Post by Relic on Jul 12, 2012 11:18:27 GMT -8
Robbie Mireno's contact tipped him off to a small, waterfront drinking establishment known as "Bernie's" bar, on the outskirts of the SF wharf where sketchy characters gathered and shady dealings were sometimes known to take place. Robbie sat towards the far back corner at a small round table, his face down-turned and seemingly buried in the "Jobs" section of the local paper; but behind a pair of dark shades Robbie's eyes actively surveyed the scene.
From his vantage point, a scattered handful of broken patrons drowned their life sorrows away, a few of them sitting at bar stools telling their sad tale to the bartender or trying to strike conversation to the two busy young waitresses with perma-scowls on their disinterested faces. But one particular booth where five men were huddled in quiet conversation held Robbie's main interest.
At this booth and table - according to Mireno's source - sat an assemblage of figureheads representing both his former gang, the Triad, and a mysterious, new group rising up and making waves based across the shores somewhere in the East Bay. Apparently it was a meet-and-greet between representatives from both gangs in order to establish and define boundaries and set limits to activities as civilly as possible, as this new rival's tag "O3C" was beginning to encroach on Triad turf and operations.
At the table between two thick, bodyguard-looking types, sat lean & lanky Daequan "Deeky" Jones Jr., a cool cat with a perpetual smile displaying golden grillz framing his pearly whites. Deeky, an educated young man who lost faith in "the System", did much of the negotiations for Triad, both with rivals and not uncommonly corrupt authorities.
Deeky's main focus and interests lay in the welfare of Triad's financial operations, not so much the gang's personnel or recruitment; chances of him remembering someone like Robbie, who was more an expendable bruiser and never an upper-hierarchy member of Triad during his stint, were slim to none. Deeky's current pair of bruisers, or the two men sitting across the table from them, Robbie did not recognize.
All seemed okay at first, as the men seemed civil with one another, ordered appetizers and drinks and spoke not quiet in whisper, but neither loud enough to be understood from where Robbie sat. Deek was a smooth talker and one to diffuse confrontation whenever possible, and at times there was even laughter and the clinking of bottles between the men. For a time, Robbie began to consider why his contact had even been on alert about this meeting. "I've a hunch something bad might be going down" he was informed; but if anything it appeared rival gangs had reached some compromise and were simply toasting future collaborations.
But as time continued to pass, the tone of the talks slowly shifted, with Deeky getting louder, seemingly more defensive and exclaiming things like, "Now you know we just can't do that," or "He's being completely unreasonable", and "Doesn't have to be this way."
Finally Deek shook his head and exclaimed defiantly, "NO! Seriously? No. We won't, that's… that's not gonna happen." The two men facing him looked at one another then one sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, you feel that way Mr. Jones," he said as he carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin then stood up, followed by his larger partner who said next to nothing the whole time. "Our Boss will need to make an example of you now."
Deeky's flanking enforcers instantly drew heat, aiming their matte black handguns at the two standing figures, who slowly raised their open hands submissively.
Suddenly, from behind a swinging door where the waitresses had been tirelessly entering and exiting, and just behind where Robbie sat, he heard, "HEY! Yo buddy! You can't be in he..." followed by the crashing of a pots and pans. Then from the rear swing door emerged a large, imposing figure which brushed past Robbie's table in the direction of the booth of men.
Robbie estimated the man to be at least a few inches taller than he while standing, and easily 20-30 lbs more muscular. The guns of Deeky's henchmen quickly turned to face the figure sauntering slowly towards them who wore a black leather trench coat which covered dark armor or a costume of some sort. Robbie only caught a glimpse of the figure's face when he walked by but saw that the man wore a Batman-ish cowl to conceal his face, only without the pointy ears; instead, a long, heavy golden pony tail emerged from the rear-center of his skull and cascaded down to the midpoint of his back.
"Good, goood," the masked-man said with a hoarse voice and still walking towards Deek, his now-standing bodyguards aiming their pistols, and the two instigators who smiled and confidently lowered their hands and slowly made for the front door. "I'd hoped you guys would want to do this the hard way," the man said, cracking his knuckles.
"Boss will want evidence the message was... relayed," said one of the two men over his shoulder as they exited. "Take his grillz when you're done."
"With pleasure," replied the large, mysterious figure.
Deeky's two toughs glanced at each other for a second, then let loose a volley of gun fire at the man while the waitresses screamed and other, previously oblivious patrons dove for cover.
Multiple gunshots ricocheted harmlessly off the figure, barely impeding his forward movement towards the panicked trio. Then with a swift and mighty kick to the chest, the masked man sent one of Deeky's bodyguards flying like a rag doll, crashing through the large front glass window of Bernie's and onto the sidewalk beyond.
ooc: okay Ty, a slight change of getting tagged by a randomly reflected stray bullet... give me an Agility FEAT (the d100, or 'white' dice in the icon menu above) at +2CS and just don't roll a white result
otherwise, it's declarations and initiative time!
From his vantage point, a scattered handful of broken patrons drowned their life sorrows away, a few of them sitting at bar stools telling their sad tale to the bartender or trying to strike conversation to the two busy young waitresses with perma-scowls on their disinterested faces. But one particular booth where five men were huddled in quiet conversation held Robbie's main interest.
At this booth and table - according to Mireno's source - sat an assemblage of figureheads representing both his former gang, the Triad, and a mysterious, new group rising up and making waves based across the shores somewhere in the East Bay. Apparently it was a meet-and-greet between representatives from both gangs in order to establish and define boundaries and set limits to activities as civilly as possible, as this new rival's tag "O3C" was beginning to encroach on Triad turf and operations.
At the table between two thick, bodyguard-looking types, sat lean & lanky Daequan "Deeky" Jones Jr., a cool cat with a perpetual smile displaying golden grillz framing his pearly whites. Deeky, an educated young man who lost faith in "the System", did much of the negotiations for Triad, both with rivals and not uncommonly corrupt authorities.
Deeky's main focus and interests lay in the welfare of Triad's financial operations, not so much the gang's personnel or recruitment; chances of him remembering someone like Robbie, who was more an expendable bruiser and never an upper-hierarchy member of Triad during his stint, were slim to none. Deeky's current pair of bruisers, or the two men sitting across the table from them, Robbie did not recognize.
All seemed okay at first, as the men seemed civil with one another, ordered appetizers and drinks and spoke not quiet in whisper, but neither loud enough to be understood from where Robbie sat. Deek was a smooth talker and one to diffuse confrontation whenever possible, and at times there was even laughter and the clinking of bottles between the men. For a time, Robbie began to consider why his contact had even been on alert about this meeting. "I've a hunch something bad might be going down" he was informed; but if anything it appeared rival gangs had reached some compromise and were simply toasting future collaborations.
But as time continued to pass, the tone of the talks slowly shifted, with Deeky getting louder, seemingly more defensive and exclaiming things like, "Now you know we just can't do that," or "He's being completely unreasonable", and "Doesn't have to be this way."
Finally Deek shook his head and exclaimed defiantly, "NO! Seriously? No. We won't, that's… that's not gonna happen." The two men facing him looked at one another then one sighed loudly. "I'm sorry, you feel that way Mr. Jones," he said as he carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin then stood up, followed by his larger partner who said next to nothing the whole time. "Our Boss will need to make an example of you now."
Deeky's flanking enforcers instantly drew heat, aiming their matte black handguns at the two standing figures, who slowly raised their open hands submissively.
Suddenly, from behind a swinging door where the waitresses had been tirelessly entering and exiting, and just behind where Robbie sat, he heard, "HEY! Yo buddy! You can't be in he..." followed by the crashing of a pots and pans. Then from the rear swing door emerged a large, imposing figure which brushed past Robbie's table in the direction of the booth of men.
Robbie estimated the man to be at least a few inches taller than he while standing, and easily 20-30 lbs more muscular. The guns of Deeky's henchmen quickly turned to face the figure sauntering slowly towards them who wore a black leather trench coat which covered dark armor or a costume of some sort. Robbie only caught a glimpse of the figure's face when he walked by but saw that the man wore a Batman-ish cowl to conceal his face, only without the pointy ears; instead, a long, heavy golden pony tail emerged from the rear-center of his skull and cascaded down to the midpoint of his back.
"Good, goood," the masked-man said with a hoarse voice and still walking towards Deek, his now-standing bodyguards aiming their pistols, and the two instigators who smiled and confidently lowered their hands and slowly made for the front door. "I'd hoped you guys would want to do this the hard way," the man said, cracking his knuckles.
"Boss will want evidence the message was... relayed," said one of the two men over his shoulder as they exited. "Take his grillz when you're done."
"With pleasure," replied the large, mysterious figure.
Deeky's two toughs glanced at each other for a second, then let loose a volley of gun fire at the man while the waitresses screamed and other, previously oblivious patrons dove for cover.
Multiple gunshots ricocheted harmlessly off the figure, barely impeding his forward movement towards the panicked trio. Then with a swift and mighty kick to the chest, the masked man sent one of Deeky's bodyguards flying like a rag doll, crashing through the large front glass window of Bernie's and onto the sidewalk beyond.
ooc: okay Ty, a slight change of getting tagged by a randomly reflected stray bullet... give me an Agility FEAT (the d100, or 'white' dice in the icon menu above) at +2CS and just don't roll a white result
otherwise, it's declarations and initiative time!
