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RPG Bullets and Drugs: Volatile Mix [Language, sex references]


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[OOC: This begins about a week before the shipment is found out. Mafia are being called to Sicily for a meeting, of all the heads. The Mafia people are acting as bodyguards for the Godfathers and other Mafia heads attending. Yakuza are currently sending for the shipment, and just doing Yakuza stuff.]

[i]Petir gazed idly out of the window of the Mercedes Benz. As the car wound its way through the twisting streets of the upperclass Sicilian residences, pedestrians sent it nervous glances.

There was only one type of person who would drive such a car in such a place.

Mafia Dons.

The Benz swung through the wide cast iron gates of the Sicilian Godfather's official residence. It's specially re-inforced tires crucnhed on the gravel as it slowed, then stopped, exactly five feet from the massive cathedral style front door of the mansion.

The door opened, and a bustle of bodyguards came out, shepherding Don Vladimir Merzeskey into the cool marble interior, and safety of the hall.

Inside, waiting was the Sicilian Godfather, Don Marseilles Merconi.

Who would bow down to who?

The bodyguards tensed, trigger fingers inching as their hands moved towards their coats.

Eventually Merzeskey relieved the tension by stepping forward and extending his hand.[/i]

[OOC: Sicilian Mafia are here. Other Mafia groups will be arriving shortly. Keep in mind that this is extremely formal, these are some of the worlds most powerful men here.]
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[color=royalblue][i]Sayuri Okimura slid the button of her blazer out of the slit and slowly let it fall down past her shoulders. She was kneeling on a desktop, the type nice and wide, and very sturdy. And the lucky male sitting across from her was nearly creaming his pants. Sayuri let it fall off completely, revealing her utter lack of bra or singlet of any sort.

Her delicate looking lips parted slowly, and her voice was a smooth continental lilt, with just a hint of an asian accent of some sort...the type the man couldn't place.[/i]

"....you do realize...that I'll expect something in return for this..."

"...the shipment is handled without a hitch, we know."

"Good boy......"

[i]She crawled across the length of the desk and slid into his lap, and started undoing the buttons of his own blazer and dress shirt. Both hit the floor in a very short ammount of time, accompanied by her dress pants.[/i][/color]
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[COLOR=green]"Green" relaxed his grip on the Uzi concealed in his jacket. He had seriously doubted that a full-fledged firefight would break out right in the middle of Don Merconi's house. However, when working with the Mafia, nothing is certain. It was uncommon, but Dons had been known to kill one another over trivial matters.

Not like he cared, he'd killed one hundred and seventy three men. Some of his associates had killed so many they couldn?t keep track. He was more careful than that. Besides, knowing whom you'd killed was important. It wouldn't be wise to associate with the kindred of his victims, as they might retaliate against him. That could mean trouble, although it couldn't possibly be as bad as the assassination he had carried out last year.

There was a certain American politician who was making a point of running Mafia organizations out of business. Naturally, he'd been dealt with. However, the bomb that Jedgar had placed in the courtroom had, along with obliterating the forty-nine people inside, killed a young Japanese thug who'd just been acquitted of murder. Later it had become apparent that the young Japanese man had been the son of a high-ranking Yakuza official.

That was where the trouble had begun. He later received a letter apparently from the father of the man he'd accidentally killed. It demanded that Jedgar surrender himself to the Yakuza, or be killed. Ever since, there had been attempts on his life. Not something that bothered Jedgar, in fact it kept him on his toes. What really worried him was that there was someone in the Mafia who was informing the Yakuza of his movements. Eventually, that person would have to be found and killed.

His attention snapped back to the present as the visiting Don was ushered into a lavishly decorated waiting room. This room?s centerpiece was a long wooden table, with many chairs around it. It was here that the meeting of the Dons would occur. It was here that the annual meeting of the leadership of the Mafia would set the tone of the organization?s operations for the next year. It was also here that the traitor would most likely be found? [/COLOR]
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[color=violet]Mitsuko sat in her small bar, twirling her toothpick that sat in the martini that she was drinking. She sighed, quite bored at this time.

"Well, no use in calling Sayuri. Knowing her, she's busy....with someone or something." she laughed, leaning back into her chair. She eyed the DJ that was carrying his equipment inside.

"What are you doing here? It's not time for you to set up." she saw the boy smile.

"Indeed it is, kaasan. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to set up." she waved her hand, picking up her drink with her unoccupied one. She gulped down the drink, placing the glass down on the counter. Mitsuko laid her head down, folding her arms around herself. She closed her eyes, hearing the door open.

"Yo Tashuro, set up in the back." she yelled, hearing no reply. She hear loud, slight clanking footsteps coming towards her...[/color]
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[color=royalblue][i]With her teeth, she leaned over and undid his fly, then using her tongue, undid the top button on his dickies. His moan in her ears, was an incredible turn on, but she willed herself to remain calm. He had a gun in the desk, that much she knew, but as for its whereabouts....she wasn't so sure. Her earrings clacked against eachother musically and she slid her naked body up against his. He groaned and rubbed his hands against her ample hips.[/i]

"...mmm...enjoying yourself?"

[i]Her voice was a seductive purr, and he felt his better judgement slipping away. He didn't trust his voice, so he kissed her instead. She played along, rubbing herself against his *BEEP* and letting him have his fun.

Several hours later, the both of them lying on the table top, she looked at her watch and sighed.[/i]

"Time's up."

"Always a pleasure."

"Good. See you around then."

[i]She stood and got dressed swiftly....cleaning herself off here and there where necessary.[/i]

"Ta Sayuri."

[i]She sauntered out on her heels, waving over her shoulder.[/i][/color]
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[color=violet]By this time, Kisumaaku was in full swing. Mitsuko sat up in the VIP room, overlooking the club. She leaned against the railing, narrowing her eyes slightly. In her left hand, she held a glass of scotch in her hand, moving it slightly to the beat of the music.

She watched the crowd move to the rhythem, seeing 8 girls dancing on the stage. She laughed at the Aller-Vont les filles (Go-Go girls), moving her eyes towards the door that opened.

She sighed, staring at Terran. "Well, are they here?" she saw her nod, sitting on the plush sofa. Mitsuko clapped her hands, seeing a group of 5 men come into the room.

"Well, gentlemen. I believe you saw our women....which ones, le plus cher (dearest)?"

She sat on the sofa next to Terran, crossing her legs, looking at the burly man that stood in front of the small table.

"Well, we all like the girl down there in pink...and the girl in the light blue."

Mitsuko chuckled, "Oh, Tatsumi and Naomi, the twins." she smirked, standing up. "Well, Terran handles this...so I'll let her show you the way...and I wouldn't screw her over." she saw the man pale. "She's not one to mess with, adieu."[/color]
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[color=chocolate]Rebecca's heels clicked purposefully across the lush marble of the now-empty foyer. Having been privy to the sight of Merconi and Merzesky successfully greet each other with no bloodshed, she wanted some fresh air, not to mention to leave the tenseness of the room behind.

She stepped out into the cool evening, wondering when the next luxury car would be seen gliding down the long driveway. She would continue to stay in the background, of course, but Rebecca considered it a privilege even to be this close at a meeting of the Mafia gods. She always called them "gods" in her mind, because that's what they were to her: the ones who held the decisions about everything that would occur in the city, including life and death.

A man walked out from the same door, one she recognized as having stood next to Merzeskey a few moments before. One of his top bodyguards, no doubt. She smiled at him, his firm jawline, smoky eyes, rich, dark hair. And of course he smiled back.

"I did not know that Merconi's women were invited tonight, as well," he said, his accent thick but his voice soft and appealing.

Rebecca flicked her hair behind her shoulder, half-insulted. "I'm not one of Merconi's 'women,' unless you're referring to a non-sexual employment," she said, haughtiness evident in her tone.

"Excuse me, I don't know how I could have made such a mistake," the other returned, "except perhaps that you are so beautiful that I could not have expected other talents could have been distributed to you as well."

The line was cheesy, even a bit clumsy, but Rebecca smiled anyway, at least until her name was barked out by someone else.[/color]
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[i][color=lightpink]"Rebecca!" Julia Valaire Coren called out some, trying to get her attention, her blonde curls flowing over her bare shoulders, and onto the black fur that conected to her red silky dress. There could have been some blood on it and no one would notice it. "Oh The meetings are about to start and I thought you would like to know that. I'm informing people about it. So don't be late. They don't like people to read their watches wrong." She smiles some and waves to the man informing him as well. She turned on her heal walking away from them down the hall, the train of her dress following her.[/color][/i]
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[OOC: I assume that you were referring to me terra]

Petir sighed wistfully. Ah well, that was a hot one. But there was always time later. 'Rasputin' called him inside, the meetings were about to start.

Petir flicked the last of his cigarette onto the ground, and walked inside, heading for the 'Boardroom' as they all referred to it. He stepped inside, and headed for the front row. The room was organised into thirds, situated around a central, circular table.

Sicily, America and Russia, each section measured to the exact same length as the others. Expanding rings radiated outwards from the expensive Oaken table. Seated directly at the table were 12 people. 3 dons, and each of the top 3 Clan-Leaders. Then came a ring of bodyguards, the Elite-Guards [where Petir took his seat], then the Clan-Leaders and bodyguards, then regional leaders. The main heads of the entire Mafia family were seated in one room. The tension was strong, but the family... was stronger.

The Mafia literally owned whole countries.

But, unbeknowst to them, something, very soon, could change that.

Glancing across to the Sicilian section, Petir espied the girl from the balcony. Catching her eye, he winked outrageously at her, then turned to survey the rest of the room.
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[size=1][color=999999][i]Terran watched as Mitsuko walked out of the V.I.P. room, her heels clapping against the ground as she walked. The four others looked at her waist as she walked. Terran smirked and looked towards the gentleman in front of her. She offered him a seat and he sat.

Mitsuko took Tatsumi and Naomi off of the stage and walked them to their dressing rooms. Terran looked at the four men who stood behind the large man.

Smiling, Terran stood up and walked to the bar in the room. The gentlemen looked on as she did. She could feel their eyes follow her every move. She poured herself some white wine and looked to the man sitting in the chair.[/i]

"Drink?" [i]She possessed a silky, flowing voice with an asian accent that seemed impossible to recognize. It seemed as if she spoke with the voice of an angel.[/i]

[i]It seemed the man was entranced in her voice. He could not get it off of his mind.[/i] "Hmm? Scotch on the rocks, please."

[i]Terran put her drink aside and grabbed a smaller, round glass with ridges and filled it with ice and poured scotch into it along with a little flavor of whiskey. She took the drinks and handed the scotch to the man. She then took her seat.[/i]

"Before we begin, I am Terran Sung, the manager of the club. And you are?" [i]Terran asked with curiosity. She had a recorder in her crystal raindrop. They had no idea.[/i]

"My name is Kisho Hatsurokin." [i]The man answered back.[/i]

"Pleasure to meet you. Now, about the girls. You asked for Tatsumi and Naomi, the twins. You must understand that they are two of our best dancers and they are also twins, so, it will be a double price, which is a price for each girl. Do you understand?" [i]Terran began the deal with introduction as to how it will be done.[/i]

"Yes. I do." [i]Kisho replied with confidence of paying for only one price for two. He was thinking, he would try to take the girls for a cheaper price.[/i] "For the two girls, I would presume at least 10,000 Yen would be sufficient? I mean, 5,000 Yen for each should be sufficient. Correct?"

"No. For top dancers, twins, and private use, they will cost......21,556 Yen. $200 in US money. How will you pay? Cash or check? We do not take credit and we do not accept sent money." [i]Terran knew exactly what Kisho was trying to do.[/i]

"That seems a bit much. Are you sure you calculated right? I mean it should be at least 10,000 to 20,000 Yen, shouldn't it?" [i]Kisho was still trying to manipulate Terran into giving him the two girls for a lower price.[/i]

[i]Terran was not amused. She was in fact getting ready to leap at Kisho and drag him outside and throw him out. She kept it within her.[/i] "Mister Hatsurokin, are you trying to get me to give you Tatsumi and Naomi for a better price than the one I have just said? If you are, then you have failed twice to do so. Now, I am going to tell you not to try a third time. As Mitsuko told you, I am not one to easily manipulated." [i]Terran restrained herself from tearing the man at his throat. She kept a serious face and her voice was not angelic anymore, it was more threatening and it put fear in his eyes.[/i] "So, I ask again. How will you pay? Cash or check? US or Japanese? The offer still stands at 21,556 Yen or 200 dollars for each girl." [i]Terran said as she took out a contract for Kisho to sign.[/i]

[i]Kisho straightened up and suddenly sat up straight. He looked into Terran's eyes and knew she meant business. He took out a pen and signed at the X and the dotted line. He then initialed and was finger printed. It was a done deal.

As they were about to leave, he snapped his fingers and the far left man came to him with his wallet. He took out 21,556 Yen. He handed it to Terran and she smiled.[/i]

"Pleasure doing business with you. Gentlemen. If you would excuse me, Hatsuri will escort you out."

[i]Terran left the room and walked down the stairs the dressing rooms. She saw Tatsumi and Naomi's room and knocked.[/size][/color][/i]
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[COLOR=royalblue]*cough* Somebody find me in the club....
~~~~~~~~
[i]She smiled and listened to the click of her stiletto heels against the pavement. Her light cream peach suit turned heads, but when she came to the club of the Yakuza, the bouncers nearly killed eachother opening the door for her. She flashed a dazzling smile at both and headed down the stairs to the basement.

The dance floor was crowded, the bar was packed, and she weaved her way through the steaming crowds blissfully. Everyone that knew her....nearly everyone there, parted for her and let her make her way to the back room. The next set of guards stared at her, then had a quiet tussle before one of them searched her. She put up with it and surrendered her gun. The knife, they did not find, and she smiled thinly to herself. Nobody ever had....except maybe her employer.

He looked up from his files and welcomed her with a slight smile. She smiled back at him and sat down in the offered chair, crossing her legs calmly. She leaned back on her elbows and smiled once more. He asked the question with her eyes, she answere with one of their pre-determined signals. He sat back in his chair and laughed heartily.

......

Somewhere at a shipping station, a package was sent to Taipei, Taiwan.

......

Sayuri Okimura purred.[/i][/COLOR]
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[color=violet]Mitsuko went though the girls' wardrobe, deciding to pick out some matching outfits, which would entice the men, seeing as though they liked twins. She pulled out two dresses, both black, and handed them to her twins, which were looking scared at the moment.

Mitsuko sighed, telling the first one, Tatsumi, to come over. The girl nodded nervously, walking towards Mitsuko. "Now, now Tatsu-chan, I'm not going to hurt you. Have I ever?"

"No Kaasan. You've been quite good to me, and to my sister." Mitsuko smiled, sitting her down in a chair and began brushing her hair.

"Naomi, you can go and get dressed...I'll fix your hair after Tatsu-chan." Naomi nodded, grabbing the dress and going into the bathroom. Mitsuko looked after her...she caught the look of hatred in her eye and sighed. "It seems as though Nao-chan hates me."

Tatsumi was quick to reply, "That's not it...no, that's not what she feels."

Mitsuko raised an eyebrow, continously brushing her hair. "Do you hate me too?"

The girl was hesistent. "N-no." she replied. Mitsuko sighed, putting her hair up into a bun. "There...now, go get dressed."

She saw Tatsumi scurry off and in her place, Naomi soon came. She sat her in chair, letting Naomi do her own hair. She stood in front of the mirror. "Do you hate your kaasan, Nao-chan?"

She scoffed, "Do you want me to lie, [i]Kaasan[/i] or to tell the truth?" she replied venomously, narrowing her eyes at Mitsuko.

Mitsuko looked back at her, "Just answer the damn question. I don't need your smart attitude today."

She looked at Naomi through the mirror, seeing her slam the brush down on the table. "Yes, [i]Neisha[/i]. I hate you...and those people that you call "family". I hate you all. You all should burn in hell!" she yelled, unaware of exactly what she did.

Mitsuko narrowed her eyes angrily, throwing her hand back instantly, connecting it with Naomi's face. "Vous wretch! Vous wretch ungrateful! Apr├Ęs que tous que j'ai faits pour vous, et vous dites ceci! Sortez de ma vue!(You wretch! You ungrateful wretch! After all I did for you, and you say this! Get out of my sight!)" she yelled, seeing Tatsumi come in.

Naomi cried, cradling her face. Tatsumi pulled Naomi into the bathroom, closing the door. She sighed, sitting down in the chair when she heard someone knock on the door. "Come in!"

She smiled slightly, seeing Terran come in, but heard the phone ring. Pressing a button, she sighed. "Yes?"

"Nei-chan, you told me to call when Lidan came in." the bouncer spoke.

"Yes, she's here, right?"

"Yeah, she's here alright." he replied, sounding a litte worked up. She scoffed. "Well, she headed down to the "main" room..so she's probably there."

Mitsuko got up, "All right then, merci(thank you)." she hung up, heading out the door. "Well, let's go and see her, then." she saw Terran nod, closing the door behind her.[/color]
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OOC: Haha, I hadn't been Baron ... But that works out rather well, actually :).

[color=chocolate]Rebecca turned away with impatience to see one of Merconi's men, Marco. He'd tried to sleep with her several times, she remembered.

"Yes?" she said tersely, annoyed at the interruption.

"What do you think you're doing?" Marco said, obviously displeased as well. "That's one of [i]them[/i]."

"He's a man, isn't he?" Rebecca shrugged.

"There's men enough in your own family," Marco snapped back.

"Oh, honestly, it's not like we were going to go at it on the spot or anything," Rebecca said with a roll of her eyes. "We were just talking. Besides ... I was bored."

"Well, there's plenty for you to do besides Merzeskey's men. Go in to the meeting to help keep watch, it's about to start and they could always do with a little extra cover."

"I could do with a little extra something else," Rebecca muttered insolently as she turned away. Unfortunately, Marco had a slightly higher position in the family than she did, and she decided she'd better obey his orders just in case he got childish and tried to rat her out later.

She entered the room and stood among the other Sicilians, immediately putting on a slightly more demure and respectful face than she'd shown to Marco. There was no help for it, though, when the man she'd spoken to earlier caught her eye to give her what was really the most audacious wink. She replied automatically and in kind, running her tongue along her lips, before turning her attention back to the matter at hand.[/color]
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[i]Giovanni stood gripping the top of the grand seat around the table. His fingers fondled the expensive fabric as the meeting began to go under way. He noticed Rebecca, whom was one of the Sicilians, flirting with one of those communist pricks! Giovanni shook these jelous and arrogant thoughts out of his head and re thought them over. He knew that he would need to stop thinking negative about the Russians, this was what this whole meeting was about, cooperation. The other feeling running through his mind was...that guy is god damn lucky. He eyed Rebecca up and down and then turned back to the matter at hand. He noticed that Don Merconi was ready to speak. He tapped his glass with his one of his massive gold rings. A beautiful melody chimmed and rang through the ears of everyone in the room, it fell silent...deadly silent.

Don Merconi cleared his throat and stood up.[/i]

Don: I want to thank you all for coming today, the meeting shall commence in a matter of minutes, HOWEVER! I urge that everyone...EVERYONE! Take their fingers off of their triggers.

[i]He looked at a select few from all the 3 parties and then continued.[/i]

Don: Thank you, we would like to see this meeting through with nothing more than negotiation. The meeting will start once everyone has introduced themselves.

[i]There was no need for introductions, everyone knew [b]exactly[/b] whom everyone was. Don Merconi however always asked for introduction from everyone seated and the head few from the standing, it was his tradmark at meetings, therefore, tradition.[/i]
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[size=1][color=olive][i]Interestingly enough, Gen was nowhere near the club where the bulk of the Yakuza activities were currently taking place. Instead, he was wandering around in a nearby park, which to him reminded him faintly of his homeless days. Passerbys hurrying by to get home from work shot him patronizing glances, to which Gen paid little or no attention. He knew that his grey and withering trench coat was unattractive and perhaps a bit too old. But little did he care about what others thought of it. He liked antiques, he liked old things, he liked things with history. He usually had to buy them, but this trench coat was his with his own history to it. So he would keep it.

It was a bit chilly. But Gen was too engrossed in something that only he could see to feel the cold. He just stared at something distant, vaguely and blankly. Some of the passerbys who saw his eyes turned to see what he was looking at, then shook their heads and walked away, finding nothing particularly interesting about whatever Gen's gaze just happened to hit. But what they saw was one thing. What he saw was another. He sat down with a little cough on a park bench, stretching his back and letting his trench coat ruffle a bit in the cool breeze. Anyone observant enough would have seen that under the trench coat, he had a rather handsome set of black shirt and pants. Courtesy of him joining the Yakuza. Come to think of it, he really couldn't place his fingers on why he actually joined. He just happened to be there one day. It was a while since he joined, but he still didn't see the exact point. But anyway.

"Soro soro ka... (It's almost time...)" he muttered softly as he checked his watch.

Gen stretched his arms tiredly, then stood up. He dug his hands into his pocket, then fished out two 500 yen coins. He was hungry. He should get something to eat first. Before he forgot, he also took out a cell phone. He didn't want it, but his superiors insisted he keep it. He didn't know why, but he had it. He was expecting a call if he remembered correctly. But first, food. Gen sauntered off to the exit of the park, a bit hungry. [/size][/color][/i]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She smiled at her employer and slid across the desk on her hands and knees, legs stretched out lazily. But this time, she was operating on pure lust, and not hope of anything much to gain. Her boss was smiling as well, out of partial lust and partial amusement. Sayuri Okimura had always treated him with the cool-eyed demeanour he had not seen enough of in a world of shy and delicate Japanese girls. She was one of the select few half breds that looked decidedly asian, but retained many "American" qualities. Boldness, Independence, Passion, and Pride. The last two were something that quite endeared her to him.

He leaned over and was about to kiss her when the clock on the wall chimed 5. He leaned over her body and picked up the phone, hitting the appropriate speed dial button.

The conversation ensuing was rattled out in swift Japanese. Sayuri picked up barely enough, as it was spoken in another dialect, and she smiled to herself. Men. He set the phone down and addressed her directly.[/i]

"I'm sending him to this restaraunt, meet him there please."

[i]She took the card and smiled once more.[/i]

"Of course."[/COLOR]
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[size=1][color=999999][i]Hearing the door close behind her, Terran looked around at the crowd. The Yakuza club was bouncing with activity. She looked to Mitsuko flare with anger. She scoffed and waited for her.[/i]

"Don't be angry about Naomi. She's a young one. She'll manage. Remember how we used to be when we were young, Mitsuko."

[i]Mitsuko smiled a bit and walked with Terran to find Sayuri. Terran sighed looked around the club to find an entrance to find Sayuri. The two women walked through the crowd that parted for them. Some bowed at the two. Terran and Mitsuko just waved them off as they did. Soon, they was near the main room. Guards were posted everywhere. Terran smirked and walked to the stairs. She was followed by Mitsuko. But, Terran was stopped by the first set.

It seemed that the first set were trainees of the guards that were checking those who came in through the doors. The first set of guards just looked to her. They looked to each other and one of them held their hand out. Terran just stared at the hand then at his face.[/i]

"Is there something you need?" [i]Terran asked with a bit of a threat in her tone.[/i]

"I would like to see I.D, please. We are not allowed to send anyone up there. The Boss doesn't like just anyone." [i]The guard had the nerve to speak to the two that way.[/i]

[i]Mitsuko had enough. She was about to shout at the guard, but she was stopped by Terran. Terran looked to the guard and smiled. It wasn't a smile of kindness, but a smile of threat.[/i]

"Excuse me. What did you say your name was?" [i]She addressed him.[/i]

[i]The guard became baffled. He looked to his partner. He was confused as well. He then turned to Terran.[/i] "Will Johnson."

"Do you have any idea who we are?" [i]Terran said in a soft, kind voice that disguised her threatening tone.[/i]

[i]The two guards shook their heads and looked to Terran and Mitsuko.[/i]

"Well, I'm Terran Sung, the manager of the club. My partner is Mitsuko Aki, the owner of the club. We are the ones who [i]work[/i] for your boss. We are the ones who keep this club up and running. Now, if you will excuse us, we have business with your boss." [i]Terran was now annoyed withe the two guards.[/i]

[i]She was about to step past them, when she heard a door open. She looked up to see Sayuri coming towards the stairs. The guards turned their heads as well. Sayuri stood at the top of stairs and look to the four.[/i]

"What's going on here? Is there a problem?" [i]She said as she came down the stairs.[/i]

[i]The guard named Will straightened up as he saw Sayuri. He tried to look professional as possible.[/i] "No, there isn't, ma'am. We were just about to send these two ladies who claim to be the manager and owner of the club. They claim to be Terran Sung and Mitsuko Aki."

[i]Terran began to mumble under her breath in her native tongue, korean.[/i] "Mooseun mung-chunghan nomineh." (What an idiotic guy.)

[i]Sayuri looked to Terran and she just kept quiet. Sayuri then nodded and warned the guards. There after, she kept walking, Terran and Mitsuko followed.[/i][/size][/color]
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[color=royalblue]"My dear William, they ARE who they say they ARE."

"Oh excuse me."

"That's better."

[i]The two rushed past them, the guards looking pathetic. Sayuri looked down on them, rather annoyed.[/i]

"If you have half a grain of sense, you will never stop them from coming up again. .....if you do, I will not see you fired. I will see you disembowled."

[i]She let the two in the room quietly and exited, closing the door behind her. She had no interest in hearing what would come. Instead she was busy walking back down the stairs to the Restauraunt where would meet Gen. ......he was interested in her, but only minimally. This piqued her own interest. Someone who wasn't drooling all over her, more of a challenge. Go her.[/i][/color]
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[size=1][color=olive][i]Gen deposited his cell phone back into his pocket, a trifle annoyed. He wasn't exactly fond of being told where to be and what to do, but there was one crucial factor which attracted him to his latest order. Food. Homeless days taught him one thing. Food was crucial for one's survival. If he recalled the conversation correctly, the boss said something about sending someone over. So hopefully, free food. He was hungry after all, and 1000 yen won't buy good food. So he was quite happy when weighing the factors.

"Onaka suita... (I'm hungry...)" he murmured childishly.

He stopped at the water fountain at the entrance of the park and took a quick drink. He was exposed to alcohol when he entered the Yakuza system, but he didn't enjoy them. Water was the best, perhaps because it quenched his thirst ever since he was sure of himself. He hoped that he didn't have to drink at the meeting. He was terribly weak against alcohol, and the last time he drank, he had no memory of what he did save that it probably was something embarassing. All he found out later was that he broke the bones of a few people. But back to the current situation.

He took out the crumpled piece of paper on which he wrote down the address of the restaurant. 'Akane Ryoutei' the paper read. Oh good. If he recalled correctly, it was one of the best restaurants in the vicinity, but he simply never carried enough money to go there. He did have money. He just didn't carry much. Yakuza jobs paid well but out of habit he didn't carry them. Gen yawned slightly, then walked off towards the restaurant, more hungry than curious as to what awaited him. He could find out if he wanted. [/i][/color][/size]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She was waiting by the doors, and he was not late. His jacket, she liked it.... it spoke of character, like her own suit. He didn't recognize her right off, but then he took a few steps closer, and did. She smiled at him and held out her hand. He took it and held it briefly.[/i]

"Sayuri Okimura....sent to meet you personally....for the first time since our last meeting."

[i]He took her hand, oddly disturbed by her in general. The line of her face, the feathering of her hair, he couldn't quite place her nationality. That and he could barely remember her face from their meeting..... .....he sighed and gave up remembering, and greeted her civilly.[/i]

"Gen, pleasure to finally meet you."

"The feeling is mutual...Gen."

[i]She turned and entered the building. He followed, the doors opened for them by what could've been bouncers in butler's clothing. The Akane Ryoutei was luxurious in the extreme, speaking faintly of nouvelle cuisine, but also highly odd in that it was distinctly Oriental. They removed their shoes and the butler/bouncer took Gen's overcoat.[/i]

"Ah...I knew there was as handsome man underneath that."

[i]She laughed softly and smiled at him.[/i][/COLOR]
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As host, Merconi gestured for one of the other Dons to lead them into introductions.

The American Don, Jason der' Ottowelm stood first. He introduced himself, and his top area chiefs. Chicago, New York, Detroit and Las Vegas. Big cities, big income, big work.

Then Merzeskey stood, and introduced his area chiefs. Moscow, Voldograd, St. Petersburg and Yetrema.

Merconi then stood, and repeated his own introductions.

Then they got down to business. Accountants presented income figures, pie graphs of areas covered, reports on rival organisations, news, gang wars, Government problems. Drug imports, the sex trade, politics, racketeering. Nothing was sacred in the game of life.

Petir's eyes flickered around the room. There were men he recognised, from previous jobs, or reputation. By far the most impresisve in appearance were the Americans. Whilst Russian's tended to dress 'down', and the Sicilians were rather formal, the American's egos perpetuated grandness. Some of the hitmen there had a tattoo made for every murder they had done. They were big, muscle-bound thugs. Not all of them, but a few.

As the presenter droned on, Petir found himself nodding off. To stimulate his interest, he sought out any ladies in the groups. In front of him, Petir watched the Russian women fawning over the don. It was sickening, and they did nothing for him. They were... contemptible. However, many of the American women, and even some of the Sicilian ones were... iyeh. Real pieces.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Petir dreaded the long hours ahead. The night was yet early, but, at the end. Ahah, carousment.

The big drinking spree.

Those parties were wild. Damn sicilians, they knew how to have a good time.

Grinning to himself, Petir drew his attention back to the present.
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[size=1][color=olive][i]Straight on, Gen scrapped his former ideas and hunger, and regretted coming. First step in, he hated the place. First off, way too formal. The utter formality in there overwhelmed him. He was never used to being formal, particularly because of his 'childhood' or perhaps because of his 'blood lines'. Either way, they didn't really give him much formality, and he always felt pretty awkward in such high class restaurants. But worst of all, the butler. Gen suspected slightly that he was a bouncer in the past, but what irritated him the most was that he took his trench coat. Though it was most likely against the restaurant's policies, he still preferred to have the trench coat with him. Damn the butler.

"Ah... I knew there was a handsome man underneath that." said the... what's her name... oh yes, Sayuri with a smile.

To this, Gen merely raised his eyebrows. He was none too interested in women. Vague visions he had a few times in the past spoke to him of their danger, especially in their ability to seduce and manipulate. For this, he kept strict watches on women, specifically those near him. He decided to add Sayuri to the list.

"I understand... that I am to have a certain responsibility placed upon me..." he said bluntly. "Your employer... called me a while back, and explained that I will be.... filled in here."

Quite honestly, he just wanted to leave. The formality was crushing him, and from the little drunken laughter erupting here and there in the restaurant, he gathered that they served rather strong alcoholic beverages. He usually had trouble saying no to them, and he preferred to get out before he was placed in such a predicament. [/size][/color][/i]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]Sayuri noticed his discomfort, and his distrust of her right off....it rang clear and loud. Like a klaxon in her senses. She drew him with her to a private room. He exhaled slowly. The butler caught Sayuri's eye and brought back the coat as well. ....she noticed how uncomfortable he looked without it. And amzingly enough, when they were in the room alone, he didn't put on the coat, merely held it over his arm.

She raised an eyebrow, but knelt at the low table and folded her hands on the top. He glanced at her, then sat as well.[/i]

".....I don't like crowds myself."

".....the formality crushes."

"Yes, but it must be endured to succeed sometimes."

"I don't need your kind of success."

"It takes all kinds."

[i]She gave him an odd look. It might've been anger, might've been amusement. The waiter entered quietly and bowed. Gen looked at the waiter, who was obviously nothing more than a waiter.[/i]

"Water please."

"Chrysanthemum tea please."

[i]After the waiter departed, Sayuri smiled at Gen ever so slightly and brought out a piece of rice paper, covered with calligraphy.[/i]

"The details are all there. ....I hope the terms are satisfactory. If they are not...."

[i]She shrugged and quietly felt her knife shift in its place.[/i][/COLOR]
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[size=1][color=olive][i]Gen took a moment to shoot a quick glance at Sayuri before dropping his gaze at the paper. Much dabbling in the way the Yakuza dealt taught him one thing. They were always, always, always armed when striking deals. Therefore, little Ms. Innocent before him was armed. He wasn't in the mood for quarreling, and he pretty much decided to take the job even before he looked at the paper. He took a quick glance at the paper. Surprising to him was that this was field work. Instead of the planning and plotting that he was usually presented with, his job was... body guard... along with, to his rather unpleasant discovery, the female before him.

"Field work...." he muttered, failing to suppress his surprise.

"Oh? I thought you would have known." she said shrewdly.

Apparently, she heard of his 'sight'.

Not exactly amused but hopeful to get the deal done and over with, Gen replied quietly.

"I shall take the job. You don't have to put the knife in me." he said calmly.

Sayuri laughed softly, mildly impressed. Gen sighed, and folded up the piece of paper carefully, placing it in his chest pocket. The waiter entered with the drinks, placing the water in front of Gen, the tea in front of Sayuri, and stood there religiously, waiting to take their orders. [/size][/color][/i]
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[color=chocolate]Rebecca listened to most of what was said at the table. She had to admit that the figures could get boring at times, but she forced herself to stay focused on them, knowing it was always at her advantage to be aware of what was going on in the world. Particularly the Mafia world.

She couldn't help but notice the man she'd spoken to earlier, though, as he was sitting in her plain view, nearly directly across the table. He had a somewhat glassy expression on his face that occasionally refocused, but more often on the women in the room than the current speaker of the meeting.

When she saw him eventually turn his gaze to her, she smiled a little contemptuously, eyes raised slightly, as if to say, [i]I'm not better than the other women in here?[/i]

She flicked her eyes away quickly, so that he couldn't even completely be sure if the look was intended to him. The person she'd inadvertently looked to was Giovanni, watching her. She could guess from her earlier experience with Marco earlier that he similarly might disapprove of her flirting with someone outside the Sicilian family. She smiled sunnily at him, a marked and complete change from her rather cooler demeanor towards the Russian, before returning her attention to the presenter once more.

As informational as all of it was, she was beginning to wish it were all over, if for nothing else to allow for some social activities.[/color]
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