Blood Bolt Gang Meet
Summer 2021, Week 2
Monday evening
Henry, The Wards
Storyteller
The New Victoria Police Department have an increased presence in the slum-like neighborhood of Henry. There has been a slight lull in reported criminal activity since this rise in presence, but many believe it is currently simmering under the surface. The Police are on the streets searching for any sign of Blood Bolt or his gang.Blood Bolt
An arc of red lightning jumped between his fingers as he watched with a thin smile at the power he could command on a whim. Distantly, he registered the voices talking in the room, and paid them little mind. Let the heavies argue about details. The plastic table he sat behind was covered in single rounds of ammo, a few guns, and some papers. The room was filled with the top dogs from the 6SS, or Sixes as he called them. So much easier to say than that dumbass name they stuck me with. Pfft, Sparks? What the fuck. Lack of creativity, the lot of them. His focus on the trailing light was cut off as a heavy hand landed on the desk in front of him. With a pop the sustained arc of energy cut off as his focus was washed away, and he looked up with a growing snarl at the person who would dare interrupt him. And...it was Greg. Fucking--damnit Greg. The mountain man didn't say a word, but just stared back at his boss. The entire room was quiet, filled with his top echelon or with throw away cellphones on speaker placed about. A few of them here were Evos, others were petty criminals. But all of them, roughly a group of 11 and a guest, waited. Sighing, he slapped his hands on the table and stood up. "I suppose you're all wondering why I've gathered you here." He internally chuckled at that given they had demanded--fucking demanded--a meeting and forced him to be here. "And I'll skip the bullshit and get straight to my villain monolog where I tell you all about how I want to destroy the city and cause panic. Oh, yes, my friends, the fires we will start and buildings we will burn." Waving his arms as he paced back and forth behind the desk, Bolt paused to look at the group and saw--sadly--only a few of them were shocked. Damnit, some of these fuckers have been with me for too long. I need a new set of tricks. The smile, and attempt at having any sort of fun, vanishing, he stopped and reset. When he did, the few who hadn't reacted to his joking seemed to subconsciously take a step back or stand straighter, and when Bolt spoke this time there was no joviality to it. "I'm sitting in a rundown apartment building behind a plastic desk, when I have the power to channel a fucking car battery through my fingertips like I'm wiping my ass. Safe to say my situation in life doesn't sit well with me, gents." Red lights danced across his body as if in demonstration. "I want to change that situation. For me, for you, for everyone wearing the colors. But change takes action, understand? Now we could go to every drug lord, racketeer, etc. in the city one by one and sway them under us, deal with the back-and-forth betrayals and hunt down hemorrhaging money when they try to steal it from us. That is a path we could go, definitely." The lights in the room flickered as blue arcs started leaping from sockets towards Bolts body when he walked past an outlet. "Or, maybe instead, we cause a little mischief." Wiggling his fingers in Greg’s face with a smile he started hopping between the group of towering men. "Get our names in the news. Have the media run pictures of this hot piece of ass called Bolt, stuck with only a photo from years ago--god I looked good back then, and make Evos in general the focus, hmm?" "Have you noticed? Evo's attack Police. Evo's start a fire. Evos Evos Evos. Evos Everywhere! Already we're getting the city asking questions about how good their plans are. How safe it is to make a team of Evos to assist the police. A wrench has been tossed kiddos, straight into the engine of the AERI program and all we have to do is twist it to make sure it dies, ridding ourselves of the only potential threat we have. Then, we get the entire city of millions to look and focus on the threats of the Evo's who work in their coffee shops, who staple their papers, while we get all the name recognition we need to walk into the park, stroll into the docks, waltz into the field and demand that every wannabe underworld prince kisses the ring." Turning on his heel to face the group, hands splayed out in a messianic pose with a tilt of his head, Bolt asked, "How’s that sound, boys? Sound good to you?" The nods and smirks served as a good response to his question. Nodding along with them for a few seconds before letting the smile die on his lips and finishing with a "Well then get fucking to it!" Bolt watched as the men filed out, all except loyal Greg. And the guest "How was that." Lucius Hawke asked the man smoking a cigarette in the corner of the room. His more flamboyant persona stowed away for the more serious conversation. "It'll do." A cherry tip light up the darkness before it was obscured by a hazy cloud of grey smoke. Lucius traced his fingers over one of the guns, his eyes focused on the direction of the guest, unwilling to look away. "So, we're good, right? He'll let me be?" "He'll let you wear a crown and call yourself the Prince of Victoria if that's what you want." Suddenly the man was behind Lucius, reaching around to set a briefcase on the table. The smell of smoke mixed with the scent of cologne, as the west coast accented voice almost whispered into his ear. "Just be sure you remember who the King is. There's the money. Make sure it's a show or the plan won't work." "I got it." "And Lucius." "...Yes." "Don't fuck it up." And then it was just Greg, the man who never said anything, standing there as his hand trembled on the grip of his gun.
Type
Record, Historical
Medium
Digital Recording, Text
Authoring Date
June 28, 2021
Authors
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