The Golden Age (IC Superhero Roleplay)

[Razilin]

"I'm well aware of the greed of snakes," the Setting Sun murmured. He gestured to the maps on the worktable. "There's a reason I'm striking the way I am. A snake is vulnerable when it is alone. When no one will do business with him. How are my attacks not going to affect his coffers?"

But behind his scarf, he smiled. "But if you know a more - precise - way to thin his purse, I'm all ears. I not in the business of risking innocents. And an alliance sounds...appealing. You give me a target, girl, then this sword will carve out the heart of our foe before you can blink."

The swordsman walked up to the clockface. From this side of it, the hands were obviously reversed. He could still see through the stained, thick glass. He could still make out some of the shapes of the buildings outside. "As for Serpico's family. If evil men believe they are safe behind their guns and soldiers and walls...well, then they've never met me."

He extended a hand to the other vigilante. "Name your target, Gone Girl. The Setting Sun will cut it to pieces."

 

[Michale CS]

He extended a hand to the other vigilante. "Name your target, Gone Girl. The Setting Sun will cut it to pieces."

Well... A little more murderous than I'd like, but what choice did I have? Say no and let him wander?

I twitch a smile at him and take his hand. He'd probably notice that I run a little cold. "All right. Here's the deal. Twice a month, usually on a Friday, Serpico sends his money out to wash, if you pick up what I'm layin down. Several big trucks head out of town, actual laundry trucks. One of em has dough instead of laundry, rumor has it. It won't be easy, cause of course you don't let something like that just roll out. I can shake some trees and figure out which of the trucks has the moola, and you and I can hit that one. And as you've figured out, I got an in with the cops, so I'll have him busy fending off the heat while we're relieving him of his dirty laundry. So, you game?"

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

Scent told Veronica quite a lot about people. Although it took her years to master, she could identify where a person came from based on the faint traces of the smells of a place mingling with the scent of people. As Nathaniel explained himself, she was scanning him with all her senses. She had been using this ability since before she was legal age so she had gotten pretty keen.

Veronica wasn't sure what his gloves were for, since it was a pretty hot day. What she could tell was that his instrument case contained a weapon. The sound it made when placed down was different from an actual instrument. She took a discreet breath through her nose.

He had walked, she was able to tell with the smell of the streets a little over his perfume or the fabric conditioner of his clothes. It was very slight. She also smelled smoke. Veronica searched his eyes as he spoke, noticing him hesitate on describing Aeros. Lie. She declared, hearing it in the small change of tone and the sudden grin. She didn't need to return the smile as she already was when she wasn't sipping on her drink.

There was something Nathaniel hid about Aeros, something probably important. Veronica's relaxed smile gradually became a smirk. "Aeros, man of flight. I haven't been well acquainted with him and I've got to say...you two have something in common that I can't quite put my finger on."

Scent, perhaps?

She slid her empty glass aside and leaned back. "Aeros disappeared a little over two years ago, from my memory. You're not the first to wonder where he went. I doubt he made a lot of friends among the supers, though since it was mostly civilians who looked for him. Not a lot of the supers can fly, in fact, among the active ones around the time he did hero work, he was the only one who specialized in flight...so he was pretty memorable to the spectators." She watched him carefully, entwining her fingers in front of her. "That aside, I've nothing else for now. Just that he worked a bit before disappearing. I'll look around for you, but depending on what I dig up, it might be pricey." She gave him a grin as she propped her chin on her hands. "I'll need something of his, if you wish to continue. And every piece of information about him you can give me. We can start with your best friend. What was his name? He should know about Aeros of course, I'll need his word."

She put her hands down and leaned forward. "I'm not an investigator though. Nor am I a cop. I can't promise I'll find him in person and I won't promise to save him if he's in danger. You know this, but I want to make it clear. I deal with information, only."

Nathaniel didn't know much about Vixen, he knew that she was super-powered like a good chuck of the people who lived in the city, himself included and that she specfically dealt with information when it came to superheroes, she seemed like the best approach to find his brother without something going horribly wrong and his parents would scold him for his crazy ideas, he didn't speak much with them.

If Nathan had been smart, he would have taken the gloves off before he had come in here, but that was another problem that he hadn't considered. He hadn't even thought much about carrying his sword with him, these little details,the things she was picking up, hadn't crossed his mind.

Nathan always walked wherever he went, using the driver that was provided by his family would make him seem rich and he tried to appear as normal as possible when he was town. He wasn't sure why he had lied about his brother, it was easier to tell the truth, why had he grinned? Scott always told him that it was tell when it came to lying, he often smiled a big grin and he was very catious about that when lying to others.

Nathaniel wondered why she was smirking. Had she caught him in a lie or was it something else that he had missed? Man of flight, that was a strange term still for his older brother. " I also have the power of flight, I have been told that was something we had in common," he whispered lowly to her.

Their eyes were the same color.

She seemed to have finished her drink very quickly and he paused when she mentioned the time period. He had been searching for so long that he hadn't paid attention to the small detail that it was over two months. He knew that his brother had made friends with the supers and that he helped the citizens and he was remembered for his flight the most, it wasn't much, it was almost like he had had gotten a replay on what was going on in his mind. He paused and noticed that she had mentioned that he worked a bit before he had disappeared, what type of work was he doing? He heard her mention it being pricey and he knew that was coming, there was one detail that often gave his wealth, nothing in this world was ever free and he had learned that at a young age. "I have this," he said, handing her a small piece of garment, his brother's favorite shirt. " My best friend's name is Lawerence King-, I can have him meet you," he said. He thankfully had a real friend, a human who could correspond for him, an alias, a tool.

He looked at her and knew that she wasn't an investigator or cop and he knew that not everyone would be found alive or in person. " I know a super or two if he needs to be rescued, the information is all that I need," he said. He could rescue his brother himself.

@Mippu

 

[Michale CS]

He agreed quicker than I thought. That meant it was time to move.

See, I had connections, and tips. I knew about a lot more of the Mob's activities than I could, or should, act on. Gone Girl can be pretty persuasive if I do say so myself.

"I told ya all I know. I swear!" The goomba said through chattering teeth, his face and hair covered in a fine rime of frost.

"Not sure I believe ya." I reply. "Maybe you need to cool your heels a little longer. Back in the freezer you go." The freezer at the abandoned restaurant didn't actually work. Well, not when I wasn't powering it. It was a safe way to use my powers, ya see. I just cooled down the freezer itself, the mook isn't in any real danger of dying, but he thinks he is. It works like a charm.

"All right! All right! See, we get a phone call when they're on the move. They tell us which truck to stick close to." He replied.

"Fine, fine. Tell me, boyo, you got a girl?" I prompt him, shaking his collar.

"Yeah, what's it to ya?" He was clearly thrown off by the question.

"Good. When you get that call, you're gonna place one more call. To your gal. Except you won't be calling your gal, you'll be calling this public phone, see? And guess what you'll be saying to me?" I lay out the plan to him. Now, he's probably plenty scared of his boss, but I was providing some ice cold motivation right now.

He paled and shook his head. "No. No way. Serpico will kill me if I tip anyone off."

"Fine. Then you can spend a little more time on ice, and I'll have a certain friend of mine pay your gal a nice little visit. Nice guy. Wears a scarf over his face, has one of those Chinamen hats. And a sword. You can't miss that sword." See, Gone Girl was known for getting answers, but not for offing anyone. Now, I was betting that the little spree my new partner had been on would have spread rumors throughout Serpico's organization. Of course, I'd done my research. This guy was near at least one of the attacks that The Setting Sun had carried out. He might not have been a personal witness, but he knew someone who had been.

"No. No. Come on he'll kill-" He started. I shove him back into the freezer and almost have the door fully closed when he snakes a hand out. I let it close on it just for effect. "Wait! I'll do it. But, how am I gonna tip you off? There's gonna be the other guys listening."

"I know there's three trucks. You'll offer to buy me flowers if it's the truck with the 3 in the plate number. You'll offer to buy me dinner if it's the one that has a D in it. If it's neither of those two, you'll say you'll take me dancing. This is important, because if you steer me wrong and lie to me, me and my friend will find you and your girl, and your ma, and we'll settle up then, but it might take a while. A week, a month. I'll take my time. Capiche?" It was a hollow threat at my end. I knew his mother was still alive - I did do my research - but there was no way I'd carry out Mob justice on this guy. Of course it could still be walking into a trap, but that was a risk that had to be taken, because no one I could reach knew which truck was going to be carrying the money until it was on it's way. It was a sound system, not picking until the last minute. One that counted on all of the backup mooks to be loyal.


It turns out that I was lucky. Again. I got the call, saying 'Baby I have to go to work, but I'll take you dancing to make up for it huh?' and we were on the move. I've got a nice little convertible, and we gunned it out and got ahead of the route. I stood in front of my car, the hood popped up and staring into the engine compartment apparently, until the truck got close.

Then I stepped out and let all of the cold I had built up out of me. It frosted over the road, and up the tires of the truck all the way to the windshield. The truck started skidding out of control, just as a drunken couple stepped out of a bar, the only establishment open this late on this street.

They'd get plowed over if someone didn't act fast, and I was afraid I wasn't fast enough.

Thankfully, I wasn't alone.

@Razilin

Interactions: Nameless Serpico Mook (NPC)
Mentions: The Setting Sun
Locations: Abandoned Restaurant (Freezer Scene), Road near the edge of Geld City (Truck Scene)

 

[Razilin]

A black shadow with a trail of red darted down from the eaves of a nearby building, landed upon the street, looped an arm around each of the drunken couple, and leaped straight up into the air as the truck careened out of control on the ice. It tipped over, crashed on it side, and skidded along. The shadowy figure landed on the upturned door with the drunken couple in his arms, riding the downed vehicle until it finally stopped.

"Get out of here," the Setting Sun whispered to the couple in a voice that was at once soft like a gentle breeze, yet clear as crystal. As they departed, he muttered, "Girl needs to learn some control." He saw the way the ice had formed. He didn't know the first thing about superpowers, but he knew about precision and technique. They'd have to work on that, if they were going to work together. Nevertheless, Gone Girl's plan was working, a few hitches notwithstanding.

Still atop the upturned door, the swordsman drew forth Monohoshizao and slashed the metal barrier free.

"Gone Girl," he called out. "Let's find out what's behind Door Number One...."

 

[Mundane Monster]

[Ivy Grace Little]​

07/01/1948
Wednesday cool night (72F)
Behind Capital Jazz Club

The show had gone without a hitch. Katie had pranced and twirled on that stage as if she wasn't nursing an injury and Ivy marveled at her perseverance through the wooden flats of the stage as she crooned a tune about a lovers meeting under the moonlight. When the show was over, Katie shook hands with her fans and got teary eyed after receiving a bouquet from a regular. Ivy slunk out from under the stage and hurried down the back hallway to the door. Whenever a show ended, she was always anxious to start the most important part of her routine. The whooping ass part.

After she had seen her friend's bruise, Ivy had tried to subtly get information about whether Katie had been seeing anybody, so she could have a clue about who to 'interrogate' first, but Katie had been tight lipped.

"Evening, Ives." A baritone voice called out and Ivy spun around to see Eddy Jones leaning against the backdoor. Edward 'Eddy' Jones was the pianist who often accompanied Katie during performances, so he knew about lip syncing. When Ivy had first met him, she'd shied away and had been extremely suspicious of his altruistic nature but after being around him for so long, she realized that he was one of the few men she knew that didn't have any ulterior motives.

"Good Evening, Mr. Jones." Ivy replied with a small smile. Eddy frowned and pursed his lips in a pout, "Now how do I look calling you Ives, while you're calling me Mr.!" He exclaimed with mock annoyance. "We're the same age Ms. Little."

"It's hard to break a habit, Mr. J--Eddy." Ivy laughed, and shot him one last smile before she slipped out the door.

With no lead on who had hurt Katie, Ivy was forced to wander the alleys looking for people who needed to be taught a lesson.

The streets around Shimmer seemed placid that night, so Alley Cat found herself heading into other neighborhoods. She traveled by shadow and if she ever happened to grace the light, all that would be seen of her was a shadowy streak. Shadow travel hadn't taken her long to master and Ivy figured it was because even when she didn't have powers, she was invisible anyway.

After a bit of leaping from shadow to shadow, Alley Cat found herself on the outskirts of the slums. She didn't frequent these places much, mainly because she was too afraid of running into one of her family members. When her sister had been bringing in money, the Little's had moved to a better home where no one had to share a room. But after her death, they could no longer afford the rent and had to return to their little matchbox house in the slums. Alley Cat had three other siblings, an aunt and two young cousins, as well as her parents, so they were basically living on top of each other. Alley Cat wondered if everyone was doing a bit better.

"Maybe I should visit..." She said to herself, tapping her finger against her chin. "I'm doing better now. I've got a good job, a good pay..." Ivy shook the thoughts out of her head. She had run away. She'd abandoned her family. She couldn't go back no matter how good she was doing. Her family probably still hated her guts for not providing for them. "Back to business, Alley Cat. Let's find someone who needs to be taught a lesson." She grumbled, all feelings of nostalgia gone.

Taking a right down the street, Alley Cat found herself in front of jazz club, The Capital. It looked enticing, but she wasn't there for fun. Plus if she went inside it would be hard to apprehend criminals. Circling around to the back, Alley Cat let out an exasperated groan. Where the hell where all the criminals? Grumbling under her breath, Alley Cat leaned against the alley wall and waited for club to close down. Soon drunk patrons would be stumbling onto the streets and the scum that liked to rob intoxicated people would come out and so would Alley Cat.

Interactions: None
Tagged: @Merlin (indirectly)

 

[Cush Almighty]

When 9:00pm came around Earl and the band were on stage. The band was made up of a Trumpet, Bass, Piano, Drums and Earl's saxophone. When Earl started playing a smile appeared on his face and started to groove with the music. Jazz helped him through life, It's what made feel truly content. It took his mind off things like the people he lost and failed. He forgot his worries when he started playing and when he looked out at the crowd he saw them enjoying the bands sound. This made him feel proud of himself, This is how the crowd looked when his teacher played. As time pass and the crowd enjoyed themselves with liquor and food. They mangled and smoked their tobacco products as the band played taking brakes when they needed them. The band was doing best they ever had and the crowd was pleased. By the end of the show, The crowd wanted an encore and the band delivered without hesitation.

When the show finished The Capital was officially closing and people started to leave out the front door. The band received their pay which was small but after tonight Earl was thinking to demand more. He planned to talk to the bands leader Dave about it first. He would need him to have his back because sadly Earl could be replaced. Earl was good but one guy doesn't make the band that's for sure. Earl went to the back and place his saxophone in its case. He then grabbed his duffle bag which contained his costume and bike and went out the back door. He was tired but wasn't planning to go home anytime soon. He looked around and saw someone leaning on the alley wall. Earl knew it would be smart to change there so he rode his bike a block away from The Capital and placed his stuff behind a dumpster making sure no one was watch. He then quickly changed his clothes becoming Sonorous, A hero wearing a leather jacket, brown pants, gloves, and boots. He then covered his face with a brown scarf and goggles. Earl enjoyed being a superhero. It made him feel like he was actually making a difference in Geld or at least the slums. The slums were already a shitty place and he wasn't going to let some scumbags make it worse.

Sonorous looked at a nearby roof and jumped up to the roof using his power of sound manipulation to propel himself. It created a loud boom when he did so alerting people nearby of his presence. He wanted others to know of his presence so if an evil dourer hear it they would think twice about it but most thought it was nothing. He landed on the roof and walked up to its edge. He looked down at it and saw few cars drive with most parked on the side of the street. People were walking home some he recognized from the club. Some of these people were drunk, an easy target for criminals to rob. Just one punch or whack with a gun the poor bastard would be down. Hopefully, Things wouldn't come to that.

 

[Zarko Straadi]

Emilie:

Setting: Veronica's Office
Wednesday, 3:55 p.m.
Interacting: Veronica Fox ('Rex Caofino')

Equipped with a portfolio containing her favorite designs, along with a couple she'd made after her talk with Miss Fox, Emilie gave herself one last check in her compact mirror, smoothed her dress, and gave her parents a nervous smile. They looked nervous too, but likely for different reasons. Well...here goes, she thought, heading for the door of Veronica's office at a brisk pace. Poise and grace...poise and grace...

Emilie took a deep breath to calm herself as she came through the door. Inside was a stylish, more feminine version of the sort of office a Bogart detective might have used. The tall-backed chair was turned away from her, so she could not see the person sitting in it. "Excuse me, Mr. Caofino? My name is Emilie Jameson..."


Carnelian:

Setting: Tenement building
Wednesday, 8:30 p.m.
Interacting: Leone Kyvak

Carnelian spent the rest of the day trying to solve her secondary costume problem. She'd reconsidered the idea of going to the Jameson woman. Later, perhaps. Having a costume custom-designed and made from scratch would probably be beyond her resources for some time. Maybe if things worked out well with Mr. Himura...

She already had an old women's fencing suit she'd recovered from a trash bin outside The Academy of the Blade, a local fencing school. It was Whites-only, so she would never be able to attend. Not that she really wanted to learn sport fencing with the foil; that was an entirely different thing from the deztreza art of combat with the rapier. For one thing, the latter was intended to be lethal, rather than fun. Still, after settling in Geld, she'd hoped to acquire equipment for sparring and practice, then hopefully a teacher or sparring partner. To that end, she'd kept an eye on the school until they threw out some gear too old and worn-out for their high-end clientele, picked out what she wanted, and took it home to make repairs.

After her encounter with Setting Sun, Carnelian had scoured the thrift stores until she could find a black women's trench coat she could afford. Once she'd gotten it home, she cut off the sleeves and lapels at the seams, then trimmed some fabric off the bottom so that the bottom hem would slant forward from back to front. She re-hemmed it, made a patchwork hood from the extra cloth, and a copy of the alien emblem from her armor's belt buckle from the remaining scraps, to sew to the chest of her fencing suit.

Trying the outfit on, she decided it was passable. Will my armor even work with this? she wondered. She had no earthly idea how her armor made it possible for her to literally change clothes, appearing on her body in a flash of light, then disappearing in the same manner and returning her original clothes to their place. She knew that scientists were able to beam particles of matter through a cyclotron, and people could transmit sound, and more recently, pictures through the air as radio and television signals. She could at least conceive of something like a 'matter televisor' that might somehow combine the two, to transmit an object from a sending chamber to some kind of receiving chamber by disassembling it into its constituent particles and then reassembling them at the receiving end. But to transmit a close-fitting suit onto a human body? What did it do with her clothes? Would the size of her fencing helmet, or its metal-mesh screen, interfere with the process? It seemed likely that a malfunction of such technology could range from quite embarrassing, to fatal.

Her secondary costume presented problems of its own. Such as the logistics of changing into and out of it somewhere other than her apartment, how to have it ready if she needed it in a pinch (her armor was really handy in that regard), what weapon she'd use while wearing it, how to get a proper weapon in the first place, and how not to have costume or weapon found should the police search her apartment.

"Extra! Extra! Masked swordsman unleashes reign of terror! Read all about it!" a small voice echoed up from the streets below. Carnelian felt a chill. There can't be that many 'masked swordsmen' in this town, can there?
She grabbed a quarter and headed downstairs and out onto the sidewalk to find the newsboy. Returning up the stairs to her apartment, she scanned the first paragraphs of the story. Though it was full of lurid details about blood splattered on the walls in sweeping arcs, mangled corpses, and merciless killing, by reading between the lines Carnelian could tell that the whole story wasn't being told. For one thing, only men had been killed. It was not a random massacre for the sake of a massacre. For another, while there was a mention of shots being fired (probably because there had been too many for that detail to be omitted), nothing was said about who was doing the shooting. The writing was couched in a way that a casual reader might just assume it was the Setting Sun, but Carnelian didn't believe that for a minute. Though she'd had only the briefest direct encounter with the man, he had operated with such deliberate artistry in word and deed that she couldn't imagine him just blazing away at people with a firearm instead of wielding the sword that served as the tangible manifestation of his will. With his speed and skill, he didn't need to. The very act of honing such skill in the first place, continuous practice and discipline over years of his life, strongly implied that it was not his way to take the easy path of spraying bullets at his enemies.

If that deduction was correct, then the men he'd killed, or at least some of them, must have been shooting back. Which meant in turn, that the Setting Sun had targeted hangouts for armed men; most likely dens of organized crime. Curiously omitted from the story was any discussion of his motive, despite citation of alleged eyewitness testimony from a survivor at each scene. Said survivors would have had to have been left alive on purpose, probably to convey a message, which had been omitted from the story.

Reaching her floor, she caught a glimpse of a figure going through a door and shutting it behind him; the 'Red' four doors down from her apartment. The Setting Sun started his day at that strike, fighting alongside Black Flag and whatever he calls himself. We will be associated with him, in the eyes of the police and the mob alike. I had better talk with him, she thought, heading for Leone's door. She gave a polite knock. "Sir?" she said, so that he would know it wasn't his hostile next door neighbor at the door.

@Mippu
@AshenAngel

 

[AshenAngel]

Leone was quietly listening to the radio around eight thirty when he began to feel a bit restless. He knew he had to go do some actual work tomorrow down at the docks, but he needed to go do something. With a sigh he turned off his radio and donned his trench coat, planning on walking around the city until he felt like he was ready to sleep. His hand was on the door knob when there was a knock on the other side. He opened it up a crack and frowned slightly when he saw some black woman standing there.

There was a bit of a science behind first impressions when it came to speaking. An accent was simply a tool in the kit. Too much of a Russian accent would most likely make her think ill of him, too little and she'd probably try to extend the conversation past her main purpose. So, using this to his advantage, he kept things noticeable but not like the Lower East Side of New York City. "Who are you and what do you want?" His tone of voice was kept at a neutral inflection, keeping it from sounding too harsh. It was his main way of saying that he didn't especially want or need any sort of friend, but also didn't want an enemy of sorts either.

 

[Boss Megu]

Interaction: @Mysty; Mentioned @Mippu, @LuckycoolHawk9, @AshenAngel ​

Location: Geld Diner; by the counter
July 1st 1948
10:53 AM

Adalberto pouted slightly when that pretty woman; who he thought might have been that gorgeous foxy Veronica, but he could be wrong, Geld was filled with gorgeous people, took away that other handsome man. A girl doesn't like to share huh. He cackled to himself. "Makes sense," Adalberto muttered, close enough for the teen at the counter to hear, "If I had a man that handsome, I wouldn't let him wander too." He winked at the kid and smiled at the blush the other was sporting. Well, well! We had a lucky blusher in our midst.

He then leaned closer with a smirk but before he could say more, the kid beat him to it. "Sorry sir, I'm not on the menu, but I'll be happy to get you that coffee and some pie," the teen said, professionally, well as professional as you can with a heavy blush on your face, "what kind of pie do you want?" Adalberto admired that, and resisted to flirt for now. "Well, I'll have your famous Americano, for starters." He ordered, letting his accent come out with a wink, "And if you have it, some of your lovely, Apple Pie." He added with a contented sigh and watched the teen bustle to get his order and finally placed it in front of him. "If I can't have you, bambino, can I at least, have your name?" He asked with a charming smile as he took a bite of that heavenly apple pie. Hearing the response of the teen, he smirked. "I certainly won't forget that." He told him with a dark smirk. "As long as you stay at this diner, bambino, I'll be certain to drop by at least everyday." He added with a wink and took a sip of his coffee, black like his soul.

Just as he was about to take another bite of his pie, the door was swung open hastily, the sound of the bell jiggling more that it was suppose to. "Adalberto, my friend!" An oddly familiar voice broke into his little bubble of calm and peace. Adalberto looked upward to heaven and wonder why the angel's thought to mess with him in his happy moments. That was rhetorical, don't answer that. "Adalberto, dah-ling~" another voice carried, with a tinge of that New York twang. Spinning in his seat, he gave the teen across the counter an apologetic smile. "Nancy, teroso, you're beauty is a sight to behold as usual!" Adalberto greets with his smile, and couldn't but shiver as if a bug crawled down his back when she kissed him on the cheek. He liked Nancy, really he did, well, it's as much as he liked no brained-bimbos who latched on from one sugar daddy to the other. That and her perfume was thick and overpowering, as usual. Adalberto took a glance at her companion, the one that nearly broke his cover as a Capo.

"And Nikolas, my Grecian friend, out for a stroll with your beloved, I see." He commented as he shook the hand of the shady looking brunetter with a very stylish mustache. "Now, now, Adalberto, you and I both know that jealousy doesn't suit you." The newly named Nikolas teased as he sat beside Adalberto. Adalberto leaned closely to his informant. A few weeks back, there was movement in Cryo Corp that reached all the way to Italy and what they found was fishy. Knowing his famiglia's intense dislike for the human experimentation, especially with children, he asked for Nikolas to keep his ears open. He wasn't as good as Vixen; who he's never met, but Nikolas was as close as one could get in the underground world of Geld.

"How goes my investments, Nikolas? Have they bore fruit?" He asked, as he sipped his coffee. Did you find anything? Nikolas gave a heavy sigh before he responded. "I had warned you about the risks of this investment, my friend." Nikolas started, "But -no, let me continue- but, but! They are showing signs of results." I'm not getting much, but there have been whispers. Adalberto said nothing as Nikolas quickly added, "It seems that we will need some help, though I am certain it will amount to quite a gain for you and I, my friend. You remember our talk last time of warehouses? It is best to get one soon, the sooner, the better." There may be someone who can help you, he is seen by the warehouses at times. Adalberto nodded, not happy but not disappointed. "I'll go ask if there is one available tomorrow, do you remember what time I could take the warehouse manager to dinner, to sweeten the deal?" He asked with a grin. What time do I arrive to meet him? Nikolas sighs yet again, shaking his head in disagreement, "It may be better to arrive in the morn and bring him something then. Dinner is not a good time, too much darkness, too much violence, especially in these days. The heroes are much a nuisance as the problematic thieves and gangs." Arrive early morning, bring your men. Coming at night may make him wary and also the possibility of you getting picked up the nuisances such as heroes.

Adalberto groans. "Of course. For the night is dark and filled with terror, right?" He mocks and Nikolas laughs. "Are you boys done talking about your little business now?" Nancy moans as she played around with the salt shaker, making a slight mess. "Nikolas, bay-bee, I'm hungry, but I want nothing of this cheap stuff." Adalberto narrows his eyes at her rudeness. "Don't you dare mock this diner, Nancy. It has the best pies in all of Geld!" He defends quickly. Nikolas laughs again. "We need to take you to the hospital first, darling, a check up is due you since you've been complaining about your stomach hurting." Here Nikolas gives him a smirk and drags the woman away, while she complains that's she's feeling fine, waving a goodbye at Adalberto.

Adalberto scoffs. Nancy was literally on her death bed and the heavy perfume that Nikolas gifted her was to hide the stench of decay perfectly. Taking a sip of his coffee, he hid his smirk. His poison was slow moving, exactly what Nikolas needed, something to cash her big inheritance without the risk of foul play. Turning back to the abandoned teen, Adalberto smiled. "Sorry about that. Business partners, what can you do?" He told the teen, knowing how weird the coded language would come to some people. As he finished his pie, he asked for the bill, making sure that he left a fairly large tip for the teen. "My name is Adalberto." He told the teen he had managed to befriend.

"If you need anything, anything at all, bambino, talk to anyone in Casa Verde. Tell them, Adalberto Serpico is a friend. They will help you." He told the other, knowing that inhabitants in Geld were wary of Casa Verde, since it was a seemingly posh restaurant, one Adalberto secretly owned and it was also a good cover for anyone that belongs to him and could get help. With a flashy wink, he left the diner with a two fingered salute. The bell above the door rang a little and Adalberto winced at the heat outside. "Cuzzo." He cursed at the heat and walked towards the last place he left the broken down car. By this time, his goons probably fixed it or abandoned it to get him a new ride. Well, they had better.

+

Location: The Warehouses near the Docks
July 2nd 1948
8:27 AM

Adalberto stretched as he stepped out of his new car; the last one had too many bullet holes to save apparently, the Vicenti brothers stepping out with him. Today, they brought the youngest Vicenti; Ignacio, with them, the kid was bouncing, attempting to look menacing like his brother Angelo, but he was failing terribly. Smirking at the kid, Adalberto lead the group towards the empty warehouse that he was promised over the phone yesterday. "Mercurio, what warehouse number was it again?" He called out, looking curiously at all the workers that moved back and forth. The eldest Vicenti pushed his glasses up and Adalberto rolled his eyes at his attempt to look "cool".

"Number 13," Mercurio replied. Frowning, Adalberto began to look around. "Unlucky number, that." Ignacio muttered. Scoffing, Adalberto shook his head. "No such thing." He told the younger man and grinned when he saw the warehouse. "Found it~" he said, and Ignacio quickly made his way to the door. An odd feeling breezed through Adalberto and cried out, "Wait! No, Ignacio, wai---" A resounding BANG was heard the moment Ignacio pulled the door open and he crumbled.

Adalberto and the two brothers quickly hid away behind the tall objects just outside the warehouse and pulled out their guns. He didn't know where the gunmen were and they were seriously outnumbered and clearly outmatched. He wondered if Nikolas betrayed him and shook his head. No, the Grecian wouldn't, especially with his backing coming from Italy. Glaring fiercely at the side, he saw Ignacio's prone body and saw red. He ignored the two brothers cry and ran towards the fallen boy's form, ignoring the bullets raining towards him and hid behind a stock of crates inside the warehouse. "Vaffanculo!" He hissed as he noticed he got shot, in the shoulder.

He exhaled harshly and saw that his breath was green. It was most likely that his eyes turned green too, in effect. He looked from behind the crates and pulled back by the amount of bullets. The sound of bullets were going to attract people soon and that was bad news to him and his men. Adalberto growled and put away his gun, pulling out his knife instead. He hasn't tried it before, but he was certain that he could effectively gas up the entire place with poison so dangerous their enemies were going to die painfully, quickly. Tying his handkerchief over the boy's nose and mouth, not knowing how effective that was, but some protection would be nice, especially since he was literally beside the source of the poison. He was going to call out to the brothers to cover their mouth and nose, but stopped. There was a shadow coming from just outside the warehouse. Was that more men for the ambush?

There were screams of pain coming from outside and Adalberto's eyes widened. What was going on? "Mercurio? Angelo?" He called out, hoping that they were okay. "W-we're fine." Mercurio called back. "I, I think we found your man, Adalberto." Adalberto looked reasonably startled as Angelo came running in, looking faintly green and cradled his younger brother's form gently. He followed the man outside and looked up to the warehouse across from them, and saw that the door was open, when it wasn't awhile ago.

A man with claws stood there, the stench of blood filled the air and all Adalberto could say was, "Hi! The number 13 is unlucky, afterall. I'm Adalberto and I think your hands are covered in blood, are you hurt?" He was rambling and that made him laugh hysterically, he winced as he pulled his shoulder. "I think we should get away from here. As a way of thanks for saving us, I'd like to extend my home for you to hide and use whenever you like." He added, already walking towards their parked car, rushing to avoid the oncoming cops. The workers most likely ran away, not wanting to get hit. "Our car is this way. Hurry, before the polizzia arrives!"

 

[Zarko Straadi]

Carnelian:

Setting: Outside Leone's apartment
Time: Wednesday (Day 1), 8:31 p.m.
Interacting with: Leone

The man inside cracked the door open and looked her over suspiciously. Is his accent less pronounced than usual? she thought. Well, he may want to try to hide it from people he does not know. Carnelian probed her memory of the cat hero at the strike, but couldn't be certain it was the same voice.

"Sorry to bother you. Do you have a black cat? I think it may be stuck in a tree with some dogs trying to catch it. I would like to help," she said.

 

[AshenAngel]

Leone, at his apartment.
Wednesday, Day 1 at 8:31pm
Interacting: Carnelian @Zarko Straadi

Leone arched a brow at her cat question. "No, I don't have any pets. But, where is this unlucky cat? If it were close we'd be able to hear the mutts barking." He was an animal lover, and it showed a bit with his loosening tongue. Though, the fact that there was no barking to be heard had him slightly on edge. A black cat in a bit of trouble, could she be talking about Kot? Ни в коем случае не в аду я позволить, что одной квитанции. "I'd love to help, but I have work tomorrow. Goodnight, miss." And with that he shut the door on the woman.

With his mind working over the events that had just occurred, he felt that maybe staying in would be the smarter idea for the night. Silently he hoped that she was talking about an actual cat, despite the fact that he might have been a bit of an ass about it. He put on some night clothes and fell into an uneasy slumber.

Thursday, April 2nd.
Interacting: Adalberto @Boss Megu

The following morning, he got up, got dressed, grabbed his briefcase with his costume in it, and headed out to face the day. Or more accurately not get crushed by a crate down at the docks. He would never leave his suit and mask at his apartment, there were too many people around that didn't like him all that much. So instead he always took it to the hideaway. He'd just put down his briefcase inside his abandoned warehouse abode when chaos erupted right next door.

He debated changing into his costume for all of a second before a bullet pinged off of the exterior wall. There was a possibility that a bullet could ricochet off and hit one of his fellow workers, and knowing his luck, that worker could be his only friend in America. That pushed Leone to dash out the door in between the onslaughts of fire and slip into the neighboring warehouse. No one seemed to notice his entry, and the darkness of the warehouse kept him concealed from all the parties involved. There were four guys on one side of the fight, and ten on the other.

Considering that one of the four was already down, Leo felt a bit obligated to help the underdogs. He silently went around the warehouse, picking off guys with a simple and effective slash to the throat with his claws, which he had supposed came out when the bullets had first startled him. A bit of blood spattered on his shirt, though it mostly collected on his hands. The last gunman was a bit of a pain. He had seen Leo approaching and took off outside, forcing him to give chase. Catching up wasn't the real problem. Leone's sharp claws raked down the man's arm as he moved the gun to shoot him, causing the guy to scream in pain and drop the weapon. It discharged as it hit the ground, the bullet grazing Leo's inner thigh. That struck a nerve with the Russian, who swiped his claws upwards to tear open the man's throat and then swiped him again across the face to ensure that the guy fell to the side and not into him.

With the chaos taken care of, he slowly made his way towards the door of his warehouse hideaway, his most recent injury posing some immediate problems. He had been noticed by the underdogs, but at this point he didn't have many qualms about leaving with them since he did sort of have a lot of blood on his hands and no getaway plan. He gestured for them to hold on before hustling back into his hideaway and grabbing his briefcase. He pulled the door shut behind him, keeping the blood on his hand from smearing on it by using his coat as a barrier. There was no sign of trouble occurring in his building, so the police wouldn't bother with it. He hurried after this Adalberto character and got in the car. "Blagodaryu. I mean, thanks." He sighed a bit tiredly, a pained expression on his face.

 

[Banana-senpai]

Vixen
Involved: Nathaniel @LuckycoolHawk9 -spoken with|| Emilie @Zarko Straadi -spoken with|| Adalberto @Boss Megu -eavesdropped|| Dashiel @Mysty -eavesdropped​​

Diner
1 July 1948, Wednesday
_____________________________________________________________________________________________​​

The diner got more crowded as Veronica and Nathaniel continued. While she was closely watching him down to the slightest drop of sweat, her ears picked up the talk at the counter, precisely why she chose a booth that was far for regular ears to hear from.

"If I can't have you, bambino, can I at least, have your name?"

Bambino. Italian. It's got to be that Serpico. she thought, her eyes still on Nathaniel. She finally caught the server's name. It was an unusual name, too. Either Serpico senses something's special with the server or he's just really audacious to flirt with a man in broad daylight. Either way, she felt the urge to pull Dashiel away from Serpico. It wasn't because of the talks that Serpico is homosexual since those whispers happen about Europeans a lot and she couldn't care less about it, it was because of his possible connections with mafia. If the Dashiel boy has certain abilities, who knew how mafia would like those abused?

"I also have the power of flight, I have been told that was something we had in common," Nathaniel pointed out in reply to her wondering how he and Aeros were similar. Truth, she acknowledged. It was a statement that came out of him quite naturally. He came from an affluent background and had walked to a small diner to talk to her about a friend's brother, so the story didn't quite click in her mind still. Certainly, there were a good number of open minded individuals in Geld. However, Veronica knew the city like the back of her hand having been born and raised in a little corner of the city between the slums and the small shops and taught its core history by her late historian father who opened an antique shop beside the juice bar where she first learned to eavesdrop. A rich family missing their eldest son was bound to go about in gossip. She put two and two together, giving her the fox grin.

Aeros just might be Nathaniel's brother, but it didn't make sense for Nathaniel to keep it from her. Perhaps he didn't trust her enough. It didn't matter to her what her clients felt about her, but she needed all the information she could get. Heroes are pretty hard to hide and if Aeros and Nathaniel were indeed brothers, she'd be looking for a very high profile person who vanished without a trace. She could very well vanish too, if the culprit was after people with gifts. She guessed Nathaniel didn't understand her part of the risk as much as he saw his part, which was typical of clients. Perhaps he hid the fact in case the culprit is after their family, she thought as she sighed wistfully. She had seen all nooks and crannies of Geld, been to the ritzy places and the dingy places, but she has never met a single person who cared about her beyond either of her jobs.

Just then, another voice caught her attention. "Now, now, Adalberto, you and I both know that jealousy doesn't suit you."

It's that guy. Veronica fought the urge to bite her lip and clench her fist in front of Nathaniel. Something fishy was happening, with this number of high-profile individuals in one place. It couldn't have been a coincidence that Serpico was having a meeting with an informant in a diner, of all places. Something was definitely amiss. She still listened in as Nathaniel went on.

"I have this." Nathaniel handed her a piece of clothing. She was glad he was well-prepared although it wasn't a usual thing. "My best friend's name is Lawrence King, I can have him meet you." That brought Veronica back to her wondering if Aeros and Nathaniel were brothers. Perhaps this Lawrence King asked Nathaniel to meet her since they knew each other previously. "I know a super or two if the information is all that I need."

Yes, but not enough of what I need. She nodded, internally annoyed of how difficult her position is. This better be worth it.

"Nathaniel honey, I came to see you because I've met you before and I know you can be trusted." She finally spoke, straightening up with a casual toss of her coffee-brown hair. "I hope you don't get offended if I ask you to let your friend meet my agent, Rex Caofino instead." She took out a business card from her purse and handed it to him. It had the same address she gave Emilie Jameson earlier. She went on as she put her headscarf back on and took out her sunglasses. "He's free tomorrow morning but will be out for lunch. Anyway, I'll come to you when I get anything, or I'll send Rex to your friend. Payment details for the bank account is on the card."

She stood up and shook his hand gently. "See you soon, sweetie." She smiled before she turned to leave, her steps no longer echoing in the now busy little diner.

Rex V. Caofino's office
_____________________________________________________________________________________________​​

Tracking jobs were Veronica's specialty, but she wasn't so fond of it. She used scent to track people but she didn't want to be out in the afternoon sun that day. Instead, she would ring her sources.

Her office was a studio-type apartment unit that was artfully furnished with mostly red or white. She did say she was fond of the color. On the door was a gold plaque that read "Rex V. Caofino" which if people would take notice, it was an anagram of her pseudonym. Inside, there were posters of her and a few framed pictures among the art pieces (many of which were Japanese) but the most noticeable of those was a small painting of herself with "Rex Caofino". Nobody actually wondered why "they" would have a painting together when photographs were quicker. Of course, the painting was done in that very office, where her power is strongest and she could manipulate people's senses. In that office, she let the artist paint what he thought he saw, Rex and Veronica. The picture showed them standing together smiling, but Veronica was actually seated alone the whole time...

She plopped on her red swivel chair and kicked off her heels, making a few calls to her other contacts on the whereabouts of Aeros. She rang a nurse at a local clinic, a kid who shines shoes and his barber father, a cook and a housekeeper. Some of them knew who she was and others only knew her by an alias. They had no news about Aeros that she didn't already know, but the nurse did hear that there really were talks of Nathaniel's brother missing. Coincidence?

When she rang a newspaper publisher, she finally hit jackpot. She spoke to him for a while, jotting down important details until she heard footsteps nearing her office. She said goodbye and put the phone down just in time for the footsteps to reach her hall. Finally, the door opened.

"Excuse me, Mr. Caofino? My name is Emilie Jameson..."

Veronica turned the chair and smiled, but Emilie would only see Rex. "Come in, miss Jameson."

"You're much younger than we thought." Rex spoke, walking to Emilie and opening the door wider so she could enter. "Not to judge you by your age or anything, I'm sure you're quite professional. I'm sure you also know that we'll need your parents' consent to do this?"

Veronica liked Emilie already. She's cute and she must have been gutsy to come on her own! Plus it also helped that Emilie's dress was absolutely to Veronica's taste. Rex went on. "Will there be any way we could speak with you about commissions with your parents present? We just don't want to get in the way of your education or whatnot."

 

[Zarko Straadi]

Carnelian:

Setting: Outside Leone's apartment
Time: Wednesday (Day 1), 8:31 p.m.

Carnelian stepped back from the slammed door. Either he's not the Cat, or he didn't understand what I was doing. Rather than risk drawing attention, she turned away and started to head back toward her apartment. Too late. The neighbor's door creaked open, and his grizzled face peered out, looking her up and down. "What's the matter, you think a real American ain't good enough for you, girl? So how much do you charge Red spies eh?"

Carnelian's expression turned cold. "You're a Red spy then? That would explain your pseudo-patriotic bluster. You really should try to be less obvious about the spying though."

"You little n***** whore!" the man snarled. He swung the door open, lashed out, and grabbed her by the arm. With a strange sense of calm, Carnelian allowed herself to be dragged inside his apartment, and the door closed behind her.

*whackwhackwhackwhack!thudthumpthudcrunch!crash!ka-thump*

The door opened, and Carnelian slipped out, closing the door on the man's moans of agony and blubbered cusswords. She smoothed a loose strand of hair into place and glided back to her apartment to settle in for the night.

 

[Mysty]

D A S H I E L L
{x} location: diner.
{x} mentioned: --
{x} interactions: Adalberto @Boss Megu

Dashiell tried his best to keep everything strictly professional, he really did. But it was painfully hard to do so when the man had more charisma than he had ever seen in his life.

He was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on not dropping plates.

The accent was to die for, no doubt that this man was Italian. It was hard for Dashiell to tell whether it was the man's personality was just this.. brashly flirtatious, or if he was being flirted with directly, but Dashiell found himself biting the inside of his cheek in a desperate, yet futile attempt to hide the blossoming redness that had permanently made it's way onto the young man's face. "Coming right up, sir." Dashiell managed to choke out when the Italian man had ordered apple pie, mentally smacking himself in the face for allowing his voice to crack like he was some flustered school-girl. For Christ's sake, he was 21!

"If I can't have you, bambino, can I at least have your name?" He had asked, and to Dashiell's relief, he managed to not make a fool of himself again. "My name's Dashiell." He had commented, knowing full well his name sounded odd unless it it was twinged with a French accent, as the name was painfully French, yet sounded odd on American lips.

He sent the man another smile, "Well, sir, I work most week days, so you're always welcome to stop by. Work here gets quite boring, after all." He commented with a little laugh, a sound that was light and airy that didn't dare disrupt the peacefulness of the diner they were in. Dashiell had looked up when he heard someone call out, and decided that now was the time for him to bustle down the counter a little ways, tending to one of the other customers who had asked for more sugar for her coffee. The boy pretended to be focused on his job, but he couldn't help but eavesdrop on the strangely intriguing conversation.

Even if he had been listening, he hid it well, not once looking up even as the conversation seemed to take a stranger undertone. Heroes? Villains? Perhaps the man he had been serving was more than just a charismatic business man. Dashiell didn't look up from what he was doing until Adalberto addressed him again. "Oh, pft, I wouldn't know." Dashiell said with a small giggle, picking up some plates before the other spoke to him again.

Adalberto. He'd be sure to remember that name.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the ma-- Adalberto beat him to it. Brown eyes blinked owlishly, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you, si-- Adalberto," he corrected himself, "I hope to see you around again." He hummed after him, waiting until the other had began to walk away to move to clean up the counter, particular the salt the bimbo had spilled all over the counter, before he glanced at the money left on the counter..

Dashiell almost fell over in cardiac arrest at the sight of that tip.

 

[Zarko Straadi]

Emilie:

Setting: Veronica's Office
Wednesday, 3:56 p.m.
Interacting: Veronica Fox ('Rex Caofino')

The chair swiveled around to reveal a very handsome young man in a suit and bow tie. He looked to be a bit of a dandy, about as remote from the Scary Mafia Thug stereotype Emilie's parents had conjured as it was possible to get.

"Oh...yes, of course! They're out waiting in the car, actually. I can go ask them to come in if you like," Emilie said. This whole thing really did seem to be going better than she had any right to expect, so a part of her began to wonder if perhaps there was something to the Too Good To Be True hypothesis. "Or would you like to see some of my designs first?" She noticed a painting of Mr. Caofino with Veronica Fox. Are they brother and sister?

 

[Boss Megu]

Location: Serpico Tenura; in The Inner Lounge
July 2nd 1948
9:48 AM

The trip from the warehouse to the outskirts of Geld then towards Adalberto's property was not a long one. It was just the bumpy ride made every movement hurt like a, well, like an open gunshot wound on his shoulder. There was no more accurate description. It was just a good thing that he agreed to having the house, well, for it's size, it was a casa signorile, a mansion, but that was beside the point. The point was that it was a good thing to have the house situated closer to Geld and have the open space behind (and beside) it for plantation itself; the rows of tobacco and grapes.

Angelo quickly went out of the car and opened the back seat and took Ignacio and rushed along side Mercurio inside the house. Adalberto hissed through his teeth and went out, beckoning the other man; whose name he didn't know, with him. The men (and women) standing about stared at them, well more of him than them, looking something close to horror and disbelief. Adalberto gave a little chuckle and winced in pain. "Signore Adalberto!" Their live in kitchen staff (well, she was basically the head of everything in his household), Giulia, cried in horror, pushing her basket of tomatoes to closest person beside her. "Stai sanguinando!" You're bleeding. He allowed her to guide him towards the medical wing. "Giulia, sto bene. I'm fine." He attempts to tell her, looking behind him making sure that the man that saved them followed.

The older plump woman gave him a very dark glare and Adalberto shut up, much to the amusement of to the others that had followed. "Chi è lui? Who is man?" She asks in heavily accented English, looking curiously at the other man, who's hands -Adalberto saw- were no longer claws. Adalberto didn't know when his claws turned back into hands, that was a fascinating ability. He didn't answer her and she gave him searching look and after a moment, she nodded grimly, worry lines appearing on her forehead. Right, famiglia matters then, as a civilian, it was safer for her not to know. He gave her a fond smile, smoothing out the lines on her forehead and winced when he moved his shoulder. This prompted Giulia back to action and Adalberto allowed the motherly matron to order everyone about. He turned away from her and saw one section that was supposedly filled with their bigger medical equipment closed off and knew there was movement. That was brothers then. He quickly looked away, something close to regret and frustration showing on his face. Ignacio was even barely 20, if he died now. Well, the siblings were going to be looking for blood like a shark.

Adalberto winced as he allowed his medical team to bustle and rustle around him and his companion. Giulia was attempting to stare down their saviour and direct him to one of the beds. He looked away when the medical personnel assigned began to wrap his torso and shoulders. He allowed them to help put his blazer on his shoulder and beckoned the man that once had claws to follow him. He waved away the concern of many, some in accented English, though most in rapid Italian.

They went deeper into the house and Adalberto stopped in front of double doors in intricate design, obviously showing the clan symbol of his loyalty. He wasn't born a Vicenti, but he was raised in the clan. Glancing at his guest, Adalberto waved him in. He wasn't about to hide what he was. And, the fact he brought him into the lounge that only his trusted entered, Adalberto was making a gamble. Grinning to himself, he opened the liquor cabinet and got two glasses. Despite what happened, Adalberto was certainly not bored. He couldn't be with all this action happening.

"Sorry about Giulia, she's got sons in Messina and she tends to mother everyone around her since they're not here." Adalberto rambled. He poured himself a healthy amount of scotch and drank it. Sighing in relief, he then managed to bring both the glasses and the bottle to the table surrounded by couches while his left arm was in a sling. "Do you drink?" He asks the other, already pouring into the two glasses. "I'm Adalberto Serpico," he introduces himself, because hey, better late than never. "What do I call you, friend?" He asks as he nurses his glass as he sat on the couch, relaxing his muscles. Hearing the response, Adalberto gave him a wry grin. "There have been stories in Italy about the Cryo Corp. None of them are what my bosses approve of. Have you hear of the Vicenti famiglia?" He asks, then shakes his head before the other could reply. "It doesn't matter. The Vicenti are an old mafia clan with a very traditional and rigid set of morals.

"One of the things they don't approve of, is human experimentation." He added, and took a gulp from his glass. "Well, harming children is something they actively fight against, to the point of creating feuds and wars, but human experimentation is something they also do not approve of." He reached for the bottle and pours himself another glass. Aldalberto swirled the glass around and sighed. "And Cryo Corp earned itself an enemy when they touched child experimentation. The last that did that in Palermo, was obliterated. Not a single one from the Serpico famiglia survived, except for the children and one single woman." He laughed and gave a dark grin to the ceiling, trying to block the memories of his past. If his companion was fast, he'd have noticed that his name matched the ones that were massacred. The lone woman was his mother, after all. Years of abuse and torture made his own mama not quite...right.

"We've had stories of children being stolen from the streets, from orphanages and hell, even in parks. All missing, some resurfaced in orphanages, they were different somehow. Strange." At the last word, he faced his companion, meeting his eye. Adalberto knew his fury reached the other, he could feel his poison respond. He knew his eyes turned green. "Some having fangs like wolves, others had scales or gills, but you're the first one I've see with claws."

He slouched on the couch, his eyes growing darker, returning back to his natural brown colour. "The previous head of Crypo was brutally murdered by one of their staff decades back." Here, Adalberto smirked. "But that's just a cover. We found that he was playing around with merging lions and children, while he was observing them in their 'rooms'-" here he made air quotes, "-one of the children escaped from the cage and attacked, fatally injuring him. They shut it down and buried the truth by getting rid of all the children, they killed all those above 3 and threw those younger around the world, selling some, abandoning others in orphanages or the streets." Adalberto met the other's eyes and said, "And since Cryo Corp was conveniently placed here in Geld, well. I saw we team up. That is, if that's what you want." He said with a shrug, wincing at the pain. "I mean, you're a friend of mine for sure. I owe you a great debt, and I'd gladly do anything within in my power should you need anything. I don't want to force you into doing anything." He added. "Especially since you kind of saved our--"

What he said next was cut off by the arrival of one of his men, opening the door with loudly. If his guest flinched, he didn't see because attention was at the soldato he had assigned in the streets of Geld. "Enrique, I have a guest--" he attempted to scold as he relaxed his form, no threat, just an over excited teen. "Capo! A straniero attacked Stefano's bar, he killed everyone! I, he, papa was there last night. He didn't come home. He-he won't come home." The teen added, his eyes suspiciously wet. He approached and gave him a copy of today's paper. Adalberto took it quickly, his eyes widening at the headlines: Masked swordsman unleashes reign of terror. He read through it quickly, his eyes widening at the sight of the mangled bodies and that there shots that rang. He gave it to the newspaper to his guest and narrowed his eyes. While Stefano's bar was indeed a shady one, those of the underground of Geld usually mingled, traded secrets and simply unwound, but then, those of civilian status worked and went to that particular bar. It was one of the little places that allowed immigrants to enter without being asked to leave.

"Your family will never want, Enrique," he assured the boy, softly. A pale imitation of comfort, but that was what he could offer for now. "Tell your mother and your sisters to come to the Tenura, immediately. We don't want them caught in whatever schemes the polizzia will make out of this mess." The boy nodded but hesitated to leave. "Capo, we-we'll get them back, si?" Adalberto wilted and closed his eyes. "We don't know who attacked us, Enrique. But make no mistake, we will, eventually." The teen looked about to argue but thought better and rushed away, eager to leave. The teen looked shocked to see Giulia outside looking very unimpressed. "Enrique, chiamare il mio nipote." Call my nephew. She instructed him and the boy nodded shakily, running to escape the matron.

She then came in, pushing a cart of food and frowning at the opened bottle of scotch on the table. "Bere a metà della giornata, signore?" Drinking in the middle of the day? She commented, looking very much like the Mother Superior who was in charge of the orphanage he owned. "You has NOT eaten today!" She cried, her accent thick in her frustration and took away the bottle but allowed both men to keep their current glass. "I be bringing your, eh, il pranzo, early." She announced. Adalberto looked at her with fondness as she turned to their guest. "You be eating lots!" She instructed the other man firmly. Her gaze on him not leaving until he gave some sort of sign of agreement. "Signore, si prega di fare in modo che si mangia. Egli è pelle e ossa!" Please make sure that he eats. He is but skin and bones! She instructed him with a firm look.

She crouched down and whispered, "Bruno ha sentito sussurri. Egli vi dirà di più." Bruno has heard whispers. Adalberto looked at her with half-lid and nodded. Giulia frowned and then attempted to smile then left, leaving the two men with the heavy news. Adalberto turned to his guest with a sigh. "As gruesome as those news seem, I'm certain that they have nothing to do with Crypo Corp. It sounds like they're personally attacking me." He told his guest, pointing at the newspaper he had handed over. "I'm sorry for dragging you in, my friend. But if you lend me a hand with this menace. I'll help you with anything, anything at all. You have my word." Adalberto let that promise simmer as he glanced at his meal and smiled. Arroz Caldo, a dish from a country in Asia, was something he enjoyed on a bad day. Plus, she gave them chicken lollipop! He loved chicken lollipop!

Happily taking a bite, he glanced at the door at the arrival of Bruno, one of his more senior soldato. "Bruno, come, dine with us." he offered, knowing there was enough of that Arroz Caldo to go around. Bruno, a tougher looking man covered in scars, older than Adalberto by a few years, shook his head. Giulia's brother was one of the minor but loyal capo for the Vicenti's and was killed by a rival mafia, and was raised by Giulia herself alongside his 2 other siblings, and this was on top of her four sons and 2 daughters. Bruno sighed heavily and shifted in his place.

"There 'ave been whispers, Adalberto." He said, looking at the stranger. Adalberto waved his hand. "He is fine. He is a friend of ours." Bruno nodded and looked back down. "The underground is a buzz with news, and not the good kind. There has been constant hiring men from everywhere and are coming to Geld. They say they are here because of made man; an uomo d'onore, has called them, here." Adalberto bit into his chicken lollipop with a narrowed look. "They have been saying that you will be laundering money this Venerdì, Friday." Bruno added, looking up with a worried, confused look. "You...'aven't, right?" He asked, looking worried for being worried.

Adalberto couldn't help the snortle that escaped him. This wouldn't be the first time they asked him about whispers they here underground, knowing his more chaotic nature of not listening to orders or simply causing chaos. But no, this wasn't him this time. Besides, all the funds that were coming from Geld was legal. The shipment of firearms wasn't even for him and his men, they were just passing by. And the brothels he's funded, not much were going to him, he let the women keep most of them. So, really, he had no need to launder money.

"No. No, I have not, Bruno." Adalberto said as he twirled the congee with his soup spoon. "It seems like someone out there is attempting to frame me, goodness knows why." He said with his angry drawl, "And another one seems to have it out for my blood. They attacked Stefano's bar and he was mostly neutral and our associates there were butchered, along with a few of our civilians." Adalberto's eyes flashed green.

He turned to his new friend with a bitter smile. If they want to play with poison, well, Adalberto would be glad to watch them choke in his blood. Let's see them go against him then.

"Do you wish to join the underdogs, friend? We have good wine, and oh! Giulia's cooking."

 

[LuckycoolHawk9]

Nathaniel noticed that the diner was getting more and more crowded as time had gone on and that was something he wasn't too happy about it, he wanted to be alone when he talked to her. It was one thing to be rich and in a dinner eating in town by himself.

It would be another thing that he had been caught with an older woman here.

"I also have the power of flight, I have been told that was something we had in common," Nathaniel pointed out in reply to her wondering how he and Aeros were similar. It was very much a truth that he wouldn't deny answering, some people were ashamed of their powers, but Nathaniel had learned to both fear and embrace them at the same time, he really should have told her the truth, but he wasn't ready to admit that this was his brother that had gone missing, it meant admitting that he had not always been home and that he had vanished without a trace, he wondered why he left, had something gone wrong? Scott, why the hell did he have to be so goddamn secretive? He wondered why he had been scared to tell his brother what he was doing, they shared the same blood and he could keep a secret, it would be easy for him to keep the secret, but he had a feeling he should have told the truth to her, but that also meant sacrifcing his brother's secret identity, he wouldn't do that.


Nathaniel sometimes did things that made no sense, there was a ton of things he had done this morning that contradicted how he would be percieve. One of the first things was not informing anyone where he was going and just leaving, but also leaving clues around the house to inform the staff. He had taken a sword that has been passed down for generations in a violin case and brought it with him to a very peaceful meting between an informant that he had been told was the best at her profession. He was an enginma of things that wouldn't make sense if you stayed with him long enough, he was violent, yet a pacifist,easily angered, yet hard to keep angry. There were things that would make you turn your head. One of the better questions that Nathaniel often posed himself was why had he waited so long? He could have gone any time soon and didn't seem too.

"I have this." Nathaniel handed her a piece of clothing "My best friend's name is Lawrence King, I can have him meet you.". "I know a super or two if the information is all that I need."

He wondered if anyone could find his brother, he could do it easily if he was inclined, he could easily mimick her powers, it would be simple.

Nathaniel had known they had met before, but he hadn't started with his brother and he honestly wondered if he could be trusted at times. He hadn't picked a side in the crazy city of Geld,he could lean either way and that was the truly dangerous thing about him, he was a person who would be constantly b swinging back and forth on issues and he looked at the card and wondered how he was going to go about meeting Rex tomorrow, he needed an excuse to talk to him and the other boy was a great medium, he wondered if there was anything he could do that would bring back his sanity. He was used to linking up the bank accounts and he looked around for a brief moment.

Nathaniel nodded and smiled a little bit. " I will send my friend tomorrow," he said, as she left the dinner and wondered what was going to happen next and that was the honest truth.

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Scott stared at the skyline from the top of a building and wondered what he should do, he couldn't stay away forever, but how would he explain the lost time? He sighed and shrugged, as he flew off, but not before a camera caught his picture.
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Nathaniel knocked on the door to Rex's office. " Mr. Caofino, Veronica sent my friend here, but he's sick, may I come in?" He asked him.

@Mippu

 

[Michale CS]

Still atop the upturned door, the swordsman drew forth Monohoshizao and slashed the metal barrier free.

"Gone Girl," he called out. "Let's find out what's behind Door Number One...."

I saw how fast he moved - that was almost unnatural. I was fixated on just how... exact his movements were, only broken from my reverie when he called out to me. I dashed over, partially skating on the ice I'd formed on the street. I never had problems walking on ice, maybe that was part of my abilities, I don't know. Anyway, when I got there I looked the contents over. There were no enforcers in the back of the truck, and the car full of goombas that was supposed to be following the truck hadn't pulled up yet.

On the face of it, it looked like we'd hit the jackpot, but something about this didn't seem right. Sure, there were boxes that would likely turn out to have money in them in the truck, but...

Something was wrong. Still, crooked money was crooked money and I gathered a few of the shoebox sized metal crates up, flipping one open to reveal that there was indeed money in them.

There was an aching feeling in my gut. Something that said... setup. "Let's get out of here. Take the other boxes, but don't leave any prints on them." I slipped off the knapsack I was carrying and filled it up with the boxes. "I'll make sure these get dumped somewhere and then tip off the GCPD about them." Something about this doesn't feel right, though. Not enough resistance. None really other than the guys who got their bells rung by the truck crashing.

"This ain't right. Should have been more protected. I dunno, this feels like a setup. Like someone wanted us to find this. I'll put it together soon enough, but let's get outta here." I finish packing up and sling the pack over my back again, cinching it up.

Interactions: The Setting Sun
Location: Road near the edge of Geld City

@Razilin

 

[AshenAngel]

Leone, at Serpico Tenura
July 2nd, 9:48am

Leone paid careful attention to where they were going, silently memorizing the route. Just in case something were to happen, he wanted to know where he could disappear to. Getting into a car with complete strangers was simply the lesser of two evils. It was necessary. He kept a firm grip on his briefcase, all to aware of the sticky blood on his hands. It was grossing him out. At the sight of the mansion and the surrounding fields, a frown appeared on his face. He suddenly felt like he had gone in a bit over his head when he decided to help out the underdogs.

He winced as they hit a few more bumps, between his arm and his leg he felt like he was having one of his horribly unlucky weeks. Slowly but steady, he got out of the car and just went with all the commotion. There was no way that he'd be able to fit in with all this... sumasshestviye. Everyone was aware of him. He remained perfectly silent, only shooting a cold glare at the individuals who tried to take his briefcase or rest a guiding hand on him as he trailed along behind this Adalberto character and the woman that vaguely reminded him of the orphanage he grew up in. They arrived in the medical wing, and he couldn't help but feel a bit lost amid the sea of rapid words that he suspected were orders and concern.

He blinked slightly when the woman fixed her gaze on him and gestured to the bed. Ordinarily he would have given some form of argument, but that would required making his Russian accent known, and since his company appeared to be Italian mafia members, something told him that it was best to just go along with it. He watched carefully as they set to work treating his injury. He took the opportunity to clean off his hands and the handle of his briefcase.

When Adalberto stood and gestured for him to follow, Leone did. Seeing the symbol on the doors really settled in the feeling that the man he was trailing along behind was deeply rooted in the criminal world. Итальянская мафия... Лучше всего, чтобы просто оставаться спокойным... He followed the man into the lounge area and sat down heavily, grimacing at the ache that had set in from his injury. A bit of a weary smile appeared on his face when he was offered a drink, and he took it with a nod of gratitude. He didn't especially care that it was still morning. "My name is Leone Kyvak." His accent was held back to a minimum, though it was obviously there. He listened carefully as Adalberto spoke, silently connecting the dots, recognizing the rapid change in eye color, his expression carefully neutral as Cryo Corp was brought up. He felt his stomach tighten up at the notion that an Italian mafia, based in Italy, had a general idea of what he was about.

The other fact that had him feeling a bit lightheaded was the fact that this mafioso kept calling him a friend. He opened up his mouth to give a small warning about how that word could bring about a lot of trouble when coupled with his name, but quite suddenly he was interrupted by a teen barging in on them. He returned to his silent self, waiting for his chance to speak. He silently looked over the article that he was handed, listening to Adalberto address the boy. Masked swordsman? He couldn't help but think of the guy who unintentionally saved him at the strike.

Then Giulia entered with a frustrated cry, causing Leone to look up at her with a somewhat surprised expression as she took away the bottle of scotch and replaced it with food. He blinked at her order to eat, one of his eyebrows quirking up ever so slightly as she said something else in Italian. He quietly took a bite of the food. It brought a small smile to his face despite the events and news that all came along with this morning. Unfortunately that small moment disappeared when Adalberto spoke again. "Friend is a very dangerous term when paired with my name..." He began carefully, his gaze fixed on the food before him.

Before he could continue, a Bruno character entered with word of money laundering. Leone supposed that his acquaintance was having a very problematic day. When the question was turned to him, a frown appeared on his face. "Stop calling me a friend, friends of mine often get harrassed by Russian mercenaries." He spoke a bit crossly, fixing a colder look on Serpico before glancing back at his plate. After some more careful thought, a sigh escaped him. "I can't make any promises in regards to the swordsman or this framer, but I could try and work what channels I have. You do have an ally against Cryo Corp."