Sleuth Home - Message Boards - Role Playing Stage


0 0
Storyville Streets
  Next>  |  Last Page>>  

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Feb-17-2011 13:11

New York at night can be overwhelming to your senses if your not used to it. Thats how I felt tonight, as I did on occasion. I was taking a stroll down the street when I began to hear a pleasant sound. At first I couldn't identify the sound or even it's location but it shortly became clear to me.

I had unknowingly stumbled into the newest city development, Storyville. In an attempt to mimic the famed New Orleans district, some politician or other had suggested a city revitalization project and so this neo-Storyville was born. In the NY Storyville, the jazz and liquor flowed all night long. The political powers that be had intended for this to be a center for the arts which it was, but it was also a haven of sin. Booze and women of the night were not unfamiliar to those who frequented the Storyville streets this late in the evening. Gangs also constantly loomed, waiting for drunken marks to pick a pocket or land a black jack.

While I had not intention of imbibing since I never consumed alcohol, I did want to find the jazz club that was producing that soulful sound. I began walking in the direction that I was fairly certain the sound was coming from when a woman emerged from an ally.

"Hey honey, you need some company? I'll make sure you have a good time tonight." She was almost yelling in a drunken or otherwise altered state.

"Gratitude for the offer but I got a fight coming up and women weaken legs y'know." I replied.

"Oh, a boxer are you? You must be some big tough guy, huh? Come over here and show me how tough you are."

"I'm not half so tough as you I'll bet, but I gotta run before that jazz band quits pla-" She cut me off mid-sentence.

"Get this fool, boys." Without a sound, four mean looking gentlemen emerged from the darkness of the alley. They were toting brass knuckles and stiletto knives. The closest guy had a huge grin which I found unsettling. Suddenly mister smiles up front pounced.


Replies

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Feb-17-2011 13:24

He had the knife in his right hand thrusting forward. I stepped to the right and threw an overhand right over the top that put him to bed. The second guy was a bit more tentative, he stood at range and poked at me with the knife. He caught me on the forearm once but it was just a little cut. I flicked out a jab then slipped under the knife and dug a left shovel shot to his liver that made him vomit right there in the street. The third guy came out of nowhere and cracked my right under the eye with the brass knuckles. It split open old scar tissue from previous fights and the blood poured freely down my face. The cut was no big deal but the thug must have thought I would bleed to death because he didn't follow up and I caught him under the chin with a mean lead left uppercut that broke his jaw. I stood ready for the fourth man but couldn't see him anywhere suddenly a shot rang out. The bullet ripped my coat and gave me a nasty rip on the arm but not much else since the shot was poorly placed and only winged me. I still couldn't see the shooter and I was pretty sure the second shot would be better and kill me.

The second shot came and I was certain that I was dead. I looked up and down my body but could find no gaping bullet wound. Suddenly a man came staggering out of the alley with a terrible chest wound. He dropped his revolver and I identified him as the fourth thug. He fell dead at my feet. I looked back to the street to see who had fired the shot that saved my life.

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Feb-23-2011 22:46

A mysterious figure stood with a long flowing coat and a face shadowed under a hat. "Your're an awfully lucky fellow mister Banks. Who knows what might have happened had I not been strolling by. I'm fairly certain your luck won't be that good a second time." The mysterious person had a voice like the whispering wind. I was not even sure if it was a man or a woman. It was like a specter stood in the street whispering to me. "Mister Banks, there are forces at work in this place that are unscrupulous at best and terribly evil at worst. I would return to a safer location if I was in your shoes. If you must remain here, tread lightly." I was never one for all this mysterious talk and I wanted to get to the point and see if there was something the figure was driving at. "Excuse me sir or madam, but I'm curious as to what you're making reference to with all this talk of evil. Furthermore, I'm not sure who you are and I'm curious to say the least." The response was immediate and the whisper had become more harsh. "The street ruffians are hardly you're biggest problem here. You are an able man mister Banks, but how will you use your fists on what can't be touched. The real threat comes in the form of the Fangs of Cerberus. If you invite the wrath of them, then you will be beyond saving." I had heard enough of this ridiculous riddle talk and I was beginning to get steamed. "The Fangs of Cerberus? Like the three headed dog that guards the underworld? Thats absurd and I am beginning to question your sobriety. You still haven't explained who you are and I'm at the end of my patience. Now, if you have no intention of being straight with me then I'll take my leave." The wind picked up and the mysterious person's voice volume increased to its apex. "As to who I am, that is neither here nor there. As for the Fangs, they are a powerful mystical group who call this section home. They detest people like you mister Banks and you should go now."

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Feb-23-2011 22:46

A mysterious figure stood with a long flowing coat and a face shadowed under a hat. "Your're an awfully lucky fellow mister Banks. Who knows what might have happened had I not been strolling by. I'm fairly certain your luck won't be that good a second time." The mysterious person had a voice like the whispering wind. I was not even sure if it was a man or a woman. It was like a specter stood in the street whispering to me. "Mister Banks, there are forces at work in this place that are unscrupulous at best and terribly evil at worst. I would return to a safer location if I was in your shoes. If you must remain here, tread lightly." I was never one for all this mysterious talk and I wanted to get to the point and see if there was something the figure was driving at. "Excuse me sir or madam, but I'm curious as to what you're making reference to with all this talk of evil. Furthermore, I'm not sure who you are and I'm curious to say the least." The response was immediate and the whisper had become more harsh. "The street ruffians are hardly you're biggest problem here. You are an able man mister Banks, but how will you use your fists on what can't be touched. The real threat comes in the form of the Fangs of Cerberus. If you invite the wrath of them, then you will be beyond saving." I had heard enough of this ridiculous riddle talk and I was beginning to get steamed. "The Fangs of Cerberus? Like the three headed dog that guards the underworld? Thats absurd and I am beginning to question your sobriety. You still haven't explained who you are and I'm at the end of my patience. Now, if you have no intention of being straight with me then I'll take my leave." The wind picked up and the mysterious person's voice volume increased to its apex. "As to who I am, that is neither here nor there. As for the Fangs, they are a powerful mystical group who call this section home. They detest people like you mister Banks and you should go now."

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Feb-23-2011 22:51

"Thanks" I said. I was done with this little banter and I walked deeper into Storyville. I never worried about the danger of a situation because if I worried all the time I would never be able to work up the gumption every day. I wouldn't have stepped into the ring all those times and I wouldn't have become a detective so my way had served me pretty well. The other motivation is that now I was really intrigued. A little robbery and assault by some street thugs might be enough to hang up your hat for the night and try again the next day but if my interest was piqued, I was powerless against it. I had to pursue these "Fangs of Cerberus" and find out more.

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Mar-12-2011 01:26

I headed to a local bar where I knew a few fellows who were a little less than above board. They were the type of guys to do a job for anyone and they had their fingers in a lot of "pies". I entered and stepped up to the bar. "You have any coffee back there?" I asked without much expectation. "yeah, we got some but its pretty old." I cringed at the thought of the acrid, ancient coffee sitting in the pot. "Fine, I take it black with no sugar." I took the cup and drank it all immediately not wanting to taste a single sip for longer than I had to. The bitter taste combined with the fact that I had been attacked no more than a half hour ago filled me with a sudden fury. Its hard to explain but something about drinking bad coffee makes me just want to knock someones teeth out. This coffee was particularly disgusting and I was feeling terribly malicious.

I spied the two gentleman that I had been thinking about earlier. They were always in each others company. They were speaking about a job they had done recently, a jewelry store robbery. They spoke far too loudly considering the content of their conversation. I stepped towards their table and cleared my throat loudly to announce my presence. "Excuse me gents, I was wondering if I could bother you for a minute of your time?" I asked them with faux politeness as I would have readily brutalized these two for a nickel. "What do you want clown?" One of the two men said. I identified him as the taller of the two with the beanpole build, lets call him Slim for convenience sake. " Now sir, I'm sure your mother was a fine woman who taught you better manners than that. All I want is to ask you a few questions and we can part like friends." He scowled but it was his counterpart that replied. This man was the physical opposite of his partner, portly but short in stature. Lets call this gentleman Slob because his real name is of little importance to me and in all honesty I think Slim and Slob is a fun name.

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Mar-12-2011 01:41

Well slob screwed up his already ugly mug at me but addressed Slim. "Hey Roy, you want we should educate dis fool?" I heard this and immediately laughed. This made Slob awfully mad and he began to rise from his chair. I latched onto his ear like he was a naughty school boy being punished by the mean teacher. "Now fellows, why does it have to come to this? I just wanted to know if you had heard of a little group?" I was addressing Slim directly as Slob was somewhat busy trying to retain his ear. "I'm not telling you nothing!" Slim remained defiant as he was not currently in danger of donating his ear to my cause. "I see, well if thats how you feel." I said and promptly bounced Slobs head off their table. He fell onto the floor with a great plop that you would expect from a man you nicknamed Slob. Slim's eyes opened wide with fear but he looked as if he might rise from his seat to fight. I quelled this notion quickly by smashing a stiff hook to his cheek. He fell from the seat to the floor. "Now that you two are more receptive I expect some responses. What do you know about a group that calls themselves 'Fangs of Cerberus'?" I was looking to Slim but the only thing issued from his mouth were two teeth. Suffice to say no answers came. I looked back to Slob but I could tell from his face that he had no idea what I was talking about. I was considering asking a few more questions or just trouncing them a bit more for some laughs but I spied something unpleasant. The bartender had one of those double barrel coach type shotguns pointing at me. "Get out now mister." He said with a not so nice tone. "Certainly sir, I apologize for disturbing your patrons." I smiled wide and left the bar.
I felt better after having silenced Slim and Slob and I felt vindicated for the evil coffee that had put me in such a foul state but I still knew nothing. I judged I would have to go a more civil route to find what I needed.

Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Mar-13-2011 19:27

From the back of the bar I watched as the man called Cyril Banks held his own against two goons who were drunk and loud. Fighting someone who is drunk is bad enough but Cyril Banks, I knew was a tough fighter. I'd seen him in the news papers a couple of times years back when he won the heavyweight title. When the bartender pulled out his shot gun and told him to get out, I figured it was time for me to leave to. I got up and followed him out the door.

"Mr. Banks!" I called as I jogged to catch up with him, "Mr. Banks," I said again as I came along side of him, "you're not just going to walk away from that are you?"

He opened his mouth to speak but I interrupted him. "Never mind that. The name is Edward Carlyle," I said extending my arm to shake hands.

He looked at me and hesitated only for a second before extending his arm to shake my hand.

"What can I do for you Mr. Carlyle?" He asked me.

"Actually, Mr. Banks, I saw you get into a fight earlier today in the street and over heard something about "The Fangs of Cerberus"."

"You know about them?" He asked.
"Well....umm..no. But, I have heard of them. And I hear they're a nasty bunch to piss off." I said.

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Mar-16-2011 01:30

"Mister Carlyle, I'm sure you're correct. A little fisticuffs in the street or a bar is one thing but I'm afraid these characters will make that look like playtime." I replied to the well dressed man who had approached me. As well as having fine clothes, he was also well groomed and had a way about him that said that he was likely a smooth operator.

"Mister Banks, I'm going to have to agree. I heard through a couple of contacts of mine that the fangs might be an offshoot of one of the local factions or something worse." He said this as a worried look came over his face. His look truly explained how I felt. An offshoot of the already dangerous factions could be downright volatile. What could possibly be worse than that? I shuddered at the thought.

"Mister Carlyle, I think you can call me Cyril. I'm not too excited about digging deeper on these guys, especially if they're a new violent faction but something in me says I gotta. It might get a little hairy from here on in and there might be a little blood and such, how does that sit with you?" I didn't know how he would feel about getting his hands dirty.

"That suits me just fine Cyril. I've never been afraid of some rough stuff and I figure a brawl does a body good." He said this with seriousness and I knew I was in the company of a man after my own heart.

"It seems to me that the first step would be grilling someone out of the existing factions to see who the fangs splintered off of. I don't know how we would figure out who to squeeze though. I hope you have some ideas." I said desperately hoping that he did in fact have an idea.

"As it happens, I do have an idea. If I'm right, time is of the essence. Lets go, I'll tell you on the way." As he turned to go his coat drifted open exposing his long pearl handled knife. I wondered if he would have to use it. If nothing else, tonight would be an interesting evening.



Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Mar-16-2011 13:49

As we made our way into the city center I knew exactly where to go. Inside the city center there was a cigar shop owned by one Paul Consolini. This place was where most of the bosses would hold private meetings after it was closed for the public. Meetings were usually held twice a week to report. Tonight just so happened to be one of the nights. Dona Isabella Santenelli would arrive first, followed by two more unnamed bosses from the neighboring cities.

"We're early," I said as we walked in.
Paul Consolini was built like a rock. The muscle structure on his body could be seen through is $200 Italian hand made suit. "Hey, how you doin?" He said as the door shut.

I turned around and locked the door. "Your closed for the time being. We got some questions to ask you."

"You're nuts," he said, "now get out of here before I blow both of youse away." He reached under the desk and pulled out a pump action shot gun.

Attached to my right wrist was a custom made spring loaded mechanism that I simply called The Springer. The Springer was holding a .22 caliber North American Arms revolver; a tiny 5 shot revolver that could, in the right hands, inflict a considerable amount of damage. With the flick of my wrist, I activated the springer and the gun, in a blink of an eye appeared in the palm of my hand ready to fire.

"I dont' think so," I said. I fired one shot that the man's hand."

"AAAGGHHH!" He screamed as he dropped the rifle.

"Mr. Consolini," I said, "I really dont' like doing this, but I think you would have some information my friend here and I need. So you going to talk?"

Cyril Banks
Cyril Banks

Mar-18-2011 01:39

"You shot me you son of a -aaah!" The large man in the fine suit didn't get to finish his sentence before Ed put the barrel of his revolver into the wound where a palm used to reside.

"Cyril, this is Mister Paul Consolini as you might have inferred. Say hello Paul, be friendly to your new acquaintance." Ed twisted the revolver causing Consolini to scream and curse up a storm. "Guess he isn't in the mood for introductions." Ed said with a little chuckle. I took this time to grab up the cut down pump gun and get it out of arms reach from the slightly disgruntled Consolini.

"Quit twisting that freakin gun you lunatic! I'll tell you whatever you want just please stop!" Ed stopped for a moment. He considered briefly what he would ask and how to proceed from here.

"Paul, we have some questions for the guests you plan on entertaining later this evening. We need to find out some information and we don't want to try and play rough with any faction bosses like we had to with you. We want you to facilitate a little question and answer session with some of the bosses." Ed said with authority. I stayed quiet because I was sure Ed knew the score better than me in this matter.

"Not on your life. Just because you got the drop on me doesn't mean you'll leave here alive. I got big friends in the factions. They'll see you shot me in my own shop and they aren't gonna be answering no questions... they're gonna be burying you in a shallow grave." Paul said with a self satisfied smirk. Ed looked at me and I at him for only a moment. In this instant, Consolini dove behind his thick oak desk. Ed fired a shot and it would have been a killer had it not been for the thick desk. Consolini popped out from behind the desk with a colt 1911 and put the sights on me. I dipped behind a fancy grandfather clock. The shot missed but the .45 slug jumped right through the clock like it was a piece of newspaper. I was in a bit of trouble.

  Next>  |  Last Page>>  

[ You must login to reply ]