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Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 2, 2017 12:47:26 GMT
Reinhardt, a tiny island city to the West of Europe of tall skyscrapers and buildings, to the dark low towns. This island is commonly known to it's inhabitants as Sin City. Since 1994, it has been plagued by organised crime and corruption. Crooked cops, drugs rings and organised crime families are more than common. Two major crimelords rule the place, the Russian Mafia, the Kovac Family and The triads, The Emerald Serpent. They share a healthy rivalry with one another for territory, but respect each other's territory, mostly in fear of an all out gang war breaking out. The last few honest law enforcers of Reinhardt struggle to keep criminals behind bars. It also known for a strange phenomena. 2% of the population started to develop superpowers. Some could harness energy and control it, others could read minds. Nobody could explain what caused this and researchers are still looking into all of this, some say that it's a genetic code in very specific people while others say it was radiation when the nuclear power plant of the island malfunctioned. One thing is for sure, power manifestation caused a trend...
Vigilantes began to appear from the shadows, fighting back crime. Costumed Do-Gooders wanting to give justice to the innocent civilians and make them feel safe again. They used their powers to help the enforcers of the law keep criminals where they belong; in a prison cell. Some got sick of them always getting out and back to what they were doing again... So they thought that there is only one way to stop them for good... Burying them six feet underground. These vigilantes were dubbed as outlaws, hunted by gangsters and the law alike because although their method is effective, it makes them no better than the bad guys.
Some people look up to the vigilantes, others find that they make things worse... One thing is for sure, they're a part of Sin City.
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Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 2, 2017 23:07:26 GMT
In a dark alleys of lowtown, a grisly scene has taken place. What was supposed to be a deal for the Kovac's drug trafficking turned into a vicious slaughter orchestrated by a hooded woman. Even with four men, two armed, against this interceptor, they never stood a chance. She showed strength that was beyond human limitation, which only got more powerful as the fear filled the thugs. It was over within minutes. Two of them unconscious and crippled, multiple broken bones and no doubt they will suffer lifetime injuries. Another met his end in a brutal fashion, his face was crushed when she slammed it relentlessly and repeatedly into the hard wall of one of the buildings, the brickwork began to crack and break from the stress of the execution. Only one is alive, his face is swollen and is hysterical from the fear and agony he is in. The woman lifts him a few feet from the ground and slams his body against the wall, he cries pathetically at her mercy.
"Please don't kill me. I-I don't wanna die..." He begs between sobs. He knows exactly who has control over whether he lives or dies right now. Zone, one of the more feared outlaws in the lowtown of Sin City. She built a terrible Reputation for putting criminals in the hospital or in a coffin, and she is very much leaning towards the latter right now. "Tell me who is supplying you." She says in a deadpan voice, which is more than enough to scare the thug even further. She feels her body grow in power from it, her muscles become tighter and adrenaline courses through her veins. The most sinister change is her eyes, which begin to darken to an almost pitch blackness. "I-I don't know! I'm only sell the stuff! M-my supplier will know! He works the warehouse district on a strict schedule! H-here!" He fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a cellphone, his shaky hands drop it to the ground. Zone doesn't even watch it fall, eyes fixed on the thug.
After a few seconds, she drops him back down to his feet but not letting go of his collar. "P-please... I'm tell you the truth!" He says in a hysterical voice. Zone lets one of her hands release his collar and tilts her head for a moment. "I believe you." in a flash, she throws her fist into his chest. The height of her strength impales through his heart and kills him instantly. His face frozen in shocked horror as his corpse falls to his knees, then to the ground as Zone pulls her fist back out of the hole in his torso.
She picks up the phone and walks out of the alley. She feels a sharp pain in her side, where a thug managed to clip her with a knife. She keeps her mind off of it and heads to the Rolling Thunder. Her shift will begin soon and after that, she can get to work on the phone.
----
She arrives five minutes before her shift begins, entering through the backdoor. "You were gone for awhile." a voice calls out when she removes her jacket, about to change into a fresh shirt, Margaret enters the room. She is a middle aged woman with a plump build. Age is starting to show through the faint wrinkles on her face and grey strands of hair, yet she still dresses like she did when she was Cleo's age, motorcycle jacket, worn out jeans and biker boots. She was a member of a Motorcycle Club that did many shady jobs on the side, but now retired from that life and brought the Rolling Thunder, an underground motorcycle bar and business as been good. She met Cleo when she took her into the bar after she suffered two brutal stab wounds in the stomach and bleeding out, she fought some members of the Kovac recklessly and it didn't end well for her... As Margaret patched her up and stopped the bleeding, Cleo didn't utter a single curse word or complaint. In fact, she actually apologised for getting blood on the elder lady's floor. Margaret didn't ask what happened, she just patched her up and let her rest. Margaret learnt that sometimes it's best never to know what led to events like this. Cleo stuck around the bar for a few days and helped out in anyway she could. She didn't utter many words, but rather showed her gratitude in actions. Soon, Margaret offered her a job, a room and a good meal. The two developed a mother and daughter bond, even only a few words are shared between them most days.
"Sorry ma'am. Things took longer than expected." Cleo replies, changed into her uniform now. "I told you darling, call me Margaret." The elderly woman tells her, Cleo always called her ma'am, no matter how many times she protests about it. "And you should get that patched up." She says, pointing her head to her still bleeding side. Cleo looks down at it and sighs. The adrenaline still coursing through her made her forget... She nods her thanks and heads into the bathroom is clean it up and get it patched. Margaret noticed the wound, her bruised knuckles and disheveled look on her face. She knew about her crusade against the Kovacs and the danger it brought along. She worried about Cleo but she knew whatever she said, it wouldn't change the girl's mind. She's as stubborn as a mule...
Five minutes later, Cleo has bandaged her wound and wears fingerless gloves to hide her knuckles. She steps behind the bar and begins her shift. She keeps her mind focused on work and forgets about the fight earlier. She doesn't dwell on her actions much, it only distracts her from work and Margaret always expected her to be focused when the bar is busy, which it is tonight. Cleo, never wanting to disappoint her boss and guardian, gets to work serving customers.
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 0:02:04 GMT
Detective Reynolds sat at his desk with his feet on the table a cup of coffee (irish) in one hand. Some powered shit had whacked a bunch of Kovac shits and both the Lt and the Kovacs themselves were on his back to get down there and solve it but not until his new partner turned up. Some shiny git straight from the academy way he'd heard it but he'd learn boy would he learn. If he didn't give the Kovacs someone to shoot they'd shoot him, mentally he began running through his list of shits whose deaths would leave the world a better place. No-nose Ned would be a good fit he was small-time drug dealer but ambitious and had a tendency to beat hookers. Now Reynolds just needed to come up with a plausible way the guy could have got powered muscle...
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Post by Alexodia on Mar 3, 2017 1:43:21 GMT
"That...was fucking amazing." she felt his presence before she even heard the robust compliment, the jovial, male voice carrying throughout the entire locker room despite the only inhabitants being the two of them. A self-deprecating smile adorning her face as she looked up from where she sat on the bench, her eyes took in the portly, middle-aged man bearing down upon her with an enthusiastic smile. Teddy had been the director of the circuit for as long as she'd been here, and even though she'd never seen him fight, anyone with eyes could tell that his portliness belied an impressive physique; the dude could probably lift a car over his head and give you brain damage with a single punch. He never took part in the fighting, though; kept claiming he was too old for a gig like that, despite the common conception that he could easily destroy most everyone that came through there. Her self-deprecating smile still adorning her features as she looked up at his grinning face, his eyes alight with enthusiasm, she cocked an eyebrow slightly.
"He was telegraphing his moves." she deflected, her RP lilt clashing heavily with Teddy's thick Brooklyn accent as she moved her eyes back down to the lacing of her boots. "Wasn't hard."
"You say that every fucking time you fight."
"Because every single fucking time..." she countered, raising her head back up with her eyebrow cocked once more, her expression set into a mixture between stoic and teasing. "...it's true.". Wincing slightly as Teddy burst out laughing, she let out a single uncomfortable chuckle of her own as she resumed tying her laces. Everything Teddy did was loud; he walked loud, he talked loud; even when he was being completely fucking silent, you could always spot him out of the corner of your eye, that mischievous twinkle in his like he was twenty years younger. Shaking his head in mirth, Teddy stepped over and planted his backside next to her, watching with a keen eye as she started tying up her other boot.
"You know, I say it every time." He began, pointedly ignoring her as she rolled her eyes extremely conspicuously. "If you were to fight more people, you'd earn a fucking fortune. What you earn now ain't small beans; not by a long shot. You keep going, and you could be rich. You could be a star; hell, you already are! Do you have any fuckin' idea how much I've been paid by these punks for a chance to fight you? I mean, they're starting to come from around the globe! Important people as well, not just the fucking scumbags from the streets! Important people sending their best. And every single time, you wipe the fuckin' floor with them."
"Maybe in the future, they should take the hint instead of lining up to get their arse kicked in front of hundreds of people." she grumbled irritably, ignoring the exasperated groans from Teddy next to her. This happened almost every time; she worked Admin for him because he trusted her, but every now and then he'd wear her down enough to fight in the circuit, almost deafening her with hundreds of people arriving at a clandestine underground fighting circuit to watch her kick the shit out of some arrogant fuckstick every single goddamn time. And then he'd collect his money and give her the share she was entitled to, but only after far too much bitching and moaning than she was comfortable with.
"Janey, you've already made a name for yourself; everyone in the criminal underworld knows who you fuckin' are in some respect or another. Even the goddamn higher-ups, Janey; remember when Red Bear tried to hire you to kill some whore that'd slighted her? That was fuckin' insane amounts of money; I thought I was gonna fuckin' faint!"
"Ah yes, I remember her offering for me to be her glorified bloodhound." she recalled out loud, not afraid to let disdain cloud her voice, tightening her laces and standing up to her full height, opening her partially-opened locker all the way and reaching in to grab her black leather jacket. "You'll forgive me, of course, if I didn't want to play fetch with that fucking hog of a woman.". Teddy rolled his eyes so hard she thought they might roll back into his head, quieting down for a second as she heard the baying cries and yells of the people crowded closely around the ring echoing into the locker room, no doubt watching some other poor fucker get beaten to a pulp by another poor fucker. Standing up to his full height alongside her, the top of his head barely came to her chin as he looked up at her, an almost paternal exasperation gleaming in his eyes and staring back at her own unimpressed gaze.
"Look, just think about it once more, huh?" He offered as he reached into his pocket, pulling out countless bills of cash and starting to count them individually.
"I'll think about it they way I've thought about it every other time, how's that?" she offered dryly, her sarcastic tone slicing through the air as she punctuated it with a raised eyebrow, watching Teddy roll his eyes once more but remain silent as he continued to count the bills, knowing her answer was, like always, sealed. "I don't need fame and reverence in the criminal underworld, Teddy. Barely any of them know what I look like or even who I am aside from the fact that I fight, and I fight fucking well. That's good enough for me, okay? As fucking crazy as it sounds, I kind of like doing the papers and sorting the money. It's...peaceful. Solitary."
"Yeah, well, a girl with your talents shouldn't be gunning for peaceful. You should be gunning for bloody and brutal. Because as fucking brilliant as you are with the papers, Janey, in there? Beating the shit out of everyone who comes your way like you were born to do it? That's where you belong." Teddy finished, a small smile on his face as he finished counting the bills and handed them up to her, watching as her hand smoothly lifted the bills from his hand and stashed them in the pocket of her leather jacket. "There you go." He began again as she plucked her phone from the locker and shut it with a clang. "One thousand, all in twenties for the first round, like always. You'll get the rest of it when you come into work tomorrow; you'll probably need me to carry some of it to your fuckin' place." He joked wryly, at last eliciting a deep chuckle from her as she smiled somewhat slyly. "You know, Hugo still wonders why you always ask for it in twenties up front at first, and get the rest of it in hundreds, like the rest." He piped up, raising an eyebrow of his own as her sly grin perked up slightly. She shrugged half-heartedly.
"I like a drink, afterwards." She admitted casually, before clapping Teddy on the shoulder once and heading past him towards the exit, aware of his eyes on the back of her.
"Oh, uh, I forgot to tell you!" Teddy shouted out suddenly, his memory hitting him as she had just gone out of the door. "Rue Leibniz is closed; construction, or some shit. You'll have to go around."
"What?!" she asked incredulously, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Going around takes another twenty-five minutes, and it's eleven at night!"
Now it was Teddy's turn to shrug, his casual action belying his cautious expression. "I'm sorry, Janey, but that's the fastest way around. Plus, you'll be able to handle yourself." he acknowledged, smiling a confident smile as he headed off in the other direction back towards the offices, leaving her there in the doorway of the locker room on her way to the exit, a dumbfounded look on her face.
---
Still grumbling as she walked the streets almost twenty minutes later, her mind was occupied about the dreams she was going to have tonight about moulding the very concept of construction into a human form and beating the crap out of them for making her do this; it was fucking freezing, and she still had ten minutes left to go, and she was only barely aware of where she was going. Stopping in the street briefly to run her hands over her face in exasperation, her attention was caught by the otherwise whistling silence of the wind being replaced by very quiet, muffled music from across the street. Turning her head to look, she sighed in frustration; it was that fucking biker bar that she'd heard about. Not much, but apparently the place had great service, she mused, her expression becoming slightly contemplative. She was fucking freezing, and it would take her ten minutes to walk home anyway. Plus, she wanted a drink still; her usual bar was now inaccessible due to motherfucking construction. Her eyes casting over the bikes parked outside and feeling the cold air sliding over her fingers that had started to imperceptibly shiver, she shrugged. Why the fuck not?
Turning her body and striding across the road towards the bar, she kept her guard up as she continued to stroll over towards the establishment that was getting progressively louder; biker bars were just like regular bars, in a sense; served everyone that was of age, and provided a place for camaraderie and haven. But it did mean that they could be a bit wary of non-bikers from time to time, but in her experience, as long as she elected not to cause trouble, she'd be fine. Reaching the threshold, she breathed once deeply before pressing her hand forward on the door and opening it, allowing her entrance into the establishment as she crossed the threshold currently booming with hard rock music typical of a bikers bar, the smell of tobacco and alcohol very clearly present as well as the usual noise from the patrons that accompanied a biker bar; the place looked relatively full, even for this time of night.
Feeling an assortment of eyes on her as she walked steadily towards the bar, intimidating and with purpose, she considered making a sardonic statement about her right to be there due to the fact that she too was wearing a black leather jacket, albeit less...biker-y, but she thought better of it. Ignoring the eyes on her and the slightly reduced volume of conversation from the patrons, she calmly walked up to the bar and sat herself down on the far left side of the counter, her attention being caught by some engravings made by what appeared to be a knife on the long, polished mahogany.
"Whiskey; neat, please." she spoke up politely, yet absentmindedly towards the amorphous blob out of the corner of her eye situated behind the middle of the bar that she assumed to be the bartender, not being able to see much past that due to her attention being diverted by the patterns. "None of the cheap crap, if you don't mind."
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jackygirl
Red Card
My milkshakes bring all the girls to my dungeon
Posts: 704
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Post by jackygirl on Mar 3, 2017 2:38:13 GMT
A young handsome biker sat at a crowded table drinking with his buddies. At first glance he seemed same as always and his brothers in the club hadn't noticed anything different, although they weren't looking very hard and were very drunk. He seemed normal his attitude and mannerisms were the same he drank the same and laughed the same but whenever someone asked him a question about some specific event or story he waved them off with some vague "How could I forget brother. Another round!" His name was Samuel and he was 6"3 with a fairly muscly build and normally anyone who called him a 5"8 pretty girl would get their face kicked in but today that was what he was.
Abigail had met Samuel a week earlier in one of her many stripper guises. It was amazing what secrets drunks spilled in the presence of strippers it was like they barely saw them. As it turned out Samuel had been running coke without informing his bosses in the club and the money he'd made was kept along with the drugs in a safe-house guarded by a friend with orders to only open for Samuel. Earlier today Abigail had left Samuel tied up naked in the toilet of his favourite brothel and wearing his face and clothes had retrieved the money and drugs from the safe-house. She'd emptied the drugs into the sewer, let the alligators get high or whatever, and added the cash to her personal stash. The best part was Samuel couldn't report the events to his brothers both out of embarrassment and because they'd find out he was running drugs without them.
Still disguised as Samuel she'd decided to rub salt in the wound and spend his money wearing his face to get drunk with his brothers. All of a sudden she spotted a blonde at the bar in a leather jacket who was just her type. She said goodbye to her "brothers" with a wink and a nod at the girl to a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. Sliding onto the stool next to the lady and hoping it wasn't someone good old Sammy already knew she said. "I don't think I've seen you before. I'm sure I'd remember. Buy you a drink?" She gave her (well technically Sam's) most charming smile, if she was just another biker skank this'd be easy but she didn't look it so maybe there'd actually be a challenge...
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Post by Deaths on Mar 3, 2017 3:23:44 GMT
The central room is full of its usual chaos as Jack moves seamlessly through it. He was used to the craziness, and had grown fond of it, today though his regular routine is thrown off instead of heading to homicide he has to report to his new partner in the gang division. He had heard the rumors of detective Reynolds, scum like him are why this city is so bad, criminals will always exist, but the police should never tolerate this and allow the cancer to grow. "Innocent until proven guilty." He thinks to himself as he approaches his new partner. "Detective Reynolds?" He ask knowing the answer already, he keeps his voice monotone and calm. "I'm Detective Jack Gallagher, Jack is fine." He extends his hand for a handshake as he shuts off all of his sense and studies him with his eyes.
"His hands are covered in marks, he fights with his fist a lot. Teeth are slightly stained, either he doesn't brush or he's a smoker." He observes, switching off his eyes and turning on his sense of smell. "Smoker, drinking coffee as well. Alcohol is mixed in." He returns himself to his normal state and speaks. "I was already briefed on the situation involving the killing not long ago. I am ready to go to the scene of the crime if you are. Can you drive? Drinking on the duty is against procedures, are you capable to drive?" He ask rather bluntly but his voice still level and calm he stares into his new partners eyes.
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 3:43:37 GMT
Reynolds look his new partner up and down. "Jesus they told me you were a fucking robot but I thought they were exaggerating!" Ignoring the handshake Reynolds stands up and swigs the last of his coffee. "I've been sitting on my ass since the fucking call came in we need to get on this before heads start rolling cause mine." He jabs himself with his thumb. "Is going to be top of the fucking list. Now I don't give a shit how well you did in the fucking academy or the shiny homicide lot you're with gang division now you play by my rules and you might live to see next month." He slams the cup down on his desk. "And for your information I know for a fact the Lt has twice as many cups of irish as me a day it's the only way to cope in this shithole so yeah I'm driving." He pulls on his jacket and strides towards the door leading to the cold Sin City evening.
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Post by Deaths on Mar 3, 2017 4:13:19 GMT
The car ride is quiet and the stench of cigarettes fills the car, Jack turns his eyes to full blast just to get away from the smell, and since his partner isn't talkative in a meaningful way he enjoys the silence. The crime scene is a war zone poor guys never stood a chance as Jack walks past the uniforms he begins looking for clues. "One person did all this." He states sure of himself, as he looks over the bodies. "The killer was wounded," he states standing over a few blood drops next to the man who got his heart ripped out. "The blood drops didn't come from any of the victims, stab wound most likely since there are no guns around. Know any powereds with super strength and a high pain tolerance?" He ask while squatting on the ground, near the heartless victim. "The killer also picked something up here, something small this victim probably had something they wanted." He stands up and walks over to the body that had there face utterly destroyed. "Lastly the killer has a hatred for the Kovac family, this brutality stems from a personal hatred." He begins walking down the alleyway still looking at the ground. "Luckily they left a trail, we can follow that and see where it leads. So I'll ask again. Super strength, high pain tolerance and a hatred for the Kovacs sound like anyone you know?" He ask hoping his partner would have an answer. "You're experience here is invaluable, you must have a few names that come to mind." He says trying to encourage his partner as he begins to follow the trail of blood.
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 4:28:20 GMT
Reynolds sighs oh this is going to be tiring. "Jesus you like to do things the round-about-way." Walking over to a nearby doorway he pulls out a homeless man and roughly pushes him against the wall. "Hello Sidney how's life treating you?" The man shivers and scratched his arm. "N-n-not bad D-d-detective Reynolds." Reynolds grins. "You wanna earn a quick tenner Sidney? Maybe get something for that itch?" He nods at Sidney's arm. "Sure thing D-d-detective!" Sidney replies hopefully. "Now you saw what happened to these Kovac boys didn't you Sidney?" Reynolds nods encouragingly. "S-sure did!" Replies Sidney. "And I bet you didn't get a good look at the killer's face did you Sidney." Reynolds shakes his head. "That's right s-sir too blurry!" Reynolds grins wider. "But I'm sure you heard them say who they worked for." Sidney proceeds to repeat the words Reynolds mouths. "N-O N-O-S-E N-E-D. Yup No-Nose Ned that's who!" Reynolds hands him a tenner then slaps him on the back. "Good work Sidney now get out of here before I clean up the blood with your face." Sidney scampers off. "See shiny-boy why bother about the instrument when we've got the fucking musician let's slap the cuffs on Ned and let some other shits deal with his super-powered muscle." Of course Reynolds intends to see to it that some Kovacs lads just "happen" to end up sharing Ned's cell, he wouldn't last an hour. One less shit on the streets and the Kovacs off his back a fucking win-win.
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Post by Deaths on Mar 3, 2017 5:02:14 GMT
As the homeless man is dragged out and questioned Jack focuses on his sight and looks at a small reflection on one of the bloodstains, using his power he can see Reynolds mouth the answer he wanted to give the poor Sydney to give. After a moment he returns to normal, he pulls off his glasses and wipes them down as his partner blatantly lies to his face. "He isn't a very good liar." He pauses as he puts his glasses back on. "You are, but I'm better." He says calmly as he follows the blood trail. "The killer is on foot, and wounded they couldn't have gotten far. Any good hangouts around here?" He walks down the street uncaring if he is followed by his partner, he follows the trail across multiple alleys until he wanders near a bar surrounded by motorcycles. He stands across the street once his partner catches up he smiles a tiny smile, "Our killer is in here." He states boldly and confidently.
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 5:27:18 GMT
"For fucks sake!" Groaned Reynolds before grabbing Jack and slamming against the alley-wall by his jacket. "Listen to me you little shit I can think of a few people who might have been responsible for this fucking blood-bath but one who has that kind of grudge? It's Zone I'd bet my left-nut on it she's strong as fuck and one of the scariest fucking Outlaws who let me tell you aren't a bunch of fucking schoolgirls to start with. I wouldn't take her on with anything less then a full fucking SWAT unit and you are proposing to walk into a BIKER bar asking after her. In case you don't know bikers don't like us, or pretty much anyone except other bikers, but especially fucking cops! So yeah sure we could go in their and die or we could go and find No-Nose Ned a piece of shit so depraved just being the same species makes me want to fucking vomit and bang him up while him and his goons are too high to find their own fucking heads! I know what I'd choose." Reynolds stared into Jack's weirdly focused eyes. What he said was mostly true but he also didn't particularly want Zone caught; as far as he was concerned the Outlaws provided a public service cleaning shit off the streets and they were pretty much the only ones with the balls to go after the Kovacs and other big gangs head-on.
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Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 3, 2017 6:01:47 GMT
Cleo watches a blonde haired woman she never recognised before enter the bar and sat on the left side of the counter. There's something familiar about her... but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. She calls out for a whiskey, no cheap stuff. Cleo knows what to grab her, she turns to the wall where many bottles of spirits are lined up on the four shelves and grabs one from the center of the third one; ten year old whiskey that Margaret has a crate of in the back from her gang smuggling days. Stuff is rare as hell, been said to have a perfect taste and isn't cheap at all. She picks up a glass and pours a fair amount of the liquor into it. Placing the bottle carefully back on the shelf, she brings the glass over to her client and sits it in front of her. "9.56" are the only words Cleo says to the woman.
She then turns her eyes Samuel who is obviously trying to flirt with the woman. Cleo raises a questioning eyebrow at him. He acts like Samuel, talks like Samuel, hell, he is Samuel... But something about him tonight feels very off, like she is looking at somebody wearing his face. She shakes the thought off and resolves that with all the excitement she faced today, she is overanalysing and feeling things that are not there. Speaking of that, her adrenaline finally wore off and feeling the full pain of her side. She has to be carefully not to stretch too hard incase she reopens it, but some strong painkillers would do her some good right now. She makes a mental note to take some once she finds herself in the back room.
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Post by Deaths on Mar 3, 2017 7:28:04 GMT
"This No nose man, is he as bad as you say he is? If so fine we'll bring him in. Only if you make a deal with me." He looks at Reynolds had still gripped on his jacket signalling to let him go. "I want to know what this Zone person took from the heartless man. Just so you know, I'm not entirely against the killing of the worst scum there is. I don't even mind all the vigilantes, but if Zone has something we can use to strike an even bigger blow against the Kovac family I want it." He states plainly like always, looking back at the bar he studies everything he can. "So I'll give you two options, we either go in now and try to take Zone in for questioning, or we let No nose take the fall, but we still try to get our hands on whatever Zone took." He starts to head back towards the crime scene. "You have any street clothes? I have a spare set in my bag. We are going to stick out, but the suits will make it even more obvious." He continues talking with a slight mocking tone in his voice. "Up to you, I mean I should be following your lead right?"
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Post by Hunter on Mar 3, 2017 11:01:44 GMT
"Please ! No, s-stop ! Ple-e-e-ase" A man is crawling in a back alley, trying to save his life from the state of the 3 others next to him there are few chances that he will made it, not with his wounded leg. The first one dropped like a stone: A "clean" shot in the head 2 buckshots in the torso for number 2, he was already dead before he touched the ground, the last one was not that lucky as he took one one the belly and will surely die in a pool of blood. The remaining one look at the woman who train her weapon on him. "Who... WHO ARE YOU ? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ?" No response from her, instead she close the distance between them and put her boot on his wound; The guy howls in pain before being hit on the back, he turn his head as best as he can but only meet the gun's barrel on his temple. It's the last thing he feel before the shot goes off and spread gore on the ground.
--- Shade quickly dress in her spare clothes, she is already late and Cleo will not miss an occasion to remind her. She finally enters the staff room when Margaret make her appearence. "Late again Tomo ?" She was smirking, Tomo was not the perfect employee, bot at all. In fact Margaret only took her in because she was tired to see the girl drinking all day long while she distraced the waitress and getting involved in fights, at least she was good at breaking them and so she made her part of the bouncers; Not that it change anything, she keep drinking at the same spot as usual and kick troublemakers out of the bar. "Sorry boss, I had some urgent matters to deal with" It was not technically a lie after all. These guys were on her list since a few days. She excused herself from her employer and entered the main lobby, she waved at the people on her way, it was full as usual but for now she have to check if everything is good on her partner's side. "'Sup Cleo, the usual please, anything was good on your end ?"
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Post by Envy on Mar 3, 2017 13:04:06 GMT
Grabbing a cig from his jacket pocket and a lighter Alistair brings the cig and lighter towards his mouth and lights up. Taking a puff makes him look around the room “How did I end here again?” then again I was invited here seems like I was misleaded. Stepping over the numerous bodies on the ground Alistair walks out the butcher shop, shit I swear these green garden snakes are an annoyance. The sound of Rain echoes around Alistair great it's fucking raining running towards the nearest bar he puts his cig out and back into his jacket. Opening the door he spots a group of bikers one flirting with a girl at the bar, next there the bartender she seems like someone I could gaslight then there’s others that could make me a quick buck. Yet for now I’m only for a shot of gin on the rocks walking down towards the bar he pulls out a bar stool. Sitting down on the old oak stool Alistair mentions over towards the bartender “A shot of gin on the rocks if you could.” His voice calls out towards her. Hmmm that biker doesn’t seem like they’ve really belong here this might be interesting if I watch them for awhile.
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 14:35:39 GMT
Reynolds stared at Jack for a second before letting go of his jacket. "They know my face in there I've had... dealings with some in the past." He sighed. "Alright kid, if it's the only way to get you to listen to fucking reason. I'll go in now looking like I just came-off work you come in once you're in your civvies they won't know you yet. I'll do some subtle questioing and be there if things go south which knowing my fucking luck they will." Reynolds shook his head. "Just try not to get killed on your first fucking day that's a lot paperwork for me." He looseened his tie a lot and undid the top two buttons on his shirt before entering. Sitting at the opposite end of the bar from some biker and his (probably) skank he waved to the bartender. "Scotch on the rocks. Is Maggie in?"
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Sin City.
Mar 3, 2017 14:55:00 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 3, 2017 14:55:00 GMT
Once Cleo got pay from the whiskey, she makes her way to Tomo. "You should be working by the door." She says as she pours her usual, a hard whiskey on the rocks. She is used to reminding Tomo that she should really be working rather than drinking, so is Margaret. But, she throws out the rowdy when the time calls for it and that's technically doing her job. Her and Tomo have been friends for a long while. The two met when they both decided to ambush a meeting between the Kovac and Emerald Serpent. Unfortunately, the two mistakened one another for a member of one of the gangs and fought pretty viciously. They eventually got worn out and learnt that neither of them are affiliated with either gang. A week later they met again, this time they worked together and made a pretty effective team. They've been inseparable since, Cleo helps Tomo sort out the trouble she gets herself into and Tomo in return, keep Cleo from 'becoming a total robot' as she puts it. Still, Cleo enjoys her company. "I got something. Could be a dead-end but doesn't hurt to check it out, tell you more after shift end." She says in a lower voice and serves another customer.
It is then Cleo sees him enter the bar. John Reynolds. A known crooked cop who is unsure where his loyalties truly lie. The Kovac's and Serpent's pay him off to cover things up, but sometimes he gets rid of a few criminals for good. At least that's what Margaret says about him, Cleo could care less what he does as long as he keeps his business away from the bar, which is why she is curious as well as suspicious on why he's here... He names his poison and begins a little small talk. "She's in the back." Cleo says in a straight forward answer as she pours him his drink.
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Post by Alexodia on Mar 3, 2017 20:26:33 GMT
Her attention diverted by somebody unceremoniously taking a seat next to her far closer than she would have liked, she purposefully kept her gaze on the markings on the bar counter, acting as if she didn't hear him at first. Mostly because she was wondering if he didn't have anyone else to talk to; she was used to being approached in bars almost every single goddamn time she walked into one, but it didn't hurt to hold out hope every now and then. Of course it hurt when those hopes were dashed against the fucking rocks, but still. Listening to the guy's words and just being able to picture the charm on his face cranked up to eleven, she also saw movement out of the corner of her eye in the form of the bartender bringing her drink over, setting the glass on the counter and requesting her payment; a cute girl barely over her twenties and looking like she'd just nicked her arm or something. Cocking her eyebrow and righting her posture, she reached casually into her jacket pocket and took out a single bill, gracefully handing it over to the bartender without a word and picking up her drink as she walked away.
Wondering about the relative cheapness of the drink, she raised the drink to her nose with a casual, practiced elegance as she inhaled once, deeply and softly, blinking once after she'd done and taking a single drink. As she suspected; not brilliant in the grand scheme of things, but not bad at all. Gulping the alcohol down and feeling the warm buzz in her chest as the burning liquid made its way down her throat, she turned her head to look at the biker sat next to her, cocking her eyebrow once more as she analysed him; the guy was young and good-looking, but he also seemed the type to be arrogant as fuck. Kind of guy that charmed his way into a different trollop's bed every night. Or every other night, god forbid he didn't allow the women of the world to fall for his charms. The kid probably didn't handle rejection well, either way. He didn't seem the type to. It didn't take somebody as good as her to see that this kid was a child, a boy. And she didn't fuck boys, much less when she was in as irritated a mood as tonight.
"Not nearly drunk enough, dude." she spoke up after a few seconds of wholly unimpressed appraisal, turning her gaze back forward towards the back of the bar, taking another drink and starting to gently run her right index finger along the smooth mahogany counter of the bar, drawing patterns with her finger.
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jackygirl
Red Card
My milkshakes bring all the girls to my dungeon
Posts: 704
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Post by jackygirl on Mar 3, 2017 20:42:16 GMT
Hmmmmmmm definitely not a skank then looked like she might have to try a different kind of charm to the one the real Samuel would probably employ. "Normally I'd offer to help you get drunk enough but I'm guessing that in your case that'll involve me getting a swift punch to the face." Abigail chuckled. "Allow me to start over, name's Samuel and seriously I haven't seen you around before. Normally we just get regulars and the occasional..." She looked down the bar to Reynolds. "Unwelcome guest... fucking pigs." The last part wasn't out of character for Samuel but it was also genuine Abigail had heard about Reynolds from some old friends, when a pimp beat his hooker so hard she popped off the mortal coil it was Reynolds and cops like him they called to clean it up. Abigail was no great justice fighter but even so dirty pigs like that were probably why her mother's death was labelled a "suicide". "So I'm curious why you'd decide to come in here tonight you clearly aren't the normal kind of girl we get here and yes that is a compliment." He said with a wink
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Post by Alexodia on Mar 3, 2017 21:06:34 GMT
"I'm sure it is a compliment." she responded causally, drawling the words as she took another drink and turning her head once more to look at the one whom called himself Samuel, one who'd apparently taken it upon himself in order to attempt to pick her up in a bar. His words had earned her raising her eyebrows once or twice, but he still remained far more ineffective than he apparently believed himself to be; the easy smile on his face screamed confidence that he would break down her walls and utilise his boyish charm to win her as a prize. It wasn't actually the blatant objectification that she was all that bothered about; more that he was more and more painting himself as a boy who handled rejection even worse than she'd thought.
"I see the concept of respect is lost on you." she remarked dryly, resuming her staring forwards and tipping the last of the whiskey down her throat, feeling the burn travel down her gullet as she gently placed the empty glass on the counter and turned her body slightly towards Samuel, planting her elbow sideways across the counter and leaning on it slightly as she cocked her eyebrow in unimpressed amusement. "How do you ever expect to convince a lady that you're a catch if you're spouting off insults like that with such vehemence, hmm?"
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jackygirl
Red Card
My milkshakes bring all the girls to my dungeon
Posts: 704
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Post by jackygirl on Mar 3, 2017 21:14:49 GMT
Abigail raised Samuel's eyebrow. "A catch? What is this Victorian-England? I'm just drinking at a bar with an attractive woman maybe something will happen maybe nothing will happen that's the fun of bars!" She was going more then a little off script (she doubted Samuel would have ever even heard of the Victorians) but she was starting to enjoy this. "And while I'm sure you've been reading me I've been reading you and I can't say you seem like the kind of person who'd have much respect for a dirty cop."
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 21:20:37 GMT
Reynolds notices the wound Cleo's arm and adrenaline mixed with fear floods his system but he plays it cool he'd need to be sure and even when he was he really didn't want to tip her off. "Well I can wait I just wanted to have a little chat about the fight that took place not too far away. You hear about it? Some powered punk took out a bunch of Kovac's boys. I was wondering if this place was okay, see me and Maggie go back aways and I'd hate it if something were to happen to her." He made it sound ever so slightly like a threat to gauge her reaction. "You haven't heard anything... suspicious have you?"
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Post by Alexodia on Mar 3, 2017 21:34:47 GMT
"That's what YOU find fun about bars." she countered, cocking her eyebrow and continuing to appraise his character, noting his casual stance and undivided attention on her; it was all very cliche, but she had no doubt that the girls he took home night after night ate it up. Her apartment was still waiting for her, and assuming it hadn't already been burgled in the time she'd been gone, she had no intentions of bringing home a frat boy with whom she may have an inebriated sexual encounter. "I'm sure it isn't nearly as fun when you don't run the risk of being approached by boys like you whom apparently cannot even grasp the concept of a girl wanting to enjoy a solitary drink." she added nonchalantly, casting her head over to the bartender and hoping to catch her eye when she turned back around after talking to the police officer further down in order to request another drink. She didn't plan to get drunk tonight; just relatively buzzed, and then she'd head home. Or maybe she'd head home sober after all if frat boy continued to pile on the sickeningly sweet charm that had never really done it for her.
Some of his subsequent words did catch her interest, however. "Oh?" she inquired, her voice a blend between amused and curious as she cocked her head to the side slightly, still regarding the biker sat next to her. "You seem rather convinced of his corruptness; that's not displaying a great deal of faith, is it?" she remarked sardonically, distantly pondering what the cop in question had done to earn such disgust from somebody apparently so committed to remaining charming. She didn't head out much, other than working both her day and night jobs; both ensured that she saw her fair share of scumbags, but she didn't recall sighting the cop before, and ugly feeling turning in her stomach as she recalled the prominent thought that forgetting that she'd seen the cop before didn't really mean much, at all. She could have seen him a month ago for all she knew, she'd have forgotten at least recently; just like she'd forget the charming face in front of her soon whether she went home with him or not. But still, his insistence was interesting; interesting enough to warrant an inquiry. It wasn't ass if she was reluctant to talk about it, after all; she wasn't begging to remain the focus of frat boy's charms for a great deal of time.
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Sin City.
Mar 3, 2017 21:41:21 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 3, 2017 21:41:21 GMT
Cleo has been serving customers and cleaning glasses as Reynolds speaks, disinterested with what he has to say but keeps listening. She senses his Fear as it empowers her body once again, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she subconsciously absorbs the pheromones. She only looks at him when he makes a subtle threat towards Margaret, cold dead eyes staring into his. She doesn't appreciate threats made against the people she cares for. He's asking a lot about the crime scene she caused not too long ago. Hm, the police reacted faster than she guessed, or Reynolds was tipped off by another source.
Cleo cocks her head slightly to one side as she cleans a glass, eyes never leaving his. "I don't know anything." She says simply, just at the moment Margaret comes out to check on Cleo and Tomo and how they're handling the large crowd tonight, mostly to check on Tomo. Then she sees Reynolds talking to Cleo, probably questioning the small girl. "Reynolds." She says heavily as she walked over. "What do I owe the pleasure?" before he could answer, Cleo speaks up first. "Asking some questions about a case he's working on... Too many questions." her eyes never leaving him. This was one of the qualities she had that unnerved a lot of people, she could stare anybody down. Eyes watching them very closely, like a coiled viper setting their sights on prey.
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jackygirl
Red Card
My milkshakes bring all the girls to my dungeon
Posts: 704
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Post by jackygirl on Mar 3, 2017 22:00:10 GMT
This particular lady seemed immune to Samuel's charms which Abigail had used sucessfully a couple of times already that week, once at gay bar she really hoped his brothers heard about that one. Oh well she was still a lot more interesting then Samuel's brothers seeing as her conversation didn't entirely consist of a dick-measuring contest. "Faith?! What city do you live in?! The cops are as bad as anyone else they've just got official backing! Reynolds over there is about as dirty as you can get, he's covered up enough stiffs to fill a battlefield and would ignore his own family getting raped if you paid him enough. Fuck it I ain't exactly always rode on the right side of the law but I've got standards!" Which is to say Abigail had standards, Samuel had sold coke cut with washing up powder to kids.
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Post by Alexodia on Mar 3, 2017 22:25:29 GMT
"And what standards are these?" she countered immediately, her raised eyebrow flattening out into a stoic expression as she cocked her head slightly to the side once more, noting frat boy's steadily increasing temper at her words; that didn't take much. A voice in the back of her mind spoke up, asking her to stop pressing the issue, but she brushed it aside, her faculties now rallied once more. "Hmm? Have you forgotten what happened to the family of the man that couldn't pay your little gang his money because he was busy using it to provide for them? Those standards? You may not have seen me before, but that does not mean that I do not know what goes on. And I don't much appreciate you lumping me in with the rest of the fucking slatterns that you and your...entourage seem to frequent. You know, the ones whom apparently fall for the drivel tumbling out of your mouth." she bit back, her expression still casual and calm as her words turned more and more caustic. She would have liked to say that this had been fun while it had lasted, but it wasn't. Not at all. Frat boy was starting to irritate her now, and if this continued then she would either have to leave or make him leave. She really didn't want to do the latter based on the inevitable aftermath of her actions, but she was marshalling herself all the same.
"They're a funny thing, standards; aren't they?" she asked rhetorically, her eyes narrowing. "They're almost the epitome of arrogance. When you say that you have standards, what you're really saying is that the whole entire world and everything everyone in it does, has to conform to what I believe is right. Because clearly, I'm the one that matters the most, and all of you should take note because I don't care about your reasons." she spat out, her composure cracking ever so slightly, not enough for anybody not watching to notice, but enough for whomever was watching to notice clearly. "I'm not condoning whatever it was that he did; not by a long shot. But I don't much appreciate the very stunning combination of hypocrisy and staggeringly ineffective charm you've chosen to exercise here today. Now, I'm going to say this once, pretty boy; get up..." she finished scathingly, sending him a last dark look before she turned herself back to face the back of the bar, facing forwards and keeping her gaze fixed on the bartender, hoping she turned around soon so she could ask for another drink before she started to get upset. "...and go away."
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 22:25:40 GMT
Reynolds felt the sweat stick his shirt to his back as he looked into her eyes. If he hadn't been sure before he was now. Where the fuck was shiny-boy?! "Nothing to worry about Maggie just a bloodbath between some Kovac boys and someone really strong, I mean powered strong, don't suppose you'd know anything about that?" He'd known Maggie when he was growing up didn't talk to her as often as he should but he had a bit of a soft-spot for the old gal.
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Sin City.
Mar 3, 2017 22:45:37 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 3, 2017 22:45:37 GMT
Margaret did know somebody powered strong, and she's standing right next to the girl. She knew Cleo was getting herself into trouble tonight, but it sounds like she stirred up quite a commotion if the detectives are reacting this quickly. Margaret wasn't going to throw any of her girls under a bus until the day she's dead in the ground. "Can't say I have, and you know better than to ask questions around here regarding a case, Reynolds. It makes people jumpy." She explains to him, nodding her head to a few of the patrons already glancing over to see what is going on.
This man is probably the most cowardly Cleo has ever met. She can already feel herself at a high point in her powers just from his Fear alone. She doesn't see him as a threat, it's almost like he doesn't want to be here himself, so why doesn't he leave? She stares at him for a few seconds more before diverting her eyes somewhere else. She sets her eyes on Samuel and the woman, it seems she's getting very irritable from Sam's constant hounding of her. She had enough of his antics for one night. She makes a subtle gesture to Tomo to be ready to throw somebody out on their ass and walks over to the two. "Sam. Take a hint and take a walk on this one. You're beginning to harass the girl and I don't appreciate that. One. Bit." She makes the words stern to show her she isn't playing around. "Head back over to your boys or head home, Tomo will gladly make the choice for you if you're having trouble deciding again." Sam has always been troublesome to women, sexual harassment should be written on his forehead and her and Tomo have been forced to throw him out on multiple occasions so he can chill out his heat.
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Post by projectekertest33 on Mar 3, 2017 23:03:39 GMT
Reynolds kissed his teeth. "Sorry Maggie but the fucking brass and the fucking Kovacs are on my ass with this one I was just hoping you might know something. Fuck it, it was a bit of a long-shot there was just some circumstantial evidence pointing this way. I'll have another scotch and keep my mouth shut, booze always helps me think." He says avoiding looking at the person he was know almost certain was the Zone but his inner cop couldn't resist that one last little push. "By the way what happened to the girl's arm." He gestures at Cleo. "Rowdy customer was it?"
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Sin City.
Mar 3, 2017 23:14:30 GMT
via mobile
Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 3, 2017 23:14:30 GMT
"Beats me. Why don't you ask her yourself?" Margaret says as she pours him a scotch. She is technically telling the truth, she doesn't know what happened to her arm but she has a good idea how it happened. But she is sure he will drop it after she that, Cleo seems to have scared the living crap out of him just by looking at him.
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