Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26104528-20150928195402/@comment-26130256-20151211074753

(How did I get to juggling three characters at once here?)

Zijin chuckled warmly at the reporter's question. "Ma'am, I'm just a lawyer, and an old one at that.  I won't say how many years I've been practicing, but I still remember when the Scroll was a new invention.  If you want information about how we will be improving our security, you're far better off asking one of our IT professionals.  If they even feel inclined to explain it, that is.  I imagine telling everyone exactly how you will be improving your security isn't very prudent, personally."

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"Great," Azulius muttered to himself, watching Gretel run out the door. He really should have followed her and tried to comfort her, but it was almost like he knew his words would have little effect on her. The Destral's body language back then was resolute, determined. She knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she uncloaked in Niccolo's office, even if she didn't like the idea. Shaking his head, he drank the first half of his shot glass, marveling at the balance of smoothness and smoky flavor. Draining the thing would have been easy, but to waste Tortuga Silver like that bordered on sacrilege. He turned to the others, keeping his voice quiet for the Directors' sake.

"Any of you gonna go after her, or should I?" he stage-whispered, trying to make up his own mind between helping the distraught girl or sitting next to Honara and telling her about this diner he had found, which apparently made chicken and waffles to die for...

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"I agree wholeheartedly, discretion will be paramount," Trigo nodded, finishing his Irish coffee. "Also, I've talked to some friends in Vacuo, and they're stepping up the security at the Manzanita factory until this begins to blow over.  Just in case Master wants to start a war on two fronts."

One of the reasons that the Cardamom family was so well-tolerated during their criminal reign was how seriously they took their protection rackets. When a family, shop, or neighborhood paid protection money, that meant they were protected, and any other gang giving them trouble was treated as an enemy of the family. The money-back guarantee didn't hurt either.

In the case of Flagg's factory, their "protection" fees came in the form of ten percent of the factory's profits and an employee's discount for the entire family. It was a princely sum, and no one wanted to have to give it back.