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Wow Latro's rumors oh wow woah wow
1. People go missing in towns that Latro has passed through
2. He once seduced an entire ballroom's worth of maidens within a few songs
3. A gang of bandits in the mountains once captured Latro's caravan but within two days, he became the gang's mascot and entertainer, living with them for a month before moving on unharmed. He even keeps in touch with one, who owns a general store in Camlorn now that he's turned his life around.
4. His would-be muggers ran off after finding their blades and blackjacks had no effect on him
5. He's what the Morrowinders call a 'spear-swallower'
@vietmyketrue. But then again, cops and feds are going around with handguns that shoot lasers that can burn a hole through steel and plasma that can make a man’s face a burning crater.

Something, something, UN Geneva Conventions, something, something excessive force lol
@DeadDropbrass, lead, and gunpowder is cheaper
@vietmykemuzzle velocity and mag capacity is MMFF
Would it be alright if I changed Takeo’s .40 cal to a 5.7mm, because 5.7mm is cool and oh-so-future
Takeo closed the door to the apartment behind him and his eyes swept across the living room of the apartment. It was pretty damn typical of someone who was never in it save for a few special occasions and instead lived his life floating from drug house to drug house, running routes and serving fiends- clean. Everything in the apartment looked sorted and in its right place, and he pursed his lips and nodded appreciatively to himself. A clean apartment certainly did make things easier, especially one with this open of an architecture. The door immediately opened into the living room and he could see into the kitchen standing in the doorway like he was. A hall to his left led to the bedroom and perhaps a bathroom. He looked down next to the door and saw a pair of shoes and a jacket hung up on a rack, still wet from the outside. He closed his eyes, taking in the apartment with his other senses. It was silent, save for the quiet din of a song being played in another room. The sound of sliding and then a thump, a draft brushed past him, an eye towards the windows he could see from where he stood told him they were all shut. A balcony door, then, or perhaps a window in another room?

He took his first steps into the house, quiet as he could make them. Turned left and brought himself to the master bedroom. An ear to the door gave him the same music, a little louder this time, though still muffled. He bent down, rummaging around in the inside pocket of his coat and produced a snake camera. Connecting it to his phone and easing the camera under the door gave him a view of the bedroom, similarly clean like the rest of the apartment, single bed in the corner. Open sliding door to the balcony- and a man standing out on it. He eased the camera from under the door, rolling it back up and putting it back in its place in his pocket. He stood, placed a gloved hand on the door and his other gloved hand reached inside his jean's waist and brought out a nine-millimeter handgun. Twisting the knob slow as slow, he pushed the door open and it creaked. He clenched his teeth, but thankfully the sound of the music had drowned that out. With the much louder sound of the music coming through the cracked door came the smell of burning tobacco. He pushed an errant thought about the invincible big tobacco industry in the age of holograms, electric cars and all things that would make his grandparents wide-eyed.

He finished opening the door wide enough for him to slip through and then closed it again. The man was still on the balcony, completely unaware of Takeo. Good. He reached over to the vintage stereo and his forefinger clicked the stop button. Even though he was facing the other direction, the way the man's shoulders pulled back and he rose from his leaning position on the parapet of the balcony, he was rightly confused. After all, it's not every day you turn around and see a man you knew pointing a gun at you. “Takeo.”

“Johnny.” Takeo nodded, “Just get home?”

“Yeah.” Johnny swallowed hard enough that Takeo could hear it. He was nervous. He couldn't blame him though, he'd had guns in his face before too. Pissed himself the first time, but after having it done to him a few more times, you tend to get used to it.

“Come in and have a seat.” Takeo said. Something about irony, having an unexpected guest invite you into your own home. “It's been a while.”

Johnny took the few tentative steps into his bedroom and sat down on his bed, eyes never leaving Takeo. “It has been a while.”

“I believe the last time you were in town before you up and disappeared was right before Frank Hara's sister overdosed.” Johnny never was good at keeping a poker face. Takeo already knew that Johnny sold Yuki the heroin that'd been stepped on that led to the allergic reaction. It was bad enough that it happened only a week after she'd come back from rehab. And a day after getting into a fight with Johnny's girlfriend. “Frank and I have been talking. He says 'hello'.”

“Oh.” Johnny's eyes flitted over to the bathroom and so did Takeo's. A loaded pistol on the counter.

“If you want.” Takeo said. “Wouldn't make a difference though, asking me.”

“Why are you here?” Johnny asked.

“There's only ever one reason people find themselves staring at a barrel, Johnny. You of all people should know that.” Takeo said, his voice level, “Speaking of, I heard your girlfriend was shot once in the head and twice in the chest. No witnesses, no suspects,” Johnny was fucking squirming at that point, with a laughable anger flashing through his eyes, “No informants. Cold case. Sorry it had to be a closed casket.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Johnny asked, his voice quivering.

“I belong to two gangs, Johnny.” Takeo said, cocking back the hammer on the nine in his hand for effect, “Neither gives a shit about how this goes down. As a matter of fact, however it goes down, everyone's happy and the problem is taken care of. The gang I wear a badge for wants me to bring you into custody, testify in court against you using all the evidence I have on you thanks to Frank Hara, and then throw you the fuck away to rot in jail until someone stabs you to death while you take a shit.” Takeo clucked his tongue, “The other one, though. The other one sends its condolences to your mother. I understand how losing a loved one can make you do some crazy shit to yourself, Johnny.”

“Takeo...”

“It'd be a shame. Taking the easy way out. Jumping off a balcony,” Takeo rose and Johnny whimpered pitifully as Takeo pressed the barrel under his chin, “Shooting yourself. Either way, me and Frank Hara were always in agreement that showing your face in Detroit again would be committing suicide.

“Takeo...”

“I'm not wearing a badge right now, Johnny.” Takeo whispered.

“Take-” Takeo whipped his pistol across Johnny's face once, twice, three times, before hauling him up by his collar, dragging him limp and pleading towards his balcony and hauling all one-hundred and ten pounds of emaciated junkie drug dealer over the side.

Immediately, Takeo left the apartment, not taking the same route out as he came in. In a matter of minutes, he was back out on the streets. Screams were coming from the surely grisly scene of a depressed junkie who'd tragically killed himself over the grief of his girlfriend's death. But he wouldn't know anything about that. He rounded the corner into the alleyway and passed his nine-millimeter to a hooded man who promptly took off at a jog towards the other end of the alley, disappearing around the corner. As for Takeo, he opened his car door and slid into the vehicle. Before he can activate the push-button start, his phone begins to ring. Fucking..., “Hello.”

“Central. Now.

“What's it about, Chief?” Takeo asked.

“Summons, you're being moved.” The Chief answered, shortly.

“What? Why?” Takeo had to admit, after all that in the apartment, this really was a goddamned wrench in the cogs.

“Ask the fucking mayor, dick. You've been volun-told.” The Chief did the impossible and answered even more shortly. “Don't be late.” click

“Fuck.” Takeo sped off towards the Central Precinct. A good amount of badge-flashing and dirty looks at all the hang-ups got him into standing in the doorway of the conference room. He took a breath and opened the door and stepped inside. He looked at the faces and without a word, sat at the table, waiting for whatever the fuck this was to happen.
Working on a post now
Hello it is I
@Remipa Awesomehopefully everything goes smoothly! Best of luck with the car and everything!

@Sovi3tcould be! Whip something up, homie.

@FlaggWorking on a CS?
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