NationStates Jolt Archive

Behind every great fortune there is a crime -Honore de Balzac

A flash of lightening danced across the night sky, flashing in its brilliant thunderous waltz. The flashes of light illuminated the vast bland landscape, dry rotting fields extended far into the distance until meeting an endless forest of leaveless trees. Their branches reaching up to the sky like pitiful souls in hell reaching to get out desptite the imposibility of it.

The only thing that resembeled life on this morose landscape was the giant victorian house rising up from the top of a hill that overlooked the lands. The decrepit old house could have been mistaken for being dead itself, save for the lights comming from several of the windows. Shingles randomly fell off of the room and banged down the house until laying on the ground like fallen soldiers. The lit upstairs windows looked like giant eyes that constantly surveyed the land around them, giant unblinking eyes that acted as if they were guarding something. Around the house various cars stood silently parked, all top of the line machines; representative of the status of the people they had brought here this evening.

A woman stood up and pulled the window shut, the edges of her short black and white skirt creeping up her thighs. A slight gust of wind managed to fly inside the closing window and it blew up the skirt slightly further. The wind caught the flames of the many candles about the massive dinning room, pushing them wildly to and fro and casting erie images across the walls. The maid pulled the velvet drapes close and picked up her tray of glasses and continued her job of serving them to each person at the table.

The table seemed to go on and on for yards, but it was fitting for the size of the room. Several three pronged candle holders took were spaced out over the table, providing the light and the mood for the evening. The walls were covered with eyes that seemed to stare incessantly at the backs of the people around the table. The dozens of pictures of various people, dressed in archaic clothing, seemed to enjoy their position of staring down at the rest of the world.

At the head of the table a large man sat silently by as his servants went about their job of pleasing his guests with food and drink. He lazily picked at the plate of fish in front of him, filleted herring, and swirled the contents of the crystal glass about. Taking a sip from the anchient wine from the cellars in the bowels of the house, he let the dark purple liquid touch his lips, sit there for a second, and drain down his throat. Smiling from the sweet drink he placed the empty glass back down on the table and it was quickly filled back up by the lovely maid. Taking another sip from the refilled glass he finally adressed the gathered people, for the first time since he greeted them when they all arrived at the house.

"The warmest greetings to you all, I am so pleased that each of you have taken the time to come all the way out to my house to hear my proposition. I trust that the food and drink is more than adequate, you will each find your rooms for the evening to be equally fine." He stopped for a moment, resting his aging and thickly accented German voice, taking another sip of wine.

"For those of you who do not know me, my name is Ormand Rink; and yes everything in the papers are true." He stopped and smiled at the joke. "It pleases me to see the success of this meeting, bringing together so many of the worlds greatest criminal minds. I know that all of you must be anxious to hear the proposition I have for you all but first if you would take the time to introduce yourselves." Ormand readusted himself in his seat and took another sip from the glass.

OOC: Ok, this is open to anyone there is plenty of room at the table so there can be many participants and the people here can have several members in their party. Please no cops, detectives, or undercover agents; this is what it is a meeting of great criminal minds.

It is now open to you all, introduce yourselves. Tell a story of what you are most famously known for, how you got to the house, add more description of the house as you arrived and mingled about or whatever you want. Have fun with it.

bump

Swifty drank from his wine with tremebling hands. But, then again, thats what too much coffee does to you. And, since he was one of the greatest hackers in the world, he needed alot of coffe.

His real name wasn't actually Swifty; in reality he was Morty Quazuj, a mild mannered programmer belonging to a respectably software company. On the internet, he was one of the most, if not the most, feared hacker. There wasn't a single code he couldn't break or a single firewall he couldn't pass through. He was also a superb physical thief and spy; he always carried around random gadgets that could get him out of any situation. For example, a cyinide-tipped dart shot from a mini launcher hidden in his boot. Or a ultra-sonic grenade that could blow his enemie's eardrums to pieces while-assuming he was wearing sound dampeners in his ears-he was left unharmed. One of his favorite weapons was a large SIG Sauer pistol that he carried in his belt. There was nothing special to it; it was just a huge ass pistol. Of course, no weapon could replace his laptop computer.

The greatest thing about Swifty was that he was impossible to catch; he was like a phantom that dissapeared in the wind before you could get a hold on him. This is what the 1st national Ravea bank must of felt like when he took over 3 quarters of a billion dollers electronicly and placed it in his own little untracable private account.

He was currently stuck in this huge house, quietly sipping wine. He went for the "SketchBall" style of clothing, dressed in a long black trench coat. He had been approached by an agent of this man, this 'Ormand Rink' and was offered a job. He decided to accept, and now he was stuck in here. He was, however, eager to hear Rink's proposal.

Black wasn't sat at the table. He was lounging upon a deep leather chaise longe off to the side. The flickering candles cast his square jaw and long silver hair in a harsh light, making him look considerably older than he actually was. The harsh light was unable to make a man like Black look any meaner than he actually was, but perhaps now it at least gave a fair impression. If Lee Van Cliff and Dracula had a bastard child, he was resting upon that chaise longe. Black wore a waist length cape, long straight cut coat, shirt made of silk and lace, and very tall boots. The only indication that he belonged to this century was the mirrored glasses that didn't seem to interfere with his vision at all.
In one of his massive hands he held a glass of vintage port, the other hand was stroking the hair of a brunette he had hired especially for the occasion.
Uninvited, his sole contribution to the affair so far had been to nod at everyone once, and once only, when he first caught their gaze.

bump bump like it so far :)

hmmm bump

A japanese man halfway down the table spoke up.
"This is nonsense. We are getting nowhere. I am leaving."
Black moved his glass of port to the other hand, and held his now empty left hand out towards the girl he had been groping.
The japanese man stood up.
The prostitute handed Black a knife.
The japanese man started walking towards the door.
Black waited.
The japanese man had now made it to the end of the table, and was crossing the open space infront of it.
Still Black waited.
As the man was about to walk through the doorway, Black threw the knife.
It landed about six inches ahead of the japanese man and embeded in the door frame.
Black's voice was deep and gravely. There was something about the way he spoke that made you feel like someone had just walked over your grave - wearing hobnailed boots.
"No you are not." Black said. "Rink has an offer to make. You will consider it."
"This is lunacy. Do you know who I am?"
Black nodded just enough to indicate that, yes he was entirely aware of who the Yakuza gentleman before him was, yes he was entirely aware of just how influential the yakuza gentleman before him was, and no none of this impressed him at all.
"Do you know who I am?" was Black's only spoken retort.
"No I do not." The yakuza was starting get edgy now, feeling a little unsure of the situation. It was not a sensation the yakuza liked.
"My point." That voice, there was something fundamentaly wrong, something sinister and evil about it. "I know who you are, where you eat, sleep, work, live and breath. I know who your friends are. I know enough to guarantee my people can find and hurt you anytime I like. And you know nothing about me."
The yakuza just stood there stareing and woundering what he was ment to do now.
Black switched the port back to his right hand, and went back to caressing the girls neck with his left.
The Yakuza returned to his seat.
"Gentlemen." Black said, his fingers now stroking the girls cheek. "Please, continue."
During the entire altercation, Black had not moved from the comfort of the chaise longe. The pyscotic madman had stared down a yakuza cheif more or less laying down.

"There are several here who have not introduced themselves. No matter, I am sure they will. Ormand Rink, you had something to say, did you not?"

Kilkern's eyes moved between the Yakuza boss and the very strange man upon the chaise lounge, his fork midway between his plate and his mouth, which hung open. The portly crime boss put down his utensil and sat back in his chair, hoping his moment of dumbfonded suprise was not seen by the others in the candlelight. Well, this is turning out to be quite a night, David Kilkern thought.

-Withdrawn from thread-

ooc: alright posting under this name for a sec (long story about jiggady and rouge jiggady but same person)... looks like there is some interest so I will go forward in this post later.

Hoot (http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-images/Film/Pix/gallery/2003/07/02/ca262626.jpg) leaned back in his chair, and kicked his feet up on the table. He was dressed like a thug, a dock punk of sorts. His mohawk was less than an inch high, and simply added a crest to his head of short trimmed black hair. He wore a raggy loose white TShirt, and a pair of black jeans, with a short chain going from a belt loop to his rear pocket. He wore black combat boots, with the jeans worn out.

He sipped a glass of wine, not really paying attention to the Japanese man, nor the one on the couch, nor the hacker, nor the big man. He simply rubbed his arm, where a tattoo of a Celtic Cross was inked on, and spun the glass in his hand. More tattoos graced his neck, and a large on across his shoulders and upper back that was hidden by the shirt.

The fact was this. Hoot was no criminal, but indeed a member of the Imitoran INSA Special Operations Unit. However, he was here on his own. He didn't want to kill anyone, didn't want to bust anyone, or put the racket down. His government could give a flying f*ck all about this meeting, he was here on his own. In his position, it never hurt to have some bad ass friends.

He was armed very, very, lightly, simply with a black matte Berretta. One magazine in the gun, round in the chamber. Nothing special, he prefered to use his hands to kill, and did so very well, blessed with a knowledge of death that very few could even come close to understanding. A knife, his only other weapon, was held in one of his boots. When the others had finished talking, he spoke quickly.

"Just tell us whats f*cking going on," he swore in nicely Irish accented English.

OOC: Is this like one of those 1950's French Noir films? It gives me that impression. I like those. Sorry if I'm interupting.

ooc: eehh sort of.. more like a modern day ganster trying to relive the glory days of the 20's


ic:

A wide smile was fixed across his face the entire time he watched the tense interactions between his guests. It was like back in the good old days when he would be sitting around a similar table with a bunch of high strung bosses and thugs who hated each other. It was on one of those occasions that he first heard of this proposition, made by the late and great boss Mickie 'fingers' Turo. They had nearly pulled the heist off, but infighting between the gathered crime lords had led to their downfall and to the death of many of them and the imprisonment of the rest. Rink had spent five years in the joint on account of the bungling of the crime and he had spent that time going over what had gone wrong.

In the years after his release Ormand Rink spent his time wisely, building up his reputation as one of the toughest maffia heads in Jiggady. He ran the rum market, and had stakes in nearly all of the gambling industry; using the lessons taught to him by Turo to maintain a vast criminal empire while keeping it distant from his personal life. With the seperation by Rouge Jiggady, Ormand had found the perfect opportunity to start a new life and cut all ties with his old buisnesses; avoiding imprisonment just in time as most of his former empire fell upon itself.

And now here he was at the tender age of 65 and still commanding the largest crime organization in Rouge Jiggady. Nearly forty years after the failed heist, and ready to try it all again.

"Easy gentlemen, easy." Ormand said as he rose to his feet. This was deffinetly a much different group that the the one he worked with all those years ago. But perhapes that only meant that this time they would be successful.

"If we are to undertake this together than we must learn to tollerate each other. Each of you brings a unique gift to the table, a talent that alone is great, but pooled together with the talents of everyone at the table is extraorinary. And the time is nearly upon us, if you all please." Ormand walked away from the table and into the next room, gesturing for everyone to follow him.

ooc: all for now, as I plan out the caper...I had several different ideas planned out and will pick one that seems most worthy for the collected pool of people presented. post tomorrow

"Christ, its always a game," Hoot said, standing up and following Ormand closely.

Black's mirrorshaded eyes scanned the room as Rink talked, slowly sizing up many of the players once again.

Ormand Rink - Old, and you didn't become old in a game like this without being leathaly smart. But that also made him weak and slow. This was his house, and suposedly his show. Outwardly, Rink was the only man Black came close to showing respect for.

His fingers rested on the girls lips for a few moments, and she started kissing them softly.

Swifty - Knowledge was power. And here was someone who could change and steal that knowledge. But despite that he didn't like Swifty. Well, Black being the sort of bastard satanspawn he was he didn't like anyone. But he disliked Swifty more than he disliked everyone else. Why? His resume was just too good, his background too clean. A master hacker, theif and spy. In Blacks experience, anyone who looked too good to be true was.

He moved his fingers away from her lips, and traced a line down over her chin, under her chin and down to the silver chain that rested on her neck.

Kilkern - An unknown, much like himself. Kilkern oozed money and power, but you didn't get to be rich and powerfull without a few tricks up your sleave. Good. It was allways nice to have an ace in the hole.

His wandering fingers were now over her neck and making their way down her cleavage.

Darkwater - A murderer. And murderer's didn't get to places like this by being stupid with it. Dangerous.

He began playing with her breast, none too gently.

Hoot - Hoot he also didn't like, but for different reasons. Hoot he didn't like because he had no idea who he was. Everyone else Blacks research had turned up a little about. But not Hoot, and that made Black wounder why.

The girl winced in pain.

Black woundered what everyone else made of him. Almost everyone else had been aproached, asked to turn up here today. He had just turned up.
Rink opened the door to the next room, then headed off expecting everyone to follow him. Black picked a silver tipped walking stick up, and pulled himself to his feet. There was something unsetling about his gait, and the way he walked, something not imediately obvious. But if you were paying carefull attention, you could work out what it was. His footsteps made no sound. Hers did, his were totaly silent. He walked towards the exit from the room, and paused to tie his prositutes chain around a tableleg. He walked up to one of the servant girls who had been serving the food and drink earlier. She was waiting by the door. Black said just one word to her.
"Waltz?"
The servant, confused, just nodded. There, unacompanied, whilst everyone else planned a legendary crime, Black danced a waltz with a servant girl. He was a good dancer. When the waltz was finished, Black kissed the servant gently on the cheek, bowed slightly and turned back into the room. He untied the girl from the table, then kicked her feet out from under her. Black took hold of her chain, then proceeded to walk the length of the room with his cane in one hand and dragging the girl - choking from the chain around her neck - over the floor with the other. He stopped in the doorway and lent against the frame looking into the next room.

OOC: At work, post will come later.

Kazuma was listened with half of his attention as he studied the moetly assortment of characters around him. Kazuma was what you might call a hired gun at least if you wanted to die. His powers had never been fully plumbed if only because no one had ever really pushed him.
The only reason he was here was in the name of the WR clan a large criminal syndicate located worldwide. He'd gotten a few curious looks about his scars, his silver-tipped orange hair, and the sheer multude of tattoos he had. But no one had ever said a Rouge Sage would look normal. He controlled spirits and had free access to the spirit world, besides which he was an accomplished fighter especially with the sword. And quite frankly if that pink-haired fool looked at him one more time he'd slit his throat.

Kilkern stood up from the table and looked to his associate, Hendricks.
"Come, the quicker we hear this, the more time we have to make money." He wondered how much of his resources he was willing to part with to join Rink's caper. You have to spend money to make money, he thought, though I better spend it soon anyway. Kilkern's grip on the Halibrisian underworld was slightly loosening, as the young government was cracking down on the mob-run casinos.
Kilkern followed the man out of the dining room who he thought was called Hoot.

Boris Krinschov stood, and looked across the room. "Yes, let's see what the man has to say."

Krinschov, leader of the Russian Mob, once of the most succesful and influential mobs in the world, walked through the doors and followed Rink. Krinschov was a brown haired man in his late fifties, and he was preparing for his retirement. But upon receiving the call from Rink, an old friend from the good old days, he had decided to give it a last go before retiring and turning over the mob to one of his luitenants.

As he walked by each of the people, Krinschov's black jacket, which blended in nicely with his red t-shirt and tan pants swayed slightly. From the look on his face, Boris had no concerns about that night. And, of course, he didn't.

Boris had had his men do some research on each of them, and he had to say, they were all pretty respectable criminals, none of whom would be stupid enough to suddenly try to kill some of the best known criminals in the world. If only he could work with people like these all the times.

Coming up next to Rink, he turned towards him. "So exactly what are we here about, Ormand?"

Boris Krinschov stood, and looked across the room. "Yes, let's see what the man has to say."

Krinschov, leader of the Russian Mob, once of the most succesful and influential mobs in the world, walked through the doors and followed Rink. Krinschov was a brown haired man in his late fifties, and he was preparing for his retirement. But upon receiving the call from Rink, an old friend from the good old days, he had decided to give it a last go before retiring and turning over the mob to one of his luitenants.

As he walked by each of the people, Krinschov's black jacket, which blended in nicely with his red t-shirt and tan pants swayed slightly. From the look on his face, Boris had no concerns about that night. And, of course, he didn't.

Boris had had his men do some research on each of them, and he had to say, they were all pretty respectable criminals, none of whom would be stupid enough to suddenly try to kill some of the best known criminals in the world. If only he could work with people like these all the times.

Coming up next to Rink, he turned towards him. "So exactly what are we here about, Ormand?"

"Well, at least we finally get to know what this is all about," Muttered Swifty as he followed Hoot and and Kilkern to the next room with Rink.

Hoot simply stayed quiet through the whole thing. He had nothing to say to any of this men, and he choose to not bull shit around. It wasn't his MOS. Instead, he observed, and watched.

ooc: alright alright...i'm getting on it, sorry about the time inbetween posts..combination of work, bar, and forum stupidity. I was actually going to drop this because i just couldnt figure out where to take it, but with the interest in it I will go on.

ic:

Ormand opened the great doors to the parlour room letting the golden light filter into the darker dinning room. Hundreds of candles illuminated the vast room and Ormand stepped aside, allowing his guests to walk right into the center of the room and appreciate it all.

This was his pride and joy, the years of his work were on display here gloriously presented as if it were a museum. And in fact many of the pieces in the room came from various museums around the world. One of Da Vinci's original flying machines hung from the ceiling, looking as new as the day it was created. Golden chalices were lined about walls in glass display cases. Suits of armor spanning thousands of years of civilization stood silently by, forever locked in their poses like soldiers perfectly in formation. Great diamonds, crowns, scepters and gold coins sat by in cases all over the room, and the trims around the doorframes were all gold plated.

Ormand smiled as each of his guests walked into the room, nodding and smiling to each of them as they entered. There are alot of good faces here He thought. Good men, tough men, smart men. He was pleased to see that Boris had made it to the event his evening, he would have hated for his friend to miss out on this opportunity.

This is deffinetly not like the good old days though. These are a different breed of men from myself, and from Krinschov and Kilkern for that matter. Crime bosses who could regale in the old days when there was still class in our profession. This is what I hope to do today, one last heist that will make us legends.

The men and their guards or their luitenants (if they brought them) slowly filtered into the room and took seats in the many couches around a central coffee table. Ormand turned his head slightly in confusion, sure that there was someone else present that had suddenly wandered off, Ormand couldnt even place the mans face or name for that matter. He whispered into the ear of a butler standing next to him and the other man went off to do his buisness.

"Vell gentlemen, I know that you have all been kept in suspense for awhile now; and that most of you probably arent used to such treatment. But you are hear upon my invitation and you must humble an old man. I am pleased to show you my gallery room, it contains all of my greatest triumphs as a criminal. This is what I have a fondness for, art and history; sure cold hard money is nice but it is cold and hard. This, this is full of life. Each piece has an aura of history that is priceless.

"But I did mention this room contains all of my greatest triumphs; except one." Ormand moved from where he was standing and revealed another glass display case that was empty.

"This gentlemen, is my greatest failure. Forty years ago the great crime boss Mickie 'fingers' Turo, may he rest in peace, held a meeting just like this one. He assembled together a crack team of the greatest crimnals the world had known at the time to propose this very crime. I had the great fortune to be in on the deal so I know what you are feeling right now in those seats. Get on with it, this better be worth it, old fool should get out of the game.

Ormand stopped and smiled at this point, taking a sip of his wine.

"Money and power are good yes, very good. But a legacy, something that will live far beyond your wealth and your lives; now that, that is great. And this is what will get us this legacy gentlemen, along with a great deal of wealth." Rink pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed one of the many digets on the little black box.

A holographic image appeared in the glass box, and butlers went about the room putting out various candles to allow for better viewing of it, and to add to the mood.

http://iml.jou.ufl.edu/projects/Spring03/Kim/taylorburtondiamond.gif

"This diamond is the 'Heart of an Empire'. Gentlemen, what I am proposing to you is to steal the heart of an empire." Ormand smiled and paused, allowing for it to settle into the minds of his guests.

ooc: best picture of one i could find. Thats it for now, will post rest sometime later.

Swifty whistled softly.

"That is one hell of a diamond. It must be worth a lot. Whats the security covering this thing?"

He thought a moment, then said, slowly, "If you were here forty years ago trying to steal this very diamond, and you are now here without it, then you must of failed. And that means whoever has this is very, very, good at keeping it."

Boris simply sat back, and did a quickly crossed himself at the name of Mickie Turo. When Mickie had been running the show, Boris had just been slightly above a street punk. Not only that, but in the Russian mob, which, at the time, had been against Mickie's gang (which had been one of the best in the world). But nonetheless, Boris, like any criminal, couldn't help but remember the man. He was to the civilized criminal what Al Capone had been to the American gangster.

"Before we start talking about history, I'd like to know a little bit more about this thing, if you don't mind?" Krinschov said it unofensively and sort of to the side. Anyone there could tell that he was simply awed by the thing. But then, that was Boris' love, stealing. It didn't hurt anybody who didn't need to be hurt, didn't get you much heat from the cops...and it was fun as hell. Well, at least, it was fun as hell. In this case the other two statements might not be as true.

"This diamond is named the 'Heart of the Empire' as I have previously said. And it is literally the heart of the Lishtgot Empire, it is their most sacred possestion. The diamond has been a figure for the nation since its existence, the people find comfort in it through troubling times and every emperor of the nation kisses it upon their inaguration." Ormand smiled as he talked, his eyes never leaving the holographic image of the large stone.

"The diamond is worthless gentlemen." He paused and shifted his attention towards the seated men. He saw the looks of surprise, disbelief, and perplexion; and it made him smile further."

"What the hell are you talking about Rink?"

"Why the hell are we stealing it if it is worthless?"

Questioning voices rose up from the gangsters and thugs. Ormand finally took a seat himself and drank more from the crystal glass.

"I assure you gentlemen, I speak the truth. The diamond has absolutly no value, but it has a legacy. For centuries people have found hope when they looked at it, and since it has been in the possesion of Lishtgot Empire they have had nothing but great fortune.

"As our smart friend here pointed out yes we failed forty years ago in stealing it. And yes, the 'Heart of an Empire' diamond is indeed guarded very very well. But that is why I have brought you all into this, each of you experts at what you do; so we shall have no problem with it no?

"Now I know exactly what you are all thinking right now, vell two things at least. One, how is this diamond worthless? Very simple gentlemen, the diamonds value is in its legacy as a prize to the empire; that is why it is so well guarded. It is worthless because it is not a true diamond, it is a crystal gemstone that is mostly quartz. Think fools gold for diamonds. Thus it has no real value per say. There are millions of things like this but what makes this so special is the value the Lishtgot place on it as the foundation of their empire; and that it looks really fucking pretty. People have been trying to steal this diamond for decades upon decades and no one has succeded. Every collector in the world wants to have the 'Heart of an Empire' in their display case and they have invested millions upon millions to try and get the worthless rock.

"Now, your next question. If the diamond that you are stealing is worthless how the hell are you going to be paid? Vell, I vill front the money for the entire operation; whatever you need you vill have. So this is at no personal cost to you at all, unless you wish to do so. This is the brilliance of the crime, since you vill be stealing the most guarded treasure of this entire empire; they vill be totally clueless when you hit their treasury at the same time." Ormand again pulled the remot out of his hand and clicked another button. A part of one of the walls shifted aside reveling a projection screen, Ormand pressed another button and an image came on of the main Bullivard of Lisht, the capitol of Lishtgot.

"This building here is the museum, and this next to it is the treasury department of the nation. Billions of dollars in currency, gold, jewels, bonds are stored in the vaults here; and this is your target. With the entire museum and police force stationed there up in arms about their missing diamond you will be able to hit the vaults with little to no interferance. Each of you will recieve a minimun of two hundred million dollars apiece from the money stolen from the treasury. And that is how you vill all be paid, and is your incentive for pulling this heist." Ormand ended his long winded speech by draining his glass of wine and raising it for a near by butler to refill the glass.

"Now gentlemen I have to know if you are in or are you out. And then we can go about the specifics of how this vill be successful."

ooc: Lishtgot, totaly made up for the purposes of this

-Withdrawn from thread-

Hoot looked at Darkwater. "At least two million you retard? Are you deaf and stupid, or just ignorant?" He looked back at the image, and thought for a second.

"Why dont we just make a fake copy of the heart, blow up the mueseum, say we got it out before hand, and then rob the treasury? If ya'll dont like that, then Ormand, exactly how many guards and cops are we looking at on site, like at the mueseum?"

-Withdrawn from thread-

Hoot didn't even bother looking at him, he simply looked over the map. "You'd have to hit me first ya dumb whore."

-Withdrawn from thread-

Boris grimaced. From what he'd heard, it had been exactly this that had screwed up the last attempt. Of course, it was also exactly this that screwed up half of his operations. Why couldn't criminals just get along?

"Did you say two hundred million dollars, Ormand? Comrade, that is a lot of money..."

"On you bitch? Yeah. Im suprised you have the brain power to know how to remove the weapons from the holsters. Of course, basic intelligence cant be gifted upon everyone." He stroked his chin, and shifted his weight to his left foot, scratching his left shin with his right foot.

-Withdrawn from thread-

"Gentlemen, gentlemen I vill not have bloodshed in my house. You are here as my guests yes, but while here you vill obey my rules." Ormand shook his head in disgust. He could see a similar look in the eyes of Boris. This was a different game these days, no respect amongst the men, always infighting. Ormand thought to himself. He rubbed a hand over his wrinkled forehead and tried to talk over the commotion in his deep commanding voice.

"Two hundred million apiece is a generous estimate, calculated with the total value that the treasury vaults contain. I doubt that you vill be able to make off with the entire treasury so I vill imagine that the actuall amount comes closer to one hundred million or less. Still more than the local lottery amount, and with a greater chance of getting the big payoff." Ormand paused and then spoke directly to Boris.

"These young punks have no concept of money, unless there are many zeros they are not interested."

-Withdrawn from thread-

OOC: Yes, but unlike you, Hoot is also educated and very intelligent, despite his looks...and you shouldnt have pulled the gun.

IC:

Before Darkwater could even say 'Bang, Your Dead,' Hoot moved. He slid with a Jet Li like grace under his arm, came up, and gripped the wrist. Before Darkwater could react, he twisted towards teh thumb, pulled up, and grabbed the hand gun as it fell from his palm (OOC: I really got to do that once...I love open days with our SWAT team). He then slid around to the right, pulled the hand gun from the holster, and dropped back, leveling both pistols at Darkwater's head, five feet away. The entire action had taken all of a second, and Hoot never once spoke.

"Gotcha," he said, before hitting the magazine release on each weapon, and tehn racked the slides on his thighs to pop out the chambered round. He then, without taking his eyes off Darkwater, removed the slides from each gun, dropped them, and kicked them back as well. He then handed the disassembled Glocks back to Darkwater, by dropping them on the floor and kicking them over. "Dont play with those till you know how to use them, son," he said, mocking his tone.

OOC3: Hoot isnt of this world, just to make clear. If you want the full explanation, I'll give it to ya, or you can wait about a month for my Hoot story to come out. But really, with his abilities, at the speeds his able to move, the above action is more than likely exactly what would happen IRL.

-Withdrawn from thread-

OOC: Hoot is not alive. Well, not really. Basically, in another thread, he was shot, and died. And he went to hell (if you knew the character, you'd understand why). And when he went to hell, he of course mouthed off, and refused the whole torture and fire and brimstone and blah blah blah. So of course, he engages in a nifty bout of hand to hand with Satan himself. And wins. Five years after his death, some scientists who disregarded the idea of an afterlife figure out away to bring Hoot back from the dead. And they do.

So what we know have is the prince of the underworld, king of darkness, ultimate evil, etc. etc. etc., in a human body. Not possesd, not a manifistation of evil, but the actual presence of Hell, on earth. Now then, this brings us to a slight problem. Satan himself (well, technically Hoot himself, considering that now he is, well sorta is, Satan) isn't gonna be on earth with the powers of a normal human being.

Hes faster, stronger, smarter, more agile, quicker on his feet, more acurate with weapons, and all around deadlier than the deadliest human alive. Mix that in with the fact that he is (well, Hoot is, or, er was) 35, and been in the ICMC since 16, Spec Ops since 19, hes gonna know what the hell hes doing.

Now then, either he did what I said above, or he blasted Darkwater with a pure blast of energy that is fathomable only from the deepest pits of hell, its your choice. Thats the way he is, and will be.

And he had his back to your character the entire time he was infront of him. Kinda hard to hit the groin then.

-Withdrawn from thread-

OOC: Appearently your not from Ft. Worth, and I mentioned in several posts that thre was somethign off with him. If you cant figure that out, then get over it. And I prefere Wushu. Better looking, more fun to preform, and nothigns better than kicking someones ass without having to take your hands outa your pockets. If you dont like the fact that Im gonna use this character, then fine, either shove off, or have Jiggady ask me to leave, I dont care either way.

OOC: I always thought Wushu was the art of 'fighting without fighting'. Recon is where you learn the good shit.

Since I don't know how the f**k we're gonna have any way of keeping this legit with the f**kin' lord of darkness in our midst, I'm outta here. This is a huge-ass godmod, but what f**kin' ever.

I'm gone.

ooc: alright alright hold on, Ive just now caught up on all this discussion, spending time on other nation.

Why not just say that this is Hoot before all of this other stuff happened, this is just some event that is from his past. I know this is partially my fault, I should have been more specific about modern/future/supernatural at the begining of this. But yes, I would like to keep this more modern, as in stuff that we would see today or tomorrow; without accounting for the occult.

But like I said first off, lets say this is a previous thing for Hoot. If not than we can work from there.

OOC:
WHAT JUST HAPPENED?. Now, I can't currently see Mercenary Soldiers posts, so it isn't clear exactly what happened - and it isn't clear that Mercenary Soldiers is innocent of any bloody stupidity. But:
Imitoria, the following were out of line:

Five years after his death, some scientists who disregarded the idea of an afterlife figure out away to bring Hoot back from the dead. And they do.
Resurection is NOT contemporary tech.

So what we know have is the prince of the underworld.
A pathetic and infantile powerplay.

And finally, what I consider the greatest of your crimes:
Before Darkwater could react
This is the equivalent of words in another characters mouth. That is arrogant, rude and disrespectfull of ALL the other authors on the thread. Please don't do anything like it again. Ever.

Imitora, I am sorry to lay into you in a public forum like this, and as I said, I cannot see Mercenary Soldiers' work, and he may be as guilty of all this as you are. But I do want to explain your mistakes to you, and why they have upset me.

IC content to follow shortly, once I have calmed down slightly.

Edit: Minor rephrasing.

IC:
Black lent against the doorframe, sipping port. There was an awfull lot of history in the parlour room. Pretty, but untimately useless. He had been a little surprised when the diamond deal had been raised. But Black was an incredible actor, and his face did what he told it too. No trace of his surprise showed.
That diamond was just like everything else in this parlor - pretty, but untimately useless. Ormand Rink, old school. More worried about appearances than effect. That said, the plan as it stood served his aims, and he was happy to make it work. Assuming they destroyed anything they didn't take from the treasury.
"Gentlemen" That voice, again. It was as though something about it was deliberately calculated to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. "Two hundred million to each of you, from a national treasury. A generous offer, I am sure you will agree."
He watched the bickering start, then stepped into the room. With the hand that wasn't resting ontop of a walking cane, he swept his cloak and coat back. That hand came to rest upon the grip of an ornate saber.
"You have now heard the suggestion. That means I am disinclined to let anyone leave this house. I am also disinclined to work with anyone who will not show a measure of restraint and decorum. Your host has explained what he expects. You will work together and acheave this for him, because the other options are somewhat less apealing."
Black released the saber, the cloak and coat fell back into place, then made to pick up the girls chain again.
"Have I made myself clear?"

He walked in, then sat down at the table. The girl followed behind him, then knelt beside his seat. There was something akward about the way she walked, she seemed injured or restrained in some way.
"Business then." Black was speaking once again. "We could fake it, but where is the sport in that?"
"I suggest the simple solution. Hit the treasury, grab the contents, grab the diamond and run like blazes. We should be out before any real backup turns up."
He ran his hand through the girls hair.
"Of course, some of you gentlemen may have more eligant ideas. Lets hear them."

As Ormand whispered it to him, Boris shook his head, and whispered back, "No, they don't, but that's how it is today. Barely anyone has any respect in this buisness. Now do you understand why I'm planning on retiring after this?" As he finished, Black came in, and, in the course of his speech, Boris actually found himself respecting the man. If the way he was responding now were in the way of his true beliefs, then he would of made a good ganster back in the old days.

But, of course, he could just be faking it, so Boris didn't allow himself to respect the man too much. "Well, actually, I believe that is the plan. We hit the diamond vault, steal it, and while their entire city responds, we simlpy walk into the treasury. The question is, how do we steal the diamond, and how do we pull off the treasury heist? Even without backup, the guards in both places have got to be pretty well armed and trained, and have got to have quite a few security systems working for them."

"Transport I can arange. For us, as many hired hands as nessesary, as as much extranious stuff as you feel the need for. I can probably even see to it that the armed response unit is delayed somewhat."
Black lent back in his seat, twisting the girls hair in his hand. Her face twisted in pain as he pulled upon her hair.
"I was thinking along the lines of the 'crowbar and sledgehammer' security bypass measures. I have many abilities, but a thorough knowledge of physical security systems is not one of them. Surely someone else is more informed than me?"

Swifty spoke up.

"I can take a stab at that one," He said. He looked at Rink as he said, "I suppose that there is a wide system of cameras with no blind sppots all around the building, a pleatherea of armed gaurds, all highly trained, perhaps a few automatic chainguns placed around the most precious items, and a laserbeam security system covering the entire building. I've done that kind of stuff before. Ah, yes, and there must be a vault, yes?"

He paused.

"If someone could give me a physical link into thier information bases, i could gain direct control over any security cameras. Perhaps i could disable or at least delay any alarms that way too, and mabey disable any lasers."

Another pause.

"I have never liked the 'Crowbar and slegehammer' style as Mr. Black suggested, but i can already guess that we will probably need explosives for this job. And mabey giuns. Alot of guns."

Swifty spoke up.

"I can take a stab at that one," He said. He looked at Rink as he said, "I suppose that there is a wide system of cameras with no blind sppots all around the building, a pleatherea of armed gaurds, all highly trained, perhaps a few automatic chainguns placed around the most precious items, and a laserbeam security system covering the entire building. I've done that kind of stuff before. Ah, yes, and there must be a vault, yes?"

He paused.

"If someone could give me a physical link into thier information bases, i could gain direct control over any security cameras. Perhaps i could disable or at least delay any alarms that way too, and mabey disable any lasers."

Another pause.

"I have never liked the 'Crowbar and slegehammer' style as Mr. Black suggested, but i can already guess that we will probably need explosives for this job. And mabey giuns. Alot of guns."

Black finished the last of his port.
"No Mr. Just Black. Guns? Explosives? Such things are doubledged swords. An old saying 'There is no such thing as friendly fire'. If we use explosives, we cannot be anywhere near the vault outselves, nor can the heavy transport machinery needed to empty the contents. The vault may also be structural. Break it too badly and the whole building could colapse. Surely there is a lock that can be disabled, a fire-exit that can be forced, a manager that can be blackmailed?"
He held the port glass up, obviously expecting a refill.
"Rink, the building plans if you may. They should help."

"Guns are only a double edged sword if you don't know how to use them. Same with explosives. I can blow the vault and be standing about ten feet away, and be fine. You gotta know the hardware. Maybe, ten pounds, at most, of some nice plastique, a few door blasters, and a cable or two, and we're good to go. I also gotta car, if you need a driver. Take me a day to get it here, along with the hardware, but its worth the wait. Just give me a list of everything ya'll are gonna need, I'll get it."

He continued to look over the plans, and wondered about security cammeras. "What about a flasher? Like a strobe light, flashes a real bright light, should fry most optical receivers. If we decide to go at night, and the use NV or IR cammeras, one flas and they're out for good. I'd prefer to go in the day, but thats just me."

OOC: I would explain my actions, defend my character, and what not, but its not worth starting an OOC argument, so I'll just drop it. But this cant happen in the past, seeing as Hoot (A complex character I've been using since day...three I think) enlisted at 16...So if you want a 15 year old running around, ok, but I would think not.

Swifty looked across the table at Hoot.

"Thats a good idea, Hoot. I hadn't thought of that one. I suppose that would be quite effective, no matter what cameras are installed in the building. But i do see one problem; how are we going to do that without alerting every gaurd in the entire meusame?"

He thought for a few seconds, then smiled.

"Idea. I've always wanted to try this one. What if we gas the building? Nerve gas would work. That takes out the gaurds, gives us enough time to disable any alarms or cameras, and may give us some extra time to crack the vault."

ooc: dont have time for a reply right now...either later tonight or in the morning. sorry

"Explosives aren't going to cut it here people. I don't know this for sure, but chances are, the alarms in that building are seismically activated. If you've seen Die Hard with a Vengeance, that's why the criminals were able to make the federal reserve shut down it's alarm, simply because the thing was going off non-stop. We try to blow the vault, the same thing will happen. That goes for either the treasury or the diamond vault..."

"Speaking of, you guys seem to be planning quite well for the diamond...who's going to be handling the treasury? I got the manpower to simply rush the place, yes, and I would be willing to do it, but somehow I doubt you guys trust me that much. Perhaps me and one other should work on how to take care of the treasury whilst the rest of you guys work on the diamond vault? Or are we not going to split up, and simply plan and execute both as a full team?" Boris was actually quite curious as to how the situation would work. As he saw it, the specialists needed to make a crack team to steal the diamond. Sending in thugs to steal it wouldn't work. They needed highly trained personel, who could slip in and slip out easily, only setting the alarms off as they left in order to get the local police scrambling. Also, the crack team needed to be able to hide their tracks and get out of the area easily..they probably would not be expendable.

On the other hand, the treasury was exactly what thugs were made to take care of. Once the cops were all at the vault, trying to track the crack team, the treasury building would be nearly unguarded. At this point, simply running in with machine guns, and maybe some explosives, might not hurt. And seeing as he was incharge of one of the worlds largest gangs, which was literally full of thugs, he would be able to provide those. Not to mention, he could simply get ride of these thugs without worrying about them...he had hundreds more to draw from. Totally expendable troops...very usefull at times.

"Yeah, but this isn't a movie, its real life."

Hoot looked at the man. He sized him up, and made some mental notes. The old timmers were all the same, wanting to do it with flair, class, and style. The game wasn't like that anymore, it was all smash, kill grab. Thats what Hoot was good at.

"If we need man power, I got 10 guys I can trust to get in on this. Served with them, they know their shit."

(Unfortunetly, I must drop out, due to school work. Thanks anyway though.)

ooc: I must appologize for my inactivity...Im sorry that this is slow going but i have extenuating personal things (ie getting messed up at the bar which i did tonight) and logging on with my other nation, which this is obviously a 'pawn' of.


IC:

Rink listened to the converasation between the men that he had invited to his house. What he heard made him relax a bit, while many of these people were 'young punks', there were also very smart bastards. Which made them very usefull in planning this heist.

"Swifty, I can get you anything you need." Ormand pushed a button on his remote and the screen showed an in depth picture of the buildings security. Guards rounds, and when they were timed out, were labbeled on the map. "This is the latest of what information I have, thanks to an inside source at the museum. Their security systems, I can give you. It is up to you all how you hit it. I will not be there, as much as I regret. I still long for the days that I would be in the middle of a hiest, but I am old and would only hinder your progress. Hell, if you even decide if its better to hit the vaults for your own money, and then hit the museum because security is away at the vault, than do it."


"You are all here because you are the best at what you do. Hoot, if you want to bring in others than I am in the position where I will trust your judgment. Though let it be clear that whatever profit they will make from the deal will be out of whatever your cut is."


Ormand smiled as Boris talked, the man was right and he knew his shit.

"Yes this is going to be quite delicate. In my opinion the diamond theft is going to be the most difficult. I realize that you may have some other people brought in to do the 'dirty work' but I want your most trusted people on the diamond.

"This is how it works out. The museum has its last tour of people at 9:30pm. Several of you will be on this tour. From what I have on my inside source, you will be able to arrange a private tour, which will allow you to take in the rare sights at your own leisure.(sp sorry). This is when you take the advangtage. Once the few of you are on the private tour, you will be able to overtake the guard and thusly be able to bring in the rest of the men. Swifty, and everyone for that matter, I will get to the specifics of the security around the diamond in a minute (ooc: when i have time to post tomorrow)"

"Whatever means you men deem necessary, I will fund." Ormand said bluntly. "Swifty I will work on getting you the specifics of their security systems. Mr. Black, and Mr. Hoot, since you both seem to be most knowelgable of these matters; the two of you shall be the lead point men on the job. I will look to the advice of the both of you for planning this out. Boris, you are my second hand man on this; you are their guardian since you have the most experience with these sort of matters. You will be the 'execuitve officer' so to speak. Gentlemen with the combined expertise of all of you, I feel assured that this will go off without a hitch."

ooc: sorry about this post, i will post tomorrow with a better response with all your suggestions.

Hoot watched the movements, then got an idea. He pulled a cellphone out of his pocket, dialed a number, then spoke briefly into the reciever. "Hey man. Yeah. Um, the usual. I'm thinking 100 a piece. Yeah, ok, see ya later." He slid the cell phone back into his pocket, and looked back at the map.

"No, the tour is a bad idea. Overtaking the gaurds is one thing, but doing it on tour, no weapons, gaurds looking over us, security still running. Its a bad idea. Get us killed just as fast. What we need to decide now is whats more important. Are we gonna go for the diamond, or the money? Once we figure this out, will be set."

"Both, technically comrade. But first, we will we going for the diamond, and then once stolen, and once the police respond, we will be going for the money. At least, that's how I interpreted how were doing this...dah, I could be wrong though. Why...do you have another plan?" Boris asked.

"Well, whats more important, the diamond or the money? I can get both just as easily, but it would be better not to split the cards. If we can concentrate on one area, then it would be easier. I say we stick with the money. Send some minor underlings in, make them look all scary, and screw what happens otherwise. After all, legacy dont mean shit compared to real hard cash."

He paused, looked over the map, and then at his cell phone. "This way, I can take my guys, we go into the treasury, grab the cash, then meet at the redezvous. And I think I gota way to make sure we get our due share of money."

He looked at Rink. "Can you get me one of thsoe for the treasury, up to the minute, prefrably, live action?"

OOC:Sorry Anandan but you weren't using it.
IC:
Kazuma smirked. It was really too simple to play these guys against each other. All he had to do was create a doppleganger to go with Hoot's crew and himself go after the Legacy. He didn't really need any of these fools just his spirits and his Soul sword. However he also needed to keep his energy low with Them looking for him. Maybe he shouldn't have stolen that last gem or killed all those people. Oh,well... So he needed to go and make preperations for the job, he'd just cast a general 'Old Man' rune upon the whole room in order to keep tabs on things. Man this job should be easy. His smirk deepened and he just disappeared.