The Bar With No Name (CVnU – Gothic Sub-Locale)

No one knows for certain when or how it sprung up, just that it did. An unassuming hole in the wall, it is known by no official title. Only an epithet as cryptic as it is distinct. There is no listed address on any record and no sign of any kind brandishing a name, making the bar a unique establishment even within the "lawless" Gothic City. Most assume the information existed but was lost sometime after President Stark declared Gothic a no man's land and before the city was readmitted into the union. A period during which the space was acquired by a "Mr. Johnson" and converted into a bar at the edge of an alley.

Tight lips, an unclear name and an obscure location make the bar difficult to find for first-timers and even some repeat customers so it's usually recommended for newcomers to draw a map using any of the (entirely unhelpful) landmarks in the area. Or just follow someone who knows where they're going and remember which way you came.

The Bar With No Name is not a strictly legal business. That there is no address makes this impossible. Aid of any kind, legal financial transaction including deliveries, etc. are all virtually impossible. If you need an ambulance or the police, where would you send them?

This is just as well; for the Bar With No Name also plays host to a number of unscrupulous characters who would rather see their own rule of "law" carried out than avail themselves of the city's aid. (And its technical non-existence keeps the owner from having to pay taxes.) Known for its shady clientele, many characters of ill-repute--including supervillains, known and "alleged" criminals--go to be seen, to drink, to enjoy their glowering solitude, or even to talk. It opens and closes entirely at Johnson's whim, having no set hours but is almost always staffed.

"Just follow the smell of kerosene and wet dog" – Inside

A seedy, two-story affair with dim lighting and absolutely no first-floor windows, the ground level hosts myriad entertainment, including a fully stocked speakeasy-style bar and grill, jukebox, two pool tables, several dartboards (with real darts—watch the tip) and a 32-inch HDTV. Paintings from classy to crude are featured on the walls, and if you ask nicely, Nora, the barmaid, might just let you take out a commission. For a fee, this level may be rented out privately for a set time so that individuals with the desire and funds may conduct private business in peace. It isn't cheap.

"Security" is fairly lax, informal norms and social mores dictating behaviour apart from terms set by the fickle owner on any given night. The understanding is that most clients approach the bar for a quiet place to trade information, stories of triumphs and tough times, talk shit, and most of all relax among [somewhat] like-minded individuals, away from the presence of heroes and the law—and that many clients are superpowered villains who don't take kindly to disturbances during their off-time. One-on-one conflicts may play out to a reasonable conclusion (so long as disturbance of the other patrons is minimized) but when it's over, it's over. Persistent nuisance is rarely tolerated, and to outsiders (i.e. "blues" and unknowns), they protect their own.

Up a narrow flight of steps, the second story hosts the "VIP area." Almost nothing inherently special about it, save that it has been configured with a Faraday shield, it is simply off-limits, exceptions by invitation-only. Here the most private business is conducted, most often between the owner and others of his ilk, and therein lies one of the bar's best-kept secrets.

That is, The Bar With No Name is a clandestine effort by Walter Hughes to extend the reach of his budding empire of legal-adjacent activities into Gothic City. "Mr. Johnson's" true identity is in fact the alter ego of Arthur Grimsrud himself, Ragnarok. As such the bar also serves as an informal base of operations for the Sons of Ragnarok within the city. The bar allows the Sons to obtain information from various circles all over the city and beyond. Rumors and urban myths; new developments with the the law, vigilantes and other criminals; information regarding various aspects of the criminal underworld, and virtually any other talk can be heard here, and in opening the establishment Grimsrud has ensured a finger on any number of pulses at all times. As well as allowing him to spread all manner of information and misinformation through various agents, efforts which allow him to take part in shaping the fate of the local, national, and even global criminal element himself.

Yes!

I’ll be visiting.

@_dirge_: Somehow, I thought you'd like that.

@catalina_liafador: Love to have ya.

@grimsrud: You know me to well lol

I dig it

@yazhun_sanvun:

Despite having visited Gothic City on numerous occasions the Marijuana Mistress had never been to this particular bar. One of the men she currently enthralled invited her here for drinks; she fully planned on killing him, but tonight he proved his worth--and thus she decided to allow him to keep his life.

Just a few moments in the bar told her everything she needed to know, it was obviously a place for the low-life; a tight lip community composed of Gothic's bad or morally ambiguous. It was by design that she arrived her in Gothic, after the Grimm City ordeal; she'd developed a sort of vendetta against the Gothic City Crusader.

Normally a pretty "low-impact" villain in comparison to her super-powered counter-parts Aspen's mind began to hatch plans for an event that'd rattle Gothic City to the core.

"I'll take a sex on the beach" She asked of the barkeep. "He's paying" she said nodding to the man she accompanied a man who was clearly under her own spell.

As her eyes scanned the room, she needed a variation of skills...skills that'd help this plan come together.

@grimsrud: pretty badass

"You go up in there witchyo chest all out actin like...like you, you aint comin out in one piece n!gg@." A large pull of smoke rolled off the cautionary lips of Benny Sails as he drew his Konite stick back away from his mouth. Low rent hood, part time mechanic - part time 'friend' - the whites of his eyes and dilated pupils added an extra layer of creep factor to his ominous warning. Never the less, Benny wasnt wrong.

"Place is a criminal paradox dude. You might run into some heavy...heaaaavy hittahs up in there. Or you might luck out and catch an off night. You really wanna f'round in Gothic though? Shiiiiit erbody dangerous in dis city. And you aint even got your gear no more from what I hear." Noah did little, outside of grumble and shake his head with slow but begrudging acceptance. "Why you going through all this anyway?" slinging a lose arm around the now retired criminal's shoulders. "I mean, you got me what you wanna go an find that other n!gg@ for?"

"He's my friend."

Inside the BNN

Neither had any issue bleeding into the scene. Bruises, scrapes, and scars seemed to be the natural facial decoration of the former Shockwave of Gothic. Even after his criminal career had been literally crippled by the Secret Strigidae, trouble seemed to follow the ball cap wearing scrapper throughout his various ventures. His latest had been no exception. But if he was ever going to track down the missing Phantomshell, throwin them hands was going to have to be the norm. From beneath the shaded undercover of his bill, Noah looked around. In truth, he had hoped to catch a glimpse of another missing associate. It would have been easy to lie to himself. Saying it was purely for her resources and insight, but that would have been a lie. So he quietly sat posted up at the bar drinking whatever bottom shelve whiskey the change in his pocket had afforded. He sat and drank. He sat and watched...

It was a risky bet, showing his face at No Name. Arthur chuckled at the irony. Risky, showing my face at my own bar. But he understood it well. No one knew he ran the joint and if something were to jump off (or simply the wrong person saw him heading in or out), wham. GRIMSEC CEO's right in the middle of it. Not that he couldn't handle himself in a tussle, but suspicion was a different game. Best to avoid the raised eyebrows.

But this was a golden opportunity. And an even bigger risk, if intel was to be believed. Not one, but two persons of interest reported in the bar at the same time. According to informants, word on the street was that she (@xxbelladonnaxx) "almost single-handedly brought down a skyscraper in the Grimm-Valor...whatever, attack," and for some reason roused the interest of a certain operative of his; and he (@noah_noble)...well he'd been known to collaborate with Rosso the Crimson, who seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth.

"Careful, boss. Don' know much 'cept what I heard about the riot—"

"—And that bank she knocked over in Expendaville, and if she can tear down a skyscraper just imagine what she could do to a bar. Anything else?"

No response.

"Good. I mean, really? 'Be careful?' No, Glenn, I figured I'd handle things as recklessly as I possibly could."He gave a "what are you kidding me?" shrug. "Feck outta here."

He made a well-trained inconspicuous entry, complete with a "standard" survey of the landscape, like any patron would've done. Though in reality making himself aware of the POI's en route to the bar. He set his eyes on the spellbinding belle and smiled. He could be forgiven for staring a bit longer than intended. Several bar-goers did, but thus far none had the pluck to even try and penetrate the petrifying aura of elegant supremacy that simply came with being a beautiful woman. But Arthur recognised that expression. She was looking for someone herself and the man on her arm was merely an accessory. Good.Might make this easy for me. The general approach, he thought, should suffice.

The former Shockwave, Arthur assumed, would take more delicate handling. Red mentioned he was a major loose cannon, was entirely self-aware on that count, and gave zero fecks. When backed into a corner he was less likely to compromise, more likely to go for the jugular. He was also less essential so they could afford a little screw-up there, but that kind of dogged determination had all kinds of utility, and beyond that Noble was pretty well-connected in the city which would help with the Gothic expansion. Come to think of it, maybe he's the long game here. He'd fit several places in several plans if it all came together. To secure his allegiance the Neo-Juggernaut hedged his bet on gratitude and the code of honor among criminal associates.

One at a time, rein 'em in, then bring 'em together. Glancing over his shoulder, Arthur flipped a coin, caught it midair and slapped it on his wrist.

Heads. If Luck be a lady...

The game was simple in theory. Attack the vulnerability. He downed his Crown and Coke and strode to within a few feet of the pair, recognition in his eyes as he addressed the man. "Cole? Well I'll be damned! Didn't Nora say you're cut off til you can afford to settle that running tab? Didn't you say that Nora?" The bartender looked to still be processing his intrusion but he didn't wait for an answer. "And here you go with another one." Now he set his eyes on Aspen. "It's alright though. Name's Arthur. I'd be happy to take care of you tonight, if it's all the same to you. And I do mean drinks"–he leaned in and dropped his voice–"and whatever else you're after tonight."

@grimsrud:

The Crimson-Haired vixen ignored Arthur initially her verdant gaze rest solely on Cole as she pumped natural chemicals into his body through touch to force him to sleep. "You've been such a good escort. You deserve to sleep." She said watching his head plop down on the bar hard.

Her natural skin begin to show the longer she stayed out of the sunlight, causing her lower half to appear green while her upper half remained more human in hue.

"Well, I already have a drink. Mr. Arthur, but I could use some information; and given the setting. I think you can help me get what I'm looking for...can't you Arthur"

She teased moving in his personal space careful enough not to seem threatening. The minimal amount of security nearly jumped into action for what she did to Cole; until they realized she simply put him to sleep, she needn't poke the bear too much.

"The names' Aspen, I'll admit this is my first time in Gothic City; and I'm curious to know just how many prisons are there?"

@xxbelladonnaxx:

The Neo-Juggernaut conceded no ground as she pressed into his personal space and he refused to acknowledge the Sons who sought to intervene. For their part, concern for him was minimal. Grimsrud's connection to Ragnarok was strictly need-to-know; the ground-level operatives serving the bar had no idea that they were in the presence of their leader. He was a nobody.

Yet all the same he wore the confidence of a high-roller in the Hellfire Club. Whatever she did to Cole down there was more beguiling than threatening. If needed Arthur would pit his ability against hers, but so far that seemed unlikely.

"First time, eh? Well then lady, I'm your guy. Hmm...Not includin' the looney bins? One. Huge complex in the south. Old as shit." A hint of a smirk curled at the edge of his mouth. "But c'mon, anybody with a cell phone and Google could've helped you with that one. I'm sensing something a little more here, yeah?"

@grimsrud:

Aspen chuckled, a city like this only had one prison? Interesting, this would be a lot easier than she thought. "Do, I really look like the type of woman who wastes her time googling?" She asked turning in her stool toward the other patrons in the bar.

"But, you're right. There's a certain someone that protects this city that needs to pay for how he treated me in the destruction of Grimm City. I just needed to know if there's a prison in this city...and some willing...or unwilling...participants to keep him there. He and I have unfinished business" Aspen took her drink to the head, despite Arthur being a complete stranger she still exude strong confidence in her ability to see this plan come to fruition.

"I don't need google to know there's no botanical garden...at least not yet"

@xxbelladonnaxx:Arthur's smile faded, then returned with a hint of incredulity. "Lemme get this straight. You got a vendetta against...well you said protects the city so he damn sure ain't a cop." He chuckled to himself. "I'm thinkin' one o' the glorified gimps. Why d'you need a supermax prison to hold him in? Why can'tcha just do him like you did Cole down there"–glancing at the poor fellow—and silently noting the abnormal hue of her legs–"and hole him up somewhere private, do whatever you want with him?" Ideas cycled in his mind; he had several already, but this was important. This was canvassing for information just as much as potential recruitment.

@grimsrud: In the same moment her eyes tilt down to Cole, there was something beautiful in his sleep he seemed to enjoy it. Aspen's sleep fragrance was one of her many natural products, unlike the contaminated products at most major drug stores; she was confident he'd wake up feeling better than ever.

"Because he has propped himself up in this city acting as if he's the Apex Predator, but he has never spent a night in the real jungle" the Super Max was bound to have hundreds of Gothic City's worst criminals; more than enough to keep him busy. "I want in on this city, but I cant do that with him watching every move."

@xxbelladonnaxx:

Arthur shot her a curious look. Two distinct – and conflicting – possibilities flashed. As of late there were several individuals making waves in the city, but only one who might lay claim to the title, "apex predator." And he had, as far as the GRIMSEC CEO been aware, not had any involvement in Grimm...Valor...Whatever.

But he was aware of the other, prominently named in conjunction with the attack and widely praised as the man with the greatest hand in saving Valor. He thought back to Rosso's account of the attack and smiled, throwing a casual glance over to the other hopeful recruit. This could be perfect.

"Okay," he said, flagging down the bartender for more drinks. "Might know somebody who knows somebody. But before I can help you, I've gotta know two things. Who's the guy you're after, and can you play well with others when it counts?"

@grimsrud: @grimsrud:

"Oh? certainly you know I mean Hawk shade. That putrid soul injured my babies in that Valor scuffle." It was a pride thing, mostly because Aspen spent the majority of that conflict controlled by someone else.

There were actually two fish to fry, the first was Hawk shade he would pose as the easiest of the two to find. The second was Laughlyn the annoying clown that landed her in Grimm City in the first place.

"Come'on now Arthur don't I look like a woman that plays well...with others." She teased turning her head to sip the rest of her drink. "Now, why the interest?"

@xxbelladonnaxx: "Hawkshade." The name might well have been music to his ears. Between her vendetta and the scorn he assumed @noah_noble harboured for the vigilante, it sounded like this would all tie into a neat little bow after all. B–Wait, what? "Babies?" Initially confused, Arthur gave her another head-to-toe scan, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he figured it out. She ain't talkin' about no baby-babies.

"Because," he said, then let it hang in the air as he pounded his drink, same as the first. "'s my first time too, and I'm lookin' to do a bit of expansion into Gothic. As an entrepreneur. One of my associates is interested in your talents and I'd like to put you in touch."Once we find her, he added only in his mind.

@grimsrud: @xxbelladonnaxx:

Noah tilted his head with slow and subtle reactionary theater as he inadvertently listened. Idiosyncratic compulsions raising a curious brow, or forming a withdrawn smirk. Partially obscured these actions were shielded by the shallow shadows beneath the brim of his ball cap.

Even though the recognizable name drop of Gothic's most prolific crime fighter sliced a revenge fueled sneer across the roughness of his lips, the unsettled criminal simply remained with his eyes focused on the bottom of his cup in-between long drawn out drinks.

Suddenly, and still devoid of eye-contact with either the JASOC Juggernaut or the Queen of the Deathclove Cocktail, Noah began to chuckle with sarcastic style. Over the city's embattled history it had been home to a dozen or more - now notorious - asylums and penitentiaries. Yet it had never occurred to him that the missing Phantomshell had been secretly stashed in one. Whatever mad mission the cardinal haired cactus of chaos was about sounded like the perfect opportunity for a possible tactical extraction. A motive within a motive. A mission within a mission. But the prickly agitator in him wanted to stir the pot a bit. Unlike most normal people Noah enjoyed the entertainment value of an awkward social obstruction.

"Lot'ah innocent people gonna get hurt you start free'n some of them folks. Might as well paint a target on our backs cause that Hawkshade aint never gonna let some-shit like that slide." chuckling again before finish off his drink. His finger shooting up to instantly order another. "We'll all be f---'in famous" begrudgingly rubbing his unshaven jaw. Testing boundaries and passive-aggressively posturing.

@xxbelladonnaxx: @noah_noble:

If luck be a lady, she was winking at Arthur Grimsrud that night. He couldn't have planned this out if he tried. No attempt to hide his widening grin, he glanced sideways at the intrusion, looked him up and down and swivelled 'round to face him.

"We?" He shook his head. "Well I don' know about you, but I got no intention of doin' anything to get in trouble. I'm just talkin' to a lady in a bar...Or am I? Maybe this conversation never happened. Who's to say?" There was a bit of accusation in his voice. "You a snitch?" it antagonistically suggested. Picking up on this, several curious heads turned to see the possible confrontation but went unacknowledged by the mutagenic super soldier.

Then, casual yet grim, he prodded. "Besides I ain't afraid o' no damn bird man. Though I can understand how your mileage might vary, aye Grimm City?" And all the humor left him. He watched the former Shockwave for a reaction. For realization. The only other being, still living, who knew about Noble's unfortunate confrontation with the vigilante was his partner at the time. But even that, he understood, was no guarantee of cooperation or even amicability.

Posting today

In the shadows of the alley across the street the bar, a manhole cover quietly rose up several inches and slid to the side, making only the slightest of scraping sounds. After several moments passed and no one had seemingly been alerted, a pair of slender, strong hands, covered in thick fur and ending in sharp claws, emerged from the darkness of the manhole and gripped the edge, followed shortly by a feral face. Eyes gleamed in the faint streetlights, and a canine nose twitched as it cautiously sampled the scents of the surface world.

Satisfied that no immediate threats were near, Aibreann deftly lifted the rest of her body from the darkness and swiftly slid behind a long-abandoned grease dumpster, crouching down out of sight. She was in the more humanoid of her hybrid forms, the one that gave her the greatest speed and agility, and the cool breeze that blew through Gothic City's streets in the early autumn weather felt good on her fur, especially after the fetid stuffiness of the sewers. She did not approach the bar, but merely watched its doors closely, from a safe distance, all of her enhanced senses on full alert.

Sooner or later, a likely mark would present itself, ideally a lone reveler who'd imbibed too much and wouldn't be able to effectively react to the sudden impact of a lycanthropic body. If all went according to plan, she'd be vanishing back into the darkness before the target realized that their wallet, purse, or whatever valuable she manged to snatch was gone.

Briggs gulped down some more dirty tap water while chomping on a cigar, wiping off the bit that leaked through his scar. He sat in a shady corner by his lonesome, boots up on the table, his pale eye gazing out at the locals.

Bounty hunting brought him to places like this more time than he could count, just part of the job. If Briggs was being honest, a place like the Bar With No Name felt more like home than anywhere else. Just the thought of sudden violence and gun shots almost put a smile on his rugged mug.

So he continued puffing away, waiting to see if anyone would be throwing any contracts around.

@grimsrud: @noah_noble:

"It's a simple war of attrition really" replied to Noah almost immediately following his ingress. Sensuously downing the rest of her drink, her eyes scanned over the newcomer with interest, but only for a moment.

"Just because the War starts in the Prison doesn't mean it ends there. After I'm finished with Hawkshade, we'll have already carved this city up."

Aspen ventured into Gothic prior to arriving here, but her tourist trip had a specific intent. Inspired by Dhalia's conquest of Grimm City, she'd developed her own way to deal with Hawkshade; something she'd play close to heart until now.

@Noah_Noble, "I dont supposed you have a better idea"

@grimsrud: @xxbelladonnaxx:

Noah instantly squared up as the verbal provocation of Grimsrud had caught the attention of nearby patrons - criminals, thugs. Smoothly pulling a M&P®9 M2.0™ from his waist band and setting it on the table on front of him. "You wanna ask me that again?" Theatrically titling his head towards the Neo-Juggernaut while pantomiming his finger back and forth away from his ear. " No really, I didnt quite catch it. Go ahead slick. Ask me again I f&*%ing dare ya."

For an uncomfortable and intense confrontational moment Noah refused to suppress the visual implications of his act, before almost growling as he nonchalantly retreated the pistol back off the table and out of sight. Looking towards the would be Goddess of Gothic Gardens "Last time I had an idea" pausing to glance back towards Grimsurd while rubbing his forearms quietly recalling - "I got rekt. I stay in my lane lady. If you say you got the Hawk angle handed...cool." Swiping the closest drink on the bar regardless of ownership and firing it down the hatch. "Color me interested in...whatever this is..."

@grimsrud: @noah_noble: @xxbelladonnaxx:

Briggs' eye shifted towards the trio across the bar after the loud one's little outburst. His deathly gaze sized each of them up. It was a trio the drifter had seen hundreds of times back in the West, some things never changed. A professional, a loose cannon and a woman with a scheme to tie it all together.

He lit up another cigar, taking a long drag while still watching the three.

Oooh, I'm torn.

@xxbelladonnaxx: @noah_noble: Shut the hell up, dumbass, he shouted in his head, noting the increased attention on he trio, but honestly he couldn't blame guy, not entirely. He did what he'd set out to do - aggravate Noah's volatile mood - and the felon/"father-of-the-year" reacted as expected. Arthur popped his own neck and breathed a throaty sigh, visibly restraining himself. Self-aware but almost pained to resist the urge for a testosterone-fuelled retaliation, verbal or otherwise.

"I got rekt. I stay in my lane lady."

That...made it easier, he acknowledged, deriving no small amount of satisfaction from the self-humbling admission. As well, raise too much of a fuss and he risked losing both the golden geese lucky enough to land on his doorstep. "'Whatever this is' ain't a damn thing yet. But if I'm honest I'd like it to be. 'Cause I got business with the both of ya individually, and a little bit of kumbaya does us all some good. I've got an idea if you two've got the patience. But I can't stick my neck out for short-sighted types so I need to know you're in because you really mean it. Trust me, you wanna hear what I've got to say."

@grimsrud:

Noah's subdued demeanor also kept his physical mannerisms in motion. A shoulder arch here, a chin tilt there, he wore his inability to remain motionless like a true rough rider. A rattlesnake ready to strike, or a friend ready to crack a smile. No one ever really knew for sure.

"But I can't stick my neck out for short-sighted types so I need to know you're in because you really mean it. Trust me, you wanna hear what I've got to say."

His hand instantly went up as he sarcastically smiled and looked away, with a 'this f'n guy' type theatrical move. "You need a hand written note or some'n? I'm in. Aint about to say it again chief." glancing down towards the poor bastard blessed with the deadly dandelion's kiss. Rethinking his abrasive temperament if only for a moment. It was obvious he was in the presence of experienced death dealers. One, who didnt mind the attention. The other, a tactician. Possibly ex-military. A merc most likely. Taking another drink he mumbled loudly, "Well aint we the goddamn Brady Bunch."

@xxbelladonnaxx: @noah_noble:

"Well, shit! Alright Jan, calm down," Arthur said with a wry grin, waving a hand in his direction. Stylistically dismissive, yet there was a notable uptick in both volume and cadence, as well as these newly excited motions themselves. Now they were cooking. But where to begin...

He regarded Aspen with a curious gaze. Hard to know exactly how to plan if she wasn't saying what she had planned. Maybe it was just a lifetime of paranoia ingrained too deeply to be purged, or the jading effect of legitimate experience, but Arthur found difficulty trusting any plans save for his and Walter's as "good enough." He'd have to get closer, gain her trust if possible. But later. For now, one less moving part for me.

"First things first, whatever she has to deal with Birdman," he said, a sweeping look between the two, "there's worse things in this city." He jabbed a finger in Noah's direction. "You might be familiar. Red devil man, put a hit on himself, sprung a trap for a mutual acquaintance of ours, landed her in a certain underground med facility run by his very own girlfriend.

"Plenty o' reasons to want him outta the picture. Darling he'd pick your pretty face off the bone without a second thought, hates your kind that much." And returning his attention to the Gamebred Gunner, "He's been interfering with one of my assets for a long time - that's the same mutual acquaintance - and it's possible he might be behind her disappearance. Been stalkin' 'er for months. Now I wanna hit him where it hurts. And I want his life. You follow?" Leaning back, Arthur took a shot of the drink placed next to him. "Agree to that and we can talk next steps."

Promise I’m posting today lol

@noah_noble: @grimsrud:

Throughout the entire ordeal Aspen continued to sip her drink, even signaling for another. She wasn't for the rising testosterone levels suffocating their conversation, for a moment she questioned releasing her own perfume to lighten the mood, but of course a fight between the hulking Arthur and seemingly explosive Noah seemed sooooo exciting--far more exciting then her time with Cole. Though she stayed silent the idea of another player, a "Red Devil" silently turned her own. Each of them had there own play in it, but they all wanted the same thing--a dead Hawkshade.

"swooooo..." she swooned before her vines crawl down her back lifting her into the air between them. "Sounds like a foursome. Someone to test him...physically." She said before her head sway back and forth between Arthur and Noah direction. "Mentally..." Her hands traced her own curves from the waist up. "And Emotionally..." That's where the "Red Devil man seemed to come in. She didn't understand the exact details, but she understood there was some deep rooted history there.

"Of course, I'm game for anything we come up with. But I personally believe it needs to be a Gauntlet...we break his resolve one by one until his body begs for death..."

@xxbelladonnaxx: @grimsrud:

Schemes, plots and calculated creations of situational entanglements had always been intriguing, but the former Shockwave had come to understand and respect his limitations in the leadership area. He could run & gun with the best of em and when pushed beyond the normal human boundaries of stamina, he not only endured, he somehow elevated to another level of animalistic durability. Not a super-power or ability, just through the sheer determination and the inherent will of one stubborn son of a bitch.

Still, with that in mind, Noah expressed a visual sense of reluctant contemplation. "We need intel. The type that nobody else has. The impossible type. The type that would reveal the Hawkshade's 'true' identity. The man in the mask is unbreakable. A symbol. Insulated and guarded. We go gunnin for that dude, and we're playing into his hand. But the man behind the mask...well, he has soft spots. Loved ones. Family, income, a home. Obligations and a public persona. I'm willing to bet on it. We find out who Hawkshade is, who he really is...we can get to him without having to face off with him. Initially at least."

Though confident in most areas, Noah's sub-conscious doubt in his ability to formulate winning strategies was evident through his sagging posture. Never the less he mildly believed in his verbal contribution. If they could figure out the vigilantes identity, they could go after the things, the people, he cared most about. Use his attachments as proxy's in their secret war against the secret son of Ivana Strigadae.

@noah_noble: Aww. I almost feel bad for him.

@rosso:

@noah_noble: You almost can't help it! It's like Chris Rock said. There's nothing more depressing than a sad thug.

.

@hawkshade: Doesnt matter

@noah_noble:

@hawkshade:

@xxbelladonnaxx: @noah_noble:

"What, suit and insignia give him super powers or some'n?"

Unbreakable.

Arthur scoffed at the idea. No man was unbreakable. He didn't care who was under the mask. In it or not, he was the same guy. And yet, while not fully following the logic he still had to respect the experience Noble had with the vigilante. So he was tough.

But a man didn't need to be broken to die. And there might've been something to say for attachments the man behind the mask might have. Strategic influences and such. He couldn't help smirking at Noah Noble of all people setting his sights on loved ones. Ironic—the exact same card Grimsrud sought to play if Noble refused to play ball. Better this way. A willing alliance is better - at least gettin' the foot in the door - than coercion.

"I might know a guy, or several. I'll put out some feelers, see what intel there is to be had. An' if nothing presents itself that way...well, got a plan for that too. Gauntlets...not really my thing. We gotta be a cohesive unit. Hit him one by one gives him a static puzzle to work out. I say we build bottom-up. Start small, then stack. Don't let him work through that first puzzle before you heap the second one on him. Then the next, and the next, and so on and so forth."

He pounded his drink and tossed a glance over each shoulder. "But uhhh...I'm not down to talk fine details out here in the open. Nora!" Standing, he tossed a wad of cash over the counter. Glaring, the barmaid picked it up and began fingering through the bills. "VIP's ours for the night, yeah? Soooo, if you two wanna head upstairs...?"

@grimsrud:@noah_noble

Aspen scoffed a bit, was that a hint of fear she smelled in their cells? Impulse to her to leave right now an enact her plan on her own, but intuition told her Arthur and Noah were right. They needed Intel, they had to build the perfect case around the man Hawk shade hid, in order to take down the Icon.

They also needed to be a cohesive unit as Arthur pointed out, but given the already tense atmosphere between the two alpha males, this plan they developed would have to be full-proof and not prone to a single point of failure--if one of them 'Went Down' someone else needed to be able to continue the plan as needed.

The conversation was getting thick, Arthur must've read her mind; taking down The Icon wasn't a conversation that idle ears should stumble upon. "The last time a man asked me to go upstairs, he ended up like that" She said nodding to her incapacitated host for the evening. As she ascend the stairs her natural look begin to fade revealing the somewhat humanoid form she detest so much.

"First we'll need some sort of surveillance, something that will allow us to watch his movements. It'd be nothing for me to whip up some sort of pheromone, but we'd then have to get it on him. It'd allow me to track his movements through Gothic with my plants. Just a thought, it sounds like I'll have to be patient as a daisy"

The Sapphic Sage smoothed out the back of her dress before taking a seat on the couch fixed in the VIP area. "Then comes the recon" She continued nodding toward the sole waiter for another drink.

"We use a combination of stakeout techniques with the surveillance we build to gain the most intimate locals...and we strike when we deem necessary. It is my personal opinion that if we use the stakeout options we use personnel affiliated from different banners...a simple blow job should make them comply." She paused before giving an erotic raise of the eyebrow before she sent the smell of lily flowers tumbling through the air via her mouth.

@xxbelladonnaxx: @grimsrud:

"The last time a man asked me to go upstairs, he ended up like that"

Noah heard something, but was too busy un-apologetically staring at the Sapphic Sage's ass as they made their way upstairs to consciously register the exact words. And then all but flopping onto the comfortable maroon colored sectional widely stretched along the private lounge. Jacket open, arms casually spanned across the back. Muted lighting and the bill of his hat helped obscure his face from the bridge of his nose on up, stylishly casting him in the shadiest of dispositions. Both literal and figuratively.

Though down for the cause, all the talk of stakeouts and units, plots and schemes was mentally exhausting.

More blunt instrument then surgical blade, Noah had neither the patience or true discipline to sit and really hear what the tentative squad had to say.

Having already contributed about as much as he was willing to throwdown, he unexpectedly shot up from his seat too impatient to wait for a drink to be delivered. Helping himself to a bottle from behind the VIP mini-studio bar - top shelve of course, he arrogantly smirked before returning to the couch. Taking a massive and somewhat sloppy drink before offering it to the others.

"Drinking out of glasses in this shithole...you might as well get a penicillin chaser and save yourself the trouble." gently shaking the bottle and whipping the access from his lips with his coat sleeve. "Whatever script you all ink out I'm down. But my gear is gone. All I got is this" crudely adjusting his crotch "and my gun. Something tells me though that you got a line on all sorts of deadly goodies." Arching an abrasive brow towards the Neo-Juggernaut before unexpectedly crinkling his nose at the sudden invasion of flowery scents in the air.

@xxbelladonnaxx: @noah_noble:

Arthur could hardly contain his own excitement. Noah's impatience and Aspen's lingering doubt notwithstanding, it all seemed to be coming together. At least they both seemed keen to set aside reservations and contribute what they could to the cause.

He calmed himself. Reminding himself that they had as much reason to want this as he had, maybe even more.

Dim lighting greeted them, along with the vague leftover scent of alcohol and marijuana and tobacco, and music - the simmering downtempo of a muffled drum machine pitter blended with nocturnal synth beats wafting through a number of speakers like the Urban Nymph's pheromones cultivating a steady, tranquil yet productive ambience set off from the rest of the establishment. Once the door shut, the trio and singular member of the upstairs waitstaff were completely shut off from both downstairs and the outside, thanks to tinted and barred windows.

The self-appointed leader in his own mind, Arthur listened to the others, noted their mannerisms, and considered how best to accommodate all parties' dispositions and ideas. At least he's making it easy, he thought, amused smirk in Noah's direction. The less opinionated he was, the fewer ideas the others had to contend with.

"Something tells me though that you got a line on all sorts of deadly goodies. "

"Damn right," he said, grabbing a miniature cannonball of rum from the shelf and plopping himself down on a nearby sofa. "I'll show ya when we're done here."

Catching the scent Aspen spread through the air, Arthur took a deep inhale. Whatever chemical she was pushing, it had to be strong to punch through the other smells left over in the lounge; but even more than that, he had to know if she was trying to poison them, change them in any way. Certain his body's natural defences would hold, but wary of what an attempt would signify. But that took no conscious effort; he didn't let it distract him from her contributions.

"You gotta deliver the payload yourself, or could you cook up some'n for one of us to nail him with? I'm fine either way. Once that's done, everything else pretty much works itself out. Plays-with-birds and Devilman both got a price on their heads. All we'd have to do is up the take and they'll come flockin'. Even make a game of it. Least, as far as Hawkshade is concerned. Grimmwald's a bigger problem. Man's a goddamn force of nature. Doesn't just beat your ass. Tortures you. Guys - and girls - he catches? Peels their faces, entire skins sometimes. Lots of 'em he removes from the board completely." At that he took a drink, turning the bottle upside down and never righting it til it was completely empty.

"Folks're scared, good and bad alike - we can use that by the way. This is more of a personal vendetta, on account of me an' Rosso as a...part-time employee of mine, so if either of you wanna sit it out, no hard feelings. But if you want this city, he's gotta get dealt with sooner or later. Seems easy enough to bait - just about any dastardly deed will do. Annnnd if that's too chancy for the lady, some of us"—floating his eyes lazily to the abrasive former Shockwave—"happen to have friends and an intimate knowledge of this city."

Meanwhile, he too had begun disseminating his agents throughout the lost cause of a locale. But they weren't ready to know about that yet.