"That smoke cloud trails back such a distance, it must be from far away..." Chaucer noted quietly to himself as he peered out the boss' tall window of ornately carved glass and wood.
"Mm." Was the half-assed response.
"Seriously, Mr. C, I saw it the whole ride up here. I think an entire village must be on fire."
"It's not ours, is it?"
"No..."
"Then who the hell cares, Chaucer." Jack muttered under his breath. He was sitting at his long, dark wooden desk and rummaging papers around. On each one, he scribbled a large swirling C before sliding it away from him and moving onto the next. Chaucer shrugged, though still looking concerned, as he turned from the window and paced around the room. He'd just delivered a crate of Scarlet Fever and Snowkiss, two highly illegal and rare drugs. He wasn't the maker, they came from an underground workhouse a few towns over, for Jack Calico and his Grudges (Also called Grudge Devils or Calico Devils) owned a huge chain of underground stations homing the largest outsource of drugs known on this side of Lalonia.
The gang was highly respected here in the town they'd taken over many years ago, the town called Marrow (so named because of it's core placement in the circle of villages that surrounded its perimeter). They were also highly feared. The cutthroat group of devils had formed young, and slowly dominated every village they could get their hands on over the last two decades. They were hitmen, cheats, and merciless bullies, but they protected the towns that swore loyalty to them. Grudges drank free in every bar, received pleasures from any woman or man they desired, and walked like kings in the streets of Marrow. They were a family of misfits (who just happen to host demons in their bodies) and anyone who threatened their cause had a price on their heads. Needless to say, Chaucer was always nervous when he had to make a run to Jack's manor, for this always-cold Mr. C was their leader- one who collected the severed heads of his whistleblowers and had them taxidermized and mounted on a wall in his study.
No matter where one was in the manor, the moment Nate opened the front of its door, his stomp-like footsteps echoed. They resounded all the way to his boss' office, stopping short as he remembered- for once- to knock. Of course, the himbo's knocking was akin to bashing the door in, but surely the attempt of manners was appreciated. By someone.
"EYYO BOSS, I FOUND THIS THING."
Spoken at his natural tone, his voice boomed through whatever space he occupied. The albino was large in every sense of the word: towering over everyone and accompanied with a loud personality. When he burst through the door, he kept on going, slamming a hand down on the desk as he talked. Actually, it wasn't that he slammed his hand down, but he'd dropped something off at the desk. Something one could assume was a gift, wrapped up and tied with a pattern of stars. Inside was a deck of cards, each unique in design, and unique per effect, as well. There was also a set of 12 dice-- varying from a 2 sided coin-like piece up to a 20 sided unit.
"SHIT WAS JUST SITTIN' OUTSIDE YOUR PLACE... BUT YO, YOU LOOK OUT THE WINDOW? THAT FOREST FIRE IS FUCKIN' HUGE. WE COULD HAVE A WHOLE BARBEQUE FROM HERE! S'HOT. ...OH, didn't realize you were standing there, man. How's it goin', Lil' C?"
Chaucer jumped every time Nate took a step in the manor, listening with fright as the enormous man ascended the huge staircase, rounded the bends, took to the next set of stairs, and stormed his way story by story until he'd reached Jack's office. As soon as he burst in though, Chaucer relaxed. It was only Nate. Much better company than the boss, and a legend at eliminating tension.
Jack, however, had gone on without seeming to notice the man at all. When the gift was placed before him, he leaned forward and took it. Opening the small bag and pouring the dice into his hands, he stared down at them for a moment before a tiny hint of a smile curved his mouth. Silently, he placed them in a drawer of the great desk.
"Yes, there's a large fire out there, very observant Nathaniel." The man said in monotone, going back to signing his papers. "By the way, thank you for placing before me what could very well have been a bomb." As he was signing with one hand, he used the other to flip out a black cigarette from a tin in his coat. Still signing, he patted himself down for his matches which he'd misplaced. Without skipping a beat, Jack raised the end of the cigarette to his lips and breathed softly on it. The tip sizzled and set alight, and he placed the other end in his mouth and took a puff.
"I-I'm fine!' Chaucer answered Nate, smiling up at the giant. "Just, deliveries as usual."
He nodded at Chaucer, returning his full attention to the man behind the desk.
"Listen, Jackass, if it really was a bomb, I'd have already gone up with it!"
He laughed, quick to shrug off the obvious insult. He leaned back from the desk and held a hand at his hip. His free hand snapped back and forth, cracking every joint as he spoke.
"I was telling ya about the fire 'cause I'm totally in the mood for some food and no one's seen your face in a damn hot minute. Who do I gotta go fuck over so we can grab somethin'?"
Chaucer smiled at Nat before turning away and walking back over to the window to watch the smoke and the village of Marrow far below them.
Jack listened as the young man walked to the window. Silently taking his cigarette between his teeth, the man brought his free hand to his chest. In one swift motion, Jack's fingers dissolved beneath his sternum and pulled from it a black crossbow. The weapon peeled out through his armor, his jacket, it seemed as though it came from deep within his very ribs. A weapon made of his own being. Chaucer looked over his shoulder at the sound of the bow clicking back, and before he could speak, an arrow shot through his skull between his eyes. Brain matter splattered against the window behind him, and the body fell with a thud. Jack lowered the bow that he'd casually aimed without raising his eyes from the papers he was still signing.
Blood was dripping down his face and he muttered a quiet "Fuck.." as droplets fell onto the contracts.
"Why do you need me to come with you?" He asked, addressing Nate's request at last. Chaucer's body gurgled as it bled out beside him.
Without hesitation, Nathan flicked the excess blood off the back of his hand and groaned in annoyance. His reaction lasted a few seconds, and nothing more. Although he had greeted the young worker, he felt nothing after seeing his death. That was an unfortunate yet normal occurrence in Jack's territory.
"It's an invite, bro. I ain't asking you out on a date. But shit, I think this chick might be."
Recalling what he picked up along with the package was a messily folded piece of paper, most of the words either chicken scratch or *artistic* cursive.
"I think there's a name at the end, something Camel..? You finally learn a thing about how to treat a woman?"
He teased, holding out the folded paper for the man to take from him directly.
"Come with us and I won't say a word about this to nobody."
"You're going to say what's on your mind at all times, Nathaniel." Jack pointed out, reaching and taking the note. Clearing his throat, he called "DOLLIE!" and leaned back in his chair to read the letter.
A flurry of footsteps came rushing up the stairs, across the landing, and, after a brief knock, Dollie the maid stepped in. Her hair was a mess of soft brown waves, as it always was, and she had on her arms two baskets of towels and cleaning supplies.
"Oh, Jack," She exclaimed, setting her baskets down and fluttering across the office to see the corpse. Without the slightest concern for the savage murder that had just taken place, she picked up her skirts, stepped over Chaucer's body, and inspected the window. Her dainty fingers ran over the small, clean hole in the fancy glass where the arrow had shot through. "We just replaced this." Dollie scolded, giving the boss an exasperated glance before returning to her baskets.
"Just clean it up, Dollie." Jack muttered gruffly, staring down at the letter in his hand before raising his eyes and looking off into nothing.
The maid waved her hand in dismissal of his usual rudeness, and she gave Nate an affectionate pat on his abs as she passed him (in the way one might pat a friend's shoulder).
"Good to see you, Mr. Juno." She said, giving him a warm smile before opening the office door and beckoning in the footman that had come upstairs with her. Silently, the servant hurried to throw Chaucer's body over his shoulder and remove him from the room. Dollie took out her cleaning solution and towels and began vigorously dabbing the carpet and picking out pieces of brain with her nails.
Jack sighed, pinched the space between his eyes and set the note down. "Go without me, Nate. I need to do something."
The giant's chuckles faintly echoed below his boss's call for the maid. He folded his arms and stood back, making room for the girl to toddle in past his bulky build as well as the servant.
"Same to you, girlie!" He replied, briefly unfolding his arms to give a quick ruffle to her soft brown hair. He wasn't trying to flirt with the maid, but rather it was his expression of showing friendliness to her, unlike Jack's cold-shoulder treatment. Refolding his arms, he completely turned his attention right back to his boss, noticing the slight irritation in his sigh.
"What's got you so busy?"
He squinted, impatiently shifting on his feet.
"If someone's giving you trouble, you know I don't mind fucking someone over out on route. I'm starting to get bored, anyways."
Tapping a finger along his bicep, Nate attempted to peer down at the chicken scratch of a letter, yet still couldn't make anything more out.
"But I can wait. Not a problem, my guy. I'll just chill here at your place until you fit some time in your schedule or need something worth doing done, yeah? Maybe I can invite Samma to hang out, too."
Flashing his boss a snarky grin, his words promised trouble, if not at the very least chaos.
Ignoring Nate, the boss pushed his chair back and stood. He grabbed the huge stack of finished papers, tapped them against the desk to shuffle them together, and stepped over Dollie to cross the room. The maid sat up on her knees to watch him go, giving Nate a glance that said 'Just a cranky day, I guess.' Throwing the office door open, Jack headed swiftly across the landing and down the staircases. He tapped his fingers in thought as his hand slid down the winding banister.
The Calico manor was vibrant with life, for Jack had granted the Grudges all their own rooms (whether they chose to stay there or not) and complete leeway in the kitchens, the smoking quarters, the game rooms, the libraries, and everywhere else. He could hear the jubilant shouting of a few of them over a poker game in a suite nearby as he took a turn round a corner and stepped into one of the living rooms. There were fine leather couches around a dark wooden table, an island with drinks on a silver tower platter, large vases with extravagant floral displays, crystal ashtrays everywhere, and a large bookshelf in the corner. On one of the walls was a young man's taxidermized head, looking as healthy and functional as though it was still attached to a body. It was displayed on a gold mount with a little plaque that read "Teeron".
Lying on one of the couches with his feet up was a man with long dark hair, casual attire, and tattoos covering his arms. He was reading a book and taking bites out of a sandwich that he'd rested on his chest.
"Micah." Jack said loudly, to which the man jumped and looked up.
"Holy crap, Jack, ya almost made me piss my pants." Micah said, laughing and returning his gaze to his book.
"Don't you have a job to be doing?"
"Takin' a break. Eatin' a sandwich. Want a bite?" Without looking up, Micah raised his hand with the sandwich.
Walking over quickly, Jack smacked the bread out of his hand. The young man sat up and whined, "HEEeey! That was-"
"Chaucer resigned, I need him replaced ASAP." Jack started, sitting on the couch across the way and setting the large stack of papers down on the table. "I need runners that won't expire, Micah. He went soft too quickly, it's fucking ridiculous. I can't have nervous bitches working for me."
Micah pouted, reaching off the couch and picking up the remains of his lunch. "Ah gee, I thought he'd last a while longer. Sorry about that, boss. I'll get on it."
Jack leaned towards him and held out the letter he'd received. "First, I need you to take care of this. Immediately". Taking it from him, Micah read over it.
"Okey doke..." He said, squinting down the chicken scratch. "I'll go find this Camellia." With a dramatic groan, he hoisted himself to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. Yawning, he added. "You should get some fresh air, I think Nate was wanting to go get food or something." To this, Jack closed his eyes and sighed a little.
"Alright, alright. I'll take the dog for a walk." He muttered, standing as well and walking out of the room.
"NATHANIEL!" He shouted down the hall, "Let's go!'
The voice boomed, gargantuan man stomping out of his boss's office. His footsteps more than echoed-- they shook the entire manor itself. The manor had to be sturdy for a number of reasons, especially to outside forces peeking in. If it could handle the force of Nathan, it could handle anything else the rival groups could attempt at.
He was rubbing his forehead when he reached Jack, hiding the mark of slamming his head into one of the overhead doorframes. It didn't hurt, but the jackass was sure to tease him about it. And as if he needed yet another reason to do so.
"Let's get the fuck outta here."
He grumbled, half-wanting to snatch up the gang leader and toss him over his shoulder. Thankfully- but not wisely- he decided against it.
He headed for the exit, leading the way through vast hallways, as he had a tendency to. A shield for the leader; a tank who could take any first hit, or any attack. Since he rarely removed his mask, what he considered 'lethal' was ten times the amount to any normal villager.
When they reached the exit, he swung open doors and yelled without restraint.
"EYYO SAMMA, WANNA GET SOME GRUB?"
He had absolutely no idea where she was, but that didn't matter to the giant. His voice could reach the outer edges of the Marrow if he really tried.
There was a crash from somewhere upstairs like the dropping of a tea set, followed by the hurrying of footsteps.
"HELL YEEEES!" Came the loud, eager response from the stairs. "I'll be back later, bitches!" Samma called to the room she'd just left before running down to meet the boys. As they waited, Jack lit another cigarette and took a long puff. He rolled his eyes just slightly as he heard the woman come crashing around the corner behind them. Samma, dressed in her usual skimpy clothing, launched herself onto Nate. "Go go go!" She commanded, climbing effortlessly up onto his head.
Jack gave them both a flat-faced glance over his shoulder before stepping through the doorway and down the manor's steps.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Micah had left through a servant's exit (after finishing his rebuilt sandwich of course) and skipped over to a small nearby building. He left the contracts from Jack there, in the hands of the gangs' postal messengers. Afterwards, it was straight to the little village of Broder for him.
Nate braced himself, knowing Samma would be quick to climb up. He actually held his arms out and affixed her atop him, taking off in the direction for food.
"IF YOU DON'T HURRY YOUR ASS UP JACK, I'M SLINGIN' YOU ON A SHOULDER."
He teased whilst wrapping an arm up and around the woman. A hug as well as a seatbelt of sorts.
Not too deep into the little village of Broder was an open yet bustling marketplace, lively as the late afternoon hit its peak. The young baker, overwhelmed by the early morning's demand of goods, had practically exhausted her entire fresh stock. Only a few loaves of bread and muffins remained, along with three cinarros set off to the side.
With a sigh, she gazed up, past the storefronts and homes, and stared at the very distant smoke. It'd only gotten worse as the day continued, and her customers continuously gossiped, inquiring if she had any knowledge of it.
Of course she hadn't, but that didn't stop her from returning them a question: if anyone had seen the young couple from weeks prior. The young blind miss and her strange, jittery partner. There'd been no news from anyone-- not the farmers, the woodsmen, the fishers, or children.
Instead of allowing her thoughts to continue drifting as worries, she hoped for the best and continued her business.
With a merryness to his step, Micah broke into a run as the dirt path became cobbled and the marketplace grew in the distance.
"What a beaaaautiful daaaay~" He said to himself in singsong as the village gates towered over him and he jumped into the bustling crowds. After a bit of asking around, the man was pointed in the right direction and he smoothed back his hair before sliding up to Camellia's booth.
"Hiya, miss!" Micah said cheerfully, giving her a big smile. Nonchalantly, he stretched his left arm out and pulled away a bit of fabric wrapped around his wrist. Just beneath his palm was the tattoo of a smoking oni mask- the known symbol for the Grudges. "I've got a few questions for ya, if that's alright."
Camellia's bright and cheery demeaner immediately changed as her eyes gazed upon the Grudges' tattoo-- one she hadn't seen personally since she was with her father, but even then...
"Um, yes, I was just about to close up shop, anyways."
She smiled, adverting her eyes from him. The nervousness in her voice was clear as she started to cover the last of her goods. It was a simple process, one that only needed a minute's worth of time, but even then-- if she displeased someone from the Grudges, more than just her own life was at stake. Some of the men were known to be ruthless, but his face wasn't too often seen in her area, so she hadn't recognized him. Not that the man naturally stood out from the crowd.
Stepping out and away from her pop-up shop, she slid her apron off and held it in her arms. Clearing her throat, she met his eyes, although found it difficult to hold a stare.
"Sorry about that. What can I answer for you, sir?"
