Ajolz passed the man from earlier unknowingly. His form clothed in an attire of pitch cloth, hooded sweatshirt, skintight jeans, and thrice leathered combat boots plated in high-carbon steel sat above the second story balcony of a apartment laying smack-dab in the middle of the city. Its interior was broken down and riddled with many decaying pieces of furniture. Blonde bangs peeked from the crown of his head covering, masking visage. Ivory fangs snarled upon the sighting of a few thugs stalking the youth. "Prey.." Sladelius quickly perched himself on the cold steel railing, bending either knee to crouch. Nondominant left hand rested a flat palm against the surface as the opposite reached behind his right hip to draw the two and a half foot long katana from a steel clip attached to his middle belt loop. The beast did not withdraw the weapon's blade, but rather gripped the midsection of the midnight saya.
"Fool don't know what he's gotten himself into." A rather tall African American male huffed to a much smaller Caucasian. Ruby tendrils sprouted from his scalp in rows of four. Several piercings lined each ear, with the rest of his face being covered by a thin pair of tan panty hose, save for crimson eyes. The rest of his form was not surmisable, but it was easy to make out a large two-by-four lined in razor wire firmly gripped in his left hand, which had been bare. "Niggas these days neva pay no attention to dey surroundin', so they end up dyin' in the worst places." "Yeah, that does seem the happen quite often here." The other spoke calmly. "You sense anything out of the ordinary?" Black fingerless gloves rose to push a think index finger against the bridge of his nose, pointing to a luminous diamond mark seemingly carved into the gentleman's flesh. Platinum blonde hair was tied into a straight ponytail, held together by a thin matching rubber band to match the shade. Dull ocean blue oculi highlighted by thin crescents for irides gazed at the locale, raising both brows suspiciously. The man was dressed in a solid white business suit, gator shoes, and fedora.
"Call for your men, Deon.. Something isn't right." In a quick snap of the wrist, the minion did as his master bidded, using his thumb to flick open a small silver cell phone lid, speedily pecking at the number pad before fumbling. "Ahh, fuck it! Aye yo Siri, call tha squad." "Calling Tha Squad...."
