Through a hidden magical archway in an alley in Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan, there was a large speakeasy - one of many - where the Serpeverde Crime Family sold alcohol that was officially banned by the Magical Congress of the United States, such as Goblin Ale, Dragon Whiskey, Trollshine, etc. Soft music drifted over the immense dining hall from enchanted instruments that played themselves as chatter rang out amongst the varied clientele.

Sitting in a booth at the back end of the establishment was Bobby Zucco, whose dark eyes scanned the area for those who would be joining him shortly. He looked to be in his late twenties, tall with dark brown hair, and warm ivory skin. He was clad in No-Maj clothing, which was typical of Wizards and Witches in big cities.

“Can I get anything for you, Bobby?” asked a waitress passing by.

“Not just yet, Marissa. I’ll wait to order till the rest of my party arrives, but thank you,” he replied politely. She smiled and nodded before heading off to serve another customer. He was waiting for several Family Associates who were still new recruits, and they would be starting a small crew under his leadership. They had each been given instructions to meet at this particular speakeasy, where they would go over the details of their first mission. Bobby patiently awaited their arrival.

”Where are you going, Filhota?” The middle-aged woman with prematurely-graying hair asked, looking up from the day’s issue of New York Ghost.
”To a job interview.” Her daughter replied as an enchanted hair brush finished brushing her hair.
”What kind of job?” Maria continued, the Ghost and its daily drivel forgotten.
”Stable and paying?” Alícia replied in jest.
”Yes, but what kind?” The elder Correia pressed on.
”Don’t know, I think it said something about a pole and stilettos, I wasn’t really paying attention.” The younger one shrugged.
”Alícia!” The older woman exclaimed as if scolding her daughter for avoiding her question, not quite managing to hide the eyeroll and smile.
”It’s an entry-level job at a family venture. They mostly deal in hospitality.” The young woman lied, telling herself she wasn’t lying to her mother. Technically she wasn’t, as if that made it any better.
”Hospitality? Like a hotel?” Three things were certain in life: Death, taxes and the persistence of a bored person’s questioning.
”Not quite. I have to go, I’ll get some Pastel on the way back. Até mais!” She tried to end the conversation on a savory note before transforming into a crow and flying out of an open window.

When Alícia received the instructions about where she was supposed to meet Robert Zucco, her first thought was “Must be one hell of a silencing charm on that place if it’s next to Hell’s Kitchen.” Unfortunately, it turned out to refer to a part of New York, not the famous No-Maj - or Muggle, geographically speaking - chef’s restaurant. What a shame, go her hopes up for a good lunch. The crow circled the nearby blocks a few times before diving into an out of sight alleyway. A crow went in the top, a woman came out the side. Before long the sound of cuban heels against the floor heralded Alícia’s arrival to the speakeasy, still with a bit of time to spare by her count. Tall for her nation’s average, clad in a Slytherin green shirt and black jeans, what the No-Majs would call ‘business casual’, and carrying herself as if she naturally belonged there, and technically she did - she had been instructed to be there after all.

She grabbed the drinks menu and turned around to lean against the bar, ostensibly browsing the drinks selection while surveying the patrons. It took her about a minute to see him: Back of the room, tall and generally matching the description. She set down the menu and headed out, eyes fixed on an empty table a few rows beyond Bobby the entire time before making an abrupt stop by his booth. ”Mr. Zucco?” Alícia asked with a polite smile.

The slim almost rake thin Greek man leaned on a street side light post. Watching the passing people as they weaved their way through city streets. Manhattan is and interesting place. So many vibrant places. On the no-maj and the magical sides. Out here in the streets just outside magical Hells Kitchen. Put here all the No Maj walked along mere feet from another world entirely. Out here his grey polo shirt fingerless gloves beanie and blue trousers said "bad fashion sense". For the most part.

But during a lull the man spins and heads into an alley, pulling a dark laquered stick from his pocket, 10 inches long, very rigid, greek fir wood with dried Gorgon scale as a core. Very good for darker magic. And for being sneaky. A swish and a swift tappa tappa tappa to a series of odd items in the small alley he's in. And soon the fence at the end swings towards him.

And into another world he enters. The world of magic and spells and incredible and strange things. As the thin bald headed man winds his way through the streets he tosses a few sickles to a street vendor, grabbing a skewer from the stall. And he's nibbling at the lamb skewer when he steps through another hidden door.

And into the back entrance of a small speakeasy. Serpeverde turf, place to get some good drink. With skewer still in hand maybe a quarter of the steaming fragrant meat still on it he peers around. Then spots Zucco, he's seen the kid around some. And as he's approaching the table another young face beats him there.

Interesting.

With skewer held proudly he calls, "Hey there Bobby, what's happening eh malaka?"

"Shh...Oto, you're going to give yourself away," Aurelia whispered to what appeared to be herself in the train car of the subway that ran underneath New York City. All she wanted to do was to locate the possible sightings of a phoenix nest after she finished her last scare job, however, she was called to meet up with Bobby Zucco at one of the speakeasies the Serpeverde Family owned. Auri clutched her warn dark leather pack on her lap as she rode to the next stop. She exited with the mass of people traveling to destinations of their own.

With her pack's loops secured over her shoulders, Aurelia walked up the steps from underground as her scaley patterned scarf hissed softly. She gently patted said scarf nonchalantly as if she were adjusting it while walking down the street. Auri walked to Hell's Kitchen, her gaze cast around carefully before stepping through the archway. Stepping out on the other side, Aurelia smiled softly at the bouncer poking his gaze through the hole in the wall, she flashed the hidden Serpervede Crest underneath her 'scarf' and the man allowed her in.

Aurelia walked through the crowd, her eyes taking in the various faces. She gently tapped the scarf causing it to swell and come to life. An infant horned serpent cast rested along her neck and shoulders. The serpent was practically the length of Auri herself, only with the creature contently wrapped around her upper body. His head turned and observed the environment as well before nuzzling against Auri's right cheek. She smiled softly and padded the top of the serpent's head as she reached where Bobby and the two others were seated.

"Apologises for being late, the subway was packed full of Non-majs today," Auri explained as she sat down in the empty chair.

Bobby rose to his feet as a dark haired woman stopped at his booth. He shook her hand, smirking. “Mr. Zucco was my father.” he said jokingly. “You can just call me Bobby. Alícia Correia, I presume? Please, have a seat. The others should be joining us shortly.”

Before Bobby could sit back down, he spotted Nico approaching and chuckled at jokingly being called a jerk-off in Greek. “Ooh! Sei proprio uno stronzo! Always breaking balls, this guy! Get your sorry ass over here!” He put an arm around Nico and patted him on the back, then introduced him to Alícia.

As the three sat down, they were soon joined by a fourth, who apologized for being late. Bobby waved away her concern. “These things happen. Aurelia Beauxbaton, yes? Please, have a seat.”

Before he could say anything else, an older heavyset man with graying hair stumbled towards them. He was obviously drunk. “Little fucking Prince Bobby Boy. What a fucking joke.” He said in a slurred voice.

“Richie, get the fuck out of here,” Bobby replied with an annoyed sigh. “You’re drunk. Go home.”

“Little fucking golden boy. I’ve been waiting decades to become a Capo and you just waltz in and get special treatment. Lotta guys have it out for you, little cunt!” Richie spat.

“Then let them make a fucking move!” Bobby snapped back, jumping to his feet. The two men glared at each other. “What about you, cocksucker? You making a move? …Nah, you ain’t got the balls to go after another Made Member!”

The two men stared in silence for a long moment, then Richie scoffed and began walking for the door, saying over his shoulder, “Just you wait, Bobby Boy! Sooner or later you’ll get what’s coming to you!”

“You first, lard ass!” he called out as Richie stormed out of the bar. Bobby then sat back down. “Sorry about him. He went and got his panties in a bunch over my promotion. Made Members aren’t allowed to fight each other unless the other guy makes the first move, so it’s just shit-talking right now. I hope he crosses the line, to tell you the truth. Wouldn’t mind cutting open that fucking pig… Anyway, let’s put in our orders and then we’ll get down to business.”

After they had whatever food and drink they ordered, Bobby opened his coat and pulled out his wand from a harness strapped underneath.



He placed the tip of his wand against a crest that was embedded in the center of the table and muttered an incantation under his breath.



The sound of other patrons was suddenly snuffed out and the air became unnaturally quiet. Bobby slid his wand back into the harness. “No one beyond this booth can hear anything we say until I dispel the charm. Can’t be too careful these days, you see. Anyway, on to business. As you know, the Serpeverdes control all illegal alcohol coming in and out of the City. Well, we have some upstart pieces of shit trying to inch into our trade. A group of street rats who call their gang the Blood Pack. They’re Animagi who normally stick to pickpocketing and petty theft. But now they have a bar hidden under the Bethesda Terrace in Central Park. You know the secret archway that leads in here from the alley? Well, they have a similar entrance hidden near the restrooms under the Terrace. We’re gonna roll up on them and tell them to stay the fuck in their lane. Send a message. And of course loot whatever valuables they have there. Any questions?”

”Noted, Bobby. Alícia” She returned the handshake. She stood back up to greet another one as soon as she sat down, introducing herself by her first name to the lanky, bald man - Greek, as indicated by the ‘malaka’ - approaching the table. It reminded her of the year at Durmstrang and having to get a Comprehension Charm cast on her every day. Worth it though. She greeted the second arrival in the same way before realizing something was wrong, moving to a seat as far away from the danger noodle as the booth allowed and Alícia spent the rest of the meeting giving the serpent the side eye. Pretty famous name on that one, perhaps just a coincidence, but at least she’d be easy to remember.

She observed the heated exchange between Bobby and the other guy, briefly considering trying to defuse the situation before deciding it wasn’t really her problem to deal with. She did, however, reach into a front pants pocket under the table, her fingers finding the textured ebony wood handle of her wand inside the modified pocket, the words ‘Petrificus Totalus’ staging on her tongue just waiting to jump into action.
”I wonder why he got passed over. Noooo clue at all…” Alícia noted idly when the booze barrel sauntered away, letting go of her wand. ”Is there a full name to the face, just in case all the hot air blowing from that direction ever brings a monsoon?”

With a plate of waffles on the table and the serpent in her field of view at all times, Alícia listened to Bobby’s briefing carefully, taking mental notes. Animagi. That could go two ways: Either they were like her and this would go smoothly, or they would end up in a fight with a polar bear or a jaguar or somesuch nonsense.
”Nothing like taking a nice walk through the park and stopping for a drink. But street rat fingersmiths to underground speakeasy proprietors? That’s got to be a whole pile of Dragots to get started, right? Even if they’re targeting the No-Maj’s because there’s more of them and their police are useless at dealing with magical crime, how much can they be making picking pockets and stealing bicycles?” She wondered.

Nico chuckled and bowed a little under Bobby's arm, "Haha only you Bobby, just you. Fella like you needs to know there are guys out here that are at your back, but won't kiss your feet." He waves to the proprietor, about to ask for some troll mead. But first an intro to Alícia, with a smile he extends his hand to her, "Yassas! Nicodemus Karras, curse breaker, safe cracker, all around jack of all trades. You got a lock you can't break with an Alohomora? You bring it to me and I can get it open. Pleased to meet you." And then the other member of the new crew arrives and he nods, "Another one! Welcome to the party." And an extension of his hand to Aurelia, "A Beauxbaton? Like in the famous french school? Malaka that's some prestige." He again is about to wave to the bartender.

And then someone decides to make an ass of themselves.

Now Nico knows why he's here. He's muscle. Without looking like muscle. He can crack a safe better then nearly 100 of the other so called safe crackers in the city. But he's also sometimes tasked to get dirty. Ever since the Serpeverde clocked him and brought him in, he's been doing some dirty jobs here and there. So when Richie come marching up Nico places himself at Bobby's shoulder, "You got a lot of balls marching up here boy. Get a move on dick head." With Bobby getting the last word in Nico makes for his seat finally ordering his troll mead, and a nice toasted chicken clubhouse with some wedges on the side.

Nibbling Nico sits and nibbles as the listening ward goes up, "That's an impressive spell Bobby. Impressive work on who ever came up with it." And then the briefing began.

Nico listened and munched, keeping his ears open, and his eyes on Bobby as he speaks.

After abit Nico speaks, using a seasoned potato wedge like a baton to emphasize his words, "So a bunch of uncontrolled animagi are getting uppity and stepping out? Brave bunch. Taking a step out of their comfort zone." He sips his drink making a face at the sting of the drink as it goes down, something akin to absinthe with a hint of pepper and honey, "Hah, who's supplying them? Money and drink and food. All of a sudden the rats, no offense to an animagus here, but the rats suddenly have a bar. Don't clock right." He sniffed and took a big bite of his sandwiches and swallowed it all down before finishing his two cents, "But probably best to shove them back into their place before they start thinking too big. Sounds good to me boss." He gives a nod and finally bites into the wedge he's been waving around.

Aurelia smiled hesitantly and nodded to Nico's comment about her last name. She was about to explain a bit when Richie, a fellow member decided to interrupt their meeting. She arched an eyebrow as Bobby was verbally attacked by an elder clan member, who clearly didn't appreciate Bobby's new promotion in the Family. She kept her face neutral, calmly petting Oto as the two men stared each other down until Richie finally gave up. Barely smart on his part, he was now on Bobby's radar and everyone at this table.

"Richie was too upfront about his displeasure. Such vocal animosity to a promotion given by the Heads of the Family will surely earn relation from the Heads once word reaches them. They don't enjoy their decisions being questioned," Aurelia quipped as Oto nuzzled happily into her hand.

Auri watched Bobby place the charmed device on the table and the group was enveloped in a secrecy bubble. She listened to Bobby's explanation of their job for the Family and sighed. "Not all of them transmute into rats specifically, if I remember correctly. Some are scruffy dogs, cats, a couple of raccoons, and I think a pigeon. At least, those were the ones I had to interrogate a few years back. They were all individual interactions of lower members of the Blood Pack. I didn't realize they were a true group until the last few tried to outrun Seamus and confessed. Hard to run after their legs were stomped on. They should've stopped the first time I asked," Aurelia explained as she smirked softly at the memory of scared individuals running away from her Graphorn.

She turned her gaze to Bobby after a sip of the wine she conjured with a flick of her ivory-encrusted unicorn hair wand with a gold and marbled handle. "I doubt they will be happy with us arriving on their territory and being told to back down. We should see if there is more than just the speakeasy and booze-making. There is always more to behind the smokescreen," Aurelia spoke with a polite, respectful tone as it seemed that the individuals that she scared information out didn't send the memo to their leaders or their leaders ignored the Serpeverdes' warning. She gave another small movement of her wand and produced a modest charcuterie board to munch on cheese and crackers.

“Richie Laviano,” Bobby said in reply to Alícia’s question about his full name. He then nodded along with everyone’s suspicions about the gang’s funding. “You’re right, they may have some big ballers fronting the costs. We’ll get their sources while we’re there. I’m sure we can find a way to make them talk,” he said with a sinister grin. “So, we head in there, wreak some havoc, send a message, and see what information we can get out of them. Pretty simple plan. When everyone’s ready, we’ll apparate into the Park and make our way to the Terrace.”

After they finished their food, the group rose from their seats, paid their bill, and then disapparated from the bar. They rematerialized under the cover of some trees in Central Park before heading out onto the walkway and making their approach to the Bethesda Terrace.



Upon arriving, Bobby looked to make sure there weren’t any No-Majes watching and then whispered “Revelio” under his breath to reveal the exact location of the entrance to the speakeasy. The group passed through the hidden archway without being spotted and found themselves walking down a long hall into a magically-expanded extradimensional dining hall. There were at least several dozen people drinking and eating, and Bobby was a bit shocked the Blood Pack was running a place of that size and caliber. But still, a job’s a job.

“Alright, listen up motherfuckers!” he yelled out. “You’re dealing booze in Serpeverde territory, so you’ve obviously forgotten who the fuck we are. Consider this a reminder! Bombarda! Bombarda! Bombarda!” Bobby started swooshing his wand around, blowing up chairs, tables, and glasses. The patrons started screaming and running out the door or disapparating away.

“Who’s in charge here, cocksucker!” Bobby demanded as he zeroed in on a terrified bartender. He pointed a shaking hand towards an office door in the back. The mobster threw the guy to the side and blasted his way through the door, finding a group of twelve gangmembers who had been sitting at a table counting money but were rising to their feet to investigate the commotion. The room was quite large with a tall safe in the back and multiple stacks of crates with liquor. The thugs began pulling out their wands as several more enemies began apparating into the room to aid in the fight against the attackers.

“Leave at least one alive! Kill the rest! Expelliarmus! Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus! Avada Kedavra! Expelliarmus! Avada Kedavra!” Bobby began chaining the Disarming Spell with the Killing Curse to quickly dispatch their enemies while ducking behind one of the stacks of crates in the room for cover to dodge incoming blasts. But like rats coming out of a sewer, more and more gangmembers kept apparating into the fight…

Nico bit through his last spud and bolted thr last of the troll brew. With a hiss and a shake of his entire body he nodded, "Alright then, so Ritchie gets a mark to watch out for'em. Blow hard but you never know."

He got up with the crew stepping away from the table and was nearly perfect with his timing. A turning step and that squeezing sensation as everything raced by. After some time they popped out in Central Park. He straightened his outfit and pulled his beanie down a little tighter. Nico peered about then followed along with Bobby. Drawing his eand as they approached the terrace but kept it hidden in his palm. When the entrance faded into view he huffed, "Pretty ain't it. Who is funding these guys?"

They entered as a group. And Nico's eyebrows crept higher and higher in wonder. The place looked good. Paneling and good woods and stone. All run by the gutter snipes? This isn't right. He whip0ed his wand, and shouted, "Clear out fish." Wordless levitation spells sending trays and glasses flying. The clientele all bolting.

The bartender pointed their way inside.

And then the fun began. First he saw the safe, oh that'd be fun. But the Blood Pqck in the room and the ones coming in had to be dealt with first. He took a step to the side to get out of the way of his cree mates. Then lashed his wand, "Diffindo, Profero, Immoblius Horriblius!" He crowed. Cutting and piercing curses and a body paralyzed with a mild torture curse attached to it. He chained these together adding a bombarda and a reducto here and there to be random. All the while he inched his way across the room towards the safe. At one point taking the legs out from one of the blood pack then casting a cauterzing charm on the stumps. Getting right up on her, "Don't go far. We may need you, then smashed her head into the floor knocking the woman out. By then he's by the safe.

Despite himself Nicodemus started to look the safe over. Even as the fighting continued behind him. He nodded, "Your an interesting thing. Wonder what's inside you." He turned at just the right time catching a blood pack newbie by the collar as they tried to.jump him. He spun them and slammed them against the front of the safe then jumped back as the air is filled with the smell of burning flesh and sizzling of curses going off. He watched as the poor fella is almost eaten alive by the safe and it's curses.

Nicodemus grins, "A challenge then." He turned to rejoin the fight.

She nodded to the name, making a mental note of it for now as she finished her breakfast, huddling up close to the others while somehow keeping distance from Aurelia’s serpent.

Apparition never felt right, a strange and uncomfortable sensation compared to the majesty of flight, which also allowed one to survey the destination before arrival. ”Either they found a very generous donor, or they have an amazing transmuter on retainer.” She noted idly as she ran her hand along the wood paneling of the hidden speakeasy, gesturing toward a menu posted on an enchanted chalkboard floating across the room. ”Look at the prices. They’re undercutting the family.”. She drew her secondary wand - reasoning charms would work better than transmutation in the situation - when the boss did and started blasting, chaining the summoning and repelling charms to send furniture smashing into walls and other furniture.

Following into the backroom, she was already casting as soon as she stepped into the door. ”Duro.” She cast the hardening charm on a nearby mobster, the man turning to stone in less than a second. A mix of Reductos, Bombarda’s and the occasional Incendio followed in rapid succession, Alícia trying to make up for her wanting martial magic skill with speed, unpredictability and violence of action, focused on moving constantly or having cover rather than protective spells. One of the Blood Pack began to shift, her human body morphing into a vaguely dog-like shape the size of a large chair. ”Homorphus!” She called out, the hostile animagus reverted back almost instantly, just in time to look confused as she was obliterated by a curse from one of her compatriots. What a way to waste a Wolverine Animagus. Amateurs, these people, changing mid-fight.