07-11-2017, 07:46 PM
"We can't find her, Boss. She's just...gone."
Charlie kneaded his brow and sighed. "I figured. She got away from that Kuzura guy, and he's a Prime. You two schmucks were disadvantaged to begin with." The underboss leaned back in Harlan's chair and nodded. "At least you were out there. I'm sure word got out we were lookin' for her."
Bobby Stabs and Jim the Gangster nodded. "It's been quieter too...maybe the orcs think they hurt us good, enough to stay out of their way?"
Charlie shook his head. "Nah. They're consolidating. You hit an outfit hard, all at once, then you give them a spell to start to get paranoid. That's when you bring the hammer down with a full out assault." The bald man rubbed a scar above his eyebrow, one that probably told more about the story than his words. "The Boss needs to get back, now. This calm won't last long, and truth be told..." He caught himself as he realized who was in the room with him. Hand raised, he motioned out the door. "Scram, you two. And shut the door."
The youthful malcontents acquiesced and beat feet, closing the office door. Charlie slid the desk drawer open, only to discover that he'd smoked the last cigar two hours ago. All this stress. It got to a man. "Shit...I don't think we can withstand a full assault on this place. We just ain't got the bricks."
Charlie pulled out a weather paper map of Tier 5. At least, the section closest to them. There was still pleeeenty of tier that stretched in all different directions that hadn't even heard of the Gentleman Jacks. But if they survived this, Omni willing, they would eventually.
The Jack's underboss began going over the territory distribution, marking possible Ork buildup sites, the Westsiders strongholds, and how the eventual battlefield would pan out. Little New York was only about 60 blocks square, and the edges were already fraying from the last attack. Christ, what a nightmare. There was no way to protect where the next attack would be, where they're fall in from, if they'd move on one of the other gangs first. The bald man mumbled to himself, chewing on a pen. "Floating Lotus have been active....the Directors have been quiet, but that might change with this shit getting stirred up....fuck..."
"Charlie. Charlie. Would you please tell me something, hmm?"
Charlie looked up, only to see something large and round flying towards him. He started, scooting back from the desk as a grotesque splat echoed off the walls. The severed (well....ripped off) head of a green orc landed right on his map, staring up at him with dead eyes and an expression of terror. The Jack's underboss looked past the grisly sight to see Harlan Higgs, Prodigal Boss standing in the doorway, several wicked blades sticking out of his body at odd angles and plasma burns marring his skin.
The vampire adjusted a nearly incinerated derby on his head and stared at Charlie with a placid look on his face. "Would you care to be telling me why exactly I had to fight two Ork hit squads on my way home? I was under the impression I left things rather serene and in quite capable hands."
There was a moment of silence.
And then Charlie told him everything that had happened while he had been gone.
In the meantime, Harlan had removed the orc weapons from his torso and resummoned his usual snazzy clothing. "Hmm. Well. I can't say I'm happy, exactly....but you did well enough. No one could have seen this shit coming."
Charlie breathed out a sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding in. "We tried finding this Luci broad so you could have a chat, but-"
Harlan cut him off with a grin. "Oh, that's been taken care of. She was very accomodating. We've been invited to the next Westside Emergency Council meeting."
The vampire continued. "And until then....I have a project to take care of. And all your fears will be allayed."
Charlie stood up from the chair and returned Harlan's seat of power to him. "Might I ask how, Boss?"
The gambler slid behind his desk, his eyes glimmering. "Oh, you'll see. It's right up my...Alley."
Charlie kneaded his brow and sighed. "I figured. She got away from that Kuzura guy, and he's a Prime. You two schmucks were disadvantaged to begin with." The underboss leaned back in Harlan's chair and nodded. "At least you were out there. I'm sure word got out we were lookin' for her."
Bobby Stabs and Jim the Gangster nodded. "It's been quieter too...maybe the orcs think they hurt us good, enough to stay out of their way?"
Charlie shook his head. "Nah. They're consolidating. You hit an outfit hard, all at once, then you give them a spell to start to get paranoid. That's when you bring the hammer down with a full out assault." The bald man rubbed a scar above his eyebrow, one that probably told more about the story than his words. "The Boss needs to get back, now. This calm won't last long, and truth be told..." He caught himself as he realized who was in the room with him. Hand raised, he motioned out the door. "Scram, you two. And shut the door."
The youthful malcontents acquiesced and beat feet, closing the office door. Charlie slid the desk drawer open, only to discover that he'd smoked the last cigar two hours ago. All this stress. It got to a man. "Shit...I don't think we can withstand a full assault on this place. We just ain't got the bricks."
Charlie pulled out a weather paper map of Tier 5. At least, the section closest to them. There was still pleeeenty of tier that stretched in all different directions that hadn't even heard of the Gentleman Jacks. But if they survived this, Omni willing, they would eventually.
The Jack's underboss began going over the territory distribution, marking possible Ork buildup sites, the Westsiders strongholds, and how the eventual battlefield would pan out. Little New York was only about 60 blocks square, and the edges were already fraying from the last attack. Christ, what a nightmare. There was no way to protect where the next attack would be, where they're fall in from, if they'd move on one of the other gangs first. The bald man mumbled to himself, chewing on a pen. "Floating Lotus have been active....the Directors have been quiet, but that might change with this shit getting stirred up....fuck..."
Quote:And then the door to the office was kicked in.
"Charlie. Charlie. Would you please tell me something, hmm?"
Charlie looked up, only to see something large and round flying towards him. He started, scooting back from the desk as a grotesque splat echoed off the walls. The severed (well....ripped off) head of a green orc landed right on his map, staring up at him with dead eyes and an expression of terror. The Jack's underboss looked past the grisly sight to see Harlan Higgs, Prodigal Boss standing in the doorway, several wicked blades sticking out of his body at odd angles and plasma burns marring his skin.
The vampire adjusted a nearly incinerated derby on his head and stared at Charlie with a placid look on his face. "Would you care to be telling me why exactly I had to fight two Ork hit squads on my way home? I was under the impression I left things rather serene and in quite capable hands."
There was a moment of silence.
And then Charlie told him everything that had happened while he had been gone.
In the meantime, Harlan had removed the orc weapons from his torso and resummoned his usual snazzy clothing. "Hmm. Well. I can't say I'm happy, exactly....but you did well enough. No one could have seen this shit coming."
Charlie breathed out a sigh he didn't realize he'd been holding in. "We tried finding this Luci broad so you could have a chat, but-"
Harlan cut him off with a grin. "Oh, that's been taken care of. She was very accomodating. We've been invited to the next Westside Emergency Council meeting."
The vampire continued. "And until then....I have a project to take care of. And all your fears will be allayed."
Charlie stood up from the chair and returned Harlan's seat of power to him. "Might I ask how, Boss?"
The gambler slid behind his desk, his eyes glimmering. "Oh, you'll see. It's right up my...Alley."
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”