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Carnival Night


Supercape

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GM

 

June 29th, 2013

 

Mayor Santo was a portly man with a bronzed face that was round and lined. He somehow carried off a magnificent smile and a handsome warmth, and had kept a magnificent lock of white hair on his head that made him look like a perfect mayor - approachable, experienced, warm but with authority. 

 

He smoked too many cigars. He drank too much port. He had a reputation with too many ladies. But he was not a corrupt man. That was a bonus. 

 

Yet politics was fierce, and he wanted to keep his job. And it so happened, that with the influx of several benefactors amongst the more successful upper class of RiO, and their businesses, he had the money to do it. Sure, every second float would have sponsorship's plastered all over it, but he had put together a city Carnival that would ignite the city this day. 

 

His younger - too young - some might say, and pretty - too pretty, some might say - wife, Sandra, came up to lean on his shoulder and comfort him from the stress he endured in the midday heat, as he coordinated with police, ambulances, and a thousand other details. 

 

The first signs of music, dancing, and costumes were already hitting the streets, and the smells of street food complimented the sounds and colours. It would be a long day, and a longer night. 

 

"My love my love" he said, patting Sandra affectionately, but - it should be said - patronisingly - "Leave me  to my work. There will be time for fun later. Now! I must concentrate!" he said, with a smile. 

 

Something tickled the edge of his brain. He couldn't put the jigsaw together yet, but as he chomped on a cigar, he had the nagging feeling from various irritations and frustrations, and reports, that something wasn't going quite right...

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Quite frankly Erick enjoyed travelling.  He spent a year doing it after graduating from high school in the first place.  Experiencing new cultures and interacting with the locals was an experience that money couldn't buy.  Helped solely by the fact that he had the money to test that theory out in the first place.  Which made the allure of taking time off to experience the wonder of Carnival first hand a no-brainer.

 

As much enjoyment as could be garnered by crashing mob operations back in Freedom City, and there was certainly quite of bit of enjoyment to be had, sometimes Erick Sloane had to channel the inner the.   Currently, the blonde man found himself wading his way through a crowd of masked wearing participants in the festivities in the hopes of finding a better view of all the celebration.  Any other day of the week being surrounded by a crowd covered head to toe in elaborate masks and costumes would have an entirely different connotation.

 

The thought of which brought a wry smile on Erick's face as he stopped walking and began looking around.  It was settled he was definitely on vacation.

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"Isn't Rio awesome?"  Megan Howell called out loudly over the music and other noise on the crowded street to her companion, Lord Robert Harrow, as she pulled him out with her into the crowd that was dancing.  The stunning young blonde was wearing a short black dress that fit her curves snugly.  Her skin was considerably more tan than normal, but that was not particularly surprising given how she had spent much of the month thus far.

 

First Megan had spent a couple of weeks traveling through Spain and the South of France with two of her old high school friends.  Then, until just yesterday, she had spent a week with Robert on a yacht in the Greek Islands.  For the most part, that week had been a slow and relaxing, allowing her to just enjoy the time with Robert, and for both of them to unwind a bit from the events earlier in the month.  Though they had made a few trips ashore during the trip to take in some nightlife, including a stop at Marmaris, Turkey, part of what was dubbed the "Turkish Rivera," and well known for its nightlife.

 

But as much as she had enjoyed the generally low key and relaxing time in the Aegean, Megan was now looking forward to a much more lively time at the Carnival.  This was actually the young woman's second visit to Rio, having stopped in the city during her around the world trip for New Year's Eve in her superhero identity as Velocity.  After the wild, festive atmosphere at Copacabana Beach, Megan had decided it would be good to visit again during Carnival.  She had little reason to suspect then that when she did return it would be with Robert, as the two had ended their relationship seven months earlier, and had not reconciled until a few months later. 

 

Of course, Megan could not be happier than to be here with Robert.

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Tyrone grinned. Rio stretched out before him as he exited the airport. This would be a fantastic vacation. He adjusted the knapsack on his back, containing the suit. He wore something light that would help keep the sweat off. He knew that Rio in June would be stifling, and came prepared.

 

He had several things on his mind to do, take in the sights, sounds and tastes. He'd brought the suit along just in case, and because it was basically a pet that he trusted only himself to care for.

 

Last time he'd been to Brazil, he'd come with his family. Now that he was alone, he could experience it on his own. He looked forward to the festivities.

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GM

 

Mid afternoon...

 

The Streets were alive with music, dancing, and parades. And this was only the beginning. This night would last long, with the parties extending to the morning. Whatever noise pollution laws existed where either being ignored or had been suspended. 

 

It was not lawless, however, far from it, the police were out in full force, although they were enjoying themselves too, mingling rather than oppressing. Spirits were good rather than foul, and despite the preponderance of alcohol - and, no doubt, other intoxicants - crime was low. Pickpocketing, brawls, etc. 

 

But, accidents will happen...

 

Accidents of all sorts! 

 

By Tyrone

 

A Latin Band beat up an exceptional beat besides Tyrone, and the crowd, jostling around him exploded into cheers. It was none other than the famous singer Luiza Lego, a woman in her fifties who had lost little of her looks, and none of her charm or voice. A complex and irresistible rhythm belted through Tyrone. And he was surrounded by dancing crowds. He couldn't understand the lyrics to the song, but he had the inclination they were rather saucy, as the ladies who wore some sparkly nothings around him gave a particular cheer and wiggle at certain phrases. 

 

One such lady, whose face was obscured by an elaborate feathered gold mask, and whose body was obscured by little more than some paint, string, and ton of confidence, started dancing up to Tyrone. She was full of life but not seductive, just joyous. 

 

"Heya!" she smiled "Join in the party, Americano!" she laughed, guessing, correctly, Tyrone was from out of time. 

 

"I love Luiza!" she yelled to him over the music and cheers. "Will you dance with me?" she asked, flashing him a grin...

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GM

 

Meanwhile

 

Robert was accosted by a lady in a swishing rainbow robe and goat mask which revealed more bronzed flesh than one would find acceptable outside of a Carnival or a Beach. She bumped into him, smiled, and gave him a peck on the cheek before swishing off to the beat of some steel drums in a matter of moments, lost amidst the jostle of dancers and revellers that crowded them left right and centre. 

 

"My, these ladies do like to err...display their wares, don't they..." said Robert, pulling at his shirt collar and smiling. Despite the heat of the afternoon, he was still wearing a cotton shirt and trousers, and brown shoes, looking like an Englishman in the days of the Raj. 

 

He gave Megan a smile. 

 

"Of course, I only have eyes for you dear..." he said returning his eyes and gaze to his girlfriend and attempting to copy her dance steps, with limited success - although not, it must be said, without success at all. 

 

"I fancy one of those, I'm parched in this heat..." he complained, spying a street stall selling lemonade. reaching into his back pocket. 

 

"Oh dear..." he muttered. "Did I leave my wallet back at the hotel...?" he asked patting all his pockets to no avail...

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GM

 

Meanwhile, by Erik...

 

A modern electronic band was playing by Erik, blasting out music that was alternately sublime and awful, and was accordingly accompanied by enthusiastic cheers and muted cheers, 

 

Even in a party, Erik had a detective's nose. There was something about the bar he passed, "El Rosa", with its chipped painted wood and smokey interior that looked suspicious. 

 

He caught sight of a woman dressed rather more fully than others, in a floral dress and scalf, and rather macabre death mask on. She was a deep, luxurious dark skinned beauty, with enveloping holes for eyes and a magnificent black mane of hair. Even with the skull mask, she looked intoxicating and attractive, demure and confident all at once. 

 

She swayed up to him, and whispered in his ear. 

 

"Sir, don't put your gaze in there. It is only for the dead and the killers" she said in faltering English. "I should know...I broke my heart in there..."

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Erick gave the woman a quick once over.  Re-establishing the fact that it was certainly good to be in Rio.  He made no effort to push her away as he pursed his lips to respond.  "It sounds as if there's more to that story than just the ending.  If you don't mind sharing that is.  I'll admit I much prefer the company of a beautiful woman to that of a den of the dead and what was it killers?"  Although, Erick wasn't entirely positive in the veracity of his statement considering how many nights he shared with killers.  Not that they found themselves enjoying his company.

 

He would keep a wary eye on the bar as he spoke.  The warning having the opposite effect than what he perceived the woman had expected.  Erick's curiosity would not be so easily deterred.  How bad could it really be?  A small chuckle slipping forth as his imagination ran wild to answer.  "Of course, I would still like to hear what it is you know about such an establishment.  Before I can even consider setting my gaze on much more productive locations."  His head turning ever so slightly to examine the mask adorned upon her face.

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GM

 

"You can call me Isabella" purred the woman, who was somehow warm and cold at the same time. 

 

And..crying. 

 

"I am an artist, Senor. I do not make much money, but I am good artist. My husband, beautiful man as he was, was not happy with us  being poor. He worked for the Rosa gang. You have not heard of them, from America, I guess. The Rosa gang have fingers in every street, and higher. Gambling and Prostitution are their food. And they make mucho moolah on Carnival day. They smile like everybody else, but for different reasons, you understand? Dont cross them, or they make you smile all the time..."

 

She indicated a slice across from cheek to cheek. 

 

"They killed my husband in there. Much as a like to kill them, they have my sister, who..works for them..." she spat and looked inside La Rosa Club. 

 

"Senor, I tell you this to warn you. Enjoy Carnival, do not think of the sad faces today..."

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"Cross them.  I would never think of doing something so bold.  I'm simply an ignorant American on vacation.  Unfortunately, I seem to lack intelligence proportional to the weight of my wallet.  So I might just have to lighten the load a tad to learn my lesson." 

 

To start with, Erick already had a bit of a weakness for crying women.  Coupled with Isabella's tale of loss, the man's decision had long been made for him.  He was the last person to ever dispute the importance of family.  A normal person would have far different tastes for their vacation plans.  But it wasn't as if the festivities of Carnival were going anywhere if he took a side trip.

 

"Do not worry for me.  I promise not to add to the sad faces in the crowd tonight.  Who knows maybe I'll even bring back a lost smile.  I thank you for your warning.  Everything will be alright...oh before I forget.  I'm sorry for your loss."

 

Stepping forward he would begin to make way for the questionable looking bar.  It had been a few hours since he had gotten in a bit of trouble.  Seemed about a good a time as any to remedy that.

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GM

 

La Rosa Club

 

Whilst smoky and dingy, the club Rosa was not as dingy as one might have expected. There was a dangerous looking man with a face that spoke a history of fights on the door, who gave Erik the once over when he entered, but not in an intimidating way. 

 

Inside, a group of men, mainly middle aged but varying from young to old, where playing cards on two tables, to the tune of drinks and music. 

 

A particularly tall barman with particularly black and long eyebrows gave Erik a raise of his facial specialities when he entered, and a brief phrase of Porteguese. 

 

"English? American?" he asked. "Come for a drink or a bit of fire with the cards?" he asked with a face made of stone and eyes watching the street outside to check nobody else was watching. 

 

"No worries in here, Senor. As long as you not with the police. We welcome lawyers though" he said, with a deadpan humour. "Anyone with a fat purse and money to lose is welcome to lose it at El Rosa!" he said, slamming down a cold beer in front of Erik without asking for money. 

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Portugese was outside of Erick's wheelhouse.  Perhaps if he didn't think the concept of elective requirements to be a joke, he might have considered taking up a foreign language course at FCU.  It didn't soften the fact that a lack of knowledge in a subject was a missed opportunity for yet another weapon.  

 

It could have been his blonde somewhat all American, despite his Russian background.  Or perhaps it was the way he strolled in when anyone with common sense would have high tailed it the other direction.  But whatever the case, Erick made no question of the bartender guessing his nationality.  If anything it was probably lip service if the operation really did have roots on the streets a rich American tourist had to have been noticed from the moment he got off the plane.  "American actually.  We have a saying back home.  The house always wins.  But I certainly have the purse to test that theory out.  Just don't blame me if your patrons end up making my purse all the fatter."  Erick quipped towards the large man laughing as he finished speaking.

 

The blonde took the beer without a moment's hesitation.  It'd be paid for by the end of the night.  It was the last place in all of Rio that he would consider consuming alcohol.  But it was also the last place in all of Rio that he would turn down a drink either.  Not to mention alcohol ruins one technique.  However, the cocky tourist in over his head routine would only go so far.  He would have to get dealt into the tables housing the cards.  It was about to become a long night for those in El Rosa.  The young man would personally see to that.  Well, let's see who's feeling talkative.

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GM

 

La Rosa Club

 

There were three men on the table Erick took. Two middle aged men, both portly, and a younger man, heavy set and with a scar down one side of his face. A victim of a knife fight, Erick would guess, although the man certainly didn't look like a victim. He was big, strong, and fast. And his two partners seemed to not really want to be there. They actually breather a sigh of relief when Erick sat down. 

 

"So Americano...we play Poker classic. Five cards..." he said with a sharks grin that exposed two golden teeth. 

 

"I take your money" he laughed, and took a swig of beer...before dealing out, rapid style, a hand for everybody. From the looks of it, the man had already all but cleaned out his two partners. 

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Megan smirked slightly at Robert's reply after the lady in the rainbow robe and goat mask had left.  "You know, I have half a suitcase full of bikinis back at the hotel.  Maybe we should go back and I could change…"

 

The blonde young woman then focused back on dancing, smiling at Robert, more than happy with his willingness to do his best to keep up with her.  But when he mentioned getting a drink and then could not locate his wallet, a frown came to her face as she glanced back in the direction the rainbow clad woman had gone.

 

"No, you had it on you."  She stated.  "Wait here, I will be right back."

 

With that, Megan seemed to effectively vanish, as she began moving at hypersonic speed, vibrating her body's molecules to allow her to pass through the crowd and surrounding buildings, as if they were nothing more than smoke.  Moving at thousands of miles per hour, Megan was able to search a large area of the crowd and buildings nearby for a sign of the woman.  As she went the young blonde saw thousands of people dancing in the streets, something she would much rather be doing right now.

 

While passing through a rather seedy looking bar, she spotted a familiar face, Erick Sloane, though why he was in a place like that was something of a mystery to her.  While she might normally try to head that way to say hello later, she rather doubted that bar was anywhere she wanted to go with Robert.

 

Then, she spotted the rainbow clad pickpocket. 

 

Coming to a halt in front of the woman, and thus seeming to appear out of thin air, the blonde fixed a stern gaze on the other woman.  "So, are you going to return my boyfriend's wallet?  Or shall I send you to the hospital and get it back anyway?"

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GM

 

In the middle of the carnival...

 

The rainbow clad dancer laughed at Megan. It was not a nasty laugh, or even one of contempt. It was more one of joy, and drunken joy at that, although Megan could smell no alcohol on her. 

 

"This old thing?" she asked, showing Megan Roberts Wallet and tossing it to Megan. 

 

"Darling, you shouldn't be in a man's pocket! take his money and run, flee, dance!" she giggled. "Tonight, on Carnival Night, we shall all be free! wild and free!" she laughed, throwing her head and her arms to the sky and twirling in a spin. 

 

"I have lived my life on the street, stealing, running, a sad life, but tonight, I feel wonderful! Can you not feel it, something in the air?" she sighed. 

 

"Ah, sister, dance the night away and spend all of your man's money! you deserve it!" she smiled through her mask. 

 

"I only take to give! and there is plenty more taking and giving to do tonight!" she proclaimed. 

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"Five card sounds perfect.  Try not to take too much of money now.  I still have to pay for my beer."  

 

Repetition in poker, whether through winning or losing, could be considered a skill all on its own.  If you could control a table to take three hands in a row without question you have some semblance of talent.  Even if the reason you controlled the game was through cheating.  The real test of skill was avoiding complacency from setting in.  If you don't allow for a few moments of the unexpected and even daresay lose some it was inevitably going to bite you back.  No matter how respectful your skill, there was always going to be someone hungrier waiting for the opportunity to take your money.  You always had to account for unexpected variables.  

 

It was a lesson the predatory man would no doubt have already taken to heart had he learned to play poker from a man who could see into the future.  No, he had the luxury of taking advantage of unsuspecting and inexperienced players.  Which made the heavy set man think he was king of the mountain.  It was that sense of complacency that allowed Erick to easily catch on to the man's cheating by the first hand.  The heavy set man had a preference for bottom dealing.  Handing the other players the bottom of the deck and pocketing the top for when he needed a better hand.   Equally impressive was the fact that he was doing it so quickly, which no doubt made it easier to get sloppy.  

 

It was good enough to get the job done from anyone unfortunate to play a hand at the table.  If only he was sitting across the table from any other 'Americano' tonight.  Erick conceded the early hands of the games.  Letting the heavy set man think that his ploy was just as effective on him as the others whom couldn't afford to continue.  In reality, Erick was using the opportunity to try and keep track of the cards so that when it was his turn he could turn it all around.  And slip in some small talk to make them all the more comfortable with him.

 

The blonde man's hands thumbed the cards for a moment when they were handed to him.  Obviously the momentum was against him due to the sheer amount of sacrificial hands he undertook in the course of the game to get to the most ideal point.  The rest of the table assumed he was simply walking to his own execution.  It made it all the easier for Erick to perform a false shuffle so that the cards would line up exactly how he wanted them to.  With the scarred man thinking he had a straight flush if he pulled out the king he had pocketed in his right sleeve.  Of course he would, especially after Erick went all in.  The thing was, Erick had pocketed his own king.  Erick's just happened to complete a Royal Flush.  You always have to account for unknown variables.

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Meanwhile, Tyrone danced. He kept an eye out for pickpockets and such, knowing that a distracted American tourist would be the perfect victim. It wasn't often that a beautiful and underdressed woman approached him to dance, and he certainly couldn't deny her, or himself her company. His dance moves left something to be desired, but it wasn't as if he was completely awkward and useless. If nothing else, his enthusiasm and charm made him better than a laughingstock.

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Megan caught the thrown wallet easily out of the air, after all, it seemed to be moving in slow motion to her, as she regarded the rainbow clad woman’s strange behavior.  Taking a quick moment to flip the wallet open and check its contents, the young woman then looked back at the pickpocket.

 

"I would hardly say I am in anyone's pocket."  She replied back, her tone now more neutral.  "But I fully plan to dance the night away with my boyfriend and thoroughly enjoy myself."

 

Megan then frowned slightly as the other woman mentioned more giving and taking for the night, but was not exactly in a position to try and do anything about it.  Letting out a small sigh, she gave the other woman a small smile.  "Well, sounds like you have a full night planned then.  You'll understand if I don't want to see you again tonight."

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GM

 

La Rosa Club...

 

"Read them em and weep, Americano" said the stone faced man facing Erick, slowly and deliberately splaying his five cards of straight flush, giving Erick a slow, methodical grin. 

 

"I think Americano's shirt and watch are very nice, if Americano wants to pay for beer. Or Americano can leave teeth on table" he grinned, enjoying the torture he thought he was inflicting. 

 

He was about to grab all the money on the table - a considerable volume, it must be said, when Erick retorted with his superior Royal Flush. 

 

"Caramba! No way! No way that happen! You cheating, Americano! You dirty, lousy, cheating, Americano-pig! I gut you like a pig!" he screamed, and pulled a flick-knife from his jeans. 

 

With alarming speed, he slammed the knife into the table, where Erick's hand was - or at least, used to be, if Ericks wits and reflexes had not deprived him of the impaling victory. 

 

The knife was wedged in tight to the table, but the Brazillian did not pause to stop, with ferocity, speed, and skill, he launched himself at Erick...

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Wasting little time, them blonde would pick himself up and leap into action.  Hoping to end the stirred commotion quickly he threw an errant jab only to make contact with air.  It seemed as if the stoned face man wasn't inexperienced with his share of scuffles with the ease he managed to avoid Erick's pugilistic effort.  Considering the dive's policy for law enforcement, Erick didn't expect that the police would come in to break up the brawl.  In fact, he would wager that chances were this was a common sight for the boozehounds around here.  "Has anyone ever told you that you're a sore loser?  And here I was nice enough to not even raise a complaint about how long you sat with that ace in your pocket."

 

It seemed as if Erick's hopes about ending the commotion as quickly as it started were a moot endeavor.  The man was clearly fuming.  A notion which suited the acrobatic gymnast all the better.  This was a rare situation in which standing out a little would give him a bit more leeway to act in his pursuit of this Rosa gang.

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GM

 

"I'm not the one who will be sore, Americano!" hissed the killer. "I am Espinho, the Thorn. I killed more men than you have have had women, Americano. You walked into the wrong bar. This is La Rosa!" he roared. 

 

"I feed you your teeth. Through the wrong hole!" he smiled, as he leapt for the man. He was fast and strong, and Erick could tell he was trained in Brazilian Ju Jitsu, and a dirty street form at that. The man slapped Erick in the head and moved in to take him down, but was a fraction to slow. For all his speed, he was facing someone who was even faster and quicker than he was. Something he was not used to. 

 

"Aye, you snake, quick!" he said, a trace of uncertainty in his voice, but not losing his rage. 

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Erick wasn't an educated martial artist first and foremost.  He certainly knew his way around a brawl.  But the blonde man, was an acrobat before all else.  Stepping forward and using the table as a launching pad Erick would take to the air.  Somersaulting over the stoned face man in the hopes of forcing an opening by misleading him.  As graceful as Erick's motions were, they didn't quite provide the room for the stoned face man to lose track of his movements.  Which as a performer he couldn't help but take to heart.

 

What his movements did provide where an ample angle to essentially donkey kick the man towards the table.  Smashing his head down with the force to really try and sell home the point that the thug might be biting off more than he could chew this time.    While Erick wasn't sure how much force the table could take, Espinho just became far more acquainted with that knowledge at least.  "Snakes are beautiful creatures and all, don't get me wrong.  But I don't particularly care for slithering.  I tend to fly.  Not that a thorn stuck into the ground could quite get that."  Even out of uniform, Erick was a talker.  

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GM

 

Esphino sank to the table. He was made of strong stuff, but he was getting creamed, and he knew it. Somehow it made him all the more angry. 

 

"Those tricks and jumps of yours wont work on me!" he said, obviously incorrect. 

 

"Once I get my hand's on you, I'll make sure you won't forget my name, Americano. I'll carve it into your chest! I swear it!" he said, shaking his fist as his body slid off the table and his eyes glazed. By force of will, he pushed himself to his feet and retook a fighting stance, taking several steps back, and knocking over the other table with its cards and money. 

 

By now, all the other patrons had backed off. Normally knocking over a game of cards would be a serious offence, but Espinho had clearly earned a fearsome reputation. All were silent. All were still. 

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Erick gave an unimpressed look to the mobster.  He was imposing sure enough, but he wasn't going to get the opportunity to live out his demented fantasy.  Thrusting his right hand forward, Erick would connect with a blow to  the man's jugular.  Quick to capitalize, Erick would grab Espinho by the back of his head while he was crouching forward in pain.  In that instant bringing the thug's skull towards his knee, forcing the collision with as much strength as his frame could manage.  Tossing Espinho aside as he blacked out.  No longer concerned with the heavy set man.  Well I suppose dragging him to the cops is a job better left to a guy wearing mask.

 

Not saying a word, Erick would walk back over to his still upright table of cards to collect his winnings.   Making sure to cut into the silence in the room the tourist would begin to call out.  "So, I believe I said I would pay for my beer by the end of the night?" He was starting to get a good enough understanding of how La Rossa operated.  And even though he wasn't sure where to begin in tracking down Isabella's sister, it was progress.

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GM

 

Isabella stood by the door, catching the sunlight in a way that framed her as a shadow. Somewhat eerie, given her skull mask. 

 

"You are brave and lucky, American. The Thorn has killed many men, for less..." she said, staring at the unconscious killer on the floor. 

 

From the depths of her gown she pulled a small snub nosed gun, a tiny concealed weapon, no good for more than two shots, at close range. 

 

"And now, American, I get my revenge!" she said, striding into the bar full of confidence, before addressing the crowd. 

 

"You hear this, Rosa scum! No more will you trade women on the street! No more! Today, and tomorrow, and forever, the streets 

will belong to us! to us!" she screamed, full of fury. 

 

"And this is for my sister!" she added, putting the gun to Espihno's head....

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