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The blood slides down your skin like tears...

Flowers of purest red bloom upon your flesh...

Colors mix and mingle in a silent chorus of pain...

Oh...


Sami blinked, hearing Tony's part of the conversation clearly. The other voice was muffled - it would take some analyzing to know what they had said - but she knew for certain it had been male. From what she could gather, Beans was shot, the Mafia would be blamed for it, and the Family had no idea who did it.

That was all she needed to know.

Hm... interesting...

"Who was that, dear?" She asked absentmindedly, not lifting her eyes from where she was studying Anthony.

Finally. Jasmine chuckled; a throaty, sensual laugh - one that you knew had to be up to no good, or unbelievably horny. Arthur was an old fart, so cross the latter choice off of the menu.

"Yes," Elsa replied, still in that throaty voice, "I know exactly who you are. Took long enough to get a hold of you, but I'm also on a time schedule, so I must be quick. A simple question, first of all: Would you consider your institution a righteous one?"

The cell phone was upstairs. Jasmine would... probably react strangely to it, in conjunction with the queer messages she was receiving down here. Oh well, nothing to do about it at the time.

The special phone (it was a big contraption, bigger than most computers these days) that Jasmine was using, was untraceable. That was because, as stated earlier, it doesn't exist. Send calls, but it couldn't receive any in return. It was registered to no phone number, either.

~

Beans was in critical condition. The shot had entered his chest, through his left armpit. Beans had been in the process of reaching up to switch off an over (which should still be shut off by Rose for practicality) when the shot was fired, through a window.

Beans' pulse was rapidly dwindling. Emergency surgery was definitely necessary, and the detective wasn't even conscious. His right hand, however, did ball into a fist, before relaxing, several times in conjunction.

((Oops, sorreh.))

Alfone coughed, viciously. He was feeling very nauseated. "H-help..." He managed to stutter, only a dry, scratchy whisper. If one were to look at him in normal lighting, his skin would appear white with blood loss. His gums would be yellow, with... liver failure? His cheeks would be green, with nausea.

His hair would be dry, unwashed, messy. His clothes, raggedy and smelly. His mood... blank.

Jasmine gave another sensuous, throaty laugh. "Would I tell you my name? Apparently, I would - call me Betty, Arthur. So I'm assuming you consider this a righteous institution - that's fine with me."

After a pause, Elsa continued.

"I'm an assassin."

Another pause, for dramatic effect.

"I kill people, many people, for profit and fun."

A third pause, and then a low, throaty chuckle once more.

"Now, I have a deal to make with you. You only get one answer, and if you hesitate, things will be bad. Do you hear me?"

Elsa waited for a response.

Jasmine snorted. "'Overrun by crime and disorder'?" she repeated, incredulously. But time was short.

"Well, at least you think so. Okay, so here's the deal. I've always wondered, why is it that the police, once fending off a bad guy, or whatever, will call an ambulance for an injured civilian. But" she added, "when a policeman is injured, he is packed straight into a police vehicle and rushed to the hospital that way."

This last part was a statement.

"That's not the deal," Elsa cut Arthur off from anything he was about to say. "It was rhetorical, because I doubt you can say anything that will appease my question, anyway. The deal," she continued, "is a bit more exciting."

Another pause. A warm, sensuous growl. Not - growling like an animal. Just a warm hum, from one's throat. It signified--pleasure. It ending in a rolling of the tongue--laughter.

"Here's what I'm going to do," she began finally. "I'm going to take my rifle, go out, and kill somebody, within the hour. You, however," she added, "get to choose who I do or don't kill. I shall set my sights on either an innocent civilian, or a working police officer. So - who's more important to you? Who shall I kill?"

This was it. No hesitation... or else, was Jasmine's threat.

((Ooh... must have worked with the Chinese for some reason in the past.))

As stated, multiple times before, Jasmine's cell phone was a couple stories up, in an apartment. The phone she was currently using could not be called. No existing number dialed into a phone could find it.

Although this has already been explained, I'll leave it at that. 'So there'!"

((And I may end up leaving before Prince responds.))

((Sulty? ...Sultry? Or Salty? XD He has no idea where she is, and to somehow "know" would be god-modding. I'm curious to see how you wish to accomplish this task of "meeting the... ...himself."))

Jasmine did not laugh. She didn't utter a sound. Silence, for an agonizingly long moment.

"No," she replied at last. In a highly sarcastic voice. It didn't last long. "Answer, now, or I swear to God I will hang up this phone, grab my rifle, and go and kill as many people as I can. I'm not ******** with you."

She was completely calm. Not a hint of anger, rage, wrath... or of falsehood. Jasmine was dead-serious. Arthur's last chance to get the question right.