[center][h1]Dean Walker, Shayton, & Maggy Rose[/h1][/center] The night before… After Judas’ death. Screw this. After the chaos picked up and she didn’t hear anything from Shayton, or anyone else, she did the only thing she knew best and hauled ass out of this raggy-ass alleyway. She kept running, even long after she couldn’t hear anything… trying to make a break for her bike was a fool’s errand, and she would rather just carjack someone. Though, the buses were still running. Eventually, Maggy stopped to catch her breath, kneeling, and just started walking after a sigh. Might as well just catch the bus… A gust of wind came behind her, and Maggy turned around and saw Shayton standing there with his hands behind his back. “Oh…” Maggy sighed. “... It’s you.” “Judas is dead,” Shayton flatly said as he took a few steps forward. And Maggy stared at him for a few moments before she asked, “... Did you kill him?” “Yes,” “... Why am I not surprised,” Maggy answered before she walked over to Shayton and jammed a finger in his chest. “Well, I don’t know if [i]you know,[/i] but that means that control of the Wolfpack falls into that dickhead Valjean, and I don’t care [i]how much[/i] your fucking bosses are paying; I’m not working for him.” “Hmmm…” Shayton trailed off. “... I believe we can work something out.” “You fucking better! Where the fuck is Cyril?” “Dead. Or wishing he was. He got pulled into who-knows-where by an Apparition after killing one of them.” “... The Sycamore-something? Whatever that one asshole said,” Shayton nodded his head. “Well, damn it!” Maggy said, “There goes your boss's plans. Whoop-de-doo.” Shayton raised a hand. “Relax,” He started, “We didn’t account for any of this, but we have a backup plan.” “You better,” Maggy said as she turned away and started walking, “Otherwise, I’m [i]out.[/i]” “... And where will you go?” Shayton asked, tilting his head slightly, and it was enough to make Maggy stop. Shayton took some slow steps towards her as he continued, “Before the Wolfpack, before Judas, you were basically a sex slave. He busted you out and offered you a spot in his pack… only for you to conspire against him the first time someone presents an offer.” “I didn’t conspire against Judas! I only agreed to keep an eye on him like you asked! Two sources of income!” Maggy said as she turned around. “... And if he did something my bosses deemed to be… [i]problematic,[/i] I would have killed him, so tell me how that isn’t conspiring against someone?” “Your fucking point, Shayton?!” Maggy shouted. “My point? I’ve been doing this for a [b][i]very[/i][/b] long time… probably longer than you’ve even been alive. And I can tell you a few things, a few important things,” Shayton responded as he got into Maggy’s face with a stony face. “I can tell you care about your position and status more than you care about the lifestyle or the group. The other gangs? They won’t treat you like an equal as Judas did, and you know this. At best, you’ll just be a glorified groupie, and how long is it until they hook you on drugs again? Even if they [i]do[/i] treat you like them, do you think another gig will pay like this? You’ll roll with them for a little bit, and how long is it before you’re selling yourself again-” Shayton was interrupted by a curt and sharp slap, hard enough to launch his sunglasses off his face. Maggy had put a finger in his face. “... That part of my life is [i]over,[/i]” Maggy said. Shayton remained stonyfaced. “... I’ll pretend that never happened.” In the blink of an eye, he had his sunglasses back in his hands, followed by a sharp whip of the wind as proof he had even done anything in the first place. He put his sunglasses back on his face and said, “Look, just play along, and you’ll be rewarded,” Maggy sighed. “Fine… what do we do from here?” “Find Dean,” Shayton said, “I need to have a word with him.” [hr] Dean’s Apartment Dean had been at his desk in his office, balancing the accounts he needed to figure out and fast. The clock ticked down, until he’d be in crippling pain. After an hour, he felt the ache in his joints. He had another hour before he was in pain. He was close to figuring out who was skimming money off the top of drug sales. He’d narrowed it down to two people: a kid and an ex-convict. He would have to finish his investigation tomorrow. He looked at the clock. Or later today. It was after midnight. He’ll have to deal with the side-effects of his abstraction for about fifteen hours. He thinks he calculated the correct amount of minutes he used his power for. He needed a drink. He got up from his desk and limped his way to his kitchen. It’s been cleaner, since he stopped having Tayla around. His home used to be full of the men and women he whored her out to. He hated having to clean up and forcing her to do it was a pain in the ass. She was looped out most of the time. Could barely stand, let alone do anything coordinated. He kinda missed her. Or rather, missed owning her. He stood at his freezer getting ice cubes from the box, when he turned his head… to see Shayton standing there, holding two glasses of what seemed to be iced tea over ice with some straws coming out, and a lemon slice on the rim. Shayton did not make any noise as he entered… just like he just appeared out of thin air. He jumped back into his fridge. The corner dug into his shoulder. “Ah, fuck! What the hell, Shayton?” He can’t remember him ever being in his home. He set his glass down on the counter. What he wanted, he hoped he made it quick. He’s got about an hour left on the clock and he didn’t trust any of the Wolfpack to be around him when he was vulnerable. “Sorry for surprising you,” Shayton calmly said as he presented one glass of iced tea to Dean, and continued. “Want a glass? We need to talk real fast… it’s important.” “Thanks. What we need to talk about?” Dean took the glass and set it on the counter. He grabbed his rum out of a lower cabinet and poured a little into the tea. “You want some?” “I’m good, I don’t drink,” Shayton said as he stepped off to the side and took a nice little sip before dropping the bomb on Dean. “Judas is dead… the PRA killed him.” “Well, fuck.” Dean didn’t know how to take that news. He’s known Judas a long time. He didn’t think it was possible for the man to die. Not with how powerful he is and what he got up to for the pack’s benefit. Guess not even he’s a match for the feds. He’s seen many die in this space, but he never felt anything for them. He’ll have to cry one out for Judas when all this was done. “But, that leaves us… well, primarily you and the leftover Wolfpack, with two big problems,” Shayton calmly said, before he tilted his head slightly. “... You got your Abstraction from Judas, right?” “Yeah. What about it?” “Let me paint a picture for you…” Shayton trailed off, pausing to take a sip. “Judas was cunning… smart even… but before all this, he was just a pusher. All of you were. He never would have seen the notoriety that he has now. Then… one day, he comes out of nowhere with several powerful abstractions and just hands them out like candy. But here’s the thing, these types of abilities don’t just come from [i]anywhere[/i]…” Shayton took another sip. “You seem to be much smarter than Valjean and his junkie sister, so tell me tell…” Shayton let his words hang in the air. “... Just [i]where[/i] do you think he got them from? A corner store or something?” Dean mulled over what Shayton said. He could put two and two together. He always thought it odd that Judas suddenly had abstractions to give out, given all of them were blind before they got them. He could’ve asked him then, but having them busted their business so he didn’t ask questions. He drink half his drink straight from the rim. “I take it he got them from someone or something too powerful to want to get in bed with, but here we are. Now that he’s gone, I take it they want to collect, or are we renegotiating the deal?” “Bingo,” Shayton said. “To get to the point: Judas got them from Dollhouse… under the condition that the Wolfpack acts as their little enforcers when the time comes.” Shayton finished the glass of iced tea as he continued, “Now that Judas is out of the picture… They’re probably going to want the Wolfpack to work for them or pony up their magic.“ “The Dollhouse? Fuck me.” He finished off the rest of his drink in a hurry. He needed that buzz to hit him quick, because the Dollhouse wasn’t anyone to fuck with. None of them knew them at the time, but it’s been long enough to get somewhat familiar with all the magic groups in the city. Now it all made sense. Shayton put the empty glass down and put his hands together before him. “Which brings me to problem number two: the matter of [i]who[/i] will lead the Wolfpack from here on. Judas was smart… but not smart enough to have a solid replacement. So that means that either Valjean, Judas’ so-called number two, or Conrad and his little sect of Nazi wannabes will take over.” Shayton let his words hang in the air. “... And I know neither are viable options for anything other than being muscle.” “Given you’re here talking to me about it, tells me you’re more the middle man. Which means I’m the only viable option, huh?” He poured his rum over the leftover ice and sipped it straight. “And the deal stands that we just need to be their enforcers when called on, and nothing else, right? Cause I couldn’t give five fucks about the magic. I just want the money. If they don’t have plans to interfere with how I want to run our profits, then I can take that deal…provided you can get the rest of the pack on board.” “They won’t interfere with your money, provided that they give you the same deal they gave Judas,” Shayton said. “I already got Maggy on board… Conrad? Yeah… I don’t think that’s an option.” “I don’t fuck around with Nazi shit. We can kick ‘em. Valjean and Elodie too if they don’t fall in line. Without Conrad and the ones that died, we’re down a few people. That enough for them or should we recruit?” His hand spasmed, almost making him drop his glass. He set it down on the counter. That’s enough for him. [there is other Wolfpack I just haven’t shown them yet] “… What they’re going to want you to do is lay low,” Shayton answered. “You’re on the PRA’s radar, and unfortunately some of their best are in the city at this very moment.” “Damn.” That might ruin his plan to check on that Sully guy. He had his jacket with his business card in it. He didn't care about returning it, but he did need whatever he knew about Tayla. He could do that without fighting and if Sully put up fuss, he could leave and pretend it never happened. “Alright. I'll lay low…can't promise not to crack a skull in a few days though. Someone's skimming off the drug money. Hope they don't mind me sending someone to the ER.” “Just don't make any more big scenes and you should be good,” Shayton grabbed his glass and took a few steps towards the door. “But they’ll be coming to you shortly.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder and said, “I will keep in touch.” Shayton disappeared in a burst of speed. And Dean went to lay down before the pain hit.