The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Roleplay => Serious RP => Topic started by: Shinzuu Katame: Her Tolfy on January 23, 2019, 01:07:16 AM
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The streets of Boston were damp this spring evening. Shinzuu walked down the street solemnly as he normally does, smoking a cigarette from the new package he just bought before the store closed. The rain was light, but large drops could be heard in alleyways. His face was arched down at the floor like usual, having no interest in others around him. However, it seemed that this was not going to be another quiet roam home. The wolf could hear whispers near him, and the mist generated by the whispering voices could be seen in his periphery. Shinzuu clenched his fists a couple times before relaxing them in his pocket, looking around to see if there were any other people, absorbing his surroundings into his mind.
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Hunter rode down the street on his aged scarlet bike, cursing under his breath as every puddle he rode through lept up to meet him, soaking the pant legs of his worn jeans. He had finally finished up his shift at Donte's Gym, having swept the entire place and wiped down every piece of equipment. As soon as he was done locking up for the night, the rain had begun. It wasn't too heavy, but Hunter was irritated by it all the same.
Ahead of him, he noticed a bulky wolf-tiger taking a drag off his cigarette. Hunter felt another flash of irritation at the other fur's slow walking pace. It was a little unreasonable to be angry at someone for walking, but he was in a bad mood. He sped up and moved over to pass by the man on the sidewalk. "On your left," he called impatiently.
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Kitty wiped down tables at the run down Electric Nights bar and nightclub, getting ready to close up. It’s been a slow night and she just wants to go home. As the rain had started, so had the ill mood she’s been working on all day come out. She checked her apron pocket and observed the small pile of cash she’d made in tips that night. Absolutely tragic. Lots of big tables, lots of cheap jerks. She let her eyes wander as she lamented her poor fortune, and saw someone on the sidewalk in front of the bar about to get hit by a bike. She leaned in on the table to watch, half hoping someone else’s night gets ruined too.
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Valentine drew the tattered and worn canvas parka she wore tighter around her shoulders, staring into the night’s sky, the light rain washing some of the grime from her face. But with rain comes illness, or the cardboard box would either leak or collapse. From the alleyway across from Electric Nights, she could see the night-waitress preparing to close. Perhaps, the raccoon thought, she could sleep under the awning or window easel. Or it’d be a good day and there’d be semi-warm food in the trash. As her mind wandered on good thoughts, so too did the vagrant wander onto the sidewalk, planning to duck into Electric Night’s alleyway and rifling through the dumpster when the waitress wasn’t looking.
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Just as Hunter sped up his cycling to pass the guy ahead of him on the sidewalk, a figure stepped out of a nearby alleyway and right into his path. Caught off guard by the other fur's sudden appearance, he braked suddenly and swerved to try to avoid hitting her. Unfortunately, the wet street and the sudden turn were not a good combination. The bike skidded and fishtailed violently, throwing him onto the ground as he narrowly avoided a crash.
Hunter groaned with pain as he smashed onto the curb, his head landing in a dirty puddle. He sat up, trying to recover from his daze and shaking the water from his fur. "Hey, watch where the hell you're going, lady!" he shouted angrily.
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Shinzuu heard the bike speeding up behind him and shifted to his right, but didn't expect it to swerve and slide. He barely caught a glimpse of the driver skidding past him when he instinctively jumped. But he didn't realize how big the bike was and its tires caught his feet as he was coming back down onto the ground, and sent him sliding backwards on the wet ground, knocking into the girl the driver was trying to avoid. Luckily, he had at least gotten his hands out of his pockets to cushion his impact onto the ground so his tailbone didn't hurt as much. At that moment, several hooded figures rushed in from the alleyways. There were 8 of them visible right off the bat. "Grab the girl! We can offer her up to the boss!" Two of the figures went to grab Valentine, one grabbed her feet and the other grabbed her arms. At the same time, three other guys came over to hold Shinzuu down as they lifted her from under his head, and one started frisking his pockets. Another three tried to do the same thing to Hunter.
Shinzuu growled as he lifted his right hand and punched the first guy square in the crotch, causing him to reel back in pain. He then grabbed the pants of the guy lifting Valentine's legs and pulled hard, causing the guy's knees to buckled and gave him the same courtesy, causing him to drop Valentine's legs. From there, the wolf grabbed the frisker's head and slammed it against the third person trying to hold him down. Shinzuu slowly stood up and glared at the one struggling to hold up Valentine by himself, who promptly yelled out, "Hey guys! A little help here!" From the alleyway behind Hunter, three more thugs popped out, two holding lead pipes and one holding a switchblade.
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“Oh great, vagrants on the street, I love Americans.” Muttered Kitty. “Hey Angelo, I’m gonna clock out!” The bartender’s only response is a grunt and she is off! She punched her time card and grabbed a bottle of cheap liquor before running out the back door. She pulled the tarp off of her motorcycle, parked in the way back of the alleyway, and revved it up. She rode out of the alleyway, running over the newcomers emerging from the alley and slamming the bottle of liquor over the head of the grunt holding Valentine, soaking them both in alcohol. “Motorcycle beats furs anytime!” She hooted as her momentum carried her into the street.
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Hunter jumped to his feet in alarm as the group of furs emerged from the alleyway. "What the hell is going on!?" he yelled out, backing off a little.
As three of the strange furs approached him, he held his fists up at the ready and danced back and forth on his feet. Whoever these punks were, he wasn't just gonna lie down for them. As the first guy drew near, hands outstretched to grab Hunter, he drew back and delivered a deadly blow right into the other guy's face. The hooded figure collapsed to the ground, instantly out cold as blood streamed from his nose.
The other two, seeing what happened to their pal, approached Hunter more cautiously. "Yeah, just try something! I'm begging you," he taunted. However, just as the two were closing in on him, all three of them were distracted by the roar of a motorcycle. They stared in amazement as several others were mowed down by somebody.
Taking advamtage of the momentary distraction, Hunter clocked the other two attackers before they could realize what had happened. He gave a grunt of satisfaction as they collapsed.
He looked around uncertainly, not sure what to do next.
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“Eso no es...normal.”
Zahil was sitting in his little, comfortable Audi that he had purchased a few days prior. With one paw holding his head up, he leaned forward and curiously observed a scene unfolding in the alley nearby. He could call the police. It’d be pretty funny, all things accounted for. Or, he could save the time and leave.
Yeah, that would probably be best. Especially considering what he just picked up at a recent drop. Typically, he’d have someone else make the pick up, but he couldn’t risk something ridiculous happening again. The floral shirt wearing Tabaxi would rather not watch every deal end with lead flying, cleaner costs, and a call back to his boss about why his men are all psychotic. Deciding it was time to head home and enjoy a late night margarita, he sighed contently and shook his head at the chaos outside. Turning the key, his car started up steadily and he flicked on his headlights. With two paws on the wheel, he leaned behind him to watch where he was going just in time to hear a loud slosh on his front window.
Frozen in place, he barely turned his head and gazed at the water and dirt mixture that was cast upon his windshield. Looking out the passenger window, he saw the motorcycle whiz by.
“Oh.” Was his only response as he completely turned around and flicked on the wipers, allowing them to clear his view.
Simultaneously, he lowered the passenger side window and nudged his way over, peering out at the motorcyclist who had just smashed someone with a bottle and got his car dirty.
“Gracias idiota.” He called out in an exasperated tone before rolling the window back up and starting to pull out of the parking lot.
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Valentine’s vision went blurry as the bottle of alcohol broke against her assailant’s head. The noxious amber liquid splashed across her face, stinging her eyes. Now-blinded, Valentine panicked and whipped her head backwards, catching the thug holding her square on the nose. She fought out of his grasp and staggered a little ways away from the thug, trying to rub the alcohol from her eyes.
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Hunter saw the feline who'd run over several thugs with her motorcycle struggling to get away from one. Quickly deciding she must be an ally in this brawl, whatever it was about, he dashed forward and delivered a solid punch to the guy's ribcage. He heard the crunching of bone as the hit connected, and felt his own unwrapped knuckles throb with pain, the surface of the skin splitting. He might have overdone that one.
The thug crumpled over at the waist, yowling with pain and clutching his side. Judging by the noise, Hunter figured he must have fractured the guy's ribcage. He stepped away, nursing his bleeding knuckles. "Hey, do you know who these guys are, or what's going on?" he asked the she-cat incredulously.
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“Thanks for the rescue, handsome. I have no idea who these people are, probably cheap muggers.” She winked at Hunter while flipping off the jerk in the Audi. Kitty looked at Valentine. “You alright hun?” She dismounts her motorcycle to offer the newly soaked and stinging fur a rag to wipe her eyes with.
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Hunter cleared his throat, a slightly flustered expression on his face. "Ehm, you're welcome, miss. Just kinda punched whatever was in front of me," he said.
He looked around the sidewalk, his mind racing with confusion. Why had all these thugs just been hiding together, waiting for anyone to pass by? It seemed like an overly large group to just be common muggers. And he seemed to remember one of them mentioning something about "presenting" the female raccoon they had grabbed to their boss. What exactly was going on here?
He walked over to his fallen bicycle, stepping over the unconscious or injured bodies of their attackers (or stepping on them, when he noticed a conscious one). He lifted it back onto its wheels gingerly, inspecting for damage. Miraculously, nobody had landed on it or crushed it during the chaos.
Mounting up onto the bike again, he surveyed the damage around him one more time. "I gotta get home. It's been...weird. Maybe you should call the police and report this," he said uncertainly to the she-cat.
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Whiskers lounged at the bus stop, scrolling through recent postings on the job list. Lot of assassinations this week. She hadn't particularly liked the last set. Something about nearly getting gutted did that to a fox just looking for her paycheck, but it wasn't like they walked away to try it again. It was pretty funny watching the news the next day, too.
The sounds of a scuffle in the nearby alleyway made her ears twitch, even though she didn't look up just yet. 'The last time I peaked around the corner I came away with burned fur. Let them come out,' she thought. Her curiosity peaked, though, with the roar of a motorcycle. Whiskers looked up as the group appeared out on the street. The scuffle, though, wasn't what kept her ears on them.
She smirked and tucked her phone away with a quiet chuckle. Well if that isn't one of the bounties she'd considered. Poor ringtail. Maybe she'd just... happen to take her in later.
Whiskers trotted over, schooling her expression into wide eyed worry and nervousness. "Hey, are you alright? Do you need me to call someone?" she called, putting just a little shakiness in her voice.
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Valentine groped wildly for the rag, and quickly set to wiping her face after finding it. She finally got her eyes clear after a merciful few wipes.
"Y-Yeah. I'm...I'm fine. Just a little shaken." She blinked hard a few times before handing the rag back.
"No...No cops. Okay? I-I'm fine. Really. I can manage." Valentine glanced around, taking stock of who was around. When she spotted the waitress, her heart sunk.
So much for a free meal...
Valentine straightened herself up, trying to look as well-put together as possible. "Thank you all. I would've been killed, or worse, without you." A fearful sorrow began creeping into her voice, as she turned and walked back towards the alleyway she came from.
Get home. Go to bed. James has some drink left.
When the raccoon girl rounded the corner, still visible from the street, what little hope she had left fell away completely.
The fridge box, her home for the past three months, now laid before her as little more than a pile of charred and torn refuse. The mattress she had found was gone, along with the crank radio she managed to...borrow...from the department store.
Valentine dropped to her knees, torn gloves to her face in despair and disbelief.
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Hunter, previously poised to leave, stopped when he noticed the raccoon breaking down next to the alleyway. Looking to the other two next to him with concern, he stepped off his bicycle and walked towards her.
"Uh...hey? You alright there, miss?" he asked uncertainly. It was a stupid question, but what else was he supposed to say? It seemed like this raccoon was probably without a home tonight. It's not like he could do anything about that....
Yes, I can do something about it, he suddenly thought. This wasn't right. Some band of thugs had wrecked everything for her, he couldn't just walk away and ride home. Bad mood or no, he wasn't heartless. And he felt a connection to the other people on the street with him, in a strange way. They'd all been through this violent ordeal together...
Hesitantly, Hunter drew closer to the hunched-over raccoon. "Hey, lady, you got anywhere to sleep tonight? If you want, you could spend the night at my apartment. Maybe I can help you get back on your feet for a little bit," he suggested. "You look like you're in a rough spot."
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Kitty caught the rag and used it to wipe down some blood off of her bike before stowing it back on board. As she focused back in on the people around her, she noticed the handsome fur talking to the raccoon. Seemed like the girl was homeless. Feeling a vague sense of empathy, remembering her days on the street in her youth, she walked over to them. “What part of town do you live in? I can tow you on the bike and she can ride with me.” She patted the motorcycle fondly. It could definitely fit two people, and Kitty looked confident enough in her ability to drag the bike behind her. “And we could probably get Angelo to cook you a hot meal. No, cook everyone a hot meal, you all look terrible!” She laughed. “He’s still inside counting the till. Come in?” She offered to her new friends.
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Shinzuu walked over to see if the other two were okay, ignoring the screaming from a guy in an Audi, but keeping an eye out, just in case he was one of them. As the wolf neared the others, some much taller men emerged from behind them, and one of them pulled out a shotgun and shot it up into the air. Shinzuu didn't flinch, but stopped in place and raised his hands, not knowing if he was the only one armed, and being unable to get a scent of them due to the rain.
The one with the shotgun raised the front of his fedora so his face was showing, "Okay. That's quite enough there, you lot. Those are my boys you just hurt there." Behind the line of six trench coats, there was a lynx that had been part of the group that jumped them, battered, but with angry eyes. The man with the shotgun seemed to be the one in charge and he knelt down next to a couple of his "boys" and examined them a bit. "Over 10 of my locals downed by four nobodies while they were armed. From the looks of it, they'll be out of commission at least a month or two. Now that's just bad for business. But then again..." He snapped his fingers and another behind him pulled out a pistol and shot the three closer to Hunter and Valentine, "... we're not exactly full of health benefits, either, for such failures. Round them up, and get that kid in the Audi. We don't want any snitches getting loose now, do we?"
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Hunter raised his hands in the air, a shot of adrenaline and fear coursing through him as the goons next to him were heartlessly gunned down. He just shot his own men! he thought. He looked over at the fur wielding a shotgun, searching his brain for anything he could say to save his life.
"Hey, listen, we don't want any trouble! Your 'boys' jumped us out of nowhere! We just defended ourselves," he said desperately. "We won't say nothin'! Just let us go home!"
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Valentine glanced at the shotgun-wielding fur and stood. She drew her hood back to reveal her now-tear streaked face and spoke.
“I-If you let them go...I-I’ll come...Willingly. I’m sure w-whoever you’re working for wants me i-in one piece, right?”
Her whole body shook with fear. She knew what hellacious punishment awaited her, but it was best to keep the body count low. Good of the Many and all.
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Kitty eyed the raccoon suspiciously. ‘Did we just save some sort of drug lord? I hate Americans.’ She thought to herself as she puts her arms up in the air. She stayed silent, knowing that with these kinds it’s best to not let your mouth get you in trouble.
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“Oh really now?” He replies out his window as he was flipped off. Turning to face his steering wheel, the feline bore his teeth as he let go of the wheel. His temper may be about to get the best of him. Realizing that, he closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lip. Truth be told, he wasn’t in a hurry, and he couldn’t resist the opportunity to speak his mind. These people were in an area that he had operations running in, were getting into alley scuffles, and had the nerve to flip him off? Unacceptable.
Seconds later, the car door swung open and a floral wearing, well dressed feline stepped out. Crossing his arms, he stared at the gaggle of furs who were causing all the madness, as well as several wounded assailants. Straining his shirt, the feline rubbed a paw along the front of his now slightly dirty car, shaking his head in an unappreciative manner.
“Listen you lil’ shi-“ He stopped speaking as quick as he started upon hearing the shotgun blast. Wincing from the loud sound, the feline covered one ear with a paw and opened his mouth, blinking a few times and squinting as he glared towards the newcomers.
“Jesus Christ, was that really necessary?” He hissed out towards the armed men, not completely shook up by their sudden appearance, but still confused. When the man spoke and shot several of his men, the cartel affiliated Tabaxi nodded, glancing at the now dead figures that were taken out by their own “boss.”
“Ah, yes. Very smart. See, I prefer not to do that. Half of the reason is because I’m not, well, stupid. The other half is because you usually need your workers to be alive to actually work. Amazing, right?” He leaned back on his car, giving a smug smile and offering a middle finger when he was referred to as a kid. Now, the position he found himself in was potentially dangerous if he didn’t handle himself appropriately. He did pay off some officials, but not enough to try his luck on randomly. Simultaneously, he could just give some of his muscle a call, but he really didn’t want this night to end with a cleaners cost estimate and spent lead.
So, when all else fails, bribe.
“Alright, how much will this be? A few hundred or so maybe? Tell you what, if you agree to leave these poor idiots be, I’ll give each of you a grand. Deal?” He said rolling his eyes while reaching into his pocket.
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The one in charge took off his fedora when Valentine offered herself up, revealing a middle-aged tiger, "I do not need nor want you. Whatever the boys said about me wanting you is what they think." He walked up towards the others and looked them through up and down, and as he was about to speak when Zahill started trying to bribe him and his face turned stern as he fired a shot next to the Tabaxi's feet, "You speak out of line again, and it will be your head I shoot next." The other gangsters then raised their guns as the boss reloaded his double-barrel, "Don't think I can't recognize you, Mr. Camillo? I know you are Lopez's little errand boy toy. A few thousand isn't going to pay for these boys whom I've invested TENS of thousands into. You all now inherit their debts and the medical bills of the ones that are still useful to me here." He then turned his gaze around to all of them as he stepped back, "I am a pretty good judge of people's relative backgrounds just from how they move, look and speak. Aside from this little lap dog, I can tell that you're ex-military. From how you carry yourself, I'd say you had some kind of tragedy. And you, little Valentine, are not completely unknown, even if you tried to fade into society. And you, kid, are obviously just a delinquent who wastes money and opportunity. And this little kitty here. Oh, this fair little kitty cat. I know of your other half, and your face is familiar to some of our 'child researchers'. You all come from different walks of life, but you are all worth something. So I will make this very simple deal. I have packages that need delivering to specific people at specific times."
He snapped his fingers and his men frisked each person, taking away any cell phones, and putting any weapons onto the ground, then picked up the injured, some with drawn weapons, and they slowly walked away. "And if you don't make certain checkpoints at those specific times, I will take your life. Your first stop is going to be what used to be Fenway. You have just under an hour to get there. Near the old ticket counter, tell them the Old Man sent you all for the job. They will be waiting. You try anything funny or try to run, you will die. I have more eyes and ears than you can imagine. Oh, and you better get going. It's at least a 40 minute walk." With that last phrase, three of his men opened fire, pelting the motorcycle and Audi with bullets until they were smoking.
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Hunter's jaw clenched with rage at what the menacing old tiger had said. This guy didn't know him, or what his life was like, yet his words still cut deep at the heart of Hunter's insecurities. He didn't want to admit it, but he was thoroughly rattled. He decided not to say anything, for fear of drawing the gang's weapons onto himself again. For now, he figured, they had better do whatever they were told and try not to screw it up.
When the group opened fire yet again, on the vehicles, he stiffened with surprise. They weren't even going to be allowed to drive there?! At least it seemed they had left his bike alone....Hunter didn't know how he'd be able to keep his job without his bike. He tried not to look at it, worrying that the tiger might order it destroyed if he noticed it.
With their orders clear, Hunter turned to the rest of the group. "I guess...we better get going to Fenway," he said reluctantly.
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Kitty makes a good show of being unaffected by all this, but her ears get flatter and flatter to her head, starting with the information about her other half and going completely flat with a hiss at her motorcycle being destroyed. Her beautiful, beautiful motorcycle. Her pride and joy. She stays silent, lest the next thing she loses is her head. But a silent tear drifts to the edge of her eye, barely visible for a moment before being blinked away. She turns and starts walking towards the Fenway without a word, away from their captors and towards their new goal.
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Hunter left his bike behind, on the sidewalk, not daring to pick it up and risk calling attention to it and having it destroyed. He figured he could come pick it up after they made whatever delivery it was that the tiger wanted made.
He jogged along to catch up with the feline bartender who'd moved on ahead of the rest of the group. As he got closer to her, he noticed a solitary tear forming on the side of her face before she hastily cleared it away. She looked awfully upset, with her ears back against her skull and some of the fur on her neck beginning to stand up in agitation. He couldn't blame her; they'd been given a pretty rough deal, and he'd be crying too if it was his motorcycle that got destroyed.
"Hey, you alright there?" he asked as he drew near. He thought to himself that it was a shame to see such a pretty face lined with sadness and anger like that.
For the moment, Hunter did not notice the figure following their group from the shadows across the street.
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Valentine blanched, her face drained of color. She already had her own debts to pay, not to mention the sins of her father. She turned to head towards Fenway, wherever that was. The bartender seemed to know, though. And so Valentine tailed the leaving pair, hanging back far enough to make a getaway if she was blamed.
After all, those men were after her in the beginning.
‘Hell’, she thought, ‘I’d blame me too.’
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“I should never have helped you.” Kitty growled under her breath, paws clenched tightly into fists. It’s obvious that she’s upset, her tone is colored with anger. She silently curses herself for coming out to help these people, who clearly have some sort of ties with the mafia. As they walked she tried to distract herself from her anger by thinking about how long she’ll have to work to get a new motorcycle. Needless to say, that doesn’t work, making her more angry about her situation.
Even with how angry she is, she can tell that the wolf she had been flirting with is just trying to help. She sighed, forcing her paws to unclench, forcing the tension out of her shoulders and putting her ears back up. “Let’s just do this stupid job and get it over with, yeah? I’m Kitty.” She spared a glance at the raccoon, giving her a nod as well.
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Hunter drew back a little in surprise. The bartender had previously been so friendly, he'd hoped they could get along on good terms even if the circumstances were not ideal. But now she seemed to want to keep some distance from him. The loss of that motorcycle sure was hitting her hard...
He nodded. "Sure, yeah. I just wanna get home in one piece too. My name's Hunter," he replied. He kept his face in a mask of indifference, not wanting to visibly register the fact that he felt hurt.
He looked over to the raccoon as well. "You're Valentine, right?" he asked. "I heard the asshole back there call you that. How do you two know eachother, exactly?" He kept his tone innocently questioning, but in his eyes was a faint glimmer of suspicion. It was odd for the crime boss to know her by name. They must have SOME connection, for that to be the case.
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“Hm. I am going to wipe the floor with your skulls.”
Were the only words that came out of Zahil’s maw when he was shot at. Looking down, he spotted the mix of dirt and gravel that was flung up from the lead, and onto his shoes. With an eye twitch, he struggled to keep a cool and collected composure. The mention of his boss and the sheer arrogance of the tiger pushed the Tabaxi to believe that he was no longer dealing with a street gang. A mafia, maybe? A group he hadn’t caught wind of yet? Rolling his eyes, Zahil realized that either way, this was going to be a serious mess in need of attention when this was all said and done.
He wanted to speak again, and test his luck against these unknown people. Instead, he settled with raising one single paw and offering his middle finger the entire time he spoke. Placing his free paw on his collar, the feline allowed himself to be frisked, but cringed once his engraved handgun was place on the floor. This, he could tolerate, but then his brand new vehicle was torn to pieces.
Gazing back at it incredulously, he laughed in a somewhat dark manner. Now, he was angry. Of course, he couldn’t show that, at risk of being shot. Needless to say, when he was free, there would be hell to pay.
Watching the group start to turn and leave, Zahil waited patiently as his car was smoldering behind him. With steady eyes, he noticed someone creeping around the area. Not directly involved, but close enough to be seen. With a sigh of anger, he glanced down at his weapon, awaiting the cue to be able to retrieve it. He will be damned if he leaves his prized possession behind.
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As soon as the gangsters were out of sight and earshot, Shinzuu bent over and picked up his Beretta. The wolf has spent enough time around Boston's scum, as well as overseas, to know that this tiger was no nobody. From how he carried himself, his speech, and how he mentioned spending tens of thousands on each of the lesser street thugs they just dealt with, he could tell, "He's international mafioso for sure. He's no head honcho, but he has a bigger influence than any of the gangs in this city. I hate to have to do what I'm told by someone like that, but I don't think we have much of a choice." Shinzuu kept his solemn face, but his blood was boiling from the disdain of being made a delivery boy, and having to be with other people, too. He had been extremely introverted and refused to interact or talk to anyone if it was unnecessary, and avoided everyone like the plague ever since his wife and child were murdered. The wolf made very little talk, "Don't bother going anywhere else. That bastard knows may have said it takes at least 40 minutes to walk there, but he never gave us a specific time." He looked at his watch, wiping the rain water from it as it glowed, "It's 10:30pm. I'm more than willing to bet he wants us there by 11, or he'll kill us."
Shinzuu took a huge drag, finishing off the last half of his cigarette in one inhale and spat it out as he exhaled and broke into a light jog. While the wolf carried his Beretta with him, he only had one magazine on him, and he was sure many gangs were already out at this time, and gunfire would attract more trouble, so he kept it holstered and clipped in. "If you're not good at running, start now. We'll have to at least jog there, assuming no one tries to stop us. And no guns. We don't need any more trouble than we already have."
In front of the old, decrepit Fenway Park, behind the ticket booth, Whisker was standing still at gunpoint, having been caught pickpocketing the wrong mafioso. She was to be added to the group, but unlike the rest of them, she at least had some kind of roof keeping her dry. "Okay, little missy. Your new 'friends' should be here within the 20 minutes. If they're not, you're doing this on your own." Three weasels stood around her with pistols drawn, and a fourth that sat in the shadows behind them, up against one of the pillars with a Thompson cradles in his arms almost like a baby.
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Hunter nodded to the wolf and picked up his pace, entering a swift jog. He had a decent level of cardio, and figured he'd be able to make good time. He was familiar with the route to old Fenway as well, having lived in this part of the city for his whole life.
"Hey, I'm with you. Let's get going ASAP. That guy in the fedora seemed like real trouble," he said. "What's your name, by the way? I'm Hunter. We may as well have something to call each other if we're going to do a job together." Hunter didn't exactly like being forced into some delivery racket at gunpoint, but he figured he should make the most of it and try to get along with everyone else. At the very least, it would help prevent fights from breaking out during the job.
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Kitty rolls her eyes. “Mr. Bossy know it all, seems to me.” She starts jogging along as well. She keeps fairly fit, but the annoyance rolls off of her in waves. “I don’t carry a gun, because I’m not a part of all this like you seem to be. I just want to go to work, and go home, and live my life.” She looks at Hunter. He seems to also be a regular person, like her. But the raccoon and the gun bearing wolf are some sort of trouble. Not even to mention the Audi driving jerk. What a day.
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Whiskers watched the four assailants with a closed, wary expression. This was why she didn't work with ties. It always ended in this sort of crap.
She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "I expect this to be the only job. I don't like playing around with mobs," she said. Her tail brushed along the wall at the same rate she scanned the room. Any other jobs and there'd have to be paid a hell of a lot to make this crap worth it.
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Valentine, after a time, answered Hunter's question. "I...don't know. He's not familiar to me. But, he's probably one of my dad's friends' cohorts. I'm not surprised. Dad's 'friends' cost me a lot of years." She kept pace with the two, her face contorted into a sort of extreme annoyance. Valentine REALLY didn't want to be involved.
-
Hunter considered Valentine's reply. So, she did have some connection to the mob after all, through her family. However, she seemed genuinely upset by the whole ordeal, wanting nothing to do with the crime boss who'd ordered them all around. He supposed it would be unjustified to cast too much suspicion on her, as she seemed to be roped into this by chance just like the rest of the group.
"Hm. Well if you can remember anything about him that might help us get out of this mess, let us know," he said in reply.
They were getting close to old Fenway, now. Just a few more turns in the road and they'd make it there. He took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time, noting that it had been about 25 minutes since they'd been given their assignment. Looked like they were making good time.
-
“Maybe you should have a sign on you that says ‘don’t help me, I’m tied with the mob!’ for the next time you’re getting mugged and us innocent people want to be the good guy.” She snarled at the raccoon. She knows she’s being a jerk, but she can’t stop herself. This was all very upsetting. The Fenway looms in front of them. She peeked over at Huner’s phone for the time. Hopefully this would be over soon.
-
Hunter's ears pricked at Kitty's harsh words. It seemed unfair to blame Valentine for the situation, but then again he wasn't completely sure about her either. He decided to remain silent and just keep moving.
When he noticed Kitty peeking over at his cell, he held it up so it was more visble to her. "We should make it on time, although we're cutting it a little close," he affirmed.
-
When they arrived at Fenway Park, Shinzuu was huffing a bit. In the years since he moved here, he's done nothing but sulk, eat sleep and workout, but he never did any cardio since his discharge. Even when in the military, he avoided it like the plague. Already kinda regretting it in the back of his mind right now. There, they saw the one girl standing there with four others around her, "I take it she's the one joining us?" The weasel with the Thompson smirked as he got up. He was in a pin-striped suit and had the most devilish smile, "Indeed. This one was caught pickpocketing one of our capos, so she'll be sharing your debts." He took out a phone and texted someone before picking up two backpacks that were in the dilapidated ticket booth. He then pressed a button on top of each one and tossed it towards the group just before giving Whiskers a boot in the fanny so that she would be closer to them. "As you can see, the timer is running on these packs. You will need to reach each checkpoint together to get the timer reset, otherwise, they set off a signal that will instantly notify any nearby hitmen near you." Before any of them could say anything, he raised his phone and snapped a bright picture of them all, "And you're ALL expected to be there. No more and no less. Boston Harbor, Dock 23 is your next destination. You're lucky to get here early enough to have the extra half hour we were originally going to give you. And don't bother trying anything funny. We know a couple of you are armed, but each point is heavily guarded. You'll be outmatched and outgunned at least 20 to 1." The weasel snapped his fingers and he and his lackeys backed into the shadows of the rundown baseball stadium, guns pointed at the ready, and eventually disappeared from earshot.
-
"What kind of messed up job is this?" Hunter snorted with derision once the weasel and his lackies had left them. "Checkpoints and timers? Is this some kind of sick game to them?"
Shaking his head, he bent and picked up one of the backpacks, slinging it over his shoulder. "I guess we better get a move on. We don't have much of a choice," he said.
-
“It feels like they think this is a game.” Kitty shrugged the other backpack on. She sure wasn’t letting it out of her sight. “Let’s go.” She looked at her teammates, sizing them up one more time before getting into a light jog.
-
Shinzuu kept an eye on the weasels until they left, and was surprised that the others decided to take up the bags. He mentally shrugged and went with the group. It was maybe a 3-hour walk under regular conditions, but since the fall, one of the skyscrapers that collapsed from poor maintenance turned into a bit of a land-bridge. Add that on top of the fact that there's almost never any traffic in Boston after 7pm, a direct shot would run 30 minutes. But knowing their new "employers" something was probably going to get in the way. "If we just head straight east to Castle Point, we should hopefully make the trip in 30 minutes..."
-
Hunter nodded. That'd be the most direct path, and he was hoping for them to get things done as quickly as possible.
"Sounds good to me. Let's hit the road," he said, matching Kitty's light jogging pace.
-
The feline followed the gaggle of people quietly, and rather slowly. He didn’t seem to be in any rush, more so out of spite than anything else. With his handgun tucked firmly in the waistband of his pants, he glanced around his surroundings and sighed. The feline was angry, but not in the most intense sense of the word. More like, woken up by an alarm four hours early angry.
He had allies close by, how close? He didn’t really know. It would probably take much more time running to seek help rather than use his usual method, ask one of the new guys to drive him from place to place, or just make a phone call. Both of those options seemed to be out of the question for now, however.
Zahil has paid little attention to the others who were also a part of this, up until this point. He saw them jog at a moderate pace up ahead and questioned their character. Zahil knew that he was just an unlucky bystander, but them? At least one had to have ties with the gangsters they encountered before. Some seemed a bit more innocent, while others appeared to be more easily agitated; particularly the woman who splattered mud on his car. And hit someone with a bottle. From a motorcycle. Now that he thought about it, that was pretty cool to watch. Why couldn’t his personal assistant do that? The only good thing his assistant was good for was cooking and driving, well, sometimes.
Speaking of his people, they’d probably start to suspect something happened if he wasn’t heard from soon. Should they learn the mafia had been harassing him, it would most certainly make for an interesting topic of discussion between the higher ups. Still lost in his thoughts and trying to make sense of all this, he absentmindedly picked up his pace to catch up as the group finished up a conversation with some more gangsters. Now, the group had bags and another person joining the party. Crossing his arms as he strolled closer, he heard something about a timer and hitmen. That probably wasn’t good.
When the figures vanished behind the stadium, Zahil spoke to the group for the first time;
“So, could someone perhaps, explain this? Because from my perspective, it appears as though I’ve been brought into someone else’s mess, and I really hate dealing with the Mafia. First one who admits to being the cause of this gets an all expense paid trip to Bolivia.” He said with a smile that was as fake as could be, reflecting a sense of agitation as he fiddled with the handgun tucked into his pants. When two of the group started to run towards their next objective, he dropped his smile and cursed a bit. More running? Clenching and unclenching his fist, he swiftly pointed a finger at the nearest person, who happened to be the female who just got booted into the group.
“I let my assistant to do some paperwork unsupervised, and told him I’d be back by twelve. If he screws it up because I didn’t make it back on time, I’m burning your house down. Then I’m burning down the last house you had, just for fun.”
With that, he shook his hand and started to swiftly walk after the other two.
-
Kitty was trying not to antagonize all these mafia people, but at the tabaxi’s words, she can’t help herself. She mimed a fun with her fingers. “Hi there, I’m Mr. Fur and I think you guys have ties with the mafia. It certainly couldn’t be me, just casually driving around expensive cars, with a fancy gun, threatening to have my assistant burn people’s houses down?” Her voice lowered in an obvious attempt to mock him before she returns to her normal voice. “You know what’s going on as well as any of us do. We’re taking these stupid bags to Boston Harbor, where they’ll give us another location. Now are you coming? Or are you going to sulk behind and get us all killed?” She ran a paw through her fur, flipping it out of her intense green eyes.
“I’m Kitty, that’s Hunter, could the rest of you at least make up fake names for us to call you if you don’t want us to know your real names?”
-
Shinzuu was just getting irritated with Zahil's little ramblings, almost as much as Kitty, "You're a victim of circumstance: Wrong place, wrong time. You're just a lowly gangster who has no scope of what the real mafioso world is like. And no pun intended, but don't expect those guys back there to let you weasel out of this." He then picked up his walking pace a bit to catch up to the other two. His leg height allowed him to catch up pretty quickly without having to job, "My name's Shinzuu, retired Marine. My old unit used to call me the 'Black Kat' or 'Kat' because they could never pronounce my last name. Pleased to make your acquaintance. You don't have to waste your energy running. It's a 30 minute walk with a 2-hour time limit."
A few minutes later, Zahil's phone went off, showing a text message directly from Lopez:
I received a message on what happened. There's nothing I can do for you now that you're a part of this. Don't bother calling anyone else until you're let go from this. No one is going to help you. You're in shit that can shut us down for good, you stupid cabron.
-
Whisker's flattened ears and permanent scowl twitched into a snarl whenever she heard these... Brats talk. She dealt with a lot of shit on her jobs, but getting roped into a mob run was pretty high on her list of reasons to shoot other people. And just look at how open they were about it! She'd take Cabibi and Shori anyday, and they had sent her assassinated two OTHER assassins. At least they paid...
The Tabaxi didn't impress her much. She raised an eyebrow. "Oh he's free to. It'd be more useful than his complaining," She said, readjusting her pack and opening her journal to take another peak at her map of safe houses near the destination. It'd give her a better idea of where could be off to.
She glanced at Shizuu when he spoke up. Marine, huh? Guess Lili was right. There really was no right group to run with.
Her ears twitched a hint when she combed the open jobs she'd written down. On second thought, maybe they could do something decent and point her toward the flee market. She needed to get a convincing set of fake rings for her upcoming jobs...
-
The feline felt his maw twitch as he heard the remakes from a large majority of the party. Worse, he got a text on his phone from the boss. It didn’t discourage him too much, but it still hurt a bit. Then again, what was he supposed to expect would happen? He had been in situations like this before, but it still sucked regardless. When he got out of this, he’d be able to go back to doing whatever he was doing before this mess dragged him in. Easy.
All he had to do was play by the rules and do what he was told. The Tabaxi cringed a bit.
Alright, maybe not so easy.
Pressing his knuckles against his palms, he popped the joints quietly and sighed. This was going to be quite an adventure. At least this would give him some ideas and experience for his future career. Glancing over at the one with a book, he eyed the pages for a second but spotted nothing of importance to himself. Granted, he also couldn’t see them clearly from the distance he was at. Facing the one woman who just mocked him, he nodded and gave a small laugh.
“Oh, sorry señora, should I be more polite? What are you gonna do, now that you seem to be lacking your tools of trade? Glare me to death?” He pointed a finger back over in the direction they came, with the smoldering vehicles.
“I can afford to replace my losses. Can you?” He said with a knowing grin and mocking finger gun wave before shoving his hands in his pockets. Slowly, he glanced over at the one who referred to himself as Kat. A veteran would know how to fight, hopefully. Zahil had accomplices that we’re veterans, not American veterans of course, and they were pretty thorough in combat. Maybe this one would be the same.
Scowling, the Tabaxi still took the hint and decided to walk alongside the group rather than far behind. The only way out was through, and the quickest way through may very well be together.
“Camillo or Zahil is what they call me back home, Energúmeno is what some call me here. Don’t ask what it means, I guarantee I’ll have the opportunity to show you soon enough.” He said with a grim smirk, trailing a finger over his handgun. At this point, he was just waiting for an opportunity to exert his anger.
-
Kitty did her best to hide how the comment about affording losses stings her. “Oh, go to hell. Let’s go. I’d rather be early than late.” She bounced on her paws, obviously antsy to get going, though she does slow back down. “I just want this over with.” She said flatly. “I have work tomorrow. And I have stuff to do...”
-
Valentine had kept quiet after Kitty's outburst, but she kept pace with minimal issue. Every once in a while, she would stop and catch her breath. This much physical exertion without food was very draining.
-
When the group arrived at Castle Point, it had already been about 15 minutes, with only a 15 minute walk across the collapsed skyscraper left. However, there was a slight problem. As they approached, there was a large group of thugs waiting there. It was the East Side Wankers, the Scottish gang that controlled the coastal areas of Boston. "Hold on there, lads and lasses! If ye be wanting to cross our land. You're going ta need ta pay the toll! And the toll be $100,000 per head!" Shinzuu sighed, "We don't have that kind of money on hand. We need to cross so we can finish delivering a couple packages for some mafiosos. Can you just let us pass like you normally do during the day?" He hoped they were going to fight. The wolf could count at least 20 guys in front of them, and he only has one magazine for his gun since he wasn't expecting to be out on a stroll past getting smokes. Even if he was in his prime and got a headshot on every single one of them, that'd only kill 10 of them, and from what he heard, the ESW boasted almost 1,000 members, city-wide, which usually meant a good portion was in the area.
-
“Are you crazy?!” Kitty hissed under her breath. “Don’t tell them that! We’ll go around!” She looked around at the rest of her companions with panicked eyes. “We aren’t going to fight them, right???”
-
Shinzuu snorted, "We don't really have a choice. Even if we ran from our start point, it's 4 hours going the other route. This is the only way to make it in time to begin with."
-
Whiskers walked with the group in silence, reading through her journal with an ear on her companions and an eye on the road. This was, hopefully, just a detour. She had business to do that actually had a reward at the end of it, thank you.
Her nose twitched as they came up on the group, book getting tucked in the pocket of her pants. How lovely. Gang members with a price. And I'd been hoping to end this chore, she thought with a frustrated sniff. Listening, though, made her narrow her eyes. For one, everytime someone mentioned the mob out loud, she wrinkled her nose and swallowed the urge to smack them. They apparently WANTED to get targeted by the other groups! The only thing that stopped her was that it'd mean less baggage.
When they argued about going around though? That struck her as odd. Those mafia members weren't dumb... Okay, maybe they were, but not like that. Whatever this cargo was was valuable to them. Unless they were in cahoots with the ESW. they'd want it delivered properly. No one wanted to lose money. That they sent the group this way meant there WAS another way, even if it wasn't obvious. Or they were looking for a show. Either way, Whiskers was not playing chicken with this group.
She elbowed Shinzuu hard enough to bruise and get his attention. She put on a sugary tone. "Oh, don't mind us. We'll be on our way, sweethearts. Please tell Casian hello for me, though. It's so much nicer around here anymore than when the Winter Warnings claimed the terf," she said, motioning they take an alleyway. Never discuss options in front of enemy.
-
The feline stood his ground when the group encountered a new group of fellows. Panting lightly from the jog, he grimly appreciated his morning runs that he was partial to. However, having been given enough time to grow more angry and contemplate his current situation, livid would be an understatement when explaining Zahil at this moment.
“Oh, oh really now. That’s fine, yes, I’ll pay. Because, I keep ten grand in my back pocket at all times. Here, let me grab it.” Showing just enough restraint to not grab his handgun, he gingerly reached back around him for a moment before showing his paw again, proudly exposing his middle finger towards the thugs with a dull smile. Being behind Kitty, he felt pretty confident in the sense that the thugs wouldn’t risk shooting at him while she eyed the group and proposed an alternate solution.
Now, the Tabaxi would have loved to have a Mexican stand-off, unfortunately, his inner subconscious compelled him to actually agree with someone for once. Grumbling and sighing, the feline rolled his eyes and nodded towards Kitty.
“Fffff... Yeah, fine, whatever. I’ll avoid testing my luck this time I guess- wait, wait a minute.” The Tabaxi abruptly stopped his original sentence and crouched a bit, squinting his eyes at the thugs. Something wasn’t right about them, or, more likely, he recognized something about them. Then it dawned on him; one of his guards told him a story about an unlucky guy he throttled in a bar a while back, kept talking about his “lads” too much apparently. Broke his nose and scarred up his face. He later harassed the guy by calling him some kind of insulting name. Oh man, what did they call him again? Zahil bit his lip and thought before he nearly beamed with recognition, smiling broadly as another opportunity to release his anger presented itself.
So, he stood up and opened his maw as he began the statement that may or may not cause a serious problem within the next few seconds with a loud and deliberate voice.
“Oh hey! How was your drink the other day, Carech-“
-
Shinzuu grumbled when he was elbowed, resisting the urge to slap the girl.
As Zahil spoke, one of the gang members briskly walked over and slugged him in the face. "Aye. That was quite refreshing. Lads! This be the ******** that sucker punched me the other day!" A couple of the others came forward with their arms crossed, "Then I guess this one doesn't get to pass at all. As fer the rest of ya, if ye don' have money, we can settle with the girls instead..."