[Glimpse, Historical: After Rhythm]: Shadow Dance
Jul 13, 2021 20:49:31 GMT -8
Lucas Chevalier and Eis like this
Post by Gavin Graves on Jul 13, 2021 20:49:31 GMT -8
The remnant packaging from all the takeout Gavin had been consuming lately had piled up around him in his apartment. He had been exhausted and couldn't bring himself to cook with the rising temperatures that came with the change of seasons. It was time to get moving again.
After policing his phone, keys, and TV remote from the table, he set a garbage bag at one end of the glass top coffee table by lifting the end and slipping one side of the plastic underneath. Efficiently he dragged his arm across the surface clearing nearly all of it in one go. A second pass finished the job.
Taking the bags out to the dumpster, it was a startling realization it was actually already nighttime. He'd lost track of time while catching up on sleep over the last few days. That left him wondering what day it was since he was no longer sure. He let the dumpster lid drop shut with a bang.
Within a splash of light, it was a quick check of his phone to discover it had already been three days. The grog of now having overslept almost let him forget a gang of traffickers had been hounding him since he poked his nose into their business earlier in the week while trying to find clues about Yasmin's murderers. It seemed like they weren't going to let it go. Constantly looking over his shoulder, paying attention to the dance of phantoms in the shadows, and wondering which cars held untold troubles for him had gone on long enough for his tastes. He was tired of feeling exposed and vulnerable. He was going to put a stop to it.
Being outside he took the opportunity to settle his nerves with a cigarette. The glowing end smoothly consumed tobacco with a long inhale, momentarily freeing his mind to think about the problem. He wasn't going to be able to convince the Asian gangsters he wasn't worth their time on his own. He needed the mix of ingredients to change on the scenario. As far as they were aware he was just some lone guy investigating their business. They likely thought he was a private investigator or a plain clothes officer, he concluded. It was a matter of intimidation. They wanted to keep him from thinking they didn't notice and that they would give him their focused attention.
They had succeeded in inspiring fear in him for a while. They were a substantial gang all things considered. He was also alone for the moment. He was fairly sure he could call on some Chevaliers who would be more than happy to stomp on slavers. He figured that would be an excessive response for the moment and might escalate things for more than just him.
He had not imagined the fear he was feeling would inspire him and empower him, but it did.
If they were going to follow Gavin, he decided it was time for a merry tour of their rival's territory. Places where he could safely hang out and tattooed Asian gangsters would stand out by contrast were the order of the day.
It was a quiet drive in his dependable jeep. He'd been driving the blocks where he knew he would pick up his reliable tails for a few laps. It was only the second pass before they attached their path to his own. That was the easy part. Getting them to stop was the goal.
He took a route that avoided a few of the watch points he was aware of for the Black Dragons' rivals and made sure to turn away from prominently displayed tagging, not wanting to give away the game too early. They'd gotten used to his common place activities and were likely bored into complacency. They were now in for a surprise.
They had been led to a bar where Gavin noticed a swing in clientele and staff had happened over the last few months. He figured the Dragons were less likely to know of the territory expansion since it was fairly fresh. If he didn't talk too much, Gavin wouldn't stand out there. The Dragons followed him inside, according to plan.
So far so good, he thought.
From there it was a matter of playing up the Australian accent, behaving the tourist, and buying a few rounds with the right people to give his watchers the impression he belonged there.
Three beers in it was time to make his move.
"Heya gents. Seems every time I turn around there you are, yeah? Getting to be a bit of a bother, right," he said maintaining the gregarious smile he'd had from across the room. "Now I haven't been making trouble for anyone and you're keeping after me." Gavin slides a pair of beers across the table to his tagalongs. "Have a drink. Get to know me."
One of the gangsters slid the bottles back a few inches toward Gavin and glowered with annoyance.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged it off.
Undeterred, "You see, I was thinking. If tourism wasn't going to be allowed for me, it might be smart for me to look around, yeah?" Gavin gave a gestural nod in a few directions around the room guiding the Dragons' views. "Over there, yeah, and there. Oh, and there." He turned back to them, "You see, you've been watching me closely and forgot your surroundings. This bar has done the old switcheroo on you, right."
Their faces had blanched and lips pressed tight and flat. Gavin could palpably feel how exposed and alone they felt now. It radiated off them. It was thoroughly satisfying for him to have turned the tables. He let it linger for moments while they contemplated their situation. It fed him when they peaked.
"I think I'm over that yellow fever I caught earlier. I checked it with the doc. Do you boys think it's going to be alright? tilting his head in the direction of their nearest rival. "Or, do you think I should get a second opinion?"
Gavin raised his beer to give them an out.
Nodding their understanding and acquiescence they each picked up a beer clinked with Gavin, took a sip, and then promptly made their way to the exit.
An accord was reached. The Dragons had learned something about their rival's new front, Gavin would be left alone, and no one had to die that night.
He sat and finished his beer marinating in their lingering fear. None of the fear was his own anymore. That fear was now his weapon. They had shown him the way and it now manifested through Autumn's enhanced blessing. "Thanks, boys."
After policing his phone, keys, and TV remote from the table, he set a garbage bag at one end of the glass top coffee table by lifting the end and slipping one side of the plastic underneath. Efficiently he dragged his arm across the surface clearing nearly all of it in one go. A second pass finished the job.
Taking the bags out to the dumpster, it was a startling realization it was actually already nighttime. He'd lost track of time while catching up on sleep over the last few days. That left him wondering what day it was since he was no longer sure. He let the dumpster lid drop shut with a bang.
Within a splash of light, it was a quick check of his phone to discover it had already been three days. The grog of now having overslept almost let him forget a gang of traffickers had been hounding him since he poked his nose into their business earlier in the week while trying to find clues about Yasmin's murderers. It seemed like they weren't going to let it go. Constantly looking over his shoulder, paying attention to the dance of phantoms in the shadows, and wondering which cars held untold troubles for him had gone on long enough for his tastes. He was tired of feeling exposed and vulnerable. He was going to put a stop to it.
Being outside he took the opportunity to settle his nerves with a cigarette. The glowing end smoothly consumed tobacco with a long inhale, momentarily freeing his mind to think about the problem. He wasn't going to be able to convince the Asian gangsters he wasn't worth their time on his own. He needed the mix of ingredients to change on the scenario. As far as they were aware he was just some lone guy investigating their business. They likely thought he was a private investigator or a plain clothes officer, he concluded. It was a matter of intimidation. They wanted to keep him from thinking they didn't notice and that they would give him their focused attention.
They had succeeded in inspiring fear in him for a while. They were a substantial gang all things considered. He was also alone for the moment. He was fairly sure he could call on some Chevaliers who would be more than happy to stomp on slavers. He figured that would be an excessive response for the moment and might escalate things for more than just him.
He had not imagined the fear he was feeling would inspire him and empower him, but it did.
If they were going to follow Gavin, he decided it was time for a merry tour of their rival's territory. Places where he could safely hang out and tattooed Asian gangsters would stand out by contrast were the order of the day.
It was a quiet drive in his dependable jeep. He'd been driving the blocks where he knew he would pick up his reliable tails for a few laps. It was only the second pass before they attached their path to his own. That was the easy part. Getting them to stop was the goal.
He took a route that avoided a few of the watch points he was aware of for the Black Dragons' rivals and made sure to turn away from prominently displayed tagging, not wanting to give away the game too early. They'd gotten used to his common place activities and were likely bored into complacency. They were now in for a surprise.
They had been led to a bar where Gavin noticed a swing in clientele and staff had happened over the last few months. He figured the Dragons were less likely to know of the territory expansion since it was fairly fresh. If he didn't talk too much, Gavin wouldn't stand out there. The Dragons followed him inside, according to plan.
So far so good, he thought.
From there it was a matter of playing up the Australian accent, behaving the tourist, and buying a few rounds with the right people to give his watchers the impression he belonged there.
Three beers in it was time to make his move.
"Heya gents. Seems every time I turn around there you are, yeah? Getting to be a bit of a bother, right," he said maintaining the gregarious smile he'd had from across the room. "Now I haven't been making trouble for anyone and you're keeping after me." Gavin slides a pair of beers across the table to his tagalongs. "Have a drink. Get to know me."
One of the gangsters slid the bottles back a few inches toward Gavin and glowered with annoyance.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged it off.
Undeterred, "You see, I was thinking. If tourism wasn't going to be allowed for me, it might be smart for me to look around, yeah?" Gavin gave a gestural nod in a few directions around the room guiding the Dragons' views. "Over there, yeah, and there. Oh, and there." He turned back to them, "You see, you've been watching me closely and forgot your surroundings. This bar has done the old switcheroo on you, right."
Their faces had blanched and lips pressed tight and flat. Gavin could palpably feel how exposed and alone they felt now. It radiated off them. It was thoroughly satisfying for him to have turned the tables. He let it linger for moments while they contemplated their situation. It fed him when they peaked.
"I think I'm over that yellow fever I caught earlier. I checked it with the doc. Do you boys think it's going to be alright? tilting his head in the direction of their nearest rival. "Or, do you think I should get a second opinion?"
Gavin raised his beer to give them an out.
Nodding their understanding and acquiescence they each picked up a beer clinked with Gavin, took a sip, and then promptly made their way to the exit.
An accord was reached. The Dragons had learned something about their rival's new front, Gavin would be left alone, and no one had to die that night.
He sat and finished his beer marinating in their lingering fear. None of the fear was his own anymore. That fear was now his weapon. They had shown him the way and it now manifested through Autumn's enhanced blessing. "Thanks, boys."