Making Connections [Fangor's crew][X]

[Rozumbrad]

Rozumbrad looked around the area. Rather unimpressive really.

He had been sent there by Macavity himself (Which practically gave him an orgasm to be given a direct order from his god). He was to meet Fangor, and his gang. They were told to him to be important connections in his work, so he had to get to know them, and become one of them.

Easier said than done, since on the whole those who worked for Macavity weren't prone to being trusting or trustworthy. Nevertheless, a direct order from above should break some ice, or at least move it to the side where the frostiness could be hidden from view.

Now if only he could find him.

[Chris]

"Shite," Chris swore as he ran, wriggling into his shirt as he moved, normally the bag that would sit behind his shoulders slung around his waist as he balanced it out. He'd gone so fast he hadn't even managed to tell Kitrina where he was going, nor process the look on her face when he said, "Not now, love." But now, shirt on, he lowered his arms to the bag, pulling it up to readjust, wrist turning over to study his watch.

Miraculously not late?

He slowed, panting hard at first, before tapping the face. That was... odd. He swore that he was more than an hour behind but now it seemed as if he was early?

Maybe he misread the time at home...

A part of him felt bad then about leaving his mate behind so abruptly; it would have been a nice day for a walk, really. A nice day for--

His nose picked up the scent first, then he picked out the cat. One he'd never seen before.

A smile came to his face, though he'd remained guarded. "Hello," he greeted, accent not too terribly heavy that morning though enough to indicate he was from the north. "You come from..?"

[Rozumbrad]

"Huh?" Rozumbrad said, turning to loot at the new arrival.

"Nowhere, really," he answered. "I'm here to meet Fangor."

[Chris]

Chris's eyes widened a moment before he walked before the other. "Where is it?" he asked, the friendly demeanor from before morphing into professionalism, or at least Fangor's version. The 'It' he referred to was proof, either the M-brand, or some other sort of identification. Fangor's name was known enough, and if they weren't careful...

[Rozumbrad]

Rozumbrad sighed. It really could get quite tiresome.

He turned around, lifting the back of his waistcoat (he wasn't wearing a shirt under it that day) and showing the M scarred above his tail.

[Chris]

And the professionalism dropped. "He'll be here any time. Or well, should be. I thought I was running late." A warm smile graced his features as he sat down, back to the wall, pulling off his bag before he opened it. "Want anything to eat? I don't have too much, but I think Fangor's having a bonfire tonight. I hope so. He knows the best way to do rats. I really need to learn how to do that so I can impress the Missis."

A hand was extended upward from where Chris resituated himself. "They call me Chris here. What do they call you?"

[Rozumbrad]

"I'm Rozumbrad," Rozumbrad said. He was rather wary of this tom. A little too bright. He didn't seem to fit in. Fangor was reputedly one of the most ruthless around. How as this chirping boy involved?

"Missus?" he inquired.

[Chris]

"Mhm, the Missis," he said, accentuating the "is" sound, something with regional dialect. "Well, we're not married or anything, yet, but she's the best girl you'd see in your life. So much spark, really, but she's American so I think she was bred with it. Sweetest thing ever, too, you wouldn't believe." He continued to riffle through his bag before pulling out a bag of wrapped meat, deli slices of turkey he'd swiped from the counter when his family got distracted by the kids. Tearing it in half, he chewed some, the other extended to Rozumbrad.

"Do you have a Missis or Sir at home? I'm lucky this one's around here. Probably waiting for me."

Sweet-faced, friendly. Really not the type to fit in.

[Rozumbrad]

He hesitated for a moment, before giving in and accepting some meat.

"No one," Rozumbrad said. "Always found it was never a good idea to gain a weakness."

He realised part of what Chris had said. "A Sir? Not usually an option."

[Chris]

"Why not?" Chris asked, a shrug of his shoulders given. "I figure whatever makes you happiest is what really matters, isn't it? I'm not queer, but it makes sense to me." His head cocked to the side a bit curiously as he studied the other. "Fangor's a good guy. Real good guy. Always been fair to me."

Just about anyone might question Chris's sanity with a comment like that.

[Rozumbrad]

For Rozumbrad, it was whatever worked more to his advantage.

"Good is not exactly part of his reputation," Brad pointed out. "In fact, I wouldn't be here if it was."

[Fangor]

“Would you mind not talking off every single cat you meet’s ear off?” the low snarl of Fangor came, rolling in almost like thunder as he walked in, white leather pants a bit dirtied, just like the open white leather vest. Besides him was a pathetic and whimpering cat, one bound up with rope. “This one was attempting to thieve from hut one.”

He shoved the cat to the ground before he walked in front of Rozumbrad, sizing the other up. “I’m assuming you’re looking for me,” he said, although there was no need. He’d heard every last word.

[Rozumbrad]

"Yes," Rozumbrad said simply. "Macavity sent me to meet you."

He ignored the bound cat. This was certainly more like it.

[Chris]

Chris wasted no time: there was no stall, no anything, really. The bag was left on the ground as he leapt to his feet, fur rising on the back of his neck, tail becoming thicker with the growl that surfaced. The sniveling excuse of a cat tried to scramble, to run despite the binding, but didn't even make five steps as Chris's arms encircled the other, claws burying deep in the cat's shoulders before dragging the cat around another corner. Out of sight no one could hear anything except the other cat's screams.

[Rozumbrad]

Rozumbrad watched that with a surprised expression.

"That seemed rather out of character."

[Fangor]

"Usually he tells me before sending cats over," Fangor said, not accusatory but more matter of fact, ignoring the screams for the moment. "He's near due for a visit." A tongue ran over his lips in thought. "What strengths do you have, Brad?"

Listening to a particularly painful-sounding scream, Fangor shook his head. "Didn't imagine that Chris had it in him, did you? He's one of the best I've had." His head shook. "He surprises a lot of cats, but I assure you it's not out of character for him. He's very loyal. Alarming?"

[Rozumbrad]

"I prefer to know who the psychotics are before they dismember someone," he admitted. "Although he did seem rather unstable to begin with."

"Strengths, hmm," Rozumbrad pondered, deciding to be mildly condescending by crossing his arms, letting the bare muscles ripple. "I suppose it's more of a lack of weaknesses, and versatility."

[Fangor]

"Word to the wise: don't get on Chris's bad side, although that's very hard to do, I can tell you that much. You roll a bit with us, don't pull anything funny, you'll be safe. Try some stupid shit, and well..." He gestured with his head toward the alley that Chris disappeared down. "Self-explanatory."

And then there was the tone, and the cockiness that accompanied it.

Fangor merely yawned.

"Right, because that answer clearly hasn't been said by every other street cat. Every cat has one, or two, areas of absolute speciality. I'm not interested in a Jack of all trades but master of none."

[Rozumbrad]

"Well, mainly I've been beating people up lately," Rozumbrad said. "I did start out as a simple goon, and survived," he pointed out. "I can't count how many strong toms I've given their last breath because they displeased the boss. I've never lost."

He paused for a moment. "Oh, and I'm good in the sack."

[Fangor]

Fangor couldn't help but laugh with the last part, and laugh hard, head shaking a little. "Well, in that case." A smirk played on his lips before he gestured for the other to follow. "Come. We'll drink and dine. Chris will meet up with us at some point, undoubtedly." Though he still hung on the previous words. "Never lost. That's impressive."

[Rozumbrad]

"I hope you don't intend to get me drunk and take advantage of me," Rozumbrad said mildly as he followed.

"Never lost. Had some close calls, but I always came out on top."

[Fangor]

"Why would I go to the trouble of getting you drunk?" Fangor simply asked, negating the intent of the question, or the concern. If Fangor wanted something, he got it--end of story. There was no question about it. "Close calls happen, but the end result is what's important. I don't like losers."

He climbed up over a bin, then fence. The aroma of smoke and cooking meat was almost overwhelming, enough for Fangor to start salivating.

[Rozumbrad]

Brad followed Fangor over, mood perking at the prospect of good food.
"The main thing is getting my waistcoat out intact," he said. "Can't go letting ruffians spoil my finery."

[Fangor]

"Point taken," Fangor said, although his own attire was dirtied up as he gestured toward the pit fire that was made. "Make yourself comfortable." He scanned the group that had assembled. "More will come."

[Rozumbrad]

"Should be a right shin-dig," Brad said dryly.

"I suppose I did it wrong before," He commented, sitting down. "I showed my proof without asking to see his."

[Fangor]

"If you did that, you'd probably be dead. Or he'd start crying and causing a fuss about not being trusted." A deeper grunt was given.

[Kitrina]

It was then that Kitrina approached, albeit wary, in a skirt and halter top, one she hadn't wanted to wear but Chris was insistent. Had to look nice for 'the guys.' No eyesores allowed.

Sometimes she wanted to punch him for comments like that, but that usually passed quickly.

[Chris]

Chris joined the cats in the alley after a few more minutes, using a rag from his bag to wipe the excess blood from his stained paws. He seemed a little bit quieter, or at least calmer, than he was only a few minutes ago.

"Won't be having a problem with him anymore," Chris called before sniffing the air, face lighting up. She was here? Immediately, he trotted toward the scent, simply beaming. "You came," he murmured with delight, though he had no doubt she'd be there. She was always there, always waiting for him, and he'd gotten dependent on that consistency. He smiled, closed-lipped, before embracing the queen and nuzzling her shoulder absolutely dotingly. A few licks were given to her neck, check, and ear before he kissed her lips sweetly, looking anything but the cat who, moments before, was slaughtering an unfortunate soul who got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Fairly quietly, maybe seeming even shy and bashful, he turned his body partly toward Rozumbrad. "This is my girl, Coalie. I love this bitch more than anything."

[banshee]

Banshee hated being new. Being green. But it was necessary, and although the M carved on the inside of her thigh had only recently begun to scab over, she felt like she was a part of the gang. And Banshee liked being part of a gang. It made her feel like she had family, like she was safe, and protected. And true, she'd prefer to be her own boss, but having someone tell her to go out and fuck someone up was a nice way to start the day.

Dressed in her usual outfit and looking a British dandy (navy blue frock coat, white button down, vest, skinny khaki pants, and boots) she maneuvered her way towards the sound and smell of other cats. She was bored, and being a fairly new initiate, had nothing to do at the moment.

So she had to look for trouble.

Poking her head into view, she narrowed her eyes and curled her lips into a smirk, waving lazily at the assembled cats below her. The smell of blood was hot and delicious in the air and she savored it before addressing the masses below her.

"Well-" she began in her mild Scottish accent, "Wha' do we have here?"

[Rozumbrad]

Rozumbrad watched Chris with the new queen. Definitely a strange one that one.

"Hello Miss," he greeted her. He wondered how she was gong to be. Normal, or which type of insane.