[CENTER][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/863442553609519125/1366951601004089424/ChatGPT_Image_Apr_29_2025_08_36_57_PM.png?ex=6812d062&is=68117ee2&hm=9edba58dd286035d35b340f6f5fc8939051247f4333b993f0231c841f82c456e&=&format=webp&quality=lossless[/img][/CENTER] [color=766359]Color code 766359[/color] Location: Abandon Warehouse Time: Dusk Speaking with: [@Oso] DomMentions: [@deegee] Kessler [color=black][sup]__________________________________________________________[/sup][/color] The rain letting up was a nice touch, a bit poetic perhaps. Lucian flung out the kickstand to his bike, and approached Dom. Standing under the dim light of the encroaching night, there was a quiet menace to his Alpha. Something that needed no words. As Lucian walked, the soft crunch of gravel echoed more than it should. Lucian turned and noticed his pack-brother Kessler approaching as well. Lucian gave him a wordless acknowledgement, a simple but effective greeting. As he handed the bottle of blended scotch to Dom, Lucian knew things were going to be bad. From the way the newblood sounded on her phone call to him, to how Dom torn into the bottle. Lucian drew in a deep breath and followed Dominic into the warehouse. The creak of the door, the must of the stale air mixing with the freshness of rain and the swaying of the old warehouse lightbulb all made for a dramatic set up to a tragic scene. It was Logan Delaney. Or what was left of the man. Beaten, mangled, mutilated, among a bevy of words that could be used to describe the image that was seared into Lucian's mind. Lucian's left eye twitched. Was it anger? Was is sorrow? He didn't know himself. In front of him was the former second-in-command of the pack, the big brother everyone could rely on. A tough son-of-a-bitch, no less.[color=766359] "Made you pay for it, didn't they, D."[/color] 'D' was what Lucian would call Logan, in informal situations only of course. [color=766359] "You tough old fuck. Goddammit. Couldn't go cleanly and just had to leave a mess for us to clean up. Fucking mongrel bastard."[/color] None of these words were spoken loudly. None of these words were spoken out of insult. It was just a way Lucian's subconscious is using to shield himself from lashing out, from charging straight back out there and burning Halcyon down to find the rats that did this to Logan 'Red Right Hand" Delaney. Lucian watched quietly as Dominic poured one out for their fallen brother, as a last rite. Blinking a few times and turning to cast a glance at Kessler, Lucian snatched the bottle from Dominic. Studying the bottle in his grip for a brief moment, he did exactly as Dominic did and pour a line onto the concrete next to the lifeless body of his pack-brother before taking a long, hard, swig from the bottle himself. Thrusting the bottle into the clutches of Kessler, he turned and walked up the the body and pulled out two wrapped cigars from the inside-pocket of his kutte. [color=766359] "For the road, fresh shipment for the pack. See you around, old man." [/color] Tucking the cigars neatly into the pocket of Logan's kutte, Lucian stood back up and face the door. Speaking with Dominic now, [color=766359] "Where are we burying him? On a hill where there is lot of sun? The quicker we get this done, the quicker I can get to work...[/color] The next few words to come from Lucian were colder than usual. A low, raspy growl behind his words. A mix of emotions ran hot through him right now. A chemical mixture so volatile it might just spontaneously burst into flames. [color=766359] "Because you're right. The hunt's on, brother. [/color] Lucian said while having his head turned ever so slightly to his right to address Dominic.