[CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/aKMFtS3.png[/img][/CENTER]

[color=766359]Color code 766359[/color]
Location: The Cracked Fang Time: Dusk
Speaking with: NPCs around the bar/Crack Fang
Interacting with: [@Oso] Dom

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[i] Rumbles [/i]

Lucian brought his bike to a screeching halt, right outside the Cracked Fang. Sure, the lot was less busy than usual, especially given the day of the night. But there is and has always been a small cluster of parking spaces, not specially marked, but understood to be 'Members Only' so to speak. The locals don't park there, and the bar will usually send someone out to move a bike or a car that erroneously ends up in one of the spots. 

There was a bike already in a spot. Dom's bike. Lucian supposed that that is how it should be. Pack Leader, already in the building, rather for the Pre-Hunt gathering. Lucian made his way in, half-smoked cigarette hanging loosely in his lips. The gathered mass steered clear of Lucian, either recognizing his kutte, or following the rest of the crowd and just parting a path. Lucian walked up to the bar, and the bartender approached. [color=766359] "He in there?"[/color] The bartender nodded and Lucian replied in the same manner. [color=766359] "Alright then."[/color] Lucian snapped his fingers and reached his hand out. The bartender, without missing a beat, reached beneath the counter and brought out a bottle of Glenlivet 18 years. The bottle itself was about three quarters full. Reserved only for Church or special occasions. [color=766359] "Hey thanks. I'm sure you know what's going on. You can keep the bar open, but the rest of the building is off limits. As per usual. Thanks.[/color] He snuffed out his cigarette and gave the bartender a swift nod before making his way towards where Dom currently sits.

As he made his way down the dimly lit hallway, filled to the brim with the Pack's history. Old photos, patina'd kuttes, all things that spoke volumes to anyone that cared about their history. Each item means something to the Pack. A piece of history, a moment in time. As he made his way to the wooden doors at the end of the hall, he took a brief moment to pause and drew in a deep breath.

Church. 

Everything is finally starting to feel real. Logan Delaney is really dead. His murderers are really still out there, drawing breath and no doubt enjoying whatever payments they received for committing what will be the last criminal act of their pathetic lives. Dom, Lucian, Kessler, and everyone else in the pack will make damn sure of that. 

Pushing through the doors, Lucian confirmed what he had already asked the bartender upstairs that Dom was the only one there at that moment. Lucian stepped in and let the silence wash over him. Lucian circled the table, from his right and towards where there will now be an empty seat. When he reached where Logan would usually sit, he placed the bottle of liquor on the table directly in front of the seat with his left and held on to the top of the chair with his right. Lucian then moved towards Dom, plating a brotherly kiss at the top of his crown before settling into his seat, second one away from the top spot, to Dom's left.