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Old 02-07-2012, 03:38 PM   #1
Chaos
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Default RP Epic: War of the New World

Chapter I: Citadel


Today, the future would open before him. That's what Sumon told himself as he paced through the old center of the city. The massive concrete buildings that made up the center reflected the sunlight that shone down on them, as if repelling even the powers of nature. A display fitting to the Citadel. Sumon had always admired the buildings and streets of the Citadel territory, so unchanged through the winds of time, withstanding even the fall of humanity. He had stood on the wall overlooking the Curse's territory, miles of scarred infrastructure and half-burned buildings. He had not been impressed. Weak rulers rule weak territories. You can keep your miserable warzone, Curse, as long as you stay away from our streets. The only people on the streets today were stern-faced soldiers, part of the Citadel's proud militia, the perfectly organized remnants of an army that had ruled the world before the fall of humanity. The absence of other Citadel officials seemed right to Sumon. This day is mine. Today I take my first step towards real power. After this meeting, no one will be able to deny the rising star that is Sumon. One of the soldiers grunted a greeting in passing. Sumon didn't even notice. His mind was focused now, focused on the meeting he had worked so hard for, on the prestige he would gain because of it.

The white door in the wall opened before him, admitting Sumon inside and also allowing him to see the face of the old man who'd let him in. Sumon formally greeted the man and shook his hand, then continued on. I've spent enough attention and money on that old piece of shit, I paid him well for this meeting, I don't owe him anything more. He then moved into a great hallway. Two soldiers came for his weapons, he gave them off without saying a word and walked on. The hallway led to a huge, spacious room with blue tapestries covering exactly the right positions on the white marble. Two long hard-wood desks were set in the middle of the room, with chairs on one side, so that the occupants of the places directly faced each other. Two balconies had been carved out of the walls of the room, places where any Citadel official with interest could sit down and watch their colleagues negotiate. They had been put there to make all meetings open to all public, to show that the Citadel had nothing to hide from their own people. In reality it simply meant that most important meetings were held in backrooms. Sumon had considered this himself, but he'd decided that he wanted as much people to be present as possible to witness his first step to power.

His plan seemed out to have worked. As he went to sit behind one of the tables, the Citadel territory behind his back (made quite clear by the gigantic blue star on the wall behind him), Sumon spied around twenty other Citadel officials taking place on the balconies, several of them quite a few ranks higher than him. Third commissioner of the Law Elroy was the most important person who'd turned up, which was lower than he had hoped for, but higher than he had feared for. It seems the plans he'd drawn up had at least gathered some interest. And why wouldn't they? Fasten the bonds with one of the most powerful factions in the city and gain more territory at the same time? What the hell can go wrong? Sumon managed a smile when looking Elroy in the eyes. The man smiled back at him, that half-mocking, half-sincere smile only a seasoned official would give you. Whatever, there will be no denying my rightful respect once this meeting is over. Sumon took his eyes off the spectators and looked to the other side of the room, where a Silver bullet hung on the wall behind the still empty table that was facing his.

The entire room was silent when the door opposite to Sumon opened. It was strictly forbidden for the attending officials and the guarding soldiers to speak during the negotiations. In rooms like these, the two parties who came to discuss discussed their business and the rest was there to sit and watch. Objections could only be made afterward, while the meeting was going on, the floor was for the people participating in the actual discussion. This was in the interest of fairness and giving credit to the correct people, another great farce. Most mighty officials sent others to do their bargaining, claiming the credit afterward if the meeting had gone right and keeping awfully silent if the wished for result was not achieved. Today was however not such a day, and everyone knew this. This would be a genuine offer from an independent Citadel official to the Steel, the official not backed or briefed by any higher power.

Through the opening door appeared a man. Sumon's first impression of his was that this was a hard guy. His face betrayed absolutely no emotion and he had the feigned casual walk Sumon had seen before in the greatest harbingers of the city. The Snake had walked the same way in the last grand-scale Citadel/Viper meeting and so had the bounty hunters who occasionally came to visit Citadel officials, presenting the bodies of their targets. It looked like the person was easily strolling down the street, but they were actually tense to the bone, aware of every single thing around them and ready to react to any kind of trouble within a split second. His eyes were dark brown, his features clearly not accustomed to showing any kind of compassion. He dressed in snug-fitting black gear, designed for practicality over decoration. A sniper rifle was slung over his shoulder, the long barrel easily clearing his back. The man shove back his chair and sat down. His eyes bored into Sumon's, reading him, scanning him. He sat in silence, staring Sumon down, his eyes never once glancing away.


Last edited by Chaos; 02-08-2012 at 05:27 AM.
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Old 02-08-2012, 03:59 AM   #2
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A Steel agent. Looking exactly as their reputation would make them seem. Cold, hard, analytical. This is it, boy, this is what you worked for. Sumon's heart skipped a beat when he looked in the war-hardened eyes of the Steel man. Right, let's get this over with. “Welcome to the Citadel, sir, my name is Sumon, Citadel official in City Management.” The man simply nodded. Wait what? “I have requested this meeting on the behalf of both our organizations.” Just a stare now. “Would you care to introduce yourself, sir, so I know whom I'm addressing?” Sumon could see the corners of Third Commissioner of the Law Elroy's mouth twitch, as if suppressing a smile. The man who sat at the other table was clearly not amused. “My name doesn't really matter, Sumon. Am I wrong if I say this is the first meeting you've ever had with the Steel?” The man did not wait for Sumon to answer but continued. “I can see you looking at my rifle. You did not expect to see a weapon in this room. First lesson in reality for you today, kid. People might be reluctant to try take weapons from other people depending on the reputation of the person in question and the consequences of trying to overreach.”

This is not going according to plan! Sumon had drilled the exact schedule of the meeting in his head. 1. Get to know the opposing party and get on a comfortable discussion-level with them. 2. Unfold plans and let the other watch and listen in awe. 3. Dismiss any questions that might throw a negative light on the plan carefully but firmly. 4. Celebrate victory. This was not like that. This was not like that at all. “So now kid, what do you have for me. You were here for something of mutual interest, you just said. Speak, it's the only thing most Citadel brats are good for anyway.” The man fell silent as abruptly as he had started speaking. Sumon's breathing had stopped for a while. “Well, eh...” What the fuck? Okay, stay calm man, the plans are still intact.

Sumon issued a death glare at the man in front of him. You go on the intimidation tour, two can play that game. The Steel agent looked almost amused. He's forcing me to play all my cards at the same time. Sumon gritted his teeth. It's not like I have a choice. “The Citadel and the Steel share some common enemies, sir. As you probably know, the Curse is currently preoccupied in an internal war, taking a bit of heat from both our organizations.” Again only those cold, mocking eyes staring back at him. “Which is why I called this meeting, to propose the bonding of forces for the invasion of Asylum territory.” For a split second, Sumon thought he could see surprise on his counterpart's face. Got him.

“The Asylum is a splintered faction, without structure or grand scheduling. In a time like this, where both of our factions have power to spare, it would be very easy to take a sizeable chunk out of the madmen territory, securing it for our own. I offer you expansion of territory for the mere prize of cleaning out some crazy nests with us. No greater retaliation will be offered, the Asylum does not play their game like that. As long as we do not try to take half their ground, it should be safe enough. Minimal losses, maximum gain. A nice addition to both our territorial grounds should easily be gained and secured before the Curse manages to settle their internal problems and we are forced to reassign the men acting in this operation.” He was gaining momentum. This meeting is going the right way. “I will show you a map and operations table of what I am talking about.” Sumon stood up and turned around, a smile on his face now. He just needed to visualize the operation now, show this 'hard guy' the specs and details of the mission now and he would be in the clear. There would be no denying him.

A mocking voice stopped Sumon in mid-stride. “Kid, before you get all excited, let me cool your jets and ask a few questions.” He turned, as if in slow-motion. His heart started beating even faster and he could feel sweat forming on the palms of his hands. Damn, this guy knows how to break someone's roll. “Ask away, sir, I will provide answers to my best knowledge. You must understand that the operational details will be refined after the Steel consents with my proposal.” The Steel man looked up at him, almost looking amused. “Not to worry, official Sumon, my questions will be of the general nature.” He put three fingers in the air. “Three questions. First one, why do you assume the Steel needs the help of the likes of you to overtake, as you said, barely inhabited territory that's ruled like a wolf pack?” Fuck. “Together we're stronger, sir there's no den-” The man cut off Sumon mid-sentence. “Secondly, why do you assume the Steel needs any more territory? There's a reason that we have always chosen to remain in the two city parts we control. These two pieces of ground allow us maximum security in all regards, they have been tailored to our every need through the years.”

Sumon stammered something weak, he himself did not even know what he was trying to say at that moment. One thought ruled above all others. I have underestimated the Steel. He tried to keep composed and have an easy stance, but it was clear that he failed, even to himself. The devil opposite to him looked him straight in the eyes. “Which brings me to my last question, kid. Why the fuck do you bother me with shit like this while you clearly have no idea how my 'organization' operates? And on grounds of you not being able to answer any of these three questions with a satisfactory answer, I reject your proposal and close this negotiation.” The man stood up, turned around and exited the room, leaving Sumon to the mocking stares of the officials on the balconies, looking down on him. No way. A few claps sounded through the marble hall, courtesy of the most sarcastic faces on the balconies.

Sumon turned around. His arms and legs had grown heavy, but they were nothing compared to his head, which felt like it could burst any moment. Every step towards the door that would bring him out of the room was a torture. When he stepped through, he entered a dream-like state. His body carried him away from the wall, from the soldiers who handed him back his weapons, but his mind did not register any of this. His mind was focused on one single thing once again, only this time, it was the heavy mental beating of failure of a project he'd worked months on. Wiped off the table before he could even start to explain. Back in his apartment, Sumon fell down on the bed. Oblivious to his surroundings, the world gradually grew black around him.

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Old 02-14-2012, 06:43 PM   #3
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Chapter II: Bounty Hunter

Shin's eyes shot around. Something wasn't right about this place. The streets were empty, yet the predator had the feeling he was being watched. He had the distinct feeling that eyes were upon him that very second, and Shin Yagami, renowned and experienced bounty hunter had learned to trust his feelings on this matter. A head bag was slung over his shoulder, the severed head of his quarry bouncing up and down with his steps within the bag. The head was his ticket to payment for a job well done, and needless to say an important and valuable object. Why does this always happen on the way to collection?

Of course Shin knew the answer to this question, yet he kept repeating the question to himself every time that feeling arose and he was walking around with a bagged bounty. The truth was of course, that the head was the proof of murder with which anyone could collect the bounty on the corresponding body. Thieves often looked to steal them. A nasty piece of business it might be, the price more than made up for it for most of the low-life scum prowling around in the unaffiliated slums of Central. Somehow the train of thought didn't seem right to the bounty hunter, though he couldn't quite put his finger on the fault in this standard scenario. Just a feeling. I'd better watch it.

Shin picked up the pace, hoping to make it past the watched place without direct confrontation. He was fairly confident about his ability to dispose of most people in this area, but it would cost energy, place him in a risky situation again and most importantly, he might miss his appointment with the issuer of the bounty. Nevertheless, the uneasy feeling stayed. They're stalking me. This is not a random group, these ones set out to intercept me. Shin sighed. His time schedule was fucked up now. He would have to end the confrontation with these men quickly and then immediately move on toward the Tusk, where Gaja was waiting for him. Shin broke into a sprint and put his right hand on the hilt of his katana. The speed forces them to show themselves or get lost in a chase. They should arrive to the scene in about 3... 2... 1...

"Oi, Yagami, stop it right there." A voice rang out from behind Shin, who whirled in reaction and pulled free his katana. A man had stepped out of the shadows of an alley, an automatic weapon trained on the bounty hunter's head. The man wore only greys and was kind of hard to see in front of the concrete walls this city part was composed off. The man had a fierce mustache that curled up at the ends. Small, narrow eyes bored into Shin's and the man's lips looked like they had been smashed flat, giving him a sour expression. Fuck. George the Old Fuck is on my tail? That means... Shin whirled around again and indeed saw the faces of the other three Gart family members watching him, all with weapons raised his way. Terrol Gart was to the left behind him, Cronos Grant on the right behind him and Symian Gart walked into view on the moment he turned back to face the Old Fuck. How did they know I was going now? How did they know my route?

"What do you want from me?" In response, George the Old Fuck grimaced like George the Old Fuck always did, that nasty fake-amused smile that showcased the old man's missing teeth. "That bag over your shoulder contains a head of a family member, Yagami. You know the rules. There's no hunting affiliated men." A voice behind Shin, which he immediately identified as belonging to Terrol Gart, by some called the Young Fuck, called out. "Explain yourself, Yagami, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Really? These men know exactly what my answer will be. He ignored the crazed screamer behind him and instead focused on the old man. "He was a deserter Elephant, George, as you damn well know. A quick integration into your 'family' doesn't make him untouchable".

"He was one of ours, Yagami" The Old Fuck growled. "The price on his head was out before you ever met the man, George." The bounty hunter replied. "You touched the family, Yagami. One does not without dire consequences. We have a death count for you." Of course. It's all about the money in the end. Shin tensed. "Let's hear it." George's smile widened, fully exposing the horrible crooked yellow teeth in his mouth. Beside them, the gaping black holes in his set of teeth were almost comforting to watch. "We want fifteen thousand. This guy was a valuable asset to the family. Good hunter, good fighter. Cash or kill, Yagami, what will it be?" George the Old Fuck's one remaining ragged eyebrow raised.

Four men, all mediocre fighters except for the Old Fuck, whose age has put him on a lower level. All four armed with ranged weapons, putting me at a disadvantage in the gear department. Guns are trained on me already, they're all around me. Way to buy them off is fifteen thousand and a severe dent in my reputation. This head is not even worth that price, I'll come out five thousand on the short side. Let's see... Gaja was expecting me at fourteen ten, most of them wait for about half an hour. Shin checked the watch on his wrist. Fourteen ten. About twenty more minutes to the Tusk. He broke into a sprint towards the Old Fuck, who hooted and started firing his gun. Ten minutes to dispose of these shits.


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Old 02-14-2012, 06:43 PM   #4
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Shin dove in a roll to the right, dodging a hail of bullets that burst out from the Old Fuck's automatic weapon and putting him right in line with Symian, who fired his handgun wildly at the bounty hunter's head. Shin dove into another roll, avoiding the slugs meant for his head and coming out of his roll about two meters in front of his target, a trail of bullets from the Old Fuck always just a second behind him. Enraged screams and running footsteps told him that Cronos and Terrol couldn't fire at him without sending a spray of lead into their own 'brother'. Encircling is a good technique, but not if you put your people on the same line with your opponent, idiots. He propelled himself into a jump towards Symian, smashing his katana through the youth's weapon first and then chopped the head in half vertically. Surprised to see a sword cut through a solid revolver, aren't ya, George? Shin's momentum carried him over the dying man. He hooked his arm around the corpse's neck in coming down, pulling it down behind him as a shield. Bullets sailed into the meat shield with splatting sounds but did not penetrate.

With a smile, Shin pivoted with the body on his back. He saw the look of horror on the face of the Old Fuck when his katana elongated, its point tearing into the building on the opposite side of the street, right through George's body. The blade retracted as fast as it had elongated, returning to the manageable size of a normal katana. The Old Fuck dropped dramatically to his knees, his eyes staring unbelieving at the fountain of blood his chest had turned into. Shin rolled into the alley where Symian had come from and watched with satisfaction how George coughed up blood, the same blood that was easily flowing past the hands the Old Fuck tried to stem the flow from his chest with. The old man fell face-down into the dirt. A roar of rage sounded and Terrol rounded the corner, walking right into Shin's katana and impaling himself. The bounty hunter pushed back Terrol's wrist of his gun-holding hand, keeping the barrel safely aimed at the air. Indeed, a shot sounded and a bullet tore into the sky. He tore the gun from Terrol's hand and kicked the impaled man backwards, off of his blade. Terrol stepped backward, fell down over Symian's body and lay still, his eyes still staring in disbelief.

Shin charged right out into the street, unloading the entire clip of Terrol's gun in the general direction of Cronos, who dove behind an old trash can to avoid being hit. He jumped over the Old Fuck's body and pushed his legs against the wall to propel himself in the right direction, slinging Terrol's gun in at Cronos's hiding place. The scrape of steel on stone sounded harshly, followed by the unusual sound of a three-meter katana tearing through a steel trashcan and a fleshy body behind it. Cronos fell to the ground behind the split trashcan, a torrent of red fluid splashing on the ground beneath him. Shin retracted his blade and watched his carnage for a few seconds. It's so easy to erase human life.

The fight had taken less than thirty seconds. The sounds would be unlikely to arouse any suspicion, the bounty hunter knew. Gunshots and dying men were commonplace in Central, not in the least in the lawless area that did not belong to any of the greater gangs. He gave the scene another look. The four disfigured corpses on the ground were all soaked with blood now. He watched Cronos cough out the last of his lifeblood and fall silent as the last of the once prominent Gart family to close his eyes to the darkness. They were hunting, they shouldn't have any valuables with them. I must not forget to loot their HQ later. For now however, I have a meeting to attend to. He collected the head bag, which had been lying in Cronos' blood pool. The wet fabric sent a few steady lines of blood red drips down to the ground. Just awesome, now I'm walking around with a wet bag full of head.

The Tusk came closer fast as Shin checked the time. Fourteen twenty-five, arrival even earlier than expected. The Tusk was one of the bigger bars of Central, a great domed monstrosity ruled with an iron fist by a former bounty hunter, Jason Cale. Cale's hired thugs were heavy around the Tusk, simply killing anyone who was stupid enough to start a fight in the bar. The game has gotten harder, but it's the only way to survive. The bounty hunter strode past one of Cale's little private army, as could be seen by the large fabric C fastened on his jacket. The man nodded at him, the bounty hunters were greatly respected by the bigger part of Central's underworld. As they should be. Working together, we could challenge a big gang and survive.

He continued on and swung open the door to the Tusk when he felt a hand close on his shoulder. “You're late, hunter.” Shin looked over his shoulder to the man who was talking to him. The man wore black leather fingerless gloves, a heavy leather jacket over a black shirt with two crossed arms on it. The arms on the shirt were taped in, as for a competitive martial art and they were set in a red circle. Gaja's mark. “He almost wanted to leave already. I'm afraid he does not like to be kept waiting and thus he sent us all outside to look for you. If we hadn't found you in thirty seconds now we'd be back on the plains.” The man laughed. “But you made it, I guess. Come on then, there's money waiting for you.” The man turned around and started walking. Shin followed, never taking his hand from the hilt of his katana. Long years in this profession had taught him never to trust his employers. Because the service of bounty hunters was pricey, at least one in four people who hired one would try to kill the hunter when it was clear the wanted service had been performed.

No shenanigans happened however and Shin was led to the parking lot of the Tusk, where two more Elephants were sitting comfortably on their vehicles, the mighty motorcycles used by the biker gang. “Boss, I found ya the hunter.” One of the Elephants, a young man with a leather jacket streaked with red and with the two crossed arms on a patch on his heart turned around. He wore easy-fitting clothes underneath the jacket. His hair was trimmed short, same as the stubble on his face. Intelligent brown eyes found Shin's. “Well bring him over then and let's see what he's got for us.” Gaja pulled a stack of paper money out of his jacket as the bounty hunter approached. “You're late.” “Fifteen minutes on a job well done, Gaja.” Shin reached for the banknotes, but Gaja pulled them back. “The head first.” He sighed and pulled the head bag over his shoulder, spilling the contents on the ground before him.


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Old 03-14-2012, 08:40 AM   #5
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Chapter III: Viper


Man is a curious animal. Red lights illuminated the club, drawing eerie shadows on the walls. Evolving past the immediate need for physical power. A thin, wiry man lay on a great couch, a red, stream-lined monstrosity. The man's eyes were trained on another man, a hulking brute. The brute was on his knees, begging for something which Cjones couldn't make out due to the loud music. Intelligence and technology as a substitute for physical prowess. The wiry man got to a sitting position and put the barrel of a gun on the brute's forehead. Well, can't say I disapprove. Cjones passed the wiry man's couch on his way to the winding staircase that would bring him to his destination. The sound of the shot was almost lost in the music behind him. Several 'cleaners' immediately rushed past him. A small smile came to Cjones' face.

The guard at the foot of the winding staircase wore an expensive-looking black and red suit. His eyes were obscured by dark sunglasses and his black hair was cropped short. The nasty scar on the man's neck seemed to pulse a bit due to the shifting red lights and his greeting (though no doubt polite and respectful) could not be heard over the deafening drum and bass. He stepped out of the way with a nod, admitting Cjones to the stairs, then stepping back in place after the warlord had passed him. Cjones continued up the stairs, marveling as always at the intricate designs on the staircase's walls. The murals depicted a strange mix of the symbolic and physical history of the Viper. It was certainly an impressive display and that's exactly what it had been made for, softening people up before coming face to face with the Snake. Cjones had seen it many times before, yet could never help but to study the designs again. Best part is that with every step, you get closer to the present. It's like you're traveling through the Viper's annals all the way up to the living core.

The last few winds of the stairs did not feature any murals yet. Reserved spots for future generations. Cjones wondered what would happen if the walls were full. Considering the ego of the Viper's leaders in general, the entire HQ would be re positioned and decorated to the new Snake's designs. A worry for in a hundred years, maybe. He reached the end of the staircase and pushed open the door to the second level of the Lair, the level devoted entirely to the Snake and his closest advisers. The difference in atmosphere was astounding. The second level was a place of shadowed benches and soft atmospheric music. Cjones stepped onto the red velvet that made up the floor of the place and looked around, nodding to a few of the men and women he saw sitting and lying in the shadows.

The shadows responded in kind, not wanting to disturb the peace of the place with unneeded sounds. Taron, Grundar, Yumin, Delor, Puir, Yadema, Syph. Cjones identified his fellow warlords silently. Nofir and Bryskir are not here, nor do I see Kinzey around. Details, but in this world, details could either save or condemn a person, especially in the higher tiers. Also, the reading of people. He thought as Delor beckoned him closer. Her body was laid out on the bench in the perfect position to entice any naive man or woman that were to walk up to her. Seduction was her trade and in that trade, she reigned supreme. Truth be told, just a few months before Cjones had still been a pawn to her, but the situation had changed severely since that time. He knew that Delor longed back for the green warlord easily persuaded with a tease. His smile widened as he closed in on her table.

Her voice, as always, was little more than a purr, a tease all in itself without even having to make out the words. "It's good to see you again, boy." Oh, how desperately she tried to establish dominance. "We were wondering where you'd gone. Problems in the hood?" Like I'd tell her if there were problems in my territory. Confiding too much in the other warlords was an easy way to an early grave. Cjones smiled widely. "Why yes, I believe there were some issues with a pretty boy trying to sneak into my room with a bomb jacket." Delor's eyes widened, a perfectly trained response, of course. "Not too worry, though. I wasn't in and my men managed to prevent any scratches on the furniture." He leaned in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear. "Next time, I might take the interrogation in my own hands. Whoever's responsible will pay with their life in that instance." He moved back and winked at the astonished woman's face.

Cjones stepped past her bench. It had obviously been her doing. The boy had come from exactly the opposite direction of Delor's territory, yet the kid's perfectly smooth skin and almost fabricated pretty face had made the offender quite clear to him. Not that there had been much remaining of that face and skin after Cjones' guards had come at him. He had viewed the body himself, a pitiful folded up thing riddled with bullet holes. "He didn't even see it coming." Cjones' captain had explained with a smile. "The sneak's been sneaked." He had patted his captain's shoulder and then ordered some cleaners to take care of the body. Sorry Delor, I'm not that easy. And now for the real reason of my visit here.

He paced through the room towards the heavy red curtain that hung in an arch at the end of it. Behind the curtain resided the most powerful man of the Viper, the Snake himself. Not even the warlords were comfortable going through the portal as in there, only the Snake's rules counted. What made it hard was that the Snake tended to change his mind on subjects without letting anyone know. What made it terrifying was that once the Snake had his sights set on someone, that person would not escape whatever fate the Snake had planned for them. Coupling this to the Snake's... creativity, the Viper's leader did not get many courtesy calls. When someone went through that curtain, it meant business and today was no exception to that rule.


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Old 03-14-2012, 08:42 AM   #6
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Cjones pushed the heavy cloth aside, entering the deceptively grand chamber of one of the city's most powerful men. The room was filled with the finest furniture that could be found in the city, all in red and black, of course. The set-up of the room was different every time the warlord came to visit his boss. He had often wondered whether the Snake changed the item's locations himself or if he had people to do it for him. The almost scary precision with which the room seemed to be furnished seemed to suggest the latter. The Snake was not a man known for his patience.

Cjones scanned the room for the man himself. He found him sitting in the back of the room, leaning over one of his most prized possessions. The Plague one today, I see. The slave girl lay stretched out on a rack, firmly chained and gagged. The Snake boasted eight girls, one of each gang. Every day, he would take a different one to the Lair and fasten her somewhere in his room for his pleasure. The leader claimed to have 'tamed' them all himself after they were taken out of their respective territories in raids. He would only take the best of the best and if one fell out of grace, a raid would be set up immediately to find a replacement fitting the gang of the dead girl. Cjones found the habit quite repulsive, though he understood it was one way of establishing a clear feeling of dominance. Viper's pimps would beg the Snake to take their prized trophy girl each year and the pimp lucky enough to be chosen wouldn't have to worry about a thing in the world as long as the Snake was satisfied with his toy.

The Snake spun at the arrival of Cjones. Paranoid as fuck, as any leader in this world should be. He was a small and thin man, with beady, vicious eyes and an eternal smile on his face which concealed his every emotion. You wouldn't expect him to be one of the most influential people in the city if you didn't know who he was. His appearance was most deceiving, exactly how the Snake wanted it. He was powerful, this man, far beyond the measures of most normal people in the city. Cjones knew the leader could be on him in a second and have him dead before another second had passed. However, he also knew that the Snake liked him. Of course, being liked was quite a relative thing. The Snake was known to kill his most trusted advisers on a whim. The warlord said a small mental prayer aimed at some dead deity in his head and continued on.

The Snake moved to the entrance of the room to greet his visitor. His made no sound on the floor and his way of moving was so crazily... fluent. Not a single movement was wasted by this man, every small gesture following logically from the last. Cjones blinked, and suddenly the Snake was standing in front of him, the man's eyes boring into his. He seemed to look through Cjones for a second, then widened his smile and took a step back and motioned to one of the elaborately decorated chairs. "Have a seat." The warlord sat down. He felt a bit of cold sweat forming in his neck. Nothing phazes one like being in the vicinity of such power. I gotta get through this though. He'll like my plan.

"Now, my dear warlord, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" The Snake's eyes seemed to emit a flash of light at the end of the sentence. Cjones was mesmerized by the man's very real poison fangs for a second, then looked his leader in the eyes. "I have come to ask your permission for empowering the clan, sir." The Snake impatiently gestured with his hand. "How do you plan to do this?" The warlord froze for a second. I have to tread carefully here. "Sir, as you know, most of our rivals have elite units." The Snake looked him in the eyes. Cjones thought he saw interest.

"The Plague have their Street Rats, the Asylum their Blood Lords, the Steel is a full elite unit. I could go on for a while. I was thinking..." The Snake interrupted, his voice a hiss. "No thinking, CJ. You're either certain of your plan and will bring it like the only truth, or you will get out of here this very moment. I can not be bothered for some half-assed idea." Cjones was sweating all over now. The line between death and glory is so thin. "I want to start an elite unit for the Viper. It is strange that the most dominant gang on the streets does not have their own task force for the most critical of missions. Let me pull together a team and you will not be disappointed by the results." There, blurted it out. Now the only thing to do is hope.

The Snake laughed, then abruptly stopped and pinned Cjones with his eyes. "I like your guts." The leader stood up and paced around Cjones' chair a few times, his eyes never looking away from the warlord. "Every elite unit you named has their own thing, though, CJ. The Street Rats are the masters of the chase, the lords of the hunt. The Blood Lords all have the raw power to level a city block. The Steel is the most methodical and technologically advanced faction in the whole city. If I control an elite, I want them to boast something as well, CJ. Something that makes our rivals shiver in fear at the mere mention of this... gimmick." The Snake came to a stop right in front of Cjones. "Tell me, what will be our great power, our elite's mark of excellence?"

For the first time since he had passed through the curtain and entered the leader's abode, the warlord smiled. He could feel the answer of the question surge inside him, rushing around at frantic speed and empowering his body. One small nudge and it would power him up to a level not even dreamed of before he discovered it. "Blood." Cjones replied, his eyes gleaming with the knowledge this was a good one. The Snake stepped back one step, apparently surprised by the confident answer. Then his smile widened. "I like you, CJ. You prove to me that you're the guy for the job and then you're good to go. Now get out, I've got some business to take care off." The warlord smiled and stood up. He saw the Snake's eyes flit to the slave girl chained to the rack in the back of the room. Business, yes.

Cjones exited through the heavy curtain with a great smile on his face. If my idea is good enough to arouse the Snake, I'm set for one hell of a ascension.


Last edited by Chaos; 03-15-2012 at 09:50 AM.
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