And every time you go to sleep...

[recognize_an_opportunity]

Who: Meyer Lansky and all y'all
Where: ~Only in dreams
When: Day 83-88
What: Meyer is having some dreams. Perhaps you'd like to stumble into them.
Warnings: There is definitely disturbing imagery in here. There's copious amounts of murder and blood, kidnapping, drug dealing, and traumatic childhood memories that most definitely include murder and gore. There is also swearing, of course. More warnings will be added if more come up during the dreams.

[[This is an open dream log, to keep things tidy! I set up a couple specific threads for people, but other people can jump in as well, or they can make their own thread, or they can jump into the collective dream thread!

Please just note what day the dream is occurring on if you tag!]]

Comments

[recognize_an_opportunity]

Guns aren't her style? That's singularly unhelpful, he thinks, but he doesn't have time to get into a debate with her about the usefulness of guns. Oddly, he finds that he does remember tears, although it's not something he should know about if he's really back home in New York.

"Get us another weapon," he says, voice tight, anxiety clearly mounting as the not particularly pleased group of gangsters approach them, yelling at them, taunting them, telling them that there's no way four against two can turn out well. He ignores them, not allowing himself to be drawn out by their juvenile manner. If they both remain calm, they can get through this.

"I can't take out four guys on my own," he says, amending his previous statement slightly. While he hopes it doesn't come down to a standoff like that, he's not optimistic. They'd tried to talk it out, tried to come to an agreement, but those four guys had been stubborn, and they'd seemed bent on violence of some kind or another.

[voliere]

Another weapon. She can do that just fine, she knows exactly what to do. Making sure that the men aren't going to shoot her down the second she moves, Elizabeth leaps up, throws the tear open that holds the motorized patriot - and then drops back down behind the cover.

Of course, in the time span that it takes to do that, the other gangsters take a few shots at her, but she isn't too concerned about that, since she doesn't hurt anywhere or anything. She's fine, and besides, she's more focused on peeking around the corner to watch said gangsters shriek and try to shoot the giant Washington robot that's coming at them with a gatling gun.

"There," Elizabeth says, pleased, turning to look at Meyer. She hasn't noticed her ripped sleeve or the bullet graze that's got her arm bleeding, either because of adrenaline or the dream or - the fact that she has no idea what that should feel like at all.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

He's about to pop back up again, get off a few shots at those guys, maybe take down one or two of them -- he's a good shot, he could probably manage that without getting shot in return -- but when she opens the tear and sends out that... whatever it is, his plans are abandoned, and somehow, the only appropriate response seems to be to stay behind cover and gape at her in surprise.

"What was that?" he asks, realizing that maybe it's a stupid question. Whatever it was, he realizes, is doing a damn good job clearing out the four gangsters that're approaching them. In fact, pretty soon, the angry thugs are reduced to being no threat at all. Impressive.

He glances away from the bizarre robot with the gatling gun to look at her, eyebrow raised. She may not notice she's bleeding, but he does, and he gestures at it. "You're bleeding," he points out, rather obviously, he thinks.

[voliere]

She beams, happy that she was able to clear out the room. Booker had made good use of her skills back in Columbia, anyway, so being useful here is nice. She's going to answer his question, but he points out that she's bleeding, and she blinks, looking down at her arm.

"Oh." Ow. She pulls the fabric of her shirt away to look at the wound - it's not serious but now that he's pointed it out, it does hurt. And she's never really been wounded badly like this before. The bullets in Columbia had never really come her way.

"I've never been shot before," Elizabeth says mildly, and she hisses a little when she touches it. "I suppose I'll need to wrap this up. As for what that was, it's a motorized patriot. Do you not have those here?"

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"I can wrap it up for you."

He's already pulling out his handkerchief, preparing to do so. They can make a kind of makeshift bandage, at least, until she gets it taken care of properly. It's not a bad wound -- he's seen a lot worse -- but still, a bullet wound is a bullet wound, and they usually sting like hell.

"And no, we don't have those here."

In the logic of his dream, it makes sense, somehow. She's from somewhere else; thus, she can bring things from wherever she's from into his own world. But this is New York, isn't it, where that kind of thing shouldn't be possible. He doesn't give it much thought, simply reaching out for her arm and indicating for her to pull her sleeve aside so he can bandage it.

[voliere]

Oh, that's nice of him. Elizabeth wrinkles her nose a little, but then sighs with a little huff and turns so that he can bandage her arm. Maybe she's a little cautious in how she does - it's really improper for her to let him do it, or at least, she feels like it should be, but then again, none of this is normal. It's been such a long time since anything felt normal.

"They're quite useful in a firefight. They don't sustain bullet wounds, after all," Elizabeth says, watching Meyer work. "I hope it isn't too awfully strange to you."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"It's strange, but then, what's not strange around here?"

There's a long pause as he bandages her arm as best as he can. It's not a professional job, by any means, but it should staunch the bleeding, at least. He wonders why he'd said what he'd just said -- it is strange, and it's stranger than normal, and usually, he wouldn't be so dismissive of it.

After he finishes bandaging her arm, he finally gets the chance to look around, taking stock of the damage that mechanical thing had done. He's afraid the next part will be unpalatable to her, but there's no way around it. "Now that they're... dealt with," he says, waving a hand vaguely, "we need to get our products back."

There's no sense in leaving what drugs they'd already exchanged with the dead bodies, after all. Dead bodies have no use for heroin, but their live clients very much do, and though this had been the exact definition of a deal gone bad, he's not prepared to abandon the drugs, assuming they've not covered in blood, that is. He fully anticipates, however, that she may not want to go through the dead mens' pockets -- it's not a particularly pleasant task.

[voliere]

No, she's not pleased with having to loot dead bodies, but she's not unused to it. Booker does this... all the time. Not that she's sure where Booker is. That's not important. What is important is Meyer waving his hand and suggesting that they should go look for their product. Elizabeth looks a little squeamish at the notion, but she nods, standing up and holding her arm where the bandage is for a moment.

"Right, of course," Elizabeth says firmly, because she won't allow herself to be a weak link here. "How... shall we go about doing this?" She looks over at the bodies. That sure is a lot of blood.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

He looks around. There had been four men, and they'd all fallen relatively close together. One of them, he'd noticed, had dropped a briefcase on the floor, and he gestures to it. "You go through that guy's briefcase. Take whatever we can't afford to leave without."

That doesn't just mean drugs. It can mean money, it can mean the guy's identification so it takes the cops longer to figure out who he is, it can mean bullets or weapons, but either way, he's attempting to give her the less unpleasant job. There's less blood near the briefcase, less chance of getting her hands dirty. He figures she's owed that, at least, since she'd been the one to bring the bizarre mechanical thing through the tear.

In the meantime, he crosses the room to the guy closest to them, crouches down, and starts going through his pockets and his jacket. To all outward appearances, this doesn't seem to bother him at all.

[voliere]

It's kind of him, and Elizabeth actually gives him a grateful look as she moves across the room to look through the briefcase. It proves not difficult to get into, and it's far enough away from the blood puddles that she doesn't have to gather up her skirts to avoid drenching herself in it.

Inside she finds a few stacks of money, and documents that she doesn't understand, but look important. A closer look makes her think they might be about the intake of large amounts of money, so she takes them just to be safe. There's a case of bullets inside as well, and she decides rather than take all the things out, she'll carefully pick up the briefcase and take it with her.

When she looks over at Meyer, his nonchalant picking at the bodies makes her frown a little. A beat, and then: "Meyer, I've found what appear to be papers documenting intake of money. Would you like to take a look at them?"