The Mafia Queen (IC)

[Infected Mushroom]

reserved for announcements

OOC is at this location.

^

[Infected Mushroom]

Belgrazi Mansion
New York Countryside

Plush red carpets covered the floors of the great hall. The ceiling and dimensions were impractically high; a representation of power gone mad. The walls were decorated with elegant oil paintings, many of them were historical originals worth a small fortune.

Two dozen White Guards guarded the room, aligned across two sides of walls. These professional elites stood still and straight as statues with stone cold faces; their long brown rifles mounted against their shoulders. Their uniforms were identical: white jackets, red cap, blue pants, military boots.

In the very centre of the room…

Roughly two dozen individuals stood in a horizontal line up. They were deathly quiet and their expressions were quite grim as they awaited judgement. All of them were dressed in dark suits and ties, a few of them had tipped fedora hats on their heads.

They were all thinking along the same lines.

She promised amnesty. She cannot afford to get rid of all of us right? We run a solid portion of New York.

They nervously faced a high table, which stood elevated a few inches above the ground, behind which stood two great mahogany doors.

“The High Table” it was literally called. There were several of these in the great mansions of the United Mafia. It was where you addressed the royalty. Suddenly, the mahogany doors behind the table opened.

There was a collective shudder…

The five highest of rankers entered the room and filled the panel. In the centre was the queen who ran everything. Mafia Queen Aurora Von Staffen was a tall thin woman with long gold hair; her facial features were symmetrical and her eyes were large, bright and purple. She couldn’t be older than 26 and she was wearing an elegant white and black dress for the occasion.

To her left, stood Carlos Lucchesi, the right hand of the Mafia Queen and her principal advisor. A highly skilled former hitman, he had been serving the Von Staffen family since the reign of Aurora’s father.

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” all of the assembled Mafia members yelled out as they bowed ceremoniously and nervously.

The Mafia Queen sat down, as did Lucchesi and the rest. Her face was very difficult to read; there was no expression.

“My subjects,” she declared. “I have given the matter some thought. In consideration of all of the relevant factors… I have decided to give you all a pardon. This is not a decision I make lightly.”

“Your highness! Thank you your highness! THANK YOU!...”

The Queen raised her hand, as if to silence them. They got the queue.

“In an ordinary situation I would have executed all of you for treason, stealing from the Mafia and from your Queen is unacceptable,” she continued. “However, summer is coming up and I feel well-predisposed. I did take into consideration, all of your contributions to the family.”

There was a collective sign of relief amongst the assembled captains. They had half-expected the sometimes impulsive Queen to change her mind.

As her eyes travelled across the group, she listed in no particular order:
“Feroch you served my father during the Casterlain War,” she said. “Colombo you’ve caused a considerable increase in gains on the west coast. There are other contributions I considered. Not all of you are exceptional of course but today I’m feeling merciful.”

“Your highness! Thank you your highness! THANK YOU!...”

The Mafia Queen paused as a sudden thought seemed to occur to her.
“Well…” she said suddenly, breaking the tense silence. “I will require all of you to apologize once more, and pledge once more your unconditional loyalty to me. After all of that is done, we shall have a feast.”

And with that said, the Mafia Queen stood up from behind the High Table. Luchessi and the high rankers glared at the assembled Mafia members in the middle of the room, looking ominously at them.

There was a procedure and a protocol for this.

The assembled mobsters formed an improvised line. One by one they approached and knelt in front of Aurora and the High Table. There was a turn order, each person took maybe as long as seven minutes.

They gave (one by one) very detailed apologies and promised once more that they would be eternally loyal. Seeing that their lives were on the line, the slippery Mafia members wasted no effort in making it undoubtedly clear how sorry, misguided, and stupid they were.

Aurora said nothing as she stood there, still as a statue and considering the subjects that knelt in her presence.

When each member was finished, they recited a very long, ceremonial pledge of eternal loyalty. They had given this pledge before of course, many years ago when the young Aurora first assumed the throne of the United Mafia after her father’s untimely death. It was a complete disgrace that they had to recite it again. It took a very long time to get through all of the members, but eventually they were all done.

Aurora sat back down at the table.

“GOOD!” she said as she clapped her hands together excitedly. “Enough of this unpleasantness. Let bygones be bygones! Now, since you are all my honoured guests, it’s time for the feast!”

---

The dining hall was a display of sheer opulence.

Belgrazi Mansion was not Aurora’s only mansion in New York but it was definitely one of the biggest.

As the sovereign of a powerful underworld dynasty, Aurora’s organization raked in billions every year and she could afford to live in great luxury. Hundreds of thousands of gangsters were sworn to serve her and her family. Everyone from politicians to judges to cops were under the United Mafia’s payroll. It was a golden time. The pardoned gangsters sat together at the end of a large rectangular table. There were several.

Aurora sat at the front, with Luchessi and the rest of the High Table. White Guards stood, still as statues along the walls, their rifles held straight up against their shoulders.

All the dinner cutlery were made of the finest china from the far east; the goblets were made of fine gold.

A servant had gone around the room and poured fine red wine into the goblets; it was one of Aurora’s favourites, Masseto red (straight from Tuscany).

“A toast then,” Aurora said from the front as she raised her goblets.

Her subordinates mirrored her. “To the United Mafia,” she said. “And to ever lasting peace.”

“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!” the gangsters yelled out in unison as they drank the fine wine.

Aurora did not drink (and neither did those at her very table). A somewhat mischievous expression was on her face as she observed the dinner guests.

One of the Mafiosi looked up and noticed this; he realized it was too late!

The effect was almost immediate.

Several goblets fell down to the floor; the vintage spilled everywhere. Over two dozen gangsters seemed to choke and tremble as their eyes became wide as saucers. Some of them tried to get up but soon fell over. The sounds of chairs being moved, choking, and gasps of shock and terror filled the room. The skins of the poisoned criminals turned into a nasty pale yellow…

Luchessi looked down briefly.

This is a tad unnecessary. But the Queen’s orders are the Queen’s orders. Sigh…

Aurora said nothing. She simply watched, a peaceful smile across her red lips.

“GRAAAAAA!”

The poison moved on to the next stage. Soon, the two dozen gangsters began to spit out blood… The choking, bleeding, and struggles would go on for another painful minute that felt like an eternity.

---

It was done. The dinner tables were silent. The corpses of two dozen fallen gangsters decorated the tables and the floors; plenty of red (both wine and blood) was on display; it was like a grotesque art piece from a morbid painting.

Aurora stood up, thoroughly satisfied that the message had been sent. The advisors and high rankers on either side of her looked discomforted. As a matter of necessity and to facilitate the deception, the Queen had told them of her plan and informed them not to drink from their goblets; they were nevertheless shocked at the gruesome choice of the slow-acting poison.

To some extent, Aurora had arranged this little theatre for the benefit of Luchessi and the others too. In any event, the message had been sent: the Queen was not to be double-crossed.

“I will take my leave now,” Aurora declared with some satisfaction. And with that, she stood up, raised her dress a little, turned around, and walked out of the room.

Luchessi pointed at the shocked servant in the corner.

“What are you waiting for?” he barked at him. “Get your friends in here and clean this up!”

“Y… YES SIR!”

---

In an alley of New York City

Kevin, K-0032

In a muddy, filthy alley… Kevin was in the midst of life-and-death combat against a large human wave of rugged goons in fedoras, suits, and jackets.

He was on a mission on orders of his master George. His objective was to protect a business associate of his boss’ from the United Mafia. He had expected mobsters to show up, but not a whole group like this.

They just kept coming and coming and coming.

Kevin ducked and avoided another blow; the super soldier swung his steel-like fist; it crashed into a grunt and pulverized the flesh.

The bloodied and the broken lay around him but they kept coming and coming… and to make matters worse he was slowing down.

If he failed George, George would be very unhappy and he would be punished for failing him yet again. No; he had to avoid capture.

In the midst of the fight he found an opening to break away. Taking the chance, he sprinted out unto the open and familiar streets of New York once more; it was almost too easy-

A tranquiliser dart struck him squarely in the back.

---

Palacial Mansion
New York City

George Hamilton

In the palatial mansion, Lord George Hamilton, Duke of York and loyal servant of good King George was distinctly annoyed. The boy he had adopted and told everyone was his “son” had gone missing and that was simply unacceptable: Kevin was an important asset… too important. George had do everything in his power to ensure that the dangerous weapon didn’t slip into the wrong hands.
Luckily, George had taken precautions for exactly this contingency. He loaded up the feed from the tracker he had imbedded into the boys arm: the moment his phone got a lock he was sprinting to his car at full pelt. George knew where that was pointed to and he did not like it, not one bit.

Soon after…

An ancient Bentley sped through the streets going into the countryside. Its driver paid no mind to the traffic laws as he continued speeding with single-minded purpose.

---

Lab16
Somewhere in the New York Countryside 


Pietro Gamgee

It was nearly nightfall... so that the crimson and orange rays from the setting sun cast a glaze over the entire compound and its surrounding grounds. The barks of the vicious guard dogs echoed throughout the place. A sizable force of paramilitary operators in black guarded the area; the rifles were slung against their vests as they patrolled the vast grounds in small groups.

On paper, the area showed up as a waste disposal ground... long ago marked as “radioactive” and off limits by the federal government. In reality, it was the grounds containing Lab 16, one of the United Mafia’s weapons research facilities. For decades, this place, and many other centres across the nation, ran covert, brutal and atrocious experiments without equal.

One of the United Mafia’s main scientists, Dr. Pietro Gamgee was in charge. He was sitting at his vast command centre when a voice spoke through his intercom.

“Sir, the truck is back with the package secured. It’s approaching the gate.”

“Good,” the scientist said. “Let’s move him back into the main hangar. Begin the containment protocol.”

---

A few minutes later they were ready. The truck was going to arrive at any time now.

Dr. Gamgee, a tall and thin brown-haired scientist in a lab coat with glasses and a tall proud nose, stepped out into the massive, spacious main hangar of the lab. Large crates and a few military vehicles were visible in the corners.

So it is done... they got him back. At long last. I was beginning to worry about my future...

The United Mafia had sunk endless resources into the project and the Queen wanted results. Certainly she needed K-0032 back.

At the very front, a large steel entrance panel would soon slide up so that the vehicle carrying the re-captured living weapon could enter and unload.

Dr.Gamgee took precautions. He was surrounded by two dozen paramilitary soldiers in black; their assault rifles were ready. It was a tactical team. Further behind him, a sizable group of timid looking scientists and technicians were preparing other advanced contraptions for the “re-integration” of the subject back into lab control and testing.

Come on... come on...

BEEEEEEEEEP...

A few lights lit up just as the large steel panel began to lift upwards... opening up a huge space for the ground transport to come in. All around Gamgee, the guards raised their rifles.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

Dr. Pietro Gamgee was entirely focused on the uplifting steel panel when suddenly the mechanical movement stopped... the panel having only moved one-tenth of the way up.

The gap was too small; certainly a transport was NOT getting in now...

"What... what is THIS?!" he demanded imperiously, turning around. The guards looked around in confusion.

"I don't know," a timid aide rushed up to the very front of the hangar. "Maybe some kind of a malfunction?"

"Fix it at once!" Gamgee turned around to one of the soldiers. "Give me your radio."

The soldier didn't have time to comply because almost at once... A new arrival appeared before Gamgee. It was a very young boy. Somehow, he had managed to get right up to Gamgee without anybody noticing! Did he appear out of thin air?

The scientist leapt back in shock and in spite of himself let out a fraction of a cry.

HOW DID HE GET IN?!

"And WHO THE DEVIL-"

A few of the guards turned and aimed their rifles at the child though they did not yet fire.

There was an expression on the pale child's face such that it unsettled the older scientist and in that moment he felt he wanted nothing to do with the kid. Inexplicably, it was turning cold... really cold...

As Pietro stepped back, he began to fill a shiver involuntarily... somehow it was turning to winter in the hangar. A series of terrified and confused murmurs rang out amongst the soldiers and the scientists but it was largely drowned out by a new source of noise...

When the child opened his mouth he began to sing, soon… more and more phantom children were appearing out of thin air or in some way walking out from shadows… until they formed an unsettling chorus of singers; the singing was of eerily high pitch:

“♫♪♪Oh the grand old Duke of York! He had 10,000 men!♫♪♪”

As they sang, the temperature dropped further in the room as the singing got louder and louder still. Frost glistened on the machinery in the hanger now, as the song that the Mafia had not heard in many years began to ring out at truly ear-piercing volume.

“♫♪♪He marched them up to the top of the hill and he marched them down again!♫♪♪”

Pietro stepped back so far that he bumped against a part of the hangar wall in shock; he turned briefly and noticed it had turned to ice. Something was happening... and he didn't understand it.

Screaming with rage (but still being drowned out by the large group of children singing), he waved his hands around in panic and a sudden, rising fear gripped at his heart.

The soldiers took longer than normal... perhaps it was the shock of seeing the intruders, perhaps it was the age of the children, the inexplicable rising of the frost... but at length one of them decided to open fire on the intruders.

BANG!

A single bullet travelled across the room but it did not seem to strike any of the children... nor did it interrupt that dreadful, ear-piercing chorus. The high-powered bullet collided instead against a wall in the hangar in the distance...

"HOLY SHIT!" another guard screamed.

More soldiers began to fire, each of them going for the nearest “child.”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sounds of gunfire now competed with the rising volume of the singing... the bullets were entirely ineffective.

Dr. Gamgee walked around in terror... the song... but it couldn't be. He had heard rumours before, whispers of a tale so odd, fantastical and gruesome he didn't quite believe it's veracity though others in his organisation saw things-

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The singing suddenly stopped, but the ghostly children remained. They stood like vigils, still despite the gunshots around them, just watching… a few seconds passed, then they spoke in unison.

"God save the King!" the kids yelled as the sound of a car drew near. "All hail good King George!" they continued.

There was the sound of wall of fire being set off just outside the steel panel as a deep basso roar was heard saying: “And may he reign eternally!”

Someone is outside?

It seemed to be coming from outside of the stuck steel panel… but before Gamgee could make more sense of it:

Suddenly, there was a strange high pitched ringing sound, like the strange cry of a higher being from another dimension.

Almost at once all of the children’s eyes… boys and girls… they began to glow with a fiery bright red light… their pupils and irises were gone as their eyeballs became shining, monochromatic torches of evil…

From behind them, the steel panel too began to glow and buzz with a distinctive bright vermillion light, adding to the lights coming from the children’s demonic eyes.

Several of the soldiers straight up threw their guns down and ran away (they had seen enough horror for one night and whatever this was, the money wasn’t worth it). As for Pietro Gamgee, he stood, his back against a block of ice, his eyes transfixed in horror at the rising light. Even as footsteps, frantic cries, and the sound of further gunfire echoed across the entire hangar.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The bullets travelled straight past the children and were plastered harmlessly against the mysterious, vermillion-glowing bullet proof steel gate behind. At once the scientists and technicians near that gate begun to back off and run.

Meanwhile the ringing sound grew louder and louder…

Suddenly… a series of fireballs began to rocket out from under the glowing door at the speed of thunderbolts striking true.

The first projectile struck one of the soldiers to Gamgee’s left. Gamgee turned just in time to see the soldier set completely ablaze from head to toe… screaming frantically as he was completely annihilated…

More and more fireballs shot out from under the door at a relentless pace; seemingly striking like homing missiles as if guided by a devil. Soon there was fire and destruction everywhere as the soldiers were burned alive one after another and transformed into blazing, dancing, human fire displays.

The sound of gunfire was replaced with loud ringing, the screams, and the cackling of the flames, the clanging of metals as the burning corpses of many of the soldiers crashed against military material against the walls. The smell of flesh burning rose throughout the room.

Pietro Gamgee made the decision to leave.

He turned around and frantically rushed for the other door that would lead deeper into the compound. As he made the run, he nearly ran into one of the burning soldiers; his fire-engulfed screaming form missing the scientist by inches. Just before he left, Pietro turned around and saw him…

There was a newcomer in the hangar, his outstretched hands were glowing with the power of fire and his eyes gleamed with power; throughout this commotion and chaos somehow he had slipped in just under the steel gate though no one had time to notice. His hair long and silvery and his clothes seemed as though they came from another century. IT WAS GEORGE HAMILTON! The legend of evil was here.

George seemed to glide across the smoke, the destruction and the carnage. Almost every soldier and personnel in the room was burnt to a crisp now and Pietro had no intention of staying.

UNBELIEVABLE!

He turned and sprinted single-mindedly towards that remaining door.

In a moment of ill-fate, the scientist tripped over one of the corpses. As he turned around on the ground, he found himself face to face with the terror. A fear gripped the scientist such that he felt a vice grip his heart.

There was no one else now, only George and Gamgee. Everyone else had either fled or been burned to crisps. George remained fixated on his target. The fire from his hands shut off as he rounded with purpose on Gamgee.

"Where is he," he snarled, eyes boring deep into him, "You know to whom I refer. If your desire to see your family again outweighs your desire for an early meeting with the devil, you will ensure myself and Kevin are reunited again."

"He's-he's in the truck right outside this hangar!" he cried out desperately. "I had the strike team hide him in the deepest of the steel boxes!"

PLEASE LET HIM BE THERE!

"He's in there I SWEAR!"

He prayed to God (for his sake) that the truck outside hadn't been reduced to cinder. He hadn't seen or heard of it since the attack began.

George grabbed the scientist by the back of his shirt and dragged him through the narrow gap ahead of him, praying that the truck was still there. Blissfully, it was unharmed, the entirety of the flames having entered their intended target, the hanger.

"Off you go now," he urged, "Get him out and pray to little baby Jesus that nothing bad has happened to him. It really wouldn't be a fun last day for you if he ends up getting hurt."

Pietro looked around in terror. There were no guards.

He-he couldn't have killed them ALL could he?

But there was no one, no one at all.

Instead of cooperating immediately he turned and said, "Wait. If I get him out, you'll... you'll let me live?"

George gave Pietro a winning smile and nodded. "I will," he told him, "You have my word that I won't hurt you in any way."

It was as good as he could hope for. He threw a quick glance at the driver's window... even the truck driver was dead (or at least unconscious). Swallowing, Gamgee opened up the back of the truck's container with considerable effort... the steel panel of the cargo hold went straight up. After which, the scientist got inside the hold. It took a few minutes but he managed to push aside a set of heavy wooden boxes. What was left... deep inside the vehicle at the very end, was a high tech, opaque cube (it was crafted from a specialised, nigh-unbreakable substance) of very large dimensions, it was completely sealed and gated by a visible security scanner requiring a typed code to open up.

Dr. Gamgee hesitated. He turned and looked back. George Hamilton was standing just outside the truck, his face re-assuring.

His heart racing, the scientist turned around, knelt down and entered a passcode into the screen. There was a loud click as the box began to open up and deploy... in this way setting the imprisoned bioweapon free at last.

Knowing the danger that K-0032 potentially posed, even if sedated, Gamgee scurried back towards the opening of the cargo hold, to rejoin George.

"He's coming out now. I'll just get a few things and leave this place if you will-"

"Let's wait until he's out," George told Gamgee calmly.

Kevin was moving around and getting his bearings; George had an understanding as to what would come next. When it finally did happen there wasn't much warning. Kevin simply shot out of the truck and towards Gamgee: it was far too late by the time that the shocked scientist had realised he needed to respond faster. Kevin grabbed his arm, his teeth opened and closed; a hand dropped to the floor.

George tenderly wiped the blood from Kevin's lips and gave Gamgee a sad smile "Tell your Queen what happens when she bites off more than she can chew. Tell her that if she swears loyalty to the King, none of this unpleasantness needs repeating."

"GIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH!!!!!"

The damaged scientist howled as tears filled his eyes and he rolled and convulsed about in the truck, his entire form lighting up with all-consuming agony.

"OWWWW GIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH!!!!!"

He scrambled out of the truck but the result was that he fell facedown unto the gravelled floor below; whereafter his convulsions and screams continued.

Kevin tried to move towards the scientist again, but a magical binding gently pulled him back. A very childish whining noise escaped his mouth and he pouted in George's general direction: George meanwhile grabbed the scientist’s arm and with a flash of fire cauterized his wound.

"Did you hear me?" he asked softly.

Gamgee didn't need to be told twice. Still racking up from considerable pain, the scientist got up from the floor, his lab coat now completely stained with red and black. Letting out a final cry of "YES!," he turned and dashed off into the distance and out of sight.

"What a stupid man," Kevin laughed as George led him to the car.

As for Kevin… the magical binding around his waist and a constant and reassuring presence when he was with George guided him into his seat as the Duke set the car in motion. They were, after all, late for a very important meeting.

---

“The Old Finn”
New York City

Tom Gabriels

“The Old Finn” was a pub. Outside the establishment, it was completely lifeless. The streets were devoid of vehicles; the shops on either side of the streets dusty, abandoned and broken… this was a side of the city that the promises of capitalism had failed; it was unclear if the street lamps even worked.

Inside “The Old Finn,” it was large and spacious, stylish and surprisingly clean. A few antlers and dusty paintings adorned the walls; a large number of rectangular tables and chairs filled up the place. It was an old, well-decorated establishment (in the style of good old Ireland) with the oddity of its strange location.

Presently, three people were around the bartender’s counter.

Tom Gabriels, a dark-haired middle-aged man in a handsome black suit, white shirt and dark red tie, sat with a black laptop out. His bony fingers were typing away as his sharp steely grey eyes fixated on the monitor, seemingly able to consider multiple things concurrently. Presently the screen showed a series of security footages of sorts; along with several documents, emails and spreadsheets, all of it optimally arranged for visibility and use.

A cold, aloof Japanese woman with short hair stood close to one of the windows; she was surveying the empty street outside and the lifeless windows of the buildings on the opposite side. Shiroi Kasamoto was young, lean, and athletic; she was dressed in a cloth martial arts outfit made completely in black. A very large katana was sheathed and attached to her back with a firm strap.

“You never take a break do you?” she said. “Whatever documents you’re doing, can they not wait?”

“As they say,” Tom said, still typing away. “Time is of the essence. If I’m here I might as well maximize the time. I can multi-task with the feeds. Besides, Antihero’s got my back if I miss a detail.” He allowed himself a dark chuckle, Tom had a peculiar humour.

Standing behind the counter and shadowing Tom was Antihero, a masked vigilante dressed completely in a costume of blue, red and white. He wore a helmet, seemingly opaque goggles and a mouth covering that hid all parts of the face, a military battle dress, a large navy blue bulletproof vest, joint paddings, gloves and combat boots. As was his personality, Antihero had come fully armed and equipped; he had all of his knives in addition to a holstered pistol though they were well hidden. There was an carbine M4A1 hidden under the bartender’s counter.

“I’ve got your back Tom,” Antihero said in a cold and steely voice. “However, I can’t say I much like numbers and paperwork.”

“Indeed, they’re for the day job,” Tom clarified, still typing, allowing himself a smile. “I’m just sending Bobby my proposed phrasing and inputs for the renewal of the construction deal today. I’d rather not do it now but they’re meeting at 5 o clock and its very last minute; it’s a sick twist. As you see I’ll be presently occupied here; Bobby needs my angle though.”

Antihero shook his head in disbelief. He didn’t understand how Tom could manage his multiple lives so efficiently. Antihero himself had long ago given up on his day job which he loathed anyways…

Tom had gone to great lengths to set up this clandestine meeting. It was going to be an important one, setting the tone for the whole giant endeavour to come. Being a clean freak, he had insisted on personally visiting this place one more time in advance just to clean it himself.

“They should be arriving at ANY TIME now,” Tom said as he hit the Send button and then turned to the other files, all the while checking the hidden security feeds. “We’re expecting a pretty large crowd… and some very interesting players and pieces.”

“How large of a crowd?” Shiroi said suspiciously, her eyes still watching the street. “Are you sure we can trust everyone?”

“I’ve vetted the people,” Tom said. “Ran them through my old pals at the CIA. For the most part, I think this can be a lasting alliance though as they say, we’re taking a few measured risks with a few individuals… but the payoff is worthwhile I believe.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t just go hacking it ourselves,” Antihero said half-seriously. “It’d make the whole thing much more glorious, more like an adventure.”

“Everyone needs more friends sometimes,” Tom said. “This dragon we’re taking on… it’s HUGE. Biggest in world history some would say.”

A few more seconds passed...

“Any time now…” Tom said, watching the screens. “ANY time now…”

[CoraSpia]

The ancient bently cruised the unfashionable parts of New York, looking totally at odds with the largely failing old mass-produced cars that populated this area.
"We really go to all the best places," Kevin said, focused on the view from out of his window, "Boarded up drug store...that looks like a car graveyard...hooker...hooker...Old guy being beaten up by 4 kids, This is an amazing vacation!"
George looked a little confused as well, but the message from Tom was quite clear. This was the area in which they were to meet their new allies; he was definitely going to be proposing somewhere a little less depressing next time though. As he watched, the scene somehow managed to get worse: this area of the city looked totally abandoned: something about it made him prepare for a fight. Too much excitement in one day might be too much for his heart though: he'd laid it on a little thick for the scientists and mafia goons earlier and another major fight would not be good for him.
When the pub, standing conspicuously upright in the desserted land around it finally came into view, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. From what he could see there was no ambush waiting for them, but he couldn't be too sure. Luckily however Kevin was one moment ahead of him: the boy got out and began to scan around.
"Looks clear," he called out causing George to nod and join him in the parking lot. The two walked slowly into the bar, noticing that the only people there were some of the ones they had arranged to meet.

Kevin walked up to the bar and laid his hands on its polished surface. "Those bottles and pumps still capable of dispensing drinks?" he asked, "If they are, whisky. Good, big. The sort of size you give someone who's just been captured and had to bite a guys hand off."

[Kaledoria]

Lorelei Martin, Hacker extraordinaire

A nice little cafe in Manhattan. Lorelei was ordering her second cafe and spiked it with Irish Cream. The Barista did not care at all and she knew it. She sat back down at her laptop in the corner by the window, to continue on her WIP novel - or so it would seam to someone casually glancing over her screen. In fact the cafe was next door to the Spade hotel and from her place in the corner by the window she could get into the Lobby w-LAN.

The Spade Hotel was independently owned, by a cooperative of people with no known connection to the Mafia - even in the circles that usually knew even when the average guy on the street did not. Nevertheless, Lorelei had gotten a tip to investigate that carefully and by her first observations, that tip had merit. The firewall to the private network of the Hotel had no obvious flaws she could exploit, so far rare enough. But then she got at least a simple Ping through and the response time made it clear without doubt, that the Hotel had their server on location, the second unusual element because a cooperation this size would usually outsource the IT to a specialized company, especially if she wanted something good. The server was supposed to be in some IBM server facility or something, not on location.

A neglectfully unsecured smartphone connected to the w-LAN and Lorelei used the opportunity to plant a bug on it. As the owner of the phone went through the lobby and into the elevator the connection broke of. Waiting to regain connection, a message popped up on Lorelei's screen <EnvoyOfEris: Hey dizz swing your ass into wetworkers anonymous. the fuck is happening???>

Lorelei logged into the darknet chat and saw what EoE had been talking about. Various members were linking revenge funds that had been triggered, valuing between a few 100k to over two million dollars. The values, the names, the comments some guys were posting made it clear: Those were some high ranking United Mafia Members, who were killed there, activating a bounty on their assassin. Lorelei wondered, whether this Anti-hero guy, that Mr Gabriels had talked about last week was behind that but some comments made her realize it was worse than that: <I can't believe she did it><That bitch><What a power move!> Lorelei examined the revenge fund links and in fact the name of the target on every single one was the same: Aurora Von Staffen.

She regained connection with her little bug inside Spade Hotel. It had linked to another w-LAN, which was necessary because the hotel seamed to block the telephone reception. This was the last clue that something was shady there but Lorelei could really not concentrate on this right now. She cleaned up her traces on the phone, closed her laptop, payed and left.

In her car she wrote a message to Tom Gabriels: <We need to talk, secure>. She got an answer right away: <Hey, I was just about to write you the exact same thing. The Old Finn Pub, Brooklyn, this evening, we will be among a number of like-minded guests.>

Lorelei drove home, changed her wardrobe. A plain grey T-Shirt, loose fit, simple jacket, black jeans and sneakers seamed appropriate. She did not want to draw attention to herself among strangers, especially when "like-minded" as Tom had wrote meant "dedicated to mess with the mob".

In the evening she appeared at The Old Finn, as one of the earlier guest, sat down at the bar and ordered a soda.

[Keruma]

Lee, Jonathan

3 months. Three months of running away. Three months of hiding. Three months on the run. Jonathan never thought that it would all lead back to the place he lived in when he himself wanted to run away from his parents. It was hardly an accident, though. Jonathan was back in NYC for a specific reason; to orchestrate the downfall of the United Mafia.

Somewhere in Minnesota, a month earlier

Jonathan was sitting on the corner of a '50s themed diner, patiently waiting for his order of hash brown and coffee. To pass the time, Jonathan was blasting music through the earphones stuck in his left ear. It has become a habit of his to only put on one headphone to keep him alert for any lurking dangers. The numerous preparations Jonathan had to make just to see the next day were painfully different from the life he had before but he didn't mind it at all. He was ready to do anything just to get his hands on the killers. Jonathan looked around the building to make sure he had escape routes right. It had also become a habit of his to analyze the layout of buildings, another mental precaution he had drummed up.

After another minute of waiting and Jonathan's order finally arrived. He thanked the lady who delivered the food to him and proceeded to bite down on the steaming piece of potato. Jonathan kept on eating when a PING from his phone caught his attention. It was a message, from someone named Thomas Gabriels...

The present, Queens

Jonathan never thought he would be back in his old place. He wouldn't stay for long, though, because he had to get to the Old Finn within an hour. I have to make this quick, he thought to himself. Jonathan was shocked that the United Mafia hadn't ransacked his apartment in the three months he was away from the place. It can only mean one thing, though; the mafia was always on his heels. They were always behind him, so they didn't feel the need to clear out his New York apartment. This sudden realization sent a chill up Jonathan's spine. He was at death's door for a couple of months now and he was none the wiser. Not anymore though, Jonathan thought. Now, I strike back.

Jonathan quickly changed into a new set of clothes. Black dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves, dark green hoodie, a pair of nondescript stretchable jeans, and the Onitsuka Tiger shoes he always wears when he was out for a parkour run. Next, he fastened on the concealable holster and his 9mm pistol onto his person. A dagger he bought back in Korea was placed in the side compartment of his backpack. He stuffed all the documents of importance into his backpack. Just as he was done packing up the last of his things, he could hear a multitude of murmurs from behind his apartment door. It's my cue then, he thought. He silently lifted a window and clambered up the emergency stairs. The sound of his hurried footsteps coincided with the destruction of his apartment door and the subsequent stream of curse words. Jonathan reached the rooftop in record time and proceeded to leap to the adjacent buildings.

The setting of the sun meant that it was getting harder to see the streets Jonathan was walking. It's been three minutes of aimlessly walking around, and all he has seen so far is a couple of stray cats and the occasional flickering of streetlamps. "No one would think to look in a shithole like this. Good job, Tom" he muttered to no one in particular. A well-lit establishment walked into his view. That must be the place. He hurriedly walked towards the building and slowly entered. Jonathan was surprised at the opulence of the bar. Well, opulence relative to the buildings falling apart outside. He first took note of the occupants. The man staring at his laptop was undoubtedly Tom, based on the messages he had sent to Jonathan in the past. Beside one of the windows was a woman who looked slightly older than Jonathan and was sporting a very large sword behind her back. Behind the counter was one of the dumbest looking men Jonathan has ever come across. That must be antihero then, Jonathan thought.

Never the one to forget his precautions, he analyzed the interior of the bar and looked for escape routes. After a few more seconds of analyzing and strategizing, he was satisfied with the plans he had come up with. He sat down at the least populated side of the bar, took out the bottle of Coca-Cola he had been drinking earlier, and tried his best to lose the tension building up in his body.

[Nagakawa]

The Old Finn
New York City

A taxi pulled up outside of the dingy establishment, and from the bright yellow car stepped forth a man of stocky build, draped in a long black trench coat and a dark maroon scarf, topped off with a black fedora with a wide brim, as if to hide his identity as much as possible without actually wearing a mask.

“Hi, sir. You haven’t paid.” The taxi driver poked his head out of the window and lit himself a cigarette.

“Ah. Give me a moment.”

The man sifted through his wallet and sighed.

“Bollocks.”

“Do you need me to-”

“No, no, I’ve got exact change.”

With his wallet thoroughly emptied of any hard cash whatsoever, the man grumbled to himself and walked into the bar, taking off his hat and coat and hanging them on the coat hooks by the door. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol hung heavy in the air. A drink was in order.

There were already several other people hanging around. It wasn’t a particularly busy evening, from the looks of things. About five or so people, minding their own business. This was where they’d told him to show up- it was probably one of these people in here who’d called him over.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but changing his mind, slowly pulled his hand back out of his pocket and took a seat at the bar, nodding at the curiously-dressed bartender and the other people hanging around the area.

“Hi, bartender. One Applejack Rabbit, please. But, uh, with Calvados instead of apple brandy. Two shots.”

With his first order for the night settled, the man looked over at the Japanese lady standing by the window and the man beside him typing away at the computer and nodded to acknowledge their presence, while smiling faintly to break the tension in the atmosphere. He wasn’t sure if they were the ones who had called him up, or if they too had been called up, but it was perhaps better to let someone else broach the subject, sensitive as it was.”

“Oh, and Bartender...” the man added, taking out his credit card. “Open a tab for Joseph Langley.“

...

[North Timeria]

This was Zach's first time in New York and he didn't really know what to expect. This invitation seemed a bit suspicious but Zach decided to go anyway, taking a risk to see what he could gain. Zach was unfamiliar with the city and struggled to find the bar. Eventually, he gave up and decided to ask someone for directions. Asking for help didn't seem to help much as the people seemed to be uninterested in helping him. Never the less Zach used his GPS to find the area and seemed a bit confused. "Why the hell did they pick this place?"

For a quick moment, the thought of an ambush crossed his mind before he dismissed it "If they wanted to kill me they could've done that at home." he said as he looked around for the pub. Zach had finally made it as he headed inside of the pub. He looked around and waved at the people that were already inside. Everyone seemed to be minding their business, there didn't seem to be much of a meeting going on as he sat down at the bar.

"Hey, can I open up a tab, and let's start with a long island please." he said to the bartender as he handed him his card. He sat across from an older man with grey hair. As he looked closer he noticed who it was. Zach was sitting across from one of California's Congressmen. This couldn't have been a coincidence that they just so happened to both be at the bar today. Zach didn't know what to say but he moved a few seats closer and waved at the Congressman.

"Ugh Representative Langley?" he asked politely, unsure of how he would react to someone approaching him in public.

"My name is Zach, I'm from Los Angeles and I just happened to notice who you were. It just interesting seeing someone else from the West Coast here at the same time."

[Infected Mushroom]

About one hour ago...

6375 Rainsford Drive
Kensington (Suburb of New York City)

Nathan Lacrosse

The rows and rows of little houses with their blue, brown, and red roofs basked in the rays of the sunshine. Many people here had gardens and lawns; this wasn't the big city, it was suburbia.

6375 Rainsford Drive was the Lacrosse residence. The house was rather large but the owners, the Lacrosse family were saddled with a huge mortgage. They paid and paid, but the whole sum kept hanging over them.

An old dark blue Chevrolet was parked in the garage. The lawn was getting weedy and the grass rather tall from neglect. The chore of sorting this out was given to an unenthusiastic 16 year old Nathan Lacrosse. The teenager with curly hair had a slightly pouty expression on his face as he walked around with a rather outdated (but extremely loud) lawnmower machine. It was so loud that it drowned out the barking of the family dog Mozart; the golden retriever was distracted from his toy bone by the outdoor kennel.

Nathan hated the chores. They were dumb and pointless and in this case, interfered with his Saturday party plans (though it was partly his own fault for not doing them on Thursday or Friday after school). It was quite clear that Nathan was inexperienced and in real danger of making the lawn even more uneven; the art of gardening was not a Lacrosse family strong point.

Inside the house, the upkeep was even worse. The first thing people would see upon stepping into the hall were the large boxes of God-Knows-What stacked on either side of the narrow entrance corridor; one of the branches on the standing coat hanger was actually completely severed. If you got to the living room or the kitchen you would see that the rest of the house was cluttered to the brim with useless stuff as well. The kitchen wasn't quite on the same level of filth and mess as some of the worst scenarios in the impoverished ghettos but it was getting there. The drains and the sinks consistently broke down, even with the visits from the plumbers. A large number of dog food cans and bags were on the floors next to the door; they were sealed (right?) but somehow the food was so pungent it wafted into a large part of the house.

The living room was warm and cosy; but not entirely presentable. The trash basket by the unused and dusty fireplace was filled to the brim with cigarettes, tissues and beer bottles. The shelves were filled with family photos:

The husband, Paul Lacrosse
The wife, Andrea
The son, Nathan

However, it was mostly photos from over 10 years ago, when Paul looked much younger, happier, healthier, more athletic... Back then Paul was fit, handsome, cheerful, and completely shaved. As for the Paul of today...

---

Paul Lacrosse

In one of the upstairs room, a brooding Paul Lacrosse sat at his last-decade desktop (a technological monstrosity that often froze, lagged, and crashed), a cigarette was lit. He was the man of the house and he was the victim of a huge 10 year tragedy so as far as he was concerned, he was allowed to smoke in the house. His wife had given up on convincing him otherwise.

Paul was a different man now. After his 10 year run in prison, he was a lot heavier and slightly overweight. He now sported a large moustache and a great deal of facial stubbles; his curly hair had a few streaks of noticeable grey. Those who knew him noticed the lines around his eyes just as much. This was a tired, angry, and very cynical man. The system had completely failed him.

Paul was in front of the computer and he was typing away, but unlike what his wife thought and had been told, he was not researching or applying for a new job. It didn't feel right to do that sort of thing, not until a huge hole gets patched first.

You son of a bitch you want to meet... it's actually gonna happen?

He chuckled darkly to himself as flicked the spent cigarette into a waste basket. He missed; it joined the rest of the mess nearby.

"God damn it..." he cursed. He turned on his spinning chair as his grubby fingers grabbed a Corona glass bottle; he took a hearty swig from it.

Tom you son of a bitch...

He was excited now. They had traded favours across the internet for over a month now; at first Paul was suspicious of the man and he thought the whole thing was an elaborate prank. But after performing a few favours for each other, Paul knew it was real. In a way, he was already involved now.

It took a while but Paul was eventually persuaded to talk about the specific people who had wronged him and set about his downfall. "Tom" seemed to already know the information, but somehow he wanted Paul's trust and so he had emphasised the importance of Paul pointing out these people.

Three weeks ago, the whole Lacrosse family had sat down at dinner while the news was playing on the dingy TV. Paul heard it... one of the man he had fingered was stabbed to death and his corpse was thrown into a trash disposal... the news mentioned some blue, red and white mask-wearing vigilante in the vicinity. The dead gang member was the lowest of the lowest but it was a start.

Antihero...

For the first time in a long time, Paul felt a flicker of life. He was involved in something great again... it was finally time to right the wrongs. His wife Andrea could tell something had changed, but Paul wouldn't say what exactly. That night, they did it again in the bedroom for the first time in months... some of the animalistic side of Paul was coming back

A mere week ago, it happened again. Paul turned on the TV and heard of another gang member ending up in the trash, another stabbing. More reports of the blue, red and white...

"Tom" promised him more corpses...in due time... but only if he, Paul, did his part. Over the last few weeks, Paul and "Tom" conversed over the dark net. Paul felt he was part of something big again, "Tom" wouldn't tell him the whole plan, but "Tom" wanted Paul's input; he wanted to benefit from Paul's past experience as a narcotics detective. Paul felt USEFUL again. Paul felt alive.

They made a bit mistake when they crossed me... a BIG MISTAKE...

Paul stood up and walked over to the drawer. He changed out of his casuals into something a bit more intimidating; he was going to take his black leather coat.

He heard the front door from downstairs, Andrea was back, with the groceries. His wife always walked to and from the store; it was good exercise she said.

Oh GOD not now...

"Honey I'm back!" he heard from downstairs.

His sense of urgency picked up. He knelt down at his bed and opened a lower drawer just under it. Frantically, he pushed aside legions of socks until he found it... the 0.38 revolver he had purchased on the black market days ago.

I'm not really breaking the law. This gun ban was never constitutional to begin with, we all knew who brought about this un-American law.

---

Paul was downstairs; Andrea was in the kitchen, sorting out groceries and putting a few things into the overstuffed fridge. Paul angled his coat carefully to conceal the fact that he was "carrying."

"Honey dear," he said to her. "I'm just going to be out. I'll be back later in the evening. You and Nathan can eat first."

Andrea poked out of the kitchen. "Where are you off to?"

"Job hunting," Paul said unconvincingly as he hurried walked out without so much as a look back. On the way out, he turned and remanded Nathan sternly.

"Nathan!" he shouted over the cacophony of noise from the lawnmower. "Don't forget to finish your homework first!"

Last week, the Lacrosse parents were notified again that Nathan had been skipping a large series of school projects, papers, and assignments. Paul truly felt this generation was hopeless. In his day, he had to work AND school; school was a privilege, not something to be done with your nose pinched.

Nathan swore over the lawnmower and flicked a finger. But Paul didn't see because Paul was distracted. He in the garage and out of sight, readying the car.

---

The Old Finn

A few hours later, a nervous but very excited Paul Lacrosse joined the others at the The Old Finn. He entered, looked left and right, and then sat himself down on the furthest of tables. He was already out of character, he didn't request a drink though he saw many of the others were drinking.

He saw the man at the front with the laptop. Was he "Tom"?

Was the costumed person behind the counter, the real Antihero? Was this it?

[Infected Mushroom]

The Old Finn

Antihero

Yes, well... it was inevitable that I'd be the bartender considering where I'm standing. But I'll play, this is amusing.

Being Tom's close ally, Antihero had also been told about the whole guest list; in fact, he had been consulted on all the names. Shiroi on the other hand, had shown a general disinterest in the whole process.

They had asked for different drinks, which psychologically speaking was... interesting.

Antihero decided to play a little game. He kept absolute silence. Tom wasn't talking yet, so he would do the same. Maybe they would think he can't speak, after all, his face was hidden.

Nevertheless, there was no need to raise the tension in the room. He quietly set his weapons down behind, while standing completely still. He was going to move around and distribute drinks, there was no need to make a big show with the holstered knives and guns.

Antihero was thankfully, knowledgeable about the drinks, or at least, suitably well-versed for the task. He carried out the orders in complete silence.

The first two to enter... well that must be George and Kevin. That much was clear and self-evident.

Kevin walked up to the bar and laid his hands on its polished surface. "Those bottles and pumps still capable of dispensing drinks?" he asked, "If they are, whisky. Good, big. The sort of size you give someone who's just been captured and had to bite a guys hand off."

Antihero said nothing. Instead, he walked over with two glasses and dispensed a single drink in silence. From his mansion parties with his alter ego self, he knew the proper glasses. He passed it to Kevin, then he turned and watched George, as if expecting an order.

I'm promoted to bartender now...

The next to enter was Lorelei Martin. She asked for a soda (non-alcoholic eh?), Antihero walked over and gave her a very large glass before returning to the counter.

Jonathan Lee was interesting. He brought his own drink; very surprising.

He plays it safe. Well it's a good idea, who's to say? Maybe we poisoned the drinks. This establishment doesn't look like it's well maintained. He's smart. I like this.

Finally, Antihero approached the Congressman.

As he prepared and set down the drinks without comment or speech, he studied and observed everyone very carefully.

Yes this should make one very interesting superhero team. I think Tom and I did well in this regard.

As he returned to the counter, he turned and looked at Tom. Tom was watching everyone now and then, but still occupied with the laptop.

Tom you really are going to wait for everyone to get here eh? Well... just as well...

Later on, Congressman Langley would enter, and soon after Zach. When Langley asked for a written tab, Antihero made a show of writing something down on a non-existent ledger. Then he walked over to take the orders; he approached just as Zach seemed to start a conversation. Antihero stood in the background, as if waiting to take an order, he had a writing pad in hand.

Later on, Paul Lacrosse entered and sat down.

[Bolslania]

Joseph Brooke stood up from out of the taxi cab, handing the driver the money necessary to pay for the trip. Being an ex-mafia member he had asked the driver to park two blocks away from his destination. As he walked down the sidewalk he opened up his mind, feeling around for any peering eyes. Nothing. He closed off his mind again as he reached the building, he had detected the few people inside, but their emotions betrayed no tension or fear. He opened the door, before him was assembled a collection of individuals. Some silent, some more energetic.

"So, what's this all about?" he asked, closing to door and stepping in.

[CoraSpia]

Kevin

"Not the talkative type?" Kevin asked the barman as he received his drink. A very large whisky, on the rocks...a real man's drink. He watched George order a glass of red wine before they both sat down at the table.
"We're already kind of conspicuous in the only non-condemned building around here," Kevin called out to everyone, "Here's an idea, why don't we all sit around a table so we're not shouting across the bar. Worst thing we could have here is a visit from the friendly local police officer because of a fucking noise complaint."

[Kaledoria]

Earlier that day...

Tom got a (properly encrypted) message. One of the invitees could not come: "Hi Tom, I can't be in New York this evening, thinks are moving fast around here. One of the local Dons (that I have personal interest in) has been out of town for two days and now suddenly his lieutenants are at each other's throats. I still don't know why but this could destabilize the Mafia's hold on the entire Richmond district. Maybe with a little encouragement spread through the entire city. I'll keep you updated. Sentinel."


Lorelei, The Old Finn, now

Lorelei gave a warm nod to Antihero, as he was handing her the glass. She ignored the fact, that he was in costume.

"Are we supposed to pay for the drinks?" she wondered when one of the guests put a credit card down, "I thought we were invited? Or maybe this guy just wants to drop his name? Lorelei had left her equipment at home, resisting the urge to try to hack the cellphones of the other people present, to check, who she was dealing with. Gotta be respectful, trusting and shit. But if someone dropped his name unasked for ... She took her phone out and started a search. The accent suggested a Londoner, which first let her on a false trail but then again it was incredibly easy to find the right Joseph Langley, since he was a person of some prominence. A politician. Another guest, obviously from his state, confirmed that.

"So, that's that. Now I'm working together with The Man. How did it come to that? Lorelei asked herself. Not that she had not started to go down this road earlier. She had traced the online traces of the mysterious Tom, who had contacted her, and found that he had used some accounts that had been created under the name Thomas Christian Gabriels, which she identified as a former CIA employee (she did not dare to further dig if he was staff, agent or analyst, given his background of chess and math, she guessed he was an analyst) who had died a while back. Lorelei was still unsure, whether Tom was really that person and if he was, whether he faked his own death to leave the Company or whether he had been promoted to agent in deep cover. Still though - she needed allies. Real allies, not just some script kiddies who thought they could smash the state with some DDOS attacks. So she decided to trust Tom for now even though he used to work for the CIA. Trusting a politician was the logical next step. At least for now, they would hopefully realize, that bringing down the Mafia was more important then the couple of petty crimes, Lorelei might have committed.

She waived Antihero to come to her again and leaned over the bar, whispering. "Hey, I'm new to this conspiracy thing," she lied, "Are we all supposed to introduce ourselves, or will there be like ... a presentation by our host of sorts?"

[Infected Mushroom]

"Not the talkative type?" Kevin asked the barman as he received his drink. A very large whisky, on the rocks...a real man's drink. He watched George order a glass of red wine before they both sat down at the table.

After giving the drink to Kevin, Antihero spent some time hovering by Zack and Langley until:

She [Lorelei] waived Antihero to come to her again and leaned over the bar, whispering. "Hey, I'm new to this conspiracy thing," she lied, "Are we all supposed to introduce ourselves, or will there be like ... a presentation by our host of sorts?"

Leaving Langley and Zack for the moment, the masked Antihero walked over to Lorelei.

“Yes,” he suddenly said, speaking up. The act had gone on for long enough, and it was largely a strange bit of fun.

As he spoke, some people looked at him. He DID talk. Still standing at the window, Shiroi Kasamoto shook her head, allowing herself a small smile.

Antihero looked at Tom for a while before turning back and saying loudly. “We’ll get started, as soon as everyone is here. You're going to like this.”

"So, what's this all about?" he [Joseph] asked, closing to door and stepping in.

“Welcome!” Antihero called out.

“And that’s everyone,” Tom said, closing his laptop and standing up. “We may begin.”

"We're already kind of conspicuous in the only non-condemned building around here," Kevin called out to everyone, "Here's an idea, why don't we all sit around a table so we're not shouting across the bar. Worst thing we could have here is a visit from the friendly local police officer because of a fucking noise complaint."

“Sure!” Tom said genially, clapping his hands and at once moving into action to help move the chairs.

Antihero moved over to the largest table and took a seat. Shiroi dragged a chair to the table. Soon, the others followed and relocated to the circular table. They took their drinks; a few chairs had to be moved but it wasn’t burdensome.

At long last, the first meeting of the task force would begin; the entire party was seated, Tom had his laptop.

---

Tom Gabriels

A flickering smile was on Tom’s face. He didn’t have his coffee for the day but on this day, he didn’t need it to feel excited. HIs blood was rushing.

Excellent, this is happening at last.

The dark-haired man stood up; he was impeccably dressed in his suit, like some kind of a corporate manager, lawyer or… cult leader? The eyes throughout the room turned to him.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands briefly, his voice seemed to carry across the room. “Everyone. Thank you for your patience. I apologize for the bit of theatricality and the long silence BUT… I wanted to make sure everyone was here and that the premises were absolutely secured before I started. I’m Tom… Tom Gabriels, the man behind the screen, but many of you have already figured that part out. I’m the one who brought you all together.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I was part of the CIA, but that’s old history. Right now, I’m hoping to build a new team, one of the greatest in the history of world events, a gathering of titans, heroes, and exceptional individuals. You guys are the members, if you choose to be In.”

Okay now here is where it gets tricky…

“I’m an American,” he said. “And I love my country, when I left the CIA, it wasn’t because I lost faith in America; I’ve never lost faith in America, I continue to believe. However, the system itself is a part of the problem. There’s a problem no one speaks of… a poison at the very heart of democracy and freedom itself… the problem of THE - UNITED - MAFIA."

He paused before continuing further:

"The people live in fear, they live in terror, they know the United Mafia is in control and wielding the power of life and death, but they dare not speak out… The insidious grip of the United Mafia is everywhere, it reaches into every nook and crevice, into every centre of power. They control the government, our politicians, our judiciary, our schools, our businesses, our police officers… every institution in this nation has been corrupted, twisted, and made filthy to serve the interests of the gangsters. They have powerful tentacles in absolutely EVERYTHING. So long as the Mafia runs things, we are NOT and can never be the true land of the free.”

There was a brief pause, then he went for it.

“It is time for us to work together to change that state of affairs.”

Paul raised a hand as he cleared his throat. Tom looked at him courteously.

“Hmmm I’m sorry but mmm,” Paul said. “I err… I’m not very good with politics but I’m a bit lost. Do you- do you mean that we’re creating a team to help clear my name? Do you mean that we’re going to off Mr. Antonio Graza and some more members of his Brooklyn crew? And then what… we steal some incriminating files from his big house or-“

“Yes and no,” Tom replied. He took a deep breath and then said, “That is a part of the process, a part of the plan. We will clear your name Paul YES. But the final objective, is to go after and take down the entire United Mafia, the entire rotten edifice…. THE WHOLE THING. Every single Mafiosi without exception, from the hundreds of thousands of pawns on the ground all the way to the wicked queen at the very top.”

There was a moment of silence. Some people looked excited, others were unsure.

“I searched far and wide for allies. EVERYONE in this room,” Tom said, looking around, and his steely eyes seemed to burn with a fire as he raised and clenched a fist. “...was CHOSEN. It isn’t the roll of the dice nor casual happenstance that brought this about… though God may have played a part in it (and I hope He did), I searched out every person in this room and I saw in each and every one of you, something great, something EXCEPTIONAL, something resoundingly remarkable that you can contribute to this new task force, this new team that we’re building.”

As he spoke, he turned and acknowledged everyone in the room in a way.

“We have master assassins and fighters… … a gifted hacker… wielders of extraordinary powers and magic… people with influence… special gifts… I think that together, while we face an uphill battle, there is a chance we could pull this off. What do you say?”

[CoraSpia]

Kevin

George was one for long and tiresome speeches, and so Kevin knew exactly what was going to happen when Tom opened his mouth. He couldn't help be a little impressed though, this guy had a certain something about him that even he could offer a bit of respect for. The mood in the room however seemed a little tense: one guy especially only seemed to be here because of some personal wrong in his past. It was time therefore to offer a little of support and so he stood and took in the faces around him with a grim but determined look on his face.

"Those bastards grew me in a vat to do their dirty work for them," he began, "They didn't even give me a name. Others here might have some sort of sympathy for the footsoldiers on the ground...they're just trying to feed their families, they had no other choice, I've heard all of that shit before. No. You know what you are getting yourself into when you join this organisation, and if I after just being...grown...realised it was rotten, so can the poor excuses for human beings who serve them.
My current count when it comes to these individuals is 203 dead, however many others wounded. I'm still here and I'm still able to fight, but I need fire support if I'm going to let them regret what they created. The only thing that's going to stop me from killing them is me being unable to fight anymore, and it'll be that way until they're dead. You don't have to ask me whether I'm in because I was in literally since the day that some scientists pulled me out of a vat."
He let his gaze wander over all the others before a smile creased his scarred face "I guess I can help train some ametures?"

[Bolslania]

Joseph entered into the room, his eyes fixed on the older man as he spoke. He listened silently, and wasn't entirely comfortable with how much he knew about Joseph. When the man finished speaking, Joseph nodded.

"Sounds like a plan." He said simply. His eyes flicked over the the younger one who spoke of his motivation, followed by his kill count. Joseph lightly opened up the kid's mind, not causing damage but just sifting through his conscience, he wouldn't feel a thing.

young, much younger than he looks. Violent and very aggressive, he must be more than human if he killed 200 people with that level of aggression.

[Nagakawa]

"Ugh Representative Langley?" he asked politely, unsure of how he would react to someone approaching him in public.

"My name is Zach, I'm from Los Angeles and I just happened to notice who you were. It just interesting seeing someone else from the West Coast here at the same time."

“Ah, good day to you, Zach”, said Langley, in his hoarse and characteristically and unmistakably British accent. “It’s not every day one of my constituents recognises me in a bar of all places. I need to work on my disguises.”

He took a careful and measured sip from his Applejack Rabbit, swirling the drink round in his mouth. The fiery and biting bitterness of calvados mixed with the tartness of citrus juice and the obscene but still somehow fragrant sweetness of maple syrup stuck to his palate, and seared his throat as it washed down.

Too sweet for my taste.

Upon hearing Tom speak, the stocky old congressman put his drink aside and swivelled round on his chair to face him, planting an elbow into the bar counter and resting his chin in his hand pensively as he perked his ear to take in the former CIA man’s explanation.

An alliance to stand against the United Mafia? Not something one hears about much these days.

“Very, uh, exciting project you’ve gotten us all in on”, Congressman Langley rasped. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and brought it to his mouth, but stopped just short of lighting it. “It’s a wee bit risky, I’d wager, but times’ll be hard either way, so why the bollocks not?”

[Keruma]

Lee, Jonathan

Things moved quickly after Jonathan entered the bar. A few moments after entering, the sound of a taxi pulling up right outside the bar can be heard. A rather large man entered the bar and the mysterious identity of this man piqued Jonathan's curiosity. Once he removed his hat and coat, however, Jonathan's curiosity was quickly sated. Representative Langley? he thought to himself. In hindsight, this shouldn't be too much of a shock. Langley was always known for his rather unorthodox methods in congress, and the usual fistfight. He has a multitude of powers available to him which made him a suitable teammate in Jonathan's eyes.

The next person to arrive was younger. Just like Rep. Langley, he requested an open tab. Curiously, he immediately struck up a conversation with the congressman, which made Jonathan believe that this blonde guy was from California as well. The growing number of people made Jonathan wonder, How many are there?

Another person joined the growing ensemble. He was a large man, with large meaning both muscular and overweight. He looked hesitant when he walked in, what with the hasty observation of the place with his head movement. What's curious was that he sat quite near to Jonathan, which is weird because Jonathan sat in the least populated areas of the bar. Jonathan didn't think much of it, however, and proceeded to ignore the man.

A peculiar event caught Jonathan's attention. Antihero himself was serving drinks to the ones that ordered. It was already weird that people started ordering in the first place; it's even weirder that he's actually going with it. Do these people not know who Antihero is? he thought. And why is he going along with it? As Antihero was distributing the drinks, however, he looked directly at Jonathan and made eye contact. Jonathan quickly removed any thought from his brain and looked at Antihero with dead eyes. It seemed as if Antihero was sizing him up, and Jonathan made sure not to let all his cards show. The last one to enter was rather straightforward. As soon as he stepped into the building he asked the purpose of this meeting.

It was at this point that Antihero and Tom finally spoke up. Everyone listened to the old man's... request? Command? to sit at the central circular table. Then, Tom started speaking. About how we knew that he was the brains behind this meeting. About his ambition. About how this was not the America that he wanted, and how this was the doing of the United Mafia.

Jonathan? Jonathan couldn't give two shits about America. He lived almost his entire life here, sure, but he never felt the emotional connection. All Jonathan wanted to happen is enact vengeance for his family by dismantling this hideous organization. Of course, it didn't hurt to right the numerous they did along the way.

Finally, the big question was asked: are they in or do they want out?

The first one to speak was the young man who was already inside when Jonathan came. He revealed that he was a product of the United Mafia and made to do their dirty work. Jonathan was shocked but kept silent. The next one to speak was the last one to arrive. He simply agreed with the whole ordeal. He then gave the kid a very good look, which caught Jonathan's eyes. Maybe they have seen each other before? Next, it was Rep. Langley who spoke up. He said that this was a very risky proposition, but everything else seemed to be just as risky so why the hell not?

It seemed like everyone was going to speak up either way, so Jonathan thought to do the same.

"I agree. I think we all have something against the United Mafia, and this feels like the best shot we have at taking them down, so count me in"

[Infected Mushroom]

“You know I’m in,” Anthero said. “This is the battle of a lifetime. It will be glorious.”

Shiroi Kasamoto

A flashback ran across Shiroi’s mind and for a brief moment she was there again... that shabbily-dressed teenage girl stepping into that sushi shop; the backpack was still on her small shoulders. The first sign that something was wrong was the overwhelmingly pungent smell of iron and blood... why were the walls red-

She snapped out of it.

Turning around, she said fiercely.

“They slaughtered my family like cattle... my father, my mother, my brother... it’s old history to them but for me, it’s a matter of honor,” she said firmly, her eyes flashing with anger. Turning around to face Tom, she said:

“You already know this. But I will lend my sword to your cause... and fight with every ounce of strength.”

She tried to avoid showing emotion but this was an important moment for her. Her life’s project was about to happen at last... finally, she would face the true demons of the world... and not alone. All of her sacrifices and work in life... what she has trained herself to do... these things they were about to play out and be put to the test.

As if understanding the importance of this moment, Tom caught her gaze and nodded firmly.

[Kaledoria]

Lorelei

Tom had high goals. Lorelei was irritated, then bemused. She had thought trying to destabilize the Mafia, to maybe kill their leadership and make sure it fractures into smaller crime organizations, that would be to busy fighting each other to bother the common people - that was an ambitious project. But taking down Every Single Mafioso? That sounded insane. The logistics alone ... No, she would not be out-dreamed by the others. The idea of doing an impossible mission hyped her up. It was a good selection of people that Tom had assembled. But obviously some strong characters, teamwork could get difficult, so she needed to be non-confrontational.

"That is a huge undertaking but if not we, then who's gonna do it? I would not want to miss it so count me in."

She looked around, meeting the gaze of the others of the team, trying to figure out, who was important for the group dynamic. In a male team, two women were often a problem, so to avoid Queen-Bee mentality, it was important for her to get on the good side of the other woman. Shiroi seemed controlled despite talking about a traumatic event and so Lorerei mirrored her composed exterior, did not smile and looked down respectfully.

But there was also the boy, who claimed to have killed 203 people already - as one of the first things he told strangers about himself of all things - that was definitely concerning, from a psychological point of view. Her usual charms were not suited for this kind of problems. She looked at Kevin and concentrated inward to evoke motherly feelings in herself, an emotional mindset that definitely did not come natural to her.

[CoraSpia]

George Hamilton

George's usual booming voice was a clear contrast from the sincere but typically quiet people around him as he began to speak, suggesting his plan. Perhaps a more restrained attitude would be better for such an audacious suggestion, but unfortunately the Duke had never had quiet and restrained as a part of his character.
"Assuming we are all in," he began, "I have a suggestion. I know Kevin is in because we've already discussed it; he's a far better judge of the line between risky and suicidal than I am.
I am sure that many of you may remember that around 5 years ago there was an attempt by certain individuals to do what we are doing now. They asked for my assistance in joining them but I refused as our ideological differences were just far too large for me to consider assisting them. Essentially they were a group of holier than thou socialists and communists, some of whom were mages of dubious talent who had a plan to defeat the Mafia and turn America into their socialist utopia. I of course wanted nothing to do with it. They didn't get very far and are now imprisoned in a place that I am sure you have all been told is a myth...I am talking about the vault, of course."

The vault was a military prison in the wilderness of upstate New York. Its location was hidden from the public and all that most of them knew of it was little more than rumour; the US government even officially denied that it existed.
"It is, apparently, where the government houses people who can never be released. International terrorists...mass murderers...psychopaths with no fear of taking a life. I'm sure that I would not actually surprise you when I inform you that it is nothing of the sort. The vault is a place in which the United Mafia's enemies end up for life, so that the insane queen who rules this country can torture them...perform experiments. It is her personal high-security playground and it is where we will end up if we fail. Of course in general, it would be suicide to attempt to forcibly release prisoners from the vault if we didn't have one advantage...luckily however we do." He took a deep breath and a swig of his drink: they wouldn't like to hear the next bit of his statement.
"I designed the vault. It was my project when I was on the Mafia's ruling council. I know about its defences, both physical and magical but most importantly of all...when I design things I always make sure to give myself a way in. A way that those I am working for no nothing about and that is well-hidden enough that I can have a more than reasonable belief they have not yet discovered."
"As this is apparently my talent," Kevin told them, "This is risky, not suicidal. Quite a bit over that line, to tell you the truth. Anyway...you in?"

[Infected Mushroom]

Tom Gabriels

It was an intriguing idea. However, it was also very dangerous. On the one hand the team could get themselves an army but on the other hand... what if they couldn't control what they unleashed? Five years ago? That was quite a while ago, a lot could have changed. Also... COMMUNISTS? Still, if you're going against a whole nation's worth of gangsters, you may need all the help you can get... and all the chaos you can cause to them.

"I have heard of the Vault," Tom said at length. "If we break those prisoners out, it could be an interesting development."

"And what if we can't trust the people inside?" Shiroi asked. "What if they they're even crazier than the Mafia? I thought you didn't like Communists."

Tom was reminded of his CIA days and all the Cold War games.

"The way I see it, if they want to join us, if we come to an arrangement, we get a new army," he said. "If they don't and go out on their own to play their own little games, then we still get more chaos against the Mafia. It seems like a potential win win, though not without risks," Tom said. "If anyone from inside turns out to be useful..."

Tom turned to Antihero, he supplied the money and the hideouts. "Hypothetically, we can accommodate how many more?"

Antihero chuckled darkly. "I've way over-spent in this department. You don't need to worry about it. Even if they've got over a hundred people... I could probably hide them. They'll have to relocate to cities across the country but it can be done. I've got the fox holes; tons of land. The thing is... we have to make sure they can be trusted too. Vet everyone, come to an agreement."

Tom turned to George and said: "You've been there before but you say it's five years ago. A LOT could have changed. We may decide to act and attack, but first I think we should physically scout the place out first... at least from the outside, a good deal of the perimeter... before deciding to go for it or not. I think we should send a small scouting force to the area, take some photos from a safe perimeter, do some preliminary scouting. I've done a lot of sniping and recon, so I volunteer myself. George you should come too."

"You'll need me too," Shiroi insisted.

"Fine," Tom said. "Come along."

Tom turned to Lorelei and said: "Hypothetically speaking, under what circumstances would you be able to hack into a base with potential military security? Would you need to be completely inside or could we get some intel from the outside? Would you want to come along and find out?"

[North Timeria]

Zach was a bit shocked when he heard of Tom’s plan. Taking down part of The United Mafia would be considered dangerous but Tom had just suggested taking on the whole beast. Zach needed a shot for this and quickly took down a double. He was still a bit confused and in shock at the proposal. How was a group banded together in some random bar gonna take down the Mafia, Zach just couldn’t put together this concept in his mind.

After Tom spoke Zach was in even more shock that so many people agreed with him. Did they not have doubts or fears? Zach felt a bit isolated at this moment as he felt he was the only one hesitant to accept this proposal. He was still young and unsure of what the future held. While everyone seemed to agree Zach looked around and couldn’t see himself being a member of the team. He didn’t really know what he had to offer or why he had been recruited.

The team then began to put forward their first plan. A military prison in upstate New York? A communist mage? It was a bit overwhelming at first but the alcohol had started to settle his nerves. He stood up to speak to Tom in front of everyone.

“I’ll be honest Tom… I don’t know if I can do this. I’m a bit nervous, considering we’re trying to take down the entire Mafia.” Zach didn’t want to be a downer or cast doubt into everyone’s mind but he had to know.

“I’m not trying to doubt what we could accomplish but Tom? Considering everything you know and all of your experiences… Realistically do you think we have a chance or is all of this just a pipe dream?”

[Infected Mushroom]

Tom Gabriels

"I won't lie to you," Tom said. "The situation is very dire. The United Mafia is strong, perhaps stronger than ever. They have hundreds of thousands of gangsters, the ear of government and big business, and even as we speak... they are recruiting, getting even bigger. Their grip over the country... it's huge. This is definitely a very VERY dangerous thing that I'm asking you to consider."

A sombreness descended upon him before he continued:

"Nevertheless, I think it is possible for us to win. Throughout the history of the world, small bands of courageous fighters have at times emerged victorious over greater forces of tyranny, in the end making a real difference and paving the way for freedom. If we can show the world... that the Mafia is not invincible, that it can be challenged, outmanoeuvred, and resisted... then my hope is that the people will eventually come to back us. I believe that the power the Mafia wields over the people is more fragile than it looks. We have some truly exceptional individuals among us. Kevin, Antihero, and Shiroi have all already taken down a number of mobsters, it can be done. We have two of the world's most powerful magic users among us on this day. With the right organisation and support, we can take down so many more gangsters. And err on our team we also have..."

"One really pissed off ex police officer here," Paul chimed in, raising a hand.

"YES," Tom said, taking the help. Then he continued to advertise. "We have a master hacker, a skilled politician and blackbelt fighter, and... hmmm... "

He turned to Jonathan and then said: "Jonathan here brings SO MUCH to the table. He's of peak human agility and one of the most exceptional parkour pros in the world, he's got military training, he's able to fly aircraft, he speaks multiple languages-"

Tom stopped.

Damn it I think I've overplayed this card.

Then he said he turned to Zac and said:

"Not everyone here is exceptional at combat, I get that. But EVERYONE has something exceptional to bring. Zack... believe it or not we could really use your help. You're very skilled at designing and building things, tinkering, creating, INNOVATING."

He leaned closer across the table to make a final point.

"Ultimately, Zack, this is a decision you must make but I... I know there is something really wrong with the world and I feel that you've grown up knowing this as well; the United Mafia... they BEAT on the innocent. This world, it's not right. I could feel it ever since the day I was born and I've always sought to make a difference, to fix things, to make it all better. We go about our lives every day, we wake up, do the things we are told to do, go through our routines but the universe... it's fundamentally out of tune and sometimes, it's made that way by really nasty people. This is a chance to fight back... really fight back, to really make a big difference."

[Kaledoria]

Lorelei

She was glad, that Tom came around giving a more detailed overview of the team's capabilities. By now Lorelei had heard the names of most of the people present and quietly repeated them to herself, to burn it into her memory. Then she added something to what Tom said: "If I may - there is another thing. This should not cause us to carelessly rush a plan but now is the best time to act. Earlier today, I found a number of bounties popping up on the internet. Set up in advance by some mid to high ranking mobsters in case someone killed them. The killer in all cases was Aurora Von Staffen. What does that mean? Well, I don't think that given the enemies the Queen has, another like ten million Dollars or so on her head bother her very much. Plus she has hackers of her own. While the Web-End of those revenge funds seem to be well encrypted, once they look into the victims' connections, computers and bank history, I guess they will be able to trace the servers of those revenge funds and take them down in a few weeks.

But more importantly: Those mobsters that were killed - and I assume, there are even more that I don't know about - by their names, ages and what a quick search about them brought up, they were old school. They had their own resources, they own contacts, their underlings loyal to them in person. By killing them, Aurora has actually weakened the Mafia on short term. However as crime abhors a vacuum and there is no other crime organization to fill the opportunities they left open, sooner or later Aurora will have replaced those Dons. And her organizational structure is much more like a modern company then the pseudo-medieval-feudal-vassalage of the old school Mafiosi. Thus on the long run, she will emerge from this stronger then before.

Therefor, now is the best time to act. A window of opportunity that WILL be closing." She said the last part specifically directed at Zack, then turned to Tom: "As for hacking into military facilities. The standard barracks rely entirely on the fact, that they are protected from the internet by proxies with basically unbreakable firewalls. Behind those, the security, is actually pretty outdated. Someone has to go in but I can give you a little toy and if you find any USB or telephone port or almost any wlan, you can open the door for me."

Lorelei could not help but feel a little hype growing in her, about the idea of breaking open that Vault.

[CoraSpia]

Kevin

"I might have a little something that could help you with that," Kevin suggested, taking something from his pocket. "There's a mafia scientist named Pietro Gamgee. I've got that guy to thank for me being here I guess although I've my own special way of saying thanks...well anyway, I had to bite his hand off today. He doesn't taste very nice let me tell you. Anyway..." he slid a large keyring with several USB drives across the table "I got his access keys while he was rolling around on the floor whining about having his hand bitten off. They'll be disabled soon but I doubt anyone important has learned they're missing yet. The guy was pretty high-ranking so you might have a short window in which you can gain some knowledge of mafia systems...long enough, I would imagine, to see whether the security systems at the vault that George designed have been changed and updated in some way. Or...I might have given you a load of useless USB drives."