Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26130256-20150806184438/@comment-26130256-20150914222057

"Let me finish," Azulius begged, just as Uriel slapped him across the face with a thorn-covered hand, knocking him to the ground again. The magician struggled to his knees again.

"Brine never told us who hired us for the job because he couldn't figure out who it was." His eyes widening slightly, Uriel signalled the phantom to stop the countdown for a sec.

"Fine, you have my attention.  Continue," Uriel droned, still sounding fairly bored with the procedings.

"Let that sink in.  You know better than I do about the underworld in Atlas.  What kind of big-elder-deep-fish-god-one-thing do you have to be so that freaking Brine can't find out who you are?  All we ever heard was a super-corrupted voice file calling itself 'The Forest' that wanted that box, and gave us the blueprints and everything we needed to pull off the job." Uriel grudgingly nodded. The secretive handler of the Harlequins was considered to be the last word in information brokering in Atlas. If he couldn't dig up dirt about it, there was no dirt to be found.

"Okay, so you're telling me that after all this work, you have no clue who has that box, and that even Brine has no idea.  This means you are now officially useless to me." With a smirk, he aimed Lupara squarely at Azzie's head. "A pity you couldn't see 'The Forest' for its trees."

Hold on a sec, Azulius thought, the gears in his head spinning at double speed. ''The trees... Why does that sound familiar?''  Staring more closely, his eyes took special notice of the tatoos around Uriel's biceps, with the leaves and thorns alternating. If the thorns were a symbol for the Blackbriar gang, what did the leaves mean. Unless...

"Rowan Street..." Azulius muttered, amazed at the memory from his youth that had just been unearthed. Surprised at hearing the name from his past, Uriel pulled the trigger, only for Azzie to barely get out of the way, except for the pellet that grazed his ear, which began to bleed.

"You were with the Rowan Street Gang!" The magician burst out laughing, a sort of deranged laugh more suited to the man about to be hung than one who had just made a discovery. "Now everything makes sense!  No wonder you're so pissed off!  Wow, the memories." Uriel fired again, missing his nemesis by at least a foot. Still cackling like some kind of demented hyena, Azulius gestured towards the phantom.

"You've been playing him like a damn fiddle!  I am impressed.  Hahaha!"

"You just shut up," Uriel warned, scrambling to reload as fast as he could. This was a story from his past he could not afford to be told right now. Better off to silence the blue mobster now before anyone could ask questions.