"Very," Mitch was glad to see his old firend in such good spirits. "Follow me," he begins to walk towards the americar. The smell of a freshly dead corpse no matter how many he made was simply something Mitch could never develop a stomach for, Marcus however lived for it. He could tell that his friend was having to use a substancial amount of self-control to keep from simply ripping the trunk open while Mitch got Tatsu to pop the trunk. Even then he still had the body out and under arm before Mitch could even turn around.

Marcus stood body under hand and looked at Tatsu in the car.

"No you can't eat him, he's my friend plus he eats to many onions," Mitch said this loudly so that both Marcus and Tatsu would hear. He wasn't really sure what kind of diet Tatsu had but he did remember that Marcus didn't really care for onions.

"Ok he safe then," he made a face of obvious distaste at the mention of onions.

"don't eat it too fast or you'll get indigestion, we'll see about that fresh and young one later," he pauses and looks into the americar and continues quieter, "when there's not someone else with us." Both trolls smile at this, and Marcus fades back into the shadows. Mitch thought that that was something like the poor Geats, had seen after Grendel left from his latest feeding frenzy, and that wasn't too off was it.

no it's not. He is grendel, the walker of the world's wierd wall, destroyer of all. Except Beowulf couldn't touch good ol' Marcus, could he? He would be more of a dessert than a challenge really.

Mitch laughed heartily out loud at that thought and slowly, ever watchful that some of Marcus's kin with less manners decide that they themselves needed a midnight snack, got into the americar.

05:37: Survivor's shack

Survivor listened to what Bad Bones had to say. "So, the pack expanding their territory? You want that building cleared, I 'ssume you want it intact, so no playing with fire. What kind of condition should it be in when I'm done? How many people there now? How big's the place? Whose territory is it in? Have you got anyone else working on this, or am I going lone?"

01:21:42 Loveland, 5th and Hedgegrove

The Americar slips away into the night, languid and low from the weight of Legion.

"He looked hungry." Tatsu turns from the wheel to make this understatement. He slowly grins at Mitch before looking again to the road.

He had forgotten that Mitch's friend was a troll. The ghoul aspect is what had stuck hardest in his head back at Silcox. Inside, he had heard rumours about the beast, but he had never shared a cellblock with Marcus. He had expected a wretched creature, ashamed of its appetite. Instead, he had glimpsed an unabashed monster.

A quick conversation.

He glances back at Mitch and notes that years of friendship with the Serpent and dietary habits aside, there was not too much separating this troll from that one. He had seen Mitch moody and brooding before, even sensed a darkness that radiated from the thug in waves. He is just as capable of violence as that thing back there, Tatsu has witnessed it before.

He wheels the Americar through their turf like a shark through dark water and soon they find themselves back at the Serpent's party. The pair stroll back in and the crowded party reminds Mitch that as an honored guest, he should stick around some more. They rock on, to the brink of dawn.

"Its good to be back," Mitch said before seperating from Tatsu. Mitch had never been one for moderation but he felt it best none the less to take it easy his first night out. After the party started to thin out, and the mob of people grew quieter, he decided it was time to hit the sack. It was four am by the clock on the wall over the door when he walked out, and fishing for his keys he hopped on his bike. The roar of the BMW could be heard even over the stil pulsing music of the party, it was a beamer, but by god it was carburated. Mitch pulled out of the lot knowing that he hadn't given Tub's back his keys.

eh, he's too drunk anyway

The small place he called home had at one time been a small pirate radio station, and still had the large transmitter on top. It was of course useless, the FCC when they busted the previous owners had removed anything that could get it working again, but Mitch still liked to think of how totally awsome it would be to have his own station.

Ah now to clean up, again

Taking off the bloody clothes and putting them in the trash can, there was no way he'd be able to remove blood, Mitch proceeded to the shower. While he wasn't able to get the blood of his clothes he was able to remove it from his white hair. And as the final drops fell out of the shower head, he sat down on the couch, still wet and butt naked.

Now where's that joint, long coat[/b]

He stands back up, and walks into the bathroom, hoping to hell that it wasn't broken. He hadn't throw away the Long coat even though it still had alot of blood on it too, it was too much of momento to get rid of. Besides it wasn't the first time it was covered in blood, and certainly wouldn't be the last. Fishing around in the pocket he produced what he was looking for, and to his luck it was completely unscathed.

The acrid smoke slowly filled the small house and Mitch's conciousness sleeps deeper and deeper into what he liked the call the abyss. Floating aimlessly around a large theatre all the while a movie of what his body is doing palys on the screen. Occasionally he'll stop and make some obscure refrence to the on screen action.

[i]Man, I crawl into bed the same exact way

As the pot reachs it's zenith Mitch slowly drifts into sleep, ever looking forward to the dreams that come.

01:02:16 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut Shop

Tatsu has his cup refilled a second time with steaming coffee. It tasted incredibly good, and he has been looking forward to relaxing in a booth with a cup at the Kenya Donut Shop for about four years. The African drumbeats in the atmospheric music, the painted wooden masks lining the walls and the rubber plants between the booths lent the cafe a bit of a tribal witchdoctor appeal. He wondered if Hênni still stopped by here from time to time to assense the place.

He recalls when this place was not even in Serpent territory, when a couple triad cells ran amok in the area, ramped up on the NovaCoke that was being pushed to them by the mafia. What a fragging mess it was, until Kaze decided to push the Serpent turf north. There was a lot of head cracking and worse, but hell, here we are. It was going on six years since Tatsu himself had sprayed over the triad's marker on the crete at the front door and replaced it with the Serpent's 7, marking the donut shop as protected by the gang. He could no longer make it out as he entered, noticing instead the mark etched into the plastiglass on the door.

Rageb Odumbe, the immigrant from the donut shop's namesake had seen two of his six children die in the street violence before the Serpents had stepped in to claim the area and Tatsu remembers the night that Bad-Bones and himself had delivered the triad gunman responsible, badly beaten, to Rageb's backdoor.

He checks his watch and observes he has a few more minutes to lounge before Dane and Lee show. His 'morning' was brief, mostly he had attempted to not wake Blame as he left, who was sleeping off all the plum wine she had drank toward the end of last night's party. Tatsu had packed up her audio equipment into her van, and when he had returned to collect her, he had found her passed out on the couch next to Herbie, a U.B.C. troll. They pulled into the apartment complex just after sunrise, and Tatsu caught about four hours of sleep. when he had arrived at the donut shop, he had scrubbed up in the restroom, splashing cold water repeatedly on his face and swishing it around in his mouth. It had not immediately helped. His grog was finally dismissed after the second cup of coffee and third donut.

10:30:55 Tacoma Docks [Phone call between Henni and Reston]

"Ye' Laddy I git sumptin fer ye'. Guarentee me ah cut from dah top an ye'll git a juicy one." "I got ah cargo of cigarettes, my cut from the top or no manifest number"

01:04:00 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut Shop

Walking into the donut shop, Lee quickly spotted Tatsu and began striding towards him. It had been a typical morning for him. After his morning workout, mediation, and tea with Cassandra, he had walked her to the neighborhood library where she worked.

Amazingly enough, the place hadn't been burned to the ground by the local gangs, but someone had explained to him that it was a truce area, of sorts, since mostly kids (those who could be bothered to learn and do useless things like, oh, get an education) were there. Generally speaking the place rarely got trouble and for obvious reasons, there was a distinct shortage of people able and/or willing to work there.

For Cassandra however, it was a quiet, peaceful place to work and think, and generally just be low-key as she struggled to work through the horrific events of the past several years.

Clearing his head from that thought, Lee mentally reviewed his performance at the gun range. He'd been practicing religiously every day, knowing that firearms training was not his strongest point when he arrived at the gang, but knowing it was necessary just the same.

Afterwards, he always followed dropping Cassandra off with a walk through the Serpents turf. He wanted to make it a point to memorize every building, street, alley, and inch of their territory. New to the area and the streets, he wanted every edge he could scrounge up, and knowing his own turf was definitely one of them.

By now, he had a good feeling for the terrain, but he continued his morning routine out of discipline and the desire to ensure it was burned into his memory. Plopping himself down across from his fellow ganger, he said simply, "Hey."

After placing order with the waitress for a glass of water, he sipped it carefully and asked, "So what have you been up to today?"

11:30:00 Mitch's route seven home

The dreams that came were indescribable, violent colors waging war on darkness full to the brim with a maniac laughter. Echoing, booming across the multi-hued sky was a great beast, it wasn't a dragon infact Mitch couldn't really tell what it was. As if sensing his gaze the giant thing swooped close to him, and suddenly he recognized it, it was the face he looked at each time he went to the mirror. The giant demon version of himself pulled it's massive sword out of it's sheeth and began cutting through everything inside. Unable to stand by and watch himself destroy all that he somehow knew he had built, Mitch drew his own sword and began to fight the beast.

It was an epic battle Mitch met himself, Legion, blow for blow, until finally, after what seemed like an eternity of slashing and swinging Mitch's own sword broke cleanly in half. As his demonic figure loomed over his now defenseless body the thing flung it's sword high over head ready for the finish. As the sword dropped Mitch closed his eyes preparing for the end. But it did not come, instead when he opened his eyes to see if he was still alive, he found himself naked curled up in the middle of his kitchen floor, body covered in sweat.

Shocked and the extremely vivid dream he just had, Mitch pulled himself up with the counter and staggered to the bedroom. The pot's effects had worn off as he slept but he still felt little tendrils of thier influence. Putting on his work clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, he grabs his cell phone and puts in a call to Kaze.

"Kaze, now that I'm back are thier anyone who is late or past due," he asked, not waiting for a response he continued, "I've got some errands to run this morning but after that the day is yours."

The errands for the day, were simple, let all his buddies know he's back, and find Marcus something fresher, he needed every edge he could get if a war was coming.

13:07:22 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut shop
The worn out waitress, easily pushing into here late 40's slides a glass of dingy colored liquid towards Lee. As you look at the glass and up towards her, she speaks without removing the cigarette from her mouth." What? you expecting Avion?"


11:32:15 [Phone conversation between Kaze and Legion]

Yeah, do what you need to do first, then deal with the pimp on 120th...if he's working the street it's time for him to pay.

"Sweet, hoes my favorite type of collecting," Mitch grinned eagerly. Hanging up the phone he decided it's time to get rolling. Grabbing his operating gear and his keys Mitch makes his way to his bike.


12:29:32 Barrens, Corner of 86th and broadway
Cruising into the nieghborhood Mitch suddenly remembered he was on a bike.

drek how are you supposed to grab a girl on your hog

"It's a BMW but what ev-," suddenly a great idea popped into Mitch's head.

That pimp is still operating, why not use one of his girls one of the younger ones, the elven ones.[/b]

"Yeah two birds with one stone, get some cash tell the pimp you want some for free for your troubles, a young one, the bam take her over to Marcus," Mitch couldn't help but laugh at this new almost evil idea, and began to draw comparisions between himself and his ghoul friend. All things eventual right?

[i]But it's true, it's a fine line between you and him. Your both merciless killers he just doesn't waste the body like you do, which in a way makes you worse than him.

"No time for thoughts like that now, we've got some bodies to make, or at least put these gloves to use," he tightened his grip on the throttle to drive the point home. Turning the bike around Mitch makes a B-line to 120th street.

12:48:26 120th after a bite to eat

This is the place now were's that pimp

Mitch had always hated pimps, the way the treat thier girls and took the cash from thier snatch, it made him sick. But it was all a nessicary part of this city, besides hookers gotta work too. The pimp stood doing the junkie shuffle just slightly down figeroa off 120th, ladies not in sight.

Perfect, he's alone

Parking the bike just slightly around the corner from the pimp, or at least were he couldn't see it, but were it was still in running distance if things got hairy, Mitch did a mental inventory of his gear and then proceeded around the corner to the scum he had dealings with.

"Sweet, hoes my favorite type of collecting," Mitch grinned eagerly. Hanging up the phone he decided it's time to get rolling. Grabbing his operating gear and his keys Mitch makes his way to his bike.


12:29:32 Barrens, Corner of 86th and broadway
Cruising into the nieghborhood Mitch suddenly remembered he was on a bike.

drek how are you supposed to grab a girl on your hog

"It's a BMW but what ev-," suddenly a great idea popped into Mitch's head.

That pimp is still operating, why not use one of his girls one of the younger ones, the elven ones.[/b]

"Yeah two birds with one stone, get some cash tell the pimp you want some for free for your troubles, a young one, the bam take her over to Marcus," Mitch couldn't help but laugh at this new almost evil idea, and began to draw comparisions between himself and his ghoul friend. All things eventual right?

[i]But it's true, it's a fine line between you and him. Your both merciless killers he just doesn't waste the body like you do, which in a way makes you worse than him.

"No time for thoughts like that now, we've got some bodies to make, or at least put these gloves to use," he tightened his grip on the throttle to drive the point home. Turning the bike around Mitch makes a B-line to 120th street.

12:48:26 120th after a bite to eat

This is the place now were's that pimp

Mitch had always hated pimps, the way the treat thier girls and took the cash from thier snatch, it made him sick. But it was all a nessicary part of this city, besides hookers gotta work too. The pimp stood doing the junkie shuffle just slightly down figeroa off 120th, ladies not in sight.

Perfect, he's alone

Parking the bike just slightly around the corner from the pimp, or at least were he couldn't see it, but were it was still in running distance if things got hairy, Mitch did a mental inventory of his gear and then proceeded around the corner to the scum he had dealings with.

13:09:46 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut shop

He does not immediately respond to Lee's question. Instead, he pushes an open box of the highly acclaimed fresh donuts across the table and toward the other ganger. There are ten remaining donuts and they radiate warmth. Briefly dipping his Zenka shades low enough to reveal red-rimmed, but alert, eyes. Tatsu confesses, "Still trying to wake up. The coffee helps." in a volume only slightly lower than his norm. He raises his cup, saluting the counter and its congenial attendant before taking a gulp. "I spent the last couple weeks with a coffee afficianado and I think that I too have become dependent on the stuff. Blame brews some vanilla drek up in the mornings but it just does not cut it for me. This place has been brewing a good cup for as long as I have lived, and I have only recently learned to appreciate it." He indicates Lee's cup, "They filter the water to make the coffee... but that looks like it is straight from the tap."

He grins around his cup, "I heard some stories about you last night, about the Week of Vengeance. It is good to hear that you have some fangs. Thank you for aiding the boss while I was unable."

Setting his coffee down on the table, he makes a show of checking his watch and remarks, "Before our talk turns to the chop-shop, I must ask you something. Have you reviewed the finances?"

"You lookin' fo sum action man," the junkie pimp questioned Mitch.

"I don't know how's buisness," Mitch says slowly backing the pimp into a corner, and putting his right arm over the pimp's shoulder on the wall behind him. At first the pimp didn't recognize Legion but once he started talking he all the sudden remembered who this giant troll was.

"Your in trouble my friend," Mitch continued without waiting for him to respond," you owe us a decent stack of cash, what am I going to have to do about that?" Mitch loved harrassing pimps they deserved it so much more then the guy who decided to open up a store in the wrong part of town. Grabbing the ork by the collar, he drags him into an allyway to draw less attention, all the while trying to keep his muscles flexed to give the impression of greater strength.

The Pimp stares back at Legion with defiant eyes and mutters." Get your filthy Trog paws off me" He bows up his shoulders as he fixes his collar on his trench coat.


The Pimp slides his hand from his collar to just below chest level and throws the coat back to revel a shiny revolver, with pearl handles." What?, you son of a slitch!, what you got say about that now?"

13:11:06 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut shop

Accepting the glass of 'water', if you could call it that, from the waitress, Lee takes a cautious sip, and then decides spending is the better side of prudence, and orders an iced tea instead. When the waitress leaves, he regards Tatsu silently for a moment. "No, I have not looked over the finances at all. I was unaware that I would be...'promoted' to this position until last night. It was as much a surprise to me as anyone else."

Upon her return with his order, he idly begins swirling his iced tea with his straw. "And while I would like to accept your compliment with good graces, I must decline. The Week of Vengeance was a horrific week, according to everything I've heard about it, and no one really knows who is responsible for it." He grins, in what could best be described as a 'death's head' grin. "And I, being new to the streets myself, have no idea who could possibly be responsible for so many deaths in such a short period of time. A fortunate coincidence, it would seem, that enemies of our gang just mysteriously keeled over and died suddenly."

He shakes his head in mock sympathy. "Surely all their sins and hard living caught up with them, and they paid the price the fortunes decreed they ought to for their worthless lives."

Leaning back and taking a sip of his tea, Lee finished with a smile, "I would never dream of taking 'credit' for so many heinous acts, I am merely a simple ganger seeking to assist his gang in any way possible."

I wonder how he will respond...I am sure he knows the truth, but let us see how he responds to this. A good assassin will not allow his ego to take credit that would bring undue attention upon himself. I am no assassin, although perhaps I am now...still, practice is essential to becoming what you seek to be, and if my path has called me down the road of the assassin, I may as well be practicing...

Silent, Lee sips his iced tea as he awaits the response of his companion.

Mitch had never been known to have a cool head when threatened, and that's exactly what was going on now.

calm buddy boy calm, his weapon is still holstered. be quiet about it.

"Yeah this time we'll play it quiet," Mitch grits his teeth and gets ready to smash some heads, he wasn't about to let this scumbag call him a slitch.

Mitches' hook catches the pimp on the chin even as he attempts to step back and dodge it. The obviously hard blow torques the pimps neck and throws his body out of position. The chrome revolver fires once into the pavement, missing by a mile.

13:13:21 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut shop

Tatsu erupts, "Zakkenayo! What the hell is wrong with you? If you had not done these things, you would not be a Serpent! Why the hell else would I be sitting here with you?"

With a warm chuckle, he shakes his head. Just like that, he is cool again, "The guys said that you were much too modest about this, to the point of denial. Listen, most on the streets are not able to see around this modesty, and may not see the strength where it lies. This could cause some problems for you. Of course I am not saying you should go around boasting about your feats, just that you should accept praise where it is due."

Over a sip of coffee, Tatsu considers, "I suppose you are only downplaying your accomplishment because you have already been recognized for it and it serves no more purpose for you to take credit. Keep in mind that my thanks come in a belated fashion. You should allow for my absence during that time before discarding my congratulations. As you seem to will it, I will not mention it so directly again."

10:35:42 Tacoma Docks [Phone call between Henni and Reston]

"Ye' Laddy I git sump’tin fer ya'. Guaranteed me ah cut from dah top an ye'll git a juicy one." "I got ah cargo of cigarettes, my cut from the top or no manifest number" Reston

The Rasta laughs "Been on dem' rigs for to long môn, of couse I be cutt'en ya' in on diss'. Long time for I been locked in a coop. Giv'ên 10%, from da'deal." He looks out the bedroom window as he speaks. " Be need'ôn more body'z ta' grip ah truck of dat' size môn...." There is a pause as Reston answers "T'ank yeah Rez'ton. Call'in wit' your cut môn, sooner 'den lat'or" He thanks the dwarf after getting the ID of a Roadmaster, and the route it is shipping its cargo.



10:45:24 Loveland Lakes Apartment #305

No sooner then Rasta hangs up with Reston he begins to dial up the number that will get him in touch with Johnny


While speaking Hênni grasps the Ares Predator off his bed, ejects the clip and clears the chamber. He has never been one for violence, a somewhat pacifist in his own right yet these streets will claim those who are not equipped.

Once all the pieces are in motion the Rastafarian seizes his keys and gears up for he day.


13:20:24 Kenya’s Donut Shop

Hênni Walks through the door to the small shop, a piece of paper folded into his left hand. A large hibiscus flower in his right “’ello ta’ ya’ Momma” He yells out to the large African lady behind the counter working hard to fill orders.

“Well, Well… been some time, an you yah’ not even called.” She replies in a joking manner.

He searches the small shop, then spots Tatsu and Lee sitting in a booth already engauged in conversation.

“Send’on a Soycaff™ Rota an one o’ ‘dem twist’ad sweet pastries. Not’ been call’in, been on business, sorry shombee’ Jah’ be de’ only one for I and I.” He jokes back handing Rota the flower turns and makes his way to the Serpent's table.
The Jamaican stands at the foot of your table, waiting for your conversation to end. He gives a serious look as if he will begin in with reprimands. Then smiles widely and slides into a space next to Tatsu. “Gott’en some business for us all.” He sets the folded piece of paper down on the table. If any reach for it, all he will give as an answer is “Not’ time for dat’ now, first we drink ôn talk of easier t’ings.”
“Got’ Johnn’e blaze' (his name for Bull) on da’ line. Hop’en dat’ he could join us soon.” There is something going on, something that he is holding back. Yet that is the way with Rasta, even though his news is hot Hênni will hold tongue until the time is right.

The serving girl comes up with a warm cup of brew and a Swirled pastry smelling of sweet cinnamon. “T’ank ya’.” He hands her the amount for his order, plus a little additional.

This place constantly made him feel right at home. It was a mix off all the things he loved, atmosphere of his roots, dub-sounds playing in the back ground, and good food and drink. Yes he was glad Tatsu desired this place for his meeting. The Yardy leans back against the cushion starting his breakfast, listening to Lee and Tatsu continuing what they had to say.

Finish him, take what he's got then cut his head off.



"Nah no need to kill em', if I do that he won't be able to make me anymore money," Mitch says throwing his world famous killer left uppercut. His old Yakuza buddies had called it his "dragon's fist" but, Mitch had never liked that name, it had just kinda stuck with him.

The left upper cut impacts squarely on the pimps face, which was already turning purple. The pimp's body goes limp and crumples into heap at Legions feet.
The pimp is breathing but it is labored and a smal pool of blood is forming on the dirty concrete around his head. Behind you, you hear a womans scream." You son a slitch what you do to Pookie?

"It's just buisness babe, if he cooperates he's fine, if not," Mitch shrugs and pops his neck.

"You wouldn't be interested in doing me a favor would ya," Mitch leans towards the girl and puts on his best charm.



"Of course I'll pay you for your time," grinning wide he picks up the pimp's body and places it delicately in the dumpster.

what are you going to do with that body, it's bleeding all over the place and won't stay in that dumpster.

"Tubs," Mitch pulls out his cell phone and puts in a call to Tubs.

"Hey buddie you alive and kickin," mitch asks over the phone.

"Yeah hey buddie, do you still have my keys," Tubs[b] sounds like he's still got a pretty decent hangover.

crap you do have his keys

"yeah I'll bring em by on my way back, we've got some buisness to attemd to," [b]Mitch pushes trash over the unconcious body to cover it up.

The Hooker stands there almost defiantly, full of attitude she says." You know we have problems with rats here. You just going to leave him there like that?"

13:25:12 Phone call to Tatsu

13:13:21 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut shop

Lee chuckles softly at his fellow gangers outburst. Nonetheless, he nods his head in acquiesence. "As you wish. Thank you for your congratulations. And you are correct, to a point. I prefer allowing people to speculate on what I may or may not have done, and on what I may or may not be capable of. I see no purpose in allowing them to accurately assess either myself or my capabilities."

Sipping his tea, he continues, "But you are correct, I have not yet become in tune with the fact that you are a fellow Serpent, and as such, are not necessarily in the category of those who I wish to keep in the dark. Feel free to mention it as you wish, but be aware I will rarely, if ever, directly respond to it, unless it furthers a good purpose. I prefer allowing others to guess the truth rather than know it. Especially matters such as those."

When the Rastafarian arrives, Lee nods in acknowledgement and looks over at Tatsu after the Yardy finishes his greeting. "So, you called us here. Perhaps you would care to enlighten us a bit more as to this meeting's purpose?"

"It's only until I can get a car to pick him up," Mitch looks at the hooker worried, "He'll be fine so long as he cooperates." "You didn't answer my question," Mitch smiles again, "I'll tell you what I'll triple your regular fee if you are willing to do it."

You really need this girl to come willing, or else how will you transport her on your bike?

"Alright, I promise to leave your pimp alive, if you just do me this one 'service', but I can't promise he safety otherwise."


Thats good, scary the poor girl into it, that will work.

07:39 Survivor's Shack

Survivor naps for a bit after Bad Bones leaves, letting ideas for clearing out an apartment building percolate through his head. Bad Bones hadn't told him how many of those apartments had been occupied, so there might be as many as 48 occupied units. He might need to call in a few more of the Serpents, if the situation warrented it. First however, he'd need to actually case the joint himself.

He cruised around the block a couple of times on his bike, testing the air, checking out the building and the neighborhood, gauging just what sort of tatics he'd be able to get away with.

13:16:38 Loveland, Broadway Ave and 112th Street, Kenya Donut shop

Tatsu rubs at the back of his heavily tattooed left hand, and considers Lee's response. With a gentle tone he cautions, "Discretion is one thing I have learned to understand, but secrets... Be careful with secrets, brother. They are always double edged swords."

He swirls the last few sips around his coffee cup for a few beats and then he belts out in instruction, "Your handheld is the financial lifeblood of the Serpents. I know that it only became your responsibility just over twelve hours ago but it needs your immediate attention. You need to replace the cred that Four-Stroke had skimmed and make sure that he did not frag things up too badly."

He thumps his forefinger against the table and continues, "With the income you will begin to receive, you have got to make sure everyone on the books gets their weekly pay. That is after the boss gets his taste. Also, it is not just Serpents you have to concern yourself with. We have got PO's to pay off too. The parolees, like myself, have to kick to them from our personal take. All of the exact figures are in your pocsec. You'll have to prepare the PO's payment in cash and make the weekly drop yourself. Kaze made you the bagman because he trusts that you will take the duty seriously."

"After you get the numbers current, I need help with setting up a kigyo shatei. We need a front company to run this cred through..." He pauses and gives a grin toward the door. As Hênni and Rota speak with each other, Tatsu continues with Lee, "The boss wants to expand the turf. We will. That means we need to put together a war chest to keep Bad-Bones financed properly. So we have to make the current operations more efficient and come up with some more money. The chopshop will help, in a couple of ways, but we still need to earn more."

Tatsu turns his shades toward Hênni, sternly hovering at the table's edge. He makes room for the holy man when his facade cracks. He grabs at the slip of paper when Hênni mentions some business, but lets it go after the Jamaican advises it. Tatsu can sense that he has some hot news he's dying to share but it sounds like Hênni won't leak it until Johnny shows up.

When prompted to make some small talk, he decides to relate an anecdote that he heard last night while throwing dice with Herbie the Clockstopper. The U.B.C. crew boss had spent the last couple of nights in massage parlours, a luxury that he cannot usually afford. When Tatsu pressed the grim Asian troll, he explained that Knucklehead Durant, also a U.B.C. troll, had played in an executive card game a few nights back. As the night wore on, the poker players gradually lost out to an elf and Knucklehead. The game went back and forth between these two for the next couple of hours, no clear winner in sight. So Knucklehead got as loud-mouthed as his hosts would allow. He told jokes, complained about his hand, made idle threats and was generally repulsive. The elf grew weary of Knucklehead's company and tried some sort of mojo. The hosts of the game quickly escorted the elf out and turned his winnings over to Knucklehead by default. He walked away with over sixteen large.

Suddenly, the sounds of sex interrupts the conversation. Tatsu sniffs. He produces a sleek mobile phone from inside of his sharkskin suit jacket. He checks the caller info while the pornographic audio file continues to play for a few moments. Then, he answers with an abbreviated, close-mouthed grunt. This is apparently understood as a signal for the caller to chatter away at a painfully high volume. His head tilts and he distances the phone from his ear, Brenda's voice streaming from his phone speaker is perfectly audible to all at the table. He thumbs the volume control down and soon, he has swapped the phone for his pocket secretary. He taps away at it for a few moments before he asks, "Where the frag is James?"

13:20:22 Loveland

The hooker brushes past the huge troll. Opening the dumpster she calls out." You ok?" " Help me get him out of there you big........"

After a quick look at his Cellphones LED, his visage goes abit dull.
"Ha' t'ings 'ave changed da' course of 'dis day. Rez'ons only for one'z of Zion ta' know why. Shame' " As the Rasta speaks he slides the paper to the center of the table.

Natty parchment



After a few more sips of his hot brew, Hênni trades glances from Tatsu to Lee.
This time when he speaks, his voice gets soft so that only the two of this table would be able to hear him (that is if any one else could even understand him)

"Will not o'ldôn no fasle'z truth'z 'ere. 'Dat t'was ment for Dane ôn Johnne' blaze. Not ta' be see'on what just happ'ond till now, as Advis'or in de' wayz of Nattee, t'it would be wise no to' let 'dat truck leave 7 terf w'it out becom'ing lit'er." His eyes narrow "All de' way LIT'er."
The filtered light of Seattles afternoon spilled through the shades of the Donut Shop. Slow fans shifted smoked filled air in wavy dances.

He frowns then... "Yett' to'war bess' op'tion for 'dis are out O' da' loop."
He shrugs.......... "Tiss' da wayz at timez'."

" 'de dready (speaking of himself in third person for some reason) will go wit' yah', goo'od fund'z ta' be had 'ere. Ôn Kaze been need'on some ta' push up."

"Consider dis'."

Hênni Goes back to his Soycaff™ and Twisted pastery. The ettequite of speaking out of turn in this situation may have been lacking. Yet with the new news of Dane and Bull's departure it trough some of this meetings gears of kilter. Better to shift them and keep moving, That's Jamaican Ettequite!

Mitch sighs.

Your going to have to ride your bike across the territory with some screaming crazy hooker on back. No, not on back put her in front of you so you can keep her in line

"I really didn't want to do it this way, but you leave me no choice," Mitch says grabbing a handful of the hooker's hair and dragging her away from the dumpster. "Your used to it right toots," he puts on his nastiest snarl revealing his yellowed and disgusting teeth," you can come with me quietly, or you can come with me unconcious, your choice." Mitch quickly snapped her head back so she was looking him in the eyes and looked for an indication of compliance.

The Hookers look of defiance melts away quickly, it is replaced with a look of worry and nervousness. The look fades to a smile of sorts as she tells you."Anyway you want it, anyway you want it is fine with me."

"You can come back and treat his wounds after were done, if you still feel like it," it wasn't quiet a lie but Mitch still hoped she'd buy it. "Alright glad to have you on-," the vibrating of his earbud cell interupted him mid sentence. Placing his hand on the oversized ear unit Mitch hits the button that takes him to his voice mail.

You have one new text message: Johnny picked up by star Dane at free clinic...poisoned

Mitch sighs and adds a few stops to his list of things he needed to do today. "Come on toots, lets make tracks," his grip had lightened on her hair while he checked his messages and now all together let go. "I'm parked around the corner," he said gesturing in the direction of his bike.

"Sure hon, lets make this quick I've got other people to see today and we still have to take care of pookie," Mitch hadn't taken the time to look at her up to this point and doing do now was glad he hadn't. Her hair was filthy, the grease held it in the short spikes she wore it in without any additional support. The clothes she wore were disgusting as well skirt so short you could seen he underwear, which was leopard print and she had no top aside from a leopard print bra. She was wearing fishnet tights that looked like they had seen the wringer and were covered in large tears and holes. It was obvious to Mitch that "Pookie" didn't run an upscale buisness. The pimp no doubt strung the girls along with cheap BTLs or heroin and made damn sure no body but him dealt to his girls. He would have his fun with the pimp later after marcus had his fill with the hooker.

He lead the trashy slut back to his bike hoping like hell none of the other gangers saw him with her, she was a living epitome of the dregs of society. He put the girl in front of him on the bike for two reasons, so he could make sure she didn't try anything funny, and so she wouldn't suspect his other motives. With his legacy so close to her she would start gearing up for her normal gig, getting her come hither face all warmed up and ready for display for her eager customer.

As the bike rumbled across the the gang's territory Mitch tried to take back streets and allyways to keep out of sight. When the deli that Marcus called home was in view he hammered down on the throttle to wake up the sleeping ghoul.

In the daylight the delicatesen looked menacingly evil, it's broken and boarded up windows told tales that shouldn't be heard. The front portion of the building was crumbling and the roof had caved in in some of the more visible sections of the deli.

"Here," the hooker asked rolling her eyes.

"Yeah I've always wanted to," he was playing her right into his hand, he hoped.

"I've made it in worse," she used a sort of sarcasm that Mitch was confused by, she no doubt had, but he just wasn't sure why she'd said it.

Riding the bike around the back, he dismounted helping the girl from his seat making a mental note to clean it off later. He took her by the arm firm but not to hard, and guided her into the building.

"Anybody home," he bellowed into the abandoned deli, waiting for a response from Marcus.

Marcus answers from the back of the Deli."Back here chummer." The hooker looks up at you and flatly tells you." I charge double for trolls and if this is going be more than you my fee goes up." Marcus's superior senses pick up her words, replying marcus says." Dont worry, it's going to be the most intense moment of your life. Hey you think you could have found a cleaner one?" The hooker obviously offended offers." Listen you Trog......." Marcus appears from a doorway cutting of her speech. Marcus is far faster than you might of expected, covering 16 feet in a blink of an eye. Snatching the Hooker by the neck in his huge hands he lifts her chokingly up to his face. Smilling he looks at you." I'm going to play with her first, if you want to stay." " You cant get the virus that way so its safe.....at least for you." He says that last bit staring at you.

"I'll have a seat, while you have your fun," Mitch had never actually watched Marcus eat and for good reason, but he needed the information the giant troll had. He found a pile of rubble that looked suitable and waited for Marcus to finish up.

As the ghoul finished "playing" with her, it was more of a sick beating them play really, Mitch nearly lost his lunch when Marcus took his first crunching bite. The tusks common to most trolls served thier purpose with sickening efficiency, tearing flesh and tendons like they were paper. The frenzy slowed as a great pool of blood began to form on the floor and mitch assumed she had bled out. As the blood had drained out of the hooker's body her body went stiff and her face froze in a perpetual scream of terror. Mitch had always hated that face, still and motionless staring back at you with glazed eyes, begging for help.

Dropping the body on the ground like it was an empty wrapper for some demonic fast food chain, Marcus began to pick his teeth.

"She's not going to become a ghoul is she," Mitch asked trying to keep himself from vomiting. Sure he had bones tattooed all over his hand, almost to his elbow, and before he joined the 7S he would likely have a full skeletal structure by now, but the brutal unattached consumtion of flesh still stirred fundamental fears inside him.

"Probably not, there's not enough left," the ghoul smiled as he pulled a substancial sized chunk of flesh from between his tusks. He was covered in blood which made him that much more menacing looking, and Mitch wondered if that was how he looked last night.

Marcus uses the sleeve of his coat to wipe his blood covered chin." Your enemy is poised to take you out. The plague bringers have been......recruiting. Heres an address, it holds there not so socialable members."

That is good intel, so at least the hooker wasn't eaten for nothing...

"Thanks Marcus, I'll have to do something about that," Mitch frowns at the though of all those things in a warehouse somewhere, "If you've got any friends in there, I'd strongly recommend you get them out soon."

It wasn't everyday that a rival gang decides to use ghouls as a weapon, and Mitch was now in a foul mood. He needed to play this one carefully, because some of the less rational members would see Marcus as a threat, after all he is 600kg of pure ghoul terror, he could probably have a fighting chance of taking out the whole gang provided Mitch sat it out. But he still needed to tell someone. Deciding it be best to go to Kaze about this, because he had a good head on his shoulders, and because he was after all, the leader.

"Lay low for a while, I don't want you getting caught up in all this," he was honestly worried about his friend, he wasn't sure of the resourcefulness of some of the newer guys so he wanted Marcus to play it nice and quiet until all this settled down.

"You not worry about me Mitch, I can take care of myself," The ghouls looked upset that Mitch had warned him, but he didn't care that ghoul was a close friend and he didn't want to see anything happen to him.

Mitch warned his friend again of being too active for the next couple of days, said goodbye, and walked out of the deli. His bike was parked just were he left it and Mitch was glad, the last thing he needed with two members down, and a violent attack in the works, was to have his bike stolen. The BMW roared to life as Mitch turned the key, and after waiting a few seconds to make sure it was running a good mixture, he was off. Still having his earbud cell on, he instructed the voice dial to call Kaze, he needed to tell the boss before it was too late.

"Mitch what do you need," to Mitch hearing Kaze's made him feel better some how.

"I've got some important news you need to hear, in person, it cannot wait," putting just the right amount of urgency in his voice, Mitch was sure he would have his meeting, "I want to run some intel I just picked up from Marcus by you, and then you'll want to tell everyone."

Kaze replies."I'm a little busy at the moment, but run it by the others in the donut shop.If it's real important then you chums can hand it to Bad Bones"

"It's so important that I'd like you to be the first to know, but I cannot say it over the phone, to may ears," never having been one to cry wolf Mitch wondered what could be so important to compromise the gang's way of life, but then Kaze didn't know it was that serious. "Alright donut shop it is but we HAVE to talk about this today and in person," Mitch was dead set that he was getting a meeting with the boss. Mitch hangs him earbud up by a tap to the side.

Drek drek drek, this could get bad fast.

Kenya Donut Shop

"Picked up by the Star? Why the frag do we bother to pay those swine?" Tatsu punches away furiously at his handheld while he rumbles, "That concludes today's chopshop planning session. Dane had better be okay."

The gangster turns back to Hênni, who has just slid the slip of parchment back to the fore and proposed a heist. "Okay Kurohebi, count me in. We could use that hotshot biker too, seeing how he was made official last night."

He suddenly remembers the bottle of sake he had been given the previous night, and notes that he will not be opening it among his friends tonight. There are too many obligations to fulfill before he can crack that bottle open. At least things are getting back to normal. All fragged up.

donut shop, good I could use a bit to eat, nothing runs down ones stamina like kicking the crap out of a pimp and then feeding one of his girls to a ghoul.

Mitch turned the beamer around and headed towards the donut shop, planning what he wanted to say, and order.

We need to play this one just right or Marcus might get evicted or worse. i wonder if they have bear claws I could go for about ten and a pot of coffee that'd be nice too.

It wasn't like Mitch to worry so much but this was a big thing and the life of his closest friend hung in the balance.

14:20:17 Kenya Donut Shop
The shiney black BMW Blitzen that Mitch had riden for the past six years rumbled to a stop outside of the Kenya Donut Shop. Parking his bike on the sidewalk next to the front door, a place Mitch had learned to park from his road trip between here and his home town of houston, he set the kickstand and headed in. Mitch hated places that didn't have high ceilings and had in his time "modified" a few to acomodate his stature, but this wasn't the time to argue metahuman access with a shop owner, this was buisness time. It didn't take long for him to spot the group he was looking for even hunched down like he was, and he walked over and plopped down on the ground indian style. Even sitting flat on the ground he was still as tall as most everyone else at the table and he say quietly waiting for them to finish what they were talking about and wonder why he was here.

14:20:49 Kenya Donut Shop

Glancing over at the big troll sitting on the floor, Lee asks, "What are you doing here, and why are you sitting on the floor?"

"Eh, I've broken my share of chairs and benchs so better safe then sorry," Mitch gestured to the seat occupied by lee. "As to why I'm here, thats another matter entirely, we've got a huge problem that could get even bigger if not left unchecked," a greivous expression fell over the big troll's face, "I would have taken it directly to the top, but Kaze was too busy this afternoon." Mitch leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, it was not the sturdiest of tables and groaned in objection as he applied a little weight.

"It would seem that certain people have amassed an army of ghouls, and are poised for a strike, if my source is correct they are located in an abandoned warehouse off 222nd," deciding that the poor table had enough to worry about, Mitch leaned back and watched the faces of those at the table abosorb the information.

The old bell that is on the front door rings as its swung open. Three FT's walk in Two Ork's and a Troll. Glancing at the Serpents they hesitate and talk quickly amongst themselves. The Owner of the Donut shop shouts out." Wast Dis...Yah know you go to da side window for service." A greasy haired Ork speaks up." It's hot out in we'd be in the sun." The Owner interjects." I want no trouble here." and glances at the Serpents congregrated near a booth.

The Ft's and the Serpents lock eyes in a old western style stare off.

Aw hell, these guys look like they are out for blood. Pity it'll be theirs they get.

Mitch shifted his weight subtly giving him easy access to his pistol, he didn't think he would need it for this but he wanted to be safe. The hardliner gloves he had on, still had traces of blood on them and he thought it would be a good idea to utilize them in this instance, if things got to out of control, hell maybe they didn't want to start anything and were just hungry. Thinking that Mitch suddenly remembered that he wanted a bearclaw, but any sudden movements by a 9 foot tall 750 pound troll were exactly hard to miss, and might be just the trigger to set them off.

"You guys should try the eclaires they're to die for," Mitch made a grand gesture of rubbing his stomach trying to tell them that maybe just this once thier run in with the 7S didn't have to end in blood shed.

14:21:49 Kenya Donut Shop

Someone's going to die today, I just feel it. Well if it is, it won't be us.

Casually, slowly, unobtrusively, and quietly unzipping the gym bag on the seat next to him, Lee prepares to jerk the SMG from its concealment and fire or leap over the table and go mano y mano with these jokers, whichever works best at the moment it all goes down.

14:21:49 Kenya Donut Shop

Tatsu had finished his coffee while Mitch had delivered the news to the crew. He slid the cup toward the edge for easy retrieval by the waitress. The threat of a small army of ghouls soon descending on the Serpents had not appeared to bother him in the least. The FT dogs straying into one of the holiest of holy places for the gangster does elicit a reaction.

He tilts his head a little sideways and directs a real hard rock stare toward the trespassing trio. A sense of duty roils up from inside him and he remembers his obligations here. As paid protectors of this shop, he knows that he and others must preserve the sanctity of these honest owner's business place. In order to represent the gang properly, Tatsu believes that this matter would better be settled outside.

Tatsu's words are not thundering loud but they weigh heavily on the ears. "Get lost."

The FT's check their resolve in eachothers faces and back out..quietly.