B.L.I.N.D.: Following the Leader

[TheBlindMime]

It was a windy day in New York City, the gusts dragged stray litter down the streets but it brought no change with it. The city was stagnant, the human populace had become intransigent over the recent legislature that was thrown down before them. The Kitsune were demanding the right to vote once more, but unlike all the other times before this move for a vote was gaining strength. It was one of the first things the goblin and gnome commitees had ever agreed on, if only they could pull the gargoyle vote as well they would be able to win Kitsune suffrage.

But that vote would not come for another week, so the air was as stagnant as the people. And although the sun was quickly rising deep within the city the only light came from the street lamps and beneath every lamp was a telephone but only one phone was in use. The figure stood silently beneath the lamp, his face concealed in the shadows he gingerly raised the receiver to his ear before pressing in a number he'd dialed countless times before.

"Hanson's Phone Messaging Service how can I help you today?" A faint voice replied.

"I have a message for Baron Lin-Ire Nolan Daniels. It should be account 212."

"I've found it sir, what is your message."

"I'm leaving. Sincerely James."

"Is that all sir."

"Yes, thats all." The figure smiled as he hung up the phone. Though the advancement of technology was always marching faster and faster with each passing year, BLIND was always right there with it. Using the phone messaging services had become the most recent trend as well as the most useful, much faster then that dreadful telegraph. James had made sure to use the groups main line so that they would all know his parting words.

He had been quite sincere.

(OOC: Alright heres where most people have the most fun, the introductory post. Finish up last missions, live whatever normal life you can, hassle mobsters. Whatever you want, go nuts. And Mintaro will be picking up the phone message first so don't worry bout it.)

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie Armstrong awoke, having vaguely recalled a dream about an All-You-Can-Eat Scrambled Egg Contest that she was losing. Slinging her legs over the side of the bed, she fought gravity and her currently tired state to rise to the day. She promptly shed her t-shirt and panties and stumbled into a shower, finding it difficult to really wake up even as the lukewarm water fell all about her.
Her awareness continued to falter up until she was fully dressed as she stared at herself in the mirror. Once again, she thanked whatever it was she believed in for the mysterious powers that saved her life and granted her a future that she's dreamed of. A future not just anyone could have.
Millie Armstrong. Gravelink. A victim who was fatally wounded in a vicious shootout who somehow recovered from her injuries thanks to some kind of miracle. The newest member of BLIND who headhunted her when her face was put on a newspaper. Millie collapsed back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, and relaxed for the time being.

[Inbred Chocobo]

The man was running, running ever so fast. Then again you would too if a 12 foot gargoyle came down and stopped the mugging you were doing. As the would be theif ran, he saw the cops swerve into his path, and he darted down an alleyway.

The gargoyle stopped at the entrance of the alleyway, watching the man run all the way down it. Luckily for him it went all the way to the other side of the street. Then he came to a sudden halt. He fell down, feeling his nose, for it had just been broke by the sudden stop. He looked up, and a wall was right there. He could have swore that there wasn't a wall there before, but there it was, and he had the broke nose to prove it.

The gargoyle made another step, the man feeling the very earth beneath him rumbling as it walked closer and closer. Then something appeared to his left. He turned quickly to see what it was, and what he saw was a lead pipe. The man dropped to the ground, knocked out cold by the weapon. The gargoyle vanished, not even leaving smoke behind.

The lead pipe had an owner. The owner had his usual gray suit on, and had the usual cigarette in his free hand. He took a smoke, and walked off. The street was empty, not a sign of anyone, considering it looked like a haven to cops when the crook ran by. The gray suit owner started down the street, lighting a cigarette.

[Aerozord]

An old man walked down a dark alley, something few would attempt. As luck would have it he came across some kind of back alley deal. The men turned to him, one spoke up. "You picked the wrong alley old man." Most that drew their weapons froze once they saw his eyes. Cold and piercing, eyes that were all consuming, eyes that you couldn't escape. "I no longer concern myself with such deallings. Simply make way."

One of the criminals however was too young to know when he should be afraid. He pulled out a revolver, "you think you can order us!" A shot was fired, but it was as if the old man was unphased. His moves were beyond fluid as he dodged shot after shot. The movements were nearly impossible to follow. The old man stayed collected as he got closer "fool, you just forfeited your life".

Click, the gun had emptied. They were now face to face, the others smart enough to not interfer. And with a sudden motion as snap was heard as the foolish young man fell. The old man calmly walked over him and out of the alley. Reaching into his pocket he checked his pocketwatch. "Back in the day men had the decentcy to conduct their activities during a proper hour, legal or otherwise."

[Mintaro]

"I see it now, the connections. The gnome riots, the assasination of kitsune reprisentative Nidore, The chain of robberies from prominent anasazi diplomats. It is all directed to cause an uprising before the vote. To make people beleive the Kitsune can't be trusted. I have to report this to the press." Nicholas grabbed his coat from his hanger and thrust his arms through the sleeves. Sliding his papers close to his chest he buttoned it and reached to open his office door. His eye caught the black hilt of his handgun on the table next to the door. Grabbing it he stuffed it into his pocket. "Just in case he muttered. He opened the door. Stepping into the waiting room he saw an unfamiliar man.

"I'm just on my way out so whatever it is you need it'll have to wait." Nicholas said to the pale man in the waiting room chair.

He stood up, smiling at the man. "Well you see, the thing is I need those papers of yours." He said pointing to the man and patting where the papers were conceled on his own body.

"what?" the man asked. "What papers?" Nicholas gripped the gun in his pocket. "What he hell is going on?" He wondered to himself.

"You were quite clever to find the link between the shot fired in the assasination and the shot fired that ignigted the riots. Two foreign bullets from the same gun, shots designed to appear to be foreign instigation. But the robberies are probably what opened the whole thing up eh? No trace? no records? not even the smallest slip up. And just in time for taxes. I know, all so timley and suspiciouse. I'm sure you looked into past events didn't you? My you didn't? Well i'm sure you would have found some of it quite interesting."

The Pale mans expression changed to one of outright disbeleife. "YOu did all this work and didn't even look into the history of the situations? My god man do you have any idea what you could have uncovered. Blown the lid off the whole cover up, the entire organisation! All because I left two shells behind! man you are a peice of work!" The pale man quickly pulled out a gun pointing it at Nicholas. "You see this gun? This is the gun that has brought the rise and fall of politics and economies. I am a hand of BLIND. An agent of Human superiority. We keep the rest of these lesser races in line. If they ever understood their true power humans would be erraticated. Or at the very least reduced to slaves. And the world would be in chaos. I keep the order. Now, hand over those papers." Danny said gesturing with one hand.

Nicholas listened in disbeleif. Everything he had suspected was true. Even the rumors of the underground organisation. And the man standing before him was the hand that had been causing all these changes in the world. But he had a chance to stop it. Nicholas quickly pulled the trigger on his gun, Firing off all six rounds from inside his coat. The gunshots ripped through the building with a deafining roar.

Danny stood there, his arms wrapped around his body.

"Yes I did it," Nicholas thought.

"You....shot me...." Danny said. He then looked up at The detective in front of him. "You actually shot me!" He said with a shocked look on his face. Then relaxing his stance he patted his body down. "No i'm just messing with you. You didn't really." Quickly Danny shot the detective. "I on the other hand, have shot you."

*******************************************


Danny counted the bills in his hand. "Not much money on the man, Oh well. I covered my ass." He said as he walked down the street. "I should check for messages." He said to himself. The next corner had payphone. Picking it up he slid the change into it. Quickly dialing a number he waited for the pick up.

"Hanson's Phone Messaging Service how can I help you today?"

"Yes I want to check messages for Account 212. Password Guidance."

"There is one message 'I'm leaving. Sincerly James.'"

"I see, thank you. Please keep the message."

"Have a ni-CLICK" Danny didn't have time to listen to the pleseantries.

"Damnit, what the hell is he thinking." With a thought Danny vanished. Moving quickly through the ether. " He better not expect me to try and cover his ass."

[GARUD]

Garud was bored. He had nothing to do, and was just hanging in the back of an alley. Usually he would have been given a mission, but today was a slow day. He yawned and webbed through the backstreets heading back to HQ. Maybe they would have something now, although they have not said anything. Making his way down the alley, he noticed a couple of Goblin thugs picking on a little kid, torturing him.

"What do you losers think you are doing?"

The pair turned and charged at the arachnid man. He shrugged and cleaved them in half. They weren't strong, so it was an easy task. However, the child was a little shocked.

"Kid, run home before I have to do the same to you."

Garud sighed, and the kid ran off. It was not a very eventful day. Got to dispose of the bodies, before I get back to HQ. The got to work.

[Toastburner B]

"...So that's the plan." the surly looking gnome said. "I've had my people plant explosives on the skyscraper that's being built on 31st and Broadway ((OOC: I know nothing about the layout of NYC...so just go with it)), when the time comes, we'll blow it."

Another gnome looked rather uncomfortable. "Surely there has to be another way..."

The surly gnome glared at the other. "There is no other way! We've tried the other ways! Only with this demonstration will the humans realize that we gnomes are not to be laughed at! Are we all in agreement?"

The surly gnome aimed his glare at each of his gnomish companions seated at the table, eight in all. None of them met his gaze, except one…the newest member of the group. He’d been there for a few months, but the gnome in charge didn’t trust him…not totally. However, in this case, the gaze was returned in a emotionless manner, which the lead gnome took as agreement.

“Good,” the lead gnome said, “Well wait until morning, when everyone is out and about…”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do this.” It was the new gnome.

Again, the lead gnome glared at him. “What?”

Again, the gaze was met, but this time, the lead gnome gasped in surprise. The once impassive gaze now burned with a ruthless fire. The definite gnome stood, straightened to his full height…and then kept growing.

Soon, Chester Hatfield stood in the defiant gnome.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do this,” Chester said to the shocked gnomes. “So many lives lost for so little gain.”

“H-Human!” one of the gnomes yelled.

“You son of a-“ the lead gnome yelled as he pulled a small handgun from his coat.

But Chester was not one to be unprepared. With a raise of his hand, a pillar of rock burst out of the wall like a drawer. And like a drawer, it was hollow inside. Chester pulled his trusty “Chicago Typewriter” from the space, and in one fluid motion leveled the gun a the surly gnome, and opened fire.

The gnome fell back, a series of bloody holes in his chest.

Chester surveyed the room. “As I said…I cannot allow this happen. Personally, I believe that with him dead,” he stated, pointing a the ruined corpse of the leader, “that the lot of you lack the backbone to go through with this.”
The gnomes looked relieved, but the Chester leveled his gun again.

“Unfortunately, I cannot take that chance. Too many innocents are at stake. I am truly sorry…I’ll try to make it up to you in the afterlife.”

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Chester had to shrink back to gnomish size to leave the hideout, but when he emerged, he returned to normal. He had been undercover in this group for some time, and, despite the fact that he had no discomfort in his gnomish size, he found it a relief to return to his full height. He was also glad to leave the carnage behind him. While Chester could be ruthless when called for, he never did enjoy “wet work”. However…sometimes, that was all that would work.

With another wave, a pillar rose from the ground, his tommy gun on top. Chester took the weapon lovingly and put it into it’s carrying case: a rather cliché instrument box. Adjusting his fedora,. he left the building where the gnomish terrorist hideout was, and turned left down the street. He would tip off the police to the bombs and the hideout, and he knew without a doubt, the slaughter in the basement would lead to more headlines wondering about the mysterious B.L.I.N.D. organization.

[Inbred Chocobo]

Roger really needed to stop going just for common theives. Then again he had just finished off the last of a radical group of gargoyles. That was were he got that other gargoyle idea from to scare the petty theif. It was quiet funny to see them thinking the hissing sound was all those snakes when it was the dynamite he planted at their feet.

Though since he did finish that job, there wasn't much else to do. True, stoppping petty thefts was nice and all, but that wasn't why he was here. Guess I better see whats up. Roger started to head off in a random direction. Though what he was looking for was a phone.

[TheBlindMime]

As Roger marched towards the nearest phone a bundle of papers was tossed down before him, the same thing was happening all over town. From the highest high to the poorest of poor there were few people who would be unable to get ahold of a newspaper. And today's Yorkshire Chronicle was filled with quite a lot of fun facts. These pieces included a few editorials slighting the kitsune, others the gnomes for supporting them, but there was a bright light in all of this. Senator Albright, in a world of ever falling values Albright is a beacon for all of us to be drawn too.

***********

Miles away there was a vast estate, to say it was large was to say the north pole was nippy. And just beside the victorian home which was laden with marble was a pool that shimmered a brilliant blue. The doors to the large house opened and a flurry of servants marched outside each carrying a piece of furniture in hand, they set them down with great care as they placed everything in as perfect manner as was possible. As they finished a middle aged man with a full head of blond hair and a perfectly trimmed moustache to match marched out in a ludicrously thick silk robe and sat down to his morning manhattan.

He lifted the glass to his lips bbefore leting out a relieved sigh, he had been waiting for that ever since he woke up all of 12 minutes ago. "My morning paper Wadsworth."

"Coming sir, but may I present your assistant Mr. Evermore." Wadsworth replied in the cliche butler tone.

"Yes, yes send him in Wadsworth." With a wave of his hand the man sent Wadsworth off to fetch his assistant. He took another sip of his manhattan as a thin man marched in, his hair was white and uniformly cut, not a hair out of place. His suit a finally tailored cobalt blue highlighted his piercing bright blue eyes and his ever-present smile seemed to have an air of joy which enveloped anyone in his prescence.

"Good morning Mr. Albright!" Evermore said without a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Whats so good about it Evermore?" Albright said as he finished his manhattan, just as he set it down upon the table it was picked up and replaced with a fresh one.

"Well Mr. Albright I have your Yorkshire Chronicle here with me." Evermore held up the paper as proof of his claim.

"And?"

"A brilliant success as always sir, the kitsune are under suspicion of desention and treason and the piece on you couldn't be any better had I written it myself." Evermore handed over the paper, Albright took it with a dopey smile as he looked it over.

"Evermore you did write this." Albright remarked as his manhattan was replaced once more.

"I can't fool you can I sir." Evermore bowed just slightly, "But onto more important subjects we are planned to arrive at Central Park at 10:30 for your speech on the recent rise in the crime rate. I've taken the liberty of jotting down a few thoughts for you as always." Evermore set the speech down next to the everchanging manhattan.

"Thank you Evermore, but why is it so early? You know how I dread these early morning ventures." He said whimsically as he sipped down another glass.

"Well as you see sir, the kitsune camp intends to protest at the same time and we need to steer away voter attention." Albright looked as if he was going to interject when with a serene smile Evermore dissuaded him, "Not to worry sir, I had the mayor grant their permit but it only enables them a tiny piece of land no where near central park to work with. Now if you'll excuse me sir I have some final preparations to finish for your grand entrance."

Evermore began to walk away as, "Everett, I know I don't thank you enough. So let me extend my graditude to you now." A little surprised, Evermore turned around with a gracious wink before turning back around, "And Evermore... tell Wadsworth to send for a masseuse."

"Very good sir."

***********

Quite near the bronx, or to be more specific the anasazi river housing project a group of kitsune all stood in the cold, the rivers cold breeze's brought a chill to the tiny group. On seemingly jolly kitsune marched up to the group with a clap and what sounded like a prepared speech, "Greetings one and all I cannot thank you enough for showing up to this wonderous occasion. Today we will bring our message to the people and show them that we mean business and that these fangs mean them no harm."

A few cheers arose from the crowd as they all clammored around Samuel Yamada, he was the newly appointed representative of the kitsune and should the kitsune be given the right to vote he was the clear favorite for next years elections and the word on the street was he favored Senator Albright's spot.

(ooc: anyone who feels like it can go ahead and get the message mime left for them, also if you'd like organize a meeting. That sound good to everybody organizing a meeting. Sorry if this sounds rude but i just realized i left myself no guiding gm tools like a member of the party. Excuse me whilst I think this over.)

[Toastburner B]

Chester spent a good part of the day just walking around. The gnomish terrorist spent much of time underground, and Chester needed some fresh air. Finally, he decided he should check in with the group.

But instead of him leaving a message, he found that there was already one.

"I'm leaving. Sincerely James."

Dang it....dangitdangitdangit. Chester thought to himself. No reason, just "Bye guys, screw you!"

"Any more messages, operator?" Chester asked.

"No, sir."

Chester mind raced. We need to have a meeting. I need to get caught up on what's going on...why Mime left...and if we have to hunt him. He almost decided on Central Park, but then he remembered he had heard that a kitsune rally was happening there. No doubt the other B.L.I.N.D. members had set up some sort of distruption for the rally, and he didn't want to be caught in it.

A pang of hunger hit him, giving him the idea for a meeting place.

"I'd like to leave a message, operator."

"Go ahead, sir."

"Meeting at the usual resturant around 9. Come hungry. Chester."

"Okay...anything else sir." The operator asked.

"No, thank you, miss."

"Have a nice day, sir."

"Thank you, miss...I'm sure I will."

Chester hung up the phone and shook his head. This was definately not going to be a good day.

[Armored Bishoujo]

"I'm leaving. Sincerely, James."
Millie removed the receiver from her ear and stared at it for a second before leaving her head against it again. "What? He can't just leave, can he?"
"There is an additional message from Masse."
Masse was the callsign for Chester Hatfield. "I'll hear it, please."
"Meeting at the usual resturant for lunch around 2. Come hungry. Chester."
"I see. Thank you."
"Would you like to leave a message?"
"No, I don't need to."
Millie hung up the phone. "Well, this is just perfect." Millie had more than enough time to make it to the restaurant, and didn't feel like doing anything else. She stepped out of the phone booth to ponder what she could do in the meantime, opting to go for a walk-
"Random patrol." Millie corrected herself with a smile.

[CallmePrismatic]

"Anything else I can do for you, sir?"
"No, nothing else right now, thanks."
"Have a nice day sir." The click on the other line signified the end of the conversation. Lennie didn't practice the art of hanging up when he was done.

He set the phone back in its notch and stepped out of the booth. P175 wasn't the most hopping joint because of the slanted clientele, but it was absolutely dead now. Not even a zombie about.

"Leaving so soon Lennie?" Karl looked up from the glass he was cleaning as Lennie threw his overcoat around his frame, his wings bunching up. "Haven't even ordered a drink, tryin to put me outta business?"

"Not right now Karl. Got some stuff to attend to. But here," His craggy hand emerged with a few crinkled bills emblazoned with various faces. "Buy some of the guys a few rounds on my behalf. You know the quickest way to the Wynand building from here? I've got some time to burn and I don't feel like waiting for a cab."

"Well, it's a few miles away as the crow flies..."
"A-ha."
"...But if you follow 30th you can't miss it. Tallest building in the city of course, you'd have to try and miss it. You probably already know that dontcha. By the by, if you don't mind me askin as a bar-to-drinker question, what is it you do exactly?"

But Lennie was already gone. Karl collected up the scattered money and resumed his barman duties.

(OOC: The Wynand building is a fictional building from The Fountainhead.)

[Inbred Chocobo]

"Hehe" Roger said under his breath as he glanced at the section mentioning the senator. Guess I'll got something new to do. Roger thought as he tucked the newspaper under his arm and made his way to a phone.

He dug in his pocket, and pulled out a simple coin. This phone better hold together until I finished with this conversation. He though as he slipped in the coin. He tapped in the number absently. It rung once and picked up. But before the operator could ask anything

"Account 212, password Guidance."

"There are two messages."

"First one?"

"I'm leaving. Sincerely James."

"Second one?"

"Meeting at the usual resturant for lunch around 2. Come hungry. Chester."

"Save em both."

Roger hung up then, and started off towards a direction. What the hell are you thinking James. The phone held in its cradle for a moment as Roger left, then all the change spewed out, and ther phone fell of the cradle, snapping the cable and dropping it on the ground.

[Mintaro]

Danny appeared inside his home, As usual the radio was going on the news channel. "...The fire appeared to be caused by an electrical problum in the mans radio. Police beleive the man died in his sleep. In other news..." Danny stopped listening. It looked like his plan had worked just as he had expected it would. He moved through his large mountain home quickly. Getting to his study he pulled out a peice of fine letter paper and began to write upon it.

To Mr. Armen,

You're child has shattered the milk bottle, please come clean it up.
There is no use crying over spilt milk.

From, Danny.

Folding the note up carefully he placed it into an envelope and sealed it with sealing wax, pressing his insignia into it. A little old fashioned perhaps but he felt it made for a personal touch. He fanished with the notes. Moments later reappearing with it in his hand he placed it within his old comrades mailbox.

Vanishing yet again he made his way over to Mime's home. He knew it would be deserted but he wanted to take the chance the man might be there. Or at the very least, have left some clues behind.

[Aerozord]

A young man was in Mime's dwelling. His eyes scanned the room, noticing every tiny detail within the room. "Wise my old apprentice, tie up your loose ends. But that doesn't answer why?" He went into the kitchen and got a beer out of an icebox. Popping off the top he took a drink. "Reguardless of why, he neglected his duties. BLIND is without its kitsune," he took another drink, "or its leader."

[TheBlindMime]

As Danny and Richard mulled through the barren home they found it to be very spartan indeed. His bedroom held nothing but a desk with a lamp on it but no pens or paper, a bed neatly made up with a Luopan hung just above it on the wall and a single chair placed in the center of the room facing the door. Every other room had absolutely nothing within it.

As Danny pulled the luopan from the wall with a sneer a tiny piece of paper fell upon the bed. Richard took a closer look at what was written upon it, "Every exit is an entry somewhere else." The zen remark appeared to have been calmly and slowly written across the scrap of paper. Danny merely snickered as he pointed out a small etching on the large compass Mime had left behind. "Longwood, NYC".

They had both found clues to where the mime had gone, one pointed to the Bronx, while the other pointed to a philosophy class.

As they stared at these clues a figure appeared behind them, he'd moved into the building so silently neither one had time to notice that is until he spoke up. "So the boy's gone and left has he?" They turned around to see a familiar and yet unwelcome face. Agent Joseph McDonald. He was a middle-aged man with a farm boy atittude and dressed like a gumshoe, cause he'd always wanted to be one. But he'd ended up becoming a highranking FBI member, high enough that he found a dirty little secret of the government.

They'd been paying BLIND off for years, though they were just a part of the system now. They had been completely anoynomous till he'd found them. Now Blind just knows who was signing there checks all these years.

"So," He said as if he had a right to inquire further. "How are you going to tie these loose ends?"

(ooc: Theres my gm guiding hand, McDonald. He'll be bugging you from now on. And for simplicities sake I think we should have that little meeting at 9 rather then 2 as you can meet, eat and interact with the situations i've set up. Also game time right now is 7:15 in the am. Also I'm totally up for reacting to anything so if you want to investigate anything go for it and you'll probably find something.)

[Inbred Chocobo]

"So this is where the senator lives?" Roger said to the guy standing next to him. The other guy simply nodded. "Smoke?" Roger pulled out his cigarette box and offered one to the man that sat next to him. The man raised a hand to suggest a no. "Oh well." Roger said as he lit one up. He watched as the senator got in his car. "Somebody needs to work out." Roger rambled on as he watched the chauffer drive off. Roger sat making chitchat with the man, who responded with nods and hand gestures.

Finally, Roger got up. The man looked up to him. Roger said "I'm going to go get a car. I'll see you later." As Roger walked away, the man got up and walked into an alleyway, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

[Toastburner B]

“How many will in your party?” The maître d' asked.

“Just two,” the man answered, “me and my wife.”

“Very good, if you’ll come this-“

The door opened, ringing the little bell, which brought he maître d'’s he around, and his eyes widened slightly. “Mister Masse,” the maître d' said, “I was not aware you had a reservation!”

Chester smiled as he took of his coat. “I didn’t make one, Mason, I have a business meeting that I had to set up on the fly. I’ll need the usual spot.”

“Of course, Mr. Masse! How many will you be expecting?” the maître d' asked.

“The entire board of directors I’m afraid, Mason.” Chester said, “It’s a very important meeting…and we’ll need privacy.”

The maître d'’s eyes widened even more. “Y-Yes Mr. Masse! I’ll take you to the private dining room right away.”

The man who had been there first looked outraged, “Excuse me, but I was here first-“

“Forgive me, my good man,” Chester said, giving the man a smile that didn’t travel to his eyes, “but this is rather important, and I have no clue when my associates will arrive, and as such, I must be seated immediately. However, please enjoy a bottle of the house wine at my expensive. Is that alright, Mason?”

“Surely it is, sir. Now, come this way…”
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The “usual room” was a quite little room off to the side of the main dining hall. The sound of people talking during their breakfast could be hear from the commons, helping to drown out any chance of being overheard. Chester took a seat, and took the menu offered to him from the maître d'.

“Will you be ordering now, or will you wait for your party?” he asked.

Chester’s stomach grumbled, but he sighed and folded the menu. “I’ll wait for my party. But can I have some water, please?”

The waiter nodded and left the room, and Chester smiled grimly. He had heavily implied to the waiter years ago that he was involved with the Mafia (and, given his the fact that shortly before that, Chester was involved in the mafia, it wasn’t hard to pull off), and the maître d' went out of his way to treat Chester and company well because of it. Old Mason is a coward at heart, Chester thought to himself. [i]He’ll treat us well, and tell us to come back, all while fearing we actually will.

The maître d' came back with the water, and pour Chester a drink. “When is your party expected to arrive?” he asked.

Chester looked at his watch. “They should be here shortly. I asked them to come at nine o’clock.”

EDIT (OOC: Due to GM request, I have moved the meeting time form 2 to 9.))

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie was the second to arrive, mainly because she felt she had to be extra early.
"That, or I've run out of good ideas. If only I had a lot of money."
The maitre d' was the first to approach Millie as soon as she entered. "Ah, Miss Gravelink, we've been expecting you."
I wonder if that means I'm late. Millie said, unsure of how to approach the man. "Where can I find the others?"
"Right this way, please."

The only other person in the room was Chester, who set up the meeting. Millie quietly sat down and accepted her menu. "Nothing right now, thanks." Millie said, and just sat there, staring at the center of the table. She was fine when working, but when not, she often found herself unable to communicate or enjoy herself around other members. Maybe I should take up smoking, she thought.

[Inbred Chocobo]

Roger walked into the room, escorted by the frightened waiter. He took a seat opposite Chester. Next to where James normally sat actually. Damn it James, why did you do it. He looked at the other two, and put on a calm face. "I'll have a scotch."

"Y-yes sir."

Roger kind of smiled to himself. He knew scotch wasn't on the menu, but he ordered one every time and they always gave him one.

[GARUD]

Garud dropped in to the room where the others were seated. He had come in minutes after Roger and had a deadly look on his face. He looked like he could shoot nails from the stare he gave.

"Well... I think we all know why we are here."

+++Earlier+++

Garud dialed the messaging account.

"I'm leaving. Sincerely James."

Slowly the Anasazi put the phone down. He took a step back, and then bashed it through with his fist sending the peices everywhere. But when people turned to look, he had already turned down the alley...

+++

"I'd say the first order of business would be to eliminate Mime..."

[Mintaro]

Danny smiled. "There is only one way to handle treason. Kill the treasoner and rectify any possible malarky he may have caused. Just standard clean up work. Though I beleive the right of dealing with Mime will ultimately fall to Dick." He said gesturing to Richard, refering to him by the common shortning of the time.

"Now if you don't mind Joe, I have a lead to take a look into." With that Danny began quickly walking in the direction of the address he had found. Straight for a wall.

[Aerozord]

Richard held his illusion of a young man, better to blend in with the youth around him. "Mime was my apprentice, and my responsibility. Besides I know all his tricks. After all, I was the one that taught them to him." He let out a long sigh. "Unfortunately Mime is not our only concern. In fact this has never happened in the organization, but its needless to say we can't let him live. The best route might be for myself to focus on him. Rest of you have your own duties."

[CallmePrismatic]

"Oh, Lennie, I believe you're one of the last. May I take your coat?"
"It's Rocco for now, and I'll take it off myself, thanks. Usual room?"
"Yes. And would you like anything to eat?"
"A nice medium-well cheeseburger, just the burger and cheese."
"Ah, the usual then. I'll bring it as soon as I can."

Rocco nodded and proceded to the unofficial BLIND room, where he discovered that he was one of, if not the, last to arrive. "So, will my cheeseburger be the only good part of the day?"

[Mintaro]

Richard spoke his bit before Danny made it to the wall. The last thing Danny heard as he began to pass through it was from Joseph however. "Au revoir Danny boy."

Danny phased through the wall and out the building. Turning invisible he quickly flew off. The location he had found worried him greatly. It was the same location of the Kitsune rally today. Danny looked down at the city scape below him. It almost looked like some sort of twisted gaming board the way it twisted and turned. At one point most of this had been farmland. The world was changing. But thanks to Blind it was changing for the better. 96% of the worlds wealthy class was human now. Compared to last years 94%. Three years ago it was higher then that however. Disgusting how no matter what happened a few of these creatures mannaged to slime their way to the top. It could often take years of work to take down their finances quietly.

Danny slowed and stopped mid air looking around he saw what had grabbed his attention. A lone ghost figure floated through the air towards him. "I'm in no mood for games today what do you need?" Danny asked roughly.

"Easy Half-ghost. I have come to warn you. Someone has been collecting ghost's. The client has already gathered nearly a dozen of them to his side."

Danny blinked, wondering if he had heard right. "A dozen? Where did he aquire them?"

"He purchased them off of other wealthy men and women. I nearly sold my services as well but thought it seemed a little too suspiciouse for my taste."

"I should say so," Danny commented, rubbing his semi existant chin. "A dozen...Why would anyone need so many...This is just too much. Thank you for the information, I'll see to it the money is deposited into you're account."

The ghost bowed mid air. "You're too kind." He Vanished.

Danny smiled, he had many ghost contacts. It was hard to stop ghosts from being double agents when you couldn't track them. Moving faster Danny headed towards the rally. The ghost gathering screamed Mime. Which was exactly why Danny was going to ignore the jive. If Mime wanted them to follow his bread crumbs then that was precisly what Danny was going to do. Then as soon as he could get his hand out, he'd take the loaf, and the hand it was attached to.

No one sold out the human race to those inferior skid-row gooks. Danny had the guns to see to that.

[GARUD]

"Well, from the looks of things yes."

Garud was still in his foul mood, although he had calmed quite a bit.

"Richard, we all knew Mime, but as members of B.L.I.N.D, we must ALL follow protocol. This means it is all of our problems and I'm pretty sure this takes priority."

The anasazi paused before continuing,

"He went against what he had become, what we had become. He knows too much. As far as I'm concerned, all other missions should be put on hold or delay. My thinking though is that we have to find him... we need some clues really."

Garud stood up and paced the middle of the room.

"First thing we need to find out was where he was when he left the message. If we can listen to the message, and try and figure out from the background noise where he was at the time of the call, well it may lead us somewhere. Secondly, we should be predicting where he is going. My thinking is that he would be attending the Kitsune thing. There has to be something with that. Finally, we should look for all of our leads and trace all records of him. Where he went, how he acted, how predictable was he? Things like that may lead us right to him."

The Anasazi sat down again. He was down-to-business and alot of his rage was pushed to the back of his mind. He had to treat this as a mission.

"Okay, so who's doing what?"

[Aerozord]

Richards eyes narrowed. "Do not be a fool child. Mime would leave no records or clues unless he wanted us to find them. Though it has become clear he wants us too. He may have even predicted my return." He leaned back and gave a long sigh. "However I remain the only x factor we have. He knows this organization well, but I know him even better"

[TheBlindMime]

Joseph dabbed his mouth with a table cloth trying to appear as dispassionate as possible. As the others spoke of Mime's phone message quite constantly he himself had not heard it. Joseph had never been given access to the Message service much to his chagrin. "Don't be so sure Richard, the boy you met and dubbed mime and the man I met who called himself the mime were vastly different." Joseph's intrusion into the conversation was met with an awkward silence.

"That is to say, the 15 year old boy you met was impetuous, uncouth and an experienced liar. After 16 years experience he's become a man who is practiced, mecticulous and tells lies that are as good as the truth."

The awkward silence continued. "I can tell you with complete confidence that we haven't been able to track Mime's movements without him letting us for over ten years. And he always clued us to his movements through a manner I'm sure he enjoyed."

Joseph solemnly removed an envelope from his jacket and set it onto the table in front of him. "The letter before you is the final correspondence I recieved from Mime, it was sent to my D.C. office just in time for me to travel here and arrive at Mime's home; which I found through the return address, to run into Richard and Danny."

Joseph cut off a large piece of his egg and shoved it into his mouth, as he spoke bits of egg sprayed from his lips, "Mime once told me he had wanted to become a writer."

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie didn't make a move for the envelope. What would be the point in her seeing it? Millie never really knew Mime. She hadn't even gone on a mission with him, assuming the whole time that it was due to the big gap of individual experience each of them had. She was more concerned about a motive, but knew that was a dumb thing to think about as well. Even if the decision he made on a whim had saved the planet, BLIND still would have him sentenced for elimination. Those were the rules.
Millie silently sat at the table and listened as carefully as she could while glancing at the menu. Everything was too pricey for her budget. She'd hit a fast food restaurant later if there was some free time.

[Inbred Chocobo]

"Well let me do the honors." Roger reached over and picked up the enevelop, tearing it open gently. He flipped the papaer out, coughed and read out the note. He added to the feeling by using Mime's voice as he read it, making it sound like one of those movie things where you hear the thoughts of the person as they wrote it out.

((Okay, post what the note says. I thought this would be the easiest way to do it too.))

[TheBlindMime]

As Roger began to read the finely hand written letter, his mock mime voice seemed to grow closer and closer to Mime's true voice, his voice echoed in your ears and his words rippled through your mind... or something like that.

"I am but a mime, a humble servant of the arts; I perform for the masses, performing upon the whims of society as demanded. But did the people truly demand my performance. Was there truly ever a call for an encore to our predecessors conclusion. Which begs me to ask; Are we the performers, or are we merely props?

Props exploited for purposes we foolishly follow for no other reason then because we were told to. This is what makes us Blind; blind to our faults, blind to the results of our actions, blind to the very fact the evil we seek dwells within us far more then beyond us. Blind, what a masterfully chosen title. So few even ask these days, the question has gone beyond asking beyond even wanting to be known, it has traveled into the very subconcious of us all; there is lies dormant in a sleeping slothful state, waiting, willing, bending us to it's desires.

The question, Joseph; What does B.L.I.N.D. stand for? Didn't you ever wonder... You didn't! Not even once? maybe just the one time right! But, it was never ever enough to ask?! To bark forth that question which nipped at your curiousity and now eats away at your soul. No?

Then perhaps more questions shall be raised, rather then asking what B.L.I.N.D. stood for when it was created, mayhaps you should focus on what those in blind stand for; Justice, Nobility, Equality? Hardly. They chose to join a group for power; Hubris, Avarice and Extravagance are their sins, as well as mine.

I'm as tainted as any one of them, my wrath has caused so many to meet their creator, their god. But what god is there for me, most would say only a devil, but I don't believe that. God forgives all sins doesn't he Joseph? Your sins can be washed away can't they, then why not mine. Is it because they run deeper.... am I soiled to the core Joseph?

Soiled by a choice......

I envy you Joseph.... you still have the right to change..."

As Roger finished reading the page he noticed a small inscription on the bottom of the letter it said, "Page 1".

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie looked thoughtful. "Well, at least we have a motive. But isn't that just the way things are? As a foundation, we are living weapons wielded by those who command us. We don't question our orders or consider the results of what we do because then, we become not only less useful as weapons, but dangerous to the hands of our masters. Thus, we would need to be destroyed."
She leaned back, staring at a painting on the opposite wall. "As for sins...well, that's something that can't be avoided, whether you're BLIND or not. The only real difference in our sins is that we don't answer to the law when we commit them because of what we do. At least that's what I think."

[CallmePrismatic]

Rocco chomped through his burger as it was being read aloud, then started munching on some fries while Deadlink mused over the less concrete aspects of the reading.

"What does B.L.I.N.D. stand for?"

[TheBlindMime]

"Baal's Legacy of Ideological Natural Directives." Joseph read-aloud from a small paper pad, he flipped the book shut and slipped it back into his coat pocket. "Well at least thats what mime told me, though he had other various names too. That one sounded the most official. Though they almost all referenced one of the first stories of creation from the first human tribes. Y'know the one where Baal creates mankind then the other gods create the other races to spite him for his boasting of mans abilities, I'm not much for epic storytelling so you'll have to forgive my tearse explanation."

As the group pondered mime's message a man in an excessively fine tailored suit strolled into their restaurant of choice. "G'morning Jeeves, I got a real biggie on my hands and he's going to be real cheesed if he doesn't get some eats real soon, well lets just say that the whole family wouldn't be too happy with ya. And when the family isn't happy with ya, you'll hear about it right quick."

The maitre'd looked quite confused, "Excuse me sir, I really do not mean to pry but are you trying to say that...you have mob connections?"

"You catch on quick lame brain, but at least you got some moxie huh?" The man tapped his hand sharply on the maitre'ds chest.

"Cough*, excuse me sir, but I believe I that your biggie is expected in the main dining hall..."

"OH yeah?" The mobster looked a little concerned for a minute, "So what exactly is going on in there?"

"Just a meeting between all the big-wigs... sir."

"Okey-dokey, thanks for the news patsy, don't inform the party about my arrival just yet though, I'd like to surprise them." The mobster pulled a fin from his pocket and slipped it into the Maitre'd's palm. "Be right back."

The mobster walked to a rolls-royce and tapped on the window, it lowered slowly. "Excuse me sir, but we have a few phonies in the joint, and we'll be needing to clear this baloney up before you can enjoy the atmosphere."

A raspy voice wheezed out from the backseat of the car, "I've suddenly lost my appetite Tony. Eighty-six the phonies."

"With gusto." Moments later a dozen men, all in fine tailored suits marched into the restaurant with tommy guns in hand. "Get out patsy." Tony laughed, the maitre'd and everyone else who saw them rushed out the door as silently as they could, but the rushing footsteps and sounds of killers checking over their guns echoed through the door of the private dining hall.

"Gotcha!" Tony yelled as the men opened up on the place.

[Mintaro]

Danny floated above the group of kitsune below. A few stood with signs. Painted with variouse phrases. At the lead was the object of Danny's disgust, Samuel Yamada. Danny wished he could simply shoot the man down. but he knew that would only help the Kitsune. What the hell did they know about government? The right to vote? They're lucky they have the right to live.

A little distance away Danny saw something that was a quite heartening and even more distressing. A group of Anti Kitsune. Toting bats and guns. Danny sighed. He would have loved to have let the situation play itself out. But he knew better.

Materialising in a doorway in the street ahead of the mob he steped out into their path. He stood there, an imposing figure to be sure. Danny held up one hand signaling for them to stop. They approached him, yelling and ranting about the kitsune. Danny never flinched. They stopped just in front of him and soon grew quiet looking at him in a slight confusion. When the group had settled he lowered his hand and spoke. "I know how you feel. You are worried for the saftey of your faimlies. The well being of your daughters, or sisters. Concerned that the Kitsune will begin taking your jobs, working for lower wages. I know you are outraged. I know you want them out of our beautiful country. I want the same thing. But this is not how you do it. Violence will only breed sympathy. As we speak people are watching us. Did you forget you are in a neighborhood? Is this what you want to show the world Humans are? Beasts that kill at the drop of a hat. The age of might is passing us by. The age of democracy is upon us now. If you want to stop the Kitsune from Gaining momentum. Do the Democratic thing. Talk to your neighbors, your faimlies, your politicians! Let them know how you feel, what you think. And then, when the time comes. Vote it down. Vote in record numbers. But do not attract attention to this issue. If you harm them you will only make people feel sorry for their cause. Let words fight this war. Go back to your homes. I promise you that if you do as I have said, there will be no change."

With that Danny turned around and walked away, Turning a corner he vanished. Floating back into the air, watching their activities.

[Inbred Chocobo]

When they opened up, what the mob saw was the dining hall being ripped apart. They felty the guns shake with each round as they fired, and heard the bullets dropping, shells hitting the floor, and wood splintering and people dying.

In reality, Roger was standing in front of the one giving them orders, all of their guns locked up before the first round even left the chamber. Roger picked up a chair, and broke it over the head of the one that shouted, knocking him out. Of course, all the others thought they were still shooting, none realizing they have already shoot 3 times the amount of ammo they had.

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie didn't waste her bullets and pulled out the steel pipe she had tucked into the back of her jeans, covering the rest with her jacket. After the initial shock, Mille moved out, choosing the nearest mook. It was a simple combination she perfected. A swift kick to the groin caused the mobster to double over and she promptly bashed him on the back of his head with the pipe, dropping him flat on his face. "As usual, we meet so many people who just have no clue. How's everyone else doing?"

[Toastburner B]

Unlike Millie, Chester had no conpunctions about wasting bullets.

At the word of fire, Chester had created a wall of stone between him and the mobsters out of reflex, the stone jutting out of the floor. When he realized that the firing hadn't gone on, he peeked up, and noticed that the hit men didn't even realize they had stopped firing.

Chester stood, and picked up this his, opening it and taking out his tommy gun. "You shouldn't worry about not killing these men," he says to the rest of the group. "They're heavies...mob hitmen. Nothing more than living weapons waiting to be told what to destroy." Chester stepped out from behind his cover. "I should know...I was one of them once upon a time." Am I still just a living weapon? Chester thinks to himself. Mime's reasoning hit closer to home than Masse cared to admit...he was almost thankful for the mob's interruption. "Besides...if one of them stops to think about it, they might recognize me. It wouldn't due at all to have word on the street that I was back around." Chester readies his tommy gun, and levels it. He has no compunctions about killing these men, both to keep his identity safe, and because he wasn't lying about their purpose and life. "Any objections?"

[TheBlindMime]

"Salud!" Joseph said enthusiastically as he rasied a glass to toast Chester's idea. He seemed rather amused by the whole situation, he was well aware that had he not been with them he would be dead, then again no one else would have pretended they were mobsters for a free meal. Then a thought struck Joseph, "Did anyone else think the eggs were delicious?"

[Aerozord]

A few mobsters sat at Richard's feet. "Fools, as I said men today have no class. They used to quietly eliminate those that crossed them, letting an innocent die was something they would never tolerate. Now they just take their automatic weapons and shoot anyone they see. I should kill them all myself simply to punish their arogance."

[CallmePrismatic]

"I know it's low-key, but couldn't we have an eating-meeting at the Stage Deli once in a while? Best cheeseburger in existence, no contenders." And with that Rocco finished the last of his 9 A.M. cheeseburger, deciding to finally acknowledge the commotion. "Well what're you waiting for Masse, gun em down. 'Cept for the smallest one, just nick the shrimp in the knee and we can let Dick over there interrogate."

[Toastburner B]

With no objections, Chester opened fire.

He could imagine what it looked like to the men he was killing, assuming Roger's illusion held. To them, it probably appeared that Chester carelessly waded through their fire. Starting at the left end of the room, Chester opened up. He slowly worked his gun over across the group heavies. For a moment, they held their ground, if believing their illusionary bullets would suddenly become effective when they move needed it to.

But that miracle did not happen for them.

When the third man died under Chester’s gun, they turned to flee. Chester’s slow panning became a wild spray, gunning down the men as they fled. With a series of clicks, Chester’s gun emptied. Three of the men still ran. With a wave, Chester caused the ground beneath the restaurant to do his bidding. For the two of the men, it meant death as sharpened pikes of rock impaled them. A hand of rock rose from in front of the last one, grabbing him.

Chester, lowered his hand, and surveyed the scene. “I would of preferred a different solution,” he muttered, “but we had no choice in this case.”

Chester looked at Rocco. “You have your survivor, Rocco.” Chester said. Then he looked at Roger. “We need to go see the mob boss is still around. If things take much longer, he might call up more men.” Chester gestured to the dead men and the ruined room. “Can you ‘convince’ him that his men are alive and well long enough for us to make an exit?”

[Inbred Chocobo]

All the men suddenly got back up, no gunshot wounds, no injuries, no nothing. "Yeah, I'll take care of the boss." Roger said, turning into the one that was giving orders earlier. Then, with a voice change to mimic the one that was giving orders. "Okay boys, we got em. Let's bring the good news to the boss shall we?" Roger said, walking out first, the the grunts behind him.

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie watched them leave out the door and then turned to Rocco. "Best cheeseburgers, eh? Want some company?"
She put away the steel pipe, checking it for blood first. She didn't want to stain her shirt or jacket.

[TheBlindMime]

The mafia don sat wheezing in his car taking veteran puffs off of his cigar as a mook standing outside the vehicle checked his suit for any wrinkles. "Oh boss, here comes tony. How goes it tony?" The guys heavy New York accent made his words run rather closely together but it was evident to anyone who heard him he was completely unaware something was amiss.

[Inbred Chocobo]

"One almost got away from us." Roger said. He guessed the guy was talking to him since he was looking at him. The fake mobs kind of stood around while Roger came in closer to the car. "Amost." He repeated, this time with a smile.

[TheBlindMime]

"Good stuff, Y'here that boss, didja here that-"

"Shut yer yap you bulbous moron *cough hack wheeze* I heard Tony. But somethings up." The large mook opened the door for his boss upon a nod of the flaming ember in the enshrouded car. The tiny frail little man hopped down from the vehicle with an audible cracking in his joints. The little goblin don looked up at the false Tony, "So tony, whats with the sudden enthusiasm in yer yap. After all I should have eaten by now its already 10."

********

And it indeed was 10 o'clock, across the burough line in the bronx the kitsune were putting the final preparations together for their protest. As one inked a final poster he turned to Samuel, "How is this Mr. Yamada?"

Samuel smiled politely and then nodded in a very disapproving manner, "Well Daniel if we put words like 'No', 'More' and 'Human' in a sign they will find us to be advesarial rather then trying to become a kin to them."

"Oh I see." The boy looked at his sign which read 'No More Human Intollerance', "But it ends with Intollerance, isn't it ok then?"

"Well Daniel-san, I've come to appreciate in my time here the small bits of attention mankind will give to the other races, they only have time for three words when it comes to us." Samuel held up three fingers to illustrate his point.

"I see Mr. Yamada. Also I'm not Daniel, I'm Eric." The boys nose lengthened and his hair turned a deeper shade of red.

Samuel sighed. "Eric we must stop using false pre-tenses around humanity. They will never trust us as long as we continue to use our powers in such manners."

"Then how should we use our powers Mr. Yamada?" Eric asked with a deep sense of sadness in his voice.

Samuel set his hand on the boys shoulder with an overwhelming smile on his face, "Sparingly. Now lets hurry my friends and brothers, we have little time to spare now." They only had one-half hour before their protest began now.

There had been only one small mention of the protest in the New Yorskshire Chronicle; it had been on the third page, towards the bottom, nestled imbetween some advertisements for new radios.

On the radio at this particular moment on the other hand was a message that had been playing all morning, "Good Morning New York City, this is your Mayor Henry Watkins speaking, just wanted to make sure that you all head down to Central Park this morning to hear myself and Senator Albright will be making speeches today about the Moral Decay this government has fended off for many years. We hope that you can all find time in your busy schedules to attend."

The recording was nearly worn to the nub now.

(OOC you guys don't have to stay as a group, if you would like to investigate on your own I'm more then happy to accomadate. Also, you can find mime if you follow the clues he leaves for you. Just make sure to mention where you are and what you are investigating and I'll either give you additional info or your lead will dry up. The letters will always be addressed to Joseph but they are meant for you. Tootles.)

[Inbred Chocobo]

"Sorry boss." Roger said, letting the smile drop. "Its just that the fakes were some of those boys we have been trying to get for a while now." Roger started walking to the driver, not really sure what to do now.

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie looked around and shrugged. "We probably shouldn't stay here any longer. Does anyone know where 'he' might go if 'he' just decided to leave us?" she asked no one in particular.

[TheBlindMime]

"I don't know where Mime would go, but I do know where he's been." Joseph said in a very metered and calm pace as he dug into the remains of his eggs benedict. "He spent over a year in Japan, his goal was to live unnoticed amongst the kitsune themselves to prove he had mastered his skills. Then he returned to America to triumphantly retire... Shouldn't Roger have come back by now?"

******

Just outside the boss was taking a closer inspection of Tony through his rather thick and imperfect glasses. "You sure you're ok tony, you ain't thinking about pulling some funny stuff are you know?"

The goblin don's only remaining mook companion quickly drew his gun, but due to his proximity to his boss the mechanism holding the guns clip in place slipped dropping his ammo to the ground in the most humiliating way possible.

********

Meanwhile in Central Park the stage was set and ready for both a mayoral and a senatorial speech straight to the people. Attendance was high as both conservatives and worried liberals were drawn to the commotion, though not all those drawn to the event were there to listen.

High above the crowd in one of the towering trees of the park was a small web holding an Anasazi with quite a temper. His tribes attempts to secure land had been repeatedly shot down by the mayor without any true consideration. The spider loaded a round into his rifle's chamber and set his extra rounds down next to him. "The anasazi will not be ignored any longer."

He took careful aim at the mayor and waited for the speeches to begin, he had to make sure he had the crowds full attention.

(ooc: IC kill the don, make a deal with him or whatever you feel like. He's in no way important to the storyline so you can waste him or leave him be at your leisure.)

[GARUD]

(OOC: Sorry for no posty peeps.)

Garud crawled up the wall. He was on the side of th bulding after the commotion was set. During it, he had taken two of the don's people into the back alley and cleaved them into... well you don't quite want to know.

"Hmm... the others can handle themselves. I think it's time to start checking things out. And I'd bet that it has something to do with an official. Let's see. There are a few senators around, couple of parliamentary secretaries and the mayor... there's a convenient thing on in central park too. I think I like co-incidences."

His decision was made while he searched the bodies of the two mobsters... what was left of them. The tommy guns weren't his style, but was able to recover a knife, and two handguns. He then crawled up the wall, and noticed one of the mobsters. The way the don was acting, it seemed he was not a real mobster. Garud chuckled and slung off down to the park, where the mayor was. He wondered what he was going to find. The anasazi moved through the shadows, seemingly unnoticed.

He was halfway there when it happened...

[Armored Bishoujo]

"He should've left a body here for me to reanimate. Sure, information is cool but I don't think we have time to try and fool nameless idiots."
Then the TV in the restaurant switched to the broadcast of the mayor and the senator. Millie sighed. "I may be the newbie, but I'm pretty sure that whenever those guys talk, we have to do the real troubleshooting."

[Inbred Chocobo]

"God thats terrible." Roger said, as he sloly changed back into Roger. But all the other mobsters that were fakes looked in shock, and Roger made it look like he pulled out a pistol, and shoot everyone one of them, then he pointed a gun at the boss.

"Alright, you pretty good at spotting something wrong, but I haven't killed you yet. I might need your men for later on." Roger said, gun pointing straight at the don. Though Roger had already left a fake image there too, and was off to the side, prepared to knock the shit out of the last mobster if he tried to club him.

[Toastburner B]

After Roger had gone outside with the “goons”, Chester immediately headed for the kitchen to cook something up. With the restaurant deserted due to the gunfire, he had it all to himself.

For a few minutes, he moved back and forth across the room. Gathering some oils here, a piece of the stove there, and what other knick-knacks caught his eye as well. Soon, the object came together, and Chester walked outside to see how Roger was doing. Considering there were a bunch of “dead” goons, he wasn’t sure which way it was going. However, revealing himself to a mafia boss who could very likely identify Chester was his last move…not that the boss would live long enough to tell anyone that a Hatfield still lived.

Chester stayed out of sight, holding his quickly made bomb in hand. It was up to Roger as to whether or not it got used.

((OOC: I hadn’t used my “McGuvyer” skill yet, so I just wanted to throw something in.))

[TheBlindMime]

(ooc: nice to see you back garud, also props on the webslinging.)

The goblin don wheezed for a moment, "If you wanted the use of my men then why did you kill them. Bah, you young turk goblins never think ahead these days. But... you do have moxie though and that, I like." The small goblin pulled out a card and handed it to Roger. "Call me when you want a job kid and I'll remember I owe you one. Lets go Derricks this joint don't belong to us no more."

Derricks opened the old goblins door for him, the handle came off in his hands but he tried to make it appear nonchalant. Slipping into the Rolls Royce he stuck the keys in the ignition and began to try to turn over the engine it was giving him a little trouble but he would have it started in moments.

*********

As the radio (little to early for tv's) came on they caught the tail-end of the mayoral speech. "-but this year hasn't been all ups and no downs, the corruption that plagues us continues to do so. Organized Crime is on the rise and I like most mayors believe that this is because of alcohol, it is alcohol which drives good men to crime and even worse, to organizing it."

He paused for a moment to clear his throat, "But thanks to your support in my next upcoming term as your mayor I will continue to do what I set out to do all those years ago, improve city schools, stem the wave of crime, lower taxes; thats right, all of the promises I made for my first campaign will be fufille-*BLAM*

He'd waited for his moment with utmost precision, for you see, years ago before Henry Watkins had become the mayor he made a lot of promises. One of those promises was to the Anasazi, he promised to help them regain some of their lost territory from the government, instead he gave them sub-standard housing and prevented any legal action they took. This begat an illegal action, and the anasazi who had taken it was reloading his rifle for another shot.

[Inbred Chocobo]

Roger slipped the card in his pocket and started his way back towards the restarant. As he moved away, the Rolls Royce finally started and off they went. Roger stopped at the door, and watched them drive off. "Alright Chester, you can come out now." Roger said as he stepped in.

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie grinned as she listened to the radio. "Alcohol? That's his carefully considered assumption? Alcohol? What about girls like me? I'm sure we cause men to..."
*BLAM*
Millie raised her hands up as though trying to fend off an attack from the radio. "Gunfire? Is someone trying to assassinate the mayor?"

[TheBlindMime]

Correction, someone had assasinated the mayor. As he layed crumpled on the stage not one person came to tend to him, a monument to the man he was. His assistants, benefactors, friends and even his wife all ran in a frenzied panic towards the stages many steps, unfortunately for them though the anasazi assassain had 6 arms and they were all working towards reloading, aiming and firing his rifle.

Fortunately for Senator Albright though he was still in his car he had opted to wait for his assistant Everett Evermore before moving to the stage and for some reason Everett was running quite late. Albright merely watched the scene apathetically through the window of his chauffered vehicle.

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie scratched at her cheek thoughtfully. By the time she could get there to see what was going on, the intended victims would be dead and the culprit would probably be brought the justice. Millie scratched at her cheek thoughtfully. By the time she could get there to see what was going on, the intended victims would be dead and the culprit would probably be brought the justice. And Roger had everything taken care of here so...
"I'm heading to the city gathering. If I'm not there, I'll be eating at the Stage Deli that Rocco mentioned."
And with that, the girl checked her gun and was gone. The gathering wasn't far and she could be there shortly even on foot.

[GARUD]

Garud sped along when he heard the gunfire. He found that someone had assasinated the mayor. And rightly so, the bastard deserved to die. Still, there may have been a use for him. He may have known something. But there was still another political figure.

"Hello Senator."

Garud was right next to the car, and he busted the window open, pulling the senator out by his neck. The man still got cuts due to the sharp glass but he was fine all-round... apart from the shock. The anasazi agent used the commotion to take him swiftly down an alley, and then scale to the top of a roof. There he pinned the senator against a metal fence. The fence was wire, and it surrounded the buildings electrical generator.

"I have some questions for you."

The anasazi put a handgun to the senator's ear. Guns and knives always seemed to get the answers better than threatening with fists.

(OOC: TBM, if the senator is important, just tell me and I'll change my post.)

[TheBlindMime]

Senator Albright had been drinking quite heavily all morning and as such his recent foray into the world of webslinging had been quite disorienting. Though the gun to his head didn't help either. "What, questions for me? Buddy do you know who I am, I'm Senator F*CKING ALBRIGHT!!!"

Albright tried to match the intensity of aggression of the ohter man's eyes, only to quickly realize he was outmatched in that department his eyes drifted down to something that confused him more. The man's extra arms. "What are you?"

For a moment the senator had completely forgotten about the gun, seeing only what wasn't pressed into the side of his head, the face of a man with the body of an Anasazi. But as Garud clicked back the hammer on his gun the senator became a surprisingly docile and helpful man. Sober too.

(Garud just don't kill him and everythings kosher, but as a heads up I'm going to say he doesn't know much outside of his administration. Though, he has met mime he doesn't know mime by that name or that he had anything to do with blind.)

***********

The kitsune rally was booming, they had gained a lot of support in the few blocks they were marching through, as anasazi, goblins and gnomes had made their way into the rally to show their support for Kitsune Suffrage. But others made their way to places where they wouldn't feel the harsh glow of struggling freedom.

A rather large group of white men were gathered in the church, they were the lowest of low class humans, many of them homeless but all of them had a problem with the rally just down the street. Before them stood a man they knew to be kind, merciful and above all else forgiving. But today something had earned his ire, as he gripped the altar he spoke with a sense of grievance behind all his words.

"Today we are present for an unfortunate turn of events, as I'm sure you've all heard by now, the mayor has been assassinated and just down the street there's a pride rally for the Kitsune who had been repeatedly rebuked by our beloved mayor. Now I'm not saying that these two things are connected, but I'm sure not one of you here can prove they aren't." A flurry of nods began amongst the crowd.

"And that isn't all....."

[Mintaro]

Danny materialised behind the assassin. Grabbing his head with one hand he forced it forward sharply. Slamming his face into the branch in front of him. Pulling his head back he slammed him into it again. When he pulled back several fangs were stuck into the bark and blood coated the leaves below. The stunned anasazi Took a minute before his arms began flailing. Trying in vain to reach his attacker while still holding onto the rifle. Calmly pulling out a pistol Danny cracked the back of his head with the hilt. The man finally collapsed in his web unconciouse. The rifle dropped from his grip falling to the ground, discharging a round when it hit. Danny pulled the Anasazi assassin into an etherial state with him and began to float away. "Scum like you, I hope you keep tight lipped. The more I get to interrigate you the happier I'll be."

[GARUD]

(OOC: No killing, gotcha)

Garud looked at the man with contempt. Going up real close he yelled,

"What do you know about MIME?"

"Who... who's mime?"

"Don't lie to me!"

The senator could not meet the anasazi's deathly gaze. He replied meekly.

"I don't know any Mime. You probably have got the wrong senator."

Garud was perplexed. The senator was not lying. He had no clue who mime was. If he did, he probably would be dead. Still, this guy knew something and the anaszi agent was prepared to get it out of him. So how do I go about this? Hmm... Hansel and Gretel left breadcrumbs. Maybe that's it. Okay, find the first breadcrum. We know that Mime is a member of BLIND. Was a member. So there's a start, but we have no leads. There's got to be something else. Maybe... KITSUNE! He's KITSUNE!

"Okay, let's try something else. How far are the kitsune going to get with their protest? Will there be any change?"

[Armored Bishoujo]

Millie arrived at the gathering...or what was left of it, anyways. A lot of people fled to their homes while some went about their ways. The corpse confirmed Millie's assumptions about the mayor but...
"The senator's not here, too?"
"He fled to his car," a nosy civilian said. "This one freak came down on it, pulled the guy out through the window and just took off with him. Police tried to find him but the guy was too fast."
"Which way did he go?"
"Fled into some alley, I heard. I was running so I didn't see anything."
If the guy was fast enough to kidnap the senator and evade any pursuers, he could be miles away by now. This was a waste. "Maybe I should go to that Stage Deli Rocco mentioned." Millie said to herself. "I'm so hungry, I could eat a brain."

[TheBlindMime]

"Kitsune? No, they aren't going to get anything done, Everett assured me that they would be contained in a few square blocks in the lower bronx. They couldn't even make a martyr of their last representative. And now look at whats happened! Watkins is dead we have all the cards now, whether the assassin is caught or not I will assure you he was a kitsune and thats how the report is going out tonight!"

[Toastburner B]

((OOC: Sorry about not posting on this one…I almost forgot about it.))

As Roger passed him, Chester pulled a wire or two off his bomb, reducing it to nothing more than a bizarre paperweight. He walked back in, throwing the now useless collection of junk on a table…just in time to hear the mayor get assassinated.

Chester raised his eyebrows. “I guess that’s what happens when you don’t keep your election promises…”

As the others left, Chester sat down, his stomach growling. “Man…I still haven’t eaten since I surfaced.” He muttered to no one in particular. “Couldn’t the wait staff at least served us before fleeing for their lives?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Chester stood up. “I’m going to go to that coffee shop on the corner of 3rd…critical thinking was never my thing. Get in contact with me if we find out anything about Mime.”

With a casual wave, the former mob hitman walked out the door…his stomach unleashing one more embarrassing growl before he left.

[GARUD]

Garud though for a moment.

"How would the Kitsune be able to get power? Kill you or another high ranking official or something?"

[TheBlindMime]

"Assassinating me would do no good, it would only inspire people to join my cause. The only way any one of those stupid kitsune could gain power is if they had someone to rally around." Like a martyr.

**********

The priest's speech had grown more and more outraged, though it did seem to be costing him his health. The crowd stood in complete silence as he continued a long string of coughs, he looked quite embarrased about the coughing as he pressed a hankerchief to his mouth. As he drew it away it was quite evident there were some remnants of blood upon it. "Now, those filthy furry creatures are out there... They are just down the street. Lets go, lets show them that we wont be taking this kind of outrage towards America, towards our freedom any more!"

A triumphant roar overtook the crowd, they sprinted from the church, their spirits were high and they were all prepared to do something very stupid. Marching down the street they began to call out to their friends and any free human they saw just standing around and they rallied them to their cause. A few police officers were drawn into the crowd.

They approached the kitsune protest with jeers, racial slurs and weapons. Samuel Yamada was quick to move from his group to block the incoming group of hate. "Hold your arms, please don't attack us we meant no disrespect we only wish to be heard."

"Yeah thats what all you gooks say isn't it. First you just wanna be heard then you wanna be better then the rest of us!" A moronic and collective cheer of "yeah!" rang from the crowd.

"No its nothing like that, we merely wish to be equals." Samuel was standing his ground but trying to seem as respectful as he could as well.

"Alright everyone thats enough." A uniformed police officer who had moved into the crowd marched out of it, holding his hands up as a sign of peace. Samuel smiled at even a minor sense of order, he turned to his crowd to insure that with the police officers aid the two crowds would disperse peacefully.

Thats when Samuel felt a gun barrel pressed against the back of his head, a look of shock overtook his face just before he heard the boom of the gun discharging, he felt nothing. The cop smirked as he clicked back the hammer for another shot. The human group charged forward weapons in hand, they began to pummel anyone they could get their hands on. As a wave of confusion overtook the crowd everyone lost sight of the one man who had started this and no one even noticed that a second shot was never fired.

He marched silently back into the church, though his outfit had changed. He was now a man in a black business suit and bowler cap. Moving to the Priests study he found exactly what he was looking for, a priest with a bullet in the brain pan and a police officer hanging from the rafters. The scene was almost complete as he carefully set the pistol on the ground insuring that it looked as if it had been tossed aside. He found the act to be rather enjoyable, he so enjoyed aestetics. With a final tip of his hat he marched out of the room a smile prominantly on his lips.

The mime had made his first move.

***********

Millie found the deli rocco had mentioned quite easily, a long line of zombie was strewn out the door, it seems the owner had just changed his policy to include serving cow and pig brains. Most of the zombies moaned out of annoyance while quite a few others simply enjoyed the act of moaning.