Benjamin Dullahan's Story

Benjamin leaned back, eyebrow raised. "They didn't get the gang symbols. Interesting. We should be able to get some members this way..." The President hastily added, he'd have to keep a tighter reign on his members, he couldn't afford the police coming and raiding this clubhouse just yet. They'd know what to look for if they did.

The biker ran a finger around the circle of his mug and put it down. "Make sure you unmark the bills and stuff the rest of the stuff into the meeting room, we'll find somewhere there. I repeat, do not sue marked bills, Renny. It'll lead straight to us, and on a future expedition, use a hoodie covering your cut, or take the damn thing off." Ben said, with a slight intone of anger.

Nodding, she smirked, "Aye benny, but sometimes bibe jist gotta show 'erself, yer nu. but you're de chief or 'eadbombadare whatever, oi 'ill chucker dis as for de nicker, naw 'assle oi tink yer best spake ter evianna, she ate someone alive in public..." finishing her whisky, she went back to fidgeting with her medallion appearing absolutely lost in focus, before saying, "We nade sum sort av gym yer nu, oi want ter git back ter teachin' de members sum skills in de rin'. as for legitimate, oi suppose we cud try be recognized as boxin' venue, dat wud gie de chicken's blow an' dat means we cud also buff up our groop."

Benjamin would talk to Evianna about eating someone alive. In public. "I'll work on that." Benjamin got up and started to walk to his room, adjusting his cut. "I'm going to go sort some shit out." The biker said, grumbling. "Have a good one, Scream. I'm going to go about fixing the stuff that needs fixing, remember to get people to meet. Tell them."

Benjamin disappeared into his room.

"Your words are full of falsities and sarcasm," Kaine immediately replied to Frederic. "But your patronizing tone suits you well, snake; it is only too bad that behind your forked tongue you lack the wisdom to speak among generals. You would truly have us war against everyone not part of us? It would be a brave move, but incredibly foolish, and for it we would suffer more than a smarter man would have us suffer."

"I am not accusing any of treason, what I am doing is making a point. As I said before," he spoke, turning to the others as he did so, "until we find the face of the enemy, assume that they are among us. You would be wise to question those you do not trust and to keep your allies close at hand. But do we descend into absolute paranoia? Absolutely not. As Alexander said, this tactic, assuming it is true - and I do - relies on each one of us being paranoid and distrusting of everyone else. So how do we defeat it? It's simple: you must find someone you can all trust. Whether he is present or elsewhere, man or woman, vampire, werewolf, or even human, it does not matter. What matters is that each of you here trust him completely, and that he is intelligent. Very intelligent. And we name him the lead investigator into this incident, and we let him be paranoid for us, let him decide who each of us trusts and is suspicious of. And then, friends, the enemy that tries to sew the seeds of anarchy against us will fall, because he must not simply contend in a free-for-all battle of wits, but hide in a united force where inevitably, he will reveal himself. And if he is not one of us, we will have nothing to fear or to lose."

Kaine looked around him, then took a step away from the table. "I would name Casren to be such a man we can trust, but apparently he is missing. Still, it is not up to me to decide, I am here only to offer advice. I have said everything I need to say here, so I will take my leave. Daemala, are you coming?"

He looked at her, but his eyes spoke different words than his mouth. They said "don't", or, if you were to look into it a little deeper, "be my eyes and ears here."

Daemala and Zosimos listened, her with wide eyes and his lids lax. At the end of the deliveries, Zosimos turned his eyes to Daemala. The woman cowered under the sudden attention, her shoulders stiffening downward and her expression that of a doe. Her gaze was locked with Kaine's. Should she go, or should she stay? Zosimos's mouth twitched at the dilemma. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interjected.

"It's best I stay," Daemala shot a look towards Zosimos, then to Frederic, lastly Alexander, "For Casren's sake." She folded her hands into her lap and looked at them. Daemala would not say more on the matter.

"Well then," Zosimos pursed his lips and smiled around the room. "What does anyone propose we do next, exactly? We're already negotiating with the Invictus, for those of you who don't know," Daemala's eyes had gone wide; Zosimos's grin grew, "About the future of Terra! A fine planet is she, but a conflicted one. We're to take an active hand in it's solution no doubt. Could this be the cause for this...Group, that may or may not be a facade for someone who may or may not be closely associated with us, to come after us? What is the reasoning behind the sigil? We must know."

Zosimos rapped the table hard.

"We must deal with these rings, first and foremost! They are the only," He nodded to Alexander, "Physical evidence we have as it stands. So they want to trap us in a nerve loop? So they want to shake us? So be it. We must not submit to acts of terror!" Zosimos looked to Frederic now.

"Agents and spies, let's avoid assassinations if we can," Manik Chakor faded in from the shadows placing a hand on the table. He had been watching and listening, and finally had something to say. "I agree our force must be stronger. You say we are to rule Terra, Greek?" Manik shot a bloodshot squint in Zosimos's direction. "I say you can put whatever crown you'd like on that head, I work for no King who can't cross a sea, lest defend his own." It was here Manik glared at Daemala, who huffed. She was not a King, she was a Queen, and the spot wasn't hers yet. She gestured to Kat-Lyn Ember Rose.

"We have a navy now child," Daemala remarked, "If you're interested in crossing seas." With a roll of her eyes and a shake of her shoulders, she received the nastiest of glares from Manik. A hiss faded on the tip of his tongue, Zosimos raising a brow at the would-be confrontation.

"Well, if we can't even handle our shit..." Zosimos let a hand fall out to the side, and looked to Frederic, then Alexander. He gave one of Casren's signature sighs and let his eyes come to rest on Ana Maria.

"These rings... What do you know?"

The room filled with vampires and none yet the wiser of what was to come as a dark presence filled the room with what soon followed to be a rather handsome Drow in finery of red and white. The noble elf simply gripped the head of his rather strange cane only to tap the butt of it twice upon the ground and cleared his throat as he approached the vampires and their comrades only to offer a fiendish grin and a mock bow. "I am Lord Baenval and though I wish not to interrupt such fine business as this I feel as if it is my sworn duty to do as such."

A lone motorbike that was painted black with numerous green symbols painted on the side was parked up on one of the spaces behind the beach, a shotgun was leaning against it. A tall figure squatted on the beach with a smoke in it's hands. The figure was the leader of the newly instated club of the Gae Ceann; a gang of bikers with almost zilch to lose.

Benjamin stood up and took a deep breath of smoke, frowning at the waves.

On the breeze carried the faintest of hums. Was it a melody, or was it a rhythm? Either way, it sounded as if it was getting closer...

No sooner had it begun than it was upon the ears of Dullahan as if whispered from behind. It was then, just a kick off from shore, the sea began to churn. A wave boiling unto itself while rolling towards the stretches of sand. The wind itself sighed, hum dying on the tide as it crashed to the Astral's shore. No sooner was the spray settled than a biker came crashing through the mist. Screams of his engine took place of that hum. Ridiculous pipes capped in steaming skulls glared sparks as the rider tore the bike to a stop. As if on cue, the wave settled behind him and ran across his heavily buckled boots.

The rider removed his helmet on the dismount, bike secure in the sand where it was. Casually tossing his helmet in the drier sand, he ignored where it landed and directed his attention for Benjamin.

"Spare me?" His voice was higher than normal, like a girl's or a prepubescent male's. Shaking his, or her, hair back the person grinned at the Gae Ceann leader. Piercings clicked across his, or her, teeth in the process.

Benjamin took out the packet of smokes from his leather jacket and held it over to Rayan. "Doyle." The leader said, turning his head towards them and sitting down on the beach with his knees up. "What brings you up here? Keepin' an eye on me?" The biker added, eyes returning back to the waves.

He came up here to think, plot and debate with the plans he had in store. Jack had been the only one who'd known that, being close friends. Jack has loose lips, apparently. Great, he hoped that she, or he was the only one who knew about it.

"Poppin' for a visit," Doyle snatched up a smoke, slipping one out and inhaling. Though it was never lit, the cig was burning. The exhale carried on the wind.

"Hear abou' Stretch Races?" Shooting a sidelong look at Benjamin, Rayan Doyle settled down onto the beach. The pack was tossed back.

Benjamin caught in and put it back in his jacket. "Street races? Yeah. Only some of our members can get involved though, Harleys ain't meant for that treatment... Scream might do it if you broached it to her. I think I'll settle for those donation rallys when we get enough members to roll though main street on our bikes." Benjamin said, grinning and taking another drag.

"Doyle, I meant to ask, you been in any clubs before this one?"

"Stretch, not street," Doyle shook his head and emphasized, grinning wider.

"Clubs, eh? Expectin' the past to come creepin'?" The cigarette burned, "Stretch, a place across the other seas, where the rocks are the roads an' the roads are the rocks."

Rayan took another puff. "'Sup, clubs?"

"Oh. Sounds interesting. I'll have to check it out." Benjamin replied, shaking his head at his foolishness.

"I expect a lot than the past, having a bit of trouble with WCPD lately, we need to scare them, make them think twice about fucking with us. Cut off some heads and mount em' outside their building will be a fine tactic." Benjamin took another puff

"You prepared to fight the law, Doyle?"

Doyle looked to the sky, grin frozen in place but somehow less enthusiastic than before. The WCPD were law in Wing City, that was for sure as of late. Couldn't remember exactly when it happened, for it was often Doyle took trips elsewhere. Looking out towards the sea, Doyle imagined the great Wing City. Imagined scenes of cops swarming car bombs, dirty bars and shady deals, beautiful fountains stained with blood. Glass towers pierced the clouds, deflating the dreams of the abandoned slums below.

"'Course," Rayan was prepared to fight the law as good as any good Gae Ceann, "But what've the lawless lands?"

Still staring over the horizon, Doyle dragged from the cigarette one last time.

"Fuck em'. We'll move on them once we control wing city, otherwise we'll find ourselves IN the lawless lands. Who the fuck says lawless lands anyway?" Benjamin said, eying Doyle with a mocking smile. "Remember. We need a place to stay, I don't care if you guys go out on your own, but we're weak now, like an infant. I need everyone to be there for everyone else." Benjamin said, patting her, or him on the back.

"Cheer up, we're not going to be fighting forever. Just for now."

Smoke curled in a wisp from the hiss of an extinguished cigarette. Truths had been spoken. Rayan chucked at word infant.

"So tell me 'bout this Vernot place."

The clubhouse shook with rock music, the clubhouse filled with bikers celebrating and drinking to their brothers in arms and a few ladies of the night sat on more than a few laps, today was an important day. The induction of a new member, a plain leather jacket was over a key and a figure hunched over the counter, checking the clock mounted on the wall.

Benjamin looked away from the clock and checked he had the name correct on the white patches, putting them away and taking a gulp of whiskey.

The event going on inside the clubhouse was getting louder by the minute. The motorcycle swinging from the chains started to shake from the amount of people walking, dancing and moving inside the building. Benjamin turned to face the door, heading towards the bouncer and snatching open the door when he heard the slight scuffle of words outside.

"Oi. No shit on club grounds, she's about to be one of us, Frank." Benjamin said, holding the door open and pointing an arm inside for Awiti, smiling. The president smelt like dead bodies, sweat and bad deodorant.

"Everything's prepared, take a seat at the bar."

Benjamin closed the door, turning around to face Awiti and snatching up the nearby leather jacket, pulling the patches off it and stuffing them down his pockets, taking the ones stitched with the white crocodiles name and rank. The President walked over to Awiti and got into a seat, holding out the jacket.

"Welcome to the Gae Ceann, Awiti. I'm Benjamin." Benjamin pointed to his rank, attributing him to be leader of the club of motorcycle riding rebels. "That your full name?"

Benjamin grinned. He mistook her denial of giving her own name to him as smart, you woudn't give someone like him your name. The biker took a seat next to her and kicked his legs up on the counter. "This. Enjoy, take a look. It's welcoming you to the club." Benjamin added, leaning back and taking a quick swig of whiskey.

"What's with the bandana?"