[center][h3][i]Q u i n n   G y l e s[/i][/h3][/center]
[sub][sub][i][h3]Regalia - The Crest[/h3][/i][/sub][/sub][hr]	[i]these things are sent to try us. will have a look xx[/i]

	Quinn nodded in silent acknowledgement, illuminating hues highlighting his serious expression before disappearing suddenly to be replaced by the pitch black of the cellular display. A sigh floated into the air and his gaze shifted to the elegantly built business just outside the car on the right. Regalia was a true city through and through and that meant a grid based design and plenty of parallel parking. This particular business was successful enough to have its own parking lot, but whenever a visit was meant to be more professional than leisurely, the Syndicate's head enforcer had, for some inexplicable reason, always opted to parallel park right in front of the entrance. A professional excursion was certainly the agenda on this night as Quinn emerged from his Camaro and strolled around the front and towards the bouncers who guarded the door to The Crest, one of the most popular nightclubs in the downtown district. 

	A cigarette hung loose and hands were pocketed as the clack of wingtip dress shoes made their way passed the enormous line and right up to club security. Quinn only offered a nod before attempting to enter the establishment and meeting a rather thick forearm that declined entry. He cut his eyes toward the owner of said arm without so much as moving any other part of his own body. "What is this kind of shit?" He questioned nonchalantly. The offending bouncer in question was slightly shorter than Quinn, but much larger. It was clear that creatine and whole chickens were what composed his diet and the smug expression he wore only confirmed what Quinn already knew--the guy had no idea who he was refusing entry to. This was a rare thing amongst the Syndicate members considering most of Regalia knew a lot of them individually. There were always new guys though and this was hiring season after all. 

	"Ya think you can just waltz up here and cut line? Get to the back." 

	Quinn didn't move. 

	The bouncer dropped his arm and replaced the empty space with his puffy stature, staring Quinn straight in the eyes. "Look kid, tonight's not the night to fuck with me. We got a VIP coming through any minute and if he sees this shit, I'm gonna have to rough ya up just on principle," 
	
	Quinn didn't move. 

	The bouncer motioned his fellow co-worker to move a bit further to the side, but in turning his head the mistake had already been made. In one swift, seamless sequence, Quinn sent a v-shaped strike to the throat followed by a kick to the knee, which brought the bouncer down to waist level, and a knee to the face to finish up. The bouncer slumped over and writhed in pain as Quinn--now only one hand in his pocket--stepped over him and into the club. The other bouncer knelt down after he made sure the Syndicate enforcer was out of earshot. "Dude... That was Quinn Gyles," He whispered. The bouncer in a heap made a noise as if he was trying to speak then groaned louder. 

	The interior of The Crest was as grand as the exterior made it seem to be. The space was huge and an assortment of brightly colored lights, performers, and club patrons littered the area. Loud music that was a bit too pop for Quinn's liking played over the speakers and the bass literally thumped his heart as he weaved a path through drunk party seekers and ambiguous dancers. He eventually arrived at the bar which denoted itself with a bright fluorescent blue that coated the counter top, the shelving, and even the drinks themselves. The bartender took a few minutes coming over, but when he saw who his newest patron was, his face quickly went from shining example of customer service to 'what the fuck are you even doing here?'. "Relax, damnit. I'm waiting for someone," Quinn said, putting the bartender at ease. 

	Quinn had never needed to directly contact Vee in order for the woman to understand the two needed to meet. It was an interesting sort of relationship, but one where Quinn always knew what to expect at least. And on this night, having sent out that text earlier, he knew she was on her way. She had to be. In truth, multiple people could have been on their way. The Crest had been a decent meeting spot for months now and with the seriousness of the situation, a rare chance had appeared that all of the Syndicate's members of the Regalia branch could show. With a drink he didn't ask for sitting in front of him, Quinn pulled out his phone and began to play the waiting game.