Disrespect.
There were a lot of things that Liam Owens tolerated. For him, the usual day-to-day was quite different from other common citizens. A proverbial 'day at the office" could have him supervising a drug deal, transporting human cargo for sale, having his life threatened or taking the life of someone who just happened to get in the way.
But disrespect wasn't one of them.
For a man that was self-made, growing up as on kid on the vile streets of Hells Row in Terminus, Liam came from nothing. Starting out in his late teens he began working as low-level muscle for The Terminus Syndicate and found out quickly that he had a natural talent for brute force — and uncanny marksmanship with a firearm. The title of muscle quickly changed to Hitman. Before long, he was officially inducted into the organization as a Soldier. Now, years later, that title was Lieutenant.
Liam ran a crew with three soldiers under him, and more than a dozen guys below that; most of them holding the same ranks he once held, although others performed other professions. Muscle. Hitman. Driver. Transporter. Slaver.
Each one of those professions earned respect, and respect rose from the bottom towards the top. If anyone got out of line, or showed disrespect, they were dealt with — whether they were in the organization or not. Sometimes, those random bodies that were found on the news, behind alleyways, stuffed in dumpsters or found in trunks at the bottom of the docks were just some poor sap who got out of line, or a little loose with their lips, and they found themselves on the wrong side of a barrel.
To Liam, disrespect was a fate worse than death. In death, your respect, your honor is carried with you. It ends there. That last breath that was taken was the last bit of respect that you had earned. Disrespect, however, was a stain on your ego. A reputation that preceded you with a putrid odor before even entering a room.
That was why disrespect wasn't tolerated.
Almost a week's worth of sunrises and sunsets came and went since the last time he was disrespected. Rhy"Din was filled with overly opinionated people, especially ones that have had a few drinks in them. People that couldn't mind their own business, or made it their business to mind others. When Liam decided to become verbal at the Red Dragon Inn one night about the service, or the lack thereof, there were more than a few people that told him what to go do with himself. One of them took a swing, and that person was met with a bullet. A kind reminder of what happens when someone thinks they can lay hands on him. Then, there was another individual. A ?hero' type, a local hero who threatened his life and walked away breathing that night.
It festered on Liam's soul with such disdain that it was as if an infection was eating him inside out. He was no novice, he wouldn't outwardly show that emotion or even let anyone know it was there. To him, to his organization, sometimes disrespect wasn't best dealt with immediately on the spot. Sometimes it was best dealt with at a moment when the other party least expected it.
That moment was tonight.
There were a lot of things that Liam Owens tolerated. For him, the usual day-to-day was quite different from other common citizens. A proverbial 'day at the office" could have him supervising a drug deal, transporting human cargo for sale, having his life threatened or taking the life of someone who just happened to get in the way.
But disrespect wasn't one of them.
For a man that was self-made, growing up as on kid on the vile streets of Hells Row in Terminus, Liam came from nothing. Starting out in his late teens he began working as low-level muscle for The Terminus Syndicate and found out quickly that he had a natural talent for brute force — and uncanny marksmanship with a firearm. The title of muscle quickly changed to Hitman. Before long, he was officially inducted into the organization as a Soldier. Now, years later, that title was Lieutenant.
Liam ran a crew with three soldiers under him, and more than a dozen guys below that; most of them holding the same ranks he once held, although others performed other professions. Muscle. Hitman. Driver. Transporter. Slaver.
Each one of those professions earned respect, and respect rose from the bottom towards the top. If anyone got out of line, or showed disrespect, they were dealt with — whether they were in the organization or not. Sometimes, those random bodies that were found on the news, behind alleyways, stuffed in dumpsters or found in trunks at the bottom of the docks were just some poor sap who got out of line, or a little loose with their lips, and they found themselves on the wrong side of a barrel.
To Liam, disrespect was a fate worse than death. In death, your respect, your honor is carried with you. It ends there. That last breath that was taken was the last bit of respect that you had earned. Disrespect, however, was a stain on your ego. A reputation that preceded you with a putrid odor before even entering a room.
That was why disrespect wasn't tolerated.
Almost a week's worth of sunrises and sunsets came and went since the last time he was disrespected. Rhy"Din was filled with overly opinionated people, especially ones that have had a few drinks in them. People that couldn't mind their own business, or made it their business to mind others. When Liam decided to become verbal at the Red Dragon Inn one night about the service, or the lack thereof, there were more than a few people that told him what to go do with himself. One of them took a swing, and that person was met with a bullet. A kind reminder of what happens when someone thinks they can lay hands on him. Then, there was another individual. A ?hero' type, a local hero who threatened his life and walked away breathing that night.
It festered on Liam's soul with such disdain that it was as if an infection was eating him inside out. He was no novice, he wouldn't outwardly show that emotion or even let anyone know it was there. To him, to his organization, sometimes disrespect wasn't best dealt with immediately on the spot. Sometimes it was best dealt with at a moment when the other party least expected it.
That moment was tonight.