Ooc: sorry guys I’ve been off and will continue to be for a few days 

Am away and without Internet

rykerthewolf:

Kemp?

He’s not really the aggressive type. At all. Pretty submissive. As for who he is running with, it can be a little hard to gauge. You know, being a reject trying to hang with the gang sort. And submissive? Harder to find a niche. Could ask around though. Or him.

Really? Him? He’s submissive?

Every time I’ve met him he’s tried to show me he’s boss. It doesn’t work, he looks more like a puppy than anything else, but that’s surprising.
Ask around, see what you can find out.

He’s been trying to prove himself to you? Wow love to see him trying to act tough! Way to go little man…!

Will be sure to do then

rykerthewolf:

What would you know about Kemp, a hyena reject? He told me he had some past dealings with a gang and he refused to be our runner.

The kid was hiding something from me.

Kemp?

He’s not really the aggressive type. At all. Pretty submissive. As for who he is running with, it can be a little hard to gauge. You know, being a reject trying to hang with the gang sort. And submissive? Harder to find a niche. Could ask around though. Or him.

rykerthewolf:

Eh, I needed to have my jacket pressed.

Lucky indeed, I just had this cleaned. -takes seat- Then what is on the agenda?

Sure you did.

Today was actually just going to be a boring paperwork kind of day. Bills that need to be paid, that sort of fun stuff.
Though, on the other hand, I do have some questions for you. You’ve been around this area for a long time, right? You know most the people?

Long enough, I guess. And I don’t have a very strict set of clientele, so yeah, I’d say I do. Wide enough of a variety.

rykerthewolf:

theprotectivelionman:

Alright, Ryker, who’s heads am I being paid to smash around today?

Or is this merely a social visit and I just need to look nasty?

You’re ten minutes late.

But never mind. Luckily we don’t have any heads to smash in. Today. I can’t tell you for sure what tomorrow will bring.

Eh, I needed to have my jacket pressed.

Lucky indeed, I just had this cleaned. -takes seat- Then what is on the agenda?

Alright, Ryker, who’s heads am I being paid to smash around today?

Or is this merely a social visit and I just need to look nasty?

theprotectivelionman:

Damn.He really couldn’t tell her anything. The rat gave a shrug and jabbed a thumb back in the direction the pair had just come from. “I left them down under the Wreckage. Didn’t think to grab them.” They were a few miles downtown, too out of the way when she had been following him earlier. She could get them in about twenty minutes, ten if Cross agreed to head down with her. She was doubtful he was.

“I counted the other day, there’s sixty-seven of them, and eleven empty ones. Does that number seem significant to you?” It did to her. Usually, samples were taken in neat numbers. Fifty, or one hundred, or even one thousand. But unless twenty-two of the vials had gone missing—a  bit too unlikely, considering she found them in a closed bag—it was a strange number.

“Right,” it was a shame she hadn’t. For all they knew the someone who had dumped them had recollected them to cover their tracks. Then again, if they had gone to the effort to dump them, maybe they weren’t even needed. But vials of blood? They should go get them. Ugh, he just though ‘they’. No, before Cross does anything he needs to put away his groceries. Last time he lost his food. Maybe she could go grab them while he made a few contact calls … No he probably would end up opting to go with her. Of course she could handle herself in the sewers, but this was so odd.

“Not the number itself, but the fact that they’re so small is significant. It means that someone is trying to stay below the radar. Or was. It is weird that these have been left out. What needs to be considered is age — how long they have been out there, whose (or what’s) blood it is, and why someone has been so careless? Or is it carelessness?” Cross pursed his lips. “You intending on going back for them?”

theprotectivelionman:

“Under fifth, but they’re no doubt from the asylum. They had markings and everything.” Sawyer considered heading down to get them for Cross, but she could tell him just as much as he’d be able to figure out on his own, and vice versa. “I can’t tell if it’s hybrid blood or not, but it’s definitely not normal for anyone to go dumping it down there. Scalpels? Bodies? Sure, but never vials of blood, and never so carelessly.”

She had heard a good few rumours herself. One in particular stood out: Belwood was still in Knight City, working on his next generation of experiments. Sawyer did not pity her existence. In fact, she reveled in it. But she didn’t want more rejects, more Mad, more pathetic bodies unfit to remain alive. It was a nuisance, and she had a hard enough time finding proper food as it was. She didn’t need new competition, much less those stupid enough to think they could fight her. 

He listened, thinking carefully about what she was saying. “That is interesting.” It would not normally be difficult to find discarded leftovers of the asylum’s questionable conduct, but not blood. Tools grew dull or would be contaminated and therefore would be thrown out, bodies would become obsolete, blood, on the other hand. Was evidence. DNA. Curious. “And I am fresh out of DNA analyzers.”

Cross had heard about further experimentation, most people have who worked in their line of work, and every now and then he would come across little hints of evidence. The presence of vials with blood, however, was a little more proof than he was perhaps comfortable with. “I take it that it’s safe to presume you do not have them on you?”

theprotectivelionman:

“What? i am not allowed to visit my shirtless friends every now and then?” Tash asked and raised her eyebrow, not even trying to hide her gaze at him, it was not necessary. “now that if you want me to go so you can dress up in peace, i dont mind” Once more, Tash smirked pointing at the door, and turning around about to leave, even if clearly she didn’t have the slightness plan of doing so.

Without ask, Tash placed a hand over his chest and pushed him away slightly, not being aggressive though, just hard enough for him to get the hint. Afterwards she walked in looking around and took a sit on his couch, staring up at him “no, i don’t want anything at all. I just had free time, and as i said, it’s been a while”

Cross scoffed at her teasing, and stepped away as her light push silently requested. He trusted her well enough within his apartment. “Right, right,” he grabbed a nearby wifebeater. No need to suit up. He shut the door behind her once she had entered. He slipped on the shirt as he turned back toward her and made a seat across the couch.

“Yes, I suppose it has been a while.” Aside from the times when business required their paths to cross, he could not recall the last time they spent time in a remotely casual manner with one another. “How have you been? And the shop?” He paused. “You want a drink?”

theprotectivelionman:

Natasha woke up very early that day, something unusual for her. With her shop, and what she got from the bets, there was nothing much that she had to worry about, or that kept her awake that early. Although, for a strange reason she felt like going to pay  a somewhat social visit, for pure pleasure. And even more strange, that visit was not for Thomas.

Tash, as always, tried her best to look good. She never knew when her appearance could bring her benefits, especially from people like Cross, whom as far as she knew could do pretty much everything she wanted him to, as long as she was specific. Exactly the kind of people that Tash tried to keep on her good side. With a eternal almost genuine smile on her face, Tash knocked at the man’s door, hopping that he was already awake. If it was not that early, she was not going to be able to visit him again, at least not in a while. And it was not a chance she was willing to waste just like that.

“Hello sir, it has been a while” She replied at the man who opened the door, smiling even more at the sight.

“Tash,” he took a moment to remind himself it was not ‘Natasha’. “Can’t say I was expecting you.” Cross pocketed his gun. “Would have dressed up,” he teased referring to his shirtless state. He noted that she seemed to be alone, or at least not in pursuit. She would have hinted that she needed help immediately (and even then she usually is able to handle herself). 

Not quite stepping back, he looked down at her and asked as he clapped his hands together, “What can I do for you?”