Through a small cloud of people racing around behind the counter, Luciel resided in the back, hanging up his coat to leave himself in the white undershirt with rolled up sleeves. The hint of a kevlar vest poked out of the black suit vest which his tie tucked into, little else to expect from a manager of The Hole. He looked one way and then the other, registering that he had been left alone with the tapping customer. "Oi...it'll beh?" Luciel asked in Ansel's usual disinterested tone before noticing the flatscreen with only a single raised eyebrow.

My hands were occupied with drying out John's glass that I had finished for him, cleaning it first, of course. The impatience of the...raptor...huh, not many of them to see, recently. Scavenger types; Taralna curse the hole that what junk was pried from, but it wasn't my call. Sacha would want a look at it, and I had no place in taking it off the creature's hands...he'd have to hold onto it and hope he was coherent enough to hold onto it.

"Ah yeh, th'telle. Sacha-" Luciel began with a shrug before setting the glass down, "-would be happeh to know someone brot' 'im anything"
He chuckled before tossing the towel over a railing behind the bar and pushing up their glasses until they glinted in the poor light from above the counter. "Well, 'es not here. Moit hafta wait, but y'not here f'the news~!" the jackalope playfully chirped, having lost sight in favor of the joke he began earlier in the day. "Y'poison, sir?" he chirped, the mild hint of a smile marring what was otherwise a calculating glare from sharp eyes.
His nametag read 'Ansel', pinned to the apron which was imaginably arduous to wrestle over their antlers. The font was in a gothic cursive which made it slightly difficult to read, but none the less.

@Mega Birb

Delvin Crawford

A long moment passed before Delvin's presence was answered, and by a suited jackalope, no less. Today was a day, that was for sure. He knew about another one that worked here, a female of a similar build, but he had never seen the apparent brother. As the mammal spoke up, the avian was quick to reply. "Your boss sent me and a few others out to scrap up a TV. Just leave it behind the bar, he knows who to pay. We've already talked, caught him out on his 'errand,' we'll call it." He pulled over an ash tray and flicked his cigarette, then returned it to the side of his beak while the bartender spoke. His eyes drifted to the nametag pinned to the mammal's chest, taking a moment to pick apart what was probably the most complicated font he'd ever seen. He was snapped out of this trance by Ansel's quip, and fell right into his glare. The raven's amber eyes met the violet ones of the man behind the bar, and he couldn't help but crack a slight grin. He returned the coffin nail to his fingers before he spoke. "Got any Irish Whiskey back there?" He stole a quick glance at the wall behind the counter, looking for his requested drink. He waited a moment for Ansel to set to work, then spoke up once again. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a sister, would ya? Goes by Kait, spittin' image of ya? Is a waitress here?" Delvin then went on to return the cigarette to his beak, his eyes darting around the room, looking for anything suspicious.

@Hawlin

@Mega Birb

"Loikly...maybe..." Luciel vaguely replied to the question of the drink, panning through the bottles both behind and under the counter. The Hole was certainly in possession of a slurry of whisky bottles, though specifically requesting 'irish' was new, since most didn't care as long as it was close enough. With this, the bartender worked with the supposition that such liquor was in stock. The jackalope returned after a moment, holding a bottle to check the label before giving an affirming nod and pouring a glass. The question he was asked was met with a stone-faced disinterest while swiftly fishing through a drawer to unfold and drop a blue umbrella in the 'irish' whisky on the rocks, as per the bottle's title.
'Rocks' being sheared-smooth granite cubes kept in the freezer, used as an alternative to ice which would dilute the drink as well as hold temperature far longer. Whoever this bartender was who shared few meaningful words with the avian, they were quite the conscientious slinger of suds. Another signature of Ansel was his 'bagged lunch' he kept stuffed in the back of the minifridge below the freezer section.

"E're, y'go" Luciel grunted, showing genuin hospitality in how he slid a coaster under the drink. The question made his expression darken, ears flicking as they slightly folded back. "Dohn believe th'tart. Shes not my sister. Th'r waitresses everywhere" the jackalope growled before resuming his stance, standing up straight and mechanically resuming the causal smile now that his business was concluded, reaching to start polishing the next nearly identical glass.

@Kafka Komedy

As they approached the Sacramento drive, he began looking up to the buildings, leaning his head to the side to glance up at them. It wasn't until they hit near Sacramento Drive did he put on his mask and rummaged through his bag for his case. On the side of it was outlined in grey a Wolverine like figure. The case was semi long at around 3 feet. The social wolf's demeanor changed as they approached the change point.

They got out as the three vans rolled up behind the cab. John glanced behind the both of them and gave the first driver a nod. He got out and met with the driver, Cassey. Cassey, who also went by "Rabbit" Dispite being a Malamute/Wolf hybrid, was one of the best getaway drivers in the city and was one of John's trusted friends. Cassey over the years had picked up some of John's rules and as such had became a valuable asset to many clientele. As John approached the van he moved to the driver side and grinned.

"Yooooo buddy what's shakin!" Cassey greeted with a smirk, cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"The usual. Can't really say much has changed since we last talked." Cassey nodded.

"Brought an associate with me. Figured we could use the help." Rabbit looked over at Maxxy who curtsied and before Cassey could greet her Maxxy flipped him the birdie to which he squinted his eyes to.

"Yeah...Well anyway...Could you drop her off a bit further up. I need to stretch my legs a bit. Maxxy tell Sacha I may be running slightly behind. Decided to walk there. Cassey I'll give you a call next time, ok?" Cassey eyed him and then the contents he held in his hand and nodded as he watched Maxxy head to the passenger side of the van. With his duffle bag in one hand and case in the other. He made his way to the middle van and peered his head in and handed the driver the duffle bag.

"I got everything needed for this so I trust that you got this covered?" He asked as he looked in the back to the mounted weapon with a smirk. The driver looked at him and grined. "No problems boss." John nodded and walked away hearing an audible "Thunk" coming from the middle of the van. John looked back to the third van with a final nodded and started walking as the vans began to drive off.

Cassey looked in the rear view mirror as he rested his arm out the signaling to the driver behind to disperse. In a moment, the other two vans drove off in another direction that seemed to be moving away from the approaching meeting spot, disappearing behind buildings. Cassey's van had made it near the meeting spot before Maxxy hopped out and ran over to Sacha which was perfect for him. Once she was out he did a 3 point turn and drove away until he hit the spot where the vans turned and took the other road opposite of them.

---

---

The buildings in the area were fairly high but structuably questionable. The building nearest the meeting place was a good distance from it and had an optimal viewing point. John studied the building. It looked to be an old factory building, or at least part of the destroyed one. He sighed as he licked his lips and made his way to the building. It was definetly old and abandonded, thanks to The Troubles as John liked to call it. The entrance was more of a hole and the place had been completely ransacked for anything of importance and usefulness. John walked through the rubble of the half destroyed building until he came to the staircase that lead to one of the higher points of the place. Risks were never taken without the thought of reward and the same went when it came to jobs as well.

It took a few minutes to climb up to the top of it but once there he surveyed the view and the slightest twitch in the mouth as he placed his case down on the ground and with two clicks, opened up to its contents. Four parts sat gently in a nice felt/foam casings. The receiver/grip/buttstock was lifted out as he took the long rifled barrel and slide it into place, screwing it in. Next came his most expensive piece in the case, a scope that was decked out with multiple settings. It would allow for him to see through the sand thanks to its IR setting and laser and finally, the silencer. Once it was all together, he placed the case in front of him and laid the gun down gently as he moved around the floor, grabbing pieces around the place to put in front of him in a way that it would look genuine cosmetically while still assisting in concealing his location. After he was comfortable with the way his setup was, he laid down on the ground and placed the buttstock against his shoulder and the barrel on the case. His other arm would help prop the gun up, leveling it for stability. His finger made its way to the side of the scope and flipped a switch, the IR sight coming to life with the laser out towards the meeting. The beautiful thing about IR was only the user could see the laser, the target however. John closed his eye and used the other to look through the sight and began to adjust the sight to match the distance. Soon enough he then stilled himself and watched the meeting.

@Kafka Komedy@Midnight Howl@VKAllen

"So there is the Queen Bee herself. An- Goddamit Maxxy... Where's Sacha? Ah. Alright so let's take a look at the weapons themselves." He mumbled to himself as he scanned the area. There was a few crates, maybe 8-10 at the max. Sacha seemed to have his hands on a few while Deeandra seemed to be getting the rest, they were being loaded into a rather large truck, possibly an old military truck. He sighed.

"Good thing I brought the C4 then... Though I think I brought to much." He thought to himself with a light giggle.[/color]

John waited a moment before he pulled out his phone and dialed 4.

"Yo."

"Get ready. Once this thing comes to a close move in."

"Gotcha"

John closed the phone and readjusted himself, scope back up to his eye and his sights scanning the meeting area.

Only Maxxy was in sight. Sacha figured that John would've set himself up in order to get the job done, one way or another. As the lagomorph approached him he nodded his head. "Sacha, you ol' bastard, what are ya doin' here? Haven't seen ya in years old pal!" Coded message, he gets it. "But, seriously, why the hell did you need my help?" The tigers continued their march back to the Hole while Sacha remained behind amidst the storm and Maxxy as he unholstered his new HK45 Pistol.

"See this?" He tossed it over to Maxxy for her to have a look in regards to why. "I picked up new toys from the Godmother. Every good kitty deserves a good toy for good behaviour." He dryly purred underneath the mask. "Top range, military-grade. Curious isn't it? The Spetsnaz would have their fingers over this informant if they still existed." Once Maxxy was ready to return the handgun, he would holster it quickly be his side. "Snooping and getting information is among your best assets. Your contract to retrieve information is still going, but I have some bonuses if you're able to get it done now. It will be more than just your rent I originally planned." He pats on her shoulders.

He looked towards the now far-vehicle he came from into the dust. "The Godmother can be left alone. I'm not sure about the gators. I suggest you keep out of sight if you don't want a hail of bullets." He began to take his leave back away from the street. "Good hunting, Max."

Aeron finished her food without a single complaint and would occasionaly nudge Twombly, just to annoy him. "So, how are we going to sneak by Sebastian so we can go salvaging without him wanting to follow us? Better yet... I don't have a gas mask with me so we may have to stop to grab one." As she finsihed speaking, she polished off the last of her dinner and sat back, relaxing as she scanned the bar, her eyes landing on Ansel. It had been awhile since she had seen the Jackalope, which naturally meant she really wanted to bother him, if only long enough to secure a way out of the bar.

"I'm going to go bother the barkeep for a moment, care to come with me? I may be able to secure us a way out of here.", to which Twombly nodded. With that said, Aeron stood and made her way over to Ansel, a small bounce in her step as it had been some time since she had seen the jackalope. "Hey Ansel, long time no see... think I could bother you for a secure way out of this place?"

Luciel's eye twitched as he fought another sneeze coming on, inhaling but holding it as he could have sworn he met the jackal in the bar. Right in the moment of thinking this, they gestured toward him before getting up from their seat. With a 'hhaah', he let out the breath as she addressed him, apparently needing a way out of the bar. Sniffling, he leaned to a side to look past her and at the front door while thinking.

"Yeh, s'pose I can let ya out th' back" he chirped, gesturing for them to follow as he made his way into the back. The break room was hardly ever used due to Sacha's policies that made hanging around in the bar just as tempting. That in mind, Luciel occasionally laid low in the room after jobs that ran late rather than waste time going home just to come back to work in a few hours.

Unlocking the back door on the other side of the room, he peeked out and looked around before cringing at the pile of trash that a bit of blood leaked from. "Yegh...well, e're ya go. Moind the smell n'watch y'step" he joked, making light of the situation since the two likely had a reason to need such an exit. "N'ave a good evening, ya two" he said, in no position to ask about their business which he honestly didn't know if he cared about.

Looking back and forth at how the two behaved, Twombly raised an eyebrow as the bartender just casually led them past the breakroom, "So, you a friend of her's?" He asked as he passed by the kindly-looking bartender, trying to be friendly despite the niggling suspicion that the bartender was Aeron's old fling... it would explain her acquired tolerance for alcohol. "Oh, by the way, we'll be needing a spare gas mask. I mean, I could try sneaking into Aeron's place, again... but... just wondering if I could ask that as a favor in exchange for a favor:... wait... don't I know you?"

As the maned wolf stopped to question him, Luciel pushed the glasses back up the bridge of his nose and made a mental note to adjust them so they would stay in place. "Ehm, somethin loik that. Shes a bit of an acquaintance, I suppose y' could say" he explained with a shrug, an ear flicking from the discomfort felt by how they were looking at him. The request painted a picture for the jackalope of the two just being horny teens at heart that didn't want daddy knowing the girl was dating a wolf, or something along those lines. He smirked with the thought and considered letting them borrow his before the wolf had to go and think they recognized him, a very unhealthy thing to do.

"Oi'm certain y'don't..." Luciel plainly said with a calculating narrowing of his eyes, hoping the message was clear before continuing, "...Ehn yeh, a moment" closing the door and leaving the room before quickly returning with his attaché case and setting it on the table. He tilted his head, lifting an eyebrow as he looked between the two while digging through the case. "Ah! E're we are" he sighed, pulling out a can and a gas mask filter. Opening the lid to the can he pulled out the thick cloth of a folded up gas mask, holding it for the two to see. It was all pretty straight forward, though its design looked a bit spooky with how a rotten, toothy grin had been painted on the front around the filter adaptor. "Should fit, oi'd think" he affirmed, offering the mask and filter.

"Awesome, thanks Ansel, I appreciate it!" Aeron said as she carefully took the mask from the jackalope and turned it over in her hands, "Is there anything you would like from the wastelands? We are heading out to do some scavanging to see if we can't get him any good supplies for his modification hobby. I wouldn't mind keeping an eye out for something you may be interested in, least I can do to pay you back for allowing us to borrow this."

After a moment, she passed the mask off to Twombly and threw her arms around the slightly taller Ansel, essentially forcing him to bend over, his face now planted firmly within the female's breasts. It hadn't been an intentional thing on her part, but she did have the misfortune of being shorter than almost everyone, and had taken to pulling them down for hugs rather than wrapping her arms around their backs or chests, as she didn't like to feel as short as she really was. "You are a great... acquaintance as you put it, we will have to do business with one another again some time."

A light flutter in his heart matched the jingle of an ear twitch, smiling to himself as Aeron thanked him. "Eehhh, it's not a problem" he chirped with a wave of his hand, though the offer to pick stuff up for him while scavenging caught his attention. Most of what he'd want off the top of his head could be cause for questioning, and in the process of trying to think of less conspicuous things he found the arms wrapped around his shoulders. Wide eyes, he began to voice his objection, "Uhh, I don't-" he managed before having his face mashed into cleavage.

Ears folded back as he froze, hands raised but stunned slightly from the gesture. Luciel had to admit, she did smell nice, but the display was anything but proper when their presumed date was standing right there. Conflicted with his feelings, he tried to pull away with a muffled, "That sounds wonderful"
Aeron released him from the hug and chuckled, "Anything at all from the wastelands, I'll ask no questions. You know half the stuff I probably grab is enought to raise some eyebrows. She had found Ansel's reaction to the hug rather amusing, but she didn't pick on him for it as she could also understand why he would attempt to pull himself from her grasp, "Tommy-boy here won't say a word either, right?" As she asked, she cast violet eyes over to Twombly, her smile still in place.

Twombly nodded "If not for letting us borrow your mask, we'd be scrounging around town looking for one that probably doesn't even work, all while trying not to be seen." He also knew that 'acquaintance' was probably putting how well they knew each other lightly... but the way he acted, he could tell the bartender was more interested in someone else's affection, and not theirs.

"You take good care of yoursef. now." Twombly nodded as he offered his hand to Ansel. "I'll be sure to return your mask, and drop off your share of the loot when we're done."

Luciel backed off from Aeron upon being released, clearing his throat and fighting to maintain a straight face while taking off and cleaning his glasses. "Y-yes, well..." he started, getting his thoughts back together before slipping the spectacles back on, "...If you-no. Hrm..." he began, not entirely concerned with their vow of silence when it came to a shopping list so much as the list, itself. "Maybe, loik...a skull, if y'foind one? N'maybe a fedora?" he slowly asked without much of a clue what he could want, having a thought in his head that had started with just wanting to have a skull and ending with a mental image of a skull with a hat on the end of a broomstick with its jaw flapping around. It was silly and maybe a bit twisted for most people's taste, but the notion was entertaining to Luciel.

"Oh! Loik a-a novelty drive shaft, y'know, an eight-ball or...somethin loik that" he chirped, a bit more excited over useless nick-nacks than a dark joke. "Yeh, thank y'plenty an be careful out there" he replied to Twombly's farewell, opening the door again for them.

"Skull, Fedora and an eightball stick shift, you got it Ansel!" Aeron replied cheerfully before grabbing Twombly's hand and pulling him out of the bar, offering the Jackalope a small wave, "See ya when we return!" Once the back door closed behind them, she looked around, then down at herself, frowning a bit. "Can we stop by your place so I can raid your clothing? This is definitely not safe wear for the wasteland, that and we can grab your mask as well. Sebastian prolly thinks we started a drinking game or some shit."

Twombly nodded calmly, patting his littled sawed-off carbine. "Could probably pack a bit more firepower, too. Shall we take the usual rooftop route?"

"Sounds good, lets head out."

Emily King

Despite how late in the day it was, Emily King yawned as she awoke. She propped herself up on one arm and took vague note of her surroundings, smiling slightly at the familiar sights of her apartment above the Hole. It wasn't exactly a huge living space, but it was a nice place that she kept in livable condition. With a grunt, she sat up completely, yawning again as the blanket covering her fell to expose her chest. Not that she cared, there was no one else in the room, and she usually slept like this. With great effort, she swung her legs out of bed and stood up, freeing her body from the comfortable embrace of her bed. Up for good now, she stretched her back and grabbed a bright blue towel from the floor and tossed it over her shoulder, then made her way out of the bedroom. The shark slowly made her way to the kitchen and set to making a pot of coffee, mostly on autopilot. Truth was, she wasn't really awake until she had taken a shower, and that was the plan now. It was thrown to the wind, however, as someone knocked on the door. "Fucking... Just a minute!" She dropped the towel to the floor and rushed back to the bedroom, returning with a set of undergarments doing their best to cover her modesty. She opened up that door and smirked at the reptile on the outside, enjoying the sight of him squirming in her presence. "Well? I don't have all day, kid."

The lizard, blushing horribly at the unabashed woman in front of him, simply handed over a weighted envelope and left as quick as he came. Emily, ever the sportsman, chuckled slightly. "Woulda offered you a cup of coffee, but alright." Closing and locking the door again, she tossed the envelope on the kitchen counter and picked her towel back up and made her way to the shower, fully intent on waking up properly. She reached into it and started the contraption up, and proceeded to strip out of what clothes she had on. Hey, when one lives alone, they have the ability to dress as they please at home, and Emily was one for moving unhindered when in private. She waited patiently for the water to heat up, then stepped into the shower, life seeming to enter her body as the water hit her skin.

A long shower later, she came out and grabbed the towel that was waiting for her on the washroom's counter. Drying off quickly and combing her long hair out, shooting herself a satisfied grin after looking in the mirror. As it dried on it's own, her hair would revert to it's natural, wild state, and that's the way she liked it. She hung up the towel to dry and made her way back to the bedroom, grabbing a ready cup of coffee as she went. The shark sipped at the drink as she passed into the next room, smiling slightly as the caffeine kickstarted her mind. She set the novelty mug down on a bedside table and opened up a nearby wardrobe, then pulled out her now-signature outfit; a blue tube top that exposed her midriff, a pair of old, blackened jeans, and a midnight blue hoodie. Throwing the outfit on and closing up the closet, she picked the mug back up and downed the entire thing within a couple minutes. When it came to anything but sleeping, Emily was somewhat impatient. She set the cup back down and opened a bedside drawing, proceeding to remove her uzi and pistol from it, followed by a long chain with padlocks clipped to one end. It even had some dried blood on it from a rather violent encounter the previous week. She grabbed a belt and slipped it on, then clipped a holstered pistol onto the left side, stuffed the uzi and a couple spare magazines into her hoodie, and fed the chain through a widened belt loop on her right side a couple times. Last of all, she dropped a worn messenger bag onto her shoulder. Ready for the shortened day, Emily left her apartment and made her way down to the bar.

She set foot into the bar just as her favorite bartender left the scene briefly. She looked around at the few patrons that were drinking their sorrows away already, and laughed to herself as two gave her a horrified stare. One of them, a white wolf, got up and left as soon as he caught sight of her. Emily couldn't help but give him a taunting wave as his tail disappeared through the door. She remembered that job well...

"Please! No! I'll pay you double whatever that bitch is paying you!" The aging wolf begged, tied to a surgeon's table, as the terrifying presence of a hungry shark was over him.

"Oh please, you're a busker that fucked up bad. There's no way in hell you can cover that cost." The mako picked up a comically-sized monkey wrench and brandished it at waist level. "I'd stop talking now, you might bite your tongue off. And that wouldn't be any fun." She set to work.

The girl laughed at that memory, sitting down beside a confident-looking raven as she waited for a certain jackalope to return. As he did, she raised up a finger to get his attention. "Hey, Ansel! Grab me a glass of Cognac, please?" She gave him an innocent look, although the two knew each other for long enough for that face to be something of a joke.

@Hawlin

Luciel sighed, closing the door behind the two before abruptly buckling and belting out a sneeze. "Oh, there you went" he chuckled, dropping the accent with nobody around. He went about throwing together a pot of coffee for the night since you could never tell how late of a night would be or if someone else may need it.

The maker wobbled about, eagerly waiting to be fed and making soft 'meh! m-mehmeh' sounds like the impatient shit it was. It was expressly the reason I threw my maker out the window and got an espresso machine...it at least knew its place, what with the 'example' hung next to it as a constant reminder. Regardless, I fed the beast and set it on low before gathering my things and heading back out into the bar now that business was concluded.

Putting on his best 'thrilled to see you' face, the jackalope lifted a hand in greeting as he noticed Emily noticing him. Lifting an eyebrow, he fixed her drink and handed it over with a small teasing chirp of, "Oh? Pleases n' thank yas, t'day? Whats th' occasion?" chuckling lightly. Though she was slightly bad for business, considering the way the tone of the bar darkened and a few patrons even leaving, Luciel knew better than to bring this to attention with people like Emily. For all the jack really cared, he didn't so long as tabs were paid. "Everyone all off with th'business n' such, loikly t'av the money tah tip~" he joked, clinking his pen on the tip jar which his hundred-crown note still lingered in. Playing the part perfectly, Luciel's expression faded from joking to what could be mistaken as genuine surprise before shrugging in an admittance of being wrong.

@Mega Birb

Is it weird that I've gotten used to this? Warren wondered to himself. I know this is New Earlton and all, but damn if it doesn't get old fast.

Officer Warren Scott was standing at the door of yet another suspected murderer. It was was a part of his job to bring these sort of people in for questioning. That wasn't always easy in NE, though. Most of the people they caught always some sort of magical alibi that put them miles away from the murder. A damning piece of evidence would go missing, or a new one would appear to clear the suspect of all charges. It was obvious to everyone that they were being played for saps, but there was never enough evidence to prove it. It was enough to make Warren hope that this asshole Ox would try and resist arrest. Another officer even said that he had evidence on this one. If it didn't disappear this time, Warren was going to enjoy himself for once. He really needed to punch someone.

He rapped his knuckles against the back of the door. "Open up," he called out, "This is the NEPD." A few seconds passed, but nobody came to the door. Warren knocked on the door again, just a little louder. He shouted "This is the police. Get your ass down here so we can talk." There still wasn't any sort of response, but Warren wasn't taking any chances. He pressed his ear to the door, and that's when he finally got a hint at what was going on behind the door. He could hear a faint rustling from the other side. If he had to guess, Warren would say that someone was trying to quietly pack his things and get the hell out of dodge. He couldn't figure out where they thought they were going, though, since this an apartment on one of the higher floors. There was only one way for the Ox to go.

Suddenly, a gun shot rang out from inside. The bullet grazed the wolverine's arm, and Warren just barely managed to dive to the side before three more shots burst through the door. "Shit" Warren muttered to himself. He had just picked himself off of the ground when the door was thrown open and the Ox in question barreled through the doorway. For a moment, the two of them froze in place as they noticed the other standing there. A split-second later, the ox went for his gun. Warren was faster. Before the Ox could react, Warren's fist barreled in to his face, and the Ox found himself crashing on to the floor. He tried to go for his gun again, but found his hand crushed by a huge black boot.

While the ox was writhing in pain, Warren stood over him with a huge grin on his face. "Ya know, I've been aching to punch someone in the face all day," he said, "It's a good thing I ran in to you, isn't it?" A pair of handcuffs appeared in his hand from his belt. "Oh, and you're under arrest."

@Midnight Howl@VKAllen@Kafka Komedy

John followed the leopard back to her car as she turned it on and drove off, seemingly to leave the military truck to the fate of the wasteland. It was funny to watch Sacha and Dee interact. She really did have a nice ass. John grinned at this as he heard the Godmother's truck drive past his location. Under steel and aluminum metal sheets he pulled out his phone and pressed four.

"Yo"

"Get ready..."

"Yup" The driver put down the phone and looked behind him with a nod a low ca-chunk echoed through the van.

The Military truck finished with its last crate. John adjusted the rifle, its crosshairs now fixed on the driver who moved into the cab and turned it on. It took a minute or two before it lurched forward and made it's way onto the road and followed behind Dee by a street or two but that was more than enough. As the truck entered into Wolf's zone, he rested his finger on the trigger and gently squeezed and before the driver knew what happened, a bullet from the second largest caliber round caved in his face before its former driver sent the car into the side of the building just before John's.

Three vans came from out of the wood work. The larger of the two screeched to a stop and slide open its doors, revealing a 50cal machine gun, its rifled barrel down range of the Godmother's vehicle. The second stopped 20 feet behind the military truck, opening its doors to greet those who wanted to test them with a Browning .30cal and finally a third van which moved in between the van and the back of the truck, three wolves hoped out, two with crowbars and the other with a fully loaded M16. The two with the crowbars hopped into the back of the gun truck and started opening the crates, taking everything they could from it. Cassey had gotten out as well and brought the duffle bag that John had given him over to the truck and crawled underneath. He wasn't a fan of hoping out into possible gunfire but if it was for Wolf so be it. Those two were like brothers. Zipping open the bag he withdrew the large chunk of prewired C4 and placed it in between the axle and the bottom of the truck and flipped a switch, green light letting him know it was armed.

It didn't take long for Cassey to scurry from out from underneath the truck and make his way back to the van and hopped back in.

"Come on come on? Hurry up! - - - Hello?" Cassey's phone rang and immediately picked it up.

"What do you have?"

"About...I don't know...2...maybe 3 and a half crates worth?"

"Leave the rest...I'll take care of it. Go and take the long route back in. Lemme know when you get rid of the merchandise and send the money to the Hole."

"Lemme guess. Make it out with a letter saying "Here ya go Sacha, John." Wolf chuckled.

"Heheh. Nah. Just tell him its from a friend who enjoys the business there." With a simple "hm" in response he hung up and waited until they were far enough away from the truck before he sighed and covered his one ear as he punched in 13159#.

'This is gonna suck' And with that thought he pressed send and not more than a second later, 3.2lbs of C4 detonated, obliterating anything left of the truck with a very audible "baroooooooom".

There was a problem with the situation as a whole. First off the location of the truck. It was extremely close to John's location which put him in the blast zone. The only thing that saved him was concrete floor and steel frame of the building. However, that couldn't save him from the sound. Its sound wave traveled with great force across the area and impacted John's ears badly, despite them being covered with his fingers. He wouldn't know now if there would be permeant damage but in due time he would find out. Currently though, he could deal with the ringing. He wasn't in a spot to move from his position for a few reasons but mostly it was his equilibrium would have been thrown off thanks to the concussive blast and that would be a problem trying to maneuver his way out of the 3 story building. Instead he would wait there until the heat died down before joining Sacha and Maxxy.

"

Emily took her drink with a slight chuckle, stealing a quick sip from the brandy before nodding her head in approval. She didn't know how, but Ansel always got whatever she ordered just right, and that's mostly why she liked him. That, and the fact that he could hold a conversation well. "Don't get ahead of yourself, fuzzball, just in a good mood for the moment." The shark sat back for a moment and nursed her drink, enjoying the somber mood of the room. She almost started up a conversation with the scrapper beside her, but stopped herself as the bartender's thick accent cut into her thoughts. She rolled her eyes in response and dug her wallet out of her jeans, then tossed the equivalent of a few hundred crowns of the counter, covering her drink and a healthy tip. "Oh please, I'm not that bad for business. Anyone I've dealt with comes back the moment I'm out of sight." She kept at her drink for a little while, examining the room and it's thick silence, and soon enough the same wolf that left quickly came back in. The mako shot him a threatening smile, showing off her razor-sharp teeth in the process, and he fled once again. She turned back around to the bar and laughed to herself. "I swear, dumbass thinks I'll hurt him in here... Lost in the joys of torment, she turned a blind eye to the world for a little while.

That white wolf, twice scared off, stalked out to the street. That bitch had ruined his life, deformed him under what fur he had left, and even used his family as leverage to get what she wanted... it was time for a little payback. And as convenience had it, one of the few police cruisers left in good condition passed by. He lifted up a previously unmentioned eyepatch, and attempted to flag the vehicle down.

Warren was on his way to lock up the Ox for "questioning" when he noticed the wolf on the side of the road. He considered driving right on by, seeing as he already had a murderer in the back seat. Then again, in this sort of town, it seemed as if everything could turn in to a murder. Begrudgingly, he pulled over on the side of the road next to the wolf. "What's the problem?" He asked in a voice that made it clear that he wasn't in the mood to hear anyone's problems.

The canine rejoiced internally. Something was actually gonna go his way for the first time in months! Managing to calm his nerves, he approached the car and pointed to the glass eye that was beneath the patch. Around the area was matted fur, still red from dried blood and raw skin. "There's a shark in there, and she's on your wanted list five times over! She did this to me months ago," He made it clear that his eye was the subject of the matter. "And kidnapped my fami-" He stopped abruptly, cut off by the officer.

"Whoah, hold on a sec, pal. You're saying that this shark person cut your eye out and you're only now calling a cop to look in to it?"

"Well, yeah! You know how many cops in this city don't give a flying fuck about anyone!? The fact that you pulled over to hear me out is enough to prove you aren't one of them!"

Warren sighed. The man had a point. "Fine, alright already, I'll go talk her." He got out from the cruiser and stepped past the one eyed wolf to go meet his little bully.

Shocked that an officer was actually going to do something to help for once, the dog followed close behind the wolverine.

Emily had just finished her "morning" drink and bid farewell to Ansel, securing the belongings she had on her and getting up to leave. She had a victim to extract some information out of late in the night, and she wasn't about to be late for that party. On her way out, she made eye-contact with a uniformed wolverine, and scowled slightly as she caught sight of the wolf behind him. "Of course, it's the cops here to arrest me on this numbskull's stories. Oh take the misbehaving shark away and lock her up forever, good sir!" She turned her snout up and stuck her arms out with dramatic flair, intending to make a scene out of it.

Warren ignored the dramatic gesture for now. "This guy says that you cut out his eye and... uh... what was the other thing?" He turned to the wolf for an answer.

The canine was all too eager to assist now, waiting for the moment a pair of cuffs would be slapped on his tormentor's wrists. "Kidnapped my family and smoked out my apartment." The shark was quick to disagree.

"If memory serves, your ass was drunk on the side of the road when I picked you up for our meeting. And, believe it or not, I never touched your nonexistant wife and kids. Now, if we're done here, I have business to attend to." She tried to push past the pair, but was quickly body blocked by the larger mammal.

Warren looked down at the shark in front of him. "Lady, listen" he said "He could be lying about the family thing, and maybe he was drunk when you ran in to him. The problem here is that none of that shit explains the eye."

The girl crossed her arms over her chest. "Idiot tripped and stumbled into the window of the car I was picking him up in, broke it with his snout, and had a shard of glass in his eye for the next few hours. I don't remember exactly how long, but it probably got infected. Isn't that right, Reager?" She shot an inimidating glare at the wolf, who hastily nodded to agree.

Warren turned back towards the wolf. He was losing his patience, and the snarl on his face showed it. "If you're just here to fuck around and waste my time..."

Emily, at the end of the argument, sealed the wolf's fate with a smirk. "If it's worth anything, this guy sold his daughter as a sex slave a few years back. She was thirteen, and no one's heard from her since. If you want the details, you'll follow me." She slipped past Warren with a flick of her tail, and started to walk down the street.

The wolverine was already pissed off enough. At the very least, he wouldn't be wasting his time. For safe keeping, he decided to slap a pair of cuffs on to the wolf. Throwing him in to the back of the cruiser would be easier than dragging him to wherever the shark was going.

She was headed for the old industrial district of the city. Formerly, it made New Earlton a powerhouse... and then the goddamn sky fell and society collapsed. It was a long walk from the hole, and would take awhile to get to their destination, but that's where the fun began. At least for one of the two, that was.

@Hawlin

Deeandra~

Many times have people taken back their word, as the town itself was full of liars and thieves. In a business such as hers, many of these actions were not surprising, and could be expected. However, at the sound of explosives detonating, and a large vehicle’s gas tank shooting fire into the sky surprised could only come as an understatement. Slamming on the breaks, her jeep screeched to a stop as she eyed the distance behind her watching as itstarted into a gun fight. Biting her tongue, her senses overflowed with the taste of iron in her mouth and the venom in her soul, all of which came down to one thought…Tommy

Tommy was a skittish boy, just out of his teens. He was more like the puppy of the family then a kit, always thought of as the little sibling to all in the mob. So desperate to prove himself, he came to the Godmother on his knees begging for a chance to do so. She permitted it, and now he was gone. Growling she couldn’t help but to shout “Bastards!” into the rearview. Eyes checking her mirrors she could still see Marcus attempting to hold his own. Looking once more to the destruction without knowing its master @FallenTrinity she knew to save her hatred for another time. For now she could only salvage her negotiator and the last box he was hiding behind.

Ducking down in her seat, she threw the jeep into reverse, watching the side mirrors in order to navigate. The sounds of bullets rained on the doors and windows, threatening to cause a breach within the on slot. Throwing on the e-break, she whipped the vehicle around to the frontward position, throwing her foot on the gas she disappeared in a cloud of dusk, headed straight for the center of it all. Grabbing her talkie, Dee shouted into the bottom causing blood in her mouth to find its way to the steering wheel. “MARCUS! By the nines, if you die I will bring you back and kill you myself! “ After seconds, which seemed like minutes a broken voice retaliated in between coughs “Now ..is not the time..for your humor…if you don’t mind me saying so. Deeandra could tell he’d been hit though the extent of his wounds were unknown.

As minutes burned away, the defenses of fortress were worn down exponentially. The back glass now allowed several bullets through, one of which clipped her shoulder. Muscle screaming in pain, it was the anger alone which allowed her to ignore it. Eyes scanning through the fog, or rather dust storm, in moments she had her target. Once again slamming to a stop, she came within feet of hitting Marcus. Popping the trunk, she slipped as the noise of the wind filled her ears. Pushing her way through, she finally came made it to him. Attempting to assess the damage and inquire, her voice became lost in the roar of it all. Blood seemed to be coming from his side, and his ear was clipped as well.

It took time, but the pair was able to get the one crate into the vehicle. Slamming the trunk shut, Dee watched as the cougar was barely able to open the door, all but collapsing in the floor board. We need to go go GO! Shutting the back passenger door she climbed back in her seat and pointed herself west away from the fire. Circling around would be the longer way; nevertheless, with the condition of the jeep attempting a straight path would only be a death sentence. Beating her hands against the wheel over and over she glanced at Marcus. “You are not allowed to die. That is an order!” The only response she received was an attempted scoff lost in choking.

Maxxy grinned as the boss threw her a pistol he had managed to pick up, and mentioned 'toys'. "Are we talkin' leather belt or battery cables? Or just battery in general?" She joked as she looked over the gun. Examining it, it had no wood cut parts, and there didn't seem to be a serial number either. So, the sand pirates did have a gunsmith, but the lack of trees and stuff out here was still an issue. Judging by the crates full of them, these were produced in some form of factory, though to tell how ramshackle it was, she'd need to test a few guns. Sacha seemed to have taken a few, so that wasn't entirely out of the question.

As Maxxy handed Sacha back the pistol, he patted her on the shoulder and told her she'd be getting a raise. At that moment she was the most happy she had been in a while. Followed by the most pissed she had been in a while. Looking over to the car Sacha had driven in on, it looked and sounded so familiar. It was Sam's- no, her car! Not entirely, just the paint job and the exhaust, and it sounded a little more powerful too, but that had definitely been repaired from her cannibalized parts. She made an attempt to shout at Sacha, but she knew that it was gonna happen soon and if he didn't want to be a succulent Sacha steak, he'd make a break for it. For now, Maxxy was going to try and gather some more clues before catching up to him. It wouldn't take but a second.

As the sand pirates packed up and left, Maxxy took out her notepad and began sketching one of them. His outfit, more specifically. If anything could lead one to a sand pirates' hideout, it'd be one of the sand pirates themselves. She also took note of the direction they took off in, and they vehicle they used. Though this was far from concrete evidence, this would be enough to get some form of idea of where the manufactory was. As she finished taking down the last of the info, she heard sweet, sweet music.

A loud explosion rang out, obviously triggered by her friend. She told Sacha about it earlier with her joke, though she wasn't aware it was going to be this soon. Still, explosions were always nice, especially if they help you get things that cause more explosions. She quickly made her way to the car of Sacha, gun out just in case. As soon as she got near, she mimicked the 'roll down' motion, signalling to whoever was driving to roll down the back seat window. As they did so, Maxxy hopped into the car with a surprising deftness, before pulling herself back out the window, sitting on it and aiming the Big Kill out towards the danger. "Looks like that John boy is at it again!" She shouted in a southern accent. It was time to kick some ass!

The Bengal Tigers were nowhere to be seen, Sacha had presumed that they arrived safely back by the Hole through a different entrance than the bar. The underground hatch specifically. He stayed within the vehicle long enough to observe several vans, some armed with machine guns and feel the rumbling earthquake beneath as a loud explosion ensued and he observed the building close-by shook with dust and rocks. "What the hell is going on here?" His breath escaped.

I was followed by a figure running in the distance. As he squinted his eyes beyond the dust-covered storm he sees Maxxy signalling to roll the backseat window down. With a push of a button, Sacha complied. Powered windows for the win! She deftly passed through the window and quickly armed herself with her own weapon awaiting thugs to come out and to start shooting at them-- but it was empty. "Move back a bit Max. Dust will dirty the seat." He said as he rolled up the window. "What just happened? I saw vans with machine guns, then explosion."

While he wasn't displeased, it was more... Issues that Dee could pin on him. "And Johnny Boy coming?" Another figure emerged by the dust-storm from the buildings. Judging from the way it came, he was injured. He wonders what nonchalantly and ignored the previous explosion that may have explained things.

@Kafka Komedy @FallenTrinity

Taking the fire escape up to the roof of the bar was straightforward, as the route appeared to be used quite frequently by anyone who didn't want too much trouble. Naturally, he went first largely because of Aeron's state of monility-focused attire. He'd heard of a major weapons-shipment, and figured security would be super-tight as every dog and their mother would be wanting a piece of that action.

Instead, he would pick through the remains like carrion, only needing to worry about the other scavengers. Thankfully, many of them had established a gentleman's agreement to only take what they can fix, or barter it for easier to fix equipment. As hiesting 'hot' merchandise that did not work, and thus could not be sold, was wasted effort that painted a very large bullseye upon your back.

Still, there were the desprate and the stupid, or the stragglers coming to re-secure their shipment, and it paid to come armed well enough to enforce a civil interaction, as well as dressing appropriately for the occassion. Although the Sacremento Drive Exit laid directly ahead, Twombly's workshop was only a slight detour to their left. Stopping on a rooftop, he made sure to stop Aeron and pointed back towards his place, and then pointed at his beloved silenced 9mm Krinkrakata, quietly suggesting she should probably get something a bit more substantial than knives and ribbons before heading out.

Aeron nodded her head to show she understood what he was implying with his motions, her left ear twitching back slightly as she turned her head in the direction of his home, a place she actually had only been to once, maybe twice, the entire time the two had known each other. Stetching a bit, she figured she would continue to let him lead the way as she was not 100% sure she would be able to recall which home was his, as she normally sent her guards to get him for her. "So, do you think we will find anything good?" she questioned as they continued their travel over the rooftops to his abode.

The rest of the trip was generally uneventful, with him offering no answer to her question, aside from marveling at each others monility as they raced each other back to his place, understandably working up a bit of a sweat by the time Twombley could open the door and let his house-guest in through his little workshop. The shop itself was lined along the walls with various weapons, most in various states of repair for lack of parts, but a fair number of them were almost literally up for grabs if someone was willing to scrounge ammunition and sight it in. Leaving Aeron here as the flourescent lights began to cycle-on in the usual factory-staggered startup, he ventured deeper and fetched an old green cloak with red trim and his silenced 'Grizzly Bear' slung over his shoulder with a few spare magazines and his own gas-mask in-hand. He tossed the cloak at Aeron, offering explaination only after she caught it, "Dust storm out there is one of our biggest worries today. Aside from you being recognized by anyone with a grudge."

Aeron wasn't exactly pleased that he pointedly ignored her question, but there also wasn't much that she could do about it at the time. However, she did catch the times he would pause to watch her jump, something she more or less planned on getting him back for... eventually. "Not that many people should... unless there is another Mob boss out there who just wants my territory... which is actually very likely. Anyway, got anything assault rifles that aren't horrible when they aren't Zero'd?" she questioned as she started to rummage around his workshop, "Preferably something light weight and easy to use as a bat if I need to."

Twombly unslung his rifle and handed it to her, along with ammunition, lil Grizzly wieghed-in at somewhere around six kilograms with all its attachments, but a nod and the fact he was going to be using it himself was enough confirmation that the gun was indeed sighted-in and in working-order. He also pulled a somewhat beaten-up looking Mac-10 off the wall and handed that to her as well, then palmed a few extra magazines for his little beastly sidearm. Nodding quietly, he flicked-off the lights and led the way back out into the night, locking the door behind them.

Walking out into the street, Twombly leveled his gun to oncoming traffic, a truck of some sort headed for one of the lesser domes with medical supplies and whatever other things this town made that the outlying settlements found useful. He personally wasn't interested in hijacking the shipment, just that leveling a gun was quite a bit more effective at convincing drivers to stop than simply sticking your thumb out by the side of a road.

Aeron raised an eyebrow as Twombly leveled his firearm at the incoming vehicle, though she did not complain about his methods as it ensured the vehicle came to stop. Inside was a rather flustered looking Cheetah that looked like she had had entirely too many cups of coffee ontop of her already jittery nature. "C-can I h-help the two of you?" she stammered out just before Aeron told her that they just needed a ride through the dome and out into the wastelands. On top of that, the Cheetah wouldn't even have to bother with stopping, she would just need to slow down enough for her two passengers to jump right off.

Once the Cheetah agreed, after some more persuasion and a promise from Aeron that they wouldn't take a damn thing, the two were chilling in the back of the truck and driving away. "Welp, here we go, mask up and we can go see all the goodies we can find," she stated as they neared the exit, pushing her to cover her face with the mask. Once it was nestled properly, she relaxed and scanned around, only to spot a commotion not too far away. Curious, she tugged on Twombly's coat and motioned to the location before she banged on the truck to signal the driver to slow down.

When the truck reached a reasonably safe speed, she hopped off and kept the momentum going as she ran a bit before slowing to a stop. Turning, she waited patiently for Twombly to catch up, not at all pleased with the fact a dust storm had kicked up. If anything, it meant finding their way back would probably be a bit of a pain in the ass.

Twombly was quickly out after Aeron, and was first to find cover in some buildings, staying put only long enough for his partner to find cover and get herself into a position for him to start a bounding maneuver from one ruined building to the next, trying their best to stay out of sight and cover some decent ground, but never allowing themselves to get too far apart if anything were to happen.

Up ahead was the grissly scene of a fresh firefight, a burning truck was still smoldering with bits and pieces of weapons and ammunition stewn about the wasteland, the howling sands already threatening to swallow up these treasures forever, what few bits of intact munituins left in the truck were already starting to cook-off from the intense heat.

Working quickly, they made it to the nearest building to the carnage, a busted and blown-out factory, roughly 2 to 4 stories tall depending on whether or not you wanted to bother with an intact roof over your head, it provided some shelter from the wind and a bit more concealment from any stragglers. Or so he hoped. He hadn't counted on someone else having precisely the same idea, and soon came face to face with a black hearing-impaired wolf with a sniper-rifle.
@FallenTrinity

The ringing in his ears had subsided, but not by much. What was once enough to keep him planted was now more of a nusance, causing him to cuss quietly to himself as it ceased only when he would pop his ears and not for long. Luckily, his balance had returned somewhat and he managed to move what was left of his concealed position off of him and sat up.

[color=next time I won't use as much...God damn ears! Arrrrrghhh!"[/color] He mumbled as he stuck a finger in his ear, wriggling it around in the hopes it would stop but to no avail.

He sat up, and looked around his current area. The third floor of the factory changed a bit after the blast and was lucky enough to avoid a large piece of shrapnel from entering his ribcage if only by a few inches. John quietly thanked the divine for their intervention in keeping him alive. Shaking off the rather close call he begun to pack up. Taking the rifle apart was a rather simple. A button here and a slide there and the rifle was back in the case it was once in. The wolf side and stood up.

Thud

"Sonova...That hurt" Once again he picked himself off the ground. Apparently it took a bit longer to regain balance after only being 20 or so odd feet away from a 3.5lbs C4 blast than usual. He tried shaking it off, hoping that he could push past the dizziness that came with it. 'Is this what being drunk is like? Shit.' He rubbed the back of his head as he made to the staircase and begun his descent back down to the ground floor. John was a wolf of many things. He was a Jack-of-all-trades and only an ace of a few, killing being one of them. But it was at points like this that scared him. His ears were ringing which meant sneaking up on him would be alot easier than normal. His balance wasn't all there and sadly his sight came with that as his world still spun slowly. This would cause hand to hand combat to be that much more difficult. With these two things wrong he was even more focus than usual. Only one other time had he been this alert and he had only gotten lucky. He was slightly prepared this time around and he didn't want to take any chances. He withdrew Cujo from his left side and held it comfortably in his right hand, ready for whatever would come his way.

As Twombly scouted up the stairs, he caught the glint of something against the walls and backed up, listening. Footsteps: slow, delibrate; a heavy-set person was clearing their way down the steps, no other footsteps so it seemed safe to assume this person was alone. Just another scavenger he hoped, but why he was upstairs instead of sorting through the ruins suggested this person was more of a raider getting ready to prey upon the weak.

He knew the steps were a choke-point, there weren't too many other ways back to the ground in one piece left to this building, and although the other person was obviously cautious, they clearly were neither looking for nor expecting anybody. He gave a wave to Aeron to stay put, lest he need to worry about her well-being too. He could hear the step moving closer, and was wating for the soonest 'tell' to broadcast when they would round his corner; low ready, high ready, close to body or arms locked out... knife or gun... all variables that had to be taken into account as he made himself ready to move.

Then he caught sight of it, a boot, a flash of muzzle, and a pant-leg. His left arm shot out, and swept the slide of the custom stainless-steel M1911 back, emptying the chamber and locking the action open as he flicked the takedown-lever and separated the slide from the rest of the frame. It was here, in the stairwell that he finally could get a good look at his surprisingly well-dressed opponent. Tall, black, wearing a suit-jacket no less. His eyes then saw he was only holding the gun in one hand, and quickly focused on what the other was up to.

John had made his way down the staircase, thinking about when he would meet with...What was it again? Vex...Ah yes. That beautiful little vixen who caught his eye back in the Hole. A light smirk crossed his face until it was immediately replaced with fear and anger. A hand shot out at him, but not directly himself, rather his pistol. One of John's biggest fears was being caught off guard and it was here and now that his fear became reality. As the hand shot out, he went to lift the gun and fired, only to find that he couldn't, the slide had been taken off. So instead he released the rest of the gun and went for the hand's sleeve, gripping tightly as he launched himself off the staircase, bringing the rifle case up from underneath, aiming for the figure's chin. John was already eyeing up his next target and it would be the end game for this scavanger.

Not liking that Twombly had told her what to do, Aeron made an unseen face behind the mask she was wearing and silently followed after the male just in time to see the attack and the reaction. Blinking in mild confusion as to how something had happened so quickly, she found that she had the advantage of actually fully studying the figure that her boyfriend(?) was fighting. "Oh..." she murmured, "OH! HEY! BOTH OF YOU QUIT IT! John I swear to God if you kill my... my.... IF YOU KILL MY ARMS DEALER I'LL KICK YOUR ASS!"

Though she was sure the mask dulled her shouting a bit, it wasn't really all that hard to hear her considering she was pretty loud to begin with. "Now drop the damn case or I'll drop you," It was at this time that Aeron had leveled Twombly's rifle at the Merc and simply waited to see what he would do. She was a rather good shot, and since some distance had been put between the two, though not much at all considering a sleeve had been grabbed, she was willing to take a shot at an ear or two.

It hadn't crossed his mind that a female voice had spoke up, even yelled at him to stop but with the figure grabbing at him out in an area that few go it was hard for him to think they weren't hostile. Wolf's case connected with the other's chin. Slightly back a bit from where he was aiming, more or less the jaw. With the combined force of John jumping down to the figure and the hit to the chin, it was garunteed that both would be on the ground. As impact came, John reached forward, grabbing hold of the filter on the figures mask and turned it, ready to rip it off its placement.

The moment John's hand came in contact with Twombly's mask, a bullet wizzed right by John's left ear and embeded itself in a pipe. If the Round whistling by him hadn't caught the wolf's attention, the ringing of metal on metal should have done the trick. "Warning shot, next one goes in your head John," Aeron bit out, her Violet eyes narrowed behind Luciel's mask, "Drop your hand. Right. Now."

A muffled crack came through his hearing as did the tzing of a round hitting the pipes behind him was enough for him to roll of the figure and retrieved his second pistol, Old Yeller, from its holster. The case had dropped in the fall, leaving him now with two free hands, both of which were used to steady his handgun as he brought it up to...

"- - - -No...Aeron?" He lowered his gun slightly and cocked his head to the side. Behind the mask he was just confused but not as much as he would like to be. Aeron was known, much like Godmother, to get the job done herself if need be. She preferred to and John liked this about her. Now recognizing her lucious curves, he lowered his weapon until it was back in its muzzle-down position but He didn't however take the other figure out of his peripheral so Old Yeller's muzzle faced towards the downed figure, ready to bark at a moments notice.

"What're you doing all the way out...Hold on..." He scratched his head before turning to the other figure.

"Is he with you?" The question was short and quick and required and an answer as such. John didn't take many chances in the wasteland and this wasn't going to be an exception.

"No shit Sherlock," came the response as she hoisted the rifle up and let it rest on her shoulder, "What gave you the first clue?"

"There was no first clue." He shot back.

"I'm coming down the stairs so the first thing I see is a hand that-" Realization dawned on him that he no longer had Cujo on him and shot the downed wolf a glare from behind the mask. However his voice contrasted his current looming figure.

"My gun...."

"And you were about to shoot me." Twombly explained, readusting his mask to make sure it was still firmly affixed to his face, "I prevented you from being able to do that. Because I'd rather not get shot... I just wasn"t expecting the typical hoodlum to keep fighting after being disarmed." He finished, revealing his gambit was perhaps, not as clearly thought-out as John had hoped.

"Anyways, it shouldn't be too hard to find it. That shiny stainless steel frame is what gave you away in the first place. I mean, seriously, what kind of person uses show-pistols out here is the wastes? By the way..." He then nodded down to his hip, revealing that in the fall, Twombly had unholstered his krinkata and had it aimed square into John's groin-region.

"I'd say we'd fought to a bit of a stalemate." He replied, holstering his own firearm before getting up.

"First off...I was just walking down the stairs. I didn't even know you were down here let alone her. Second...It's chrome. I like chrome. Shut your face about it and finally. If I had turned any further and Aeron hadn't stopped me, that filter would have came off leaving you to di- oh...I see..." John looked down to see a firearm pointed at his groin and flicked an ear at the thought of a half-assed nuetering. He sighed and remained silent at the moment as he tried to think of ways out of that kind of situation but only one thing came to mind.

"Alright...Stalemate it is." He reholstered his pistol and held out a hand and helped him up to his feet, figuring that he could use this wolf some time in the future. He glanced over at Aeron as he went over to where he felt he dropped the portion of his pistol.

"So..hmmm...How long have you two known each other?" He asked rather nonchalantly, despite the recent event that had unfolded.

"Nine years," Aeron replied with a shrug of her shoulders, "Why, you jealous or something Johnny-boy?" Though it was unseen behind the painted mask, Aeron was wearing a rather large smirk, her teeth showing rather clearly.

John's arms dropped to the side, his knees bent slightly and he looked towards the wolf slowly and then back to Aeron and finally back to the wolf.

"How the fuck did you survive that long?" He asked the wolf in bewilderment as he thumbed over to her. Of course it was a shot at her, a dangerous but playful one. However, behind the mask, his eye twitched and if one listened closely enough, they would hear John's jealousy kick into overdrive with an internal scream.

'Fuck you fuck you FUCK you FUCK You FUCK YOUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!"'

If only they could hear what he was thinking. A light whimper was vaguely heard escaping the wolf's mouth. Thankfully covered and muffled by the mask.

@Kafka Komedy "I think its time for pulling out of this fuzzy business." With a quick hook of his finger of the right armsrest, the windows rolled up and a gentle thud ensues the closed window. The twisting of the keys and rumble that sprung the engine to life was followed by a satisfied growl. He watched as the figure succumbs to the ground and buffeted by the sand over time and laid there silent. He set the gear on the first and drove away.

"I hope you've got something from the arms deal. The explosion was something I wasn't expecting. At least if Deeandra had known that I sent somebody you to look for more information on the guy." The lynx kept peeled his eyes and fixated the road in front of him observing dangers beneath the sandstorm that was thickening.

It took them sometime to return back to the Hole thanks to the Sandstorm. Most of the trip was followed with silence and the roaring of engines as Sacha maneuvered the car to a car port of sorts.

"Could be something about knowing how to please her." Twombly stated with a shrug, before readjusting his mask and tied-off a safety-line to the building, "Or just the fact that I can out-run her when I don't." He then added, with a concealed smirk, before heading back out to collect some hardware to salvage in the relative safety afforded by the building they could lay claim to for the duration of the storm. The rope line came in handy, as the zero visibility, and the severe gusts of wind could quickly blind and disorient a person, the tether to safety being the only surefire salvation before the storm grew too intense to venture out on foot.

Another flick of the ear of irritation from John caused by the quip from the other male but found himself smirking as well to his light shot at Aeron.

"Well, I'm just surprised anyone would even try to out run her." He quipped as he picked up his disabled gun, managing to find the slide not to far away from the rest of it. With his pistol parts in his hand he placed them in his pocket and went to grab his rifle case. It now adorned a couple of scratches, nothing that would heavily damage it but the outside was his least concern rather what the damage was to its contents. He would worry about that later.

Working on the ground floor, Twombly located an old fallout-shelter, something from some old leader's days of putting an emergency-shelter in nearly every large public-access building in the country. These sorts of places were often well-looted, as they'd been known and on public record ever since the troubles began. However, what they lacked in supplies, they made up for in accommodations. Although long without power, the manual air purification system was still functional, and a few good minutes of cranking flushed all the bad air out with a dank, yet breathable air... the smell hinted at the filter starting to mildew, and should probably be replaced, but it allowed everyone to take off their masks and filters for awhile and enjoy a bite to eat without getting creative in finding ways to shove a morsel of food through a gas-mask.

John had followed the wolf and jackal to what seemed to be like an old bunker of sorts. Despite its run down nature that matched that of the surroundings its structure looked fairly intact. He considered traveling back to the Dome on foot but the sandstorm had other plans as it had intensified. The wolf went with his better judgement and followed them inside. It would seem that he would have to deal with them a bit longer, though, he did at least have Aeron to keep him company, sort of. Once the wolf had gotten what John guessed to be an air filtration system he watched to see if the other wolf would take off his mask. John didn't like the idea of removing his mask out in the wasteland in any sense of it, even if there was a chance for this thing to hold. Should it fail, the toxic wasteland air would kill them in minutes and for that reason he let the maned wolf be the proverbeal guinea pig.

Without much warning, Aeron reached up from behind John and yanked his mask off, haven taken the one she was wearing off shortly after the air had been cycled. "Stop being a scared little pup," she teased before removing the cloak she had been wearing and setting on the floor as a sort of blanket so she wouldn't have to dirty herself, "Tommy-boy and I used to hit up this old bunkers all the time when I scavenged a bit more, all of them have proven safe, and this one we've used more than once." Kicking back, she stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes a bit as she had gone barefoot, like normal.

John's eys shot wide open as he held his breath, turning to Aeron with a glare, more or less at the pup comment but it didn't take long for him to turn it into a more playful glare. He really couldn't get mad at her, he knew her for some time before she went off on her own. If anything he was just glad to see her again. He started to hear the other one pipe up, turning his goldish yellow eyes on him.

"Besides, this place works on the same principle as the climate inside the dome..." Twombly started, chastising the wolf a bit further with such flawlessly obvious observational skills, pausing only because Aeron's legs had caught his eye mid-disassembly of probably the 10th rifle he'd brought in "Just not to the scale of its inhabitants becoming self-sufficient." He added, setting his work down long enough to walk over to the Mafioso and nuzzle her cheek in the confined space.

"Well that's pretty neat, I guess you been in the wastelands longer than in the city I suppose." He sighed. He really didn't like coming out to the wastelands. If he wasn't so keen on keeping up with his rules he would have added "No jobs in the wasteland" but money is money.

Behind the dealer laid a pile of 'good' parts, and a pile of 'bad' parts all from presumably the same model of firearm, or at least ones common enough to have interchangeable components. He tossed the upper part of 'Cujo' to John, figuring he knew how to re-assemble his own gun, even though it was a bit dark. "So... 'John'. How long have you known Aeron and why aren't you dead yet?" He asked, in a playfully teasing manner.

Johnathan Wolf planted himself against a wall opposite of the two. One leg stretched out while the other was bent to allow him a make shift resting place for his arm. His hand was limp but gestured to Aeron. A smirk starting to form on his face as he looked towards Aeron's body. He replied back to the other one however his eyes didn't leave Aeron's body...



"Don't know. She's a glass cannon. Just need to know how far to let the fuze go before it blows up in your face i suppose. Kinda hoping that she would've stayed with me. Had alot fun with her." He sighed and shook his head.

"But that's in the past now. Anyway. You know my name thanks to her but I don't know yours. Then again to be fair I haven't properly. Name is John, and you are?" He now cocked an eyebrow at the wolf, a subtle squint of the eyes.

"Twombly." The spindly canid grunted as he racked the charging-handle of a freshly assembled FAMAS, giving it a final function-check before tossing the ammo-less rifle over to John and starting work on an MAT-49. "I fix things. And don't worry about your secrets being spilled, that little bit of mystery helps sell merchandise, first to your enemies trying to protect themselves from a hit, then to those who wish to hit them." He paused, almost sure that the reason why helping keep his clients identities a secret were a thing... "Imagine I told some paranoid rich target the residencies of every hitman in New Earlton. He started, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and casting a deadly serious stare at John, They'd contract out all the best hitmen to battle-royal each other, then go after their friends and families, everyone they ever cared about... and that would be the end to it, no more sales. But keep the names and numbers of clients a secret, and they'll be dancing in an eternal arms-race with their assassins."

Delvin Crawford

Delvin had been sitting at the bar silently for the last hour or so, awaiting Sacha's return. He should've just taken the payment when he found him out in the field, but he had missed that opportunity by a long shot. He shook his head and sipped on his drink, intending to make it last.

Soon enough, the amber liquid disappeared completely from his glass, leaving only a pair of granite cubes in the cup and the disappointment of the lynx's absence on his face. "Fucking Christ, where the fuck is that asshole?" He left the glass for Ansel to collect, along with the crowns needed to cover the drink, and retrieved a pair of goggles from his vest. He slid them over his eyes and left the building, walking out into the sandstorm in an attempt to take seconds off his meeting. Over the noise of the wind howling and kicking sand through the city, he could barely make out the rumble of an engine approaching slowly. "That better be his ass..." The bird mumbled to himself, crossing his arms and trying to spot headlights through the storm.

@VKAllen@Hawlin

Deeandra~

~Several Hours Later~

tick... tock.

Now cleaned from her wounds, the snow leopard sat in a large regal chair centered in the dimly lit room, ears flicking in irritation with her newfound guest. Thick medical gauze hid itself beneath the layers of white fabric wrapped tight against her shoulder, the wound itself being rather shallow causing an annoying sting, taking form through an apparent lack of patience. The clock on the wall continued ticking obnoxiously, as minutes dragged on, offering no new developments in Marcus’ surgery. When the bullet entered his abdomen, the metal wished to slow its onslaught by tearing its way into his ascending colon, eventually lodging itself in surrounding tissue, causing massive internal hemorrhaging and a particularly nasty opportunity for infection. Upon removal of the foreign object, portions of the organ would have the same fate. Even if he did survive, the recovery would be a long one. Aside from this, shrapnel from the flying debris led to the amputation of his tail. More than likely, the greatest blow came to his pride.

For now, all the family could do was wait…that and entertain their guest.

Placing her hand on a temple she massaged it, forming methodical circles, as to prevent snapping any further. Feigning a smile, sarcasm lined with irritation began entering her tone despite the initial plans of remaining civil, “Riki @Zen ego, to what do I owe this pleasure. You truly have a knack for showing your mug at the worst of times.” Picking up a throwing knife off the table Dee twisted it in her hands, before throwing it his direction, the movement controlled enough to snip the fur on the edge of his left ear. Landing against the wooden walls, the item embedded itself with a soft thud. “I haven’t the time to entertain myself if your trade. I’m on the hunt for who killed one of my men, not that it should come as any surprise to you.” Grabbing a file, she began mindlessly filing her nails.

tick... tock! Tick!...Tock!!

In her intial rage, Deeandra's blame simply rationalized itself in the idea of the conspiracy being but a chess piece in Sacha’s @VKAllen grand scheme. As time passed by, her mind beginning to function clearly once more, it became blatantly obvious such was not the case. Nevertheless, Deeandra fully intended on discovering the truth straight from the horse’s mouth, or in this case that of a conniving lynx. No doubt she would show herself in the Hole very soon. There was still that date to consider. A lady like herself? Missing out on a chance to keep her enemies close and avoiding having to use Riki for information? All too good to pass up on.

Sticking her hand out, pleased with the result she placed the file back on the table, growing tired of this 'beating around the bush nonsense'. “Alright, Rik. We’ve been friends for a long time; neither of us is oblivious to the actions of the other. I know you know I’m trying to cut ties. You know I know it is unfathomably more challenging than I’d prefer. And we both know we’d kill the other if possible. So what do you say we stop playing in sandboxes?”

TICK!... TOCK!

Pinching the bridge between her nose, she unholstered her Tiger’s eye, as a loud pop replaced the sound of the infernal contraption. By no means had she ever loathed a clock as this, or its mockery.