Mary sat quietly in the little back room of a shuttered business in the Hill District. A few of the people from the plane knocked out of the sky had torn through the roof of this place and, despite the repairs done afterward, the scene of splattered meat and shattered bodies couldn't be driven from people's minds. This place was one of the site of the most iconic photo taken of the incident and published in newspapers. A Nobel prize for the photographer, a shatter life for the business owner.
A steel chair beneath her and two heavily armed guards by the door were all that this room contained, well, that and trash of course. There was simply no removing all the trash in these sorts of places, and no point to it. After all, it wasn't as if anyone lived here. This was nothing more than the meeting and drop off location of the former North-Side Pancakes, a silly name for a very large and very violent gunrunning gang. Or, it used to be.
Mary had subsumed or destroyed every lower gang in the city by this point, bolstering her Militia's numbers by a non-insignificant number and increasing the safety of the streets of the Pitts in turn. Of course, it was only safe for those who paid to have her people guard their businesses and neighborhoods. Those that didn't pay saw an increase in crime and, subsequentially, meta activity. Which was more destructive depended on who you talked to. Though Mary had to appreciate the metas at least a little bit in her business ventures. She didn't even have to bribe them to pick up activity in the places she didn't run, they did that all on their own.
Related to all that was exactly why Mary sat here now. The Pancakes bought their guns mostly from a mysterious organization lead by a man named 'Obsidian.' When Mary heard about it herself, she nearly pissed herself laughing. Because of course this would be how she met that man again. Conveniently, there was even a business deal scheduled sooner rather than later and Mary obliged herself to attend.
He wouldn't be here, unfortunately, Mary knew that. But when one of his boys came instead, perhaps a deal could be worked out. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long on that either, as a beautiful blonde haired young man entered into the building to see Mary and her men. Smiling softly at the guy, who had to be close to or around Mary's age, Mary quickly said.
"Please, don't run. I's been waitin' for you's. We have business. Do you's know who I am?"
A steel chair beneath her and two heavily armed guards by the door were all that this room contained, well, that and trash of course. There was simply no removing all the trash in these sorts of places, and no point to it. After all, it wasn't as if anyone lived here. This was nothing more than the meeting and drop off location of the former North-Side Pancakes, a silly name for a very large and very violent gunrunning gang. Or, it used to be.
Mary had subsumed or destroyed every lower gang in the city by this point, bolstering her Militia's numbers by a non-insignificant number and increasing the safety of the streets of the Pitts in turn. Of course, it was only safe for those who paid to have her people guard their businesses and neighborhoods. Those that didn't pay saw an increase in crime and, subsequentially, meta activity. Which was more destructive depended on who you talked to. Though Mary had to appreciate the metas at least a little bit in her business ventures. She didn't even have to bribe them to pick up activity in the places she didn't run, they did that all on their own.
Related to all that was exactly why Mary sat here now. The Pancakes bought their guns mostly from a mysterious organization lead by a man named 'Obsidian.' When Mary heard about it herself, she nearly pissed herself laughing. Because of course this would be how she met that man again. Conveniently, there was even a business deal scheduled sooner rather than later and Mary obliged herself to attend.
He wouldn't be here, unfortunately, Mary knew that. But when one of his boys came instead, perhaps a deal could be worked out. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long on that either, as a beautiful blonde haired young man entered into the building to see Mary and her men. Smiling softly at the guy, who had to be close to or around Mary's age, Mary quickly said.
"Please, don't run. I's been waitin' for you's. We have business. Do you's know who I am?"
