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Post by Joker on Nov 7, 2006 22:19:49 GMT
Once you get past the small mountains in black suits that stop entrance to those not seen to be worthy, the red lights and poles with women on them indicate this is not somewhere to make trouble.
Owned and run by the Mafia, the Good Times has a large bar, strip club and gambling den out front, with private cubicles out back for business or pleasure, depending on your preferences.
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Post by Nate on Nov 16, 2006 22:04:35 GMT
Nate approched the doors. One of the bouncers eyed him a little, but he wore a suit, and was alone so they assumed he was after pleasure.
He walked in without any problems and joined the small line at the bar.
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Post by Joker on Nov 16, 2006 22:14:16 GMT
Strolling down the street outside, Joker stopped outside Good Times. Slapping one bouncer on the shoulder, and giving him a typical homie handshake, he wandered into the club, recognised by a few people inside who waved vaguely to him.
As he sauntered past the bar, eyeing the girls on display, he smirked slightly and ditched his rucksack under one table, taking a seat beside it.
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Post by Nate on Nov 16, 2006 22:21:00 GMT
Nate's eyes shot directly to the guy entering. He was the type Nate would normally beat on for causing trouble, maybe this one could help. He seemed to have contacts.
Finally Nate got served, a beer which was the strongest smelling Nate'd ever smelt. The Vigilante walked over to the table.
He sat down without a greeting or a smile. He just stared coldly at his opposite.
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Post by Joker on Nov 16, 2006 22:26:00 GMT
Nodding to the man that joined him, Joker raised a hand to the stranger, meaning for him to wait a minute. The graf writer returned to whispering in a waitress's ear, who was draped over his shoulders, then she left with a little grin on her face.
"Yeah, hey, sorry bout that, you know how it is." Joker laughed with a light cough, the cold from outside biting into his lungs. "So, what you want? I don't know your face."
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Post by Nate on Nov 16, 2006 22:38:42 GMT
"I don't like you, I don't like your kind. This city holds even less of my respect than you do. All I want from you, is information. I'm gunna clean up this side of the Fence, albeit on my own or with an army." Nate leaned forward slightly.
"So," He said with narrow eyes and a sneer on his face,"Where's your 'possy'?"
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Post by Joker on Nov 16, 2006 22:43:36 GMT
"My kind are the only thing the Spiral got going for them. And you're one to talk about kinds, you look like just another heavy to be showing so much ideals." Joker matched the sneer and glare with one of his own, his good mood soured by the man's words. He didn't move back an inch when Nate moved forwards.
"And I don't need a posse. You obviously don't know who I am - what my name is, you piece of white trash shit."
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Post by Nate on Nov 16, 2006 22:49:34 GMT
Nate almost dived across the table, somehow some inner strength stopped him.
The sneer was gone.
Nate sat back and lifted his drink. "To the Spiral." He said and took half of it down.
He lifted it again.
"And to the .45 gun I have with me, it hates racists..." He added slyly.
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Post by Joker on Nov 16, 2006 22:57:28 GMT
"Something me and your gun have in common, then. I take it back, you might be another heavy, but you ain't white trash. Too smart, although that ain't hard." Taking a beer bottle from a passing waitress, he raised it sardonically to Nate. "To all my kind."
Downing a deep draft from it, he grinned to Nate. "You still don't know who I am, do you? You know my name, but have never seen my face." He lifted the red bandanna he had lowered from his mouth to hang around his neck. "People generally don't."
The hand was outstretched, and he looked straight into the brash stranger's eyes, almost daring him to shake it. "You might have seen my name around the place, on walls possibly. You can call me Joker."
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Post by Nate on Nov 16, 2006 23:00:51 GMT
Nate took the 'Joker's' hand. He shook it briefly but firmly, as if closing a business deal.
Their eyes remained locked, each staring daggers at the other.
"Tell me, where's the roughest street around."
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Post by Joker on Nov 16, 2006 23:05:42 GMT
Letting his hand fall back to the table, Joker shook his head slowly - not letting his gaze remove itself from Nate however. "You're a cocky one, I'll give you that."
With a slightly worried grin, he shrugged. "I'm a writer, not a fighter, but everyone knows that Blood Row is where that kinda shit goes down - Retter Boulevard. If you want to beat on someone, try the Fight Cage, you can't miss it - it's where the bloodied people are coming from."
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Post by Nate on Nov 16, 2006 23:06:55 GMT
"My sorta place. Take me." He said simply finishing his drink.
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Post by Joker on Nov 16, 2006 23:11:02 GMT
Downing the last of the beer, Joker nodded slowly, finally breaking the gaze when he handed it to another scantily clad waitress, winking saucily at her. "Sure, I'm not doing anything else."
Standing, he headed for the door, nodding to the odd person that recognised the non-disguised graf artist.
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Post by Nate on Nov 17, 2006 21:14:09 GMT
Nate stood up and followed.
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