Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26130256-20150806184438/@comment-26130256-20150913060613

"I coulda lost more than my job," Uriel grumbled, walking with the phantom to their prepared room. "You know what usually happens in the Blackbriars with people who screw up to the tune of millions?  They get a new pair of shoes made of concrete, and they go swimming in Atlas's harbor.  The only reason I'm here and not there is that the underboss who first hired me said it was a waste of talent, and he figured I could get enough info on what they stole from us to try getting it back.  And dear Azzie is going to sing like Blank Sinatra once he gets here."

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Azulius reached for his knuckledusters, but he realized a second too late that the shadows were just some mannequins. Not a bad touch, though, Jack-o-Lantern had a future in the haunted house biz. The words, though, were in poor taste.

''I didn't cause jack. I left the business behind me, found a new purpose, a new life. I was quite willing to let the past stay in the past, until Espinas had to come and dig it up again.  I'll make sure I bury it properly this time.''

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Brick forlornly watched Azulius enter the building through his scope. He was not kidding when he said how he felt about this plan. Going unarmed into the lion's den and hoping the rocket locker made it in time seemed like foolish optimism at its finest. As if from nowhere, he heard a break action shotgun being reloaded.

"Mr. Brick?" a thin man with a yellow suit asked, his tone showing serious displeasure. "Please tell me that you didn't just allow my nephew to sashay into a Blackbriar-occupied building unarmed."

"Okay, Boss Trigo, I won't tell ya," the sniper shivered in worry. "Azzie said he knew what he was doing, and that he was stalling until you arrived."

"Well, here I am," Trigo sat cross-legged on the roof, taking a deep draw from his ever-present flask. "And the moment I am needed, I will remind these Blackbriars just who they are trifling with."