Ric was lost in thought at Jennifer's reaction to the Moonshine.  It definitely not the reaction she should have had.  It was a lot farther from the reaction he wanted her to have.  But then that jackass Ken had to say something stupid about small baggies and jump to his feet like he was the Rock or something.

This in turn caused Ric to react in the most natural way possible.  He ALSO lept to his feet, kicking the chair he was seated on out from behind him.  "Sit your ass back down 'for you get yourself hurt comin' at me like that!"  Ric was just as shocked at his response as he was at Ken coming at him like he did.

Both hands gripped the edge of the table and Ric leaned forward.  "You know what cocksucker?  Fuck you and YOUR piece of shit rice burner you rode in on.  That's assuming you got one.  So far all I seen is you riding bitch!"

Oh shit...

"In fact, all I seen so far tonight is you being a bitch.  You dumb fuck piece of shit, if your problems with Eve were that bad you should'a finished her off instead of high tailing it!  I'm a result of that night and for the record, neither one of you can shoot for shit.  I was fucking drunk with two left feet and was still ducking and dodging better then you was shooting, and goddamn son, you had a fucking 12 gauge!"  Pissed, Ric snarled (it was an unconscious action) and leaned on the table some more.  "Now I come up in here all in good faith.  Within the first five minutes, I done said I don't know what the problem 'tween you and Eve is, it doesn't concern me none, and I even went so fuckin' far as to thank y'all, and what I get for it?  WHAT I GIT FOR IT?"

Ric grit his teeth, grinding them together to keep from turning into a Frenzy.  "I get the weak link in this fuckin' chain talkin' some stupid bullshit about puttin' me down?  And this young lady right here--" Ric paused, using both hands to point out Jennifer.  He even directed his words at her for just a second.  "And I apologize for being an asshole right now, but that Moonshine you just turned your nose up to is about as close to pure alcohol that anyone can drink, and that little flask you just put down is fifty dollar bottle.  It's easier to make, easier to ship, stays off the DEA radar longer, and since, yanno, we're right down the road from a major university, is a big ass cash cow just waiting to happen--!"

Ric pointedly turned back towards Ken.  "I got two fuckin' words for you, pretty boy.  Fight.  Club." Orric enunciated the last two words for impact.  He continued to glare.  Finally he let out a sigh and reached down to swipe his hat off the floor.  "Fuck it.  I'mma go talk to that hot Asian chick.  She at least looks like she got a clue, and even if she doesn't, I just watched her swipe four or five grand from the table, so at least she's more fun."

Ken went wide eyed and nearly came over the table at Ric, but he held his spot in his chair while the neonate ranted. Clearly, cooler heads were prevailing at the moment. While he looked like he was ready to try to tear Ric a new asshole he just grit his teeth and glowered up at the big redneck.

Gordon stopped in mid sentence to watch the altercation. Caetano was forgotten for the moment. The asian turned on her heels and watched intently.

Before Ric could leave though there was the sudden, unmistakable feeling of something metal poking him in his hip. Looking down he seen quite clearly the barrel of a shotgun.

"Hey, Dickhead, I'm the one that does the shooting. Ken drives. The rice burner was mine. You'd know that if you had bothered to ask your sire fuck all before coming out here to run off at the jaws. So, sit down, before I splatter your cock and pelvis on the wall behind you." Chris looked up at Ric with a stern glare. It was Ken's turn to smirk. "You came to our domain, to our party, and being anything but the most gracious of motherfucking guests at all times is all the reason we need to bounce you. So calm your tits, and sit down." The shotgun backed off just a bit, but Ric could still see it and see that it was still aimed at his lower half. It wouldn't kill him, but he could probably hang up walking for the rest of the night.

Jennifer looked from Ken to Chris and back to Rick. She was worried. Everyone else was frozen, watching what would happen next.

HOLY SHIT! Was the first thing that popped in Lillian’s head when the big redneck started popping off at the mouth. He can’t be that fucking stupid, she thought to herself. Not one for being all courteous herself, even she knew what he was doing was enough to get himself a gun to the head, a knife to the gut or back, or even a suntan. Lillian just stood back and watched the show running a hand through her hair to push it back out of her eyes. The next few minutes were sure to be entertaining to say the least.

Caetano shifted on the coach involuntarily moving a bits off the way of Ken Chris and Ric should they jump at each other, which he hoped they didn't, and wondered what in the seven hells could have made Ric go at them guys as he had... 'and what if Jennifer did not like that drink ?. They could not eat or drink anyhow, and if it was a matter of business as the man was saying, then what the fuck did it matter whether they liked it or not ?.'

'Pride was such a useless thing, and it was put onto the weirdest things... a liquor of all things ??'. He stretched out his hand to pick up the dropped bottle and smell it. Before tasting it though, he made an offer to Ken and Chris in case they wanted to check the thing for themselves and that it might ease the tension somehow... that the guy would have gone so crazy about the liquor had definitely picked on his curiosity.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:08, Sun 24 Mar 2013.

Ric had ignored Chris.  He ignored the shotgun too.  Orric's eyes, a near bloodshot mass of fury, hatred, and rage were locked on Ken.  Orric did all of this because there was something SEETHING right behind his eyes burning a hole in his brain, just under the skin, and right behind fingernails, that in this state, were often used as claws.  Odium.

Or to those who didn't know what a Brujah on the brink of an anger frenzy was, tunnel vision.  It was the second poke of the shotgun, Chris saying something, and Ken (in spite of the smirk on his face) sinking back down to his seat that caused Ric to finally realize there was in fact, a shotgun pointed at him.  His expression rapidly changed.

Orric was still pissed off (Duh!) but his eyes darted between Jennifer (still in Chris's lap), Chris (who was now holding Jennifer and a shotgun), and the shotgun.  Somehow in a split second, the impossible had happened.  Somehow Chris had picked up (or was handed) a shotgun, he was able to put it in a key location, and he was able to do it all without a squeak from Jennifer.  Nobody was THAT fast.  Or was Ric a lot closer to the edge of that Frenzy then even he had realized?  His expression slowly turned to that of a dog's.  To those who understood, Ric's expression on his face closely resembled the dog that had been tricked by a smart ass person into chasing after a tennis ball that was never actually thrown.

Then all at once FULL STOP!!!  AIR BRAKES!!!  CHOKE CHAIN!!!

Nope.  The monster wanted no parts of the business end of a shotgun.  Just like that it went back to it's cage.  "Right.  Yeah.  That would suck."  It was a statement in reference to having pieces of himself splattered on onto, into, and threw whatever was behind him.  Turning a bit, Ric reached for the chair he had kicked behind him.  I'm good.  I think." He flopped down on the seat again, sort of huffing and puffing, just a reaction to adrenaline wearing off.  He did eyeball Caetano for a second though as the hippie picked up his flask.

Ric avoided looking at Ken for just this minute too.  "That ain't the first time that happened.  Eve said it happens a lot though.  Getting so burning mad that all I wanna do is tear something up just because I can.  I ain't normally like that, or at least I wasn't before.  But now...now I don't know when it's coming or how to keep it from boiling out." He looked at Chris, the shotgun, and Chris again.  "But I'm good now." He paused.  "So since it's so damn important, what's an Archon?" Ric put his hat back on and stretched out in the chair with his feet forward and crossed at the ankles.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:06, Sun 24 Mar 2013.

Chris propped the shotgun back up between himself and Ken with his left arm, barrel down. He had been one arming it. It wouldn't have

Ric's explanation was enough for them. The both nodded like they understood completely. The Asian returned to the table and sat down again, but she still didn't say anything. Ken and Chris looked at each other, had a silent conversation and then Jennifer slid out of Chris' lap and moved off for a bit, sensing that there was about to be some real talk at the table.

Ken finally spoke and pushed the bowl across the table with his right hand until it rested in front of Ric. With his left he took the flask and took a sip from it. "Smooth. I like that, if I drank anymore that would be awesome." He swallowed it and passed it to Chris.

Chris set it on the table in front of him and started talking, "Archons are a cross between Navy SEALS and FBI. Super cops or whatever you want to call them." He waved the whole thing off dismissively. "We've got a bit of a reputation for causing problems when people start trying to sweat us for no reason and your Sire, who was in our crew, hell she was fucking Ken and been for years..." Ken made a face and sunk down in his chair a bit. "Your Sire got picked up by an Archon a few years ago, and to save her ass she sold us out."

The Asian woman rolled her eyes and sighed then she spoke and all eyes were on her, "You idiot. Eve ran with you guys for decades. You really think she narced you out? Why? To save her own ass?" She didn't wait for him or Ken to respond and turned to Ric, "You want to know what happened find me." She stood up and left.

Chris lit a cigarette and tossed his lighter on the table. It skittered and spun into the heavy glass ashtray. He glared after her. "That's bullshit."  He waved his hand dismissively and looked at the bowl. "Dude. Smoke that shit." Then he took a sip from the flask, nodded and handed it over.

Ken pointed at the chair and looked at Caetano. "So what exactly are you two looking for here?" Things had calmed down and the conversation turned over to business as quickly as the ruckus had started.

Gordon stepped to the right, pushing Lillian a bit, clearing them both from the line of fire of the shotgun. "That wasn't smart at all." He said to nobody in particular, and he watched the scene unfold intently. When it turned peaceful again he turned to Lillian and exhaled a relieved sigh. "Okay. What were you saying?"

He took a step forward, grabbed two stools and pulled them out from under the bar, then he sat down in one heavily. He swiveled so he could see the table and what was going on. "And yeah, stuff like that is pretty normal. You wanted work, right?" He looked Lillian up and down again, this time thinking and shrugged. "We don't just put anyone to work, and I have it on good authority you were picked up at a Waffle House earlier tonight by a few of Phoenix's people..."

Dimitri was about to respond when a metric fuck ton of commotion occurred behind him, with shouting and shoguns and all manner of trouble. Dimitri grinned and seemed eager to see a fight break out. He cracked his neck and there was an evil glint in his eye that showed an appetite for violence and danger. When the commotion died down though he seemed a bit disappointed before facing Phoenix.

"I am looking to start making connections. New guy in town with no one to vouch for him gets shit reputation. Shit reputation gets you shit jobs and I have done that over and over again and would like to maybe take rungs two at a time. I hate to impose but I hear you are family in only way that matters and so I come to you as brother and friend to establish reputation. Let me help you out, make a name and get better then shut reputation and I can stand on my own two feet, grow out and owe you huge favor later on.

I know imposing on family is dick thing to do but then again I also know you do not go into new place and just set up shop either. You pay yr dues and get reputation, then you do your thing."

Phoenix looked at you again and only watched the events with mild curiosity then he looked back at you thoughtfully. "Okay. What specifically are you looking to get your hands into first? I'll help you out because that's the rules, but how much depends on what you're getting into." He leaned back against the rail, spreading his arms out and looked back at the bikes again. "I'm obligated to throw you a bone. Not to cut my nose off."

He was quiet while he watched the stuff going on inside and as everyone settled back down he looked back to you. "Be specific. You're potentially asking for a lot. Don't dick me around by being vague."

Lillian took the hint and took a seat in the stool opposite of Gordon, “Fuck word travels fast in this town. Some guy named Jack picked me up while one of his boys took my car. And to be perfect honest, I’d just assume not owe Jack a damn thing for help. I’m a do-for-myself kinda gal. Been doing it a long time, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.” She looked over to Ken and Chris then over to Ric, then back to Gordon, “And I’m not asking for a job specifically, if you can’t use me it’s all cool. But maybe you might know someone who could. That’s all.”

Caetano shifted in his coach to face Ken, tilting his head a bit as he thought of the question "Hmmm... get to know the people, and get known. I suppose that's the most important... ideally, maybe establish some relations, or at least interesting acquaintances" he said smiling apologetically. "I do not have any important business that might cause problems or move any money that might get noticed in any way" he said making a gesture towards the liquor bottle... "For what is worth, I am just a vet, and a message biker... of the kind that do not use gas, as lame as it may sound, its a pretty risky business, though you may not be aware" he paused again thinking what to say next.

"In a perfect world, it would be something like: 'Hey I am here... let me do my thing, and I'll make sure I am not a bother to anyone' Problem is, Lands of La-La rarely do exist, so I would rather take the bull by the horns, and see what it is that it takes to live my life however I please... so, back to your question, I'd say I am here to learn too... as for Teri, well, I guess she has her learning more than done already so you'd have to ask her, but there is much of live and let live in her agenda... however ironic that may sound in our case".

Dimtri nods his head. He knows the drill and a man like Phoenix has gone through this song and dance just as many times as he had. That he didn't feel particularly obligated to play "fuck the new guy" said volumes of his character but that play was still on the table until he had a job.

"I am supplier. Weapons, drugs, tanks, women... what you need I set you up. I hear there is quite a bit of conflict in the underworld markets here. Многие гиганты ступает в крошечном городке...how would you say...many giants entering a tiny town. I am not end dealer, I am not sitting on street corner like whore. I am supplier is all. All I want is a place to set up shop, maybe a few buddies to watch my back. I am sure you can get what you need but can you always get what you want? I do not know this. Maybe there is something you need to acquire or maybe put fear of death into, I have been told I can be quite persuasive when I bring my knife set..I hear regrowing a face is quite messy."

Phoenix was quiet for a long moment. So long that the silence grew awkward, then uncomfortable, then bad enough that Dimitri thought he was in danger of being thrown off the balcony or worse... But, just as Dimitri began to debate beating a hasty retreat Phoenix spoke, "That's exactly the kind of shit I deal with, but, it's time consuming, and it's messy work. You got experience? You want to run it?"

He stepped off the railing and stopped a respectful distance from Dimitri and looked him straight in the eyes, "Prove you're not a fuck up and most of all, prove you're loyal. You work for me now." He hauled a simple flip phone from his hands and offered it to Dimitri. "Take it. We'll be in touch."

Dimitri shrugs and takes the phone.

"Yes I have experience. I ran a crew out of Charleston before fucking Sabbat wrecked my shop. Things got way too hot there so here I am. As for loyalty..."

Dimitri pulls the neck of his shirt to the side revealing a tattoo of a star on his shoulder.

"I do not know if you know but this means Я не нарушаю...er... I am unbroken. I do not betray my brothers."

He looks again at the phone and gives a smile and tucks it into his pocket.

"You will not be disappointed as I get results few others have stomach for. Is there anything else or is it time to party now? We share drink to finalize arrangement, yes?"

Ric seemed interested in what Edge had to say if for no other reason then because she hadn't threatened him or stuck a gun in his side.  She also was far more interesting to look at AND seemed to be willing to tell him what was really going on.  When she said to find her, Ric made eye contact to indicate he acknowledged what she had said to him.  From there the conversation was something of a blur and Ric only half-heartedly listened as Chris said something and then Ken asked some sort of question.  "What?" He asked.

"Oh.  Well, the honest answer is that I wanted to see for myself what the guys who are responsible for my current condition are all about, maybe make some real cash, and maybe see about getting this old 68 Shelby I know wherezzat restored, and if I can't get that done reasonably, maybe at least get some engine work done to my truck." Ric paused.  He was still angry.  The red flush was rapidly leaving his skin tone and he was paling significantly.  All in all, he was, for kindred in the know, showing remarkable self-control for a new Brujah who only a few short seconds ago was on the bring of a rage frenzy.  "She's got an oil leak, smokes like there's no tomorrow, the tranny slips in low gear, and has got about 320K original miles on her.  I bought her ride out of school with a little help from my daddy.  I had her ever since.  She's a good truck, been through a lot, an' loyal like a huntin' dog, but I fear she's on her last legs, even though I know she'll never tell me that until it's too late." Ric confessed.

If you were into muscle cars at all, you knew the 68 Shelby GT500 Mustang was about as top of the line as they came.  There were others out there that could be faster, have more power, or have more class, but there were a very small few that could combine more power, more class, and more speed.  They were also incredibly sexy when restored.  Chevy simply didn't make anything outside of dropping a huge engine into a corvette that held a candle anywhere close and the number of Dodge muscle cars out there in the same league dwindled more and more every year.  On the other hand, if one was a country boy, nostalgic, or just a truck person, you could respect Ric's desire to keep his truck ticking even though she had gone on well past her life expectancy.

Ric looked at the bowl Chris passed him hesitantly.  He looked around the room.  Screw it.  He was all in.  He picked it up, lit it, and like a rookie, hit it way way too hard, damn near choking himself and going into a coughing fit.  He waved a hand in front of himself, clearing the large cloud of exhaled smoke out of his face while he coughed, dropping the bowl back on the table, but he held the lighter for a second before dropping that too.  "Goddamn! He cursed, clearing his throat.

"But what's wrong with Navy SEAL guys?" Ric asked the dumb question in response to Chris's comment about the Archons.  "That don't sound so bad to me.  I got a cousin that's an Army Ranger and a brother that did four years in the Marine Corps before becoming a cop down in King's Mountain.  Military life ain't for me, but I got no problem with them." Ric just didn't understand.  He was still new and thinking like a normal human.

Ric looked around again, still feeling like the new guy and trying not to let on that he really was not comfortable at all around these Team NOS guys.  "This may sound dumb too, but how do you know who you can eat?  Another part of the reason I came out here was to do that on my own.  Ain't happened yet without Eve supervising.  She always said something about a rack, which I assume is sort of like a torture rack or something and respecting others' territory." He paused, a little nervously.  "I seen one that I liked earlier.  A young redhead in some of those skinny jeans.  Came with her."  Ric pointed at Lillian who was engaged in conversation with gruff trucker looking guy.  He was, of course, referring to Angel, but was also, of course, completely oblivious to the fact Angel was already a kindred and the implications involved with what he had just said...

Ken listened to Caetano and frowned more and more as he spoke. Then he was quiet for a minute while he fiddled with a cigarette. Chris looked at his counterpart and they made eye contact. Another silent conversation passed between them and then they both looked at Caetano.

"Dude, get out. we asked you what you wanted and you danced around that shit like some can't cunt little girl." Ken was looking right at Caetano, "You just talked for like five fucking minutes and didn't say shit." Ken scowled and Chris nodded. "You're either a pussy, or a cop, and I don't give two fucks which. Bounce before we bounce you."

Chris glanced back to Ric, took the bowl and tapped it out into the ashtray. He lit a cigarette, handed an unlit one to Ken, who took it despite having one in his hand already, and then offered one to Ric. Ken's eyes flickered across Chris, his arm, and the cigarette and to Ric. Ken nodded, giving on grudgingly on some unspoken point, but he turned his attention right back to Caetano, "Seriously, homes, get the fuck out. You ain't welcome here."

Chris decided to let Ken handle Caetano and turned back to Ric after a second, "Dude, Shelby's are sick. Ken and I can probably help you with that, same with the truck. Our mechanic is the shit. We got a place off Unity Church Road, big ass garage. If you can get the truck out there I'll have my boy hook it up." Then he pursed his lips and hit his cigarette hard. He held the smoke for a moment then exhaled a thick, gray cloud that wafted out into the air. You could almost see the lung cancer it.

"Archons are dirty cops. They don't just run around making sure nobody is being a jerk off. They push their own agendas, they push the Justicars' agendas, and do what they want. They only answer to Justicars, and they're so high up on the goddamn food chain they might as well not answer to anyone. If an Archon dismantles a city most likely the Justicar assumes the Archon knows what he's doing." Another lucid moment from Chris while he spoke. Ken and Chris  were goofy for sure, but they were slowly revealing an uncanny intelligence. Neither of them were as stupid as they acted. That was for sure. "I seen one come into LA, wipe out an entire fuckin' crew, and bounce out like it wasn't shit. He shouldn't have been there at all. Cali was a free state." He looked up and made eye contact with Ric, "Then come to find out this prick wasn't even supposed to be there. He came to LA, where the Camarilla isn't supposed to be, on his fucking own, and offed that crew because he had beef with one of the people in it."

Chris looked disgusted and ashed his cigarette. "That's who your Sire sold us out to. Pricks on a power trip that kill without a reason. We're dicks, yeah, but we don't run around offing entire fucking crews because someone called us a dirty name in front of our friends. That's what that shit was about." He waved the topic off and thought for a second. "That has to be Angel. She's a Joker." Chris pointed at Lillian and then Phoenix. "Them. She came with Angel. Phoenix is their President or whatever he calls himself. The bald guy outside." He indicated Phoenix with a subtle finger poiint and then took another pull on his menthol cigarette. "But, Angel? Really? She's.... I dunno. Weird." He looked at Ric skeptically.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:20, Mon 01 Apr 2013.

Gordon shrugged. "It didn't travel that fast. You stopped in one of our joints. Two of the waitresses there work for us, and we own the pay phone outside. You and Jack in that Range Rover stood out like sore thumbs. What tipped the waitress off though was that you didn't go inside. Everyone goes inside a Waffle House, even if it's for nothing but coffee." He gave you a sly wink.

Gordon spun in his chair and leaned against the bar, using it like a seat back. "Just to be sure one of our probees came to check you out. The mustang? That was one our cars."

He watched the table intently then looked back at you. "You want, what? A recommendation? I still don't know you. Maybe you can start by telling me what brought you to Charlotte, and don't give me that just passing through bullshit. You're traveling alone. Nobody traveling alone is just passing through."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:55, Mon 01 Apr 2013.

Phoenix looked you up and down one more time, making sure he had everything about you committed to memory and turned his back on you, clearly indicating the conversation was utterly over. "You should head back inside. I need to watch my boys down there."

He leaned back on the railing and turned his focus on the comings and goings below. That left you with a mostly complete mission and the rest of the night to work on your own projects. Add to that you were surrounded by anyone who was anybody in the Anarch community, which meant once you walked back inside you would be tripping over business opportunity, after partner, after rival.

It was on you what you did next.

Caetano listened to Ken as he gave him his shit, then eyed Ric and shrugged in his mind. It was clear these guys spoke a different language, and it was also clear they did not let insults go unanswered, so... they had come here for a reason, and mingling was what he was supposed to do, to hell if he didn't give it his best try.

Laughter came unbidden, but probably for different reasons than anyone might get... to make this scene for being called a pussy... 'oh mama if you could only see me now' "A cop... I'll leave it on your brains being fried and all... but a pussy ? I would start to worry where your prick goes if you confuse things so badly.  Oh my, the boy can put two sentences together and he doesn't threat us or asks for something, so.... he must be a cop or a pussy ?" laughter interrupted Caetano there again the reasoning of these guys bordered insanity "Man I may not know shit of fighting, but a cow judges character better than you do."

As soon as Caetano finished talking Ken popped up out his chair with a snarl. He kicked his chair back out of the way and sent it careening into the wall behind him. He'd already been cowed once tonight, and was not going to take it a second time.

"Bounce or get buried, bitch." Ken spat the word and looked at Caetano like he was short. That universal look men who are about to fight give each other: You're worthless. You're light work. You're a bitch, and kicking your asshole up around your teeth is going to be easy.

It was definitely go time. Chris started giggling and lit another cigarette, but he kept his eyes on Caetano.


[Private to Caetano Cohen: +1 EXP Caetano. That was cool, but oh will there be consequences. Please roll 1d10 Then add your Dexterity + Wits to it. EX: 1d10 result = 5. Wits 3 and Dex 2. 5+3+2 = 10. You're rolling initiative. You have to beat a 12 to go first and an 11 to go second.  If you do please edit your post accordingly. I also need a private line declaring what you intend to do, if you spend blood, use a discipline, etc... ALL of that needs to be declared now.] PM

Nobody post until I give the all clear. This should be quick.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:44, Mon 01 Apr 2013.

Caetano stood up as Ken advanced towards him, keeping his eyes level on the man. He knew he was about to get beat, but that had not been the point at all, and so, his smile, an almost crazed grin, still stood on his face.

He laughed hard again, the man wouldn't get it even if it was plain in front of his eyes, it was just as alien to them as this whole charade was to him... "You still don't get it do you?" no point explaining, he had already done that, and they had taken him for a pussy or a cop... *laughs*... he was here to learn... and make some friends... clearly the second would not be possible until he found out better how their minds ticked and it wouldn't do them thinking a him pussy...

Now it was time to swallow the hard end of the stick. 'fuck it' "You only stood up after I said I don't know shit of fightin'?".

[Private to GM, ST-Ac1d: OOC:
09:38, Today: Caetano Cohen rolled 16 using 1d10+6. Initiative (roll + wits+dex).
Well, Caetano knows he doesn't know shit of fighting. First would be pumping stamina, and then dex if he has the time. His goal will be staying alive, so just dodging and getting out of the way or roll with the punches. He knows its a fight loss, and just wants to make his point clear, not win the fight. If at any point using his athletics might get him an edge then by all means :)]

[Private to Caetano Cohen: So you'll spend your 1 BP / turn on raising your Dexterity to 1. You get to go first. What is your action.] PM

PM
[Private to GM: I thought lowest init declared first... anyway, it really does not matter Caetano would not try to throw a punch first.

1BP Raise Dex to 4  -- Remaining BP 9 --
Dodge: 4 Dex + 1 Dodge - > 5 dice rolled. (If I am doing this wrong just let me know).
08:32, Today: Caetano Cohen rolled 1 success using 5d10 with the World of Darkness 3rd ed system with a target of 6 with rolls of 7,8,1,3,4. Dex + Dodge.

Soaking: Caetano woud be soaking with 4 Sta + 1 Fortitude -> 5 dice.]
This message was last edited by the player at 06:34, Wed 03 Apr 2013.

PM

[Private to Caetano Cohen: You're correct. Ken is about to hit you. Chris is going to intervene if it looks like you might win. So your Dodge works fine... That said...

Between his roll and your Dodge you need to soak 1. You can check the log if you like]

Just as Caetano finished talking Ken reached back with his hand, keeping it open, and swung forward. Caetano seen it coming just in time to deflect most of the blow by leaning out and raising an arm. The blow left a red mark on his cheek that faded after a second or two, but the point had been made.

Ken thought Caetano was a bitch, and there was nothing the Gangrel could do to change that now. A few other people stood up and started making their way towards Caetano. They had on various hats and jackets with the NOS logo on it.

"Bro," It was Chris who spoke, "You got about five seconds to get up outta here before we take you apart." The coming storm, in the form of the rest of Team NOS closing in on Caetano, told the Gangrel the damage had been done and it was time to move on.


OOC: Everyone can post right after Caetano.
This message was last updated by the GM at 02:03, Thu 04 Apr 2013.

[Private to GM: LOL... VERY nicely done with the slap.
I think this really works for him as it gives him a good reason to focus on learning to defend himself.
08:20, Thu 04 Apr 2013: Caetano Cohen rolled 2 successes using 5d10 with the World of Darkness 3rd ed system with a target of 6 ((1,10,5,7,10)).
]
Caetano's face changed as all distinct stages of embarrasment and anger went through it. Had he been alive he would sport an embarrased crimsom red visage... had he been a cartoon fume would be coming out of his ears, all of this together gravitating from one to the other as his mind's eye replayed the event again and again.

As it were, his perfectly immaculate face, for the slap had done nothing worth of mention, was dominated by his wide eyed expression, while his fists clenched almost to the point of hurting his palms.

Whether Ken had played it so intelligently on purpose was something he did not know, but one thing was clear, the bastard was cunning. He had been prepared for a beating, he had actually called for it, as it would have actually made his point all the more clear... this however, was an insult that cut right through his efforts, it had broken the momemtum and left any actions now other than suicide appear as a kid's tantrum.

He took a few seconds to collect himself, as Chris' words registered in his mind as echoes well after the man had pronounced them... they were not important... all had already been said with that slap.

He inhaled purposefully, like he had done in life in his yoga exercises, conscious of the air coming through his nostrils and filling his dead lungs... it was a reflex, a well trained one... he relaxed. The anger was still there, but it was now manageable, it let him think.

He picked up the indian piece of cloth that kept his hair in place, which had fallen with the slap, leaving his hair in disarrayed not bothering to put it back. His voice, as he spoke back to Ken had an intensity that had not been there before, none of the laughter, none of the kindness. Hurt but intent on its meaning "Next time... make sure you close your fist when you hit me or I swear I will rip your hand off even if it is the last thing I do."

Then, he slowly started towards the exit, almost trembling rage and embarrasement.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:52, Thu 04 Apr 2013.