An Unkindness of Ravens (The IC)

[The Xtreme One]

An Unkindness of Ravens (一个侍候的乌鸦)

"Session 1: In Loving Memory..." (在爱好和平内存...)

The young man stood staring out across the bay, his slim and athletic frame wrapped up in a mid-length black jacket and red scarf. It was 7:01am in San Francisco, California. He held the warm to go cup in his gloved hand as a breath escaped his lung, entering the cold air surrounding him. “Rick, my boy. If you wanted to see me, you could’ve just came by the office” An old man called, his face withered by seventy five years of sun and a lifestyle unbecoming of a respectable businessman. Sitting down on a nearby bench the old man smiled.“I’d shake your hand but there’s too much blood on it” He chuckled lightly as the younger man now identified as Rick took a seat next to him. “Funny. How’s your granddaughter, Charlie? Eighteen yet?” He handed Charlie is cup with a smile. “I know you hate coffee so I got you some hot chocolate instead” The Ravenglass inductee of 1963 smiled as he took the cup and had a small sip. “You’re a good boy, Rick. So, what’s up kiddo? Why are we having this little meeting?”

“Grandpa asked me to talk to you about our man in Mexico. He’s under your crew right?” Charlie nodded his old head. “Yeah, Teng. He’s been working with our guys harbour side to bring in the steel. What’s the problem?” He coughed slightly, suddenly feeling very unwell but this was something that happened to him often at his age. “Teng is dead. He was going to turn State’s, so Grandpa organized a little business trip for me to go and see him, if you catch my meaning. It’s your crew Charlie, you’re responsible for them and any action they take is on you. Am I making myself clear?” The old coughed again as he gripped his cup a little tighter. “I had no idea, Rick. Surely the Chairman knows that?” Sighing through his nose, the young Red Pole looked out to the bay again as the mix of red and blue in the distance continued to glow. “As I was sticking railroad spikes into his hands, Teng told me that you were very much aware of him turning and that you promised to stay silent knowing full well that because of your seniority there would be a good chance for you to be made Mountain Master, or even Dragonhead if Grandpa went down. Of course, Teng knew I was still going to kill him regardless of what he said so…really he had no reason to lie to me. How’s your drink?”

Charlie looked down at the cup and coughed once more, only this time blood suddenly came up with it. “You…you poisoned…” Suddenly he found himself without a voice. “I did and I hate to do this Charlie but you left us no choice. It’s a shame really but hey, look on the bright side at least with you out of the way, your business will get a lot more profitable” Rick’s handsome face was covered with a sick smile as Charlie looked at him with utter disgust, he managed enough strength to utter his final words. “…you’re…a…fucking animal…” His ancient eyes closed as he fell into unconsciousness and slowly succumbed to death. Rick reached into his jacket and pulled a small white cloth from it. “Yes I am” He said as he wiped the blood from around Charlie’s mouth and chin. “Goodbye Charlie” He took the tissue and threw it over the guardrail and into the sea before leaving the dead body of Charles Kuo all but alone on the pier. His only companion, a lone raven sitting on the railing, waiting to carry his soul onward.

Rick had a meeting with a few of his fellow Ravens at Wu Export offices downtown and he didn't want to be late. He knew how much Grandpa hated tardiness...

[MacabreFox]

Cold. The first thought Ruellen Wong had, was that of the temperature in her bedroom. Freezing cold. Grunting in annoyance, Ruellen snuggled deeper into her blankets and glared angrily at the light that slipped through the blinds on the window. She tried to close her eyes and fall back asleep, but the longer she waited for sleep to take her, Rue could feel her body becoming restless. Anxious to start the day despite the ungodly hour it was. Speaking of which...Her hetero-chromatic eyes flickered over to her alarm clock; the red numbers glowing viciously at her: 5:49 A.M. Damn. She might as well start her day, no point in laying around in bed waiting for sleep to come when that cursed morning light kept her awake. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Rue kicked off the mass of blankets violently. Finding herself to be free of them, she stepped onto the hardwood floor. Standing tall, or rather short in her case, Rue stretched her body, fingers and limbs pointed in every which direction. As her muscles were pulled tight, the tiredness in them began to recede. Now, Rue was ready to start her day, or so she thought as she face-planted herself on the wooden floor.

With her forehead resting uncomfortably against the frigid floor, Rue let herself lay there in frustration. Could she not do anything right?
"Kyah!" Rue managed to force out as she leapt to her feet, chest heaving with the sense of victory. Wearing nothing more than her boxers, Rue made her way to her full-length mirror. She peered in closely at herself, tugging at the skin around her eyes, gnashing her teeth, furrowing her brow, she looked wretched, and smelled like it too. Her eyes wandered down to her breasts. They just screamed at her!
"Look at me everyone! I'm a girl!" Rue glared at them as she poked at them harshly. Large mounds of flesh that refused to be reduced. Leaving the company of her mirror, she headed for the bathroom to get ready. Her pattern was the same: 1. Relieve herself. 2. Shower. 3. Brush her teeth. 4. Style Hair. 5. Bandage down breasts. Every single morning, Rue followed this precise pattern, not that she was OCD or anything, but rather she found it to be useful to have patterns in her morning ritual.

After her cold shower, Rue studied herself in her bathroom mirror. Contemplating on how to style her hair for today. Should she go with a mohawk, fohawk, spikes, flared bangs, or natural? Fohawk it. Grabbing her gel, Rue ran her fingers through her bangs quickly, and feathered them back just a tad until she liked what she saw.

Breakfast was simple, a bowl of cereal that Rue had unfathomly managed to dump the entire contents of her gallon of milk all over the floor. After cleaning up that horrid mess, she went on to get changed for the day ahead. Prior to the evening before hand, Rue had received a phone call from one of the Blue Lantern's, informing her that there was a meeting to be held at the office today and she was to attend. She wondered what it was about, being that it had been some time since she saw any action as a Red Pole.

So how would Ruellen dress herself? Preferably, in her favourite pair of pants, red plaid jeans that were littered with unnecesary grommets and nonfunctioning zippers. She tugged on a simple white, button-up blouse, and slid a black tie about her neck and completed her outfit by sticking a safety pin through her tie. Now, with her fohawk, and strange attire, Rue felt most ready to head out for the meeting. Could she ever go out in public looking normal? No. The word itself repulsed Rue. Normal. Something that conformed within societal rules. Nope, she couldn't do just that. Rue slipped her worn out Chuck Taylor's on and headed outside.

Descending the steps, Rue passed by her store, Electronics+. This time, she didn't bother to enter the store, but rather passed by it. She had to get to the meeting soon, and everyone associated with the Ravenglass Boys knew that Grandpa Wu didn't like people being late. When Rue hit the sidewalk, she sprang into a fast-paced jog, leaping and maneuvering around objects that hindered her. San Francisco...a beautiful city one would say..if one lived in the right area. She soon found herself in front of Wu Exports offices in downtown area. Placing both hands on her knees, Rue panted for breath. How far did she just run? She had know clue except that her lungs burned with an intense fire. Her heart rate slowed considerably, the pulse still throbbing throughout her body. Standing up, Rue rolled her shoulders and crossed the threshold. The entire building front was nothing but windows. She looked past her as soon as she strolled inside, and looked to the outside world, which was now tinted in a faint shade of clear blue. The thought of the meeting with some fellow Ravens made her blood rush away from her outer-body extremities. She prayed that she wouldn't have to speak much in this, her tongue always betrayed her..

[Mercenary Lord]

There was something remarkably soothing about T'ai chi ch'uan. It calmed the soul, while simultaneously making the body more responsive, healthier, and longer-lasting. A sub-discipline of Wushu, Mark's father had drilled into him the tranquil art at a very young age. Now he used it to focus his mind. Alongside several other activities, T'ai chi was the only one to train both his body and his mind. He exhaled, breathing deeply, concentrating on the breath. That was how meditation worked, after all. Focusing on breathing was the easiest way to settle the mind, and open the senses. After an extended workout of the 24-step version of the form, Mark headed inside from the outdoor dojo, ready to take a steaming shower. Exercise in outdoors at five thirty in the morning was frigid work.

He managed to get half-way through his shower before his secretary, a young woman who he had hired off the street, knocked on the door. "Mister Bao, your meeting with Mister Wu is at eight. It's six right now..."

He replied after lowering the flow of water. "I'm aware, Lesley. hanks for the head's up."

"No problem." She left then, leaving Mark to his steam. A few minutes later, he stepped out, toweled off, and moved to the studio. A huge room, it had all manner of arts and device in it, like canvases, instrument racks, and a large section with mats for acrobatics and martial arts. He stepped onto the mat, and settled down in the very center, tucking his legs under him, in the traditional Asian seiza position. He breathed, deeply, entering another trance. He was so immersed in his inner thoughts that he didn't hear the door open, nor Lesley entering the mat. He didn't hear her call, and he barely noticed her slip off her shoes, and tread onto the mat. It was only when she tapped him on the shoulder that he snapped out of his trance. "Yes?"

"It's six-forty, Mister Ba-"

"Mark, please." He cut her off.

"Mark. It's time for you to go. You told me to make sure you were an hour early to all of your affairs." She shook her head.

Mark sighed, and got to his feet. "Very well." He pulled on his coat, which hung by the door of the studio, and nodded to Lesley. "If anyone calls, I'm not available. The library, pool, and studio are open. Your laptop is..." He went silent. "It's in the mid-floor kitchen, if I recall correctly. Try not to burn the house down." He smiled gently at the small joke he shared with any of his employees."

She nodded, and Mark set off, heading for Wu Exports. He had plenty of time, and arrived with sixty-five minutes to spare, thanks to his secretary. He walked up to the doors, slid inside, and looked walked to the receptionist. "I'm here for a meeting of some sort. Can you direct me to Mister Wu, please?"

The Caucasian looked at him for a long moment, and he understood why. He didn't look very impressive, with his unkempt hair and clothes, and feather necklace. He must have looked like a hippie. Not to mention he was drastically early. Finally, she relented, and said, "Top floor. Biggest room."

"Thank you." Mark pushed the button on the elevator nearby, and rode up to the highest floor. Upon entering, nobody else appeared to be around, except for perhaps Grandpa himself. Rather than look around the fairly large room, Mark took a seat at one of the chairs lining the wall with the door he had just entered, and closed his eyes. The others would arrive soon enough. Until then, he would blend into the corner, like a wraith.

[TheStinger]

It was 7:00 AM in the morning as Vincent's alarm clock started ringing like crazy. Vincent pulled off an arm from underneath the sheets and slapped the button, stopping the clock. His head was banging like a drum. He drank alot last night, getting pretty smoked. He was still dressed in the clothes he had last night and he didn't remember much. Vince throws away the sheets and rises up, standing at the edge of the bed with his right hand on his forehead. "Man! This is the last time i'll ever drink that much." He said as he rised up from the bed, went straight to a boombox, placing Metallica's Death Magnetic CD inside and pressing Play. As the music was playing, Vince got in the bathroom, brushed his teeth, started the shower, took off his clothes and got inside as the warm water was pouring down on him.

Ten minutes later Vince got out of the shower, covered himself with a towel and went back in the bedroom as he dried himself up, put some boxers on and headed straight to the kitchen. Breakfast was simple. An omlette, some strips of bacon, an orange and of course a healthy cup of cofee to get things started. The Metallica CD from the boombox was still playing as Vince was drinking his coffee and looking through the window of his apartment. The place was beautiful, spacious and well maintained. Despite beying a man living alone, Vincent was a tidy person and his place never looked like it was a war zone. After finishing his coffee, Vincent went back in the kitchen, washed the empty cup, put it aside to dry up and went back in his bedroom, turning off the music.

Vincent opened his wardrobe and looked around. For a man he had alot of clothes, the only thing missing was a suit. But Vince didn't liked them anyway. He was never caught wearing such a thing the last ten years. He takes a pair of black jeans and puts them on, followed by a pair of black socks, a red Hulkamania t-shirt and a pair of tennis shoes. After dressing himself up he takes the keys to the car, those to the house, his cellphone and gets out of the apartment, locking it up and climbing down the stairs and out of the building. He heads over to his car, parked at the side of the road, a white with blue stripes 2011 Dodge Challenger SRT8 392. With a twist of the ignition key the mean 392 cu.in. Hemi V8 starts roaring to life, filling the street with noise. Vince shifts into 1st gear and starts driving all the way to his car shop. This car was Vincent's daily driver. He didn't bought it for street racing or wheelman jobs or anything like that, just personal enjoyment.

As he was driving down the streets Vincent was thinking about the meeting that was about to take place at Wu Exports between various members of the Ravens. However he had nothing to do with that. Access to such meetings was by invitation only. But Vince beying a caucasian and an associate, not a real member, obviously didn't recieve such a thing. However Vince was more then satisfied with his role. He didn't want more nor will he will ever ask for more. His life was perfectly fine the way it is, or so he was thinking. The only thing missing, so everything can be perfect for him was his beloved Jennifer. This made Vincent think about her again as he grabbed the necklace which had the wedding rings of himself and Jennifer which was permanently around his neck. He started squizzing them hard with his left hand. After kissing the rings, Vince puts the necklace back underneath his t-shirt. Beying part of a criminal organisation wasn't appealing at all for him.

[thorgili]

Patrick gave a loud moan as his alarm clock started ringing causing the severe headaches from a long night of drinking to intensify greatly.Thorwing off the covers and sitting in bed Patrick rubbed hsi eyes trying to recollect what had happened the night before but his attempts were in vain for when ever he thought he got close to the answer hsi head would throbe causing him to groan and forget his thoughts.He sat there like that for several minutes until he convinced himself to get up stretching out his arms to get the blood pumping once again he walked over to a large oak wood Warobe and took out several articles of clothing a green plaid flannel shirt a Tweed Windowpane coat and a brown waist coat along with a set of dark leather blucher shoes and a pair fo green courdoroy pants. Getting on his ensamble He head for the door of his humble apartment stopping only to grab his flat cap and weebly revolver placing one on his head the other into a shoulder holstier (I am guessing who know which one went where).Stepping out side and walkign down a long set of oak wood stairs he came to a heavy metal door wiht several types of locks.Unbolting and unlocking each one he stepped out into a small catwalk surrounding the sides fo the brewery stopping to breath in the fresh smell of hops and frementating oats. He began his short walk to a large office which over saw the whole main floor of the brethery. Taking a seat in his dad's old chair and putting hsi feet up on the large Rosewood desk He gave a sigh as he looked out the set of double wnidows over looking his empire. A empire build on the principles of Hard work capitalism and on the bones of many dead foes who dare oppose the O'Neary crime Family.He gave a little jump as the sound of the office door opened. Quickly spinning his chair around to see a thin redheaded secretary walk to his desk. "Heres those reports you told me to give you Mr. O'Neary" She said putting the reports on the desk "Thank you Sarah, And call me Pat my dad was Mr. O'Neary"Patrick said to the secretary expecting her to quickly exit the room so he could go over his files. But to his surprise instead she leaned and whispered into his ear "I had a great time last night Pat." She then quickly left leaving Patrick alone int he room stratching hsi head as the events of the night prior came back to him.Eventually shaking off the thoughts of last ngiht he opened the Minila folder and flipped through the several case files which he had He stopped when he came to a picture of a old asian man Dress quiet confidently with a nice business suit and fedora hat and below was several pages of information regarding his "Businesses". Reading over the Paper he pressed the red Button on the Intercom he spoke into the machine "Sarah Please send in the Sister Bryne."

[Katelyn]

Trang touched up her lipstick, transforming the soft pink curves into something deeper, darker, more eye-catching before leaving the comfort of her plush corner office in the heart of downtown and driving out to Wu Export offices, the large glass building sitting on the corner of 4th and Main, as intimidating and dominating as Wu himself and yet coated in class and speaking a bit of old worldism. She parked with the valet, who greeted her by name. She was no stranger to this building, to this empire that was built under Wu, to none of the men and women that would be gathered to gleam direction from the old man.

Her navy pencil stripped dress suit fit against her perfectly, stopping just above her knees, allowing a bit of her toned leg to flash onlookers and make them wonder if she were an athlete or sorts or just a woman that took care of herself. Her long midnight locks swirled around her body as she moved toward the rotating glass door, straight and silky with a slight curl just above her waist. She greeted the bellman with a warm smile and a quick nod. People were always more receptive, more willing to help someone they perceived to be kind and a smile was the most efficient way to prove that or lay false pretense, as it were.

The meeting today wasn’t necessarily scheduled and that put her on edge a little. She’d been on a special assignment for Wu and had been out of pocket, so walking into the meeting that morning without a full agenda and talking points should he call on her would be a bit of a challenge, but one she’d be more than happy to oblige. The ride up the elevator was a quick one and one she took solo as she blocked anyone else from entering the confines of the small space. She had no beef with killing someone, as she was a trained assassin, but to be in a small elevator put her at a disadvantage. Speed and agility were her strengths and she worked hard to keep herself able to use both at a moment’s notice.

Wu’s secretary was out, most likely getting her coffee as Trang made her way to the large conference room, the floor to ceiling glass windows showing an impressive view of the city. She was glad to be the first one there as it was only seven twelve in the morning. She sat down in one of the large plush leather chairs, the room handsomely decorated in old traditional style with deep, rich history painted on the walls. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, her body still and mind ready.

Whatever Wu wanted or needed – she’d be there to back him up, to pick him up, to wake him up. She was his right hand and never failed. Ever.

[Deamonbane]

The jungle was dense, rain coming down in that kind of drizzle that never seemed to end, and while giving the impression of not raining too hard, and yet soaking every living thing underneath from the sheer amount of time that it seemed to have lasted. The undergrowth was hard to cut through, as the team, wearing masks and black clothes, slightly waterproof, but nothing compared to rain of this kind, had orders to move slowly, quietly, and not attract any attention. And using machetes to cut through the flora would be rather the opposite. The animals of the forest would make something of a racket as well, which was bad news in general. Medusa was reduced to climbing over the vegetation, much of it rotting on the ground, spewing forth a vast array of insects, reptiles, and other such unlikable creatures. Medusa doesn't care, and they move like wraiths through the night, death on their minds.

Medusa moves as one through the landscape, disappearing into shadows like the ghosts that she was. Unlike the creature of Greek myth, however, it doesn't require one to look into her eyes to cause instant, or perhaps not quite so instant, death. Only that she see you first. Toting hardy sub-machine guns, knives in their belts, garrotes, sidearms, all firearms suppressed, and only to be used in the most dire of situations. Medusa was supposed to go in, unseen, and sometimes even leave without being seen as well. They were the silent killer, the men that, when books were written about the brutality of the Central Intelligence Agency, were the ones that were being portrayed, unbeknownst to the authors. And Medusa did not care. Books came and gone, according to the whims of newspapers such as the New York Times, and She, like the Myth, remained.

Not a sound did they make, and when they reached their destination, their eyes quickly assessing the defenses, not a word needing to be spoken. A phone rang. None but one seemed to notice it. The man scowled through his mask, and patted himself down, looking for the buzzing, irritating object. Medusa looked at him as one, and over to his left where stood a...

Bedside table?

The man's eyes opened, instantly regretting it as the rising sun washed over his weak corneas. He closed his eyes again, wanting to sleep, wanting to be back in that damned jungle again, doing his duty like he had been trained to do. But the shocking pain had woken him up fully,and he growled as he fumbled around, eyes still closed, for where he had left that blasted phone. He reached the bedside table, and pulling the phone, he tossed his legs over the side of the bed, and stood, moving over to close the drapes, allowing his eyes some tranquility. He walked over, eyes still aching,and grabbed his glasses, putting them on. and looking at the phone. A phone call missed, and a text message. He read it, and, groaning as he looked at the time, he began to get dressed. Why did Grandpa insist on having meetings this early?

He put a suit on, no tie, blue shirt, black blazer, slacks matching his shirt, and shoes of polished leather that matched the slacks. He had rubbed the sleep out of his eyes in a shower earlier, so, when he looked at himself in the mirror, glasses slightly tinted, he looked almost perfect. As good as he was going to get this early, anyway. He walked over to the elevator of his building, and was brought down to the garage. He opened a seemingly modest Taurus, one that he had adjusted with the help of Mr. Vincent, he had built the car into a machine of speed, protection, and power. What he liked about it was its anonymity.

He revved the engine, and made his way as quickly as possible to the Wu Exports Building.

[InkedWolf]

"Fuck..."

Suki didn't have much to say about the events of the day. It was tedious, speed limits and stop-lights. She didn't question the orders, the Ravenglass were good to her. However, these were some new blood. They seemed to enjoy treating her like a second class citizen instead of the driver.

At least that part of her life had ended for the day, Suki smirked at the pressed black suit she wore when driving for the family. She quickly shed those clothes, that was not her by any stretch of the imagination.

She grabbed a set of grubby blue jeans and a tank top. She loved the image, a chrome angel flying out of the shirt. Redressing, she felt a little more in her element again.

Now the final piece of the night, she opened her closet and took out her pride and joy. Her red leather supergirl jacket, it was her good luck charm. Picking up her cell phone she dialed into the magic number, it changed weekly, when and where the race was tonight. She looked over her choice of cars for the night. She decided to go with her Challenger, it was her first, and often her favourite in the short haul. Obtaining the address, she opened the door to her garage and flipped the light.

If anyone from the outside would have known better. With her simple home furnishings, the garage seemed like it was out of place. It was a triple car garage, with the tools needed for whatever job that came to her plate. She walked past the first two, before pulling the tarp off her Challenger.

"Hey baby, let's make some money tonight."

The challenger roared to life as Suki pulled off the garage. She hoped the Ravenglass weren't in this race, there have been a few grunts who've shown their face about the races. She had a silent agreement, she raced alone, she didn't care, need or want their influence ensuring she won.

Arriving at the spot for the night, Suki surveyed her opponents for the night. She proceeded to Raine, an old friend who kept her in the loop about the big names for the night. "Suki, Suki, Suki, back for another fix?"

The Chinese woman laughed, "You know I'm here for the rush." She produced a large roll of bills, placed it in Raine's hands. "Who's up for the night?" Raine pointed at the other vehicles on the block.

"Three big namers, Zeke, Allan, and some brother named Rokeby, honestly, ne'er heard of the last one. Keep sharp, you don't wanna burn out ten g's on bein' stupid."

"I just spent twelve hours driving two kids who apparently just got the ok to contact me for a driver. At this point, ten grand to go really really fast, I'm happy."

Raine pointed towards her position on the block, "Allright, well just be careful, last thing I need is that pretty face of yours doing a buck fifty into a wall."

Suki looked towards the others, she had taken money from all of them at one point, except the new guy and he didn't look very slick.

"Hey boys, think you can keep with me this time?" Allen realized who he was racing.

"Ah hell, Suki...can't you just take a night off?" She gave Allen a very wolfish grin as she revved her engine.

"Sure, after I take your lunch money," She grinned as Raine gave the signal to get ready.

Set...

GO!

Suki hit the gas as her Challenger gave a challenging bellow to the competition. "See yaa!" She cooed as the first two cars barely moved as she pressed half a length ahead. This was already in the bag. Ten seconds passed and Suki held the wad of cash as her kill for the night. Peeling a few bills off for Raine, she smiled to her friend as he pocketed his tribute. She heard a voice call out behind her, the new racer, Rokeby was upset at his loss.

"You just a driver for Ravenglass, of course you'll have top of the line!" Suki wrinkled her nose at the accusation. Of course she was part of the Ravenglass, but her car had nothing to do with it. She didn't want the association here either, nobody would race her. She balled her fist as her phone beeped, her other phone. She pulled out the smartphone and was told to be at a meeting at the tower tomorrow. She threw the phone back in her car as she pointed a finger at the man.

"I kicked your ass fair and square, if you can't cope. Get off MY line!" She fired her engine as she sped off.

The next day, Suki in her bright leather jacket stood in the meeting room. She wasn't sure what her reason to be here was, but you get a text, you do not question orders.

[Mercenary Lord]

Mark barely moved as Trang entered the room, missing him completely, and eventually settling in a comfortable leather chair. She still didn't see him, mostly because of the angle of the chair. It was slightly pointed away from him, enough that her eyes did not line up with his current spot. Soon after, Suki the driver entered the room, and rather than sitting as she could have she simply stood there. Odd. The newer members, and for that matter, most of the members, of the Ravenglass Boys, were all so prim and proper about the meetings. Perhaps it was just their nature. After all, he figured, they hadn't grown up in a home where meditation was three times a day, and life was tranquil. They came from all walks of life, mostly the unpleasant ones.

He moved, then, standing calmly and walking over to the large table, where he slid into the chair one to the left of Trang's. As the symbolic left hand, as it were. He was the calming influence on the young hot-heads, the one who sensed the stupid acts of others before they happened. It was his duty, passed down by his father, to protect the innocents, and keep the streets as clean as possible. Oops, he was going off on that 'noble' thought line again.

He shook his head. "Hello, Trang. How are things?" Then he motioned at Suki to take a seat. "Take a seat, my friend. You don't have to stand there for the meeting."

[MacabreFox]

Rue had eyed the receptionist with much suspicion, unsure of how to approach her, however when a rather unkempt asian man approached her and informed her of a meeting with Grandpa Wu, she told him where to go: Top Floor, largest room. Slowly, Rue was working up her nerves to approach the woman and tell her the same. Rue took a couple steps toward the desk and halted when a vixen of a woman, dressed in a sleek navy pencil dressed sauntered past her and headed for the elevator. Rue hadn't been around the Ravenglass Boys for very long, just over two and a half years now, but, Rue was pretty sure that the woman she just saw was Trang Nguyen. She knew of Trang, not personally of course. That would be impossible for her to achieve. Swallowing nervously, Rue worked up her appetite and approached the receptionist.

"H-h-hello. I..uh...I have a m-meeting with Wh-wh-Wu." She managed to stutter out as her eyes went wide with panic. The caucasian receptionist looked at her with the same looked that she addressed the strange hippie-like asian with. Narrowed eyes, and drawn lips.
"Is that so?" The receptionist countered, making Rue feel shameful of the way she approached her with her stuttering and all. The receptionist seemed to be inspecting Rue, scrutinizing her for her unfeminine look, and strange outfit.
"Yes." After a long silence, Rue's mouth seemed to work without a stutter involved.
"Top floor, end of the hall." And with that, the receptionist turned her gaze away from her. Rue let a huge, inaudible, mental sigh of relief go.

With that at an end, Rue took off for the elevator. She pushed the arrow button for UP and counted the seconds as the elevator descended the floors, each floor lighting up. When the elevator reached her, Rue stepped inside and quickly pressed the button to close the door. As it slid shut Rue leaned against the wall and rubbed her hands, the blood was withdrawing out of her hands. They were freezing to touch. She pushed the last number listed on the panel, and watched the elevator ascend from Floor 1 to Floor 20. As she waited, Rue started to do jumping jacks, trying to get her blood to return to her outer-body extremities. The doors slid open, revealing a long hallway with plush carpeting. The hallway itself was devoid of noise. She wasn't sure if there were any of Wu's assistants were around or if it was just silent in general. Rue headed down the hallway where she saw the conference room. Rue stopped before the door, and balled her hands into fists, her anxiety rising, Rue struggled to keep herself calm.

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...
Rue pushed the door open and took a step inside. There was Trang, and the hippie guy. It seemed that Grandpa Wu had called in the bigshots, so...why was Rue here? Her gazed flickered over to a young Chinese woman, with long blondish coloured hair that stood against the wall. She stared at Trang and the hippie before realizing that she kinda looked awkward standing in the doorway. Rue moved quietly across the room and took a seat, one seat down from the unkempt man. Now she waited, her eyes locked onto her hands that were folded in her lap.