Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20151212055542/@comment-26130256-20160324205320

One of the many things Trigo Cardamom disliked about the English language was the phrase "One of those days". Everyone had "those days", but nobody could ever describe what was meant by "those".

But after the morning he had, even he was willing to admit he was having "one of those days". First, after he woke up, the half-bottle of Merlot he had been planning to finish with breakfast had gone bad, tasting more like vinegar than wine. So he decided to take a jog through Vale, help himself wake up. Only to find thirty men dressed in black military fatigues who wanted to kill him. Being a high-rank in the Cardamom crime family; this sort of thing was nothing new to Trigo, but he usually kept close track of all the organizations who wanted him dead, and he had never heard of this "Hounds" group. None of them put up a meaningful fight, though the bomb-collars kept him on his toes until he remembered that Ice Dust could neutralize explosives. Definitely woke him up, though.

The enforcer was soon in a nearby bar, nursing a rum and Dr. Piper while he thought about how to explain his thirty counts of "self-defense" with twin shotguns to Vale PD. Just as he was ordering a shot of whiskey as a chaser, a woman with the same uniform as the Hounds and a rifle-halberd shot his glass out of his hand. On any other day, he would have calmly asked the woman what she needed, but that glass was full of Lighthouse Fuel Whiskey, aged twenty years. She at least lasted a few minutes before losing, but she refused to simply surrender even after several minutes without landing a hit on the drunken master, leaving Trigo no choice. Not the first one to give her life to try and kill him, and certainly not the last.

So imagine his surprise when Vale's finest arrived on the scene and not only were totally okay with his mass-murder, but they explained that these were allies of the BOB group that had attacked Flagg's holdings, and the reason Trigo was in town in the first place. They even gave him a bare-bones sitrep of the attack on the meeting, which the Cardamom had sworn was tomorrow. Hoping there was still a fight to be had, he took off in the direction of the amphitheatre.

He probably looked like a wreck when he arrived. His yellow pinstripe suit disheveled, his lanky frame out of breath, his mustache probably needed trimming, and he smelled like liquor worse than normal, thanks to that woman with the halberd. He needed a drink, more so than usual.

Fortunately, the amphitheatre and surrounding area looked about as bad as he thought he did. Exploded robots everywhere, a good number of bodies, and lots of property damage. Trigo was almost sad he had missed it. Looking around for anyone he recognized, he saw Honara fending off what looked like another half-dozen enemies. Reloading Destra and Sestra with Ice Dust, he froze four of them in seconds, and the rattlesnake easily dispatched the other two.

"Ms. Von Anhult," he asked, in his best 'Director' voice. "Would you kindly explain to me what in the hell is going on here?"