[Mila Davis] (Up for a little company?)
to Izzy Montoya
[Izzy Montoya] (always. :) )
to Mila Davis
[Mila Davis] (Would you care to start?)
to Izzy Montoya
[Izzy Montoya] (not particularly, but I can. *L*)
to Mila Davis
[Mila Davis] (*chuckles* well me neither.. so it’s a toss up!)
to Izzy Montoya
[Izzy Montoya] (*L* I’ll do it then. GOSH. :) )
to Mila Davis
[Mila Davis] (You’re just the best.. lol)
to Izzy Montoya
[Izzy Montoya] It’s late, and for once, she’s not at a crime scene, nor arresting someone, or even working – other than the fact that by nature of her job, she is always working in some fashion, even if it’s just like this: A coffee shop, a cup of hot coffee – nothing fancy, but simple black coffee, with added cream and sugar, which is a novelty nowadays – in front of her, a file folder on the table, a briefcase on the floor leaning against her chair, and one Detective Izzy Montoya, sitting near enough the window to watch those walking along the street outside if she were of a mind.
She currently isn’t pay mind to those outside the window, though, but it’s not odd that others pay mind to her. Everything about her screams ‘cop’ – from her mode of dress, business casual in slacks and a tailored blouse, to the weapon holstered at the small of her back, the sensible shoes, and just her entire demeanor. Likewise, her strong features, her blood screams Fenrir, in a way that almost always attracts attention.
[Mila Davis] Mmm.. coffee. The scent had drifted out into the street. Warm, alluring and not to be passed up. With no other real place to be, the detour was decided upon and the door to the coffee shop was pulled up.
In stepped a young woman, early twenties. Long dark hair, slightly above average in height and looks and grey blue eyes. Her attire was simple: a black button up jacket, form flattering jeans and a pair of heeled black boots. Darkly hued lips hinted at a smile. Hopefully, that was just enough to off set the rage that slid off of her. She seemed nice enough, but people still didn’t want to be within five feet.
Izzy’s breeding caught her attention almost as soon as she entered the coffee shop. It almost was as if she could smell it.. Her gaze shifted over to the woman and she offered her a bit of a smile. Perhaps it was a smirk before she headed to the counter to order a drink.
[Izzy Montoya] The bell above the door dings, and Izzy lifts her gaze to see who comes in. When Mila looks her direction – unerring, direct, and obvious – Izzy meets her gaze with an even look of her own. A slim brow quirks over dark eyes, and she watches her go toward the counter. It doesn’t take a genius to see how the people there react to her, either. And – as they say – If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck…
It never fails. one day she WILL find a coffee shop here the True won’t be drawn like magnets.
Mila turns toward the counter, and Izzy returns her gaze to the file in front of her, lifting her cup to take a swallow of the coffee.
[John Thornton] ((Haven’t decided if I’m throwing in on this scene or not yet, folks. Please don’t mind me if I lurk in the meanwhile. :) ))
[Izzy Montoya] (i never mind. :) )
[Mila Davis] (Enjoy the lurking.. or playing – either is good with me.)
[Mila Davis] Well what fun would that be if the kin weren’t stalked by the Trueborns? Maybe its a game to them – see how many they can track down in a day? Probably not – but it’s not out of the realm of possibilities. Especially with the dark and shifty ones..
Mila ordered her drink – a white chocolate raspberry mocha – and once in hand she turned and glanced back towards Izzy. There seemed to be a moment of pondering before confident steps brought her towards the woman. “Good evening.” She smiled.. it was the genuine sort.. “Mind company?”
[Izzy Montoya] Oh there might not be an actual agenda, and perhaps the talking isn’t the problem. It’s the talking down too, it’s the inherent belief that kinfolk are nothing but slaves, and in all ways something less than the True, instead of equal and different. And around these parts – there is a great number of those who believe that.
Izzy isn’t one of them.
Regardless, Mila does as Izzy expected her to, and made her way directly to join Izzy. At least she asked – though it’s likely that the Detective figures she hasn’t much of a choice.
“Evening.” She looks up, and meets Mila’s gaze without hesitation, without flinching away. And then, as slender fingers reach to flip the cover closed on the file before her, then flicks toward the empty chair across from her in invitation.
Other than that, she doesn’t bother to answer the question.
[Mila Davis] Sure, she had a choice. Mila wasn’t entirely like the others – but Izzy doesn’t know that yet. Some days she just played the game differently than her fellow tribemates..
The young woman set her drink down first, brushed her hair aside and slid her jacket off. Underneath was a nice sweater, dark grey in color with a v-neck. The jacket was neatly placed on the back of the chair prior to her taking a seat.
“I’m Mila..” Her voice was smooth, sweet.. and unaccented. “I’m new to town. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.. I’m just hoping to meet as many as I can..”
[Scott Cristos] ((mind if I join in folks?))
[Izzy Montoya] (go for it. Random coffee shop.)
[Izzy Montoya] She watches as Mila takes a seat, while she reaches to take up her cup again, and another swallow. She sets the cup down, the cup near silent as it hits the table.
“Detective Izzy Montoya, CPD. Homicide.” She rarely introduces herself as anything less – as it takes away the inherent authority that her rank in the department implies. It works on criminals, it works on witnesses… it doesn’t mean jack shit to the Trueborn, but old habits die hard.
Looking to meet as many as possible. “I see. Which branch of the proverbial family tree?”
[Scott Cristos] ((thanks))
Scott was just looking the city over tonight. No point in staying cooped up in the pay-by-the-week hotel. Not when you are in a new city with new people in it. So, tonight he strolled around the city in a pair of jeans, black boots and a white shirt covered by a fairly cheap suit jacket. He had a country boy look and while not completely rubish, he certainly carried that Southern mannerism. However, anyone with a discerning eye would notice his tale tale signs of law enforcement, namely the little gold badge attatched to his belt loop right next to a slight bulge in his jacket.
Looking at the coffee shop, he opted to step in and warm up. This place was a stark contrast from his last city.
[John Thornton] ((Folks, too wore out to scene tonight. Maybe some other time.))
[Mila Davis] “A pleasure, Izzy..” Mila offered out a hand. “Homicide eh? Must be interesting.” And no, there wasn’t sarcasm there – it honestly sounded like an interesting career. Her free hand curled around the warm cup and brought it to her lips for a sip.
“Mm.. the part of the family tree with close relations to Gillian Park and Lucas.. Wyrmbreaker.. I think is his name?”
[Izzy Montoya] She takes the hand offered, her shake much as she is – brief and no-nonsense. There’s a strength there, a determination, a history of fighting her way through a male dominated field – though there’s no domination ploy. It’s a simple shake.
She nods, briefly, then. “Then you’re already aware of whom you need to see then.” Absolved from that responsibility, she takes a moment to look up as Scott enters – a brow arching slightly as he’s as much law enforcement as she is, and it’s that obvious.
[Scott Cristos] Scott ordered a coffee and leaned against the pillar near the counter and waited for his tall black to be served. Taking a moment, he looked across the room, a habit of the job really, case the room. His eyes passed Izzy as she was looking at him with an arch to her brow. He gave her a respectful nod and moved on, although he still kept her in the corner of his eye while he waited.
[Mila Davis] “Yes, Miss Park assisted me with that this afternoon. But I’m also interested in meeting the other family members in Chicago.” When Izzy glanced toward the door, so did Mila. A slight smirk touched those darkly hued lips and a brow rose as she gave him a little once over.
“Mm.. this place just brims with family, doesn’t it. Do you know him?”
[Izzy Montoya] “Good.”
She returns her attention to Mila, and smirks slightly. “Apparently. And no, other than he wears a badge.”
[Scott Cristos] When his drink was called, he turned and gave a smile to the barista and then walked to the counter and put a sleeve on it and took a sip to test and canted his head from side to side a moment and figured it was paid for, might as well drink it.
[Mila Davis] “Well – maybe we should continue the tradition of making new friends tonight.” Playfully she gave the other cop a wink and a little gesture with her head that said ‘come and join us’ before returning her attention to the female kin.
“Clarify for me which branch of the family tree you come from? Clearly one of the ones that appreciates such a strong woman.”
[Izzy Montoya] The purity of her blood screams the obvious, but Izzy answers anyway. “Fenrir. And I wouldn’t count on it.” Being appreciated that is.
Mila invites the other to join them, and Izzy glances his way, than back again and then takes up the file folder, and slides it into her briefcase out of the way.
[Mila Davis] “Maybe you just haven’t found the right people to appreciate you..” And no, Mila wasn’t hitting on her – but maybe just indicating that she appreciated a woman who didn’t go hide when her rage filled cousins looked her way..
[Scott Cristos] He looked to the friendly girl and it caused him to raise an eyebrow himself. Although, it would not be polite to not oblige, so he made his way to the women at the table and gave them a nod as he approached.
“Evennin’ all. How’s it goin’?”
[Izzy Montoya] She just snorts. And then when Scott joins, she’s taking another sip of her coffee, before she nods to the badge on his belt.
“What department?”
[Mila Davis] “Good evening.. would you care to join us?” She chuckled quietly at Izzy’s directness. No hello.. no nice stuff – well, good thing Mila was there to fill in those niceties.
[Scott Cristos] “Violent Crimes at the Bureau. How bout yerself?”
Yes, he had a drawl, but it wasn’t so much redneck, more the traditional antibellum accent from the Deep South. He did take a moment to nod to the one that invited him to the table.
“Ma’am.”
[Izzy Montoya] “CPD. Homicide.”
She reaches into the pocket of her coat where it hangs against the back of her chair, and grabs a slim leather folder. From it, she withdraws two business cards, and slides them over, one to each. They are much like she is – no nonsense, practical. Her name and position. Her number and extension at the station. Her cell phone number.
[Mila Davis] Mila simply sipped her coffee and allowed the kin to introduce themselves.
The card was taken with an appreciative smile to Izzy .. and then tucked away in her jeans pocket.
[Scott Cristos] He took the card and read it quickly before sliding it into his pocket.
“My new cards get issued this week, I’ll get back ta you with ’em then. Right now I am just tossin’ tha old office’s cards.”
He looked to Mila as she didn’t introduce herself, so he took the lead.
“Scott Cristos, how are things goin’ tanight?”
He took the offered seat and set his drink down.
[Mila Davis] Well – none of them had really introduced themselves, they were just tossing about which arm of the law the worked for. And, since she wasn’t a cop of any sort, she didn’t chime in.
“Mila Davis – also new to town. I’m not a cop though..” She grinned over the rim of her cup. What was left unsaid was that she was much more than a cop.. and occasionally a little more intimidating too..
[Izzy Montoya] Mila doesn’t introduce herself, and Izzy doesn’t do it for her. She simply takes another sip of her coffee, and swallows twice, three times, before sitting it back on the table.
“Same as any other, I suppose.”
[Scott Cristos] He nodded to Mila.
“Well, nice ta meetcha. Glad to know there are some other law types around here.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose a bit.
“On a scale of one ta hell, how rough would ya say this berg is?”
[Mila Davis] “Ten..” She muttered.. and then laughed quietly. Mila had no idea.. and was currently just making crap up. If and when Izzy piped up, she let her speak.. before continuing on.
“You met any family since your arrival, Scott?”
[Izzy Montoya] She snorts. “Hell times ten. I can’t remember when I had a day off, or more than four hours without them calling me.”
And she falls quiet as they talk a different kind of shop.
[Scott Cristos] He smirked a bit.
“Great, I love job security.”
He chuckled a bit and then shook his head to Mila.
“No, this would be tha first encounter thus far, but I just came in last night. Most of it was just unpackin’, this is my first real venture outta tha room. Seems ta worked out so far.”
[Mila Davis] “Izzy here isn’t exactly true family.. but I think she’s a worthy cousin. Hopefully the two of you can get some work done together..”
[Izzy Montoya] “Then Chicago is the place for you.”
She glances at Mila when she says she’s not true family, but worthy enough, and that brow arches again. She doesn’t say anything though – certainly not that she hates FBI horning in on her cases, at any point at any time. Most cops do.
She simply remains quiet, and lets them chat.
[Scott Cristos] “The feds and local law enforcement have a history of cooperation. I don’t see myself gummin’ up tha works here. I think we all benifit when we focus on those folks out there doin’ wrong rather than snipin’ at one another.”
He took a sip and shrugged.
“Then again, there is somethin’ ta be said fer some healthy rivalry.”
He thought about the True Family and nodded slowly.
“Well, here’s hopin’ we can lend a hand if need be.”
He took a sip, even if no one else did.
[Mila Davis] Aww.. it was cute watching them – or rather Scott – try to talk shop with their new tightlipped friend. So, to fill in the gap.. the dark haired woman jumped in. “How long have you worked for the Feds, Scott? You up there in the ranks and such?”
[Izzy Montoya] ((izzy will jump in when she has something to say. :) ))
[Scott Cristos] “Still a special Agent. Been in tha ranks for five years now. Not lookin’ ta climb tha ranks too high. Ya get taken out of tha field after a while. So, while I’m able ta get out and do good, I will. When I can’t, well…that will be a shitty day.”
He looked to Mila.
“What all do you do. When you aren’t in “tha field”?”
[Mila Davis] “Have you ever met Mulder?” She paused for a moment like it was a serious question.. before smirking and moving on. Sure, he probably thought it was a stupid joke, but she enjoyed it. “He was kinda hot.. back in the day..”
“Me? Mm.. not anything nearly impressive as being a “special agent” or anything. But I sing, actually. Have a small following.. not sure I want to let it get much bigger than that..”
[Scott Cristos] He looked to Izzy a moment and raised an eyebrow and then looked back to Mila.
“Can’t say I did and I suppose popularity can be a burden.”
[Izzy Montoya] She smirks, briefly at the Mulder question, and after a moment. “Were you pointed to the Brotherhood? I believe they have an open mic night on occasion.”
[Mila Davis] Eh, Mila didn’t mind that Izzy had gone silent – she just figured the woman hadn’t really wanted to be bothered in the first place.. and now she just had a good opportunity to keep to herself.
“Yeah.. especially in my situation. So, I do it mostly for fun. A little cash here and there doesn’t hurt..” And unlike most artists.. Mila did not offer out a copy of her CD..
[Scott Cristos] He nodded and let Izzy speak and listened to Mila, wondering what the Brotherhood was. Seemed as good a chance as any to learn.
[Mila Davis] “I was pointed towards the Brotherhood – I was not aware, however that they had an open mic night. Perhaps I’ll give the owners a shout when I head over there, see if I can give it a go.. thank you for advice, Izzy.”
“Scott, has anyone told you of the Brotherhood of Theives yet? It’s a lovely little bar, or so I’m told.. that has some rooms upstairs to better serve the kin and other family of Chicago.” A pause. “Has my description been accurate? I haven’t been by there yet – just told about it.”
[Scott Cristos] “I haven’t heard of it, but sounds like a place I should head to at some point.”
[Izzy Montoya] “Accurate enough. The bar and restaurant are open to the public, and the upstairs is nice enough if you think living in a dorm full of ragey assholes is the best place to be.”
The smirk rests easily on her lips as if it’s a familiar expression.
[Mila Davis] “Someone mentioned free earlier.. free.. dorm with ragey assholes.. considering I am one – it sounds like fun.”
[Izzy Montoya] “It doesn’t cost anything to those of the Nation, no.”
though there are many definitions of the word ‘free’ aren’t there.
[Scott Cristos] He was on Izzy’s side of that one and just nodded and took a sip of coffee.
“Sounds like a place that fits it’s needs.”
[Mila Davis] A wave of the hand.. “If people need it, then they should use it.” Mila just sipped her coffee. Perhaps she should just leave the cops to talk..
[Scott Cristos] “I agree, glad it’s there.”
He relaxed a bit more in his seat and took another much needed sip of coffee.
[Izzy Montoya] Its about then that her phone goes off, and she closes her eyes briefly, before she reaches into her pocket, checks the number, and murmurs. “Excuse me. Montoya.” the last is snapped into the phone, and she listens a long moment, before… “15.”
She snaps the phone closed, and tucks it away again before she stands, and takes up her coat. “If you’ll excuse me – like I said, I never get a day off. Enjoy your evening.”
She nods, settles the coat around her shoulders, grabs her briefcase, and heads toward the door.
[Scott Cristos] He nodded to Izzy.
“Be safe out there.”
[Mila Davis] For a moment, she rummaged in her purse.. before finally coming up with a scrap of paper and a pen. She jotted down a number and her name.. before offering it out to Scott. “Since I don’t have your card yet – I may as well give you my number. You need something – anyone givin you grief.. or whatever, give me a hollar Southern Boy..”
She turned then to Izzy.. and gave her a little wave.
[Izzy Montoya] (thanks for playin!)