[center][h1]Dean[color=2e2c2c].[/color]Walker[/h1][/center]

[@Punished GN]

When Judas called and told him there was trouble at the Veni Vedi Veni he couldn't have cared less. He didn't want to go on over and deal with whatever was going on. He had books to finish settling from this week's drug sells. He suspected someone might be skimming some of the money, but he couldn't be sure until he crunched the numbers and noticed a pattern. He'd been keeping an eye on for the last two weeks. He needed this week's numbers and next weeks to be sure. Couldn't bother Judas without evidence of some dumb fuck kid stealing their money. It'll have to wait though. Judas wanted him with the rest of the crew to the club. He locked up his office, then headed out, meeting the pack halfway there.

He rode in the back and arrived at a clusterfuck of abstractions. Some people he didn't know were causing a fuss. 

"Fuck me." He sighed. He got off his bike and joined the crew in a group. He stood in the back, towering over most of the crew other than Valjean and Shayton was slightly shorter than him. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket with his match book. He kinda hated lighters. Didn't know why. Maybe it's the way it felt in his hand. Sometimes the shit didn't light without a few clicks. He could strike a match and his get his fix right away. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lit the match, then lit the cig. He took a pull, then blew it out. 

"Now, can someone tell me, who the fuck here killed Joe Skinner?! Don't give me any of that "Aw, we didn't do it, believe us" bullshit! Shit ain't happen until you motherfuckers showed up, thrashing the place! So, you guys have one fucking minute to decide who the fuck killed a member of our pack before we send all of you to your God!" Valjean yelled.

"Damn. Joe's dead? Well fuck me. He was good for business." He didn't keep the club's books, but he knew when money was good. 

He got a little closer to the chaos, keeping his gun under his jacket. He rarely needed to pull it out. His size was enough of a deterrent for most folks. Plus, he wouldn't need it when Judas showed up. That's the go ahead to use their abstractions of if everyone here was gonna end up dead anyway. 

Up close he got a better look at the people he didn't recognize, eyeing the girl Victor called up. Probably his type. He felt something dangerously off about her. He didn't get too close. There were several other guys there he didn't know either. Strange thing about all this, is that they knew all the abstraction users in the city. At least anyone that's a major player anyway. This folks mixing up with their business was a death sentence. He expected this shit from 8th Street. None of those bitches were here. So who the hell are they?

"Ey, Val, something 'bout these no names don't add up. That girl, those girls, and those guys." He pointed at the one Victor called forward, the other women and men he didn't know. "That's a lot of fucking people signing their death warrants tonight. You reckon they new or we ain't notice them till now?"