Crash "Mind if I take a drag off that thing? I can sure as hell use it," he croaked, his throat suddenly parched. "And I could use some water.."

Hênni
"I do'on't see why not, 'ere yah' go'o." he hands Marty the J" allowing him, his turn in rotation.

"You're princ’aples hold jah’ ta’ pitty. Dat’ t’iss a good t’ing môn. Some ‘ere have lost dat’ long ago’o, try’ ta’ keep you’rz as long as ya’ côn. Take him for in’stônce” he motions in the direction of 4-Strokes

“ ‘E lost his by take’n from our family’, if ‘e had kept what ya’ got go’oing now’ inside. Maybe ‘e’ed be still alive today and part’ing w’it us môn.”

Those words had another meaning for him, should we really be the one who deals out death so lightly. In a way it was truly him that killed the other ganger, he didn’t have to nod, he could have acted like nothing was wrong in 4-Strokes lie. Could have left it be, but he too had principle it was to a family and that brother had betrayed it.
Speaking those words made him wonder about his own fate. Is what he has a gift? I mean, if 4-Strokes could have seen his future? Would he have changed it, or could he have changed it? It’s one thing to walk a path not knowing when the end will come, for this Rastafarian it’s a whole different story. He knows when he will die he has seen it… But should he do something to change it, or can he? Just like 4-Stroke is there someone waiting in the shadows ready to decide his own ending fate?

Kaze bends down over 4-Strokes crumpled body and rifles through his clothes. Searching 4 Stroke's pockets Kaze tosses out items he seems to be uninterested in: A switch blade, some hard currency yen, keys all clatter on the ground as they are tossed aside. Searching through 4 Strokes Armored jacket Kaze pulls out a beat up p-sec that's at least 5 models older than current. Kaze tosses the p-sec in Penumbras direction.

Standing and walking away from the body Kaze begins." Well, it seems we've done a little reorganizing. Change is good though....we have a fresh start sort of. Legion, you're back in collections; Bad-Bones is war boss, like I promised; Penumbra, youre the new bagman...everyone on the payroll is on that p-sec;Henni remains as counselor; Survivor works directly for Bad-Bones as the whip; Tatsu is the Drum; Dane, work with Tatsu on getting a chopshop running; Johnny, and Crash you help out where needed, once we expand you'll have more responsibilities, but for now learn the ropes." Kaze is all smiles as he inhales and then turns towards the skyline." 3 miles west of here is a quarter-mile, oval, slant track. It belongs to to the FT's, I want to be running my bike in a victory lap around it next year."

Kaze turns to all of you and says." We got work to do, but that can wait." Kaze yells the next pat." Tonight we party!"

Bull looks down at 4-Strokes remains

‘What a mess.’

The big orc puts an arm around Crash and shoves his beer into the new members hand.

“Drink up bro, it will help.”

Johnny turns Crash to the side so he won’t just be staring at 4-Strokes corpse and leans in so only Crash can hear.

“You made a tough choice tonight chummer, but it was the right one. 4-Stroke was dead the moment he started skimming from the gang, he just didn’t know it.”

Bull releases Crash when Kaze starts laying out assignments.

‘Hmm, the new guy is in charge of the money, interesting.’

When it is his turn he is relieved to find that Kaze has no specific jobs for him.

‘Good, I can catch up with Two-Feather and maybe get our old gig going again. I’ll have to talk with Kaze about it later.’

Johnny didn’t think it would be a problem, any nuyen coming in was a good thing as long as the gang gets their cut.

After acknowledging Kaze's assignment with a punchy, "Hai!" Tatsu turned his Zenka shades toward Dane. He threw up the Serpents' handjive for 'Null sweat.' and then 'tomorrow, 0930, Kenya Donut shop.'

Dane happy to finaly have something interresting to do smiles and throws his handjive back. "I hope you don't mean 930am I probably will have just passed out by then"

Tatsu spits out loud, "Nande?!"

He comes back at Dane with the hand posturing, "Your ass had better be there fool. Sleep when you're dead."

He pauses, grinning, then jives back to Dane, "Frag you're right. 1330 and if you don't like that, I'll toss your hoop off this roof."

Mitch stood holding the body under one arm as long as he could, until the wieght of it seemed to pull him down. He couldn't relate to what Crash was going through, this was likely his first kill, or at least one of them. But Mitch was a born killer, to him taking another man's life was just like taking out the garbage, or cooking dinner, you just did it and moved on. There was no feeling in it, no emotional wieght to it, you just squeezed and it was all over. As he stood trying to relate to Crash and what every one else would consider his tough time, he began to relize just how different from everyone he actually was. Maybe Bad-bones, who he had just served prision time with, could understand, but then it wasn't that Mitch needed to relate to him, he needed nothing but to understand what Crash was going through. Not for the sake of the new guy, but for his own sake.

That's it, that's what your always trying to think of. After you've killed you always try to reason your way out of it, but there is no reason in killing. Killing is it's own reason, a reason clouded by emotion, swelling up inside until your full of it. Creeping into your coldness dying in your warmth. You cared for it and all it does is stab you in the back. So why do it?

"Because it must be done," mitch mumbled.

Why?

"what else is there for me? What could a huge troll like me possibly do aside from killing?"

there was no answer, all Mitch was left with was the body under his arm, to which no one seemed to want to do anything with. Maybe I'll grab Crash when it's time for disposal. After all it is his body.

In the moments following 4 Strokes's death and the congratulations of the new member that followed, Lee briefly scanned the contents of the pocket secretary. He would examine it in more detail later, when he had a chance to take notes and think about its contents and his newfound responsibilities. First though, something caught his attention.

Looking over at the big troll, Lee could see that he was thinking carefully about something. What, he did not know specifically. Whatever it was, he doubted it was distress over the death of his now former gangmate. No, it had to be something deeper, perhaps much more profound. Death had a way of making people think like that.

Walking silently up to the troll, Lee craned his neck to look him in the eye. It wouldn't have helped if Legion hadn't looked down at him, after all, a two plus foot difference was a two plus foot difference.

When he had caught the big troll's attention, Lee stated, "We need to get rid of the body." It wasn't a question. "Yeah...?" the troll's voice trailed off, as if asking why Lee was bothering to state the obvious. "You will be getting rid of the body?"

A question this time, but again, the answer was obvious. "Yeah...?" Again Legion played along, wondering what this guy was leading up to. "Would you like some assistance?" This time, a real question. Unexpected perhaps, but not necessarily unwelcome. Pausing to consider the question, and whatever implications that might lay behind it, the troll was silent. "Do not answer just yet, I must ask Kaze a question. I will be back."

Striding up to the gang boss, Lee nodded slightly in deference when he was acknowledged. "Kaze. Three questions. First. What are my responsibilities and the accompanying priorities as far as running our financial operations? Second. What resources am I permitted to use in this process? Third. What methods and areas are my purview and what methods and areas must I go to the others to seek their assistance with?"

"13:30 would be cool, but I think the clock stops at 12 doesn't it?" Dane remarks with only a hint of sarcasm. He then snags the J from the Rasta's hand and states
"Dont smoke it all you feind. I'll fix you bumper as long as you promise not to bring that damn snake back to the shop. That thing gives me the willie's.I mean why couldn't you just get a dog anyway? Why a snake? You can't play fetch with it and if the damn thing bites you, you die. You need help. Seriously...Geez..."

Looks to Tatsu he seems to be communicating with Dane speaking in the Serpent sign. He hands over the joint, still have his last two placed behind both ears.
The Dready just shrug’s
“Don’t yelp’an go’o on mak'in noise, me chick’ônz make enough for I and I.”

Then turns from the group and strolls over to a ledge-facing north. His footstep’s steps light over the gravel rooftop, glad the whole ordeal is over… Reaching the edge he rest both hands on the concrete perimeter, an exhaust vent port just to his left expels it steaming contents into the cool spring air. Looking out into the Barren’s that stretch beyond this small town he thinks. “Bal’ance ‘as shif’ted tonight, perhaps we should work to rem’ady?” While these thoughts swirled within his “Natty Dreads” he scans the area below and beyond.

Perception

Kaze pushes a half drank bottle of beer towards Lee, smiling he says." Work tomorrow, Party tonight. This life is to crazy to not party at some point neh?"

Hênni's eye's scan the dark, the night as he would have thought was pretty much dead. Then out of the blue he yell's down over the ledge to something in the alley.

"Hey' wat'cha t'inkôn, get out of d'ere ya' Shagg'rat." the sudden yell from above scares the crap (leterally) out of the bum, as he try's to sneak his pile next to our building. Looking up he gives a rude jester, finishs his buisness then scampers off pulling up his pants in mid flight.

Marty seemed to loosen up after the hit off the J. His world had begun to numb into a euphoric haze. Nodding at Kaze's instructions, and half smiling at his family's good will, he sunk onto his bucket.

His whole body felt as if it was on remote control, as his mind tried to disassociate himself with what had just happened. He even let out short laugh at Henni's reaction to something in the alley.

Fishing around in his pocket, he found his set of keys.

Damn I need a ride. Maybe I'll head back up to the 512 and take it to I-5 and head to downtown..... "Hell who am I kidding, I don't care where I head right now," he mumbles, completing his thought out loud.

Rising from his bucket, he looked around at the rest of the group still standing on the rooftop.

"You guys need me for anything up here right now? 'Cause if it's all the same to you, I'm gonna go take a ride. Shouldn't be that long...."

Jesus, there's still a party going on, isn't there?

" ....and hell, I don't want to miss the end of the party." He said through a forced smile.

Hênni then turns from ledge. Slowly he walks back to the group. The sound of techno drums out its bass through the midnight air. Below the party still pumps on.

"Not ta' be a' bad idea, Jah' watch ya' " to Crash

" 'Ere " he holds out one of his remaining spliff's to Dane "Ta' pay ya' back, Jah watch ya' as well môn"

He makes his way past the mess of 4-stroke to where Kaze, Lee and Legion are standing... He walks up to the Gange leader and speak's softly over his left shoulder.


Backing away from Kaze he turn's to the large troll “Legion welcome back môn, would burry da’ one propar’ly. Don’ta wan’t any eye’s of our rival find’in out we had a weak link in de’ chain. Could be bad for us all, I côn go down to da’ morgue an’ make ‘im a reservation. ( short pause ) Tomorrow been a long night for I.” He smiles sorrowfully and pats the big troll’s shoulder. Nodding to Lee as he departs this part of the group.

Lastly he walks up to Tatsu “Good ta’ see ya’ môn, would get w’it Kaze he might’ ‘ave somet’ing for yah......... Jah watch ya’" he speaks that last part walking to the Stairwell exit……

During the brief handconvo with Dane, Tatsu had settled into an upright crouch, akin to a baseball catcher, tightening his movements as much as possible in an attempt to shield the messages from onlookers. There was no need for secrecy here, it was just good practice.

He rose as Hênni approached, bowing slightly toward the counselor. He nods at the Rastafarian's suggestion and as the magic man makes for the stairwell, Tatsu inquires, "Kurohebi! I'll meet up with you later. Dig?"

Tatsu grabs up his leather jacket from the roof's ledge, shrugging back into it.

Crash doesn't seem to wait around too long for an answer. One was good enough for him.

Spinning his keyring on his finger, the metalic jingle stops suddenly as the keys flip into his hand.

"I'll be back in an hour or two" he says as he makes his way to the stairs. Opening the door, the bass and music seems to hit like a wave as Marty heads downstairs, where the party seems to just be getting started.

He worked his way through the crowd and out to the front stoop, acquiring an unopened bottle of Soyweiser on the way out.

Stopping on the concrete stairs, Marty looks up to the roof of the building, and twists the cap off the bottle.

He looks down, over at the row of bikes lined up on the side of the street and the remains of the old sidewalk, and takes a slow draw off the bottle.

Marty stays standing on the stoop until, almost spontaneously, throws the half full bottle of cheap beer across the street, shattering it on the brownstone building.

He heads over to his bike slowly, unable to get his right hand to stop feeling the burns of the gunpowder.

00:10:11 Somewhere in Loveland

The soft popping sound of exploding glass below draws Tatsu's ear followed by a turn of his head toward the edge of the rooftop. He waits a few beats, then sniffs.

He looks back toward what's left of 4-Stroke and steps forward with a suggestion. "We should take care of that tonight! If we wait until tomorrow, it'll be unpleasant! If you want to save time, wrap it up in a blanket and light it up in a firedrum at the squatter's yard! That'd be easier than sawing."

As the stairwell door open’s the music from below floods The Yardy’s ears. Drum and bass pumping their tribal beats on landing inside, now occupied by two gangers. A large troll with a hair lip snarl and a small ork whose cigarette smoke is filling up the small stairwell. Both are arguing amongst them selves who should get the loot, after a close dice score. With a quick glance Hênni sees the die laying next to the wall Carl and Chains both come to a some what attention realizing there not the only one’s on the landing anymore. “What happen's above?” the big troll asks.

“Not’ing môn, just saying hi’ ta’ some old fred’ies.” the Rasta lies obviously these two where asked to watch the door but Kaze had no intention of telling them why. “An’ the score go’oes ta’ smoka’” he mentions to Chains the Ork’s face brighten up in a big smile.

The crowd below is still assembled lights flowing in and out as bodies spin and rave to the music, the lobby of this run down motel seems more alive then it has been in about twenty years. The Rastafarian makes his way back through the crowd, Brenda spots him on the way out. She come up to him, the smell of synthahol is comming off of her in waves. “ Hey, you leavin? Maybe…. I could get a ride?” her words having a double meaning as she thrust her pelvis into his, one arm (the one not holding the bottle) wraps up to rub the nap of his neck.
“Not’ ta’night shom’bee go’oing home, some business ta’ do. Catch de’ next one’ on ‘is way out…” he reply’s the though is nice and he’s not one to pass up easy company but tonight is almost over and he need rest. He would not say it to any above, but the magic's he uses takes it toll everytime.

00:12:35 Seven Serpent Hang out Loveland

Out on the street it’s deadly quite, only the sounds of the party breaks the stillness of the night. A wall of bikes stretches out as symbol of pride. Tonight every one seems to have shown up, even 4-Stroke, though I bet given the chance he would have wished he didn’t. Hênni walks through an empty spot just created in the wall of bikes Marty must have made good on his word. Funny he didn’t see him pass by back in the lobby; with a few strides he crosses the desolate street. His gray “Hooptie Glider” sat across from the Truck Stop quite, undisturbed only the soft “clucking” of foul was heard up close. Hopping inside he started up the van, its 6-cylinders cranking to life after only few whines.

The highway of route 7 was somewhat busy this evening. It is the way of all main roads in a heavy sprawl I would guess. Halfway home the familiar hum of a bike suddenly could be heard its Turbo charged engine squelching out gas-induced adrenaline through the night air. Looking in his rear view the Jamaican saw a Midnight Blue Aura flying up route 7. In a flash it was past him, a reflective arc of lighting blurring through the permacrete artery that connect the 512 to Loveland. The quick view of Crash’s Gang Vest sparked into sight then was gone as it turned into nothing more then a red tail light up ahead.

00:35:24 Loveland Lakes Apartment

The gray van slowly rolled into the Loveland Lake’s parking lot at thirty five past midnight. He shut down, got out and walked around back. Opening the rear door’s where his foul slept contently in their coop, he regretted it but… Opening the latch and reaching in he quickly grabbed the birds by their feet while they slept. Immediately they came to life thinking them under attack. “Screech….Squawk… boock….Squawk…” He quickly starts making a dash for the back of the building, leaving a flying trail of feathery down in his wake… Climbing the back fire escape he heads for his own roof. There he keeps more coops filled with chickens, bringing these three enraged foul up start a domino effect. With in minutes this whole sector of the roof is lively with angry yard birds. Leaving the chicken fiasco he make’s his way back down the fire escape to his back window. With a quick shimmy he is inside, the dark apartment looking like some far off jungle. His hydro-systems works, and works well. Growing plants like Philodendron their large tropical leaves drooping over doorways like living screens and Hibiscus it’s beautiful red and yellow flowers bringing color to an other wise bleak building. Most of all though is the Herbs his system is set up to grow, anything from Rosemary to Cannabis Sativa. The latter more than the former, making his way in the dark he reaches his living room finds a chair and props it up against his front entrance. Stumbling back to the couch he pull’s out an Ares Predator from underneath, then rests is on his chest, laying in the dark he thinks.

“Maybe I côn get some sleep dis’ night! Maybe… dem’ dream’s will leave me peace.

"thats a good idea Tatsu," Mitch adjusted the body under his arm again," meet me behind the building in ten minutes with a blanket and some petrol."

Mitch walks down to the two talking about the dice, "Gimme that bottle." He still had the body under his arm when he said this, "4-stroke needs a drink." The bloody mess under his arm made no indication to the contrary.
"Damn what happened to his head, man," Chains said tossing legion the bottle. He wondered if they had heard the gunshot, but deicided just in case not to answer. Mitch walked back up to the roof body in one had bottle in the other, he posed the corpse to look as if it were passed out and placed the bottle under his arm until he got back. "Keep an eye on him," Legion said to Lee, "make sure he doesn't go anywhere." "Kaze, Bad-bones," he nods to each the makes his way back into the party, covered in blood.

Even with some none gangers in the mix the sight of a giant troll covered in blood wearing an outdated suit making his way through the crowd did not seem all that unusual. From his vantage point Mitch mitch could see everything going on at the party. He quickly spotted the reason he came down, and started to make his way to tubs. In a heavy drunken stupor Mitch decided that Tubs was in no shape to drive so he borrowed the keys to his americar with the hope that Tatsu could actually drive it, mitch was far to large to even get behind the wheel. heading back to the roof, he grabs the late ganger carries him down the stairs, around the building and out to tub's americar. Setting the body down leaned against the bumper, Mitch opens the trunk. It was full of junk spare tire, cardboard boxes and the like, but still enough room for a body. He folded the corpse at the waist knowing that if he were alive this task would be impossible without breaking something and being carful to keep him on the cardboard sticks him in the trunk.

"Now to get the blanket and petrol," he says begining his walk back to the back of the building. He pauses along side to light another cigar and then proceeds to wait for Tatsu.

00:18:24 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

Kaze motions Tatsu over to the couch he is sitting in. Kaze pats the young woman on her exposed thigh as Tatsu approaches and waves her away with hand, clearing away a place for Tatsu to sit next to him. Kaze leans in close to Tatsu and speaks barely above the sound of the music." Penumbra is new to the streets, let him know that a bagman collects money from you, kicks it up to me, and pay's off the gang, and anyone on our payroll...oh yeah make sure he picks up the weekly payoff the parolees have to kick to the PO, and that he drops that off every week." Kaze produces a wrapped gift box, and hands it to Tatsu. Inside the box is a bottle of Sake a very old bottle of sake." It is a gift from above. It is my wish you share it in toasts with those inside the circle." Kaze turns his attention from you to the mini skirted girl who has been waiting some 3 paces away. He beacons her back with the same hand wave as he used to send her away. As she straddles Kaze's lap you realize it's probly time to go.

00:16:41 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

00:19:28 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

Through all of this, Lee stood on the roof, silent and watchful. Noticing Tatsu looking around, their eyes meet briefly, and Lee nods in acknowledgement.

What exactly does one do at a party anyway? It appears that beyond getting drunk or indulging in some form of substance abuse, the only other activity of note is attempting to get laid. With a thin smile to himself, he adds, that or killing fellow gangers who double crossed us.

Still keeping an eye on 4 Strokes's body, he leans against the ventilation wall, still watching everything, his body language stating that he's not up for small talk, but if someone has a purpose for approaching him, he will not object.

01:40:00 Loveland Lake's Apartment complex #305

The darkness encompassed all the Rasta’s senses, still and silent, calming and serene. This was as he wished it, no nightmares and no painful visions. Just serenity, until…………

Deep down inside it started to swell, a pain, a burning so whole he was forced out of his womb of unconsciousness. His eyes came awake in the dark, nothing moved the Ares he clinched had slip from his grasp and now lay on the floor limp in his right hand. The sudden realization of the pain was then realized, he had not relieved himself in nearly nine hours. Slowly he awoke thinking of making his way to the washroom, yet since this housing complex shared equality on that subject he decided to make his way to the fire escape. Slowly he lifted the glass paneling that served as his living room window. It seem to slide up easily (easier then he had remembered in months) the tug in his bladder swelled once more. No time to think only relieve……… “Aaaaaahhhh” …………….. the relief, the exhilaration…
It was heaven, yet the sound of his stream seemed close at hand… Luckily he was still sleepwalking and it was dark in his apartment because the embarrassment from the street below if any had looked up would have been catastrophic.

To see a skinny Dread-locked Jamaican pissing on a closed window, the urine splattering against the glass and flowing downward onto his window sill… Yep…. Man that would have been BAD……..
With a few shakes, and a scratch he pulls his sarong back around himself and stumbles back to the couch, with a quick click from his remote that he fishes off an end table. He hit’s the playback unit on… The smooth Dub sound’s of Reggae rock him back to sleep…. YEP it is good to have sound, smooth sleep this night.

00:19:32 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

Tucking the giftbox beneath his arm, Tatsu pulls up next to Lee, and throws his back against the wall. As he looks out across the night sky and observes the Loveland horizon, he sedately congratulates Penumbra, "Omedetou gozaimasu. How do you feel about your new position?"

He punctuates his question with a soft kick at 4-Stroke's form, Zenka shades still pointed toward the skyline.

As Mitch leaned against the wall on the backside of the Seven Serpants Hangout waiting for tatsu's arrival, he had plenty of time to think about what was next. Tommorow it would be back to buisness as usual and he couldn't wait, Mitch had had plenty of time on the inside to long for freedom, but now that he had it he really didn't know what to do. He could feel the tiny joint that henni had given him in his pocket, and couldn't help but think that it was just sitting there waiting to be smoked, but right now was not the time to be lighting up. With the body of 4-stroke in the trunk of Tub's, no doubt stolen, americar, this was no time to get foggy.

As time passed behind the building, so did Mitch's thoughts from topic to topic. He had been trying to keep his mind off of the blunt that rested in his coat pocket, but no matter what it kept comming back to it and, with henni off no doubt pissing of the numerous chicken he kept, he didn't have the benifit of his consolodated 12 step program to detox him. Mitch had many stories that began with, "it all started when we lit up," and really didn't feel like adding another one.

Survivor hangs around as the group breaks up, but aside from a quick word from Bad Bones, no one seemed to have any need for him for the time being. He returned to the edge of the roof, crouching on the edge of the waist high retaining wall to watch the party going on below. He wasn't ready to rejoin it yet. Still too many people, too close together, too many conflicting scents milling around. The cleaner air of the rooftop had cleared out his nose, and he wasn't ready to plunge back into the throng and stuff it up again.

He decided that he was going to go take a prowl around the surronding streets and allys, and see what was else was happening in the Serpents' turf tonight. Hopping off the wall onto the rooftop, his eyes caught a glitter in the darkness. He recognized 4-Stroke's keys, lying with the rest of his pocket's contents on the roof. He glanced up at Tatsu and Lee, who were conversing in low voices, the only other people still on the roof. He licked his lips hungrily, whining in the back of his throat. All the higher ups had passed them by, so he stooped and scooped them up. "See you in the sunlight," he told the other two, twirling the keys around his finger by the ring. 4-Strokes might've had a taste for old Rapiers, but that still beat the shattered pile of parts he had back at the junkyard.

Dane take's the spleef from henni and states."you truly are a friend.A friend with weed is a friend indeed. But seriosly though dont bring that snake back to my shop. Last time you had it there it took a rat sized dump in the corner and i had to clean it up. You shouldn't just let it roam free like that the damn thing almost bit me the other day. The only reason it's slill alive is that i know you would put a hex on me if i killed it. But you are right about your fender the zipties are starting to go."
Ater his conversation with henni is over Dane takes a few momonts to him self to finish his spleef all while thinking.man another brother gone to the dark side,I wonder who else will,I'm definately gonna have to keep my eyes and ears open
When his time of contemplation is over which ironically is when the weed wears off Dane reenters the party with meeting over his time self control is now over"what a relief" He now spends the night defiling himself in the only way he can think of.

5:30 am

Dane lays hunch over in the alley fast asleep

7:45 am

Dane wakes up, he eye's slowly open as he notices the sounds of the street in the morning.As he stands his head starts to pound."oh man What did I do?Who did I do?How did I get here? Hey, whats that smell? it's awful." he slowly looks to where he was lying just moments before and realizes it is the same spot where henni and seen that guy taking a dump. He then checks his clothes and finds that he is covered in it. "what a night" he says as he hops on his bike and heads home.

00:19:39 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

Lee pauses, thinking about how to respond. Finally, he shrugs and answers, "It is a new responsibility. I will accept it with grace and fulfill it to the best of my abilities. I think in some ways, it will help; there are many changes that should be made in our operations I have observed, and I look forward to the opportunity to put them into practice."

He glances over at Tatsu. "And yourself? I gather you have been away from the Serpents for a long time now. How does it feel to return?"

00:20:32 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

Tatsu sniffs and answers the question, "It feels like someone has kept me in a headlock for the last four years and I just broke free. Now I have to swing back hard."

He rears his foot as if he is about to stomp the corpse, but hesitates and lowers it without causing further gore. "Demo... I think you have the right attitude. I picked up a lot of good advice while inside. Ideas to put into action. Tomorrow I am meeting with Dane about the chopshop. Of course you have a lot of work to do, but if you would find the time to attend and assist with the planning, it would be helpful."

The door from the stairwell pops open and Mitch steps through, car keys in hand. Propping the door open for the troll as he hauls 4-Stroke' body out, Tatsu hollers toward Bad-Bones, "Hey B! Grab some fuel for the fire, I'll grab a rug or something."

00:13:53 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

Lee nods. "What time and where? I'll be there."

00:20:59 Seven Serpents Hangout Loveland

Large, black lenses regard Lee, "One thirty. Kenya Donut."

Tatsu heads downstairs and heads for a room that he recalled had a good size rug. The music pounds and the crowd looks like it may have grown. He finds the door slightly ajar, and from the sound of things inside, occupied by a couple. He pushes in and grabs up the floor rug. Lit intermittently by a flickering neon sign he catches glimpses of maybe Jazzy and a girl that had been dancing earlier. Tatsu grunts his approval as he exits.

06:23:01 Loveland Lake’s Apartment Complex #305


Bright blades of light cut through an eastward facing window to the Dready’s place. Soft Dub sounds of Reggae Roots drum over the playback unit. The haze of sleep slowly clears from his weary eyes. This time he is staring at a familiar sight, a large Zimbabwe tapestry that hangs on his ceiling over the couch. He quickly scans the place, all seems in order and undisturbed on the floor sits the handle of an Ares Predator it’s barrel has been half consumed by his couch. Sitting up slowly and with his left foot he slides the Pistol back under the fringe of his worn down orange sofa. After a few shakes of his long Dreadlocks he arises and make his way to the freeze unit, opening it up he grabs what is left of a TomatoSoy™ drink made a few day’s back. Chugging what is left in one gulp he disrobes the sarong right there and dumps the pitcher on the counter. After coming back from his room, dressed freshly in another Natty style wrap no shirt or shoes his necklaces still full on his chest Hênni decides it is time for his morning rituals. Today is the ninth day for him, this means he must make his way up onto the roof. Pausing quickly at the Living room window when his feet rapidly become soaked on cold wet carpet. He lifts a foot to his nose, “Fewwww……… Ran’cid w’at tiss’ diss’?” Grabbing some old papers the Rastafarian throws them down over the saturated spot and exits out onto the Fire Escape.

This morning is brisk an electric air is abroad, reaching the last rung atop the escape he hops over its edge. Three coops sit on this roof off to his right, two of which contents cooing softly in the morning air the third ( somewhat wider yet shorter ) stands still and silent as usual. Walking to one of the taller coops he slowly and respectfully reaches in and grabs a foul.

“Bad tim’in for ya’ shom’bee, yah’ look lik’in Jah’ be need’in time ta’ rez’son…” he speaks softly to comforts the Yard Foul.

Walking to the silent cage and opening a small trap door on its side, he places the bird on a ledge built three feet off its leaf littered floor (closing and locking it behind). Usually he watches the bird for a while yet this day the events of last night still fresh on his mind makes him in a hurry to get back down and seek out some answers. The Yardy turns to leave as the chickens mood begins to shifts with anxiety there is something wrong with this larger cage. Maybe it just hasn’t adapted to his new home yet?

“Squawk …… Be-cock…… Squawk……!” it attitude gets more tense from something that shifted the leaves below.

Hênni makes his way to the eastern side of the roof and places his hand on the black railing that marks the beginning of a fire escape latter. Behind the “Squawking” is coming to a shrilled zenith, the quick rustling and swishing of leaf matter brings all to a Deadly silence. All the other coops at this point are alive in the morning, now shrieking their calls for a fallen comrade in the larger cage. Compulsion tugs him to turn and look behind at what had just happened. The ledge inside the coop is now bare only a few feathers show what was of the chicken. Its killer cannot be seen, hidden behind two feet of ply that wraps the cages bottom (to hold in all the dried leaves). His face fractures in a solemn frown. “Jah, watch ya’!” Thinking it sad the way of life.

Always one must fall to let others succeed this is the way, has been for all since the exodus. One day all will end to meet their utopia it is just a shame 4-Stroke never found peace before his. He wonders if he will find peace before his?

00:21:01 Loveland Serpents Party

Bad-Bones looks back at Tatsu holding up his left hand showing a beer bottle and throws the jive sign for" I'm cool" with his right. Bad-Bones then disappears into the crowd of party-goers.

00:10:26 Outside the Serpent's party in Loveland

Marty twisted the accelerator as the Aurora roared to life. Popping it into first gear, he took it slow out of the area, and around the block to warm the engine before he really hit it.

Turning on to Route 7, he inched the toe of his left boot under the gear shift, and cranked the gas. The steady rumble of the engine became a howl, as the front tire rose off the pavement.

Crash rode the wheelie for a few seconds, before putting the weight back down on the forks, and entering the flow of traffic.

The Aurora's custom engine screamed like a T-Bird, and wove through the cars with ease, north towards the 512.

Kaze wants Spanaway Speedway. Fine. I just hope it wont require any more executions. Casualties....I can deal with.... executions......

He took the eastbound ramp onto the 512 and headed north as the road curved onto 167 toward downtown.

Maybe I can get close enough to see the Sound if I go west. Then again, maybe not.

02:13:54 Back at the 7 Serpent's Hangout

Crash pulled up to the house, now with considerably less vehicles in front of it. The hardcore partiers would still be going now, though, vehicles, music or no. He parked his bike and swung off of it, and headed inside to see if anyone was still awake.

04:02:21 Serpents Party

Crash had become incredibly slammed. Playing caps with Junks and Dodge seemed like a good idea at the time. The damn ork drove like a blind old buzzard so he had heard, but he could throw, even when toasted.

Marty moved to an empty spot on one of the couches adorning the lower level, and nearly fell into the seat. Blackness immedately started to close in. He looked over at the person passed out on the other side of the couch.

Who is that?Before he could finish an answer, he was already out.

09:33:08 Loveland

Daylight creeps into what little hidey-hole you've wound up in. The sun shines brightly in your eyes as you struggle to open them.

In the parking lot a Ford Americar smells like a two day old skunk, and getting riper as the sun beats down on it.

00:25:40 Loveland Serpents Party

Grabbing up a couple bottles of Snaketit Amber Ale (a Serpent's favorite) he strolled the door. Tatsu heads around back and arrives at the Americar. He deposits the rug on the trunklid and dust at his jacket.

Offering Mitch a bottle he informs the troll, "Bad-Bones'll be here with the fuel."

11:52:28 Loveland – Heart of Route 7 Serpent territory - Former Super Sleepy 8 Motel - Spanky’s Place

The noon sun trickled through the heavy curtains and boarded up windows of Spanky’s apartment. By the sounds coming from the bathroom it looks like Ol’ Tinker had managed to get the water up and running again.

Last night had been a blast. First night free and back with family. Sure watching 4-Stroke get his brains blown all over Legion’s suit was kind of a downer, but Johnny didn’t let it affect him for to long. The beer was flow’n, the whole place was high and Spanky was looking just as hot as she had the day he went into Silcox. He isn’t really sure when They left the party, or really how he and Spanky managed to make it back to her place without a single wipeout, but it didn’t really matter. She gave him the hero’s welcome that he deserved and after a year in Silcox with a bunch of guys wanting a piece of you both literally and figuratively, he had a lot of pent up aggression. Spanky worked him out good though and it was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t woken up from the nightmares. Johnny threw off the rumpled bed sheets and sat up on the end of the bed, letting the worse part of his hangover pass before attempting to get up. The bed groaned in relief as the big orc’s weight lifted from it.

“Hey stud. If that’s you up, why don’t you come in here and help me wash my back?”

Johnny smiled to himself, subtly was not one of Spanky’s strong points.

Johnny was no fool, he knew Spanky had taken other lovers when he was away and she probably still does. Hell other than the yearlong bought of celibacy in Silcox. Johnny was far from monogamous, but there was something that always seemed to draw them back to each other. Maybe it was the pain, there lives were wrapped up in it and to find someone that truly understood that was rare. They never really talked about it. To do so would take their relationship to a level that neither was really prepared to go…at least that was what Johnny thought.

Spanky’s back was to him when he entered the tiny bathroom and he stopped for a moment to stare. Spanky’s long black hair was soaked straight from the water that was cascading down her back as she leaned into the shower stall and let the pulsing water massage her neck. Streams of water flowed down the wet strands of hair to the tips that she had dyed green and down her finely muscled shoulder blades and back, rounding her hips and over her rear trickling into its crease. New bruises, most likely mirroring the ones Johnny could feel on his body glistened black and blue in the shower spray.

‘And I thought yesterday was a good day…’

She leaned back and caught Johnny staring. Half turning towards him she faines embarrassment and moves an arm across her ample breasts, covering them.

“Stop staring ya jerk!” She playfully splashes some water at him.

Kicking in his boosted reflexes, Johnny moves to grab her round the waist and pulls her into his embrace, kissing her with a passion born of a man that has not seen a woman in over a year. The water cascades over their bodies, cleansing away the pain of life, if only for a moment.

13:55:51 Loveland – Heart of Route 7 Serpent territory - Former Super Sleepy 8 Motel - Spanky’s Place

Johnny and Spanky finish their “Shower”.

“I have to get going. I have some business to take care of with Kaze and I have to see if any of the Serpents need anything.” Johnny says as he exits the shower stall looking for something to towel off with.

“Johnny?”

Spanky’s tone stops him in his tracks, she rarely used his name, he was always Bull or Stud…never Johnny. She touches his shoulder gently. He turns to meet her gaze. She looks different, unsure.

“Yah, Babe?”

“I missed you Johnny.” It may have been his imagination but he could have sworn that her voice trembled a bit. “Are you coming back tonight?” She slid her hand down his arm when he turned towards her.

‘Reaching out?’

“Uhh, yah sure.” He says somewhat confused as he pulls her into a gentle embrace.

They stay like that for a minute, before Spanky breaks the silence and turns away.

‘Is that a tear she is whipping away?’

“You better get go’in.” She says.

“Right.” Johnny throws on his clothes and body armor quickly, as Spanky takes her time in the bathroom getting dressed for the day.

“See ya tonight Spank!” He yells back into the apartment before heading out the door…very confused and more than a little nervous.

10:12:16 Serpents Hangout

The light had done nothing for Marty's mood. Part of him wanted to get up and move around, but the rest of him seemed to heavy to move around. He was disconcertingly thirsty, but was unsure if he could even keep water down.

He had been lying on the couch, his body unwilling to move, and his mind only semi conscious. About 45 minutes ago, Slammy had slunk his way into the room and over to the trid console, and started a rousing game of Combat Biker '65 on the unit. He had turned the volume down, but it was on just enough for Crash to find it annoying.

Most of an hour of this was too much.

Crash sat up on he couch, and took a look around the place, seeing a few people slumped in various places, obviously still clinging to the idea of night time. He stretched, and nodded to Slammy, who was sufficiently lost in his game.

I wonder if I'm supposed to be anywhere today. Hell, I should probably find someone who knows. If I'm supposed to be learning the ropes, I'm going to need ropes to learn.

His sleep had been fitful, but eventually he was able to completely shut down. The incedent on the rooftop last night seemed almost like a distant memory. To him, it didn't even seem like he shot anyone. It was as if he watched it all happen on the trid.

He rose and staggered to the bathroom, thankfully empty, as he was just in time. He heaved, emptying his stomach into the toilet. It didn't do much for his head, but it helped with the queasyness.

He looked around the bathroom for anything resembling mouthwash, and wet his face down.

Maybe I could go check out the Speedway. Spanaway's only a few miles away, and I can outrun those FT assholes if they give me any crap. If Kaze wants it, we should know whats in between here and there. Shit, I bet they have a hell of a garage there to work on the bikes. ...... Man I look like shit....

Marty flushed the toilet and headed outside, taking a seat on the stoop

8:15 road in front of Dane's shop

Like the end of a rollercoaster Dane comes to a sudden stop. Looking over his shoulder he thinks I can't belive I passed it . With great skill he powerslides his aurora bike toward the direction of the shop that the old man had left him.His mentor and seragate father. he taught him all he knows about vehicles. Like a bat out of hell Dane takes off toward the double bay doors stopping just short of smashing into the gray block side of his shop.

Slowly, he slips himself off of the seat not noticing that his bike is still running. Stagger, Stagger, crawl, crawl is the motion of his walk as he heads toward the large bay door. While reaching into his pocket to retrieve his key to open the pad lock he notices that they aren't there.Man where the hell are my keys he thinks to himself with dibelief and confusion. After a few moments of deliberation he remembers that he could not have started his bike with out them. Quickly he turns to the jet black Aurora the gang's emblem showing bright and venomuos on the gas tank. As he rotates he feels the bottom of his stomach come to the top. With great consintency the yellow bile exits the pit of the ganger's stomach right on to black asphalt of the parkinglot.God if you just let me get in my shop i promise i won't drink for a month Dane prays with unintentional dishonesty.

Moments later after several painful heaves Dane makes it into the shop. While heading straight for the bath room he trips over an old mufler and falls hard on the cold concrete. Deciding thats where he's going to stay for the time being Dane falls fast asleep still smelling of feces

7:00 Lee's Apartment

Rising early to perform his katas and meditations to center himself, Lee cleared his mind of last night's events. Although they did not disturb him, he did not consider it relevant to dwell on them. After finishing his discussion with Tatsu, he had left the party and returned home, where he'd passed a quiet and relaxing night just playing cards with Cassandra and talking.

The meeting is this afternoon, he reminded himself as he cooled down from his morning exercises. I wonder what will be discussed... With his sudden position of responsibility in the gang, it seemed that fate had called him to be more involved with the gang after all. His path here did not look over by any means. Rather, it looked like it was just getting started...

06:45:28 Loveland Lake’s Apartment Complex #305

HênniThrough the living room window his deadlocked mop emerges, stepping in right onto of the paper he had laid down to soak what ever was spilled last night. Looking around he walks through the virtual jungle that he has allow to over grow his place. Only stopping for a quick second in the hall way listening Pitter patter….. Munch munch…. his face drops into a large frown, slowly and quietly he backtracks to the couch.
Stealth


Once there he reaches underneath fishing for the Ares Predator, the familiar feel of the cold gunmetal brushes his hand. The Dready pulls out the pistol and draws back its slide making sure a round is seating well in the firing position. Slowly making his way back up the hall and under a large hanging Philodendron he peers in through the empty doorway to his bedroom.

“Where are ya’ critter’s, I ‘eared yah’ munch’on an crunch’on me stash.” Whispering, Hênni slowly flips the safety to hot, this triggers the gun’s sight mechanics and a razor thin red beam emits from the laser sight that has been under-slung on its barrel.

“Diss’ time if’ôn I caught yah’ no’o merci’, been gett’on a‘way w’it to much already’” Whispering again as he looks over his bed, night stand and all the Cannabis plants that adorn his bedroom.

Mitch takes the bottle from Tatsu and with one large gulp its completely empty, "Ah, that hits the spot."

"You know I was thinking, this guy had friends somewhere that might wonder where he is after a couple of days," the troll says thinking of the now rotting corpse in the trunk. "I've got a buddy who would just love to have this," Mitch says thinking of his ghoul friend, Marcus. "See if he just disappeared, people could speculate that he got taken out for some reason and who ever did it didn't want anyone to know," Mitch smiles thinking of what marcus would do to the corpse. "But if he was found half eaten in some ally on the south side, they'd just figure he wandered into the wrong part of town and meet up with some ghouls. Which would draw suspicion off of us and give this son of a slag what he really deserves," Mitch says this as a cold feeling slowly creeps into his stomach.

What if they trace it back to you, or worse kill marcus

"thats a risk I'll have to take," [b]Mitch mumbles to himself.

But it's completely superflous, if you just burned him no one would ever find him

"Yeah but this is what he deserves, and besides they'd have a mighty hard time killing Marcus unless they had a tank."

00:32:57 Loveland Serpents Party

Watcing Mitch swallow the beer immediately, with one quick tilt, does not shock Tatsu. It does cause him to review his thought process behind grabbing only less than a mouthful of brew up for his friend. What he had brought had been grossly insufficient, but maybe Mitch had at least enjoyed the brief taste of the bitter hops.

Hearing the troll suggest feeding 4-Stroke to a ghoul certainly takes him out of stride, but he allows none of his surprise to show. Years ago, Tatsu learned the value of a sort of cool detachment from what goes on this world. Still, sometimes he needed to stop and gaze at the wreck, marvel at the carnage and glean what he can from it. He restrains from adopting his normal volume of voice, and asks softly, "You want to feed that worm to your pet ghoul?"

Tatsu reasons, "That would sort of look like an affront to the Serpents, brother. If it appeared that a ghoul had attacked 4-Stroke, then that ghoul would have attacked the Route 7 Serpents. That might bring on a war with the Plague-Bringers. Not good. We need to worry about the FT pigs most of all right now, yeah?"

After a few tugs on his bottle of brew, Tatsu's voice regains its normal invigorated timbre, "It wouldn't be a good plan to let anyone know that a Serpent was killed, it only shows weakness! If you want to take him to your friend to munch on ...that's fine. Use him as a garbage disposal but let the story be closer to the truth! Let your buddy know that the Serpents can still discipline their own! That way if this ghoul is loose in the jaw, he is only telling people that the Serpents don't frag around. Tell him to suck the bones dry, you scan?"

Finishing his beer and taking the empty bottle from Mitch, Tatsu sets them against the wall for the squatter bottle collectors to pick up tomorrow. He rolls the rice paper package in his hands for a moment and then inquires, "When did you start hanging with a ghoul?"

Survivor pulled into the junkyard through a conviently misplaced section of fencing. It smelled of 4-Stroke, which made his scalp prickle a bit. He'd have to do something about that. Take it into Dane for a good strip down and tune up, bury the odor of his deceased packmate beneath the strong, good scent of engine lubricants and gasoline.

He still felt a bit on edge from the evenings adrenaline, as well as the after affects of second hand exposure to various illicit substances. His stomach rumbled. He hadn't had much to eat the previous day either. His intake had been primarily liquid.

He decided to work it all off by hunting rats. He paused just long enough to shuck off his clothes before slipping back into his true form then slipped out into the fading night. It was a good hunt.. Very few people paid attention to another dog on the street. He did cross into another pack's territory, but none of them tried to approach him, slinking through the shadows, watching, but not daring to challange the interloper.

His eagerness waned somewhat after the second time he came across spoor of sewer rats, come up from the depths to forage. Their meat was foul, filthy, and infested with diseases that even he was unwilling to risk contact with. Once he came across evidence of a pack of devil rats, and quickly took off in the opposite direction.

His efforts were finally rewarded inside an abandoned tenement, it's walls infested with rats that'd gnawed a warren through the cheap sheetrock. He managed to fill his stomach in a couple of hours, and was returning home, a rat swinging between his jaws as a snack for later when someone took a shot at him. He laid his ears back and bolted, but it wasn't followed up by another. A squatter then, hoping to bag himself to eat. Or just someone trying out a gun on whatever they saw moving.

He returned to his shack via a twisting passage through the piles of junk, too small and winding for most metahumans to traverse. The darkness showing through the chinks in the walls was starting to go grey with the rising sun. He tossed the rat in the corner for later, and was about to curl up and go to sleep when he heard someone pounding on the trap door that marked the 'official' entrance. The scent that the air carried in was a familar one.

"One second," he said, as he shifted back to human form. He paused long enough to throw on a pair of pants, and wipe the blood from around his mouth on the back of his forearm

Bad-Bones waits as Survivor opens the door for him. Slipping inside the open door Bad-bones says. " now that job I was telling you about" The door closes behind him.

"Point taken, we'll do it your way," Mitch said angry that he didn't think of it himself.

Why would you, your nose is to close to the picture.

"Even still, we should have thought of that," he again mumbles to himself. For all his live he had had little conversations with himself it wasn't that he was crazy, his mind just worked in dialogue.

Maybe prision has made you soft?

Mitch tosses the keys the keys to Tatsu and sighs, "Yeah burning is how we'll do it, now where's Bad-bones with that gas."

06:45:28 Inside Hênni’s hallway

The hunter waits, stalking his prey, for to long has this creature fool him. For to long this critter has destroyed more than his fair share of the Rastafarian’s Gonga plants, this day will be his last. Hênni waits in silence listening, hoping for a sign even a sight.................... Nothing.................... time slips as he grows impatient, “Bah’ ya’ foul’in Rat’” He yells and jumps into his bedroom only then seeing the rodents tail end scurrying into his closet. Fooled again! This creature is wearing thin his patients, with a smooth hand he click the pistol back into safe mode. The laser cuts off as its secure methods lock back on.

Tossing the Ares onto his bed he sighs and strips for a shower.


10:30:52 Loveland Lake’s Apartment Complex #305

Now out clean, dressed, fed and rested Rasta grabs his cell phone off the table. It flickers to life as he flips out the extension; clicking in the right numbers its LED display reads RESTON.


“Better be good Ye’ bother’in me Laddy.” The gruff disembodied voice of a Dwarf can be heard over the phone.

Hênni smiles same ole’ transport rigger he remembered before he got locked up. You see Reston was a Dwarf Drone Rigger that worked the Tacoma dock’s running remote cranes, and scuttle rigs along the ports lengths.

“Rez’ton ya’ be’en de' same since last I ‘eard yah… Diss’ is Yardy! tell me môn how’s buiss'nass?”

He thinks back thoug recent times. Did' not Bull men'ton somet'ing 'bout de Cascade at one time, if so 'e could use da' Ork, dat' is if Rez'ton has' anee' t'ing of intrest for an Natty Dread ta' dig up.. Back down' wid'en road's a'gain Rasta Hhhmmuph t'ings come ôn' t'ings go fool'ish 'ta t'ink any way else. He reminds himself.

00:52:26 Loveland Serpents Party

Drumming on the roof of the Americar, Tatsu boisterously suggests, "Mitch, let's split. Bad-Bones is not showing up to help."

He stifles a yawn and slides into the driver seat, starting up the vehicle. He sets the gift on the rear floorboard, behind his own seat and waits for the troll to mount up. Tatsu thought that Mitch had been a little hard on himself about the ghoul idea. He sniffs.

Tatsu belts, "Let's go see your friend."

"Ah if were going to do it that way, then let me just call him, I'm sure wouldn't mind picking up his food," Mitch smiles his, this is going to be fun smile, and then realizes he doesn't have his cell phone.

damn you must have forgotten it at the house

"Eh, nevermind I don't have my phone, set a course for 5th and Hedgegrove," the troll opens the paasenger door and squeezes in. The entire americar shifts to one side as Mitch puts his weight down on the seat. It wasn't really designed for trolls to sit on, and both Mitch and Tatsu could hear the seat groan as he came to rest. "Drive carefully I think this car might be hot," he cautions to Tatsu. And with that they are off. the drive is a short on, as Marcus technically lived on 7S turf.

Arriving at the corner where once stood a small deli, Mitch began to feel a little on edge, it would be good to see he friend again he just hoped that he was still alive. He wasn't exactly the most well loved person in the world, and more than a few people had it out for the guy. Exiting the americar, the seat groaned with approval and the car shifted back to a semi normal wieght balance.

Marcus technically didn't have a residence to speak of but he often took refuge inside the abandoned deli esecially when he was hungry. "You might oughta wait here, my friend doesn't really trust new people," he said this in all sincerity, it was one thing for him to feed a "none existant" body to his friend but to have him eat someone that needed to be around....

"Mark you in here," Mitch asked, not bothering to check wether [b]Tatsu had heeded his warning. He moved quietly into the building trying not to suprise Marcus, he was extra jumpy since Mitch got to spend quality time on the inside of a jail cell. It wasn't because he was afraid, no nothing not even Dunkelzahn himself would make Marcus even flinch, the fact was he was worried about his friend. He had heard so many stories of trolls just dying one night in thier sleep at good ol' silcox, and had come to depend on Mitch's friendship to keep him from going crazy. Most people feel uncomfortable around trolls, and very few even would talk to a ghoul, so the way he saw it nature herself had screwed him, and he was just thankful for what he had.

"M-mitch is that you," a strange voice called from within the ruins of the delicatesen. Soon after an enourmous creature slowly made it's way out of the shadows. Mitch stood a good eight foot nine inches tall and was aproximately 800 pound, but standing next to Marcus he looked like a scrawy little elf. It was enough to wonder how something that large so close to the gang's HQ had gone unnoticed, but then it hadn't. Mitch had kept an eye on him the best he could and tried to steer the other gangers away from the delicatesen and hopes that no one would be foolish enough to take him on if he were discovered.

"You hungry man," mitch asked his friend. He had no way of knowing when the last time the behemoth had eaten but he hoped that it was long enough ago that none of the late four-stroke went to waste. "I got a special treat for you, fresh no more than six hours old," he said again with perfect sincerity. "All your favorite parts still in tact, I just ask you one thing," he paused to let what he just told marcus settle in.

"What you want," Marcus had that look of great anticipation for the coming feast in his eyes, even those who didn't know him could tell what it was. It was the half crazed look of a starving man told he was going to be served a steak in a few minutes.

"I want two things, Marcus Finish it all or burn what's left, and tell no one," two things Mitch knew for certain that he could do easily. With that look in his eyes Mitch estimated that he would be done with it just about the time he was handing the keys to the americar back to Tubs not that he should tonight since he was so plastered. And as for the secret keeping he knew his friend was pretty tight lipped, after all whos going to try and interogate a giant flesh eating monster.

Marcus smiles with a grin just this side of evil. "I accept your terms old friend. For something abit more alive, and perhaps younger i have something to trade....information on an enemy." Leaving you to ponder the gigantic ghoul sniffs the air." It's close isnt it?"