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Unread 06-29-2010, 04:54 PM   #1
Overcast
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Default Shining Dawn, Part 1: A Promise of Wealth

San Francisco, June of 1884. The summer heat was bearing down the city putting stress on the already tense nerves of the residents. Racial differences, criminal activity, political corruption, and sickness had built the tension and while the city was not yet ready to snap it wasn't on a good path to avoiding it. Beyond this strife and dismay laid a man with problems of his own, not a one that coincided with that of the city for on any other day he was the kind that profited in such chaos.

His office a well sized thing on the corner that didn't often have customers, instead many workers rushed in and out of the place. When anyone did arrive for services it was often quite lavish, a sign of the level of interests it catered to. Within was a waiting room with many a chair, often filled with workers who never actually went past it but were catered to by one Miss Felicia, a kind old woman who took care of those matters of little importance to the man behind the door, the prodigious Mr. Watts. In the room beyond at the end of a large table covered in papers sat the man himself. He sometimes shuffled through the mess for a map to discuss land acquisitions for mining operations, sometimes as a personal study of the kind of manpower it would take and the cost to transport, or even the list of workers so that payment could be properly handed out, for though he did not care much of those he worked to death those who survived would be compensated. In that mash of papers was his entire career from the beginning until now, and only he knew the way through it. At the time he was sorting through a group of files on the top rapping the side of the table with his ornate pen in relative impatience. These were the profiles of those he sent for, some of the very few beyond the absurdly wealthy who would walk through that doorway. A cigar hung from his mouth but wasn't quite lit, he always getting halfway there before he had to fix his glasses, concentrate on the files, or the damn match burnt down to his fingers.

The situation was dire, every precaution wasted by an inevitable trouble that may just mar his career. To say he was obsessed was light, this pulled on every fiber of his being. For this was a matter of reputation and even the most insignificant mar could make business difficult, one of this size might just ruin him. It was why he had sent out for the men he had, the full posse being a proper organization of skills he would need to solve this problem in full.

He stopped a moment on that thought staring down at his watch,

"MISS FELICIA!"

She rushed in quickly and shut the door behind her, it paid to be quick when it came to Mr. Watts and really at the wage he paid her she was keen to move those old bones so she could have something to leave to her family,

"Yes Mr. Watts?"

"The men should be arriving soon, six, the descriptions are at the end of the table there, when they arrive you may send them in, if they happen to not all arrive at thirty then go ahead and send who is there in anyway for anyone else has likely rejected me or is not punctual enough to be worth a damn anyway."

She looked to the end of the chaotic mass of paper and indeed there was a typeset paper with a list of names and physical descriptions, completely invisible until you actually wanted it. She took it up with a gentle nod,

"Yes Mr. Watts."

Before evacuating the room. He found himself rubbing his brow, the scene was killing him, his mind worked to the edge of his bare sanity just making sure the delay in the shipment wasn't questioned. He needed these men, so they damn well better be as good as their reputations said...

"Damn me if they aren't."

He finally took the time to light his cigar; it might just be a long day.
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Unread 06-30-2010, 09:43 AM   #2
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Bushe moved his hat down to cover his face as he rode into town. He did his best to avoid eye contact. It only took one white cocksucker to say his gear and horse was stolen before he would have a riot to deal with. Bushe stayed clear of big cities, but a letter addressed specifically to him in his own language deserved investigation.

Bushe wandered around town looking for the office of this Watts. His rifle strapped to his back, he was thankful for it as he rode through the town by himself. A lone Chinaman by himself was fun to attack, but a Chinaman with a gun can kill. No one was that drunk yet.

His countrymen were always easy to find and were very helpful in finding Mr. Watt's office. It was a bit before noon. With nothing else to do, Bushe tied up his horse and went inside. Bushe found himself in a waiting room with a large variety of people. He pulled out his letter and walked up to woman trying to organize giant piles of paper.
"Bushe Han. Looking for Watts."
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Unread 06-30-2010, 08:28 PM   #3
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Jim looked up at the sky as he entered the city of San Francisco--one of the largest metropolitan centers in the US, and not a place he particularly savored the thought of entering. The law in cities like this tended to look down on men like him. They prided themselves in their 'civility' and 'safety', but Jim knew better than all that. Men were men, and men killed. To survive. To eat. For fun. The only difference in 'civilized' men is they were more likely to shoot you in the back.

It was with that thought that he reached into his duster and pulled out the letter from one Mr. Watts, giving it a once over before tucking it away and reaching up to pull down his hat, shadowing his face from the harsh morning sun.

With a sigh he entered the city, his ears ringing with the bustle of activity and the low roar of thousands of people all conversing, and working, and yelling at once. For a man who preferred the quiet outliers of society the place was quite a shock, and the hustle and bustle threw him off his character for the moment.

So much so, in fact, that it wasn't until he heard the loud ringing of one of San Francisco's prided cable cars, that he realized he was about to be run over, and quickly stepped aside. Thinking fast, however, he grabbed onto one of the bars that ringed the platform, and swung himself up and onto the vehicle, doffing his hat to a female rider he had obviously shocked with his hasty arrival in mid movement. "Ma'am," he said simply.

Jim took a moment to glance up at the cables the car traveled upon. This system was the first of its kind and had only been in operation for roughly ten years now, after some failures in Europe and the East Coast, if the newspapers were to be believed, and so, though he normally wasn't the touristy type, Jim felt he could take a moment of levity to inspect its workings a bit. And he did his best to avoid the stares of the other riders, no doubt expecting him to wrap a bandanna about his face and commence a train robbery at any moment.

Not that it meant much to him. He'd get to Mr. Watts's office much quicker this way, and, indeed, it wasn't long before he was walking through the doors just behind a chinaman, who spoke with only a slight accent.

Tipping his hat a bit toward the woman from behind Bushe, Jim spoke, "Jim Narstrom. Same as Mr. Han."
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Unread 06-30-2010, 08:53 PM   #4
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The doting old woman filed through the paperwork and problems with a soft sort of eye and a gentle voice that took the typical concerns of the overseers about their mostly Chinese workforce. When Mr. Han arrived it was difficult not to simply dismiss him as another of the scabs in Mr. Watt's employ. Though the gear was able to set him apart, and perhaps how forward he was as well. The accent hit like a brick and caught her attention in a strange sort of way, notating a lack of culture compared to the men who typically communicated the concerns of the miners.

Which on that note came the soft tip of the hat of a young man(at least by her standards) introducing himself as Mr. Narstrom. It was the kind of name that stood out in her mind, for it wasn't one she'd see very often. Both fit the descriptions on the paper though and so with a nod she pointed them to the chairs,

"Please have a seat, Mr. Watts would like for all of your compatriots to enter together if possible. If all goes well they should be here very soon."
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Unread 06-30-2010, 09:13 PM   #5
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Dr. Everett Flint looked up at the building's impressive facade with a critical eye. This Watt fellow obviously had some money. Well, at least that much of the strange letter was true.

"Well, well. Perhaps this trip won't be a complete waste of time after all." He looked down at the strange invitation his prospective employer had sent him. Really, Everett had only come here out of morbid curiosity. The promise of monetary compensation was a bonus, of course, but Everett had half expected this to be some sort of prank.

"Ah well, suppose I aught to go introduce myself," he sighed, tucking the letter back into his jacket pocket. "Wouldn't be proper to be late."

He entered the building, removing his hat as he did. An elderly woman greeted him, directing him to a waiting room of sorts. A somewhat questionable-looking man in a duster and a fellow armed with a rather noticeable rifle were already there. Coworkers, Everett realized with a start. This didn't quite sit well with him. Everett seriously doubted they were fellow medical professionals. They looked disturbingly like shady hired guns. Everett felt distinctly out of place. What exactly did Mr. Watts want from him?

"Gentlemen," he greeted with a nod. He rather hoped these two were here for some other reason.
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Unread 06-30-2010, 10:08 PM   #6
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Breathing deeply, Max leaned against a wall for a moment to catch his breath. He did it. He had walked to San Fransisco. Ow God this hurt so much. His neckerchief was wet with sweat, and he was a bit sunburned. It was quite the hike, but he knew he could handle it. He tossed around the idea of getting a horse for the trip, but that was too costly. After s bit of calculating, he had determined that walking was most cost-effective.

He traveled incredibly lightly. In fact, it would be easy to mistake him for just a resident of the town. That was just the way Max rolled. He did a good job at remaining unnoticed when he needed. However, he still managed to have a reputation for getting things done. If that wasn't sort of a paradox.

While others may have checked their letters for the details of their job, Max found no such necessity. He had familiarized himself with the details and information of his employer. Mr. Watts, an Investment Representative an accountant. He didn't like Accountants, or investments. He liked cash however, and this guy was paying.

It was really no problem for him to make his way to the office of this Mr. Watts. Just a couple of turns. He already asked a man for the location, and he remembered the directions just fine. He arrived just after a Gentleman wearing a bowler entered.

"Gentlemen," the doctor greeted with a nod. He rather hoped these two were here for some other reason.

'Oh shit,' Max said mentally, with a scowl upon his face. He was going to have to work with a group? He hated that. Oh well, he would tolerate it. He took a look at the others. A china-man and a tan guy of average height. He would believe that they were his co-workers, he supposed. The fellow with the suit and bowler looked uneasy though. Max bet he was just a guy visiting, there was no chance he was an employee.

So Max gave a simple nod to the elderly woman at the desk. "Max Cayton," he said to her, before taking a seat. He had a bad feeling about this in the pit of his wallet.
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Unread 07-01-2010, 11:35 AM   #7
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Sam hated the city. The place was busy and there were far to many people around for his liking. He felt lost here, the familiar smell of the the forest was long gone and the sounds were all different. He looked up at the sky, noticing the sun's position and figured it was about time for the scheduled meeting. He looked around briefly before heading off into the direction of the place he was supposed to meet the one who had hired him.

As he approached the door he took a quick look at his surroundings, noticing what he could before heading in. He quickly noticed the four people already in the place plus the old lady who he was surprised was still alive.

He took a quick glance at the other four men in the room. One was a chinaman he guessed. He had no real familiarity with them, he'd only seen them a couple of times, occasionally in a city when he was forced to visit them, or when he was helping track them down. The other was a man who had a decent looking rifle, and another man who looked a little seedy, both of them had the look of guns for hire. The fourth man was quite different. He looked very well dressed and had the air of a professional about him. He was curious as to why the other people were here, probably offered a job as well.

"Good evening ma'am" He said with a quick nod, "I'm here to see Mr. Watts in answer to a letter I have received from him. I have it on me if you so require to see it."
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Unread 07-01-2010, 02:55 PM   #8
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The door swung open, and the large figure who lurched in blocked most of the light from entering alongside.

As Chief approached the front desk, the shadows around his face receded, showing a freshly split lip. He paused in front of the old woman. As she craned her neck to take him in, he fumbled with his left hand among his shirt pocket, finally pulling out a bloodied rag of paper. He looked over to the five arrivals, then back to the receptionist. He placed the paper on the table and began moving towards them.

Before he reachedng his seat he reaches down and picks up the waiting spittoon. After a quick motion a large glob of sickly red blood and mucus flew into the metal pot, landing with a dull thud. Placing the pot down, he resumed his walk over to the others, wiping his mouth with his right hand, the red from his mouth blending into the recently bloodied knuckles. After sitting down, he clenched his fists and unleashed a series of cracks and pops into the air.

He fixed his eyes on the door, waiting.
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Unread 07-01-2010, 09:30 PM   #9
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Miss Felicia watched carefully as they all came in one by one. Led to the chairs to wait without much of an issue. Or at least it was until something massive lumbered its way inside this civilized land. The appearance of the massive native hit her harder than perhaps it should have, her personal prejudices conjuring thoughts of the great savage doing terrible things that defied every form of good Christian morality in her mind without the least bit of inclination, she began to falter, a heavy sweat hitting her like a brick, she began to fall...

And the door opened, Mr. Watts erupting, cigar in mouth, to catch her. He had expected that the Chief would be too much for her. She was old fashioned like that, which served well in having her deal with the typically harsh way the Chinese were treated. This was a bit more than her frail old psychology could manage, he was just glad the behemoth was the last to arrive. He laid her on a chair and stared around at eyes that were perhaps a bit shocked to actually see him in the flesh. For some it was the first time they had ever seen him at all, he pulled the cigar from his mouth and pointed toward the door,

"Out."

For a second they didn't seem to respond, but his eyes did not blink until the point was made and everyone cleared the floor and he closed up shop shaking the ashes of his vice carelessly to the floor. Once the scene was secure he looked back to his hirelings. Each one a sight for his tired eyes, he pulled a puff in and signaled them toward his planning room before walking in himself. It was about time they stopped lallygagging and start some proper conflict resolution.
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Unread 07-03-2010, 11:41 PM   #10
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"You alright, there, Chief?" Jim asked as the much larger man sat down next to him, using a sardonic reference to the obvious native heritage without any actual knowledge of it being his name. "Looks like you were on the wrong end of a grizzly, then again if you can still walk... well I'd sure hate to see the other guy."

Before the conversation could continue Watts erupted out to catch Miss Felicia in her fit of the vapors, and invite them all in. Jim stood up quickly and offered a hand to the obviously injured injun. "Well you certainly have a way with women. Need a hand?" he asked with a grin, waiting to see if the large man would accept the help, or needed it, for that matter.
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