the crash and lap of the waves on a sandy, rocky beach. It doesn't hold a candle to the protests of Frankie "Kill-the-children-too" Franchetti. Jackie holds the phone away from his ear, wincing while taking a drag off his smoke. The tiny, furious voice unintelligeable. "Okay, okay. Look, I haven't taken care of 'em yet. I'm in the process of... Yeah. Uh huh. Right." Jackie shrugs to no-one before pocketing the phone.

"Alright, boys. Let's bring it on ba-" Jackie begins.
"-Bring it on back?! What?! This one is still crying, come onnnnnn!-"
"-I think I broke mine, boss.-"
CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, CLANG.

Then dead silence. The shadowy, mishapen figures ducking down behind the barrels on the pier. Jackie quirks a coal black eyebrow above the gold rims of his sunglasses. The approach of Crystal not changing the mans demeanor but it does seem to halt the slow, bumpy procession of oil drums. The orange cherry of his cigarette goes spiralling through the air as he flicks it away with a gloved hand. A faint smile creeping to his lips, Jackie upnods the approaching -witness-.

"Hey. You miss me that much, had to come find me?" He asks with a smooth, easy baritone. Accent in check. Mostly.

Crystal has posed:
Crystal arches a brow, looking back at the barrels when they seem to stop moving. "You know this is a protected beach, right?" she says as she comes closer. Really, anyone with sense would be turning around and walking the other way. It's night. A storm is coming. And someone in a suit is standing on a deserted beach with suspiciously noisy barrels. That's not the sort of thing that invites intervention.

"You can't dump or burn stuff here." Next thing you know, she'll be asking to talk to a manager.

Darkness has posed:
"It is? Huh. Ain't that about a kick in the neck?" Jackie asks with a deadpan. She keeps approaching and the man simply sighs. This is decidedly not what normal people do when confronted by this scenario and Mr. Estacado is keenly aware of the fact. This isn't his first rodeo. Taking that left hand from his pocket, Jackie tightens and straightens up his tie. A simple, black and narrow affair with a silver tie pin. White undershirt, crisp and clean. You can't fault a classic black suit and tie combination. Shoes far too nice for this environment.

"You see, I didn't know that. Now that I do, guess I won't be doing that." He offers a smile, charming if cold. Beautiful in the way a sharks grin is but no less promising of nature taking its course. He jerks a thumb back toward the steel drums, stationary in their shadowy place on the dock. "Not even, like... camp fires? People see that and report it, huh?"

Crystal has posed:
"Cool," Crystal says at the statement that he won't be dumping or burning things tonight, tipping her chin upward as if that closes the topic. "You need some help getting those barrels back to your..."

Trailing off, she looks around, then quirks a brow back at him. "Truck? Limo? Flying car? Seriously, do we need to pretend like it's not weird that you're out here in a suit with three rusty oil barrels? At night? Also, there were voices, I am //pretty// sure of that."

Darkness has posed:
That's when one of the barrels starts to jerk and thump, muffled screams from inside. A small, raspy voice in the distance snarling in contempt.

"-Hey, can't you see the boss is talking?-"
"-No, he can't, idiot.-"
"-The drummer from Def Leopard doesn't have an arm.-"

Jackie's smile does falter, fade and turn to a frown. He huffs a sigh and looks right back to Crystal as if those voices just plain didn't happen. She's the crazy one here, not him. Right? A glance to those drums, the corner of his lips threatens to break into a smirk of sorts. "The help still on the table, sweetheart or are you going in one of those barrels tonight?"

Oh boy, did that ever escalate.

"-I can take this one out, boss.-"
"-It stopped crying, I want my money back!-"
"-Hey guys, watch this!-" Thump, thump, thump.

The lid popping off, a grown man stands up from it in a gasp. Suit torn, nose busted. Blood on his teeth, dark hair curly and damp with sweat. "I'll never steal nothin' again! I swear! I swear! It was all Dino's idea!"

"-Was it Dino's idea to crap in your pants?-"

Darklings, always an ever helpful peanut gallery of horror.

Crystal has posed:
Crystal, to her credit, does not look particularly surprised when a man pops out of the barrel, simply quirking a brow at Jackie and gesturing between him and the barrel as if her point has been made.

"Better idea," she posits. "You give me a //really// good reason why these people belong in these barrels, and //maybe// I decide it's just none of my business." Let's be fair, it's not like the Inhuman royal family has never executed someone in a really unusual way.

"Also, seriously, what //are// those things?" She's caught a glimpse of something at least, but instead of walking //away// from it like a normal person, she moves to walk closer for a better look.

Darkness has posed:
That eyebrow arches again but Jackie doesn't look away from Crystal even as she points out the obvious. "Yeah, about that." Is all he says at first before bowing his head, nudging those sunglasses down the bridge of a narrow nose. Clearying sizing this Inhuman Princess up. It's not a polite gaze. "One size fits all." He says with a chuckle, taking those expensive looking aviators off. Gesturing lazily with them in hand.

"I want a Tesla with a Portugese bikini model in it too." Jackie says with a smug, punchable smile. Clearly having fun with this all of a sudden. "I wonder which of us will get what we want first." It's then that he points a gloved finger at the man standing in the barrel. "Shut your mouth. Step out of the barrel. Bring it right. Over. Here." He demands from the man who clambers and falls in a racket, the barrel nearly rolling off the side of the dock.

Darklings howl with laughter.

"-You sure you wanna reuse this one, boss? Smells like Kentucky!-"
"-Hey, isn't she on TEEVEE?!-"
-"She will be after tonight!-"

Again their little, terrible laughs. Glowing yellow eyes peering bravely from behind the barrels. Clawed hands reaching up to unlock the bands and release two more gasping, sobbing captives.

"You don't wanna know about those things, gorgeous." Jackie says with a laugh. "Which reminds me. Tough talk aside, you didn't see nothin', right? You look like you wear glasses. Hard to make out faces, you know?"

Crystal has posed:
"Huh." Crystal seems more interested in the darklings than in Jackie for the moment. Because clearly, that's the interesting manifestation here. "That is both fascinating and a little bit gross. Are they actually sentient, or just...mouthy? Or are they you?"

She straightens up a bit, gesturing between Jackie and the darklings and leaving the issue of the actual people in the barrels for another time. If it's a distraction tactic, it's one she's committed to.

At his last, she tilts her head, smirking slightly. "I can't tell if you're trying to flirt with me, or intimidate me. But neither is particularly effective at the moment. Portugese bikini model is //awful// specific, though."

Darkness has posed:
"I get that from time to time." Jackie muses under his breath, watching Crystal watching Darklings. The little abominations, while under his control, are gregarious and not at all shy. This is a problem from time to time.

"-She says you're mouthy.-"
"-I'll show her mouthy. I'll show her all kinds of-"
"-The boss looks mad. Does he look mad? Hey, boss! You mad?!-"

The two men still standing in barrels also beg and plead in the background, one screaming and ducking back IN the barrel at the sight and sound of the Darklings around him. They laugh. Jackie sighs.

"I like to keep my options open." Jackie says, pointing to the men in the barrels and the mishappen, skeletal little demons around them. "Those are my employees. I made a deal with some sort of space god that's popular right now. The men in the barrels will not be pressing charges. Will you boys?"

A chorus of NO! GOD NO! And a little no.

"See? Hmmm? Oh, right. I like to be specific in my dreams that sure as shit won't come true." Jackie says with a quiet laugh before taking a step -toward- Crystal. The first movement he's made toward her yet. "What's your name, fearless and proactive stranger?"

Crystal has posed:
"They're fascinating, regardless." Niiiiiice little creepers. Crystal doesn't seem inclined to press the issue of the men just yet. As long as Jackie's willing to play nice, then she's willing to play nice.

"Crystal," she answers his question, turning to face him a little more fully as he steps forward. "I'd ask yours, but I have a feeling you're about as likely to share it as you are to share that Portugese model and the...wait, did you say a //Tesla//?" Because that's the sticking point here, clearly.

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the environmental standpoint, but I've got a friend who'd probably die at the idea of a Tesla being a car worth putting a bikini model in."

Darkness has posed:
"They're morons." Jackie corrects to the chorus of Darkling protest some 20 yards away. There's the first of the Free'd Barrel Boys coming up to the two, Jackie and Crystal, with obvious trepidation. Jackie cuts him off before the man can utter a stuttered word. "You're not gonna do it again, right?" A quick shake of the head, he starts to open his mouth but Jackie again beats him to it. "Go. Take your friends. Leave your wallets on the ground." Shocked by their freedom, the men hurry to act. Adrenaline is a mighty fuel.

"Crystal. You don't look like a Crystal." Jackie muses before offering that smug, movie star smile of his. The man is a looker, that much is obvious. The insides likely do not match the outsides. "I've always liked the name Doug." He says before scoffing at the talkative witness to an almost double homicide. "Hey, I don't want it for -her-. I want it for me. Flashy cars are all well and good as bait if you need it. Some guys don't. The new suspension system is supposed to be like riding on a cloud." Nodding sagely at this, Jackie Estacado lets the cool slip as the three men hurry as fast as the sand will allow.

"You've taken all this about as well as can be expected. You gonna make this any more difficult or are we going to keep playing nice? I'd hate to find out if somebody who looks a Hell of a lot like..." Jackie pauses. Squinting ever so slightly. "Boys, you say you seen her on the TV?" He asks, turning his head toward them even if his eyes stayed on her. Shadows deepen. Darklings laugh.

"-The news?-"
"-They don't have those kind of shows on the news.-"
"-Who even wants a Tesla anymore?-"

Crystal has posed:
"Doesn't look to me like there's any trash getting dumped in the ocean today, so I can't imagine why I'd need to call anyone," Crystal says with an easy smile, head tilting ever so slightly at the deepening of the darkness. It seems more curious than anything else though. As if she's taking its measure.

"Very kind of you, cleaning up your mess like that. If only more people were more cognizant of what they're leaving behind, the world might be in better shape." It probably doesn't help, though, when she snorts back a laugh at the last comment. "You sure they're not a manifestation of your subconscious or something?"

Darkness has posed:
"No, it looks all about cleaned up on this section of beach. It'd be a really boring call to make anyway. 'Hey, nothing to see on the beach. Okay, bye bye'. Total time sink." Jackie laconically bemoans with a flippant wave of the hand before tucking his sunglasses away. Inside his jacket. Nickel plating and pearl handle catching the light before he tugs his jacket back into order. The shadows seem... curious. Just as much as Crystal. A looming presence, an unseen but felt heaviness on the back of the mind. The feeling of being watched. From where though?

"-He's very environmentally sound!-"
"-So was Ghengis Khan.-"
"-She laughed at my joke. I'm now the boss.-"

A small scuffle for dominance occurs in the almost too dark shadows on the docks, a barrel rolling off the wooden planks to splash below. Revealing the spindly, stunted forms of the Darklings as they claw and bite at eachother. Jackie seems to ignore it. Or he's just used to the commotion.

"Not leaving two idiots in the bay? I think I did worse by letting them out to breed and make more idiots. We'll see. Maybe over drinks in about ten years. You know. See if I was right." Jackie clears his throat. The brawl stops. A series of appologies and one admission of theft is all the Darklings give.

"I'm not sure of anything anymore. People fly and shoot lasers. I mean, really... who or what can you trust anymore?"

Crystal has posed:
"Not a whole lot," Crystal shakes her head, hands in her pockets as she starts to take a few backward steps along the beach in the direction she came from, casual. "You just never know what you'll run into."

She starts to turn, though pauses half-way, lips twisting in a mischievous grin as she leans around him to point in the general direction of the darklings. "That one's kind of cute."

A last trouble-bomb delivered, she winks at Jackie and turns to head back toward the airbnb. Mission...accomplished.

Darkness has posed:
"No, you really don't. Always best to be prepared for the worst, I suppose." Jackie says casually. Sometimes even he doesn't know if he's laying down threats or not. It's almost reflex when you're raised by murderers and goons. When she steps back, Jackie steps forward. Just the once.

A glance away from Crystal to the Darklings as they huddle and wave at Crystal from their little patch of abyss. "That one has brain damage." Jackie quickly says of the more precocious Darkling. Head tilting aside, that long black hair spills down his cheek. Too blue eyes watching the Inhuman royalty depart. He doesn't follow but he does watch. The shadows are his eyes, after all.

"We're going to have a long talk about inside voices and outside voices, boys. Bring one of those drums. It'll be a useful teaching tool."

The groans of Darklings and the sudden THUMP THUMP THUMP of an oil drum gets quieter and quieter as Crystal retreats to the comfort of light and air conditioning.