Omakase’s Pennystakes Hideout
As expected, talking with Adel has proved to be more than informative. No longer did Poppy feel like a headless chicken, having no idea how she was going to proceed with the sudden request forced upon her.
Lying back into her creaky office chair and mindlessly sipping on the rest of her spiked coffee that was beginning to turn cold, she pondered the new information she received along with the resources she had on hand.
There was a moment where she dreamed that this corrupt Newport would have incriminating evidence lying about on her desk, and Omakase could just bust in to grab them, guns a-blazing and fists a-punching. But she knew it couldn’t be that easy, given that so few even knew about this cop’s illegal involvements. She had to go about this the smart way.
Poppy stared down at the paper she hastily made her notes on. The paper warped where her pen had met with it so many times, besides where “Ragged Gavel” was written. She had stayed away from that region for so many years, hoping never to cross paths with a certain man again. Yet, here she was, considering to contact him. No matter how she went about Emily Newport and the Thorned Roses, she had to warn him about Newport, who had presumably become his new big boss. How was he supposed to survive under a corrupt authority if he couldn’t even land in anyone’s favour when the jurisdiction remained neutral?
The question was what should she tell him and how would she even approach him? She knew how stubborn John was. Any ounce of amicability between them had dissolved the moment she hurt their mother. He wouldn’t forgive her for that no matter how much time had passed, much less when she had become a crime boss – the very kind his father had vowed to eradicate. It would have to be an anonymous tip for him to give it any amount of consideration. She also needed to make sure he was the only person made wary, lest Newport had watchful eyes in her new jurisdiction and such information would surely bring about suspicions.
That left only one option.
Later
On the street somewhere in Ragged Gavel
John LeRoux was patrolling the streets as usual. He might have been a detective in name only, never getting any real assignments, but he made the most of his position. While he envied those who had entered the precinct the same time he did, now working big cases or promoted to other divisions, he found a sense of duty in his patrol duties, where he could proactively offer a hand to those in need.
Ragged Gavel was a poor district, which saw substantially more minor trouble and petty crimes. The mere presence of a policeman was able to deter potential criminals. He really felt like he was making a difference even if no one else seemed to agree, telling him to just let the small stuff slide, that what he was doing was futile.
He stopped by a hole-in-the-wall convenience store. It was where he always grabbed a pack of cigs. It was bad for his body but he was allowed one vice to mellow out the ever-lingering hint of defeat.
A young man wearing a mechanics jacket was already there, chatting with the shop shopkeeper about something in the news. John thought he heard a bomb being mentioned? It must be some mafia factions going at it again. He couldn’t understand why there was so much lawlessness in this city.
Sensing John’s presence, the young man quickly wrapped up the conversation, “Seems like you have another customer to tend to, I’ll leave you to it. Nice talk.” With that, the young man brushed passed John and strolled down the street.
“Nice fellow, that one.” The shopkeeper said to John. They had become somewhat of friends over the years. “The usual?” The shopkeeper handed him a pack before he even finished his sentence. John could only smile and offer him the exact change he already had in his hands. They exchanged a few more lines of pleasantries and sighs of worry before John headed on his way again.
A few more streets down, John found a corner to enjoy a puff in solitude. He reached into his pocket for a lighter, when his hand was met with something else – a piece of paper. Thinking it was a receipt he had forgotten about, he pulled it out. Alas, it was a note.
Beware of Emily Newport and her people
The note had been typed and printed on common paper, giving no indication of its author. John recalled the young man he had met earlier at the newsstand. He was indeed odd. For one, he had obviously been chatting with the shopkeeper for some time even though he should be on his way to a job. Second, his clothing suggested a mechanics or repairman profession, but he didn’t carry any tools nor seemed to have a car parked nearby.
He glanced back at the note. Someone had obviously wanted to pass him this message discreetly. He recognized the name. She was one of the rising top brasses and was made a role model for the big moves she had been making recently. As far as he knew, she was the image of justice and someone he revered. The author of this note apparently believed otherwise.
He didn’t believe the note entirely. There was a high possibility that the note had come from a criminal organization that wasn’t happy with Newport. But that begged the question, why would they inform him specifically? However, he also didn’t completely discredit the note.
Taking a last drag of his cigarette, he lit the note on fire with the remaining embers.
It was time for him to undertake the biggest, and potentially the most dangerous, investigation yet.
Gold Rim
Just a district over, the young man who had brushed past John at the newsstand, better known as the Handy Man, was now setting up a myriad of surveillance devices with his team.
Omakase infiltrates Gold Rim
Ivory Tower
somewhere close to the Thorned Rose safehouse
Mentions: NA Interactions: Thorned Roses (@estylwen)“Are you ready?” In the back of a van, a man asked the girl who was playing with the rat in her hand.
“I have more faith in Teddy’s body than in your driving, Uncle Pat.” The girl jabbed at the man without lifting an eye from her rat, Teddy.
The last person in the van barely held back a chortle. “Uncle Pat” shot a physician a darted look.
Perhaps trying to alleviate the man’s embarrassment, the physician asked him why they had to thoroughly investigate this hideout before arranging a meeting with the Iron Roses and hopefully setting them loose on the Thorned Roses who clearly violated their territory.
“We’re making sure that Noah isn’t being held here.” Everyone agreed that it would be quite unwise to hold a hostage on foreign territory. “Plus, Pops didn’t want to approach the Iron Roses easily after we caught wind that the suspected Blue Blood spies were released without much fuss.”
Paying no mind to the other two, the girl, Talia King, gave a kiss to her pet rat, and activated her gyft. Controlling Teddy’s body, she left the van and approached the unassuming residence.
Member
Hey Im Jordan
Feline
RPM
Barham
Rinanina09
Deadline
Vixere
Jones Sparrow
