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[color=766359]Color code 766359[/color]
Location: Bloodmarket Row then Abandon Warehouse Time: Just before sunset into dusk
Speaking with: Randoms mostly. Mentions: [@Oso] Dom

[color=black][sup]__________________________________________________________[/sup][/color] 

[color=766359] "Nah nah nah, mate, there is just no way. Fuck off with that price. I thought we were here to make a deal!" [/color] Lucian said, in a calm, raspy voice. The boxes stacked haphazardly behind the man sitting across from him. [color=00a99d]"You know how hard I had to work to get all these? Directly from Cuba no less! The fucking embargo, the fucking tariffs, fighting the Coastguard. All that costs money man. Lost a few good men doing all that too! The price is to compensate their mothers, for a son lost. You wouldn't say no to that, would ya? Even you wolves had mothers, right?[/color] The stubby, gruff man said.

The air around the table shifted slightly. The man's goons patted slightly to their left and right, showing their unease at what their boss just said. Especially considering where they were. One of them, out of the three, even had the audacity to graze his palm over the pistol tucked away in his waistband. Just like the two-bit gangster wannabe he is...

Lucian blinked slowly, facial expression unchanging. A small, guttural growl did escape his throat. [color=766359]"Bartholomew. Please have care of what you speak...My boys here, they're not as...controlled... as myself...[/color] The man sitting acrossing would look up and see the two newbloods standing behind Lucian, with their kuttes on, letting out a slight snarl with a twitch of their cheeks. [color=766359] "I will accept a 50% discount on the previously agreed upon price for your...indiscretions...[/color] Lucian extended a hand across the table, claws retracting back under his nail bed as he did so. [color=00a99d] "F-fine...But we need to talk about a new price..." [/color] the man said, amidst a swallow of saliva. Lucian grasped the man's hand firmly and shook it. [color=766359] "Certainly. We can do that. Let me know when you'd like to speak again...[/color] His icy blue gaze never leave the man's own. 

Releasing the now-sweaty hand, Lucian turned to the two newbloods behind him [color=766359] "Boys, check the boxes, get our labels on them, and get them back to the Cracked Fang." [/color] The newbloods got to work, doing what Lucian told them to. A low chime rang out from Lucian's pocket and he picks up the call...

[color=766359] "Yeah. What? [i]What? [/i] Slow down. Where? Ok. Tell him I'll be right there. [/color] Turning to the barkeep, Lucian barked out, perhaps more harshly than he would normally [color=766359] "Yeah. Hey! Give me a fresh bottle of Johnnie Walker Red. I'll come settle the price later![/color] The barkeep hesitantly handed Lucian the unopened bottle of blended scotch. Lucian whirled around to face the newbloods and the black market trader [color=766359] "Boys, crack one of the boxes open for me then get the rest box to the Fang. On the double. Barty, we'll talk.[/color] Lucian swiped a few brown, tubular items from one of the cracked boxes and gave both of the newbloods a quick pat on the shoulder.

With that, he stormed out of the dingy bar, and approached his [url=https://cdpcdn.dx1app.com/products/USA/TM/2024/MC/SPORT/ROCKET_3_STORM_R/50/SAPPHIRE_BLACK_-_GRANITE/2000000001.jpg]Triumph Rocket Storm[/url], with the Iron's symbol hand-painted onto the chassis. Foregoing his helmet, as he typically does, he turned the machine over and it roared to life obediently. With one twist of the throttle, Lucian sped off into the rain, scotch bottle in hand.

Upon arrival, Lucian parked his motorcycle as quickly but safely as he can and hopped off. Shaking off some rain from his hair, he walked towards Dominic, gripping the bottle of scotch...