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Root Down
#1
[[OPEN]]
Bas shut the engine off and the deep rumble of his Camero came to a stop. He looked in his mirror one last time, checking his collars, and then opened the door and got out. He was wearing a flashy silver jacket and loose knotted tie, a silver-blue button down shirt underneath. He work thick soft-wool midnight black pants and charcoal grey boots. He never went anywhere without his boots- whether black or grey or brown or blue. You just never knew when you needed your heavy soles and steel toes. Like tonight.

He prayed and the power flooded into him, suddenly making the night come to life. The air around him felt moist with the cold, and he could almost see crystals form from his breath. The thrum from Kallistis could be felt through the cold air and the ground and walls. The sky seemed a roof of clouds, fringed silver-blue by the light of the full moon. His own jacket and tie also seemed to glow. By the door two bouncers stood, mostly watch those who walked by. He took one more breath and let the power go. He could call on it a moment's notice if he needed. Just knowing it was here was enough.

He was alone. Which reminded him and he checked his wallet to see if Nox had texted. It wasn't a big deal, really. It woulda been cool if he made it. It had been a few weeks ago since they'd first gotten together. And that thing in the tunnel was fucking awesome! Ninja girl and her sword, Nox and his fire whip and him and his explosives. Those zombie-things had never stood a chance. He wanted to practice with the man again. He had a feeling that he was going to be needing to use his power more and more. Ayden had healed his hand. It seemed there was a lot more to using it than just blowing things up. It needed finesse and delicacy. Like with a woman.

And if he had Nox there as a bit of back up that no one knew about, so much the better. Nox wouldn't care. And it wasn't like there was any real danger, not to the two of them.

He went to the door and the man eyed him for a moment- his gopnik tattoo on his neck just peeking out- but then let him in. Was a time when they wouldn't have let him in. Indeed, they might have tried to rough him up. Course that just woulda made him try harder to prove he could get in. But over the last 5 years things had changed. His clothes and demeanor said he belonged there. Plus, he'd been there with Roman a couple times. The influence and money of the Mordvinov's was not something to sneeze at. Course, if the man had known who he was there to meet, he might have called for reinforcements.

Once inside and past the walkway and coat check he was in the main area. The lighted up stage dominated the room, demanding attention. On it, two women danced in time and rhythm to each other, one of them in a red and golden fringed low-cut short-coat that was vaguely familiar- and that gave tantalizing glimpses of flesh underneath, seeming to stalk the other woman in red, who seeing her come for her, would spin about this way and that way, evading her. It was a hunt, with the woman in red's dress calling to the other woman, teasing her, pulling at her, yet avoiding her at the last. Nearly avoiding, as each pass took away more of the red dress, revealing more and more flesh. But the hunt was the thing, the chase, and the tease. And the hint at plump breast, the glimpse of taut thigh and the flash of rounded ass. He watched for a bit, appreciating the difference. This was not his normal strip club, with its promise of immediate sex and exposure. This was tease, atmosphere. It was foreplay.

He was here to work though he certainly didn't mind mixing work with pleasure. He'd looked around immediately as he walked in, taking in plush couches and chairs, tables and stands and partitions, all angled to direct one's attention to the stage. He saw two men at a table and then, on the other side of the partition, there he was, Mikhail. The men were studiously avoiding looking in Mikhail's direction. Bas smiled. He hadn't come alone. The fact that Bas had said something.

He sauntered over to the table and Mikhail stood up and gave him a bear hug. It had been a few years since they'd seen each other last. "Bas, old friend. Good to see you." The tattoo on his neck had been covered by the black turtleneck sweater he was wearing. Mik snapped at one of the waitresses walking by. "Another glass, platinum ice, and lemon slices." He remembered.

Bas looked at the girl- she would have been pretty if not for her too bony shoulders- and said"Unopened chilled bottle of vodka. Top shelf please."
Mordinov was paying. And it was good to look prosperous, which they were- very much. Mik's eyes flicked to the opened but chilled bottle on his table, still pretty full, but said nothing. Bas wasn't so stupid as to drink from a bottle that he wasn't sure of. Neither was Mik, despite feeling insulted. But he didn't say anything.

"You look good. Mordvinov agrees with you, I think." Bas smiled and waitress returned with the glass, lemon, and bottle. He tore off the silver lining and opened it and then poured the thickened liquid into his glass and over his cubes and lemon. The sweat immediately formed around the glass and he took a sip. Warmth spread throughout his body and he relaxed.

When the girl left, he said, "You look good too. Put on a little weight, it looks like."
A wicked smile. "Too many pirogis and too much desk-work, my friend."


Mik's look darkened. But they had never really been friends, even when they ran with the same crew. And now that Mik was with the Stoya family, well...Still, they both were there for the same reason. A dialog between the two. Kolomov was out. The blood-feud between Mordinov and Kolomov was forever. But Stoya and Mordvinov could coexist. Vlad's death and the scrambling of his family had left a lot of vacant territory. They didn't need to fight. Mik laughed though it was a bit forced. "Yes, well. The girls don't seem to mind it." Then he eyed Bas and his look was hard. "And I still have the hammer. I know you remember that."

Bas' own smile showed perhaps a bit more teeth than he'd have liked. A hammer is right. Damn, but that man's arm was something. His eyebrow had swollen up so much that it had had to be cut just so he could see. Course, he got him back later than day. They'd broken each other's noses and bruised each other up enough back in the day. In a way, it's why this meeting was good. They knew each other and what they were capable of. They were fiercely loyal and knew it. And they respected one another. He touched his eyebrow. "Yeah, I remember."
He could see the other men through the partition. He was still careful though.

"I hear that you had a nice chat with Vlad's uncle."
Mik nodded with a tight smile. "Looks like he decided to move out of a few neighborhoods."
He raised his glass in salute.

After a moment, Mik answered. "I heard the same about you." He laughed. "Vlad's family seems to be in a generous mood, I would say." He looked around and then said almost conspiratorially. "Stoya thought maybe we should ask Viktor Kolomov here as well. Divide the city up between the three of us. But I mentioned that after what had happened with Boris and Niko, maybe that wasn't such a good idea."

Bas laughed out loud. No, that wouldn't have been good at all. The feud between Kolomov and Mordvinov went back to Roman almost getting killed. That didn't just go away. And Bas had killed Niko and then Boris in the same day. Course. the official cause of death was heart-attack. "Hey now, Boris was just unlucky. Not like I magically reached into his heart and crushed it until he died."
He laughed. That had been exactly what he'd done. And Ayden had seen and laughed. Damn his luck there! Engaged, of all things.

"I think the two of us will do fine for our families. Kolomov can go fuck himself."
He raised his drink and Mik clinked glasses immediately. He turned his attention back to the stage, as did Mik. There was a new girl up. She took part of his attention. But he was also thinking about what territories the boss wanted and what he was willing to part with. Preliminaries out of the way, it was time to get down to it.

In a minute, anyway. She had the nicest, roundest ass. It deserved his attention.


Edited by Sebastian, Oct 14 2014, 08:43 AM.
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