- Joined
- Oct 12, 2017
Pure impudence! It was disrespect of the highest order. Holmgren rubbed an agitated hand over his lips as he stood tensely in the middle of Babadock restaurant. His restaurant. Technically, his name was nowhere on the books but he owned the guy who owned it. This was home base for the terrible Unseelie mobster and everyone fucking knew it. So, the fact that last night, some blasted thugs decided to stick the place up in an attempt to rob him, was incredibly bold to an abysmally foolish degree.
A fairly fresh face in the Underworld, Holmgren had quickly made a name for himself as a force to be reckoned with. Being one of the higher castes of dark Fae, Holmgren had powers that enabled him to throw his weight around, quickly establishing a market for himself in the criminal Underworld, as well as sectioning off a bit of territory as well. So far, in the years since he'd started collecting secrets and building his empire, he hadn't had to break any legs or eat any faces since he'd first burst out onto the scene. And now, the stench of vampyr lingered on the air and he scowled in distaste over the thought that such lowly, fowl cretins had seemingly forgotten who they were messing with.
"They did'na get anythin', boss," Cade said, standing nearby and lounging on the pristine, golden wood bar. A lower caste than Holmgren, Cade was his most trusted admiral, dressed in a dark suit with red tie, and the tips of his ears slightly pointed. Despite being so close, or quite possibly because of it, because Holmgren knew he'd never leave no matter how much abuse he suffered at the Unseelie boss's hands, it didn't protect Cade from feeling the full brunt of Holmgren's anger.
"It's no' abou' that," Holmgren seethed, his voice dragging savagely from his throat in a thick Scottish brogue as he paced, turning steely golden and black eyes upon his henchman. His pointed ears marked him as higher Fae than Cade, the points long and more severe than the gentle tips on the ends of Cade's ears. But truly, it was his wings, black, bat-like membranes and claw-tipped edges, his glamour fading from them in his rage, that marked him out as a higher caste than all the dark Fae on his payroll. Despite himself and his familiarity with his boss's moods, Cade tensed and drew back reflexively at sight of the gigantic wingspan as they spread wide and shook in Holmgren's fury.
"If it were about only successful attempts then everyone would be brazen enough to fucking try!" Holmgren spat through a brutal grimace. "The fact that those blasted blood suckers even dared at all makes me think we need to make another example. Things have been too easy lately and those bloody fucking sheep can't seem to comprehend a fear that's not directly felt or right in their faces."
"Either that or they were tryin' ta challenge you," Cade offered with an agreeable shrug.
"Aye. Either way it was a dreadful mistake and we'll make them feel it," Holmgren said resolutely, sobering enough to slip his wings behind glamour again, fading them from sight as he adjusted his dark, blue-purple, silk tie. That did make him think of the circumstances surrounding the attempted robbery.
The vamps had dispatched with the maitre'de and threatened the civilian customers who'd been dining at Babadock at the time. But when they'd gone into the back room where Holmgren's men kept their stash of cash, they hadn't found it. Because it had been conveniently hidden. It would have been not simply a blow to his pride and reputation to be attacked as he was in this fashion but it would have been doubly sore to lose that money. So, Holmgren, with all his anger and wounded ego, felt a glimmer of silver lining considering how he'd been saved from such a troubling embarrassment.
Sniffing stoutly, snapping his fingers for a bottle of his finest scotch from the bar, Holmgren said pensively with an intense look at Cade, "Bring me the little fellow who saved our arses. I want to meet him." Going to one of the tables nearby with his bottle of scotch and a couple glasses promptly delivered, Holmgren brought out a pack of spiced cigarettes, enveloping himself in a cloud of smoky cinnamon as he lit one and took a seat to await an audience with the brave soul who'd thought quickly and acted bravely to hide his money from the fiendish vampyr robbers. Cade snapped his fingers, nodding to one of the Fae henchmen nearby, the man disappearing into the kitchen for a moment.
In the kitchen, the Unseelie thug, Devon, looked over the fox dishwasher, his expression unreadable as he said in a deep, Irish accent, "Boss wants to speak to you." Clearly brooking no arguments as he waited for his invitation to be obeyed lest the being wished to be dragged from the kitchen forcefully.
A fairly fresh face in the Underworld, Holmgren had quickly made a name for himself as a force to be reckoned with. Being one of the higher castes of dark Fae, Holmgren had powers that enabled him to throw his weight around, quickly establishing a market for himself in the criminal Underworld, as well as sectioning off a bit of territory as well. So far, in the years since he'd started collecting secrets and building his empire, he hadn't had to break any legs or eat any faces since he'd first burst out onto the scene. And now, the stench of vampyr lingered on the air and he scowled in distaste over the thought that such lowly, fowl cretins had seemingly forgotten who they were messing with.
"They did'na get anythin', boss," Cade said, standing nearby and lounging on the pristine, golden wood bar. A lower caste than Holmgren, Cade was his most trusted admiral, dressed in a dark suit with red tie, and the tips of his ears slightly pointed. Despite being so close, or quite possibly because of it, because Holmgren knew he'd never leave no matter how much abuse he suffered at the Unseelie boss's hands, it didn't protect Cade from feeling the full brunt of Holmgren's anger.
"It's no' abou' that," Holmgren seethed, his voice dragging savagely from his throat in a thick Scottish brogue as he paced, turning steely golden and black eyes upon his henchman. His pointed ears marked him as higher Fae than Cade, the points long and more severe than the gentle tips on the ends of Cade's ears. But truly, it was his wings, black, bat-like membranes and claw-tipped edges, his glamour fading from them in his rage, that marked him out as a higher caste than all the dark Fae on his payroll. Despite himself and his familiarity with his boss's moods, Cade tensed and drew back reflexively at sight of the gigantic wingspan as they spread wide and shook in Holmgren's fury.
"If it were about only successful attempts then everyone would be brazen enough to fucking try!" Holmgren spat through a brutal grimace. "The fact that those blasted blood suckers even dared at all makes me think we need to make another example. Things have been too easy lately and those bloody fucking sheep can't seem to comprehend a fear that's not directly felt or right in their faces."
"Either that or they were tryin' ta challenge you," Cade offered with an agreeable shrug.
"Aye. Either way it was a dreadful mistake and we'll make them feel it," Holmgren said resolutely, sobering enough to slip his wings behind glamour again, fading them from sight as he adjusted his dark, blue-purple, silk tie. That did make him think of the circumstances surrounding the attempted robbery.
The vamps had dispatched with the maitre'de and threatened the civilian customers who'd been dining at Babadock at the time. But when they'd gone into the back room where Holmgren's men kept their stash of cash, they hadn't found it. Because it had been conveniently hidden. It would have been not simply a blow to his pride and reputation to be attacked as he was in this fashion but it would have been doubly sore to lose that money. So, Holmgren, with all his anger and wounded ego, felt a glimmer of silver lining considering how he'd been saved from such a troubling embarrassment.
Sniffing stoutly, snapping his fingers for a bottle of his finest scotch from the bar, Holmgren said pensively with an intense look at Cade, "Bring me the little fellow who saved our arses. I want to meet him." Going to one of the tables nearby with his bottle of scotch and a couple glasses promptly delivered, Holmgren brought out a pack of spiced cigarettes, enveloping himself in a cloud of smoky cinnamon as he lit one and took a seat to await an audience with the brave soul who'd thought quickly and acted bravely to hide his money from the fiendish vampyr robbers. Cade snapped his fingers, nodding to one of the Fae henchmen nearby, the man disappearing into the kitchen for a moment.
In the kitchen, the Unseelie thug, Devon, looked over the fox dishwasher, his expression unreadable as he said in a deep, Irish accent, "Boss wants to speak to you." Clearly brooking no arguments as he waited for his invitation to be obeyed lest the being wished to be dragged from the kitchen forcefully.