Topic: DCH - Getting Back to Business

Mr. Howe

Date: 2008-04-16 19:13 EST
It's all about timing. Alain's overcoat collar is turned up, the tails swaying and swirling behind him, cigarette hanging from lips twisted in a scowl. He bounces a bit with each step, an arrogant and angry strut, manila envelope clutched in one hand and a Leica camera in the other. The manna-powered cameras sway this way and that, and completely miss the detective's approach until he's right at the door. He tucks the envelope under his arm and knocks three times, loudly, with the back of his hand.

The warehouse looks like any other sandwiched between the Westend and the Dockside. The building has been weathered and worn by time with few doors and windows. The surrounding area isn't of the loveliest that Rhy"Din has to offer; in fact crime runs rampant along these dark, backstreets. The locale may not be befitting the status that Howe has suggested DCH has, and the warehouse may look grimy and rarely used, but the place has some security. Alain with his trained eyes would easily be able to detect what is currently in use. Perhaps not of the highest quality, there is no doubt that some investment has gone into securing the place. It is easy for the detective to realize they need help. They obviously aren't currently using an expert. Perhaps things aren't as rosy as Howe had suggested" But the money he'd already paid Alain was real enough.

It takes several minutes after Alain knocked for the door to creak open. An old man wearing glasses pinched atop his bulbous nose peeks through a crack in the wooden weather-beaten door. Staring wide eyed at Alain, the chain still kept in place for safety, as if Alain couldn't knock the door open anyway. "Yes" What ya want?" He asks in a none-too-polite tone of voice. Alain gives the old man an unpleasant smile, looks down to the envelope, and tugs out a few photographs of a certain Norseman entering the building with incense, candles....enough to know they do some kind of ritual in here. "Alain D'Mourir, here to speak to your boss about his security problem."

The old man looks at the pictures, squinting eyes and scowling. "Ya ain't got no business round these parts, boyo! Off with ya! We don't want any!" He didn't seem phased by the images; in fact, he is acting like they mean nothing to him. He waves a shooing hand at the detective as the door begins to shut. Then in the background a grumbling shout can be heard. "Let the boy in, idiot. Minions! You conjure them and no matter how enhanced a brain you give them they always come out lacking!"

The old man cringes and shuts the door. Alain can hear the scrapping of the chain being removed but when the door opens again; there is no sign of the old man, just an empty hallway and very, very little light. Somewhere out of that gloominess Howe calls. "Come on in, son. We got a lot of work to do." The voice comes from a room off to the left of the hallway. Alain walks inside and shuts the door behind him, not looking at it when he does, but at his surroundings. There are few places Alain will enter, not even his own home or workplace, without scoping it out for an ambush. He tucks the pictures back into the envelope and makes his way into the room.

Something strange must be going on. When Alain steps inside the interior somehow seems larger than it should as if more space is being taken up inside than the warehouse has outside. The left hallway has a myriad of doors leading off of it. To the right seems to be the same and directly in front of him are stairs that lead up at least four stories. Externally, the warehouse has two. A dim light at the end of the left hallway has a shadowy figure blocking it. The shadow's arm lifts and it seems to be waving Alain forward. "Down here, son. We'll worry about setting up office space another time. Today we have more important issues to discuss. We'll do that in the comfort of the sitting room.?

Comfort' Well on some levels there seems to have been some kind of effort made in that direction. However, the room is dark and airless, stale. The furniture although plush and expensive seems out of place and the room itself has no personality. No special touches brighten these living quarters, no pictures of children or relatives, no pretty mementos gathered through one's life. No, the room is sparse, empty save for the furnishings. It, like its masters, has no soul.

Mr. Howe

Date: 2008-04-18 15:32 EST
Howe waves Alain to have a seat as he decants a bottle of expensive wine. "It needs to breathe. Hungry' I am sure I could scare something up for you." Small talk, it means nothing and it shows, Howe isn't interested in making Alain comfortable; he obviously has other things on his mind. "Now, what?s that you have there, eh' Pictures"! What, you paranoid, boy' Wondering why we do what we do, eh' You got some "ulterior" motive?" Alain says nothing to everything else Mr. Howe says. He soaks in his surroundings and makes his way into the sitting room, taking in his spartan surroundings. He eyes the wine, then Mr. Howe, and tosses the pictures onto the desk.

"These pictures mean your security is terrible. I've seen this man before, and if you hadn't been the one to contract me, I'd follow him around town and figure out what he was up to. Hell, I wouldn't have to - I'd set up a tripod on the top floor across the street and take pictures. Why you picked a place next to any building tall enough to allow surveillance is beyond me. And you know what? Your cameras?"

He laughs. "I can see them. I could get a look at them without any of them getting a look at me. They rotate, for Christ's sake. I walked right up to the door, and if I were someone else with the proper means to knock that door down, then you'd be in real trouble right now, wouldn't you."

"Frankly, Mr. Howe, your security's terrible. It baffles me that you're even alive."

Howe stares at Alain with a heavy scowl marring beefy features. A slow shake of his head as he looks down at the photos then back up at the man. "My, my, my, when you take a job, you really take it." He says then smiles. "Sit down, son, make yourself comfortable. You're right of course, we didn't have time to outfit this place, didn't know we'd be moving in it so to speak like we did. But son, this is what you have to work with, you tellin" me you're not up for the job?" Howe doesn't comment to Alain's statement about the Senior Partners still being alive. Of course, only two are currently on the physical plane, Howe refrains from pointing this little known fact out to the detective, at least not yet. "And just what are we to do about that, eh?" Howe nods to the images of Guthorm coming and going, carrying in the supplies needed to resurrect their missing Cheatham. "We need that stuff, son. It isn't going to fall in our laps from out of the sky." "Does this building link up to the sewers?" Alain offers, finally sitting down now that he feels he's asserted himself. "If you can establish a secure link to the sewer tunnels, we can transport material through there; much harder to trace. Hell, you can even do things to throw off would-be spies, switch areas, make them waste resources staking out empty buildings." He doesn't say a word about not being up for the job - he'd rather pretend Mr. Howe had never even suggested it.

"Ahh, quick witted, I like that. Yes, we have access to the sewers, and we've got contractors who can make the below as secure as the above." Just like they had the basement at the old office building, this is, before it was blown up. "You just tell them what you want, son. We've worked up a hefty budget for you. Got the paperwork right here," Howe pushes the pictures aside and picks up a small black banking book. "Account was opened in Stars End, with your name on it. Here you go." The book is handed over to Alain without further ceremony. "You do whatever you need to in order to make this place tight as a tick. We'll worry about getting you more money if you need it." Howe smirks as he chooses a cigar from a box on the desk beside him. "Now, that we've gotten that bit of business done, let's move on shall we" We have a very busy day ahead of us, boy." As Howe speaks he picks up the cigar box and offers it over to Alain, should he like to partake too. The heavy smell of unlit expensive cigars adds to the stale bite of the airless room, one could imagine how it will smell when lit! "We have several things we need you to attend to for us, boy. Guthorm has been overwhelmed lately; he has too many things to do, so we've decided that you might be able to help. But first, I would very much like to discuss just how observant you are about our fair city. Tell me Alain, my boy, who do you think is the most dangerous amongst the population' Who do you think are the most' hmm' "Lawful" as well, eh?" Alain takes a cigar from the box. He's a fan of them. He bites off the end and lights the thing with a zippo.

"It's all relative, Mr. Howe." He props the little black book on his thigh. The symbolism is eerie for him. "For a man who takes liberties with children or a serial murderer, the Scathachians are his biggest fear. For a smuggler, it's a virtuous Watchman, but for every one of those, there's a lawman who can be bought. As far as the 'lawful'..." That actually makes him chuckle, smoke rising with it. "I don't think there's any such thing. I think the question you want to be asking, is who poses the biggest danger to you, and they are those who cannot be bought, blackmailed, or otherwise coerced: men with agendas beyond money and power."

Howe takes his time in lighting his own cigar and he is far too civilized to use his teeth. Instead from his pocket he removes a device which, with a little manipulation, slices the end of the cigar with deadly accuracy and speed. The device is returned to his pocket and the cigar lit with a wooden match taken from the box and struck against the wall. Howe chuckles through the smoke. "Yes, we've heard some about the Scathachian Sisters. Tell me do they have any enemies, these justice seeking wenches" As for those who can be bought' Do you have names" Can you find them' DCH is seeking to do a little more local socializing, it's about time we began taking an "earnest' interest in the daily dealings of Rhy"Din." "There have been markings associated with serial murders this side of the river taunting the Sisters....but I don't think we'd be able to contact them. As for your local....socializing..." Alain considers. "Well, what kind of dealings do you plan to do?"

With a shake of his head Howe laughs. "You want to know what we have in mind, son?" He says. "What we have planned, boy, will become your business if and when we want it to. Understand" Now" Maybe I am not being plain enough for you. What I want to know is who the monsters are. See, we, me and my partners, have been too narrow sighted in our "projects", we are considering "expanding" our horizons. It's about time we learned about the others who might' ah' Benefit us in our, let's call it, needs, shall we" Now, why don't we try this again, yes" Tell me about these" 'serial killers?" And why are they so hard to reach' You tellin" me boy you can't do it?"

There is smugness to Howe's expression as he takes a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs, beady eyes hard on Alain as he pulls from the expensive, smelly cigar. Plumes of smoke obscure the look briefly, then as it begins to drift away, the hint of red glints through the brown of narrowed eyes. "Either you can do it, or you aren't the man we thought you were?? A taunting statement to say the least and one intended to sting. Alain looks Howe in the eye, considering carefully. This would be quite a betrayal...

...or quite a coup.

Mr. Howe

Date: 2008-04-19 17:38 EST
"I know the identity of a few - they do their work now through the Black Wolf Guild." Alain says, "I've got closer tabs on them than anyone in RhyDin - but I can't have my identity revealed, lest the Sisters find out. If you can assist me in masking my identity, I can put you in contact with them."

The snake-like smile speaks louder than any words, Howe chuckles nodding to the detective. "I can give you powers you could only have imagined before, boy. It's a simple thing. You want the ability to mask" It's yours." As he speaks he waves a hand towards Alain. Maybe the detective can feel the sudden genetic enhancement' more likely than not, all he feels is a hint of heartburn. "Of course" You will have to learn how to use it' unless you care to renegotiate our current deal?" Howe's trickery has an agenda; to get Alain so drunk on power he will do anything to get more. This is merely a trifling of what Howe is willing to give the man to seduce him into a blood contract. The more souls gathered the merrier, he always likes to say. However, right now he only allows himself to subtly allude to the goal. "Get us the names. We want to have a quiet sit-down chat with these" 'serial killers". Besides, look at it this way, yes" If we can get them to work for us, they will spend less time ratting around in the streets aimlessly, don't you agree?" He pauses to enjoy a pull from his cigar, the smoke trickles from his lips and nose slowly before he forcefully exhales. "Now" to the other matter at hand." From his coat pocket Howe pulls another manila envelope. He tosses it to Alain nonchalantly. "Inside you will find a dossier on a man known as Ian Miller. I want you to kidnap the man. He's not be harmed in any way permanently, understand" You can knock him out, but not knock out his brains. You can drug him as long as he can recover from it. You can do anything you need to, but under no circumstances are you to harm the body! Understand" We need him by Sunday, boy. I won't hear any excuses to the contrary, just make it so." It is unlikely that Alain has ever heard of Ian Miller, in fact, looking over the man's dossier Alain will find he is nothing more than some dock worker, seemingly of no real importance. "Now" if I am overwhelming you do let me know. But understand that this is what we need from someone we're putting in your position and paying the handsome salary we've offered?" Not to mention all the perks; from the new 'skills' to the odd freedom in designing DCH's entire security system.

Alain examines the dossier, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, at least verbally, with anything he says. He nods, looks up, and asks,

"Do you care who brings in Mr. Miller" I can do an abduction, I'm sure, but there are specialists I could contact."

"Hmm." Howe has to think about Alain's question. He scowls as he thinks, fingers falling to drum on the arm of his chair while he continues to enjoy his cigar. "Can we kill the specialists" after they have done their jobs" Thing about this situation, son," Howe says, sounding very much like a country-lawyer, "We don't want a lot of folks to know about this" tiny, small thing. The less who know, the better! We've been very careful picking out the body, boy. We've chosen a man who can 'disappear" without a trace and no one will be left asking questions. So if you can give me a guarantee that these 'specialists" of yours can be silent or dead" Then excellent, put them to work. Otherwise; I want this job to be hands of for you."

"I can make the necessary arrangements," Alain says simply, still exuding that same air of professional coldness.

"Is there anything else for me to see to?"

Mr. Howe

Date: 2008-04-20 15:34 EST
"How soon do you think it will take to get the new security systems up and working, eh?" Howe puts his cigar into a nearby ashtray, leaving it to smolder to a slow death. "The sooner the better, son, I would prefer it that way." Howe claps his hands together and rubs them gleefully. "I realize we've placed a lot on your lap, boy, a lot more work than I suspect you were expecting. But thing is, we've been in need of someone like you for a few months. Ever since our old security team was eat?" Howe clears his throat, "blown up in that terrible explosion that destroyed our office building. So I am sure you will understand our urgency in this?" Howe pushes his hefty body to a stand, looking down on Alain as he lumbers over to the desk. He pulls open a drawer and pulls out a stack of fresh bills. Sauntering over to Alain he dumps the money in the man's lap. It's a lot of money, twice as much, perhaps three times more than he'd given Alain last time and Howe doesn't even blink. "You've got the company account, that's for anything to do with our business, son. This," Howe nods at the money, "is for your own personal uses. Do with it as you want. Maybe it will help you with your "projects?"" Howe shrugs. "Or maybe it will attract you some more compliant women than Sid" One can only hope?" Howe relishes the chance to slam Sid. Let's face it, he hates the Ancient, if he has the opportunity to trash talk her, especially to one who is so obviously smitten with her, it brings him abounding joy! "I was hoping we could find some use for Sid that could please both of us," Alain says dryly, "but that's something we can discuss at another time." He looks down at the bills and makes an estimate, and then sets them aside.

"I understand your urgency. I can implement new security measures within a week." His cold is in part professionalism - the other part' Keeping him sane in the face of these lawyers, and what his mind is doing to defend himself from them.

"I can think of many things to do with Sid. And none that include pleasure" for her, son, for her." Howe laughs heartily, as if the thought of what he wanted to do to her brings him great delight. "Now, if say you'd chosen someone more" hmm' Delectable, like that lovely Erin or even perhaps the alluring Taneth; then perhaps I would have agreed to "play' with them. Alas, I have no taste for the Whore of Spring. And if you knew what was good for you, son, neither would you!"

Howe picks up the decanted wine and pours himself a glass, a nod to Alain with a gesture with the bottle, an invitation to join him. "Care for a glass" I like hearing that you can have our personal security up within a week, boy. Yes, that will do. Before you set that meeting with your 'serial killers", yes" I wouldn't want to be left open for any "uninvited" guests. I'm sure you understand. Now" about the Bloods: you have a connection with Kitty Helston, correct' I think that can be used against them. Know any of the others" Like that tasty Tasha, Corwyn's wayward daughter, or that bitch Belial" I am thinking that perhaps we could use you to bait them, son. Yes, you are handsome enough and aren't known to be affiliated with us. I think you might be able to get in nice and tight with them. Close enough in fact to kill them!" Howe smiles most jovially at the mere idea of entrapping the Blood women. His smile is so sincere it could freeze the blood of most sane humans. Whatever he's thinking it is truly appeasing to him. "I'm more of a whiskey person myself," Alain says regarding the wine, and takes another puff of his cigar. There's a lot he's thinking about right now, and even more he's doing his best not to think about. "Ms. Helston and I are opening a business together, as I believe I've told you, and I believe I can use it to keep a close eye on the Bloods' assets, as the business itself involves a great deal of importing. As far as drawing them out into the open....pick one, and we can work on drawing her out and killing her off."

Gears are turning...."What of Taneth' I was interested in her once, long ago....but I haven't seen much of her. Erin I've already had," he adds dismissively.

Howe doesn't seem to particularly enjoy hearing how Alain has already "had" Erin. However he is quick to hide the sudden scowl from the boy, no need letting too much show. "I want you to kill Belial first." Yes, because if that bitch is even remotely suspicious of Alain, she'll kill him; it's what he deserves with his oh-so-casual declaration about Erin! "She's got some supernatural bizarre connection with Corwyn. One of our" former allies sensed it." Unbeknownst to Alain, Howe is speaking about Gabriel and the information he shared before his ultimate betrayal of DCH over the vermin known as the Seer. "If we kill her we will weaken the Seraph! If you can get close enough that is." Howe sneers over at Alain viciously. "Being the slut I am sure you are reputed to be, she might not be so easy for you to "conquer" boy." Howe's nastiness is fired by jealousy, over the Alain and Erin news. "She, unlike the Whore of Spring, is more discriminating. Always so worried that she'll get the poor sods killed off; yes, we can use that against her too. If you won't do, perhaps you know someone who might' Look into it.?

Mr. Howe

Date: 2008-04-22 15:49 EST
Howe sits the decanter aside and takes up his glass of wine. He savors a sip before he continues. "Taneth; now there is a tasty little treat, eh' Now, if you were to set your sights on that girl, I would be more than happy to lure her in to more DCH business. We still aren't sure what tricks she has up her sleeves. But let's be honest, shall we" It is doubtful she knows what she can do. Such a na've and strange girl, she forgets to put on her shoes! But her energy is scrumptious, I must say." What Howe doesn't say is how much fun it would be to take Taneth away from Dewey. It was when Howe faced the Prodigy that he realized how little Dewey could be trusted. His partner had simply stood and watched. Dewey would have watched the Prodigy tear Howe apart without lifting a hand! Now, Howe is determined to pay Dewey back for that insult and what better way than to "play' with Dewey's precious Taneth"!

"Yes, use this new venture with Kitty Helston to gain as much trust and information as you can. Exploit her, Alain. I want you to make sure to seduce her as well. Cuckolding Tass would bring me great happiness! I overheard a conversation between her and some drunkard at the bar, I think Ms. Helston will be rather open to anyone's attentions. She claims they are in an "open relationship". Yes" very exploitable for us, isn't it just." It's a little much to digest - not even from an emotional standpoint, but business-wise. "I hope you don't mind if I take a few notes," Alain says, and removes a little black book of his own - a fresh one. However, there's little he jots down - a couple of dozen words, maybe, to help him recall all that he and Mr. Howe have discussed.

"Belial is interested in those who are....interesting to her, is it?" He lifts his chin, eyes gleaming in the dark, teeth bared just a touch, just enough to reveal the canines. "I know there are less than conventional means to 'conquest,' Mr. Howe, as it is not just mortals I have shared my bed with." He looks down to smile at his little black book, jotting down a word, though his eyes take a long time dulling again. "Kitty will be easy. She was before, she will be now."

"Belial is a bitch, I want her dead. She's been nothing but a pain in our asses for years now. She knows too much, boy." It is as if Alain's display of teeth holds little to no understanding to Howe, he seems to be ignoring it. "As for who she's interested in"! That's a million dollar question, ain't it' She is rarely seen in public with anyone close to resembling a lover. Except that Drow, what was his name" You find him, you kill that one, it'll rattle the bitch senseless. In fact, you find anyone she's close to you can take out' You have my authority to do so." Howe doesn't know of Belial's "addiction", but if he did" He would exploit that too. Howe sneers then slams back a hefty amount of wine, not really savoring the expensive vintage. "As for Ms. Helston; careful, with that one, Alain, she comes with claws. She's Blood. You watch your back with her, because she gets an idea something is up with you? She'll be talking to Tass and we don't want him involved in our little" games, you understand!"

Howe doesn't bother to explain why; he merely demands it to be so. "Now, you have a lot to do and so do I son. I think you should get to it, don't you?"

Alain takes another drag of his cigar, and because he's found he rather likes pushing Mr. Howe's buttons, watching him rant and rile himself....he says nothing more than, "Indeed." He puts his cigar out, not even halfway done, and puts the bills away along with the photos and the pair of little black books.

"I'm going to take a look around. Then I'll be back tomorrow to start implementing better security."

Howe looks hard on Alain for a moment; darkness runs behind beady eyes but does not bleed them to red. He nods slowly more to his thoughts than Alain. "Take a look around. There are two locked rooms; you won't be able to access them. Don't worry; what?s behind them is none of your business, boy. Don't take all day and I highly recommend you are out of here by nightfall. That's when Mister Dewey will be returning. You don't want to be here when he does. His moods of late have been very black, very black indeed!" Howe continues his regard of the man, thin lips curled with some form of disapproval. Yes, he's stewing over the Erin thing, but Howe relishes such revelry in sin. "You're handsome and rather popular with the girls, aren't you? So confident and sure of yourself: but just you wait, Mister D"Mourir, one day," Howe snaps his finger and thumb with a resounding crack, "You wake up and it will all be gone?" Howe chuckles softly. "But you are a lucky man for having met me. So careful son, don't let me down, because if you do; Mister Dewey's black moods are nothing compared to mine." "With all due respect, Mister Howe....when my confidence leaves me, I'll be cold and dead." Alain pats himself down for a cigarette and smiles narrowly as he rises. "You enjoy your evening."

Alain leaves to take a look around, to plan their security, to figure out all the holes, to snoop where possible....and to escape Mr. Howe's stifling presence and that dark, musty room.

Tristin J. Thompson

Date: 2008-06-14 04:42 EST
The darkness of the night ended at the streetlamp, and the sky seemed to hold it's breath as the breeze suddenly died. Then from the outskirts of that light stepped Tristin, his head pointed upwards, his elongated canines exposed in a slight smile, which slowly vanished as he looked over to the new offices. Tristin stifled a low rumbling growl of frustration, as he wondered where his main backer had disappeared too, but he stifled his confusion as three of his bodyguards stepped from the night, and walked close to his back, to look over his shoulder at the building. Before them stood what was left of the DCH offices and labs, Tristan could smell fire, but it was a distant waft, that lingered only for a second; which told him it was weeks, even maybe months ago when the previous building had burned or otherwise fell to some sort of fire. He looked at the sign his red eyed gaze drinking in the words "Morgan Enterprises", at this point he muttered words about this situation that would not do anyone any good by gratifying in repeating.

"Sir, there are no signs of the senior partners, or their associates?"

His breath was held in his lungs, as his leader turned in an inhuman movement, the blur, and flash of his very expensive wrist watch glinted against the glow of the streetlamp, and his muscled hand closed around the man's throat.

"You think I can't see that!"

In a single clenching motion, his neck and windpipe were crushed, and then in a jerk scarlet and crimson were scattered painting the street below their feet, and covering Tristin in a spray of the red mist. He snarled, revealing those glinting canines, as he looked at the other men, as if daring them to say something.

Four more men crossed from a corner to Tristin's right, his bodyguards made a motion to draw weapons, but quickly stopped, seeing that they too wore bandanas aligning themselves as allies.

Tristin turned now to face the newcomers, awaiting the words of each as they stepped into the circle of light offered by the single working streetlamp. They all looked down at the towering corpse of their comrade, and two of them paled, and the other two began to sweat severely considering their complexions didn't offer them the opportunity to pale.

"Well we got the two buildin's in Westend as you suggested, the warehouse is on its own block, on the far north side, an the studio is already bein set up three blocks away from it." The first piped up quickly avoiding Tristin's glare as he stepped away, putting a little more distance between himself and his leader, his hands shaking slightly at the sight of his boss" fallen bodyguard.

"Good." Was Tristin's only response as he looked at the second in the line of four.

"There are three cooks set up in the warehouse, as well as several people workin on the gate back to Earth, they also have a forge bein set up, so we can produce weapons and stock to sell an trade, at-least in tha area of business" an we broke down four bricks, sacked "em up, an we pushin as I speak." He nodded solemnly, and stepped out of the grim line, his eyes also flashing from his leader to the bodyguard's corpse.

Nodding Tristin's red eye's landed on his third lieutenant, his upper lip finally settling into its usual hardened expression, and he licked the blood from his lips, his eyes offering a faint glow at the taste, before they locked with the man's straight ahead stare.

"We recruited "bout thirty more, an we got bout twenty posted at the warehouse, at various concealed locations" we have patrols going through Westend in our own four block radius from the warehouse to the studio. We also got another shipment of weapons, which we have distributed evenly, an there's "bout three of our better men lookin for some good vehicles to start up with that end of things." He concluded his statement, color returning to his face, before he slid a cigarette into his lips, and lit it with a Zippo, and then he glanced around as if looking for someone who would overhear his next statement, then he smiled, "Plus we got yo special shipment, an we secured it in the warehouse's office."

Tristin smiled at this thought, and only silenced the escape of whims from his lips, as he grinded his teeth, the white still causing his heart to race, and his senses to heighten more so. His eyes now locked on the last man, who stood, silently awaiting the beckoning of his leader.

"There's enough product to disperse samples, an still make a nice profit, an we got several men recruitin more pushers, an men to deal them in a wider area, we're also workin on getting ownership of some more buildin's, our money's doin great, an there's expected to be an increase in income in the next two days; we have an operation already breachin the city guard, so we can get a payroll, an bribes started, an we also workin on the angle of gettin an operation started in the market with a fence." The man smiled, his teeth showing against his ebony skin, as the light reflected making it glisten in smooth contrast from the darkness surrounding the scene.

Smiling now, again baring his elongated canines he looked at all four of his men, and without another word he waved his hand and dismissed his lieutenants to continue about their business. His eyes moving to the two remaining bodyguards, and they too vanished into the darkness, to remain hidden.

"Well now all I gotta" do is find my host then" Where are ya Mista Howe" I came to play on ya side nigga" These streets'll be mine, but I need you to tell me which ones to take an hold?" He mused to himself, as he turned to the encroaching darkness, as the streetlamp flickered, then died. And he vanished from the scene altogether. In search of the man who had told him about this place, and said he would fund his business ventures in this very strange realm. The words barely a whisper, but seeming to climb strangely, as if other presences within the man forced it to drift on the still air, into the confines of darkness. They lingered, as if spread like rumors towards the ears he wished them to reach, carried like song, and hushed in their own sense of grave presence.