((Warning, occasional mature language))
Vita hated dressing up. The clothes were uncomfortable, bright, and extrodinarily feminine. With a spring blue cap that was snug around her head at an angle, it matched the jacket and skirt of her "business" attire. The sleeves just went past her elbows, the shoulders were poofy, and the buttons went diagonal with the cross cut. The skirt was pencil straight to below her knees, and the ensemble was topped off with white gloves, heeled shoes, and a medium-sized white handbag. She hoped no one stopped to ask her just what she was wearing, or where she bought it at, because Vita had no idea.
The streets were rather deserted at this time of day. Everyone had gotten off work and was more than likely sharing a meal at home with their family or at the local diner. It made the faint click-click sound of her heels one of the only audible sounds, except for when a car or carriage strolled along. Pulling out a folded paper from her pocket, she read the address over again, before turning down a wide alley. The setting sun still provided a great deal of light down the dirt path that she started down. There wasn't a single thought of the dirt leaving traces on the white leather of her shoes.
Painted lips gave a closed smile to a man that stepped down the staircase from a business building to her right. Though she knew little about the clothes that were placed on her, the man's suit gave away several signs. Double-breasted suit, full-cut trousers, and fine leather shoes, he might as well place a "money' neon sign across his forehead. As he reached the last stair, a hand went up to touch his gray fedora and bob is head down slightly in polite greeting while his other hand stilled the rocking motion of the briefcase.
"Stop that man! He has my money!" Vita heard the voice before she saw the running man. His face was obscured by his hat and a black bandana around his nose, with wide leather wallet as he ran. Frozen in place, a full second past before the elder man came limping behind him. He waved his cane in the air, and repeated his cry for help, "Stop that man, he has my money!"
Vita didn't see a gun on the running man, but she didn't want to particularly find out. She turned to the man with the briefcase with wide eyes, "Oh, please! Ya gotta help that man!" Just as the thief was close enough, he threw the briefcase at his knees. The man stumbled on the ground, dropped the wallet, and sped off.
"My money!" The elder man collasped onto the dirty ground, and Vita moved as quickly as she could in the heels and skirt, before leaning over and evaluating his condition.
"Sir, ya've been stabbed right inta yer pillar." Blood had already stained the white gloves, but she removed them anyway before looking further at his leg, "Gotta take ya to ta hospital. Ta johnny here's got yer greens."
"Ya gotta hankie" Old man's gotta leak in his pins and all." She turned her attention to the younger man as he squated next to her to evaluate the situation himself.
"Sure thin", dollface." He reached into his pocket to retrieve a plain hankie and Vita was quick and careful to bandage the bleeding leg as best as she could. "Name's Patrick, old man. What's the story, morning-glory??
Vita hated dressing up. The clothes were uncomfortable, bright, and extrodinarily feminine. With a spring blue cap that was snug around her head at an angle, it matched the jacket and skirt of her "business" attire. The sleeves just went past her elbows, the shoulders were poofy, and the buttons went diagonal with the cross cut. The skirt was pencil straight to below her knees, and the ensemble was topped off with white gloves, heeled shoes, and a medium-sized white handbag. She hoped no one stopped to ask her just what she was wearing, or where she bought it at, because Vita had no idea.
The streets were rather deserted at this time of day. Everyone had gotten off work and was more than likely sharing a meal at home with their family or at the local diner. It made the faint click-click sound of her heels one of the only audible sounds, except for when a car or carriage strolled along. Pulling out a folded paper from her pocket, she read the address over again, before turning down a wide alley. The setting sun still provided a great deal of light down the dirt path that she started down. There wasn't a single thought of the dirt leaving traces on the white leather of her shoes.
Painted lips gave a closed smile to a man that stepped down the staircase from a business building to her right. Though she knew little about the clothes that were placed on her, the man's suit gave away several signs. Double-breasted suit, full-cut trousers, and fine leather shoes, he might as well place a "money' neon sign across his forehead. As he reached the last stair, a hand went up to touch his gray fedora and bob is head down slightly in polite greeting while his other hand stilled the rocking motion of the briefcase.
"Stop that man! He has my money!" Vita heard the voice before she saw the running man. His face was obscured by his hat and a black bandana around his nose, with wide leather wallet as he ran. Frozen in place, a full second past before the elder man came limping behind him. He waved his cane in the air, and repeated his cry for help, "Stop that man, he has my money!"
Vita didn't see a gun on the running man, but she didn't want to particularly find out. She turned to the man with the briefcase with wide eyes, "Oh, please! Ya gotta help that man!" Just as the thief was close enough, he threw the briefcase at his knees. The man stumbled on the ground, dropped the wallet, and sped off.
"My money!" The elder man collasped onto the dirty ground, and Vita moved as quickly as she could in the heels and skirt, before leaning over and evaluating his condition.
"Sir, ya've been stabbed right inta yer pillar." Blood had already stained the white gloves, but she removed them anyway before looking further at his leg, "Gotta take ya to ta hospital. Ta johnny here's got yer greens."
"Ya gotta hankie" Old man's gotta leak in his pins and all." She turned her attention to the younger man as he squated next to her to evaluate the situation himself.
"Sure thin", dollface." He reached into his pocket to retrieve a plain hankie and Vita was quick and careful to bandage the bleeding leg as best as she could. "Name's Patrick, old man. What's the story, morning-glory??