ic The Meadows Of Plenty

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

The boss looked at Luther. Suspicion continued to inflame his edges.

 

"You sure do have a lot more interest in where this stuff is coming from than the average hophead." he said. That was some old slang. He smiled softly. A dangerous, knife edged smile. He leaned back. He thought about it.

 

"...But you do have money. Fine. You wanna know where it comes from? You can come back with me. I'll take you to the manufacturing plant straight up, moneybags." his smile was just a little less aggressive; Luther was maybe slowly earning this man's trust, or at least not his complete distaste. He looked down at the sales going on and rang a bell.

"Pack it up! We're leaving for the night! You all stay ready for when our next drop is happening!" he barked. He looked back at Luther.

 

"So what do you say, you coming with me?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Luther didn't trust this man as far as he could throw a dried up dog turd (which was actually pretty far, he knew, from a childhood prank that is best left untold) - he remained on his guard, but carried on with his bluster out of momentum. 

 

"Yah, sure. I want a piece of the action!"
 

A loaded statement, "Action". 

 

It was only when he confidently strutted after the dealer, keen to find out the mysterious source of joy, that a very cold and hard worry hit him in the gut. 

 

If the Void was sated, the Void would not feed. And if the Void would not feed, then Luther would be unable to call upon the soul-sucking powers that he relied on to rip through these goons. 

 

He would be left to his wit and will, and the sap tucked in his belt under his shirt, to face of an army of drug dealers with automatic weapons!

 

 

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

The market was stripped down quite fast; the Joyheads were tossed out- the guards rousting them with enthusiasm-, the tables torn down, the boxes loaded into black SUVs. There was still a bunch of Joy rattling in those boxes, but a lot had been sent out as well. The dealers scampered and made themselves scarce to avoid getting rousted as violently as the Joyheads. The sellers turned in buy sheets and sell sheets, along with their lockboxes and the money within; that was put into a different SUV, one that sat heavy on it's wheels and was clearly well armored- even more than the others-. 

 

There was a minor commotion however when one of the drivers couldn't find the keys to one of the cars.

 

"Where did you put them down?" asked someone else, as the man frantically pawed at his pockets.

 

"I don't know! I don't know. I didn't put them down anywhere." 

 

"Well what happened today? Did someone steal them? Some drug head?"

 

"...Maybe? There was one guy who got way up too close to me while we were patrolling. Some weirdo dressed up like a zombie; I figured he was some extra so hungry for Joy he didn't even btoher changing before running over here." he mumbled.

 

The Boss sighed in frustration at this and looked at Luther.

 

"You really can't get good help." he said to him, though it seemed less like confiding in someone he trusted and more like telling the only person not in the job about his complaints in the job; a representation of the sociological effect of The Stranger, so to speak. 

 

"We're leaving! When you find your keys, hurry up and catch up." The boss said before turning to one of his guards next to Luther and whispering to him. Luther could still hear it, though.

 

"He has an hour. Dump him after that and call me so we can get the car moved. If it takes more than half an hour, let him drive the car back then dump him after you get back. We can't have loose ends." he said with confidence and calm; placing a death warrant on a man whose only flaw was losing his keys.

 

The same keys Luther had in his pocket right now.

 

"Come on, Moneybags, we're going." The Boss said, climbing into the back of one of the SUVs, the door hanging open for Luther.

[Supercape]

GM

 

Luther felt the grip of guilt in his chest. These were not men deserving of much sympathy, and Luther, whilst kindly enough, was not a kindly man. But still - a death sentence? 

 

This was rapidly turning from joy to crap. 

 

An hour. I'd better wrap this up fast then!

 

"Where are we going?" he asked as he climbed into the SUV. "And how long will it take? I get car sick, you see..."

 

This was not a total lie. He did have a tendency to get travel sick, on extended journeys, and it was exacerbated by not driving or having a good view of the road. Still, it was hardly the worst of his problems. Luther hated guns, but he found himself wondering if, in extremis, he could snatch an SMG, even a pistol, if he needed to fight his way out of it. Better than his bare fists. 

 

He suddenly realised he was scared! More scared than he had been since the Void bonded to him. 

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

"We're going to the production factory." He said, cooly. Eyeing Luther again. Maybe a little suspiciously. "I can't tell you exactly where, moneybags, you gotta respect the hustle at least a little, don't you? Can't have someone showing up before we get there...we'll be there when we get there." he waffled his hand, uninterested. "If you get sick, well, you can roll down the window I guess...Or what, do you want to sit in the front?" He frowned and sighed. "I guess we could put you at the front if that makes you feel better. Though I'm not sure I want you to be able to see exactly where we're going, so what do you suggest."

 

Then he considered the other side of it.

 

"...We'll get there when we get there. Maybe about an episode of The Wire. You like The Wire, moneybags? It's a good show."

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"Sure, I can respect a hustle. How do you think I got bags of money?" asked Luther, laughing. It wasn't entirely untrue, either. He had been a wily fox as a youngster. 

 

"The Wire is a great show," he added, wondering why the crook had chosen that as a benchmark. Drugs, sure. But lots of crooks and lots of violence, too. 

 

"Why, you wearing a wire?" he asked with a laugh. 

 

The problem was no much more tricky. How long was an episode. About an hour. 

 

That was cutting things very tight. 

 

"Just put a bag over my head and put me in the front," he said. 

 

The plan was to bump into this goon and plant the missing keys on him, loosely, so they would fall out. 

 

Ye gods! What a pickle!

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

"Why, are you?" he responded to the wire question, chuckling. "Why would I wear a wire in my own business, wouldn't be worth anything." he noted with a laugh. But he indicated to one of the guys and they helped Luther into the front and put a bag over his head, at which point Luther palmed the keys into his pocket.

 

And then Luther couldn't really see anything, but he could hear what was going on. He could hear the guy grunt as he tried to turn the key.

 

"...What the." he frowned. "This key isn't working."

 

"Don't tell me you lost your damn key too!" The boss yelled in anger.

 

"I didn't! I didn't, hold on!" The goon said in concern. There was some ruffling. "...I have...two sets of keys?"

 

"Why do you have two sets of keys."

 

"I don't know, boss. I musta picked them up. Maybe I found Gregory's and forgot about it."

 

"So you're great at finding things but have rocks for brains huh?" Now the boss was moving around.

"I don't know how I got it!"

"I bet he stole it from me to make me look bad! He's never liked me!"

"Oh shut up Greg!"

 

"**** you Lenny!" And it was going on like this with the sack on Luther's head.

Tension was definitely building hard, anger rising to a boiling point.

 

Then there was a rumbling.

 

"ALL OF YOU SHUT UP AND GET BACK TO WORK!" The voice was an explosion, Luther is pretty sure he feels the car bounce under him before there's silence. What the hell just happened? Something not good. Something bad enough the Void itself seems to be slightly more awake; turning over in it's happy sleep, giving the equivalent of a 'hurhg', then falling asleep again. It was total silence other than the motion of people entering the car, it turning on, and it driving off. Order had been restored. And something terrifying had happened.

[Supercape]

Lament

 

It took a lot to rattle Luther LeGrasse, and even more to rattle Lament - but rattled he was. That voice, that sound, seem to crack through his ribs and into his heart. 

 

Just nerves... he told himself. The prospect of an overfed and lethargic void was unpleasant. It was like being in a gunfight and suddenly finding your revolver was firing blanks. And, by the looks of things, a gunfight might well be his fate. Luther had never seen so many firearms in one place. 

 

I really don't like guns. 

 

The thing about nerves was to hide them. He rapped the side of the van and called out to the driver. "Everything ok? Sounds like Satan himself popped up. Maybe he wants in on the joy action too? Hahaha..."

 

Not the best joke. But then, the response would be telling. 

 

 

Edited 23 hours ago by Supercape

[Poncho]

(GM Post) 

 

"Hah, Big Evil, coming up to our little Las Vegas? Ain't that a treat to think about." The Boss said, giving himself a little chuckle. "Moneybags, Satan wouldn't need to pop up. He's in this town ain't he? In the very bones. Las Vegas and Hollywood, the Heart and Soul of Old Scratch himself. He never left, he just changed forms."

 

If he was making facial expressions it was hard to tell, but he was quiet again for a little while.

 

"But no, he ain't who we're meeting. We ain't worth that much."

 

The car slowly pulled to a stop. 

 

"Ready to see it?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

"I guess Satan is a busy man," said Luther. "Especially in Vegas."

 

Now weren't that the truth. But somehow, Luther had a soft spot for Vegas; the evil might have been hidden under a glamour of lights and, well, glamour - but Vegas never pretended to be something it wasn't. It was good, it was evil, all rolled into a throw of a dice or the slice of a deck. And to a good tune with dancing girls. 

 

In any case, he was glad the car stopped. Where were they?

 

Probably in the middle of a desert. 

 

"Ready to see it? you bet..."

 

He got ready to feel the barrel of a gun or the point of a knife in his back. 

[Poncho]

(GM Post)

 

Luther was helped out, but there was no gun put to his back, yet. The bag was pulled off, and he was shown...what looked like an abandoned industrial building.

 

"Did you know, Moneybags, that there's Oil under this beautiful city? The blood and bones of Dinosaurs, turned into the lifeblood of our great society. We can't just leave it there, even when we're using the area on top of it. So they built buildings like this all over California and Nevada. They're all full, full to the brim, of oily goodness. Plenty of wells in there, just for the taking. While people gamble their lives away a few blocks away, the rich folks who really own these places pull the blood from the earth and get richer." He grinned as he opened the door.

 

"But wouldn't you know it, when you dig deep, you'll never know what you'll find." The oil wells were pumping still, but it wasn't oil they were pumping anymore; they glowed with Joy, full of the miracle chemical.

 

"Well well well, Zander. Why'd you bring this man back here?" The sound of hard soled shoes and a cane rung through the building. A man who was clearly a demon, or at least not human. His eyes were the red of brimstone, a pair of horns like a deer sprouted from his forehead. He was wearing an immaculate red suit with black trim, his cane was maple wood with a snarling hellhound topper.

 

"He has money. A lot of it. And wants to distribute." Zander- the Boss, who it was quickly becoming clear was not the boss of anything at all- explained.

 

"Well, I do so love money, and I'm always looking for distributors." the Demon said, smiling. "So, perhaps we should talk seriously. My good friend, why do you want to sell some Joy? What makes Zander think you're such a good fit that he'd bring you back to me?"

[Supercape]

Lament

 

Satan had, indeed, been busy. 

 

Luther suspended judgement. He had seen plenty of outrageously impressive make up artists and costumers. Not to mention the possibility of superhero shapechanging powers, or holographic technology. Was this truly a demon. 

 

It would fit, no question. Quite poetic really, a demon trading joy in the name of misery. 

 

"I wasn't expecting such magnificent company," say Luther, with a bow. "I mean... what do I call you? Bub?"

 

"I got my money, I got contacts. Hollywood! It's like Vegas, just more narcisists. Yes, I know, its hard to believe, what with Vegas setting the bar so high, but I urge you to believe it!"

 

He shuffled slightly.

 

"But, heres the thing. The market is there. A lot of market. But... the clients are a little bit more health conscious, if you catch my drift. Whats in this joy? How do you make it?"