From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

Leather and Lace Detective Agency

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Leather and Lace Detective Agency
'Founder: Sabah Shedim'
Basics
Side:	Villains
Motto:	Truth Lies Secrets
Leader(s):	'
Logo:	<0>
Group Colours:	Black, and White
Playerbase
Levels:	Any
Play style:	'
Roleplay:	Required for advancement
Timezone(s):	(all welcome)
Recruiting:	Yes
Contact:	Lucy-Diamond, Jean Le Boucher, Claire Sabbot, Johnathan S. Khaine, Count Giovanni, Tendou Setsuna
http://www.clangroups.com/Guild.aspx?GuildID=281226&TabID=2359774

About

No case is to large, or small!

Roster

• Claire Sabbot
• Count Giovanni
• Flora Mortis
• Jean Le Boucher
• Johnathan S. Khaine
• Lucy-Diamond
• Sabah Shedim
• Tendou Setsuna
• Threshold
• Seductive Detective

History

Bullets for your Birthday. by Leather&Lace

Chapter 1 Ballrooms and Brass

The day was special and the Ballroom at the Ritz was decorated for the occasion. The Birthday Girl . . .Lace would never forget this night. The streamers and gold metallic drapes clung to the walls in great big tear drops. Chandeliers of crystal cast a reflection on the ballroom floor like sweating diamonds. The Birthday Cake seven layers of chocolate madness designed to make a girl blush sat there dead center of the great Hall.

The place was empty, not a soul to be seen not even the young latina girl who polishes the brass door knobs. This was unusual but it would not last for long, at any moment the doors would fly open the Concierge would strike a pose and the bartenders would start the night with a drink of their own. At any moment this place would look alive. Until then . . .there was time to clean up the mess.

Brass tap danced across the black marble floors reflecting the muzzle flashes like distant lightning. The muffled thump, thump, thump of silenced pistols echoed like thunder in the large vacancy of cold space. Men stood there and smiled with no concern of their own. There was no lack of overkill, no failure to make sure the job was done. Nobody would mistake this scene, not in their life. When the crimson tide of blood spilled out in a warm, steamy lake on the icy, marble, dance floor the men stood still and let the wave of death wash their black leather shoes in despair. That Evil sinister laughter still can be traced in the darkest corners of the haunted hall. That laughing horror who called the shots and killed the ancient founders.

There they lie, still captured in that last desperate moment when they knew the truth when at last the secret was revealed and all the lies like bones of skeletons left out of the closet.

Leather like a mortal shield wrapped around her. Holding her beyond the pale, a shred of lace in his steely grip a defiant stare in his dead face.

Lace shackled in agony her soft eyes still and quiet her breath no more, her gentle voice only an eerie painful shadow in your mind. Curled up beneath him though no more protected than glass behind paper.

Now is left only the mystery, only the trail of blood and murder, only the legacy of our own beginning. Yet where there lies a clue we will peer into the eyeglass, we will reveal the misplaced fingerprint and discover the source of our eager vengeance.

Then when the moment is right and all the clues have brought us before the guilty we will pass down judgement and lay to rest at long last Our beloved

Leather and Lace.

He was still smiling when he came around the corner pistol smoking in his hand.

"Give me your Gun." My voice was smooth like crystal not the slightest care not the hint of alarm. Business as usual. My eyes settled on the young punk in the Hellions getup. He paused a second and looked back at me now a bit surprised.

" My gun? No way Lady . . ."

Sometimes I allow for ignorance in the young. Other times . . .

He never had the time to scream I could not afford the attention of the others. This was nothing. . . .I do this every day. Those thoughts held my chin up even though I could feel my body ready to collapse. I took his gun and I could feel the last of my blood source drain through my mind leaving me empty cold and weak. I would need to feed soon. Strange I thought, how could I be so Effected by her by . . .him. The Dead know no remorse.

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