It's unseasonably warm for this time of year, its usually still cold out in the beginning of April here, and things are just seeming to go right today.

The first buds of the new crop are now opened.

Cigarettes that you've been owed are on the cell bunk in bundles,singles and packs; paid back on your final day out of respect.

That all day project on the carborator only takes an hour.

The Star has been either to busy or to lazy to hassle anyone.

The FT's have been giving nods instead of throwing gang signs.

James wakes up not twitching or hovering around the shoe box that holds his BTL-Deck and, she's actually humming today with a slight smile on her normally despondant face.

Flipping the worn pages of The Psalms of the Sprawl, past the chronicles of Tu Pac, to the First books of Ice.

Just another day in the sprawl chummer.

Naw....today is a good day

You can actually hear the party before you can see it. The loud music is interrupted occassionally by the high pitch whine of the motorcycles, and the squawk of tires. Everyone is here even a few of the U.B.C. (Under Bridge Crew). The party is in full swing as you arrive, the crowd is dancing, drinking, talking and laughing. As you brush past you cant avoid the pats on your shoulder and the flashing of the Serpents sign that's telling you" hey alright"," this is a great party", or" nice to see you here chum". The firm hand on your shoulder stops you briefly, and Kaze leans in and tells you in your ear " roof top at midnight, that's two hours to party but, not to hard I need you this side of a coma."

Survivor was at the party early. It was the first big party held since so many of his packmates were released from jail, and it gave him a chance to reacquaint himself with old friends. See who'd survived their time inside, who'd been crippled by it, who might've been convinced to turn against their pack by it.

He nodded when Kaze gave him the message. He hadn't been drinking that much to begin with. The combination of loud noise, whirling bodies, and mingling odors was very disorientating to begin with. He didn't need to make it any worse. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself anyway, but as the evening wore on, he quickly became one of the few people still in complete control of himself, and on a couple of occasions had to keeps pups who'd partied too much and passed out from choking on their own vomit.

He was on the rooftop ten minutes before midnight. If the alpha male had something important to say, he was going to show all due deference while listening to it.

Dane showed up at about the same time as everyone else just about. He never liked to be late to these types of partys. Someone always did something incredebly crazy and entertaining and he didn't wan't to miss it.Kaze's message wasn't a surprize just a disappointment since he felt like tying one on so to speek.
Finally noticing that it was five after midnight he says "Oh slot, here take this I gotta go." and passes the joint to the guy to the left of him. (Fragg there gonna be pissed) he thought to himself as he ran for the roof top.

Back-story


The Rastafarian arrives later in the evening. You see tha’ Yardy walk through the doors with Tub’s, Limey and Brenda (gangers he most likely gave a ride to from Dane’s shop) holding a paper bag (no doubt full of liquor) and a spliff in his lips. The Dready looks the same as you remember him nasty long dreads, ganger jacket with no shirt underneath, sarong and Bone/Bead necklaces dangling over his torso. He splits from the group shortly after entering and mingles into the crowd when a firm hand grips his shoulder. " roof top at midnight, that's two hours to party but, not to hard I need you this side of a coma." He turns to find it’s source and see Kaze’s familiar Asian face.

“’ey môn, quite da’ party ya’ got goo’in on ‘ere….” “Got’tit!” Is his reply eye’s slipping to their darker side as he again recollects the dream from last night! “no time fer’ dat’” He thinks then smiles
“ere’ ya’ go, had’ dis ‘ rolled for ya’ today.” He hands Kaze a spliff from behind his left ear and disappears again into the crowd once more. He parties a bit more, thanking Dane again for letting him crash at his shop. "An' môn ya' need'in ta' get on me bumper, bout fell off on da' way over." Then heads up to the rooftop with a crowd of 7's awaiting what is to come.

Morning

The sun beat down on Johnny’s face as he raised it to the sky. It was a good day to be a free man. Well any day is a good day when you are out of the lock-up. He closed his eyes and just stood there for a minute soaking it up.

“We’ll see ya soon Johnny.” One of the prison guards chuckled to his own joke.

“Frag off.” Johnny didn’t even move his head when he said it. Finally looking out into the prison parking lot he spotted his ride.

Spanky had brought him his bike. He had bought it the day before going inside, hadn’t even had a chance to modify it. Spanky was looking as good as ever. Her black hair was pulled back into a long braid and the skin-tight leathers she worn showed off every curve of her gorgeous body. She had even capped the ends of her smallish tusks in silver. It was a nice touch.

“Hey Stud.” She calls languishing against the Jet-black Aurora. “Wanna go for a ride?”

The phrase held a number of meanings all of which Johnny would enjoy.

“I’m always ready to ride gorgeous.” He replies.

“Hop on then.” Spanky says as she makes way for Johnny to slide onto the bike.

“The gang’s got a little party going on tonight celebrating your guys release,” she tells him as she straddles the bike seat behind him and slips her arms around his torso. She drops her voice into a luscious whisper. “So we have plenty of time to ride all...day...long.”

Johnny reaches behind him with one hand and slaps her tight leather clad ass…hard, which illicits an almost animal-like purr from the orc girl.

Johnny guns the engine and rips out of the parking lot.

Yep. Today IS a good day.


Evening

Evening was rolling around and Spanky was nudging him awake with a playful nibbling of his shoulder. Johnny must have dozed off. Spending a day with Spanky was like running the Seattle Marathon. You worked up a massive sweat and likely ended up with quite few new bruises.

“Only have a couple of hours ‘till the party, stud.”

“Couple of more hours huh?” Johnny rolls over and pins her arms against the headboard “Plenty of time.”


Night

By the time Johnny and Spanky roll up to the party it is in full swing. He gives a nod to those he knows and sizes up any new recruits that have been initiated while he was inside.

When he feels Kaze’s hand on his shoulder he gives Spanky another swat and her beautiful behind. “Got biz baby, Ill catch up with you later.”

“Null Persp.” She replies “Find me before you leave Bull. I ain’t done with you yet.” Spanky saunters off to join some of the other girls at the party.

Johnny listens to what Kaze has to say and then moves to a crowd of 7’s he hasn’t seen in a while to catch up.

06:00:00 A Dingy Studio Apartment in Puyallup

As was his custom, Lee was up before dawn. Carefully sliding out from underneath the blankets so as not to disturb Cassandra, he silently padded over to the windows, where the blinds Cassandra had made herself blocked out any view into the room. Peeking out to look at the sky, he saw with a thin smile that once again, ash and smog had blocked the sun's rays from shining down into Puyallup. The ash filled sky cast a grey shadow over the still slumbering town, as the predators were slinking home and the innocents few that they were, were arousing and beginning another long, empty day.

Sinking to his knees in the center of the room, Lee closed his eyes and let the remnants of his slumber drift away into nothingness. Clearing his mind, he calmly centered himself, allowing his breathing to disburse the flow of chi throughout his body.

With years of practices, all distractions quickly faded into nothingness as his mind emptied of conscious thought and joined his spirit in what could only be described as a joining of mind, and soul. It only remained to add the body to the mix to take the first steps of the day on the path of the Way. His Way. The Way that had called him to this place, and no doubt would compel him to remain for some time to come.

Soundlessly, he rose to his feet, his body instinctively going through the motions of his katas. Circular flowing movements melded seamlessly into quick, violent stabs, only to relent and return to gentle waves flowing on the sand. In his mind's eye, Lee saw an opponent standing in front of him. Stabbing out with his fingers and then his hands, he stuck with blazing speed born of years of practice at various vulnerabilities in his foe's body.

He felt the impact of his fingers into their vulnerable spots, embraced the fluid motions and the blending of his entire self into one flawlessly joined whole. Movement.

To think was to move, and pivoting sharply on his right foot, he whirled and stuck, his hand, shaped like a knife edge, flying towards his opponent's throat, ready to crush their windpipe and leave them a gasping wreck on the floor, shortly before they died from a newfound inability to breathe.

And just as quickly, he stopped, his hand just touching the soft, smooth skin of Cassandra's neck. Looking up into his eyes, she smiled her soft smile. "I never get tired of watching you practice."

Taking a deep breath, Lee returned his hands to his sides, releasing the built up chi back throughout his body. "One of these days, I might not stop in time," he commented as he went to put on his shirt, laying on the chair.

Moving gracefully and quietly to the sink as she began to prepare the tea for their morning ritual of drinking tea together, she answered, "That day will never come, in this lifetime or any other."

Cocking an eyebrow at her after he pulled on his shirt, Lee took a seat at their woefully poor excuse for a table. "What makes you so certain?"

"Because you will always feel my presence in your heart." Glancing at him slyly out of the corner of her eye, she continued, "Or is it so easy for you to believe that one day you will feel it no longer," she chided him gently.

As she moved towards the table and poured their tea, Lee took her hand and looked up at her. Locking his eyes to hers, he kissed her hand softly and whispered, "Never."

They sat in silence as they sipped their tea this morning. Being with Cassandra this morning and knowing they had another day together was enough.

11:50:00 The Party

Standing on the roof where Kaze had instructed them to meet, Lee took the time to reflect in silence as he stared out over the bleak landscape of the Puyallup Barrens. The party was still raging below, but he had only showed up long enough to say hi to everyone and establish his presence, in spirit if not in body.

Lee stayed away from large gatherings and social events where possible. Though his father had raised him to be a warrior and face all and run from none, as he had grown older Lee had gradually found comfort in solitude and nothingness.

Perhaps that is why the Barrens do not bother me so much. We are alike, this place and I. We are seen but not known, present yet never acknowledged, names without an identity, understood only by those whom we choose to make a part of us.

An unassuming individual, tonight he had come dressed in black warmups with dark silver stripes running up the sides. A black sweatjacket with a bandana proclaiming his colors was tied just above his right elbow, and a black ski hat protected his head from the cool spring breeze.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Apparently the first of the others was arriving. Adjusting his fingerless, palmless gloves that concealed the tattooed bones woven through his fingers, he silently picked up the bag concealing his SMG that he had been practicing with earlier today, as he did every day. Moving off to lean against one side of the old, rusted ventilation unit (convenient cover in case this was no friend but foe), he let the bag fall noiselessly within easy reach and unzipped the bag to allow easy access in case he needed it.

Although he was new to the streets, barely two months in, he took no chances. Known only barely by those within the gang, and virtually unknown without, it was doubtful that most would even recognize him even if they saw him in broad daylight. And that was just the way he liked it.

They will be here soon. Let us see who else has been invited to this discussion, and what Kaze yet has in store for us all...

11:51:51 The Party

Johnny’s time with Spanky hadn’t given him much time to talk before he had to move upstairs. He had spotted Dane and Survivor among the party goers, but there was no time to stop and talk. Pushing a couple of young pups, out of his way, Johnny grabs a beer out of one of the makeshift coolers and strides up the stairs. His boots rattled the stairway as he climbs, letting anyone up top know that somebody is coming.

‘Looks like I got here early.’

There was only one figure already on the roof, but not anyone Johnny recognized. He sizes up the human watching him exit the stairs before giving him a simple head nod in greeting.

‘If Kaze wants him here, he must have a reason.’

Johnny twists off the cap and takes a pull off the beer before moving to the edge of the rooftop to watch the party below. The ebb and flow of bodies moving to the pounding music below was almost as hypnotic as the narcotic haze drifting up from it.

‘The wage slaves can have their ivory towers and fancy shindigs. This is real…this is living.’

The sun light hit Mitch hard, as he walked out of Silcox a free man. He squinted trying to block out the sun, he hadn't had his sunglasses when he was arrested so he didn't have them now. He had stopped to think about this taking in the fresh air, when one of the four heavily armed gaurds escorting him out said, "What, you change your mind and want back in?" Thinking back to all those hard months spent passing the time until this very day, Mitch responded, "Nah I'll pass, to nice out here to do anything else."

The police had confiscated the van he was driving when he was busted, after all it was stolen, which Mitch didn't mind because on of the guys that he rounded up when he needed back up was there waiting for him on the outside. Tubs was sitting in a ford americar, something Mitch thought was probably stolen, reading some sort of book. Tubs was so engrossed in his book that he didn't hear Mitch's approach. Jumping and hitting his head on the ceiling as Mitch squeezed into the americar, tubs looked at Legion still shaken up from his silent arrival.

"Collections ain't been the same with out you," tubs said remebering all those times Legion had rolled him out of bed for his "next big score". "Yeah things are going to be alot different now," Legion said thinking of his promotion. "I'll drink to that," Tubs said producing two beers from a cooler in the back. Legion and tubs opened thier beers and made a toast to the future. Putting the car in drive tubs begins to drive back to the party.

"Tubs, run me back by the house before we hit the party I need to collect a few things," Legion said trying to get comfortable in the americar. "Sure thing," tubs says excitedly. Mitch thought it was good to be getting back in the swing of things, and decided on making a few changes after all that time in the pen and it'd be good to stretch his legs again.

Mitch's house had never been clean, he'd kept it that way in case anyone tried to raid it since they couldn't find anything. When he walked into his house expecting to find the mess he had left but, instead found a clean orderly place, he began to get confused. Tubs who had followed him in spoke up when he saw the confused look on Legion's face, "my brother's girlfriend came over and cleaned it up for you, she thought it'd be nice." "It is, it's just a little unexpected," Mitch had always thought of tubs not as a gritty ganger like he was but as some sort of sea captain (which he had no real reason why), and his comment seemed perfectly in line with that. "I'll meet you back at the party Tubs, I want to change and shower." Tubs nodded and returned to his no doubt stolen americar. "And tubs, where'd you get those wheels man." Tubs laughed at this and got into the car. As the americar drove away Mitch began to get ready for the party, he was kind of hungry but knew that nothing in the fridge would be good, so he decided to wait and see what was on the grill.

The water felt good against his skin, they had had showers in the pen, but this was free water, not that stagnate drek you had to bath in on the other side. After his shower, he walked naked back into his bedroom, it was small for him because of his size but it would have no doubt made someone smaller a nice place. Searching through his small wardrobe, he decided on a black liesure suit and his trusty long coat. That jacket had seen it fair share of gun fights, and has saved Mitch's hoop on more than on occasion, on his way out the door he grabs his predator II and placed it in the inside coat pocket of his long coat, along with some spare clips. He wasn't expecting trouble but the gang had continued to function with out him so if he wanted to be up with out any jetlag he might as well come packing.

His bike was just were he'd left it, and after re priming the fuel lines, the BMW roared to life. It took him a little time to get readjusted to riding but he was pulling wheelies by the time he got to the party.

The Blitzen rumbled to a stop near all the other bikes, and Legion put down his kickstand and entered the action. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure his bike hadn't fallen and realized he parked right next to TW and laughed to himself. He made his way through the party, recieving the meassage from Kaze, rooftop midnight and was very glad he had brought his piece.

The enourmous troll wading through partying ganger went unnoticed by only two people, Space, because he had hit the BTLs hard tonight, in honor of the guests of honor of course, and TW, who really couldn't see him from his vantage. He began to regret his choice of attire, but hey he looked nice, and it didn't matter how ridiculous everyone else thought he looked. Legion made his way to where the food was fixing himself a hearty serving of everything, and sitting down on the ground next to a table to eat. After inhaling the grub, he made his way around saying hi to all his old running mates, finding out what they've been doing since his incarceration, and what they've got scheduled for the future. He was dissapointed to learn that his good friend and close ally Raven had been killed, the scrawny elf had watched his back many times and he was sad to hear of his passing. Some of the other members of his old crew had been reassigned to other teams, and he had a total of three people who were still with him, Tubs who had taken over for him in his abscense, and two other guys he didn't know.

After he had had his fill of the party and the synthahol he made his way up the steps to the roof, a new guy Legion didn't recognize was standing alone atop the dark roof. He had come up just in time to see him drop some type of bag on the ground and unzip it. "Take it easy, pal I'm a friend," Mitch could be convincing when he wanted to be with out having to break anything and hoped honestly that the man across the roof from his believed what he said. The man stood in silence gauging Legion trying to discern if he was friend or foe. "I'm Legion, one of the guests of honor," the giant troll said extending his long arm for a shake.

9:30:00 pm Corner of Pacific Avenue South and 112th Street East.

Marty coasted his midnight blue Aurora off the 512 and into a gas station. Suping the engine up the way it was did wonders for the "get up and go," but wasn't so easy on the gas tank. The reflective arcs of lightning on the tank and fenders seemed to crawl with the neon light of the sprawl to the north. But his attention was to the south, and to the howl of engines carried on a warm breeze.

Only another seven or so miles to Loveland, and the doss where the party was gonna be. Too bad the damn bike couldn't squeeze that much more outta the tank.

On any normal day, a wind from the barrens was foul, smoky, and generally not a thing to enjoy. Sure it still stunk like someone had run a diesel engine in the bathroom at the Big Rhino for half an hour, but something about tonight made it different. The heavy air seemed to crackle with a sort of anticipation.

He watched a bike of a rival gang head south, shouting something, and flashing a sign as he went by, the heffer riding bitch almost falling off. Marty gave him his own signal as the fragger drove by.

Yeah that's right ass clown... keep moving.. you know your piece of drek aint got nothin.......on my ....son of a......

The sound of splashing liquid tore his attention back to his bike, the tank now overflowing. He scrambled over to the bike, clicking the handle off on the pump, and hanging it back up.

Good thing these places are automated anymore. Don't want to deal with a pissed off manager at one of the only gas stations in the area.

After wiping down the bike, Marty retreived his credstick from the pump and frowned.


Six and a quarter yen per gallon. Sheezus I can remember when it was 5!

He started up his bike. Quite a bit more throaty than the average Aurora, Marty popped it into first and crept out to the intersection.

The familiar buzz of Yamaha engines seemed to come out of nowhere and rocket to the south. Marty didnt catch their colors, but he didnt care. He could catch up. He smiled and cranked the throttle.


9:42:00 The Party

The midnight blue Aurora pulled up to the building and alongside the row of bikes parked there. Marty dropped the kickstand and leaned it over, careful not to touch anyone else's machine.

He looked up towards Route 7, where that group of bikes he smoked four clicks north of here, passed southbound. He smirked, and headed to the entrance, formulating the best way to tell this one in his head.

Once inside, he grabbed a brew and headed towards the back yard, where most people go to talk, and looked around for anyone he knew. Marty was new to the gang, and hadn't spent much time with them yet, which is why it surprised him to have Kaze himself tell him he was needed. He nodded as if to acknowledge him, but he was already gone. His acknowledgement wasn't returning a courtesy, so much as him mentally noting the message.

Taking a swig off the brew, he moved to the outside.

11:52:00 The Party

"...and I tell ya, if anyone ever tells you road rash isn't that bad, tell 'em to shove it"

After about 5 beers and a shot of tequila.....
Marty had been staggering around the party for about 20 minutes now, and had told that same story about 3 times, and was about to tell how he smoked a trio of Rapiers on the way here, when he was shoved to the side by a big ork. Marty turned around turned around to tell the big bastard to watch where he was goin, when it clicked in his head that he had to be somewhere soon.

He headed to the bathroom, which was occupied, and then to a sink, where he splashed his face with some water, and tried to clean up his look a bit.

Sighing, he turned and headed for the roof, wondering all the while what this was about.

11:52:00 The Party: Rooftop

Scanning the huge troll up and down, Lee mentally ran through the list of names he's heard about all the Serpents in prison. Coming up with Legion's name on his list of recollections, he decides that this is in fact, a friend. Or at least, a fellow ganger.

Undaunted by the almost several feet size difference between them, he strides calmly up to the big troll and grasps his huge hand with his own much smaller one. It really isn't much of a contest strength wise, but he can see in the troll's eyes that he's impressed with the strength of Lee's grip. Especially coming from someone so small.

As they release their grip, he quickly thinks about how to respond to the new arrival on the roof. Lee opts for respect, but without fear, and answers in an appropriate tone, "I've heard a lot about you, it's good to have you out. I'm looking forward to working with you."

He pauses, and almost introduces himself as Lee. After all this time, he's still not used to referring to himself as his street name. "You can call me Penumbra." Before the troll can ask what everyone always asks, Lee clarifies, "Yes, the same as the name of the club."

Everyone always thinks it's because of the club, but that's only because 99.9% of the people he talks to wouldn't know the meaning of the word. He'd chosen it to represent his situation, and found that it fit quite well.

It definitely appealed to his sense of harmony. Deciding that this was as good a person to ask as any what the meeting is all about, he asks, "Do you know why we have been summoned tonight?"

After spending some time mixing it up with the guests at the party and speaking with a few of the U.B.C crew the Dready spots a familiar troll ascending the stairs to the rooftop.
Trying to make his way through the whirling bodies and commotion quickly became a tougher task then he had originally thought. By the time he had reached the top of the stair case he could hear Legions voice just outside of the stairwell.

"Take it easy, pal I'm a friend," his voice calmed as if he had startled someone.

"I'm Legion, one of the guests of honor," Hênni stepped out of the stairwell’s breach and could see the large troll making his way towards the railing and someone else. A relatively new member Kee or Lee.. Yes Lee that was his name.

“Dat’ is all a man’er of opinion môn.” Legion hears the familiar voice from somewhere behind.

The Yardy allows the two to shake hands before he starts in again. “ Hard ta’ miss ya’ in da’t swarm… Good ta’ see ya’ made'tit out of Silcox.” He says with a serious look on his face.

“Would ‘ave t’ought you ta’ mangle to many o’ dem’ guards in d’ere ô’n dey’ lock jah’ down an’ t’rew away da’ key” He kids around with the big troll that once inhabited a cell only a few down from his in D pod.
“Well as I said môn last we in de’ yard, got’ta spliff rolled up for ya’, cause I t’ought ya might be need’in some gonga’.” The Dready slowly pulls a large freshly rolled joint from behind his ear his face twisted into a sly grin

He turns from Legion to Penumbra, though keeps the Joint extended for the big troll to grab. Giving a slight nod in his direction "Hênni ta' some Yardy ta' most." His distinctive Jamaica accent explains the rest to you.

The Natty Dread looks around taking in the others that have already arrived. Survivor he recognizes though the other is still mostly unknown to him. Looking across the small rooftop to Johnny. "Dat' is what all is for no doubt 'bout it." he thinks silently to himself.

The thoughts of earlier this morning again rang clear in his head A fate would be changed and balance would be shifted. Yet to what end, that part was still unclear. It was exactly that very thought he was most afraid of.

Dane's dirty black boot silently reaches the last step at the same time as he notices Henni firing up a spleef while talking to Legion and Prenumbra. Slowly he positions himself to be next man in the rotation.

Tatsu whipped his bike through the streets with an intensity that comes from only being able to imagine the ride for the last few years. It was a good way to start the day.

He had spent the day with a girl he had seen only through vidscreens for the last few years. Silcox had not been keen on visitors. She was a sight for sore eyes, for sure. Though Japanese, her hair was bright red, drawn into pigtails and her eyes were large, green and liquid. Her body rocked like a night witch, with ornate tattoos that she must have gotten recently to cover up some of the hideously amateur work he remembered. She was excellent at finding ways to spend his cred. They spent the day in his apartment and the evening gathering some groceries for tonight's grill.

Quickly wrapped up into a couple dice games and then settling into a seat at a table to throw some bones, he catches up with Jazzy, Bad-Bones and Herbie the Clockstopper of the UBC. They swap stories as they throw the dominos down with a friendly rowdiness. It is good to see so many people still pushing air.

The dancefloor was alive and hopping and the gang's usual songs were amping them up. Blame dropped tracks that had become gang favorites, changing them up enough to surprise the crowd. He had packed her DJ gear in and set it up just a couple hours ago and ever since the atmosphere had been a cacophony of drum and bass, and taiko. The grooves turned Tatsu on his ear and drew him toward her.

Done with the domino game, he thanked his buddies and hit the floor. It was time he found the person responsible for all this dancing. There were hotties all over tonight, girls he had never seen before. There were all sorts of fresh faces, really. It was not a surprise considering Kaze's drawing power. It would take some time to get to know them all but for now, it was enough that they were Serpents.

Through the smoke he spots Blame and approaches to give her a signal. She wraps herself around him and he lays a kiss on her while scanning the room. Peering through the smoky ruckus, he finds the pair that he sought approaching. Disentangling himself from the DJ, he converses with an Asian elf and a scrawny ork who reeks of tobacco. Blame takes a pull from the bottle of plum wine and passes it off to Tatsu as she lowers the volume... a little.

Tatsu accepts the bottle and he shouts over the din until people start listening. Now those who don't know him tense up a bit because he sounds absolutely pissed off, but if you've spent twelve minutes with the guy you know this is how he sounds all the time even though he has a pretty cool head one hundred percent of the time. By the time they've figured out what was going, they hear the tall Japanese gangster suggesting, "Let's give a shout out to our brothers! The ones who made it back and the ones who didn't!"

The crowd shouts out a roll call of gang members whom this party honors, spilling synthahol to the floor for the dead and acknowledging the ex-cons who are present with hoots and hollers. The fresh blood associates names with faces as the group recognizes Bad-Bones, Legion and Johnny. Whelps and whistles punctuate each sentence as he raises the bottle in salute, "Welcome back to the shaba, the outside. Welcome back to serpent's nest. Home no? Welcome back to the family and welcome back to the party!"

Blame senses the timing is right and the redhead drops some bass, a resounding thud felt internally by all present and the dancers bump back into motion as the smooth rhythm pounds out a gang anthem. A chorus hits and many on the floor take up the chant with boisterous vigor,
"What's real crime?
Hardrock doing time for puffin' the boom.
All shacked up in a tiny room.
Snake in the grass,
better watch your ass."
And so on.
The tribe enjoys life.

On this queue, Spinner and Chains scattered dozens of neon objects across the floor. The trinkets buzzed to life, skittering amongst the feet of the party people and sending all colors of sparks arcing upward. It was like fireworks spraying from the ground up. The room was alight with camaraderie and high spirits. Tatsu watched his family dance in the shifting lights.

Tatsu headed to the balcony to lean out for some fresh air. knew he was back home when he saw the string of bikes below, parked outside of the party. At least twice as many as he'd seen at a homecoming party and he did not recognize most of them. The gang had grown. A tap on the shoulder, and he gets the word from Kaze.

On the rooftop, he checks his watch.

Survivor perched on the edge of the rooftop, watching the party going on below. He heard others start to arrive behind, his ears identifying each one as they arrived. His head snapped up when he heard, ""I'm Legion, one of the guests of honor." He'd seen the big troll moving through the crowd, but had't had a chance to approach him.

"It's good to see you again, Mitch," he said, once Lee and Hênni had finished saying their peace. "Things just have't been the same without our number one roller." He stared Mitch in the eye as they shook hands, squeezing as hard as he could. It was a dominance contest he was destined to lose, but the old greeting ritual reassured him, along with the pain that briefly flared in his hand as he shook it out when they finally broke contact.

The smoke rising from Hênni's tickled his nose, making him sneeze, and he waved it off when offered his way.

"Ha Ha, Henni you know me too well," Legion said taking the blunt from Henni and nodded in appreciation. He slips the joint into his outer coat pocket careful to hide it's nature from anyone who might be looking. "For later," and he again nods to Henni. Mitch had been thinking that penumbra sounded very familiar, but not some seedy club, and then it came to him, the white ring around an eclipse, he dare not say this aloud however, better to keep the big dumb troll act up in case one of these new guys is two timin'.

Moving over to the roof's edge Legion sat down and let his feet hang over the edge. He sometimes liked to do this to show himself that he wasn't the biggest thing in the universe, his father had always said that no matter how big you grow, or how strong you get, there is always somebody whos stronger. Pondering penumbra's question he said," No idea I just go out today, I hoped you'd know, what you think Henni, whats Kaze got up his sleve." Mitch didn't care that he'd waited too long to answer the question, after all he was a big dumb troll. You need to stop using that as a crutch mitchy or you might just wind up a big dumb troll. It had always chilled him when his subconcious spoke up like that, and this time it was no exception. He turned and stood from the edge and walked to the center of the roof, feeling the subtle bending of the support beams in the roof as he did so. It's getting close to midnight, were is Kaze, or Bad-bones for that matter, hadn't he been let out the same time as me, eh they'll be along shortly I'd imagine.

Strolling toward the group, Tatsu belts out, "It's the movers, the shakers, the troublemakers!"

He sounds pissed but he appears glad to see the old gang back together again. Just a couple heads short, but they'd be here in a moment.

Shrugging off his leather bike jacket, he scans the rooftop assembly with a bespectacled look of cool anticipation. "Who are we jumping in?"

Legion's last words slowly swirl with in the depths of his mind. " No idea I just go out today, I hoped you'd know, what you think henni, what’s kaze got up his sleeve." He waits until the gonga makes another round and takes it from Dane's hand. It has shrunk considerably in size since he started rotation, lightly with two finger pinched he lifts it to his lips. His dark ebony face begins to glow a soft crimson hue as the joint sparks to life from the quick influx of air that surges throughout it.

"Tiss' somet'ing all ta' be find'in out soon enough." He speaks, in the usual cryptic writtings.

"De' out come' is still ta' be, an dat' even I don't know." He takes the spleef out of his mouth the glowing hue transferring to his right hand where the tattoo of Gaboon Viper wraps around a crooked 7.

It has always seemed to any who knew this strange Rastafarian that deep with in him lay a sense of knowledge. Perhaps the backlash of seeing too much of future that is to come, maybe understanding gained through potent spells or some other dark rituals he knows about. This is what made him such a useful Pirate in the waters of the Caribbean. It is always good to know the other vessels next move before they make it. Yet at an early age he has also learned, information gained should not be given unless it is truly need by the other. Besides sortilege is just that, vague messages gain by one’s own means. Sometimes he is not even sure what the truths are.

The Yardy is brought back from deep contemplation by a soft nudge from Blacky. Looking around he realizes those thoughts are holding up rotation and in this realm of smokers code its puff puff give. So Hênni holds the joint out to the others, when none seem willing to except the rotation is reverse back to Dane.

In the false illumination of the rooftop’s pole lighting he forces a somber smile to lighten his mood from those last thought. “Will be’ find’in out soon enough d’at is for sure. But would guess’on Kaze e’ze called use all ‘ere for de’ skills we possess. An e’ll be need’don what we all côn’ offer to da’ gang.” Again telling little more then all have probably guessed thus far.

"Your still the same ol' Henni, never tellin' what you'd find out in a minute," the troll who had not been participating in the circle jokingly said. He had felt the strong urge to spark up when his pal had lit the joint, and had resisted it up till this point, but the undeniable tug was creeping its way to he smoking hand. Kaze had said this side of a coma and Mitch had never been much for moderation, anyone whos seen the troll in action could vouch for that, so for Mitch it was all or nothing.

The thing about smoking was, you couldn't quit. Not because you were addicted but because you just didn't want to. Deciding he was spending too much time thinking about the herb that was being passed, he pulled out a cigar, a habit he'd picked up from the slammer, and lit it. He took a deep drag, letting all of the silky aroma drift into his lungs. A cigar was no substitute for "da 'erb" as henni'd call it but with mitch it was all or nothing.

The sound of a new arrival to our small "private" party, shifted his attention from Mitch's words. He turned to see Tatsu casually strolling up, the sometimes hyper-active Japanese always had a way making light out of any situation.

Hênni“ ‘Eared yah’ over da’ speakers, always liked ‘dat chônt.” His somber smile then turn wide across the whole of his face.
Hardrock doing time for puffin' the boom.
" All shacked up in a tiny room.
Snake in the grass,
better watch your ass.”
And so on.
The tribe enjoys life.What's real crime?” Allowing its words to replay in his mind.
“Yah’ almost missed rotat’ion.” Making mention to the joint’ that Blacky has no doubt smoked down to a small roach.

His thoughts in a way mirrored those of Tatsu’s it was good to have the gang back again. It’s tough when you, and most likely others are cooped up in a cell, awaiting you’re one chance at freedom again. Thinking over all you did wrong, and how if given a chance you would probably do it again, Just Better!

The Dready shifted his gaze form the rooftop to the sky over head. Overcast as usual dull and gray against the lighter shades of city lights; far off to the north a blue line ran it’s path across the horizon. Lights from the distant inner city no doubt ever shining, ever present there it was daytime all year around. Here in Seattle (outskirts of) there was a sense of being inside some great building. Even atop this roof the weight of the clouds lay heavy on the Rastafarian’s shoulder, out of the “joint” freedom still felt along way off. Man he missed Jamaica! "Atleast d'ere a per'son côn see de' heav'onz an' starz'."


Perhaps that’s why he would usual cracked a smile around Tatsu , the sometimes hyper-active Japanese always had a way making light out of any situation.

More and more of the gang was assembling on the roof-top. Johnny turns away from the party when he hears Legion’s voice.

“Good to see you made it out.” He says to the big troll. They hadn’t seen much of each other in Silcox. Occasionally they would talk in the yard, but were kept separate in lock-up as was customary with known gang members. He greets Dane and Henni in turn, excepting a hit off the spliff in turn before passing it back to the Rasta.

“Thanks Henni.”

Johnny smiles at Tatsu enterance. The Japanese man could always lighten the mood.

“Hey Tatsu, you been holding down the fort, while we’ve been on vacation?”

Tatsu flashed a grin at Henni, "That's alright, Kurohebi. Maybe I'll toke on the next one."

He looks up to the sky, following Henni's gaze for a few moments and then decides that whatever the spiritual Jamaican sees there, it is not visible to himself. Though he is reminded of the freedom they are now enjoying, the beautiful 'shaba'.

He throws his grin at Johnny when he asks about things and looked toward the others in the group remembering that some of them had only been out a day. He tried to get a sense of how they felt about being called up here on the first night out. "My first night out, two weeks ago, they had me on a jet to the Bay Area. It was like a vacation brother. I had to convince my family to let me stay on here. Actually, that was kinda what they wanted anyway. I caught the flight back early this morning in time for this. Looks like Nisha's been taking care of things." He gestures toward Survivor with an appreciative nod.

He sniffs and observes, "It's quite a party downstairs. Where did all these new kids come from?"

For some reason, the last stair to the rooftop seemed to come way too slow.

Shaking his head to try and clear a little of the alcohol induced haze, Marty stepped out on to the roof. Looking up, he spots the group passing the j around, and tries to place each one. The Rastaman is easy enough to place, but a few of the others were unfamiliar.

Noticing a few of the "special guests," the party was supposedly held for in the group, he raised an eyebrow as questions flooded his foggy mind.

Looking out over the barrens cityscape towards his house, he shook his head one more time and headed over to the circle, looking for a something to use as a chair on his way over.

Settling on an old bucket, he dragged it over to where the others were standing, looking for a space where he could fit into the rotation.

"New Kids?" He said, replying to a question that wasnt directed at him. "I guess that's what I am, isnt it?"

Tatsu rubs on his own scalp for a moment while he regards the new arrival through his shades. When he speaks, it is a shout. He jokes, "Like this guy here. Where did all of you new faces come from?."

Startled a little bit by the abrupt volume of his voice, Marty jumps a little. Instinctively, he reaches over and rubs his left shoulder through his old faded green military jacket as he responds.

"Hell, I didn't know there were that many new folks around here. Far as I know, a few of you just got out of the clink, and the rest of them around here have been here for a while."

The Yardy looks to Crash with intense eyes, dark and menacing slit's begin to appear as the "Mask" takes over. Time seems to stop for all as he slips out of his spot in the now formed Ring. With no more than two steps the 6'2" Jamaican reaches the man feeling quite drunk on his bucket. What is this about? Why would he stare this one down? Does he see something in this one you all could not? Violence? Will he attack? Is this one of those unknown secrets he seems to hide? That wouldn't make sense would it?

Yet when he reaches the other soothing words are heard form on his lips...

" Tiss' all right môn, yah' back w'it friends now." As he speaks his right hand now pulsing with the healing energy slowly reaches Marty's shoulder to steady him atop his bucket.

Cast

Hênni " Ti's da' wayz' of de' world môn. Time's, like tide'z on de' beach, swaying wi't de' flow of da' real." He answers Tatsu's question as he try's to help Crash regain abit of composure.
"An each tide'z rise brings wi't it more shell'z, all 'aving it's on per'pos on da't sand. Just like you'rz an mine"

"I hope dat' will help yah' boy." is what he says to Crash

" We all will come, an' in time' we all go. Just when da't time is?" he leaves the question unfufilled. Then turns and looks into Tatsu's eyes, there is a weight in those words. Yet like the edges of a sword, there are all ways two blades one holds peace and defense. The other........


" Hhmmph... No need for dat' now." he speaks to Tatsu shruging off his last words... To take himself and others to those dark places now would seriously dampin the mood of the party atmosphere.
Or maybe this rasta's just getting to high

Shoving his obscenely oversized-lensed shades back into place, Tatsu nods a bit.

The Rastafarian talked in circles and was a bit of a buzzkill at the moment... but there was an undeniable wisdom floating around the man. They all had a cosmic purpose. Enjoy their company while they are still with us, and so on. Tatsu was glad that the gang had been infused with some fresh blood, but hoped they were not all as washed up as Henni made it sound.

He thought about ocean tides and the cycles in his life that bring him back to this roof with this crew. Just a few weeks ago he was locked up with half of these people, but they all caught a wave back here. It was a fun perspective.

Now if the ocean is pulling you this way and that, landing you on a destined beach, what can you do to change it, for the better? Become a surfer? Paddle out and choose the next spot you land? There's some control. Or what if you steal a boat and travel further? The next beach you choose could be further away, present you with more choices. He looked around and thought that there was no need for any that, he knew these others and he knew this beach. This is the place where he should make a difference. It all made a sort of sense. Sort of.

He sniffed, and brought himself mentally back to the 'now'.

Marty's eyes widened as the big Jamaican made his way over to him. Not knowing what to expect, he started to rise, when the hand clamped down on his shoulder.

As the magic flowed through him, his bleary eyes sharpened, as the world seemed to come into focus.

He was still in the process of standing up when he found he could do so without staggering, and almost tripped over himself, overcompensating for the stupor that was no longer there.

Crash looked at Henni, and his shoulders sank "Thanks... and Sorry about that. I didn't think I was that far gone. It helped a lot."

Turning back to the rest of the crew. "I guess you guys are right. plenty of people down there I've never seen before, but hey, its better than less, eh? Anyway.. you guys up here for the same thing I am? Or just lookin to get some air?"

You can tell someone is coming up the stairs as the party gets louder from the door being opened. Kaze and another figure emerge from the concealment of shadow and structure of the stairway. Kaze gives quick glances to each of you, and motions with his right hand: stop. The other figure walks into view, out of the shadows and into the combination of soft moon light and failing halogen lights. The skinny, long haired ganger is a familiar face, being a long time serpent....
4-stroke is his handle. He claims its for his liking of older Rapier cycles...Brenda says otherwise. 4-Stroke looks around eyes darting to some of the half concealed members as Kaze speaks." So, what happened? They said we were short?"
4-Stroke stammers out."They're wrong, they shorted us on their end." Kaze slowly turns to 4-Stroke with a look of uncertainty.Kaze peers in Henni's direction briefly, and after seeing the slight nod Henni gives; Kaze blinks and then smiles." You must be right 4-Stroke, on their end." Kaze's Right hand motions to the stairway and then drawing it into himself while saying." You can go, or would you like to stay?" 4 stroke takes no time in replying" I'll go!".

As 4 stroke turns to leave Kaze non-chaliantly orders." Legion, He should stay"
Turning in Kazes direction at the order 4 stroke only has a moment of fear in his eyes as the large Troll lifts him into the air with an uppercut to the stomach. Half stunned the scrawny ganger is in no shape to defend himself from the sheer size and strength of Legion. The ganger is held in an arm bar, and bent over at the waist. Kaze grabs him by the hair and lifts his head up to whisper in his ear. Between the whispers 4 Stroke sobs, begs and proclaims its not him. Obviously looking at Henni, Kaze waits for his counselors judgement. Getting another unsatifactory nod,Kaze half slams, half lets 4 strokes head slump down.

Heavy bootsteps fall on the last stair. Bad-Bones emerges and takes a quick step back." Whoa...that isnt the punishment from being late is it?" he says peering at the center of everyones attention." Really i'd have been here earlier but, i was with a real knockout of a hooker." Kaze takes a brief moment, smiles at Bad-Bones and replies." He's already had three warnings to be on time." It would have been funny in a Trid-show, but this was serious biz.

Kaze reaches behind to the small of his back, and produces an Ares Predator. Looking at everyone in the face, Kaze settles on one face. Walking slowly towards Crash, Kaze stares into his eyes, searching. Mere inches from Crash's face Kaze doesnt speak only stares, but his stare is posing a hard question.The pistol grip is nudged into Crash's right hand.

Tatsu grasped the situation right away, and catching 4-Stroke's dishonesty he saw where it was going. Before Kaze had even pushed the Predator toward Crash, Tatsu was scanning the ground below and the other rooftops for spectators. This rite of initiation was a privilege to attend but he wanted to make sure it was still a private affair.

The mood on the roof just got deadly serious.

‘Man, what a buzz kill. Looks like 4-stroke got caught with his hand in Kaze’s cookie jar.’

Johnny watches the new faces reaction to the impending violence. It was never a good thing to see a fellow member go bad. It just wasn’t right.

‘You steal for one Serpent, you steal from the rest of us, it’s just the way it is.’

The pistol nearly falls from his hand as Marty stands stunned, looking quickly from 4-Stroke, Kaze, and to the others. His head swims with questions, and suddenly, it is apparent he wishes he was still drunk.

Crash blinks, and regains his composure, gripping the pistol so tightly, his knuckles go white.

I've shot men before, once I've even killed one, but it wasn't like this. What'd this guy do? Sounds like he's been on the take, and he's done it more than once. Why dont they just warn him and kick him out of the gang? Tell him never to come back.... take his bike....


The pistol grip seemed ice cold in his slightly shaking hand as he brought it up to feel the steel of the slide, and find the safety.

His thumb clicked the safety to the fire position, and lowered it again to his side, the gun becoming extremely heavy.

Marty looked up to the faces of the other members on the rooftop, then back to 4-Stroke. His eyes stop wavering; the gun follows suit.

But that's not how it works here. He's not some corp suit and this isn't the goddamn suburbs. There is no welfare program, and the cops don't give a rats ass who they hurt. All we have is each other, and this asshole just took a steaming shit on that trust. It's guys like him that get good people killed.....plus he rides a Rapier. What a douchebag.

Crash raises his head, looks towards the crumpled form of 4-Stroke, and grimaces.
His first step towards him seems labored... but the rest easy, as he advances to him and touches the muzzle of the pistol to 4-Stroke's head.

Kaze steps behind Crash, and what is meant to be a whisper carries over for all to hear in as a percieved silence encompasses the rooftop." This is a threshold moment, take it." Kaze's hand slips over Crash's steadying his aim on 4-Stroke.

Crash nudges the barrel of the Predator under 4-Stroke's chin, and lifts his head.

So that's what it's like to look into the eyes of a dead man.

I don't even know this clown.

But we could have all been killed because of him.

If I don't do it, someone else will... This guy is dead already.....

Then why does it matter who does it?

But he's helpless... the guy is begging for his life!

Doesn't mean he deserves to live.....

But doesn't he even get a chance?

Think he'd give you that same chance?

No way...

What about my Mom and Jenny, what will they think?

They'll know you did what you had to do to protect them.. just like with your Dad

He's not my Dad....

Doesn't he look like him, at least a little bit? That same scheming look maybe?

Marty's mind came crashing back into focus. His eyes steady, his grip on the gun sure. He looked 4-Stroke straight in the eyes, and pressed the muzzle against the sniveling man's forehead between them.

He didn't even notice Kaze's hand helping him steady until he pulled the trigger....

Kaze's hand slides from Crash's hand and up to the warm barrel of the Predator.Wrenching the pistol out of Crash's hand is harder than expected, as Crash holds it in a white knuckled death grip. Kaze waits for Crash to look up at him.Smiling and nodding Kaze meets his eyes saying." You crossed over that threshold, there's noway back now." That pierces Crashs ears almost like a carefully veiled threat, no it was a compliment of sorts...a Fragging double edged compliment.

Kaze grinning fully, looks down at 4 Stroke and the blood splattered mess he's made." Legion, I'd apologize about ruining that suit of yours but, lets face it. It was so last year, the year you went to prison."

Dane inches forward with anticipation in his eyes.He reaches into his pocket to pull the joint of crypie he was saving for a special moment and this is it!

Pull it, pull it,put that trigger he thinks to himself. this is that crazy moment of the day that he was waiting for.That little thieving scum sure I steal from everone. Everone thats not a serpent. "Ooh...I cant wait to see his brains splatter all over" he says silently to any one that can hear him. He places his hand in his pocket to caress his beloved blackjack thinking of all the skulls he has cracked with it.

Dane yells with exitement: "No boby touch him I need to find a camera i want to take a picture and blow it up for the wall of my shop."

Through it all, Lee just stands and watches silently, expressionless. Another face in the crowd up on the roof. He felt nothing watching Crash struggle with his dilemma, and he felt nothing hearing the sobs and pleas of 4 Stroke , neither before nor after his death. He had chosen his path. He paid the consequences for that choice. Such was destiny. But Kaze had not called them up here just for this. So what was next? What did he really call this meeting for?

Tatsu sniffed and considered the comments from Dane. Well, that is a new level of morbid.

After letting out a celebratory woot , Tatsu slaps Crash on shoulder in congratulation, complimenting in his booming voice, "Well done, brother!"

And that's how a new face is accepted into his world as family, just like that. He doesn't even know this punk's name, just that he is a Serpent and that is what is important.

He steps back a few paces to be sure to stay out of the gore. He looks back across the rooftops not for spectators this time, but with the intention of looking useful. There was a great party downstairs to get back to and if he was not careful he'd have to help clean this mess up. That's be about a half hour of messy work that he was not in the mood for. Poor Legion was already wearing the right clothes for that job... ruined.

In the short pause after helping Crash back from his drunken stupor the party gets louder from the door being opened. He watches as Kaze and 4-Stroke emerge from the stairway. Having already spoken about this a few days’ back quickly he dug down deep to find the right magic that channeled the Meta realm with in his. It was sluggish to bring forth, having spent already some of his mana on Detoxing Crash and now glad he did. This must have been part of his vision, a larger part that was unseen. Perhaps he was right, things are as they are time might have them set up like pieces of a board. Even though it has shown him the way this night turns out, he was still uncertain on who would be the catalyst and why………he would use his powers this day.

The Sixth World


The Real
In the flickering of the rooftop pole lighting (halogen), you notice the longer the scene plays out the more the Rasta’s heed begins to slump. Aware he seems yet not quite to you personally. The long dreads droop lip over his face, which now seems stern and grave. The “mask” begins to show as well his eyebrows begin to developed dark patches in the shape of Diamond’s (like the strips over a Gaboon’s eyes). You can also notice soft serpentine scales begin to emerge and fade, their shifting patterns casting throughout his face.

The Sixth World


The Real
He took in the scene now coming clear to him, yet things where not right. There over the body of 4-Strokes stood Marty not the War Boss. balance would be shifted……… Again rang true in his head that made sense now. Yet there was one more thing, the last part of the vision.

He scanned all the other Hardcores trying to take note of their positions. There was one thing more he saw…… Right before the gun went off, another red aura had sparked to life. It’s source with-in the shade of the Sixth World made it impossible for him to tell whom. It was not Legion’s that was for sure, he was standing over the body of the dead ganger. Obviously holding him down until the end, and it was not Crash’s Since he was the shooter. That left only seven more…

The last though before all the cobwebs where shaken from his head was
Yet to what end, that part was still unclear. It was exactly that very thought he was most afraid of…………

Survivor prowled the edges of the crowd, keeping to the background, getting as much information from the way people stood, and spoke, as from what they said. He paused when the door opened and 4-Stroke came onto the roof. At that moment there had been a palpable change to the mood on the roof.

"So, what happened?" Kaze's voice made the nape of his neck prickle. "They said we were short?"

4-Stroke stammered, and Survivor tensed. Fear was rolling off of him in waves, and his body language became defensive. "They're wrong, they shorted us on their end."

Kaze slowly turned to 4-Stroke, giving him a look of uncertainty. Survivor wasn't sure that was his genuine feeling. " You must be right 4-Stroke, on their end." Kaze's right hand motioned to the stairway. The posture of his body made the movement seem like a threat. "You can go, or would you like to stay?"

4 stroke took no time in replying" I'll go!" he said, and Survivor immediately knew his former packmate was doomed. The warm, greasy feel of 4-Strokes relief mingled with the acrid, chemical scent of Kaze's lethal intent, and then both were quickly smothered beneath the wave of shock and terror as Legion's fist took 4-Stroke off his feet. The combination, along with the scent of weed, eagerness, and anticipation coming off of the others on the roof made him feel slightly nauseas. Why had the Alpha brought them all here to see this? Did he want to make sure that those newly released knew he still had the stones to be top dog? 4-Strokes had been in the Serpents almost long as he had. Did Kaze think that the old guard needed a reminder of the way things were run?

Then he saw the gun being pressed into Crash's hand and understood that along with everything else, it was to be an initiation as well. He tensed as the feeling of anticipation on the roof mounted to an almost unbearable, uncertainty radiating from Crash. Then Kaze steadied his hand, and the mood broke with the sound of a single gun shot, all the scents from before overwhelmed by the clean, sharp smell of burned gun powder, and the heavy scent of fresh blood and meat.

It actually made him feel a little hungry. He turned his eyes to the Alpha, uncertain as to what would happen next.

Smelling the Joint that Dane has just lit up, he staggers over to the other man.


" Could' I get a hit o' dat'?" the yardy's voice is a bit weak.
"Shame for dat' one, but glad yah' 'ere Crash" he speaks to Marty who seem still a bit shaken' from his ordeal. But that is something he will have to live with. It is good that he Detox'ed him when he did, a badly drunken inductee' might have turn out more fatal.

"Well môn?" He looks to the spliff and smiles bring himself back to life a bit.

"yeah, you can hit it. Even though I shouldn't since you put those fragging chickens back in the van after I spent all that time spiffin up the inside you ungrateful worlock."

Dane then passes the spleef over Henni with a semi sarcastic expression on his face

Mitch watches Crash's shaking hands as he levels the gun under 4-stroke's chin. The way he'd aimed it Mitch was looking to take the brunt of all the grey matter that would result from the shot. Kaze seeming to read Legion's mind and corrects the aim. Legion stood in silence holding the begging bastard under his arm, he could feel him squirming with each breath Crash took tensing his muscles in anticipation of the end. The thought of killing a man had never bothered Mitch so he couldn't relate to Crash's delima, but he still tried to look him in the eyes to say, it's okay just squeeze it and it will all be over. And he did. The gun shot seemed to ring in Mitch's ear for ever. The lifeless corpse the he was now holding was slowly growing cold, "Did you have a plan to get rid of the body, or did you want me to take care of it?" He adjusted the body under his arm. His suit was ruined and he needed to shower. It wasn't the first time his white hair had been covered in blood, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but all the same it still bugged him.

He hasn't killed before. At least, not in cold blood. So, some shreds of innocence were washed away from this evening's intiation, it would seem. I wonder how it will affect him. Obviously some of the others could care less about death, perhaps even revel in it. To others, it is just business. What about when they look at me? I wonder what they see in my eyes when death is the subject at hand...?

Lee continues watching, in silence, letting the drama unfold before his eyes. Quietly, calmly, waiting for Kaze to bring the meeting back on track.

The Jamaica laughs at Dane's comment

"So'o be it' but I don' see yah' complain'in when yah come over to my apart'ment for chick'ôn soup. Or is dat' just an' excuse for jah' to get a pick at me Hydro-syst'imz next crop (he tries to copy the Chopshop owners Accent) ya' Fragg'ôn T'hief." With that he take the Cypie joint ( no doubt filled with weed grown from his crop. Since he gave Dane the first pick just last week )

He takes a hit the soothing feel of the Herb seems to take some of the weight of what he had just done away. "T'iss kind'a good, now' ta get dat' out o' de' way." Hênni thought. Those visions and their meanings had been sticking him like a thorn in the side from the time he awoke earlier this morning.

The rest of the evening he can be seen with a some what light smile on his face.

Crash stands in front of the mess, barely conscious of Kaze taking the gun from his grip. The entire experience seems surreal. The air seems thick, and even on the rooftop, it seemed to be stuffy. The world had slowed to a crawl, and everything was blanked out except the ringing in his ears.


Then a hand clapped him in the shoulder. Things seemed to speed up. His senses finally seemed to synch with his surroundings. Crash turned to Tatsu and managed a smile and a shrug, then turning to nod to Henni, in a bit of clouded comprehension. Was it something about the tides?

The welcomes didn't sit well with him just yet, but he was able to understand what people were saying at least, and that was good enough for him.

"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.."

He looked again over the cityscape. Something had changed. Maybe the neon was a bit dimmer, or maybe the smog had blown out to sea, but something was out there, and he didn't know what it was, though he was getting a good idea, and in the back of his mind he could hear Kaze's words echo ...there's no way back now... and could still feel the slight powder burns on the side of his finger.

Maybe they can incorporate that into the gang tattoo, make it look like the serpent is breathing fire.

Scanning the faces of the others, Marty looked for some sign of what made him chosen for such a feat.

Did it matter? Did it affect me that much?


"Anyone want to go for a ride after this?"

I suppose not.