Jerrah's position as an enforcer for the Choppers led to some less than savory happenings. Tonight seemed to be one of those nights. She'd been hanging around Malakaus's HQ for the day, doing some little bits of maintenance both for the base and for herself. The daily exercise consisted mostly of heavy weight lifting, keeping her muscles strong for the inevitable fights that she'd be getting into. On most nights, she would've finished that off and moved on to sharpening her chopper, or maybe even cleaning her shooter, but a message incoming made her phone vibrate.
With an annoyed grunt, she returned the barbell to its rack and sat up, grabbing the phone and looking at the text. She hated talking over phones. Face to face conversation was much preferable, so that words could have immediate consequences if the need arose. Text wasn't much better to her, but she recognized its usefulness. The message was of some concern, but simply read "Rowdiness at the production house. Need some backup."
It didn't surprise her. The Choppers had some ownership on houses that produced drugs, though she kept her distance from the substances herself. It made good money, but the people who worked on making it tended to hire desperate addicts to maintain flow of the products. Most days, they were happy to help, but every now and then things got a bit messy. Whether it was a bad withdrawl or a violent high, she had to come and prevent whoever was making a mess from blowing up the labs.
Without sending a message response, she got up and walked towards the HQ's exit, pulling on a thick leather jacket on her way out. She didn't bring any weapons this time, not really needing them to knock sense into a probably-emaciated druggie. Even if it was something that made them especially strong, she was an orc, and a pretty beefy one at that. Knocking heads around was nothing.
She proceeded to the house in question, ducking in and out of alleys to avoid drawing too much attention. While she was well-respected among the Choppers, she lacked their leader's luxury of being so powerful that others would look the other way. Even under his unition, there were issues with acceptance among others. Her route took her there quickly, and she immediately heard breaking glass and arguments inside.
Entering, she immediately detected someone freaking out and smashing up vials and containers that held ingredients and finished substances alike. He appeared to be human, but with his atrophied muscle, broken teeth, and damaged skin, it was a bit hard to tell immediately. She grabbed him by the neck, dragged him to the door, and threw him outside.
When he hit the ground, she put a foot on his back and applied some pressure. "What do you think you're doing, grot?" She growled out, her voice threatening. "You're gonna break the boss's supply? And for what? You think you'd get away with it?" She didn't know nor care what the motivation was. Her presence was about intimidation. "If you don't calm down right now, you're done. Look at you, you pathetic waste. We're the only reason you're even alive anymore."
Instead of any verbal response, Jerrah felt a sharp pain in her calf as a shard of broken glass was used to stab her, in an attempt to get her leg off of his chest. She growled, moved her foot to his neck, and applied more pressure until he stopped moving entirely. Looking back at the house's doorway, which was currently filled with other people watching, she barked an order at them. "Get rid of this lump of meat and get back to work. You're all responsible for making up on losses. Get back to work." She removed her foot from the now-still offender and left, heading back to the HQ.
Back at the headquarters, she took off her jacket and headed to the bathroom, putting her leg up on the sink and grunting a little. "Damn junkies," She cursed, taking hold of the shard of glass and tugging it out. The wound wasn't too deep and there wasn't anything on it besides her own blood, but she still made sure to clean it thoroughly.
With an annoyed grunt, she returned the barbell to its rack and sat up, grabbing the phone and looking at the text. She hated talking over phones. Face to face conversation was much preferable, so that words could have immediate consequences if the need arose. Text wasn't much better to her, but she recognized its usefulness. The message was of some concern, but simply read "Rowdiness at the production house. Need some backup."
It didn't surprise her. The Choppers had some ownership on houses that produced drugs, though she kept her distance from the substances herself. It made good money, but the people who worked on making it tended to hire desperate addicts to maintain flow of the products. Most days, they were happy to help, but every now and then things got a bit messy. Whether it was a bad withdrawl or a violent high, she had to come and prevent whoever was making a mess from blowing up the labs.
Without sending a message response, she got up and walked towards the HQ's exit, pulling on a thick leather jacket on her way out. She didn't bring any weapons this time, not really needing them to knock sense into a probably-emaciated druggie. Even if it was something that made them especially strong, she was an orc, and a pretty beefy one at that. Knocking heads around was nothing.
She proceeded to the house in question, ducking in and out of alleys to avoid drawing too much attention. While she was well-respected among the Choppers, she lacked their leader's luxury of being so powerful that others would look the other way. Even under his unition, there were issues with acceptance among others. Her route took her there quickly, and she immediately heard breaking glass and arguments inside.
Entering, she immediately detected someone freaking out and smashing up vials and containers that held ingredients and finished substances alike. He appeared to be human, but with his atrophied muscle, broken teeth, and damaged skin, it was a bit hard to tell immediately. She grabbed him by the neck, dragged him to the door, and threw him outside.
When he hit the ground, she put a foot on his back and applied some pressure. "What do you think you're doing, grot?" She growled out, her voice threatening. "You're gonna break the boss's supply? And for what? You think you'd get away with it?" She didn't know nor care what the motivation was. Her presence was about intimidation. "If you don't calm down right now, you're done. Look at you, you pathetic waste. We're the only reason you're even alive anymore."
Instead of any verbal response, Jerrah felt a sharp pain in her calf as a shard of broken glass was used to stab her, in an attempt to get her leg off of his chest. She growled, moved her foot to his neck, and applied more pressure until he stopped moving entirely. Looking back at the house's doorway, which was currently filled with other people watching, she barked an order at them. "Get rid of this lump of meat and get back to work. You're all responsible for making up on losses. Get back to work." She removed her foot from the now-still offender and left, heading back to the HQ.
Back at the headquarters, she took off her jacket and headed to the bathroom, putting her leg up on the sink and grunting a little. "Damn junkies," She cursed, taking hold of the shard of glass and tugging it out. The wound wasn't too deep and there wasn't anything on it besides her own blood, but she still made sure to clean it thoroughly.
