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"ya know, I've left ya alone this long 'cuz you remind me o' me. Tony took me in when I was about your age, and I was a made man. I thought I was the shit, knew i was in fact. But what I was, well, I was just a punk with a mouth. Like you. Then Tony did me a favor. He knocked some sense into me. I think this tony's gonna do the same thing for you, Durden my boy..."

::While he spoke, Tony and his men moved closer, with his men stopping about 10 feet away, and Tony himself stopping right in front of you to finish his conversation. And then, suddenly, he strikes::

(i need your defense rating)

(( o snap! ))

(dammit. uhm, 7, but I elect to spend a Willpower to increase it to 9)


:: Durden ducks and weaves the old man's swing ::

http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1648003/
3d10.open(10) → [8,[10, 5],[10, 9]] = (42)

(lucky roll. 42... er 4. take 4 glorious lethal.)

::Durden moves faster than mortal eyes, and some kindred, can follow. But somehow Tony's fist managed to find you, perhaps timing your movement, or maybe he's just that fast. After hitting you, he prepares to land another blow, but takes a slightly defensive posture while doing so...::

:: Durden wipes his bleeding lips and smiles, taking a more defensive boxer's stance ::

"Best ya got, old man?"

:: Durden bursts forward, throwing a one-two combination (Boxing level ***) at Tony ::

*Activates Celerity and Vigor, and uses multiple signs and keyboard symbols to confuse combat....%^&*

(Durden hits
Attack roll: 1st punch - 10d10 → [7,7,6,5,6,2,6,2,5,4] = (50)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1648037/
2nd punch - 10d10 → [1,8,7,8,2,8,7,9,7,3] = (60)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1648039/)

(If this continues, friend, I will happily allow you to make rolls for me. Post them or hide them, it's all good)

(sorry for some reason there was a day where nothing updated for me)

Ya I am interested in anything you can give me. They seem to want to cause trouble in the city, especially for people like us. I want to keep from messing with the Carthians as much as posable.

(rather than going back and forcing re-rolls i'm just going to subtract left to right for defense. you got one success. that was shit-tastic first roll btw. are you using brass knuckles or the equivalent?)


::Durden throws his first punch, and tony easily dodges... but it was a feint! Durdens second blow seems to crack tony pretty solidly in the jaw.

Tony flows with the hit and comes around with a lightning fast... is that a side hammer fist? What the hell? blood rushes through tony's dead veins, and you can see him flushed with excitement.::

3d10.open(10) → [4,2,1] = (7)

::Durden just manages to step aside from the blow::

(make an int+brawl at a -1 dice penalty please... and also a wits+brawl at normal pool)

(scratch that, just noticed you sent me your character. i'll send you the results of the rolls by pm... now for the fight)

::the fight moves back and forth across the sticky barroom floor, the patrons paying rapt attention to the drama, their meals mostly forgotten (though a few still suck on theirs idly like soda at a movie theater). Durden gets in another glancing blow, followed by a hard right hook that causes tony to sway on his feet before recover with an upercut to the chin which leaves a huge gash and crushes much of the bone underneath... The fight is over, as durden sways, nearly incapacitated.

Durden's crew stands, ready to defend him, angry at the intrusion, shocked at his defeat, but tony, perhaps feeling that things had gone far enough, or perhaps afraid of being outnumbered and on someone else's turf, turns to leave. one of tony's boys with towel that seemed to magically appear from thin air (or maybe it was that dirty rag tina used to clean beer off the floor), tosses it at durden. ::

"We'll talk again kiddo. I didn't enjoy... Well, yeah hell, i guess i did enjoy that. But you had it comin'. I hope we can get along a little better now that we've gotten that outa the way. And i hope ya learned somethin'. But whatever. I gots people ta do and things ta see. G'night."

**a couple nights later**

::Mr French arrives in mid evening, slides into a barstool, and flags down Tina::

"Heya hon, would you let Durden know that I'm here to see him, it's about a business arrangement. He'll know what I'm talking about."

"K. ::pop:: BOSS! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE! YOU GOT BUSINESS! ::pop:: he'll be here in a minute."

The Nick Meeting:


"Yeah Nick. I'll point ya toward some of their businesses. They run lots of small time stuff, like casinos and shit. They are working their way up. Seems they may have gotten to Tony. Asshole's been neglectin the clan and the covenant. Giovanni are callin the shots now in clan Daeva. Word on the street is he's been givin up certain prospects and locations, lettin the Giovanni waltz right in. No secret he and I don't see eye to eye on it. Ask around. I'm not lookin to lose any more.

So I hear you've been involved. Got any plans to deal with this?"

Mr French meeting:

:: Durden excuses himself from a group of rough-looking men and heads over to the bar ::

"Don't ya just love my intercom system? Come on back."

:: Durden leads French to the private room ::

"I got most of it ready. How about your end?"

"It's done. I cased this place and it turned out to be ripe, so I went in and did the job. Congradulations my friend, we just became very wealthy. There will probably be heat sooner rather than later, so it'd be wise to keep this on the DL. I've set up a meet with Tony to get the laundering taken care of, but that's just for the slightly larger half. You and I, we have some items to fence."

::Mr French produces a very large duffel bag that seems quite heavy. He unzips it to reveal a vast trove of diamond heirlooms, rolex watches, and all manner of very special valuables::

((obfuscate 1 is so cute))

"You hear about the high end bank job? Yeah, that was us. And by us I mean you and me."

Durden does things and makes things happen. I guess he continues to talk to Nick about Carthianisms and with French about robbin banks and other hood-rat things...

A 20?something? woman enters the bar with short messy hair. She sizes up the occupants, giving the place a one over while she's at it, before taking a seat at the bar. She folds her arms on the counter, ordering a glass of Jack straight, if she's asked, before sitting back to casually watch the lady work for awhile.

She runs her finger through the contents of the glass, perodically licking it off the tip in a distracted manner. Any overt come-ons from the rabble get a gruff "Not Interested," with out so much as a glance up.