Town Hall, Jeweled Bank
Mentions: NA Interactions: NA
Town hall stood out like a white quartz against the concrete gray, with its pillars and Victorian-esque architecture. Antonia took a moment to take in its grandeur before sighing a little to herself, and walking up the steps to the front door.
In the lobby, she was told by reception that the Mayor was currently in a meeting with Miss Green in the study. Antonia nodded at that, and found herself heading down the hall where the mayor's personal story was. It was about twenty minutes of standing by the door before it finally clicked open, revealing a rather demure looking Miss Green, who gave Antonia a little nod as she stepped down the hall, already fishing for her cellphone. Antonia merely regarded her neutrally, before stepping inside.
The
study was rather ornate, smelling of leather and parchment. Mayor Nocturnal sat in her seat, giving a light smile to Antonia and gesturing to the seat across from her.
”I’m glad you found the time to come see me. Coffee, tea?”Antonia slid in the chair opposite the mayor, politely declining.
”No, thank you.”The mayor simply nodded, a knowing look on her face.
”Yes, you're here to ask much more of me, aren't you?”Antonia hesitated for a moment, wondering how the mayor could possibly know. Before she pursed her lips and nodded.
”If I'm going to reform this city properly, I need a little more help.”The mayor scoffed.
”What I'm giving you isn't already enough?”Antonia took a breath, before placing a hand on the table to emphasize her point.
”Every day those stronza get more bold. This city is a powder keg ready to light, and I need to have the resources necessary to address when, not if, it goes off.”The mayor sighed, leaning back in her seat a little.
”...How much are you thinking?”Antonia had the number ready.
”An extra $20,000 (2 Wealth) every paycheck. Surely this will go unnoticed with the resources you manage.”The mayor rolled her eyes.
”I'm not made of money, Antonia.”There was a quiet moment of deliberation as the mayor thought about it, before waving a hand dismissively.
”Fine. But if I don't see someone in jail in four days, I'll be wanting a word with you, you get me?”Antonia's face remained neutral.
”Crystal clear.”
Antonia: W +5 P +5
Newpoint
In collaboration with @Qia
Mentions: NA Interactions: Bella and the Iron Roses @Qia
The air in Newpoint had soured.
It wasn’t something you could see—not yet. But it was there, humming beneath the surface, curling in the spaces between conversations, in the way people hesitated before speaking names too loudly. A shift not heralded by war drums or gunfire, but by the insidious certainty of an encroaching tide, swallowing the shore grain by grain until the land was no longer its own.
Newpoint had always been neutral. Not untouched—there was no such thing in Nocturnia—but distant. A district that kept its head down, surviving in the cracks between power struggles. But neutrality was fragile. And in a city like this, it never lasted.
Bella stepped out onto the pavement, the weight of the district settling around her like an old coat—familiar yet ill-fitting in this new context. She had walked these streets before, but never with purpose carved this deep, never with the inevitability of gravity pulling her forward. Not as a visitor, not as an observer. Tonight, she walked as a force of nature, and nature had no interest in asking permission.
The rest of her people followed behind her. Emilia, pristine in tailored black, exuded an air of effortless command. Dom, broad-shouldered and relaxed, looked like a man who was comfortable being underestimated. And Siena—Siena burned a slow and patient ember, the kind that turned cathedrals into kindling and called it cleansing.
Their presence here had not been sudden. Weeks had been spent pressing fingers into pressure points, waiting for something to give. Businesses, drowning in the quicksand of poor deals and worse debts, had been granted unexpected reprieves—new contracts, new protection, new unseen hands on the scales. The veins of Newpoint’s underground had started to twist, their lifeblood redirected, their conduits rewritten. Not a coup, not yet. A shift in gravity. A redrawing of boundaries without ever announcing the war.
And the city had begun to notice.
Today was the day they acknowledged it.
Bella adjusted the cuff of her coat, her gaze sweeping the street ahead. They had been expected—of course, they had. The streets were not empty, but they bore a silence that slithered beneath the usual cacophony of city life. A breath held just a second too long. A tension thick enough to taste.
They were being watched.
Emilia picked up on it too, her gaze flicking toward the dim glow of a corner store where a man lingered too long by the window. Across the street, another leaned against a lamppost, cigarette burning low between his fingers, his body too stiff for someone meant to look relaxed.
Siena grinned.
“
They’re scared,” she murmured, not bothering to keep her voice down. “
Good.”
Dom exhaled, rolling his shoulders back. “
They’re waiting,” he corrected. “
That’s different.”
Bella agreed. Fear alone didn’t explain this. This wasn’t just a community cowering in the face of change.
This was the moment before a gun was fired—the one where the hand still had the chance to lower the weapon or tighten on the trigger.
Bella turned slightly, speaking just loud enough for her crew to hear. “
We move as planned. No unnecessary force.”
Siena’s disappointed sigh was immediate.
Dom gave her a look. “
You can wait ten minutes before stabbing someone, yeah?”
Siena hummed in reply, noncommittal.
They reached their first destination—a club, modest in appearance but significant in presence. Not just a club, but a meeting place. A hub where Newpoint’s influential figures made their quiet deals and settled their disputes. The kind of place where power passed between hands over half-empty glasses.
And today, it belonged to the Iron Rose.
Or at least, that was the plan.
Bella pushed open the door.
The shift in the atmosphere was instant. The usual hum of conversation thinned, tension creeping in at the edges. People glanced up, eyes tracking them.
Behind the bar, a man in a too-crisp button-down straightened, his expression carefully blank. A few of the usual patrons tensed, their hands twitching toward the comfort of concealed weapons.
Emilia stepped forward first. We’re not here to ask, her posture said. We’re here because we belong.
Bella followed at her own pace, letting the silence stretch, letting them feel the moment before it shattered.
Then, movement.
A man—mid-forties, well-dressed, the kind of person who had built his career on making sure power never rested too long in one set of hands. His voice was smooth, but there was something coiled beneath it like a snake in the grass.
“
You’re making yourselves comfortable.”
Bella met his gaze, unflinching. “
That’s the idea.”
A beat of silence.
Then, a slow nod. “
I suppose we should talk, then.”
Bella smiled. “
Yes. We should.”
Outside, the watchers remained.
The air did not lighten.
If anything, it grew heavier.
Something was coming.
And when it hit, there would be no mistaking it. And but it did, to the sound of a ten-car convoy, engines roaring, coming to a stop in front of the club. The sounds of car doors opening and shutting, before the distinct sound of collected footsteps approached.
Then, the front door opened again, revealing two mafiosos who held the door open for their leader. A smaller,
well-dressed man, who removed his hat and passed it to one of his men before gazing across the floor to Bella and her crew.
He smiled.
”Seems I'm just in time.”The man who had spoken to Bella previously, the man in his mid-forties, turned expectantly to the man who had just entered.
”These are them.”The dark-haired man nodded, still smiling.
”Oh, I know exactly who they are.” Before his gaze settled again on Bella.
”Care for a card game, Miss Delacroix?”The amount of men behind him and surrounding the building would give pause to whatever response Bella would give.
Bella knew a test when she saw one.
A game, he called it. How fitting.
“
Fine,” she replied, “
And what will we be playing for?”
A challenge, yes, but also an invitation—to let him lay his terms out first.
She didn’t have to turn to know how her people responded. Dom’s weight shifted, loose but grounded, a man prepared to move in whatever direction necessity demanded. Siena’s grin slashed across her face, all teeth and wicked anticipation, eager for a fight that hadn’t yet begun. And Emilia—Emilia remained a statue of control, waiting to temper or tip the scale.
Then, in the corners of the room, a quiet shift.
A few figures who had blended into the crowd moments ago straightened, their attention now unmistakably fixed on the exchange. No overt movement, no reckless displays of force. Just a silent acknowledgment that the Red Rose Syndicate was not just four figures standing in the open.
They had already been here.
Waiting.
Watching.
And if things went sideways, they would not be alone.
Bella didn’t glance at them, didn’t acknowledge them outright—but she didn’t have to.
The message had already been sent.
And now, it was his move.
He merely smiled, already moving to one of the larger tables. His men followed in step behind him, like a popstar's entourage. They gathered behind where he sat, hands clasped loosely in front. No guns were drawn yet, so that had to be taken as a good sign, right?
The man himself pulled out a deck of shiny, red-backed cards, flourishing them as he shuffled.
”Three rounds of poker. The bet will be the district, of course. And the best two out of three wins.”The man smiled,
”I don't bite, Miss Delacroix. Please, have a seat. We'll sort this like adults.”Bella allowed herself a small smile-one that barely touched her eyes. “
You don’t bite?” she repeated, tilting her head just slightly. “
That’s…a shame.”
Siena exhaled, her amusement undiminished but tinged with something else—disappointment, perhaps, or the anticipation of a game moving too slowly for her liking. The man’s words had been a letdown, a wasted breath of patience Siena would never possess.
It was best not to take too long with this, then.
Bella lowered herself into the chair opposite him, adjusting her sleeves before resting her gloved hands lightly against the tabletop, a picture of calm.
“
So,” she said, “
how do you expect to enforce such a wager once I win?”
The man merely smiled, the ruffles of his dress shirt shifting.
”I suppose I didn't introduce myself. I'm Merlin. You could call me the Mayor of Newpoint.”Cards were shuffled.
”We'll be playing two-card poker. I'm sure you're familiar with it.”Cards were dealt between them, with two ending up in Merlin's hand, and two ending up in Bella's hand. Then, five cards were placed face up between them.
Two of spades. Three of hearts. Ace of hearts. Four of diamonds. Queen of clubs.
Merlin praised his cards, before glancing slyly at Bella.
”So, say you win our game. What do you plan on doing with Newpoint?”He flicked down his cards. A three of diamonds and a four of hearts.
”Two pair.”The way Merlin phrased the question told her plenty—he wanted to gauge her intent, her ambition. Whether she was here to uproot or assimilate.
Bella let her gaze drift downward, her fingers barely twitching as she studied the cards in her hand.
A five of clubs. A six of diamonds.
A straight. Higher than his hand.
But she didn’t move yet.
Instead, she lifted her eyes to Merlin, taking in the careful ease with which he held himself, the way his men surrounded him like the orbit of a planet.
Then, she smiled.
“
I plan on keeping it functional.”
She reached out and placed her cards down.
“
And it seems I’ll have the opportunity to do just that.”
”Functional, huh?” Merlin said, eyes staring over her slyly.
”Fairly vague answer. You'll want to be a bit more honest with me, as it'll decide how this card game, and the game of this district, will be played…” The men around Merlin, in response, put hands on the bulges where their pistols were concealed.
Merlin, without much more of a reaction, picked up the cards and redealt.
”That's one out of three. You have two more chances to prove to me that you're worth it.”The cards were dealt again. A seven of diamonds, six of diamonds, six of spades, ace of spades, and a three of diamonds were laid out flat on the table.
Merlin stared hard at Bella over the card.
”I'll ask a different question this time. Maybe it'll be easier to answer. Why should you rule Newpoint, instead of anyone else?”He set his cards down, A three of clubs and a jack of clubs. A two pair.
Bella laid her cards onto the table with the care of a gambler who already knew the outcome.
Two of spades. Eight of spades.
A loss.
She exhaled slowly through her nose, dismissing the moment like someone brushing dust from their sleeve. The real game wasn’t in the cards—it never had been.
But then–-
A sound.
Low. Soft.
A hum.
Bella didn’t move. Didn’t even glance toward Siena. She didn’t need to.
A shiver crept unbidden down her spine, the kind that wasn't caused by the cold or by logic. Her skin simply
knew.
Dom shifted, a slow roll of his shoulders, while Emilia’s eyes darted to her and back, a tiny movement—acknowledgment, not alarm.
Siena, for her part, looked unbothered. Still smiling, still waiting for the first excuse to bite.
Tap.
Bella’s fingers drummed against the table, a reset. A reclaiming of control.
“
Because a city like this doesn’t need a king, a mayor, or a saviour,” she replied as she turned back to Merlin, “
It needs someone who understands what it takes to make sure it doesn’t drown. And that’s something I know better than anyone else.”
Merlin's jaw shifted, as if digesting her words. The cards were reshuffled and redealt.
A four of clubs, six of spades, two of hearts, six of diamonds, and five of spades.
Merlin stared at his cards for a moment, before he leaned forward, flicking them down on the table. A pair.
His eyes were fixated on Bella, burning exceptionally hot.
”Show me.”And behind him, his men drew their pistols.
Bella placed her cards down.
Jack of clubs. Six of hearts. Two other sixes from the board.
A three-of-a-kind. A winning hand.
She didn’t gloat. Didn’t sneer or taunt. She simply watched Merlin, waiting for the moment the realization set in.
And then—
Siena’s humming deepened.
It had been there before, subtle as a ghost brushing past an open door. But now? Now it unfurled, thick as smoke curling from an unseen fire, threading through the room and finding its way into lungs, under the skin, and into the marrow of men who did not yet understand they were already burning.
The shift was minute at first, the kind that only those trained in the art of violence would notice. The way one of Merlin’s men blinked too many times, his pupils contracting, struggling to reconcile what his eyes insisted wasn’t there. The way another’s fingers spasmed near the trigger, his pulse hammering visibly at his throat.
Bella saw it in Dom— the silent preparation of a man who had spent a lifetime standing between danger and the people he chose to protect. A human bulwark, already bracing for the inevitable.
And she felt it too. Not in fear but in the way the fine hairs at the nape of her neck prickled, the way instinct screamed acknowledgment even when reason whispered reassurance. Siena’s power wasn’t for them, but even knowing that, even wrapped in the immunity of trust and preparation, there was no ignoring the primal shift in the air.
Something hungry had woken.
Bella exhaled through her nose, finally lifting her gaze to Merlin.
“
Looks like the game’s over.”
Then, one of Merlin’s men suddenly turned—gun raising, but not at them. At his own. A betrayal born not of intent but of something unseen. Something that had wormed its way into his skull and rewritten his reality.
Another sucked in a ragged breath, stumbling backward, eyes wide with something too wild to name. He wasn’t seeing them anymore. He was seeing something else. Something only Siena had placed in his mind.
And then there was the smart one—the one who recognized when the tide had turned, when the battle had ended before the first shot was fired. He dropped his weapon, hands up, retreating inch by inch, understanding that whatever this was, it was not a fight he was meant to win.
And that?
That was the moment everything snapped.
Hell had finally arrived.
And it was
singing as Bella flicked her wrist, a shard of crimson—pulled from the very essence of her own blood—burying itself in the tender hollow of Merlin’s throat.
It happened so fast. In one moment, there was singing, shrieking, and chaos, as the men turned on on another and themselves. As Merlin watched.
The next?
Merlin slumped in his chair, spluttering a bit as the lights faded from his eyes. Gunshots as men fell. Crying as men held their heads, rocking themselves on the floor. And the few who were unaffected? Their weapons were dropped, hands raised.
Hushed murmurs arose from the bar. The mayor had been toppled. And the one to replace him?
She sat at that table, looking as collected as ever.
Bella: W -5 P -10, W +3 P +9
Jolly Jalopy, Brewery District
In collaboration with @flux and @SporkoBug
Mentions: Matthias @ERode Interactions: The Doctor @SporkoBug, Antonio @flux
It was then, shortly after Matthias and his crew left, that Antonio began to stir. Flint wrapped an arm around his back, aiming to help the man to his, well, roots? Feet?
”Those fuckers, walked in and tried to make a move. I shoulda…” He said, voice with a hard edge to it.
Antonio put his hand up, voice strained. “You were smart boy. We only meant to show our hand, and Matthias showed us exactly the man he truly is. Now we know what must be done.” Flint lifted his hands slowly as Antonio supported himself on the bar. “Now we know exactly who he is, we know it’s right to rip his fucking heart out. The nerve. Assaulting an old man just looking to speak about faith.”
Antonio coughed, mind still a fog. “Dear boy, if you would be so kind, I ask that you would do the honour. If you would, I’ll hand you the Akula’s for this campaign. At least until I can reestablish my connection to them. They’ll follow your orders in the chaos of everything during this war. Afterward though.” Antonio looked to Vincent now. “You will be the focus of his ire if he seeks to unite the north. Reinforce yourself, prepare to weather his waves of fury.”
Antonio’s eyes drifted to Erza. “If you seek the Akula’s continued cooperation beyond the war, The Eel must be broken. I can cause enough chaos to ensure their operations assist yours for now, but once the war is done, they will establish communications with The Eel again, and they will come for us.” Antonio’s eyes now fell to the Doctor. “As for you.” He reached under the bar to procure a medical and manufacturing document. “This. Go underground, establish a laboratory, use the people I send you. Meld them with this. Build us an army of nightmares to protect our most valuable secrets. Especially if the worst comes to pass.”
Antonio wheezed, now focussing on staying upright. “I’d suggest using the Akula’s to take Elysium heights now. We have the initial strength but currently aren’t ready to weather the long war. We must expand into the east as we assault the west.” Antonio crumpled slightly. “Vincent, Corlet calls to you.” He began hacking, strength failing him.
Vincent shook his head.
”Mr. FitzClarence wont stop now, not after our little… interaction. I can take Corlet, but I would also insist on an attack on the Order.”Ezra nodded, shifting in his seat at the bar a little.
”A two-front attack.”He pulled out his phone, drawing up a map of the city with its districts, and zoomed in a little.
”Flint and the Akulas can take Elysium Heights. Vincent, you can take Corlet and Riverbend. And I…” He pointed to Lougham.
”I will take Lougham.”His white eye gazed at Antonio steadily.
”Send the Eel and some of the Akulas with me. In Lougham, no matter the outcome of the war, I will capture them.”A pause.
”Oh, and some Akulas should join Vincent's push on Riverbend. Wealth is not an issue, Mr. Litwin. I will pay your way to ensure your men can be in Elysium Heights, Riverbend, and Lougham.
“What do you say?”Antonio tilted his head. “I can ensure all that comes to pass. Only exception being The Eel. They’ve been skulking around Heavy Crossguard, I know that much. If you want them you’ll find them there.”
Ezra glanced at Vincent, who shrugged and nodded.
”Should be an easy enough matter to catch them unaware.”The Doctor took the documents from Antonio with a small nod.
”Lucky for you, I already have my own laboratory.” He laughed weakly, giving a wince as Mia kept him standing.
”I can start on this as soon as I rest up, which will be at least a day. Hopefully a half-day if my Lord gives me more power.”He had given a bit of a laugh at the earlier mention of Faith; before he looked towards Ezra for a moment.
He mulled on what he wanted to say.
”Mr. Midnight Man?” Mia suddenly spoke out,
”If my father and I would be able to speak to you before you disperse? It will be about our need for the Spiderling.” She spoke rather diplomatically; obviously her father had taught her on how to take lead, possibly for if she had to take over from him in any way.
Mia took a moment before she looked to Antonio,
”Do not worry about us creating Horrors, father has been working on some things on his own; but with this we’ll be able to create more and make Alkerua proud of the Chaos we will spread.”The Doctor looked to Mia as she spoke their ‘God’s name, shaking his head with a bit of a sigh, more smoke echoing from his mouth slightly.
Ezra leaned in his seat a little, turning so he could see Mia. The little lady was well-spoken. He'd entertain her. He'd promised Webb anyways.
”Of course, young miss. There's only a few things I need to ask from your father first.”Before his eye turned to the Doctor.
”How long will you need to get them up and running? We plan to strike tomorrow, and I want your forces split between Vincent, Antonio and I.”The Doctor looked to Mia as Ezra asked him how long it was to get them up and running; she glanced to him and gave him a hesitant nod before he looked back to Ezra quietly.
”I’ll have them by tomorrow easily. Mia will be able to help while my body recoups; we have a few horrors already ready.” He said with a weak evil smile,
”I hope you don’t mind Arachnids and Arthropods; sadly I have a muse I follow.”Ezra's eye crinkled a little.
”You’ll find very little bothers me, Doctor. Wonderful. Then, if there's nothing else to be discussed for our raids at dawn, then there is preparation to be done.” He said, glancing at Antonio, Vincent and Flint.
Antonio simply nodded, weak, strength failing him. He hung onto the Hunger that sustained him by a thread. He needed rest. Time to restore the connection that leant him his longevity.
Ezra turned to the Doctor as he began moving towards the door.
”Allow me to drive the both of you home. There are a few things to discuss considering that boy…”
It was after a few minutes of silence in the back of the limousine that Ezra finally spoke.
”After tomorrow's battle is over, I will arrange for you to do your… experiments with Webb. He is my employee, however; he'll still be functional for work afterwards, yes?”Mia had helped her father into the Limousine and fully removed his mask for him so he could breathe better.
”Of course, I will ensure he is kept whole.” Elliot replied, glancing to Mia for a moment before looking back to Ezra,
”If my mission is successful, I will have a large amount of power; in case we need to take anyone else out.”Mia tensed at her father explaining this to Ezra, was he really offering the Gods’ power to someone that wasn’t with their cult?
”I don’t think mentioning the power is a good idea.” Mia spoke softly,
”If I may speak?” The Doctor hesitated but nodded at his daughter.
”Alkerua is a being of Chaos; the likeliness of us being able to properly control them is something that might be hard to do. Offering such an ability feels… Too optimistic.” She looked to Ezra with a soft smile,
”But I promise we’ll get the Spiderling back to you. He may need to rest afterwards; but if all goes well he’ll be fine.”Ezra nodded.
”Then if you are still in agreement with my men supervising, then we will move ahead as discussed. And the plan, at the end of the day, is to ensure we are the most powerful players in this city. I will do whatever I can to ensure that.”
Khor: W +3 P +5
Webb: W +0.5
Harriet: W -3 P -5, W +2 P +6
Vincent's Office, Arakasa Tower, White Pine
In collaboration with @Yankee
Mentions: Almost everyone Interactions: Adel @Yankee
Mr. Dawson,
If you plan to visit me, I would highly recommend before dawn. The receptionist will be told to be expecting you.That was the text sent off to Adel sometime in the evening of the previous day. Now? There was only the aroma of coffee in Vincent's office as he sat in his chair, watching the news on a flatscreen TV hanging off the wall on one side of his office.
There was tension in the air. But from what, one could only guess.
He waited.
And he waited.
It was getting close to daybreak. Just when it seemed Adel might have stood him up, there was a knock on Vincent's office door. One of his staff called from beyond it. "The Canary's here."
Once the permission was given, the door opened, and there he was. For as unsure as Adel felt considering everything that had happened the day before, he looked the picture of calmness. He had been rushed before arriving, but not one strand of hair was out of place. He had put thought into this meeting, everything from how he would address the missing kid down to what he'd chosen to wear (a professional ensemble of dark dress slacks, a light button up with the collar and cuffs poking out beneath a tastefully fitted heathered gray sweater. Appropriate for a morning meeting, unlikely to show up The Boss).
Adel's brown eyes were calm and clear, letting nothing show through as he walked to the center of the room and stopped there. He even smiled at Vincent, a small, brief expression in greeting.
Though the sun had yet to rise, he said,
"good morning."”...Good morning.” Vincent said, smiling slightly. He was dressed in a black and gold
suit that matched his
office quite nicely. There was already one empty cup of coffee beside him as he motioned for his receptionist.
”Dear, could you take this and put in an order for Mr. Dawson, please?” The receptionist, a young girl, gave a nod as she slipped around Adel, plucking up the emptied cup and looking expectantly.
”What can I bring for you both sirs?””Another coffee for me, and…” Vincent's eyes hovered on Adel, waiting for him to put in his order.
He really didn't feel like drinking anything. He also couldn't decline the hospitality.
"A coffee is fine. Black."The receptionist nodded and left, shutting the door softly behind her. Vincent gestured to the leather seat opposite of him.
”Please, have a seat. I trust you bring something useful?”He was, of course, referring to the counter spying Vincent had requested of Adel the day previous. Beyond the pleasantries, there was an edge, or a glint, to Vincent. Something that didn't sit quite right. Adel sensed it, already on edge.
He also really didn't feel like sitting down. Didn't want to set Vincent off by refusing.
Adel took his time crossing the last small distance, measured steps so that he couldn't be called out on stalling. He took the top of the chair in hand and pulled it out, sitting in one smooth motion, subtly keeping the seat pulled back just that much farther away from the man across the desk.
"There's only so much even I can find in less than a day," he said. Tempering Vincent's expectations. Choosing what he would say.
"He knows that you've learned his intentions, but still plans to go through with attacking White Pine. Figures that he can beat you to the punch, so to speak. Calling in a few favors from 'friends' he's made."Vincent leaned back in his seat a little, elbow on an armrest and fingers poised against his cheek. His eyes seemed distant briefly before focusing back on Adel.
”Reasonable. What friends?”"Kairo, not that that comes as a surprise. Apparently they liked each other enough after taking down Del Guarde to make things official." It had likely been something Vincent expected, but confirmation was important.
"And Kairo's other neighbor, the Red Roses."He was throwing the Iron Rose under the bus with that, but he didn't have it in him to care at the moment.
Vincent was quiet for a moment, watching Adel's face. Just watching.
There was a soft knock at the door. Coffee with cream was placed in front of Vincent, while black coffee was placed in front of Adel. Then, the door quietly closed again.
In the relative silence, Vincent took a sip of his coffee. The cup and saucer resting in his hands.
”Anything else on your mind, Mr. Dawson?”Adel left his cup where it was for the moment, having held Vincent's stare unwaveringly. The man would be hard pressed to parse anything about Adel from merely looking at him. It had always been that way. The younger man settled back into his seat slightly, just enough to appear casual. It was too soon to bring up Omakase. He could not appear eager or desperate.
"Tired of hearing about the Order already?" he asked.
"I get it. I would be too."Vincent shook his head, his smile pleasant, as if he were talking about the weather.
”Not at all, Mr. Dawson. I just can't seem to wrap my head around why you'd think withholding information from me would be a good idea. I dislike liars almost as much as I dislike cold coffee.”A smirk.
“And no, I haven't poisoned it, Adel. I’m not an amateur. Go on, give it a try.”"I didn't think you had," Adel said with a raise of his eyebrow.
"There wouldn't be anything for you to gain by poisoning me."He leaned over and took the cup in his hands. The warmth felt good. He still didn't drink. He didn't think it would agree with his empty stomach. God, his nerves were on fire - but absolutely none of it showed. When he continued to speak he didn't seem worried about Vincent's implication at all.
"Personally, I don't believe in lies of omission. Info broker and all. I don't like giving out faulty information, so if I can't confirm it I'll hold off until I can. If you'd like some rumors, I'd be happy to let you in on them. Just don't hold me to it if they don't turn out to be true."Vincent shifted a little in his seat, setting his coffee on the table.
”...Adel. I would recommend telling me what's on your mind. I know Omakase's moved in with you. I’m giving you a chance to speak your piece before I speak mine.
“Go on.” He said, eyes ever watchful.
For a moment Adel just held Vincent's red eyed gaze. Then he very purposely let it look like he was a little embarrassed.
"News travels fast," he said, his eyes crinkling with a slim smile.
"You're right. I do have a favor to ask you. Of course I couldn't just come out and say it though, not without settling our other business first."This was still within Adel's expectations. As he'd thought, people would know he took in Omakase. He had a few reasons prepared if needed, ones that were certainly true, just not the whole truth. Since Vincent had gotten himself involved with Omakase, it made sense if he was curious about it.
"Omakase's leader offered me a job. She said you've got something of hers that she needs back, wanted to know if I could get it for her."Vincent let out a breath through his nose, his smile light.
”Smart girl. Tell me, Adel. What would you be willing to do to get him back, if I did happen to have it?”And here was the hard part.
Adel feigned surprise, a brief pass of the emotion over his face as though he hadn't meant for it to show through. First, the truth.
"...If I may say, I never liked that part about you, Signor Accardo. Kidnappings."Second, the lie. Expertly delivered.
"Ultimately it's not my problem. I stand to lose money if I don't get him back for her, that's all."Third, the probe.
"So I guess it depends on how much worth this person has to you now that Omakase's lost the ability to help you with whatever you'd needed."Vincent merely smiled. Took a long sip of his coffee.
”Strange story, the origins of coffee. They say in a land far, far away, without Walls or watch, a shepard shared his ranting and ravings with a monk. And, making the first cup of coffee, the monk stayed up all night, praying.”He set his empty cup on the table, glancing at Adel.
”...What I've needed has changed. You want the boy back?”Vincent gestured with open hands, spreading to his sides like he had nothing to hide.
”it's simple. Surrender your mind and your memories to me.”Adel's answer was swift and hard.
"No."He hadn't even thought about it. If that was what Vincent wanted, then Poppy was never getting her kid back. Guilt twisted up in Adel, but he couldn't do that for her.
He tried something else.
"I make my living selling secrets to people. If you want to know what I know, you can pay me and I will tell you. Give him to me as payment. You said it yourself I've never gone bad on a deal before."Vincent still smiled with that pleasant smile, taking in Adel's words like a type of sweetness. Then, he leaned over, pressing a button on his phone.
”You can come in now.”And the door opened not two seconds later, revealing two large guards, dressed in black suits with hard eyes. They shut the door once more, taking positions on either side of it, staring at Adel silently. Very silently.
Vincent sighed, gesturing with his hands, as if to say he tried.
”I tried the carrot method. Now we try the stick method. Adel, you're not leaving this room without letting me pick your mind a bit. Apologies, but this is what the Midnight Man has asked.
“So, you can either be a good boy and behave, or my men will do a little ‘gentle persuasion’ to change your mind.”At the mention of Ezra's epithet, Adel threw all of his pretense out of the window. He stood up, letting the untouched coffee in his hands clatter to the floor. The cup smashed into pieces, spilling dark liquid against the ground.
He was angry at Ezra, at Vincent, and maybe a little angry at Poppy too. Mostly though he was angry at himself. He
knew that Vincent and Ezra were working together thanks to Matthias, but he thought if he was smart he could help his best friend and maybe save someone for once. And now he had just put himself into another awful position again. He never fucking learned.
"Hell no Vincent," he snarled, backing away toward one of the walls so that all three other men were within his line of sight. One of his hands hovered by his hip, threatening to pull the handgun he normally had hidden on him.
"Do not touch me."His eyes flickered fast between everything in the room, anything that could potentially help him. His thoughts were a whirlwind, trying to come up with a way out.
"Why are you even working for him? I didn't think Vincenzo Accardo took orders from other mafias."They were on one of the highest floors in the tower, and besides a computer, a few heavy chairs, and some books, there really wasn't much in terms of use.
Vincent kept his eyes on him as Adel moved to the wall, wholly unbothered by the spilled coffee. The guards too, only watched, they did not move.
”Our goals align for the time being. Now I think you're entirely overreacting. Why don't you come have a seat, and tell me what you're so badly wanting to hide.”As he spoke, Adel would feel a slight pressure around him, as Vincent attempted to hear his thoughts.
(
Proof 1 Proof 2 Vincent: 12 Adel: 9)
They came like a storm.
Vincent and Adel had known each other for a while; not close, only occasional business partners. Whether out of respect or because he felt he hadn't needed to, this was the first time he'd attempted to see into the younger man's mind. Adel's thoughts were a cacophony, circling his head quickly, there one moment and gone the next as he grasped onto some and discarded others.
I can't let him in. I need to get the hell out of here. I need to get those guys away from the door. My gyft- I can get out. Stupid. I knew he was with Ezra. I can't let him know about Poppy. I shouldn't have come. I can't let him know about Khor. I'll fight. I'll cause a distraction. I'll run. What can I do? What can I do? What can I do? What can I-Various faces (and non-faces) briefly flashed in his thoughts as well, coming and going just as quickly. Snippets of the events of the night before, and mere hours before.
And when Adel realized what that static pressure on him was his eyes darkened, undisguised contempt boring into Vincent. He forced all of his thoughts to run together until they focused down into just one.
Stop.Adel stayed right where he was, tense, ready for any sudden moves, trying his hardest to keep
anything from surfacing besides his refusal.
Vincent merely smiled in his seat, thoroughly enjoying the thoughts passing through Adel's mind. As he continued to listen, hoping to glean more unguarded thoughts, he only had one thing to say.
”I'll stop if you admit you betrayed Ezra.”"Betrayed Ezra?"I was never on his side!"I'm still doing what he threatened me to do."Vincent. Stop.Vincent softly shook his head, almost giving a look of pity towards Adel.
”Still giving me the runaround. Very well.”Pink wisps coalesced around Adel as Vincent bared his teeth a little.
”Let me in, Adel.”(
Proof 1 Proof 2 Vincent: 8 Adel: 1 )
Pink wisps found purchase, sinking hooks and tendrils deep into Adel's mind. There was no pain, there wasn't even a sensation of something being wrong as Vincent made his home in Adel's mind.
Vincent didn't hesitate, now being in his element. The first command was issued: Disarm. Adel would feel his neurons changing, forcing him to think, logically, his next course of action was,
obviously, to take his gun out, drop it on the floor, and kick it in the direction of the guards.
And he did. His heart leapt into his throat as his hand moved unbidden, pulling the weapon from his waistband and letting it fall to the ground. Part of his mind struggled, wondering why the hell he'd just done that. Another part recoiled, realizing Vincent's intrusion was already complete. The part Accardo was in control of argued back, coercing his body to follow through and push the gun away from him.
Stop. Stop. Stop.Then, the next command: Read. Adel's mind would unfurl, freely showing all of Adel’s recent memories, particularly in the past two days. Vincent saw everything even as Adel tried to grasp at the memories and pull them back into the depths of his consciousness, bringing a hand to his forehead as if he could do it physically. The meeting with Ezra in which the Midnight Man's plan was laid, the phone call with Poppy showing she had already divulged everything to Adel, his visit to the Commissioner where he promised to assist her with her detectives’ investigations, tipping off Captain MacAoidh with everything he knew, his early morning with The Eel and their shared warnings, their own plans to strike at Vincent, his progress with Matthias and the chance meeting by dark when everything was revealed.
Stop! Stop! Stop!Finally: Pains. Adel's mind would show all of the most traumatic and emotional memories in his past.
He buckled as they swelled up, bracing himself against the office wall.
"I'm so sorry." A choked sob.
The tearful face of a man who could have been Adel in ten more years; lighter hair, gentler eyes.
"I love you both so much. I'm sorry-"
A woman's hand covering his eyes. Her arm wrenched away from her and his sight returned.
"Let him watch. Kids gotta grow up sooner or later."
Bullet fired from a chamber.
Hard stinging ache in his side.
"I said she's gone. Special order. Probably didn't want you no more anyway."
Cruel laughter. His own voice small. "You're lying."
A sudden shock of pain in his chest where they struck him. The men turned to each other. "They want her kid bagged up too."
Panic. Darkness. Difficulty breathing. The world pressing in.
Wide and black. Dust and an engine's rumble.
The cut of the zip-tie unfurling against his wrists, the beating of his heart.
Sniffling, sobbing, begging, voices calling for mothers and fathers.
Little hands reaching out to him.
Large hands reaching out for him.
Rough palm on his cheek, burning end of a cigarette on his skin.
"Lucky number thirteen, my boy."
A passing acquaintance gagged and blindfolded, bound and kneeling in the center of the room.
Vulture smiles. Cool metal pressed into his hands. "For your promotion."
Pure and utter revulsion.
A sinking feeling. All encompassing dread.
He doesn't have some secret password.
I'm his fucking password.Adel didn't know if he was pleading with Vincent, himself, or God, but he kept doing it.
Stop stop stop stop stopFascinating.
Vincent considered implanting a few thoughts. But, he did say he'd only look, not touch. So he gave Adel a bit of mercy, instead withdrawing his influence, leaving Adel's mind ringing pleasantly, awash and soaked in serotonin.
The brunette sucked in a sharp breath when he was released and the parade of misfortune ceased. He brought his head back against the wall with a muted crack, needed just that little bit of pain, because otherwise it was so fucking evil how
good he felt after all that. Fragments of stray memories lingered, though it was almost like seeing them through a lens, far off and not his own. Endorphins surged through his head to smooth everything over. He brought his eyes to Vincent's, swirling uncertainty, disgust, anger, and even gratefulness in his glare. It was the best he'd felt in a while, and wasn't that just messed up?
Adel let out a breathless, humorless chuckle.
"Did you get what you wanted, stronzo?"Vincent smirked.
”L'uomo conosce un po' di italiano. Bene. (Man knows a bit of Italian. Good.)”But instead of answering Adel's question, Vincent pressed a couple buttons on his desk phone. It rang, before connecting.
”You can go ahead now, please.” Vincent said, keeping his eyes on Adel.
Near the opposite wall, a splash of water cut the air. Its surface trembled with ripples, shapes and colors shifting, before a man stepped through. It was none other than Cyrus.
He glanced at Adel, far too relaxed for the situation. Gave him a mock salute.
”Hey.” Before glancing over at Vincent, shoving his hands in his pockets, stepping to the side of the portal.
Vincent glanced at Adel, leaned forward at his desk, elbows on the table and hands folded, supporting his chin. There was a dark glint in his otherwise pleasant face.
”I think you can guess what happens now, Adel. I want you to walk through that portal. If you need help, my men will be more than happy to… assist you.”Adel's breathing began to come quicker as the gravity of the situation really hit him. He felt the dark, coiling dread from last night rear its head stronger than ever, and he leveled the same glare he'd had at Vincent on Cyrus, not even finding it in him to be angry at the ferryman. At this point, who wasn't in on this conspiracy? Was there anyone in this godforsaken city that was on his side?
A few faces came to mind. If he could get out of this...
Still braced against the wall, tense like a cornered animal, Adel took one long breath. In and out.
"Vaffanculo. Open."The room exploded into mild chaos. The drawers on Vincent's desk opened so forcefully that they were shot from their tracks, likely to slam into the man for what good it would do. The clamps on his mounted TV undid themselves, sending the flatscreen shattering to the ground. Bottles of wine or champagne on hand threw their corks, echoing like gunshots, and the windows in the office -not even designed to be opened at this high altitude- quivered in their frames until they broke themselves under Adel's command, sending cold swirling wind rushing into the space. Anything that could move, moved. The confusion of everything happening at once spurred Vincent's men into action, and they left their post to advance.
Behind them, the doors to the room slammed themselves open violently, giving Adel his first way out.
"Close!" he shouted next, cutting a hard look at Cyrus.
(
Proof 1 Proof 2 Adel: 9 Cyrus: 3)
The conjured portal sputtered and shrank until it collapsed completely. Then the compulsion to
close came over Cyrus himself as well, forcing the man's eyes shut.
Adel did the same to the boss of the Thorned Roses, turning his own wild brown eyes on the man.
"Close!"(
Proof 1 Proof 2 Adel: 5 Vincent: 3)
All to buy himself time. Whatever advantages he could give himself in this situation would help, no matter how small. The last obstacles of stage one were the bruisers, spaced apart so as not to let their boss'
guest get by them. If Adel could slip by, bolt from the office, he could make it to the emergency stairwell and lock it down. Figure out what to do when he got to the ground floor. Figure out what to do if he got outside.
He ran, barely ducking under the first goon's swipe. One left. His heart was thundering and his brain worked to choose his next word carefully as the last man came at him.
Open or close?
"Ope–"(
Proof 1 Proof 2 Adel: 1 Goon 1: 11)
(
Proof 1 Proof 2 Adel: 1 Goon 2: 5)
It was the last man that had picked up his gun, and he decided to go for it. Make him drop it and scoop the weapon up. He didn't get that far. Adel's voice stuttered as the man he thought he'd avoided took hold of his bicep and jerked him backward, and the mafioso in front of him finished closing the distance, slamming a palm against Adel's mouth, killing the use of gyft.
Adel struggled, a hand clawing at the one wrapped around his mouth as he fought to free himself from the grip on his arm. They spun him around, dragging him back in front of Vincent even as the wind roared through the room. One of them reached for a small holster within their jacket with a free hand, pulling out something that looked like a small pistol. Spun Adel again and pointed it point blank at his chest, and fired.
Adel would feel a scorching pain which quickly subsided to a dull throb. If he were to look down, he would find a small tag hanging off his chest, one corner lit up, and a small hook embedded in his flesh, likely as deep as just above the bone. To remove it would need to be done by a medical professional.
He would also notice that the familiar presence of his gyft would suddenly evaporate, here one moment and gone the next. His heart sank.
”A gyft negator.” Vincent said by way of explanation, his eyes slowly opening now that Adel’s gyft was disabled. He had a bit of discomfort coloring his face, likely from the center drawer that winded him moments before. Cyrus too, had his eyes open and was busy splashing the wall with a spare bottle of water.
”Scared, chiave di scheletro? (Skeleton key?) You should be.” Vincent said, offering Adel a pained smirk.
A light flashed as Cyrus' new portal took hold. Vincent jerked his chin at his men,
”Get him in.”And, in one smooth motion, the goons shoved Adel into the portal.
Adel: W +5 P +7
Dawn Rises Over Nocturnia
The Order's Church, Riverbend
Mentions: NA Interactions: The Order @ERode
It was an ominous day indeed.
Jack Reddington and Alex Ravilious stood on the roof of the Order's church, both with rather somber looks to their faces. Alex had a trenchcoat pulled closer around him, while Jack was busy puffing on a cigarette.
”Who you suppose we'll ‘meet’ today?” Alex asked Jack in passing.
Jack rolled his head a bit.
”Fuck… Bunch of disciples. Monster house. That behemoth nun.”Alex hummed a bit, staring down at the street below.
”You think they're expecting it?”Jack shrugged, grinning.
”Figure they are.”Alex grinned back a bit,
”Then we ought not to keep them waiting, eh?”Jack nodded.
”Yeah. Don't want to be poor hosts.”Alex pressed the comms in his ear.
”Team Charlie, Delta, move in.”And two black vehicles rolled up, one at the front of the church, one at the back. Men dressed in suits with obvious kevlar vests underneath, packing heavy Tommy guns, proceeded to kick down the front doors, and began to spray bullets into anything and everything that moved. The ones at the back merely held an eye on the door for any runaways.
Vincent: W -5 P -10
Order's Main Church, Lougham
Mentions: NA Interactions: The Order @ERode
It appeared quiet, almost too quiet, in the streets of Loungham. As the sun peeked in the sky, the war drums drolled on.
Black vehicles rolled up to the Order's church, and out stepped men in suits with rifles, kevlar under their clothes. One from among them stood out, easily identified as Cyril Hayes. He moved with his men to encircle the front of the church while another vehicle moved to watch the back.
Then, Cyril held up a hand, stopping the procession. Then, his finger pointed up, and a spark of black light filled the sky over the roof of the church. It grew into a bulging cloud, until it finally released a dark monster at least twenty feet tall with glowing eyes and claws.
It slammed onto the roof, roared, before tearing chunks of the roof out with its bare hands. It intended to demolish the building and anyone or anything in it. And it would do exactly that. It only needed a few minutes, after all.
Ezra: W -5 P -10
Below Vincent's Warehouses, Heavy Crossguard
In collaboration with @flux
Mentions: NA Interactions: The Eel and Akulas
The men sat eager, some tapping their feet, others enjoying a luxury meal, at least considered luxury to themselves. Most of note was a man picking at a bowl of tropical fruit, a rarity within Nocturnia, a big happy grin on his face with every bite. Grinch entered the barracks looking at the man with sticky hands diving back into the fruit bowl. “Blitzen, you could have asked for anything at all, and you just keep asking for that stuff. Don’t you get sick of it?”
Blitzen held the dumb happy grin. “Fresh fruit down here let alone in the city is a miracle. We should be grateful for anything that grows here. Sometimes it’s about the little things.”
Lucky piped up. “Besides, look at the size of the bastard. That kind of body takes a serious diet to maintain, you know?”
Grinch rolled his eyes before going to his gear while speaking to their guest. “Well good news Frankie, looks like we’re moving out today. Hope the boys were accommodating enough.” He pointed to the drink in Frankie’s hands. “And do us a favour and don’t do anything stupid on your send off yeah? We don’t need Blitzen escorting you out.”
Blitzen responded to the comment by looking Frankie in the eye and slowly crushing an orange in his hand, letting the juice leak out between his fingers with that same big, dumb, friendly grin on his face. “It’s good advice.” He then reached in to hand a slice of apple to Frankie. “Hungry?”
Frankie took the slice of apple numbly, visibly sick with the thought of his
head being the thing crushed in Blitzen's hand instead of an orange. He tried to shrug it off, instead glancing up at Grinch.
”It's actually been fairly comfortable. Almost made me forget my position.” He said, before glancing back at Blitzen, then back at Frosty.
”Run what you need me to do by me again? For uh… safety reasons.”Grinch nodded. “Smart man. If you hang a left at the entry you can follow the tunnels until you find a utility ladder. Just stay away from yellow shit. Industry isn’t exactly regulated well within the walls and that shit is more acidic than we can measure, and wear this, just precautionary.” He tossed a half face respirator down to Frankie that reeked of cheap plastic followed by jerking his head around. “Oh for gods sake. New kid! Did you raid my fucking stash?” His eyes shot about looking for Jeremy.
While Frankie was busy fixing the respiratory to his face, Jeremy poked his head over from a top bunk bed, his eyes a little red.
”It was only a little- how did you notice?!” Jeremy, of course, had raided Grinch's kush stash.
Grinch slammed the locker door. “Because that’s my premium shit! Dude! We’re about to head out and you're stoned?.”
Lucky looked around, lifting a syringe as he packed his medical gear. “Don’t worry chief, if he gets sluggish I’ll spike him full of adrenaline. Should wake him up real quick.”
Jeremy eyed the syringe,
”Maaan… getting stabbed by that would suck~.”Grinch didn’t even acknowledge Lucky. “We’re about to set off on a heist and your ripping clouds. Not a sense of preservation about you is there? Or do you just have the bright idea to balance it out by getting a little dusty?”
Lucky laughed. “He means cocaine. Use your words Grinch.”
Jeremy sat up in his cot, waving his hands in denial, a sheepish grin on his face.
”I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just saw it there and I just had to try some. Just a little. I feel fine~. Ready to pow-pow these losers. Just say the word, boss!”Frankie, meanwhile, was staring with a bit of slack jaw.
”Man you guys are real relaxed over here.”Grinch ran a hand down his face. “For fucks sake kid your making us look bad! God if I get back to Barman alive I’m kicking his teeth in making us take this guy on board.”
Lucky snuck up and jabbed Jeremy with a small injector. “Don’t worry boss, he’ll come down right quick if not a little rough.” Lucky gave Jeremy a shit eating grin. “Don’t worry, you’ll have everything you could dream of to celebrate with afterward if we live.”
Jeremy yelped in surprise a bit, before rubbing his arm.
”Aw man, you really had to do that- Oh.” And he gripped his head.
”Man, what the fuc-...”Blitzen finished the fruit bowl. “Guess we’re heading to the staging point?”
Grinch stored away the last of his gear on himself, throwing a container full of petrol out to splash over the barracks which was promptly snatched by Comet who began pouring it over everything. “Yeah, time to hit it.” He shooed his hands at Francis. “Go on get. Time to go home. We’ve both got to get back to work.”
Grinch led the group down the subterranean tunnels, Lucky bounding up to him from behind. “We’re really going for a heist. This’ll probably be the highlight of my career.” He slapped about himself ensuring all his medical equipment was where it should be. “Was it a good idea letting Francis go already? He’s going to raise the alarm the moment he finds some Rose’s.”
Grinch kept his gaze facing forward. “We’ll be in the thick of it by the time he has any hope of telling anyone. Won’t make a difference either way, will have plenty of guns staring us down all the same.” He looked to Lucky. “Headcount. Everyone ready and healthy for this?”
Lucky nodded pointing ahead. “Dancer, Comet, Blitzen are ready for war, chomping at the bit for a fight practically. Rudolph’s still struggling with breathing through his nose since after.” Lucky chuckled. “Well since, you know.”
Grinch snickered. “Yeah. Flattened from that door, is it still bright red, bleeding all over the place every now and again?” Lucky nodded again, Grinch shouted ahead. “Hey Rudolph! How’s the nose mate? Glowing bright enough to lead the way?” The man up front turned to around to shout ‘fuck off’ before marching on. Lucky and Grinch just giggled, Grinch sneering. “Yeah, bet it is, fucking idiot.” He looked Rudolph over a little more intently noticing a large case slung to him that he was hauling beside Comet who carried backpack clinking about as he walked.
Grinch called out again. “Say what’s in the box?”
Rudolph turned around with a filthy smirk. “It’s a surprise cap’n.”
Comet turned with eyes wild. “A real
big surprise. Don’t worry, you’ll like it boss.”
Grinch thought to inquire further but just waved his hand. His men were prepared, that’s what mattered. Lucky nudged Grinch. “And lastly we have the new guy, we’re calling him Snowman now, likes the uh.” Lucky pushed his finger against his helmet where the side of his nose would be and snorted violently. “Yeah, so we thought Snowman.”
Grinch nodded. “Apt. He clean for the mission?”
Lucky shrugged. “Debatable, but if he’s ploughing coke then it just means he’ll be extra twitchy for the fight, for a breacher that’s good right?”
Grinch tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, if he doesn’t shoot us, sure.” He afforded himself a glance to see the new man trudging behind dressed into Akula colours now. Focussing forward again he looked to his own feet. “Worst case we put him right up front, I guess. Seems compos enough though.”
Grinch called out again. “Alright this is it, topside lads. Let’s get this show ready to go.”
Setting up in an abandoned shop next to the warehouse, Grinch went over the plan with everyone. “Alright plans simple. Rob the warehouse. Intel suggests one Gyfted individual of note. Something along the lines of concrete and metal manipulation. You’ve all been issued forty mil launchers with plastic batons to shoot the bastard into submission if we make contact. Once suppressed or subdued, drop him. I don’t care if you kill ‘em or just knock ‘em out, so long as they’re put down quickly if we make contact.”
Grinch continued. “Main opposition seems to be a motorcycle gang that old mate Vinnie made his bitch. Expect unorthodox and improvised weaponry, traps, tactics, all that bullshit. Reinforcements will likely be Thorned Roses, so that’ll be a fun switch back to old fashioned gang buster strategy. Overall, we’re not here to rob the place blind, just as much as we can manage. The moment the momentum begins to turn, we exfil. When The Eel arrives, it’s go time.”
Grinch’s eyes betrayed a smile underneath his helmet. “This is a big one lads. Stay focussed, stay alive, most of all good luck and have fun. Weapons check, let’s go.”
Meanwhile, Frankie slammed into the warehouse door topside, huffing and heaving once inside the building, yanking the respiratory mask off his face. In one fluid motion, he took two steps to the fire alarm and yanked it. An ear-piercing screech sounded through the warehouse.
What the fuck, man?” Zeus Knoll said, stepping up, shotgun slung over his shoulder.
Frankie spat his words out,
”No time, Zeus, we got company!”Zeus whistled, shotgun landing in his hands as he racked it. He raised an arm to the rest of the warehouse, full of punks with guns who seemed to be itching for a fight.
”Eyes on the doors, fellas! Expect non-friendlies~!” Zeus said, running up the metal stairs to the second floor.
The layout was pretty basic. A loading bay and a ground level filled with crates and covered goodies. There were a few trailers with locks. A few offices pushed up against the wall. And on the second floor, metal grating providing a vantage point, and more offices.
Akira stuck his head out of one of the offices,
”Where the hell is Jackson?”Zeus fixed him a glare.
”Cold feet, loser? Just get ready!
Flint and the Akulas invade Elysium Heights
Vincent's men invades Corlet
Kairo: W +4.5 P +10
Matthias: W +4 P +13
Leon: W +4.5 P +10
Emily: W +7.5 P +15
