Blurry eyes stared upwards at the dome that was the confinement of New Earlton. It was hard to believe that a few hundred years ago there hadn't been a dome, but rather cities were open like the land that surrounded them letting people freely come and go as they needed. Those blurry eyes tilted down to stare at the ones who had beaten him, three tall reptillian shapes holding bats, and one with a small thirty eight special.

"You crossed the line Harland. Fucked everything up. Just had to stick your nose into shit that you were't supposed to. Haven't you learned by now being a cop doesn't mean shit here." The Reptile with the gun walked forward, the blurry eyes of Harland were able to focus, and see that he was in fact a bipedal Komodo dragon. "This is my turf. My people. You don't come here, and start pushing your weight around just because you got a badge Harland. Now you're never gonna get the chance to again." The barrel of the gun raised up and pointed right at the Harland his eyes blinking slowly. "Any last words Cop?"

Harland looked up, inhaling for a moment before spitting a wad of blood on the ground in front of the Komodo Dragon's feet. "Fuck you Vokul... I am trying to make this city a be...-" but Harland didn't get to finish his sentence as suddenly a bullet found his forehead making his head whip back his brains spraying across the garbage behind him. Vokul walked over and pushed Harland's body with his foot, and turns to the two horny toads that were attending him with baseball bats.

"Well.. Let's leave him for the maggots." He chuckles a bit and walks out of the alley, flies already buzzing around the anthropomorphic cop's body. This was New Earlton, the prime example for a city during this time. Corruption, and crime reigned supreme, and everyone else just had to sit back and take it. Gunshots popped off in the distance as if to emphasize this followed by angry yelling, and screaming. Vokul slid into the back seat of black limousine, and whispered something in one of his guard's ears. As the doors closed, and the car drove away several humanoid mice came out of hidden places and started to strip Harland's body of everything it had. New Earlton, city of survivors.



"For fuck sake Sacha, get the television fixed!" An elderly canine barked at the lynx standing behind the bar eerily staring at the dog's unpleasant complexion. "Its been a fuckin' week since that little piece of shit broke!" The commotion drew attention to the quieter patrons in the bar, the lynx continues to collect his composure.

"The television will be fixed, Gaspar. Sit down and have a go at some of those rusty old slot machines. It'll be done." The notice board beside the bar was devoid of any contracts-- a group of scavengers has been dispatched to collect parts for the ol' telly. "The scavs haven't come back yet, and our mechanic is among them-- guiding the others. Give it some time." He hands the old dog some tokens. "Go on, to the slot machines. These are on the house. Just return the amount if you win more."

With a flurry of sheets, Luciel sat up in bed. Ears stood up in attention as he grappled with the fading memory of yet another nightmare. Though it was nothing new, it was still unpleasant how his mind used itself against him when he was most vulnerable. They sighed, flopping back down onto their back and staring at the ceiling for what felt like minutes before turning their head to the unwound alarm clock on their night stand.

"Maybeh you should get up~" Luciel mumbled in a tiny voice with a sassy Boston accent before rolling his eyes and replying to himself, "Iz not terrible ouf an idea..." and then rolling over. "Y'havin those dreams again?" he continued in the voice which he didn't initially reply to, closing his eyes as their ears folded back. "Wanna talk about it..." the voice muttered before Luciel rolled back over and grabbed the clock, ears folding back. "Iz not-!" he began, catching himself before growling and giving the clock a violent shake before setting it back down on the stand. "Iz...not someszink so simple. You vould not understand" Luciel groaned as he got up, looking back at the silent clock. "Yes, eit iz because you are a clock" he chuckled, shaking his head at himself before opening their wardrobe to decide on the day's persona.

The room was decorated with a mishmash of ideas, the carpeted section of his 'room' linked to the tiled floor of the dining room/kitchen. While at the wardrobe, Luciel held up a pleated skirt with one hand before looking over to the other hand, holding up slim black jeans with the knees torn, lifting an eyebrow. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, a table held an aquarium with the setting of a forest floor equipped with a saucer of water in the ground and various small plants. Within the foliage hid a tarantula, gnawing on the carcass of a particularly plump cockroach.
Both kitchen and bedroom were remarkably clean, save for the armamentarium splayed out on the table as well as a mop and bucket tipped into the sink. It was a testament to a previous 'job' he'd recently undertaken, resulting in a late night of patching up an unfortunate victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time...on that note...

Cinching up the ties to the black-red-white plaid skirt after tucking in the white buttoned blouse and slipping into a black and red plaid vest, Luciel quietly eased the door to their bathroom open to check on their patient. Some foxy fox of a woman who'd taken a stray to the side; it was a mess to extract, but she'd thankfully been unconscious at the time and the jack hoped he wouldn't have to waste too much painkillers on her...in spite of the stitching. Still, it looked quite painful, even after the mild sedative. It wasn't like he was a doctor who could simply prescribe oxy. Ya never know when you may need it for your own wound's pains...or for a bump when reality is a bit too much.
She was up, apparently having started to take advantage of the rationed meds he left with a note taped to the bottle: a simple heart and a frowny-face next to it.

The woman jumped, making Luciel jump as well. "P-paerdon~" the jack began, coming off surprised but comforting in their tone which they bent enough to sound like the young woman they had composed themselves to be. The woman set down yesterday's newspaper, one of the reading materials he often left in such cases since the door was locked from the outside...for reasons.
"Where...wh-who are you?" the fox in the tub asked, sitting up with a slight wince, the drugs taking most of the edge off from having a hole punched in your side and thankfully missing organs before getting caught in the ribs.
Luciel smiled, albeit nervously as intended, "Sorry, I am Kaitra. I could not bear to simply leave you zehr..." to which the woman looked down, their hand touching the scar at the top edge of their exposed midriff. "Is...he here? I thought I heard him just a few minutes ago" the woman started, Luciel approaching to offer and arm to help her up. "Nawh, iz off doink...vell...such szinks for ohzer people" he chirped with a wistful sigh before helping her out of the tub and into the kitchen to change her bandages. "And he left you here to do this? He must have a lot of trust in you...what is his name?" she asked, causing Luciel to hesitate for a moment, an ear flicking.

Introspectiveness...despondence...what was the name for a person who rarely was comfortable with a shred of themselves. I was maybe five different people and a sixth being 'me' for whatever it meant, whichever it even was...it's probably four, now that I think of it. Somewhere in there was a real name, but it was funny how two words could put four people in mortal danger. Nawh...its best to forget such people even existed.

"Heh, he trusts all of his friends...zough I suppose I never bothered to ask his name. Everyone just calls him-

"ANGEL! I knew it was you following me!" the figure called from down the empty street. I'd been following Derrick for a while, even during his mess of a date with that disgusting tramp who still had more class than the ape. Standing under a streetlamp, I slid a hand up my denim coat to draw Sandcastle, letting it glint in the light. I wanted this job...Sir Lavandou doesn't have friends; they're just one more thing to vainly hold dear before being taken or turning on you, and it was better that it ended this way. "Zehn you know how zeis ends, Derrick!" I warned, being sporting enough as I noisily cocked the otherwise silenced PDW.
True to his lack of innocence, he didn't beg or ask 'why'. No, he took advantage of being a block away and darted down the alleyway which I followed, darting down the one before in my pursuit. Where I hoped he'd be waiting with his own gun, watching where he came from to see if I was ironically dumb enough to walk into the ambush, he was unfortunately smart enough to run.
Over garbage tipped garbage cans, his fat ass did all it could to escape, and my shell-catch only held one clip at a time. I needed each bullet to count, and twelve was a tall order while trying to aim in the dark on the run, even if the target was as big as the broad side of a barn.
I suppose he wasn't that fat, but call it a hobby to speak ill of the dead. He'd evaded me for long enough, but I knew he or his heart would give up before I did...this was what I lived for. Metaphors aside, tonight, I was the predator.

The idiot eventually dashed across a street, thinking it was too late for traffic to interfere...oh but he couldn't be any more wrong. Some woman, maybe a fox I saw out of the corner of my vision had gotten out of a taxi about half a block down. The taxi had begun to speed off before clipping Derrick.

The world we live in, a taxi driver tears off into the night after leaving a poor girl at the mercy of a person wielding a gun while they're chasing a man they just hit.
The ape choked as I approached, doing the sensible thing as to look both ways as not to end up with crushed ribs and a broken leg. "Iz nohszink personal...and I am sorry" I offer, approaching him with my weapon leveled to his skull before the idiot drew his own pistol. Before he could line me up, I already had a round through that thick skull of his, but not before he could reflexively pull the trigger in his impulsive death throes.

Stupid as always...persistent, but stupid. Who had me come after you? What did you do to deserve this? I frankly don't care. Its unfortunate, but an acquaintance's death had made my pockets heavy for the next month.
Though, it was after I took his wallet that I noticed the result of the errant round. A woman...the woman from the taxi, caught after crossing the street without having ever known either of us or our business, save for the face of a jackalope silhouetted in the streetlamp, apologizing for their mistakes as if it meant a thing...and was nearly as personal as the insane tears he shed.

Betraying friends, saving strangers. It was bedlam in the streets and in my heart as I carved out the proof-

An eye and a few fingers floating in a pickle jar with Derrick's ID card, Luciel thoughtfully stared at while reaching for the milk to brew a batch of cappuccino. "Angel..." the woman giggled before grunting with another wince, (bless her heart) containing her excitement to simply be alive. "...He certainly is" she mused, echoed by 'Kaitra', "He certainly is..." though knowingly and sardonic in nature. He made her a traveling cup of cappuccino, swearing she could keep it as a gift of good will before giving her money for a cab as well as a strong suggestion that she should seek professional medical aid...and forget their face.[/color]

The woman's ride came and went, a hooded rickshaw for price-convenience. 'Kaitra' saw them off with a wave and a grin before hardening back to discontent apathy at the very moment they rounded the corner.

'Did you like her?' the fridge asked in its stupid, bubbly tone, making a funny 'bbllaaahhh' noise as I pulled out the remains of Derrick and slid it into my attaché case and got into my mid-thigh socks to complete the motif as well as the appropriate kevlar vest under my shirt. "I like everyone. Just...iz nice to help. I hope she gets real medical attention" I chuckled, lying to myself as I lacing up my black and white converse before pouring the rest of the coffee-drink for myself in a thermos for the day, also stowed in the case...right next to the .45 .

Topped off with a black and white striped scarf and a half-spritz of a lavander-creme perfume in the mid layer of the fabric wrap, and Luciel was already down the sidewalk. They'd taken the time to fluff up a bit with a shower and blow-dry only to find themselves in the same clothes that may as well still be clean with how briefly they wore them just to get an idea. Long while sleeves pressed with black leather gloves at the end, and you'd think 'she' was important; scarf pulled up around their head at nose-height, one hand in their pocket next to the hanging case while the other edged along, using an umbrella like a cane.

Luciel waited outside after watching Gaspar enter the building, listening to their usual rant before coming in a minute after them.
Their eyes went to the still busted telle and then to Sacha with a cheeky grin, pulling their hand out to gesture to the side in a comically unimpressed manner. "Jeez, Sir. Vehn vill vee get zeht pile ouf junk fixed?" they asked, maintaining the feminine tone and making it clear that they were laying low for the day by their passable appearance as a woman. Though Luciel operated in more accommodating clothes for jobs, showing up to work as his female persona was a big hint that he'd rather not be picked out of a crowd at the moment.

The job had been accepted from the hole and would likely be returned in such a manner, the sign being the waitress with the red anklet. 'Order 'sacked pickles' from them and be sure to leave a 'tip' '.
Luciel was in the process of moving to the back room to get into uniform.

Deeandra~

The chair screeched harshly against the concrete floor, echoing through the empty rooms of the old warehouse. Crates filled with stolen goods appeared completely innocent minus the bold boxed lettering of the name TULIO across the front. An expression somewhere between a scowl and a smirk of satisfaction crossed the snow leopard’s face as she placed the chair backwards in front of her victim. Straddling the seat, she placed both arms on the top of the backrest, placing her own chin on them. Across from her sat a bloodied mole tied to his seat, head looking down between his knees. Signs of his torment apparent by the vibrant drops of red sprinkled along the floor.

Making three consecutive clicking sound with her tongue Deeandra shook her head, “You know Ralphie it’s a shame. When Intel told me I had a leak my family I never would have guessed it was you. The irony won’t be lost on me.” The words apparently struck a small cord as the mole tried a poor attempt at spitting blood her face. Sweeping her head to the right she easily dodged it resuming her normal position as if nothing had happened at all. She was used to the big talk, every now and then action, but the reality is only one person would actually be walking away today. Muttering a sarcastic comment about “family” his voice was muffled by the sounds of struggling bodies. Off to the side two of Dee’s panther henchmen were finishing up on apprehending the warehouse guards. The German Shepherds struggled against the restraints to no avail. Dee still couldn’t believe Tulio managed to infiltrate her mob with chumps like these. Still taking revenge in his own warehouse was too sweet to pass out on.

Bringing her attention back to the figure in front of her she felt nothing but disgust over being betrayed over a second-grade mobster. Obviously she needed to bring fear back to the Hawthorne name so no one is stupid enough to step out of line again. “You know I’m disappointed in you. I would of thought you’d pick a side with, I don’t know,” she freed a hand, waving it in a circular motion through the air, “a little more class.” The mole scoffed in his seat, “From a broad like yourself? I’ve seen hookas with more of that stuff than you. Ya think you’ve got this tow….” A claw swiped swiftly cutting his tongue off while it was still wagging. Screams now replaced the sound of chatter and Deeandra kicked over his chair causing him to fall on his back, the yelling replaced by an Oooof followed by labored breathing.

Standing from her own chair, she pulled her Tiger Eye from her holster pointing it at the mole’s head. “Ralphie, you never did know when to keep your mouth shut,” on that note she pulled the trigger ending her job. Holstering her weapon once more she turned back to her men. “Take care of the guards. Last thing I need is more loose ends. Leave Ralphie here; obviously Tulio needs a reminder of who the Godmother is.”. She received a couple "Yes. Boss"s from her men as she made her way to the door, heels clicking loudly with every step. Once she was outside she headed towards the dark armored vehicle where a door was being held open for her.

Climbing inside she told the driver to head back to the Rock, her headquarters. Leaning back in her seat Dee couldn’t help but get lost in her own thoughts. Who woulda thought Riki would have actually come through this time around? Here I was thinking he was bluffing. @Zen ego Honestly, Deeandra did not like to make dealings with Riki much these days. After obtaining some information about her family he was no longer expendable. The inability to clear up loose ends gnawed at the back of her mind, much like an itch that could never be scratched. Truthfully, she was looking for ways to clear up his leads and then take him out herself. Nevertheless, until she could figure this one out she would be stuck playing her game of cat and mouse, ever watching her prey. What she really needed was a new informationalist, but a reliable one in a place like this was difficult to come by.

Deeandra knew she should go around the Hole to find someone new sooner or later. Her job often kept her too busy and many of her family had their own tasks collecting debts owed, taking care of the business. Aside from this, with the discovery of a spy any new initiate into the mob would not be trusted, leading to internal tension. The last thing she needed was the attempt of a coup under her own roof. Leaning her head against the window she watched as the ‘hell-hole’ of a town passes by. Dilapidating buildings and manipulative people were the norm in the monotony that was her life. One may think living on the edge would be exciting; however, in her case it was just a means to pass time.

It wasn’t much longer before the car was pulling into the drive of her home. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the manual gates were opened by those who were lower in the organization. This was her empire, nearing it alone put her at ease. Within moments Deeandra crossed the threshold of the main hall, welcomed by those who were in between jobs. After trading off her own greetings and giving a couple orders she headed straight to her room where she observed the degree to which her own body was contaminated from the blood of her victim. Observing the reflection staring back at her she found most of the liquid across her face and chess, a terrifying sight to say the least. Most of her annoyance was found in the dried crust on her nails…yes, she would need a long shower at minimum.

Leaving a trail of black clothing, the figure made her way to a hot shower, tail flicking as she went. It wasn’t long before steam and the scent of vanilla poured from the room as all of the days deeds washed merrily down the drain, nothing more than a distant memory….another drop in the bucket that was her life.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"I got it! I got- oh."

Maxxy quickly released her deathgrip on the alarm clock and dropped it onto the floor. She giggled a tad bit, but was certainly saddened at the realization the two wouldn't be rushing for the phone together for quite a while. Probably never again. But whatever, she wasn't the kinda gal to obsess over the past. A loud snore from the other side of the bed roused her from her reminiscing. Sam, obviously. She was disappointed she hadn't woken him up, but you couldn't have everything, could you?

The little lagomorph hopped out of bed with a spring in her step. The ringing of the phone was a sort of pavlovian response for her. She was no morning person, but that phone got her up, got her pumped like Sam's stomach after too many fudgy bars! But this would probably crash unless she put some caffeine in her system, so she got to work on finding wherever the hell she and Sam put the coffee maker. Not on their desk, not under the bed, not behind the TV... Ah, in the sink! She put the thing on and stripped out of her underwear for a quick shower.

A quick rinse off and soaping up with whatever products the hotel had on hand, and she dried herself off. Before replacing her towel with clothes, she walked out of the bathroom and poured herself a cup. It seemed Sam was getting up too, smacking his jaws and yawning. Yeah it usually took him a while to wake up as well. "Coffee's up, Sam." Rang her nasally voice. She took a sip, and her face twisted in some sort pleasure/disgust mix. "Tastes like Playdoh!" Maxxy commented. Sam mumbled something along the lines of 'you crack me up little lady.'

Eventually, Maxxy managed to get some old clothes on and get Sam in the shower. After that, she decided to make her way downstairs and try and find some work while Sam changed his bandages and take some pills. She offered to help him, but he declined. (But you bite a man a few hundred times and, for some reason, he doesn't trust you!) He instead suggested that since they were running out of money she should go ask the boss for work.

As she hopped down the stairs, she heard the familiar voice of the owner and barkeep, a lynx named Sacha, being generous as always. Though she'd never admit it to his face, she was very glad he gave her and Sam solace. She had no idea why he was so nice or how he could afford it honestly. Almost reminded her of the old Chief.

As she made her way to the bar, she heard a woman with a very odd accent. So odd, in fact, Maxxy couldn't help herself but make fun of it. As she crossed paths with the woman making her way to the back room, she called to her, "Nice accent, are you Hanz or Franz?" before hopping up onto a seat at the bar and talking to her new boss. "So, Tall grey and creepy, anything for me to sleuth or kill today?" The private dick asked with glee. It would be nice to finally be put on a case again, after all this time. Maybe she wouldn't have to scavenge coffee grounds up from the previous renters of the room she was staying in then.

"Fuck - off - you - moTHER - FUCKER - URGH - WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?!!" The rat screamed in between shots as he ran with a hobble along the concrete sidewalk, his gun's iron sights trained on the figure behind him. His free hand held his leg, dripping with blood from the hole in it. The figure dipped in and out of alleyways, behind light poles and mostly abandoned cars to avoid being shot. He stalked him from the shadows until he came up to an old bus stop, the light shined down like an old cliché horror movie scene. It was only brief of what the rat saw but he managed to catch sight of who was his previous captor, torturer and soon to be killer and his eyes went wide. The figure wore a black suit. Black dress pants, black shoes, coat, white shirt and black tie and long brimmed fedora. In his claws gripped a rather long 1911 silver with a wooden handle. Its beautiful hardwood finish was given a tribal wolf symbol for embellishment. On its slide, a simple "Woof Woof" was scratched into it with what may have been a knife. His yellow eyes were locked onto the rat from behind black fur and all emotion was cut from his face.

"Oh no..." His voice trembled as he paused for a moment. The rat was Kitzner, The Meth King, a meth chemist and one of the top makers of the substance. He had decided to make a move to another big gang but his former leader, who went by the moniker @Midnight Howl"Godmother" didn't like that one bit. A liaison for her met with John at the Hole and after a rather brief discussion, a deal was made and forgotten.

Now Kitzner was shocked that "Godmother" would even pay for such a task when she was strong and powerful enough to do it herself. That thought was cut short as another hole magically appeared in his shoulder after a muffled pop followed by clanking of a shell. "AGH!" The rat dropped his pistol in retaliation from the bullet hole in his "shooting arm" and just hauled ass as quickly as he could. could see in the distance a large building and knew where and what it was. "The Hole", the hub of neutrality and safety. It was the Eden's Garden of this hellish bio-dome called New Earlton. He gave a hope-filled grin as he tore off for the Hole. John watched as his target made his way to the hole and he simply frowned. 'Can't make shit easy can you?' With a heavy sigh, he moved his gun to his other hand and pulled out a simple flip phone and pressed one. It rung for a moment before someone @VKAllen answered. He walked towards the sanctuary as he talked on the phone, gun in his other hand.

"Hey boss. Look I got a bleeder coming your way. N - No he - yeah he's one of my tar - Yeah I know the rules of the place - Don't worry I won't take him while I'm in there. Oh by the way did you get the TV fi - Hello? - - - Helllooooo? ....Guess not." John closed the phone and placed it back in his pocket and moved his gun back to his dominate had as he made his way to the Hole.

@Kafka Komedy @Hawlin @VKAllen

Kitzner burst through the front door of the Hole into a heap on the floor as he tripped over the bottom part of the doorframe. "S-S-Somebody help me!" The rat caught the attention of most of the patrons gathered as he stumbled to his feet and hobbled over to the bar counter. "So-Some black wolf is fucking trying to kill me! You gotta help me! I'll pay you. double...No no triple what you usually ask for!" He pleaded with those at the bar, unknowing that sympathy would be absent. After about a minute or two of him explaining his situation the front door once again opened. This time a Black wolf in suit stood in the doorway with gun in hand. The commotion about the bleeding rat turned to silence as they saw who entered. "Oh no...T-That's him! THAT"S THE GUY!" He shook a frantic bloody hand at the wolf as John made his way to the bar. "Please no...no nononononono NO" John slowly raised his pistol as the rat started to freak out. It would seem that John was going to fire inside the place but instead it found itself back in its holster as he pulled up a seat next to his target, a smile on his face as he nodded to Kitzner and those at the bar before turning his attention to the one behind the bar with a frown.

@VKAllen "Ya know it's very rude to hang up on someone when they're in the middle of talking. I personally think you get a kick out of irritating me." He chuckled to himself. He ordered his usual, a whiskey with ginger beer and a glass of water. Funny thing was he never drank the whiskey and ginger beer. More or less just let it sit there until he was ready to leave. That might have been the reason why Sacha liked to mess with him.

At this point the rat was just confused and scared. First he was pistol whipped into unconsciousness, then beaten for information and finally almost killed. If it wasn't for this place, he would be dead, sooner.

"That's it?" He looked towards John with bewilderment gaining a sidelong glance from John.

"That's it"

"Really?"

"Yes sir"

"So you're not going to kill me?"

"Didn't say that now."

"What! I thought you said that was it!" He yelled accusingly.

"I did say that was it but only for now. I would say it's nothing personal but that's to cliché." He said, tapping the glass of the whiskey mix.

"So it is personal." John shook his head.

"No. I said I wouldn't say that because its too cliché. It's not personal."

"Well...You can't kill me while I'm in here." A smug grin crossed the rat's face. John just smiled and shrugged before looking back at Sacha.

"Oh Sacha. By the way. The first job is complete and the information is here in this paper. The second one is voided, found out the dumbass opened his mouth at the Ant-Elope. You know that gentleman's club down the street? Yeah. There. But the third one is-"

"Wait I'm your third job?" Kitzner surprisingly was slightly hurt by that in a weird way. John just simply gave him a raised brow before turning back to Sacha.

"His drinks are on me." Now that the rat would shut up, he turned his attention to the other two women at the bar with a sly smile. One that conveyed slight interest but held more of a warm welcome. He tipped his hat to them. @Kafka Komedy@Hawlin

"Hello ladies."

Alice T. sighed to herself as she continued walking across the wasteland that was the outside world. It wasn't barren per say, in fact there were hundreds of monsters ready to rip her skull out. But the only truly intelligent for miles around would be this scav group Alice T. was a part of. She didn't even know who most of these people were honestly. But that probably didn't matter that much. This was a pretty routine run for some television parts.

Being ever the social butterfly, Alice T. pulled out her gun and began looking over it. She ran her hands over the smooth barrel, and grasped the hard grip in her hands. It had been a while since she cleaned the thing but, opening up the cylinder and peering into the barrel from the back didn't show any glaring issues. She'd clean the thing when she got back to the Hole but for now it would be fine. She slid the revolver back into her baggy cargo pants and picked up the pace to catch up to the rest of the group.

Once she got there, it was revealed to her that they had reached the destination. A large electronic super store. One would assume it had been picked clean because of its obvious target, but good scavs knew how to find stuff in places already "picked clean" and this store was certainly a spot for amateurs. Alice T. waited as the rest filed in. She had no idea why more than 2 people were even going on this trip, this was fairly simple stuff. But, as long as she was getting paid for honest work, there really wasn't a whole lot of anything to get worked up about.

@Hawlin The feline fingers making quick work of dirt within the beer glass caught attention of the ever-so feminine Luciel standing behind the bar. The lynx hung the pitch on the ceiling with a malcontent lip as he heard; "Jeez, Sir. Vehn vill vee get zeht pile ouf junk fixed?" Had the stand wasn't affixed to the ground, he would've entered a feline rage and flipped it. However, he was the face of neutrality.

"Working on it, madame. There's patience to be had when you rely on others to do the work." He eyed Luciel-- the feral instinct caught a glass pitch that fell from the ceiling. "Goddamn rusty hooks. 'ere, loosen up a bit-- on the house." He tossed the 'lady' the same pitch now filled with liquor. "Being drunk on the job isn't an offense. At least in my grounds" He reminded him with a rough chuckle.

@FallenTrinity Ring, ring! The sharpened old phone sparked the lynx's interest, moving away from his station towards an empty table shrouded with shadows. "The Hole's marshal speaking." Silence ensued, filled by the murmurs and static from the phone's end. A male voice. "He's your friend?" It was followed by a sharp tone of disagreement. "Then he's... 'the Exhibit'?" This time it was followed by a stuttering agreement. "Alright, but no 'Parade' while he's in my premises, got it?"

"Oh by the way did you get the TV fi--" He slammed the line shut as he returned back to his post back by the bar with an irritated grin-- and greeted by another acquaintance.

@Kafka Komedy "So, Tall grey and creepy, anything for me to sleuth or kill today?" He attempted to disposition his vexed perplexion but perhaps the matter was just too damn problematic for him as a wry smile followed through.

"Just give us a few minutes." And the door bursts with a rat attempting to hold itself together-- his liquids dirtying the dusty floor and fell over by the entrance, kicking up dust.

@FallenTrinity "S-S-Somebody help me!" He cried aloud. Sacha immediately recognised the vermin to be Kitzner. Whom he he piss off now to get hunted down by John? "So-Some black wolf is fucking trying to kill me! You gotta help me! I'll pay you. double... No no triple what you usually ask for!" He crashed and dirtied the bar now, with his blood. With the combined effort of the television and now this guy-- He was not on the good side of anything. He kept his composure, but his sights clearly vicious and bloodthirstily feral he spoke.

"Afraid business is business. Nothing personal." He signaled for the waitresses to begin cleaning the bloody mess whilst the rat continued to speak his mind and situation. The lynx only leered him frustration. "Where the fuck is John?" Sure enough, the devil is summoned. "Oh no...T-That's him! THAT"S THE GUY! Please no...no nononononono NO"" The same stare found its way to John's as his gun was raised... Breaking only after it was holstered in front of him. Silence.

"Ya know it's very rude to hang up on someone when they're in the middle of talking. I personally think you get a kick out of irritating me." The wolf did what some would consider equivalent to a 'chuckle'. He signaled for his usual drink and Sacha turned his back to do so.

"Maybe its something about the television that people keeps beating me about." He said sarcastically, tossing a few lip of bottles into a spirit glass while taking a sip direct from the bottle itself to lighten his own mood. Then a glass of water. "'Ere ya go." He planted the two glasses firmly on the bar. "Don't mind if I do, right?" He lifts the glass of whiskey and ginger beer and stopped as it reached his lips. "I'm joking." He placed the glass down and look at the crowd that was looking directly at them. Sacha waved his hands-- and the crowd returned to their usual business and so did John.

The waitresses now conveniently blocks the view of John beating Kitzner as they cleaned up the blood around the bar and floor. Sacha stood and watched the Rat being questioned like the vermin he was. "Oh Sacha. By the way. The first job is complete and the information is here in this paper. The second one is voided, found out the dumbass opened his mouth at the Ant-Elope. You know that gentleman's club down the street? Yeah. There. But the third one is--"

"Wait I'm your third job?" Sacha was surprised that Kitzner actually cared that he wasn't the first in any list. His dignity to be number one was still intact after all. He took the files and looked at Maxxy who had been there this entire time and opened the file to have a quick read.

@Kafka Komedy "Right..." He handed the files over to Maxxy. "Someone's tryna smuggle something into the dome. Weapons it seems and maybe some supplies. Find more information on what's involved and consider your rent paid for the next 3 months with payment." (You are free to make this event as broad as possible and as you see fit. Recommended to take a few other players with you if applicable). He waited until John was done with the ladies. "Hope the day's been well for you. Don't ask about the telly." He turned around and concocted a knockout brew for Kitzner and handed it over to him. "This'll make you feel better." (@FallenTrinity)

As soon as Kitzner is out cold, Sacha would leave his station to drag the filth outside of the grounds for John to take care of. Rule no. 5, don't dirty the bar. "Oh and, while you're out, deliver these to him for me." He gestured Maxxy to John. It was an envelope with noted crowns inside.

Vexes~

Slipping through a window silently the fox made her way throughout the apartment taking note of every detail, though most of it was a mess. Combat boots lightly kicked empty bottles and wrappers out of the way as roaches scurried to new places to hide, leaving nothing but a disgusted expression on Vexes face. Placing black gloves over her hands, she started shifting through the mass, checking under the couch cushions, looking behind all the appliances. Dust lifted up into the air as the items were disturbed. Stifling a cough, she waved her hand in front of her face. I’m gonna give Barry a piece of my mind when I get back…I swear. Most the time she was careful when doing jobs for detectives; however, this particular case involved a personal friend and finding a murder weapon seemed like an easy enough task.

Deciding the gun was not in the living room, Vexes followed the worn shag carpeting down a tight hall. Light coming from the end of it signified an empty bedroom with clothes scattered about the floor. A flash of red, now more of a brown from aging, caught her eyes. Grabbing the flannel, she pulled a clear plastic bag out of her backpack, slipping the shirt in then putting it away. Any extra evidence meant more cash. Cash could always talk in a place like this.

After another twenty minutes of searching and no luck her window was closing. Slamming the doors in irritation, Vex went to raid the cabinets in the kitchen in an attempt to find a drink, though her client would no doubt chew her out for any alcohol on her breath. After a few short moments she found a bottle of whiskey; grabbing a cup out of the cupboard she went to the freezer to find some ice. As the door open wide a smile crossed her face, her tail flicking in satisfaction. Reaching a hand in, she pulled out the small black gun, a whistle escaping her lips at the same time. “This brings a whole new meaning to the term cold blooded killer.” Checking to make sure the safety was on, Vex treated the gun in much the same way she did the shirt. She began preparing a victory glass when the sound of keys jingling outside the door caused her ears to prick and her heart to stop. “Time to go, time to go!” .

Setting the glass in the sink, she slipped out the window just as the ox came into the room. Catching a glimpse of him, Vex was able to see the moment where his confusion hit realization and fury took over. Before he even had time to react she was gone, sliding down the piping on the side of the complex. The moment her feet touched the ground she took off in a sprint, weaving in and out of the bystanders. Shoving his head outside the window the ox’s voice penetrated her ears, “I’m gonna Kill you, you little Bit..”. The last have was cut off by the usual noise in the streets in addition to the sound of her own breath. Vexes couldn’t help but throw her head back slightly and laugh aloud. You’re going to have to get in line if you want to kill me.

Checking her watch for the time, Vex slipped to the left down a long alley way that separated the old part of the town for the new. Knowing the town like the back of her hand, she slipped in and out between buildings until she found herself out back behind a gun shop. A tall German Shepard leaned against the backdoor, a hat covering most of his face and smoke trailing up from the cigarette in his lip. As she neared a smile crossed his face, showing a flash of white. “You’re late.” Checking her own watch, Vex rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the shoulder. “You had me for a second there. We both know I am never late.” Unlocking her backpack, she grabbed the evidence, slipping it into his hands, where it was replaced with money. “And next time you send me on a job like this, get me someone who has a maid. Ya know how your girl likes her class.” Chuckling, he shook his head and patted her owns. A playful sarcastic tone took over as he added, “So you know what class is Vix? I’m proud of ya." After a couple of seconds he added, "You stay safe out there okay.” Barry was all but a brother to her.

With her job finished, there was only one place calling out to Vex to spend her first lot.
The Hole. After all, she still deserved that drink.

As Vex opened the door she was greeted by a smoky atmosphere and the sounds of drinks clicking against various surfaces. Taking an open seat at the bar next to questionably well-dressed black wolf @FallenTrinity Vex gave a smile to Sacha @VKAllen “One whiskey on the rocks. I’ve got something to celebrate today.” Placing the cash on the bar top she noticed a bleeding figure on the other side of the wolf. Leaning forward to get a better look at the poor soul she couldn’t help muttering, “Although, it looks like I’m not the only one getting a job done today.” Catching the glass as it slid across the bar top she toasted both the wolf @FallenTrinity and the rat. “Good luck to you.” Taking a sip she added slightly under her breath, “One of you is going to need it.” Glancing behind her shoulder she noticed the broken TV. Taking another sip, she decided against saying anything.

Luciel paused as Sacha slid them the glass of scotch. Though the jack wasn't a huge fan of the mind-muddling effects of alcohol, there was something wholesome to the burn. "Ah, merci" they thanked, retrieving their uniform apron from the back room and wrestling it over his antlers on his way back to the counter. 'Hello, my name is Kait' printed on a tag besides the name, hand written in a flowery half-cursive with a nauseatingly cute heart to dot the 'I'. Just as Luciel made to lift the glass, they were jolted by a voice which they had to look around for before the lagomorph hopped up on a stool. 'Did Kait ever meet Maxxy?' @Kafka Komedy they wondered before musing, "honey than vinegar~" in a jokingly reminding tone while fighting the urge to carve the girl's tongue from her skull for poking fun at them.
"Ehn yeh, I vahz goink to ask how-" he began to manage, turning his attention back to Sacha and leaning to rest their arms on the counter before the door flew open. A rat tumbled into the room, making a goddamn mess all over the floor while blubbering like an idiot for help. The notion was comical, as anyone/ones who had a gripe with them enough to shoot them in broad daylight wouldn't be opposed to adding assistance to the body count. The wounds looked fairly superficial, though messy enough to make Luciel annoyed by the endeavor as it was a needless burden on the staff to disinfect the place...
@FallenTrinity
Taralna blessed, of what the filth and whatever the rat dragged with it into our establishment. If it was later, I would have the mind to throw the rat to the wolves...and the humor wasn't lost as in walked the big bad wolf, himself.

Luciel lifted their glass along with their eyebrows as John walked in, heralded by the frantic screams from the rat.

It was fitting, in a strange way. The hazy backdrop of light and a disgusting city that could seem dark on the brightest of days. Smoking gun in hand and fedora leveled to only the glint of eyes hinting there was anything close to a soul beneath it. The victim still dwindling on the precipice of tragedy as their fate left them at the mercy of the shadow...who gave it.

Ugh!...He was too cool for his own good. Sucks about the rat, but that's just how New Earlton worked: you bite or get bit, and that short stack was just a meal to be saved for later, kept in this fridge until ready to be finished off.
As 'squee' as the situation was, I held my resolve...well, until-

John tipped his hat and Luciel lifted his hand from the counter to offer a wiggling of their fingers in a greeting fashion. They smiled, distantly as they chirped, "Heeey Joohn~" in a tone that could put anyone who knew him at odds with the genuine hint to it. Usually aloof, the possibility of showing interest in another person at any level could be considered grounds to be concerned, as the implication usually ended one of two ways with the jack. Though neither were favorable in most instances, there was a third and special exception Luciel made for John...which was arguably even more concerning.
"I see you haf friends?" they asked in regards to Kitzner who seemed content in drinking himself away. Their tone was flat of the usual forced tendencies, keeping the feminine inflection but mostly dropping the ditzy persona of this 'Kait' character for only a moment as they noticed the rat leering at the mention of him.
This was returned with a tilt of the head and a fluttering of an ear, staring through Kitzner for a few seconds with a blankly cold expression before lifting an eyebrow in a 'What? See something you like?' manner. Shaking their head, Luciel took his place behind the counter, carrying their drink with them and setting it under the lip of the bar while quickly taking stock. They helplessly eavesdropped on the topic of a job, keen on offering their assistance when the time was right.
@Midnight Howl
When the fox came in, Luciel thought his heart had stopped before being relieved to know it was someone other than the woman he patched up. He had nothing against the woman, just preferring his businesses didn't overlap, so to speak.
"So anyways, I says to Mabel, I says..." they joke, throwing the drink together and turning their head to make eye contact with the Fox before sliding them their drink.

@Midnight Howl "Ah, the sly fox has returned." Glass and ice at the ready, showered with whiskey on the smooth surface of the bar's table top it slid with Sacha's gentle push. He took the crowns in and stored them in a nearby inlet above a safe. "Smooth journey over your travels then?" He suggested her occupation. "If you're ever interested in the penthouse level, let me know." To those who frequent the Hole, you will know that the penthouse level is the brothel.

As soon as the woman dismissed the insult and Sacha told her to wait a minute or two was about the time a rat busted through the door. Bloodied and beaten. Maxxy didn't bother to stifle her laugh at this joker. She was much more calm than this when she busted in, and Sam's health meant way more to her than her own. This guy was a goddamn pussy!

But she supposed it was better to be a pussy than a dope. In walked another man, silencing the bar, with the exception of Maxxy of course, with his intimidating presence. A wolf, dressed in black. She was wondering why the douche hadn't already shot his prey, but a quick look at Sacha informed her that he was really good at that 'creepy' thing. It would be best for everyone if they all stayed in line for now.

Then the wolf had a seat, ordered a drink, and had a casual conversation with his mark. Maxxy could barely contain herself it this point. Letting your mark get away, talking with them, and even paying for their drinks? The man was a comedian savant. Sacha also seemed to love to take the piss out of him, an added bonus to the already hilarious situation. While the wolf and the rat were speaking, Sacha passed some files from the Wolf to Maxxy. A quick lookover and Sacha's description told her all she needed to know about the situation, someone needed sleuthing done! She gleefully giggled, before mumbling something about murder and turning to meet John's stare. It was almost... flirtatious. Hanz over there responded in the positive, but Maxxy was having none of that.

"Really? Big fan of flat-chested girls? I'm taken. By disgust. And corndogs." She said with a fake grossed out tone. "Anywho, even a pervert like you can be useful sometimes." she vocalized, getting up off of her barstool and walking over to him. "Normally, I work with a partner. You're probably not as good as Sam at connecting dots, making connections, or eating fudgy bars, but this case is pretty straightforward. I'll give ya a 50% cut. Seem fair? Well too bad. You're between jobs anyways." She offered, with an outstretched hand. "Also, do you happen to know where a 2010 Chevrolet Camaro is? Black and white paintjob. I feel like I may have... misplaced it?"

Deeandra~

Just when the hot water brought the leopard to a moment of relaxation someone came into her room calling her name. Turning off the faucet in irritation, she wrapped a towel around her. A pathway of droplets were created as she glided across the floor, making her way to the wardrobe to find something to wear. Proceeding to finger through the hangers she allowed and annoyed Tsk! to cross her lips. "Get on with it then. What is it?" The poor soul blushed looking down, too intimidated to act on his animal instincts. “Uhh…uhh Boss. The shipment will be ready for your pick up within the hour. We have the car ready, as well as the guard.”

Half listening, she grabbed the clothing allowing the towel to drop to the floor. Her eyes cut to the figure across the room daring him to step out of line only to find he was actually smart enough to keep his eyes on the ground. Good boy Sliding the tank over her chest she finished getting dressed. Grabbing her whip and attaching it to her hip she looked quizzically at him, “If that is all you have to say you may leave.”

As the panther scurried away she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Finding a good back bone around here seemed too difficult to hope for. Then again if there was one to find Deeandra would no doubt only challenge it, refusing to back down. Slipping on her boots, she placed her pistol on her hip and her rifle across her back. Common sense alone let her know a large order of weaponry would attract far too much attention; with the mole in her system the word spread far throughout New Earlton. She had to double up on her men just to ensure she would have a chance of the job running smoothly, even to the extent of getting her most skilled driver Marliena. Skilled in long shot, she wouldn’t be immediately involved, more like a watchful eye to make sure everything went smoothly.

Once the preparations were together the car sped off out of the town, smoke billowing behind in a dusty trail. “If they weren’t sure when it was going to hit the fan we are going to be leaving a good signal.” Turning her head to look doubtfully at Marliena, the cougar was swift to reassure her. “Ma’am, this was the quickest way to get to the location. We would not do anything to risk the Hawthorne name. Of that I can quite assure you.” The thick flattery seemed to be enough to suffice the woman for now.

A sigh of relief escaped the lips of the cougar and she brought her attention back to the desert of dirt before them. Marliena pushed her anxiety towards the back of her mind; nevertheless, she would not be able to calm herself or fully ignore it. Her eyes once again observed the Godmother. A failed drop off will only piss her off more….and when that happens Shaking her head she attempted to change her train of thought. The last time Deeandra was in a truly foul mood someone ended up blind in one eye. Mar must do everything in her power to diffuse the bomb before it is even set. “Also, a little bird told me they saw Wolf @FallenTrinity casually following a bloodied Kitzner just outside the Hole.” Yes that will do it. A devilish smile crossed Dee’s face, “Two traitors in one day. Perhaps that odd gypsy was right about my stars or whatever it was she went on about.”

After several minutes alligators came into view, heavy machine guns and ammo in a cross-body format across their chests. Five crates of varying sizes were stacked in a pile next to an outdated army truck. Along the side of the vehicle, the emblem of its origins were covered by a skull and crossbones. Land pirates were far in between these days. Making a deal with them only possible with the right amount of crown. Dee's armored jeep stayed back as the rest moved forward in order to close for the weapons. Pulling her sniper over her shoulder she placed her eye on the scope. "Today is perfect for a little sightseeing."

Earlier
@VKAllen
"Maybe its something about the television that people keeps beating me about." He said sarcastically, tossing a few lip of bottles into a spirit glass while taking a sip direct from the bottle itself to lighten his own mood. Then a glass of water. "'Ere ya go." John nodded in appreciation as he went for the glass only to have Sacha pick it up before him. "Don't mind if I do, right?" He lifts the glass of whiskey and ginger beer and stopped as it reached his lips. "I'm joking."

"Like I said, I think you just like to irritate me." Sacha placed the glass down and look at the crowd that was looking directly at them. Sacha waved his hands-- and the crowd returned to their usual business and so did John. He shook his head as he held the glass his attention turning back to the rat.

now
@Hawlin
The woman in the red and black skirt gave him the dainty wave. "I see you haf friends?". He brought his glance passed the rat to the girl and then the rat. "In a sense, yes. Sadly he has to go soon." The rat took a rather long swig of the concoction at the sound of John's voice and mumbled "Bullsh-it" with slight confidence in his drunken voice. Of course the other one wasn't so pleasant. "Really? Big fan of flat-chested girls? I'm taken. By disgust. And corndogs." John gave her a puzzling look and looked over to Sacha for help only to find he wasn't paying much attention other than to let her know to hand him his second cut of the previous job.

"First off ma'am. I'm not pervert. I see my self as a procurer of beauty. Secondly, I was only being polite. I know it may be rare for you to hear that in this shithole but its still around for some. Finally as for your car..." It wasn't until she brought up the car did he look down and to the side, as if he was remembering something, unknowingly unaware of the @Midnight Howl vixen that now sat next to him. "Car car car ca - ah yeah. I saw it in one of the chop shops up the street. Not much left of the poor thing to. I was more shocked that they pulled out a flamethrower from the trunk. Who is dumb enough to carry around a flamethrower in this day and age? Gas is a luxury now. You cant go - 50% of the cut?" He stopped mid sentence as he heard this. His ear flicked and a mischievous grin crossed his face. "Fine...half now. Half when the job is complete." His face turned more stoic as the business venture was now beginning.

“Good luck to you.”

He turned to the sound of the smooth feminine voice with a quick glance and a nod before turning back to Maxx about the - Hold on. John turned back to get a better look at the person attached to the voice. His hard eyes widened slightly as he took her in. He barely mouthed "What the". She was young, her clothes helped show that as well through her young developed figure and her features and her voice. She turned back to her drink mumbling something which he could hear. With a smirk he tilted his head slightly and glanced at her, now ignoring Maxxy and her whiny, bitchy voice. "Well that depends on who you think really needs it Miss?." The side of his mouth twitched as he left the end of his sentence to be filled in by the young vixen's name until Sacha spoke up.

"If you're ever interested in the penthouse level, let me know." John turned to Sacha with a look that showed a bit of irritation. "Don't mind him. He's just taking his broken TV frustration out on everyone else. Gasper in the back yelled up to Sacha. "YOUR DAMN SLOT MACHINE IS BROKEN NOW!" John turned back to the old man and sighed before bringing his attention back to the young fox with a warm smile. He went to speak until he heard a light crash and broken glass to which he saw the rat now on the floor, presumably passed out on the ground next to the bar. Sacha went to move around the counter until Wolf stopped him. "He's my problem Boss not yours. Just get the door for now." John got up from the stool and bent down and picked up the rat's rather limp body. He bounced him up and down slightly before looking at Sacha with a shrug and shook his head. Apparently, with the two bullet holes in his body, the running and adrenaline pumping and then the liquor, he managed to die from blood loss at the bar counter. He sighed as he brought him around the side of the bar towards the door which Sacha held reluctantly and John stepped out. Once outside he dropped the body over his head unto the ground with a thud. He took a few breaths before he pulled out Cujo and shot the dead body in the head. Best to double tap just in case. As he holstered his pistol he went back inside and sat back down next to the Vixen. "Sorry about that miss. Oh Sacha...Third job is done. Anyway, what's a diamond like you doing in this pile of shit?"

"SACHA! THE SLOT MACHINE!"

Vexes~

Completely mesmerized by the static on the television and the obvious irritation of the customer banging on it, it took a moment for her brain to register that the voice so close to her was actually directed at her. Her thoughts moved from Okay, I don’t think kicking it will magically cause it to work to instinctively finishing the sentence, “Vexes, but you can just call me Vex.” Taking a moment to let that sink it she realized she probably should know who she just gave her name to. It was of no particular importance really; she never was any good with staying out of trouble. First making eye contact with a jackalope @Hawlin the figure looked as though they recognized her.
This only lasted for an instant; the deep voice did not belong to them. Pulling herself back into reality, she turned to discover the owner of the slightly gruff sound was that of the well-dressed wolf with quite the interesting expression @FallenTrinity.

“I think we both know who nee…” Vex’s attempts on answering his original question was cut short by the Sacha’s comment. Unable to prevent the prick of her ears the mention of her working in the penthouse (the sudden movement of them sending her long feather earring into a swing) Vex was nearly unable to stop herself from laughing. Pulling her drink away from her mouth last second she was able to tone it down to a light scoff. Not one to be so easily offended she merely sprinkled a little sarcasm into her mood, “Okay, I know people look down on the information business but what exactly do you figure I do for a living?” @VKAllen

“Don't mind him. He's just taking his broken TV frustration out on everyone else.” Though she never was one to take talk with more than a grain of salt, especially Sacha’s, what the man said at least gave her a little context. This made her glad she didn’t mention it earlier when she’d considered it. “Awe, if that’s all that has you in a tissy I can take care of that. I noticed a TV in an apartment I was at this evening. Let’s just say it is available” . Vexes figured the ox wouldn’t be needing it where he was going. Now the slot machine? There was nothing she could do about that. Finding the man next to her interesting at the least, if not a little charming she was about to ask his name when the rat’s body fell to the floor. Getting a better look at the guy’s face she recognized him as a big meth dealer. He probably just attempted to screw over the wrong person.

Watching as Sacha began to head towards the body, she was intrigued when the wolf took care of the body. With a simple shake of his head, all who were spectating knew the life was out of the corpse. As he headed outside Vex lifted an eyebrow at her feline friend. Just what exactly are you running here? Her line of work matched with her own naturally curiosity boiled inside of her, beginning to brim to the top in the form of a verbal inquisition, when the sound of two gunshots caused her to close her mouth once more. They alone were her answer. “This is a carney…that is what this is.” Swinging her stool around she took another sip of whiskey as she waited for the man to return. Whereas most would have sensed the dangerous undertone to him, Vix was so accustomed to the emotion she was now desensitized to it. There were few things she actually feared, most of which were insignificant in comparison, silly even.

Coming back into the building, he took his seat back next to her going back to the previous conversation as if the last few seconds never happened at all; Vexes could play by these unspoken rules. “Me? I am just attempting to stay out of trouble for three consecutive seconds. By the way Mr…” giving him a moment to fill in his own name she continued, “if you see a large angry ox just give me a little warning so I can get a head start.” Her sentence ended with yelling about the slot machine in the background.

There really was nothing she could do about that.

Observation had always been key to his job. Made sure everyone was in line and no trouble brews up in the bar. While several of his favourite patrons were here, that information John had handed was too damn important to pass as a failure. "YOUR DAMN SLOT MACHINE IS BROKEN NOW!" Yelled that old dog. Great. More problems.

"Seems like you've got a hand for breaking anything you touch Gaspar." The lynx's arms behind his back speaking as calm as an enraged feline could. "I'm afraid I can't do anything for the broken slot machine. I'll have some scavs work on it for parts to improve our little cottage."

@Midnight Howl “Okay, I know people look down on the information business but what exactly do you figure I do for a living?” Sacha's amused grunt echoed as he wore his typical olive trench coat hanging by the coat hanger beside the phone.

"It was a win-win offer if you work upstairs. I get money from people wanting to try themselves on you and you get lots of tips for whatever sick joke they want to try on you." He adjusted the collar of his coat and the tucked scarf along his neck before putting on his gas mask. "Try not to cause too many trouble while I'm out. Someone will be attending to the bar." As some of the bouncers noticed Sacha's prepped up and ready to leave the Hole-- they immediately prepared ammunition and gear for a small expedition themselves. A total of two bengal tiger bouncers.

@Kafka Komedy "Do skoroy vstrechi." He specifically said to Maxxy before disappearing into the midst of New Earlton.
(Translates to "See you soon")

Maxxy was quite amused at the response of Jony (that was his name yeah?). Like most people, her inanity confused and befuddled him, but he looked to the absent Sacha for some form of advice or help. An odd course of action, considering he knew her about as much as Jon here did. Well, except for the whole 'I'm on the run from a gang' thing. Still, he responded, sticking to his guns that she was beautiful (he'd reconsider once their mission was done) and insisted on being a gentleman even in these trying times. What a dork. Almost reminded her of... nah, Sam would never use a word like 'procurer.'

The thing that really caught her attention was that he totally had seen the DeSoto. It was also totally wrecked. And the Rabbit in Heat was totally gone. Damnit! She was super pissed, and Sam was going to be even more pissed! He loved that thing like his girlfriend, or his sister, or some bizarre and horrifying fusion of the two concepts! She should probably stop thinking in exclamation marks!

She was so caught up in this horrifying revelation that she almost missed another, he took half up-front. She didn't bother to check exactly how many crowns she was getting for this, but it was probably more than she had at the moment. Taking out her wallet, she judged how much she had compared to what she was probably getting paid. Her guess was she had about 3/8's of the final product. Well if he was truly a gentleman, then he'd help this poor, down on her luck broad, even if she didn't have enough crowns. She hoped.

Even if he didn't, there was surely some way to cheat here. Sam and Maxxy had done stuff like that plenty of times. But he was mainly the one who did all the heavy mental lifting. Also the physical heavy lifting. Ah well, she was sure she could do this. The old man who broke another thing, she could steal his wallet. He was probably pretty poor though. Then there was the dead guy... The dead guy, yeah! Once Jim had came back into the bar to flirt with some fox that probably didn't actually have any interest in him, she slipped out of the bar herself. Circling around the back, she found the corpse of the rat. Briefly, she wondered who he was, what life he lead. Why life had so cruelly been taken away from him. But then she realized she didn't care, and raided his corpse.

Maxxy burst back into the bar only to almost bump into a masked man. She almost didn't recognize him, but it was definitely Sacha, speaking to her in a foreign voice. She remembered that phrase from somewhere. 'goodbye' or 'seeya' or some such. With that, he walked out of the bar with two men, a replacement bartender coming to take his place. That was certainly odd. Intimidating almost. Huh.

"Man, I think he was flirting with me. Any idea what 'Do Skorory Vee Sketchy' means?" She asked to the three seated at the bar, before turning to Jake. "So, Jane, we leave in..." She flipped through the files nonchalantly, before coming across the date. "Now. Here's 50% of your 50%," She said, placing the money on the bar next to him. "Oh, and if you meant 50% of my pay up front, and 50% of my pay after, then you're getting 50% of your ass kicked!" The woman said with glee. The idea of getting into a fight with the man excited her, but she restrained herself for now. "Anyways, I'm gonna hail us a cab. We've got friends to make!" She exclaimed, before hopping off the bar stool and making her way outside. She should have had enough for cab fare. Probably.

Deeandra~

From the small circle of vision provided by the scope, Dee was able to have a clean view of the drop minus the occasional flurry of dirt tossed up into clouds by the wind. The heat was already sweltering, even though it was far passed noon. Attempting to ignore the droplets forming on her brow, along with the annoyance at the gas mask on her face her abilities of staying focused were certainly challenged. Eyes following her own men, her puma negotiator stepped from the safety behind the guard and walked toward what could only be assumed the captain of the land vessel. Presenting the suitcase at his side, his thumbs moved swiftly, releasing the latches, the flash of light a signal in itself to the amount of crowns inside. Keeping her eyes on the gators a smirk flicked across her face…Soon…but not yet

On the drop Site

Marcus opened the case allow the putrid souls before him to have a peak at her contents. In his eyes the alligators were nothing but pawns in the grand schemes of his mistress, one of the reasons he volunteered himself to be the dealer. There was no need for Dee to need to come into contact with such lowly filth of the earth. In reality, his ideas of Deeandra were skewed into a bias of his affections towards her, along with being raised alongside her most of his life; his mind placed her on a pedestal.

As one of the crew of the pirates attempted to stick his claws into the suitcase, Marcus slammed it shut. “Do I take it we have a deal then boys? If so I suggest you show me we are getting exactly what we asked for. Once they are loaded you will get your payment. The pirates themselves not too keen to disrespect adjusted the guns on their shoulder at an attempt of intimidation. “And what says we just kill yous and ya men and take the plunder for ourselves? Takin’ the merchandise with us?” Walking over to a crate and leaning against it the puma nudged his direction towards Dee’s car in the back. An unspoken understanding came over that the Godmother would rather shoot the tank on the army truck, blowing them all up, than risk such an embarrassment.

The pirate captain stepped in at this point, motioning for the men to open the crates with crowbars, “Aye, we certainly wouldn’t want any of that now would we?” Marcus slid to the side, pleased all was going smoothly. Muscles flexed and within moments the front of the wooden box fell open. The smile on his face widened into that of a Cheshire grin. Definitely satisfactory

Kiss of Death

When the men moved their large machine guns, suggesting a coup Deeandra’s finger instinctively rested itself on the trigger, barrel moving to take aim on the truck itself. Holding her breath to remain steady, she only relaxed when the captain seemed to intervene. Exhaling, she went back to scanning the area as a simple observer, “Marliena, take note that Marcus is getting a raise upon his return. His persuasion skills have pleased me well.” The sound of scribbling on paper was followed by a “Yes ma’am.”

As the crate door fell open Dee all but licked her lips in pleasure. Watching as Marc picked up a rpg, caused all of her hairs to stand up on full alert. Feeling her heartbeat rise, catching in her chest, she only wished the crates were already loaded on the vehicles. That process alone would take another thirty minutes…then the handing over of the crowns…22,000 worth. Putting all of her effort on what was in front of her, she could not risk missing a beat. Not that the money would be an issue. She gave Marcus full reign on killing them once the deal was finished. The last thing Dee needed was anyone else getting their hands on a load like this again.

Mumbling to the distance figures unable to hear her she all but purred, "Nothing personal boys. Just business."

@Kafka Komedy@FallenTrinity@VKAllen

Luciel expertly dodged Vex's eyes in time to come off as merely mistaken, or strange. It was tricky to read people he wasn't looking at, though it didn't entirely matter since he'd been wrong in his assumption. On that note, John wasn't a hard read in their approach on the woman who introduced herself as 'Vexes'. In spite of their opinions regarding this 'pile of shit' that Luciel worked out of, the jackalope kept quiet and tended to their own business. Behind the bar, they set their attaché case down and drew a slim paper bag from the bar's stores before swiftly transitioning the pickle jar. Following the motion, he fastened the red beaded anklet to his right leg, thus completing the setup.
They stood back up after sliding the bag into one of the shelves of the fridge next to the orange juice. Health code be damned, and Luciel thought orange juice was disgusting enough, and the two didn't touch, so no harm no foul.

The others seemed to be on about jobs which I would have been inclined to offer my assistance with, if I hadn't my own arraignments to tend to. It would also be strange to have Kaitra following Maxxy around, which reminded me of another matter I needed to tend to.

"Take care, sir!" Luciel called after Sacha with a wave, followed shortly after by Maxxy. For the moment, this left John and Vex still hanging around the bar. As unfortunate as it was for the jackalope for associates to be in proximity to 'Angel's business, such matters are what concepts like tact and subtlety were made for. Expressionlessly, Luciel drew a red cocktail umbrella from the drawer of drink nick-nacks and stuck it in John's drink. Imagining he wouldn't mind, since he never touched the thing, it served as more of a flag than anything. "Better zehn ice, yeh?" they joked before two choice individuals entered the bar.
Both casually in suits, an old mole in sunglasses carrying a suitcase was followed by a doberman who took off his sunglasses, slowly scanning the bar before pulling out a chair for the mole. Sitting with a groan, they gestured for the hound to come close and whispered to them in a wheezing voice. They nodded and crossed the bar, making their way to the restroom before catching Luciel's eye and looking down to note the anklet before continuing, flicking their ears.
While in the men's room, the mole turned away one of the waitresses who walked up to the bar. "Hey Kait, you have an admirer" they groaned, subtly gesturing to the mole with a tilt of their head. "Thanks..." Luciel said in a cheerfully commiserating tone, though he was glad that the client was a punctual one. After taking one last sip of the offered scotch, chasing it down with a swig of the coffee he'd packed-

The song and dance began, picking up my waitress notepad and a pencil while moving to engage the mole. On the notepad was a tiny scribble, forming the words 'Blind would be convenient, if not stereotypical'. My hand moved to form a dash every other line, forming notes on the client in case it was ever important. It was unfortunate how three pages back had been torn out and burned since 'Derrick' was no longer a paying customer.
"Good...noon sir, vill you be orderink?" I asked, announcing myself at the same time the door to the men's room opened and Spooks McBark returned to the scene, likely having been waiting for me to make a move. The mole smiled, wheezing a small chuckle with, "Ahh, the accent...my sight isn't what it was, but you would be 'Angel'...am I right?" their weak and nearly inaudible voice creaked. The doberman leaned in to whisper something about the anklet as I explained, "Vell, an associate ouf zeirs...now, vee haf a fresh brew of iced tea. Iz usually for mix, but I can make an exception" to which the mole waved a hand in dismissal before continuing, "And which one are you, today?" the mole asked in a faintly curious though optimistically condescending tone. "I was not expecting a woman" he apologized, if you could call his tone that.

Luciel replied in a soft hiss, leaning in to be hard and made apparent, "Zeh von who iz collectink...sir", their pencil hand etching into the notepad as they stood back up. The mole nodded, silence prevailing in the moment before wheezing, "Actually, I would love a glass of such ice tea...a-aaand, if you still have those sacked pickles I hear so much about?" working a genuine smile to Luciel's expression, a rare commodity.
"Yes, right away, sir" they chirped, walking back to the bar and setting down the notepad as they fixed the glass. The notepad's dashes read such things as 'inquisitive' and 'deemed unfit for further business', clapping it shut as they retrieved the paper bag from the fridge and soon returning, placing both items on the table along with a paper-wrapped straw which the doberman opened and inspected before taking a sip of the drink, likely checking for poison and then handing it to the mole who simply said, "Check it."
The bodyguard lifted a brow, looking to the one-way mirror of an expressive smile that took the place of the natural one not even a few minutes before as he opened the bag. Peering inside, he seemed confused before tilting it into the light, cringing and folding the bag shut. "Well?" The mole asked before taking a sip, the doberman leaning in to whisper-

An eye, a thumb, the first knuckle of an index finger and three of a ring finger along with the ID card of the target. My specialty...'Angel's calling card was a dark joke that few would get, even if they knew him, but it was all the proof in the world that whomever it was that the contents of the jar belonged to, they were likely dead or worse. 'Worse' being handed over to those who have personal business with the target. Not so in Derrick's case, though 'two-fer's were far more profitable, and few complained about a slightly damaged subject to question...they had something to fear if they didn't cooperate.

"Ye-yes...pay the lady, if you will?" The mole shakily ordered, the doberman retrieving a letter from their suit and handing it to Luciel who opened and flipped through the contents before tucking it down the front of their shirt into their armor. "And please enjoy your stay" He innocently chirped before returning to their place behind the counter, opening the register and making change for a hundred in the place of the expense for the tea as well as a small bag of coffee from behind the counter.

Closing the register, Luciel watched the two men leave with their bagged jar of Derrick before catching the eye of one of the waitresses and maintaining eye contact while flipping over the 'out for lunch' sign and walking off with the bag of coffee they just paid for. The woman took his place and turned the sign back over as he climbed the stairs into the residential second floor of the building. They undid their apron, tossing it over a shoulder as they made their way to check on Sam seeing as how Maxxy was out for business and likely wouldn't be back for a while.
The approach was something to consider since having keys to resident's rooms was a bit above their pay grade. Picking the lock was trifling, since Luciel only had a single bobby-pin and little experience in the matter. Also, the noise would be enough to rouse suspicion and he could very easily find himself at the end of whatever the two had laying around. As sensible as simply knocking would be, the jackalope didn't feel it was fair to make the guy get up to check the door. Regardless, it was still the most sane thought that had come of the day, and Luciel was keen on maintaining the streak.

A few short knocks on the door followed by a muffled, "Room service" came in the way of a decision. Luciel bit his lip, lifting an eyebrow as they made a very uncolorful call of judgment in regards to Maxxy. Shrugging, they took the knob and tried to turn it, finding that the door had been left unlocked. "Vell, I hope you are decent" they annoyedly mused as they opened the door to find Sam lounging about in their boxers. "P-paerdon, I...was sent by Ansel to check on you" Luciel started, politely looking away while closing the door and holding up the bag of coffee.

The dog seemed embarrassed, making a sort of grunting sound and rushing to grab his button-up and hastily buttoning the button up up. Once he did, he sighed in relief, seemingly uncaring at his lack of pants. "Sorry about that. Sometimes you get caught with your tie off." He quipped, before noticing the bag of coffee grinds in the man's hands. "Ah, coffee that doesn't taste like Grandma Ruth's christmas cake. I'm pretty sure today Maxxy just put dirt in the filter." He chuckled, before hopping up onto his good leg with the aid of a crutch. "So, the barkeep/back-alley bonesetter that fixed me up a few nights ago sent you over?"

The addition of a shirt was better than nothing, though the heart boxers were difficult to simply ignore. It was oddly expressive in a compulsive sort of way, though the idea of anyone who could seriously stand to wear such a garment ground at Luciel's composure. "Y-yeh! To see if zee wound iz healink" they started, taking a few steps into the room and placing the coffee on the table. "Ehn zeht iz...a 'get vell soon' gift? I hear zehy are...ehrm, good?" they rambled, genuinely unsure about the offer since he couldn't remember when he'd last given or received anything without strings attached. The idea about caring a single ounce for the private investigator wasn't his first intention, as the frantic face of Maxxy dragging the bleeding hound in was reason enough to do what he could.
Luciel had a soft spot for the lagomorph...in spite of their abrasive demeanor. However, his life comfortably existed as three different people, and many dangerous people as well as law enforcement would pay to know the names behind 'Angel'. -Not to mention the families seeking closure.

"He vould haf come to deliver it himself. Iz busy, you see" he chuckled with a knowing implication, hinting that this 'Ansel' character likely had more patients, which wasn't entirely false. Luciel would have checked in after his task, the night before, but was compelled to deal with 'overtime'. "Oh good, changing bandages. May I check?" they asked, bringing their attaché case onto the coffee table and drawing a roll of their own bandages.

"Sure." Sam said enthusiastically, moving his shot leg and placing it over the coffee table. "So, you work at the Hole? What do you do?" The dog inquired. It was difficult to decipher if he was probing for questions or generally interested, but his tone was quite convincing towards the latter. He quickly interjected, before the jackalope could speak, "Oh, and thanks for the gift. Not many doctors are handing out lollipops these days."

In the interest of time, though attributed to a glint of apathy, Luciel settled for a pair of thin scissors rather than meticulously unraveling the whole thing as whoever had rebangadged it had used far too much. The wound was still oozing a bit from the stitching but it seemed well enough without any notable infectious flags. "Taskink..." they distantly muttered in a simple manner while putting on a pair of sterile gloves and gently feeling around the room, checking skin pigment through Sam's fur in case of pus buildups. Thankfully, it wasn't a knee wound, so this bit was more of a formality.
Their answer had been intentionally vague as 'tasking' could mean anything from 'holding down a full time job' to 'I kill people, especially those who ask too many questions...not always for pay'. "Ah vell, zee verld could do for less-" they hesitated, an ear flicking as they completely forgot what they were saying. A wash of déjà vu sending a chill up Luciel's spine as if the thought he had impacted him, deep down. Disquieting as it was, he muscled through, thankful he was looking away from how he knelt as their eyebrows furrowed, clinging to himself while taking a deep breath.

It was difficult to focus on procedure and talk while distracted by the wails of agony from the coffee maker in the other room, belching what looked like mud and grit as it choked small 'Kill...me's. I shook my head, noting that the coffee maker was just in need of a new filter and probably a good wipe-down. Regardless, the voice was chilling and disgustingly familiar.

"Y'know...ahh, vaht iz zeh vord?" they mused, letting the breath out as they began rewrapping the area.

Sam hummed to himself for a minute, deep in thought. After a bit, he finally answered. "No idea. Murder?" He asked the nurse, an odd lack of weight to the question. But he disallowed an answer, asking another question. "Did you meet Ansel as a coworker?"

'Murder' wasn't the word, though Luciel gave an affirming "Mhmph" as they took out a marker and a pocket watch, checking the time before putting the time and date on the outside section of the bandaging. A tiny bit of OCD that was more warranted for newer patients rather than someone whose had a few days, but the jack didn't need to explain themselves as they were hit with another question.

A coworker...no, too open-ended. Siblings, maybe?

"Vell, I only figured out vaht he vahz up to when I started, here" they thoughtfully chirped, an ear tilting as they considered what they said before adding, "Hes...like a brother to me, honestly" with a small chuckle, tying the bandaging off with a bow above the time stamp. Though the answer was anything but an answer, the tone was sincere enough that a 'ditz' would consider it one, falling back on playing dumbly sentimental.
"Ehn how did you meet Maxxy?" Luciel asked, cursing himself for having fallen over themselves in the process of trying to turn the question back on Sam.

Would Kait have been told about the rabbit? Yes, of course she would, the anklebiter is a bit of a hazard in that way.

"I saw her on my vay up, she iz...eehh" voicing their discontent in a joking manner while gathering up the supplies in their case which they slung back over their shoulder before standing.

"A handful. Yeah, she get's that a lot. Well, words way worse than that, but you get the gist." He said, before rubbing his leg in a reminiscing fashion. "I guess you and Ansel are kinda similar to me and Maxxy. We were childhood friends. So close, in fact, I moved in with her. I feel like it was only right we get the same job, live in the same apartment, and sleep in the same bed." He paused for a brief moment, melancholy in his eye. "But you probably don't do that kinda stuff. You lost contact with him at some point?"

"In a sense, I suppose you could say" Luciel sighed in response to his question. "I still see him around, zough iz not like how vee used to be. Iz more like business partners" they continued, picking up their apron and wrestling it over their antlers before concluding, "Still, eit must be nice to haf someone so close be zehr for you."
After a palpable moment of silence, Luciel lowered his head in contemplation, though from how he faced away from Sam, the gesture seemed more along the lines of sharing in the melancholy.
"I vill let him know you're alright" they muttered, making to leave.

Sam simply nodded his head, before getting up and going to prepare the coffee. "Thanks for the help Doc. I know Maxxy doesn't like to say it, but we're both real greatful for Ansel's help." He said. The man seemed to have no objection to Luciel leaving. "Tell him I said hi, okay?"

"Vill do. Take care ouf yourself, for now, Sam" Luciel replied, closing the door behind himself and looking both ways down the hall before setting their case down and pressing their hands to their face. A soft squeak of a groan escaped their shaking form as their jaw twitched open, wanting nothing more than to scream before slapping themselves a few times in the face. Luciel shook himself, hopping a few times while balling fists and throwing punches in the air, psyching himself up. This was typically his 'lunch break', since stabbing the hell out of his chair back at the apartment was out of the question.

He eventually settled, taking a few deep breaths and whispering expletives. Lingering longer than he should, Luciel pulled himself back together, taking up the case as he practiced his best thick english accent, preparing for his later shift as Ansel while no one was around to watch.

Every day was a 'long day', living it for multiple people and keeping stories straight shallowed his prospects for actual 'hope' to make anything more of himself than what he was. Where others were crass vagrants waiting for their next job, hating every face he saw was grating and nauseating in the performance. Even in this nearly lawless town of bandits and thugs, the jack hated his place as a finger on a trigger belonging to another person's hand.

If he had the energy for it, he intended on doing something for himself, tonight...

For now, Luciel came back downstairs to resume their place at the bar, offering a small 'thanks' to the waitress who'd tended to a few patrons in his time away.

"Well... From what I got, they took your advice... Even took care of the guy" said a ratfolk scratching at his forearm nervously when he stood in the small cafe Riki frequently enjoyed going to. Needless to say, the rat felt very out of place where he currently was, and whom he was talking to. He had no real affiliation towards Riki, he was just a little hard on cash, a complete commoner as far as things went. He didn't really know how to talk to Riki, what level they were at, or even worse, what Riki could really do. Though he was very certain about one thing, Riki knew absolutely everything he needed to about him.

The rat nervously spoke, "So... umm...." He paused when Riki looked up from the crossword puzzle of the newspaper Riki was working on and halted sipping at his coffee. The rat's mouth closed in the stale intimidation of Riki's presence, but was more worried about what Riki would say or do for interrupting him for what seemed like the sake of interrupting him, "I..i...the... well." He was unsure if he should say it any louder when he just whispered in a loud enough voice that Riki coul dhear him, "The payment..."

The only thing that really floated around Riki were lists of rumors, rumors that he actually put more work into spreading with only a handful being true. It was common enough that Riki was an orphan with origins not even he knew. It was true teasing him with information often ended poorly. It was true he had a history with the Hawthorne @Midnight Howl family. He was always careful to let things about him be a mystery to be discovered without any real backlash. Like the time an ambitious Hawthorne lackey decided there wasn't a need to honor Riki's terms of information for information and ended the evening from a horrendous illness and eventual death.

His plan with the rat was rather simple. He picked a very common person in a tough place in their life. Offered them a job that paid fairly well to do something rather simple... Watch and confirm something happening from a safe location, and simply confirm it was done. In all technicality, Riki knew this stranger could have said they did the job and not do it, but he placed his bets on rumors and reputation to trust the rat wouldn't be that ambitious.

He looked at the rat with a delighted smile and shook his head, talking in a calm and inviting tone, "Please... Calm down. You just caught me at a moment where I coincidentally got stuck." He followed with a chuckle, looked at the crossword for a while longer, and then shook his head setting down the folded newspaper, "Hmm... Defeated again... I can find out everything in the city I want, but a nine letter word that starts with 'h' and means a person who signals the arrival of another... is where I get stuck... You know what... Tom...?"

The rat just mumbled, "...It's Kevin...." that Riki promptly ignored, "You seem like an intelligent fellow, and I realized I'm running much shorter on time. There are appointments and the like I need to tend to. A person like me generally stays busy, right?"

There was a pause with Riki staring at the rat he gave an uncertain nod in agreement from the silence and Riki's piercing golden eyes staring at him. He pushed the paper closer towards the rat and tapped on it firmly with his index finger with a thud, thud, thud while he stood up and was gulping down the rest of his coffee, "Nnnmm... Anyways. A sharp mind will usually keep you ahead, Tom. Here, exercise it a little bit, and don't worry. I'm sure something will pull through in your job search. I looked into it Tom... Trust me, your finances are better than you lead on about." He gave one last, firm tap to the folded newspaper.

Riki seemed in a cheerful exit and was once again out and about on the streets. His eyes would look at the different areas where he would spot some of his more trusted information gatherers patrolling their areas of the city, but he also didn't have too difficult of a time to notice there was a little more competition from a family he wasn't too thrilled about @Midnight Howl.

It was just as he suspected, the family was doing their best efforts to slowly break away. Riki found it amusing, they were trying to be subtle about it, like he wouldn't notice... It was subtlety that helped him put the family in the position they had been in. It was only more obvious to him when the person they wanted to have question didn't involve them calling him in to get the answers they were wanting.

"Oh... That devilish girl," Riki idly commented to himself referring to Dee. He decided his visit should be very formal, it was a guest and a very loyal customer to him after all. He stopped by a bakery along the way to pick up a few different types of cakes, and made his way to visit the residence that started off his entire career.

When Riki had arrived his gesture seemed very warm and appreciative to his host, when he arrived with his wide and impartial grin, holding up the bag of cakes, but the Hawthorne family had long known Riki's fascination love of poisons. The gesture of food or drink, was often the information broker subtle way of calling out foul play to those in the family that truly knew him. A tactic they knew of from Riki's plan that involved him poisoning the head of a rival family, and blackmailing the rest to doing nothing about it. A move made all in the favor of making the Hawthorne's a bit stronger without them being held responsible for it; all for the trade-off of Riki's ensured education.

His introduction struck right to the point, "I heard I was right, and you guys already took care of it, so I came to discuss the next order of business"

@Kafka Komedy

"Why would I take your half? I mean I could but there is no point to plus I did 3 jobs already and they are complete. This is just extra." He gave Maxxy a confused look as he shook his head. She wandered off to get a taxi as John heard Vexen @Midnight Howl speak up. John looked at Vex with a smile and looked down at his glass with a light chuckle.

"Handsome." He quipped with a smirk as he stood up and looked to the bar tender, laying down some money on her side.

"That's for her drink and tip and as for your angry ox problem you'll be fine here. If you need a room to lay low there are a few upstairs for rent even if its for a night but all in all this is neutral territory and there are a few good staff members here that enforce this." He looked back to her as he stood up from the bar and made his way to her other side, his yellow eyes piercing her own.

As I do enjoy your company, sadly I can't stay much longer since I have something to do as you saw. But if you ever need to get in touch with me or just want some company you'll know where to find me.



With a tip of the hat and a smooth smile, he made his way to the staircase nearby and went up. He had a room in The Hole as he held rooms in many places across the city but this one was specific. He made his way to his room which he specifically asked to be on the end and placed a foot below the door knob, a light click was heard. He pulled out a set of keys and placed one in the keyhole, turning it back and forth a few times before pushing it in. The sound of other gears and whatnot were heard before the door unlocked and two other clicks that followed. He opened the door and made his way inside. It was dimly lit in the living area and held a small tv, stereo which would sometimes work, a nice leather couch and a coffee table with a glock 18 placed gently near the edge. His kitchen was nothing special either with a stove/oven, sink, refrigerator, pantry. He moved to his bedroom and opened the door, repeating his intial steps until two clicks were heard. Once inside, he made his way to his bed and knelt down next to it, placing his hands on the frame and pressed down, another click heard as what seemed to be fully enclosed frame popped open revealing a laundry list of weapons on a tray with a handle which he lifted and pushed back revealing another layer. John opened his nightstand and pulled out a black duffle bag and studied the contents in the tray. The freelance wolf grabbed a few items and returned everything to normal before zipping up the back and made his way back downstairs and out the door to meet with Maxxy, who more than likely was trying to haggle a good deal with the driver.

@Kafka KomedyOnce outside, he took off his hat and scratched his head before pulling out his phone and flipping it open and pressed 3. The phone rang for only a second or two.

"What's up"

"Hey I need a moving crew ou- Yeah...Uh huh...No no. Nothing too big. You might need a handtruck and a few dollies but that's really it. Yeah I would bring bugspray. Heheheh it wouldn't be a hive without a queen bee right? Well don't forget gloves. Oh I do have a few friends over. Alright? Ok. Bye." He looked over at Maxxy, who seemed to have managed to get ahold of a taxi. He looked it over. Yellow, checkered pattern on the side and- He frowned and looked at the driver. Without looking away he walked up to the passenger window as the rat turned to face him with a stoic face. "Where to?" He wasn't too sure so, turning his head he asked Maxxy who was more than likely going to bitch him out. Once he got the answer and told the driver the rat told him the amount.

"Tell Rutz I said hey." He said with a smirk as he showed the driver a simple card with a wolf on it. Stoic features turned to mild shock as the rat hit the meter off and looked at the too with a bit of nervousness in his voice. "Hop in."